after.”
Henriksen frowned. “Treasure?” Then he blinked, smiling, and his eyes lit up. “It would be nice.”
Drake shook his head. Something was off. He just couldn’t put his finger on it.
“Say you find it,” Sully put in. “What happens then? You try to hurt Jada and I will kill you.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Henriksen said. “And you have my word. We have no intention of killing any of you.”
Sully glanced at Drake and Jada. “Strangely, I don’t feel comforted.”
Neither did Drake. There were pieces that didn’t fit. The hooded men might have murdered Luka and Cheney. They might even have set Luka’s apartment on fire. But the van full of guys with guns who tried to kill all three of them at the site of that fire in New York? That wasn’t the spooky ninja dudes’ style—not at all.
Drake glanced at Jada, then at Sully, and he had a feeling they were putting it together as well. Maybe not specifics, but he figured they had their suspicions. None of them was in a frame of mind to join forces with a guy who had sent a hit squad after them, not to mention the thugs who’d tried to abduct Jada in Egypt. All along they had wanted the journal and whatever information Drake and Sully had helped Jada gather. Whether Henriksen had ordered Luka murdered and hacked apart didn’t really matter in the end.
“I’m glad to hear you say that,” Drake told Henriksen. He smiled at Olivia, making sure to put as much of a chill in his expression as possible. “Thing is, we’re not interested in partnering up. We’re doing this for Luka. And whatever we find at the end of the rainbow, it’s not going to end up in your pocket.”
For a long moment, Drake thought Henriksen would change his mind about killing them. The man stiffened, his smile frozen into a mask that barely hid his fury. But then Olivia touched his arm, stroking his bicep before gripping his wrist. The thugs all sensed their boss’s tension, and the promise of violence seemed to wake something in their eyes.
“Tyr,” she said.
Henriksen exhaled. Relaxed. The thugs seemed disappointed.
“If this ends in bloodshed, it won’t be because I didn’t attempt another way,” he said to Jada. Then he focused on Drake and Sully. “You’ve been doing such a good job of making your way through the labyrinth so far,” he said, nodding once at Sully. “Thank you, Mr. Sullivan, for so clearly marking the way with your initials. We might’ve gotten lost if not for you.”
“Bite me,” Sully growled.
Any trace of amusement in Henriksen’s face faded away. “As I said, you’ve done well thus far. I’m inclined to let you continue.”
With the barrel of his gun he gestured them toward the left-hand fork, where the floor sloped steeply away, just as it had on the right. The gunmen moved out of the way to let them by. Olivia studied Jada as if hoping for some kind of acknowledgment, but Jada wouldn’t even look at her.
“Lead on,” Henriksen said.
Grimly, Drake and Sully exchanged a look, both well aware that moving forward was their only choice and only hope. Sully shone his flashlight down into the sharply sloped tunnel, and they began to descend.
A gunshot split the air like the crack of a bullwhip. Drake turned in a crouch and drew his gun, pushing in front of Jada and Sully. Shouts came from the split in the corridor behind them. Flashlight beams crisscrossed, blinding him for a moment, throwing shadows that separated a moment later to reveal a scuffle that sent echoes bouncing off the walls.
He saw Henriksen struggling with a black-clad hooded figure. The big blond man slammed the hooded killer against the wall and tore a long curved blade from his hands. A flashlight beam illuminated Henriksen’s back, and Drake saw the blood spreading from a knife wound there. Now the big man returned the favor, driving the blade into the hooded man’s gut.
“I wondered when those sons of bitches would show up,” Sully rumbled. He gripped his pistol and moved to pass Drake, headed toward the fighting.
“No, don’t,” Jada said, grabbing his arm. “This is our chance.”
“Chance for what?” Sully said. “To see who wins the right to kill us?”
More gunshots rang out. Men shouted in pain and grunted with the effort of their struggle. One of the Greeks lay on the floor of the corridor, throat cut, bleeding out onto the stone. Drake tried to make out how