Blood Relics (A James Acton Thriller, #12) (40 page)

He tried
the handle.

The door
opened as Dawson and Reading arrived, their weapons covering both directions,
Dawson squeezing the trigger twice before all three were inside the house.
Niner pointed at the door. “Lock it, it’s reinforced.”

Reading
turned the lock, Niner rushing through the large living area toward what looked
like a hallway.

A
startled woman in a maid’s uniform came around the corner and screamed, begging
in German not to be hurt. He grabbed her by the arm and yanked her into the
room. “Do you speak English?”

She
nodded, saying nothing to prove it.

“Where’s
Professor Palmer?”

She
shook her head, her eyes narrowing in confusion.

“The
woman that was shot, they would have brought her here two days ago.”

“Ahh,
the Fräulein! She upstairs in lab.”

Niner
didn’t bother telling the woman that Professor Palmer was definitely a Frau.
“What room?”

The
woman’s eyes lost focus for a moment as she thought, suddenly pointing toward
the stairs to the right. “Upstairs, third door on left.”

Niner
pointed to a bar on one side of the room. “Get behind there and stay down until
the police arrive.”

She
nodded but didn’t move. He pushed her toward the bar, it enough to get her in
motion as Dawson and Reading covered the door leading to the hall.

“Ready?”

Dawson
nodded. “Let’s go!”

Niner
took point, rushing up the stairs two at a time, all the while his Glock 22
extended in front of him, covering the angles, making sure they didn’t walk
into a bullet. As they reached the second floor he turned to see two men rush
into a room about half way down the hall, guns drawn.

He
counted the doors and cursed.

Third
door on the left.

At least
a dozen gunshots rang out as he charged forward.

Laura had no choice but to tear the IV from her arm, the stand now a
hindrance on the steps. She took a glance back down the long hall to see two
men enter the lab and open fire, another man rushing to join them, the fog of
pain she was in separating him into three blurred forms then a single cohesive
one repeatedly.

I
have to keep going.

She
grabbed the railing with one hand, her wound with the other, ignoring the fact
it was now soaking wet, her stiches torn. She knew if she continued she would
most likely die.

But she
had no choice.

Those
men had just entered her room and fired, probably through the curtains her bed
lay behind.

Dietrich
Kruger had obviously ordered her death.

Leaning
heavily on the railing she stumbled toward the ground floor, rounding the first
landing as another burst of gunfire was heard above.

Her
knees gave out and she fell forward, her hand on the railing breaking her fall
slightly, but the force too great for her to hold on. She lost her grip and
tumbled down the remaining dozen steps, her cellphone and the keys sliding
across the marble floor she came to rest on.

“Help
me.”

But her
voice was barely a whisper.

Reading burst into the room to find Niner standing over the bodies
of two men. They were in some sort of lab, well-equipped but deserted, with no
sign of Professor Palmer.

“Laura!”
he cried as he spotted a set of rollaway curtains, a large number of bullet holes
leaving him to think the worst. A pit formed in his stomach as he tossed the
nearest one aside, resisting the urge to close his eyes and protect himself
from the sight of another dead friend.

But all
he found was an empty bed.

Thank
God!

“She’s
not here,” he said, quickly searching the entire lab for any place she may have
hidden herself, finding nothing.

“There’s
some blood here,” said Niner, pointing at the floor near the door. “It looks
like someone was dragged.”

Reading
looked at the smudges and nodded. “Or someone dragged herself.”

Dawson
cursed. “We’re going to have to search the entire place, room by room.”

Niner
looked at the blood on the floor. “If she’s bleeding, she might not have much
time.”

Reading
felt himself tense up.

“Then
let’s stop wasting it.”

Laura looked up as footsteps rapidly approached. She didn’t care who
it was anymore, the pain too great, her strength quickly waning. If they wanted
to kill her, she didn’t care, her spirit having been crushed already today with
the news the doctor had given her only hours before.

“Fräulein!
Are you okay?”

Laura
looked up to see the German hausfrau that had been bringing her meals since her
arrival, even helping her go to the bathroom. The woman had been a godsend and
if there was anyone in this house besides Dr. Heinrich she’d want to see right
now, it was her.

“Helena,”
she whispered, the woman dropping to her knees, helping Laura to a seated
position. “I need you to get me out of here.”

The
woman nodded, helping Laura to her feet then throwing her arm over her
shoulder. They began to walk when Laura stopped and pointed.

“Keys,
phone.”

Helena
steadied Laura against a wall then retrieved the two items, stuffing them in
the pockets of her apron and resuming their walk toward a side door just beyond
the stairs.

“Dr.
Heinrich’s car,” gasped Laura, Helena nodding her understanding as they stepped
into the night, several cars racing from the parking area filled with panicked
staff. Gunfire behind them spurred them toward the modest green Fiat parked
near several BMW’s and a Mercedes.

They
stumbled toward the car, the progress slow and painful, but they finally made
it, Helena unlocking the car and helping Laura into the passenger seat. Once
inside, Helena rounded the car as Laura gasped in pain, both hands now pressing
against her wound, her hands soaked with blood. Helena started the car and
pulled out of the parking spot, putting it in gear and hammering on the gas,
apparently as eager to get away as she was.

