into those men,” she said, pulling Xavier’s hand down in case the men should look up and in their direction.
“What should we do?” Xavier said.
“Dumas?” Francesca asked.
“I’m thinking.”
“We need a distraction,” she said.
“Short of calling them over here, what do you suggest?” Dumas said.
“Exactly that. Xavier and I can pull them off, we owe them that much. When they follow us, you get over there, watch out for Griffin and Sydney. If they make it out, you give warning. Give us an hour to meet back with you.”
“Where?” Dumas asked.
The only place she could think of was the café around the corner from the hotel where Griffin had the room. She knew he had to eventually make his way there to rescue his friend. Alfredo and Dumas would return to the café, then call the police if they weren’t back in an hour.
Dumas nodded, and she put her hand on his arm. “You need to not stand out,” she continued. “If any of these men are the ones who shot at us up on the Passegiata, they might be looking for a priest. Perhaps you can remove the clerical collar?”
Dumas reached up, pulled it off, unbuttoned the top collar of his shirt, and instantly transformed himself from man of God to man about town.
She turned to Xavier. “Ready?”
“Yeah,” he said, though he didn’t look too sure.
They hurried across the street, heading toward Adami’s men. She took Xavier’s map, pretended to be looking at it with him. “We have to get their attention,” she whispered. “We need them to follow us away from the chapel, and then we’ve got to lose them.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Let’s hope not,” she said, looking up over the top of the map. “Because here they come.” And then she lowered the map, looked the men directly in the eye, gave her best impression of surprise, then screamed. “Oh my God! They found us!” She grabbed Xavier’s hand. “Run!”
Sydney ducked behind an urn filled with gold, drawing her weapon. A bullet ricocheted off the urn next to her, cracking it. By some small miracle, it didn’t break. But sand started sifting through between it and the urn beside it.
Griffin crouched beside her, hefted his gun in his hand. “We need to get out of here. That sand moves, we’re as good as dead.”
“We’re as good as dead anyway, if we don’t know which tunnel to take.”
They crouched even lower as another shot rang out. “And which one would you take?”
“Let’s give the guy credit for being a mad genius. He sent us down a specific path. That means he’s logical. The bone clock at the crypt. His watch with the same time, and clocks that aren’t clocks could be considered compasses. The tunnel that points north.”
“Then I’ll cover you, and you go for it.”
“And what are you going to do?” she asked.
“Hold them off. At least one of us gets out of here alive.”
“Are you nuts? You’re going to sacrifice yourself?”
“You think of a better idea?”
“Not at the moment. But hell if I’m going to let you lord it over me from eternity. And if they kill you, what’s to stop them from following me up the tunnel? I’ll be a sitting duck.”
Griffin peered around an urn, aimed, fired. The shot echoed throughout the cavern. “We’re about to run out of ammo, which makes it a moot point.”
Sydney glanced back at the corpse. “I have an idea,” she said. “I need you to go to the north tunnel.”
He didn’t move.
“I am not her. Trust me on this,” she said. “For once.”
“Why?”
“I can reach the tube without exposing myself by scooting on my belly behind that chest. You can’t. If you’re already at the tunnel, you can cover me.”
“And then?”
She took a breath, smiled. “And then we save the last couple shots to see if di Sangro knew what he was doing. We bring this place down.”
35
Sydney kept an eye on the two men, wondering if she’d truly lost her mind, thinking she could spring di Sangro’s trap. What if it was an elaborate hoax, like the curse in the pyramids to ward off grave robbers? Or what if the sand was merely there to keep some deadly plague hidden and out of sight?
Griffin fired off two rounds. “This plan of yours…I’m not sure we have enough ammo to break these urns and try to keep them at bay.”
“I’ve already thought of that.” By her calculations, she had maybe three shots left. “Just watch for my cue, and