“GPS.
Hospital.”

Helena
looked at Laura then at the dash mounted GPS, tapping the display, unsure of
what to do. She cranked the wheel to the right and accelerated as they reached
the road, the house now behind them. Helena returned her attention to the GPS,
one hand on the wheel, the other trying to operate the unfamiliar GPS.

Laura
began to black out, the pain simply too great, when she looked up at the road
and cried out as the car drifted across the lanes, Helena not paying attention.

The car
rolled into the ditch, tossing Laura’s body toward Helena then onto the roof as
the car slid to a halt. She looked over at Helena, lying on the roof beside
her, her neck twisted, eyes wide as they stared into nothing.

“No!”
moaned Laura as her world turned to black.

Church of Santa Maria del Gradaro, Mantua, Italy

James Acton grabbed his phone, answering it immediately, praying it
was Dietrich with word that his wife had been released. They had been waiting
for almost two hours now while the police questioned everyone involved, Giasson
smoothing things over when it had been discovered their intention all along had
been to hand over the relics. He was exhausted and running purely on
adrenaline, unsure of how much more he could take.

“Hello?”

“Hi Jim,
it’s Hugh.”

Acton’s
shoulders slumped. “I thought maybe you were Dietrich.”

“Sorry
to disappoint. We’ve secured the Kruger household but there’s no sign of
Laura.”

Acton
felt his stomach leap, the last of his hope cleaved from him.

He said nothing.

“She was
definitely here. We found her hospital bed and some of her clothes but she’s
gone. They must have taken her with them. An ambulance left earlier with a sick
man, we assume Herr Kruger, but we’re pretty sure she wasn’t in it.”

“But you
can’t be sure.”

“No, we
can’t. But I don’t think they’d put her in an ambulance with him. The police
are beginning to block off all roads in the area. If we’re lucky, they’ll catch
them in their net.”

Lucky.

What a
horrible word.

Lucky.
Lucky if they’ll find my wife. Lucky if she’ll still be alive. Lucky.

He
didn’t blame Reading for the choice of words, it was after all just a word, but
for some reason it struck home as the situation seemed more dire than ever. The
police were at the Kruger residence and the occupants had been forced to flee.
Would the move cause the death of Dietrich’s father? If it did, would Dietrich blame
him? If he did blame him, would he take it out on Laura?

“You
have to find her, Hugh. She’s all I have.”

Two miles from the Kruger residence, Outside Paris, France

Laura woke, her entire body aching, the pain in her stomach a dull throb.
She looked about, disoriented, it taking a few moments before she realized
where she was.

On the
roof of an upside down car.

She
looked out the window but all she could see were the sides of the ditch they
had flipped in, the walls high, but there was something else. Turning her head
slightly she gave a little cry of dismay when she saw the entire front of the
car had slid into a culvert, the chances of them being seen from the road near
impossible.

“James,
help me!” she whispered as she laid herself back down, staring at the body of
the woman who had tried to help save her. She reached out for her hand, to try to
provide some comfort to the newly departed soul, but didn’t have the strength
for it, her arm instead collapsing, her fingers catching on the pocket of the
woman’s apron.

Causing
her cellphone to spill out.

A spark
of hope gave her a momentary surge of energy as her fingers crawled toward the phone.
Holding her thumb against the sensor, the phone activated and she tapped the
screen several times, speed dialing James and putting it on speaker.

The
phone only rang once.

“Laura!”

“Help.
Me.”

She
passed out before she could hear the reply.

Reading sat on the rear bumper of their 4x4, Dawson and Niner
standing nearby as they awaited any word on Laura or the Krugers. His phone
vibrated on his belt and he unclipped it, looking at the call display.

“It’s
Giasson.” He swiped his thumb. “Hello, Mario, any news.”

“Laura
called Jim, he’s on the phone right now with her but she’s not speaking. We
need you to trace the call!”

Reading
snapped his fingers, getting Dawson and Niner’s attention. “We need to trace a
call being made to Jim’s phone, now!” Dawson got his phone out, quickly dialing
as Reading gave Niner Acton’s number. “It’s Laura, she called him but isn’t
saying anything.”

“They’re
still connected?” asked Niner as Dawson began to talk to someone.

“Yes.”

Niner’s
eyes narrowed. “Whose phone?”

“Huh?”

“Whose
phone did she use?”

Reading
stared at him for a moment then jumped up as he realized why Niner was asking.
“Mario, did she use her own phone?”

Muffled
words were exchanged on the other end. “Yes.”

Reading smiled
at Niner, nodding.

“Then
let’s use the equipment in the back!”

“Mario,
I’ll call you back. We’re going to track the cellphone signal from here.”

“Okay,
keep me posted.”

Reading
clipped his phone on his belt as he climbed into the driver’s seat, Dawson in
the passenger seat still on the phone, Niner in the back with the equipment. The
best Dawson’s contact was probably going to provide would be a cellphone tower,
but with the equipment Niner was now activating, they might be able to pinpoint
her exact position.