He now knew why the Guild had grown so excited. The group had always been fixated on the roots of ancient knowledge, especially Egyptian. Father Giovanni must have suspected an Egyptian connection and let it leak out, sparking the Guild's sudden interest.

He stared down at the symbol, one they'd encountered before while dealing with the Guild years ago: conical depictions of a sacred meal.

The symbol represented what was called shrewbread, or the bread of the gods. It was fed to the pharaohs to open their minds to divinity. Had the dark queen Meritaten brought more than just a miraculous embalming compound from Egypt? Had she carried forth some of the shrewbread? Had Malachy consumed it, touched the divine, and experienced his visions?

Gray stared down at the symbol drawn in the front of the book.

Before any of them could explore it further, a blast rocked down from above. This explosion was louder. It stung his ears. Smoke and rock dust swept out of the tunnel and into the chamber.

"They're through," Seichan said.

Gray swung to Kowalski. "Get your rifle and-"

But before the big man could move, Wallace deftly plucked the weapon out of Kowalski's hands. The professor swung the rifle at them. He backed in a shuffle of steps toward the tunnel.

"I don't think so," Wallace said.

From the passageway, six soldiers rushed into the chamber, followed by a tall woman with a Sig Sauer pistol held in her hand.

Wallace glanced back. "'Bout time you got down here, lassie."

Chapter 32

October 14, 4:15 P.M.

Clairvaux, France

Krista appreciated the shocked looks on their faces. Especially the Eurasian woman's. Even through the blood, her fury shone back at Krista like an open flame. The anger only warmed Krista further. After all the hardships in getting here, this moment was almost worth it.

Almost.

"You didn't think you were my only asset out here?" Krista asked calmly. "What's trust without an extra bit of insurance?"

Wallace joined her with his rifle.

She nudged her elbow in his direction. "Wallace and I have been a good team from the start. Back since he first discovered that pathologic fungus. The professor was also kind enough to warn us about Father Giovanni's betrayal. The priest should have been more careful to whom he made his confession."

A small laugh escaped her, unbidden, bubbling forth from a mix of elation and raw-edged relief. She fought it back down, hating the moment of weakness. Anger took its place and helped anchor her.

She steadied her voice and glanced at Wallace. "What about the key? Is it here?"

Wallace grinned. "Aye, and we found it. It's in that jar over yonder."

Gray Pierce backed up a step. "We had a deal."

She didn't have time for such foolishness or naïveté. "Khattab, go get it."

To discourage any last-minute treachery, Krista kept her pistol pointed at the Italian woman. With no choice, Gray handed over the stone jar.

In turn, Khattab left them something in exchange. As she had arranged, he placed the steel suitcase on the floor and retreated back with the key.

Gray stared down at the case. From his expression, he already guessed its contents.

She elaborated. "An incendiary bomb using kinetic fireballs. New design out of China. Burns for a very long time. Hot enough to incinerate the bricks off the walls. Can't leave anything behind."

Gray stepped forward. "At least take Rachel with you," he pleaded. "Honor that much."

She shook her head and felt an odd twinge of respect for the man. Along with a trickle of sorrow. She recognized the pain in those eyes, along with the wellspring from which it rose. Would anyone ever make such a sacrifice for her?

With an exasperated sigh, she offered the only bit of consolation she could. "I'm afraid it wouldn't do any good. I wasn't entirely truthful. The vial of toxin Wallace left in that drop box for Seichan has no cure. It's a hundred percent fatal. She's likely experiencing its effects already. Dying here will be swifter, less painful."

Krista retreated from the shocked expression on his face. The Italian woman turned away and buried her face in Gray's chest.

Krista turned to Khattab. "Let's go. Make sure your man blows the entrance to the tunnel before evacuating."

She was done here.

Or almost.

She turned and pointed her pistol at Wallace. His eyes widened. She pulled the trigger and shot him in the stomach. He didn't cry out, just gasped and fell on his backside.

His face screwed up in a mask of pain as he supported himself with one arm. "You don't know what you're doing."

She shrugged and shifted the pistol toward his head.

"I'm Echelon," he spat at her.

She froze, shocked. She struggled to make sense of the claim. Could it be true? Only a few people alive even knew the name Echelon.

She kept her pistol leveled. She remained unsure, but she knew one thing for certain. The only way to move up in this organization-there had to be room at the top.

She squeezed the trigger.

Wallace's head cracked back, then forward. He collapsed to the floor.

She swung around and headed toward the tunnel. She expected no repercussions. Her orders had been to kill everyone.

All of them, she remembered.

"Let's go!"

She hurried with the others up the tunnel. Khattab kept to her side with the stone jar cradled under one arm. Sunlight flowed ahead and drew them forward. A rubble pile led to freedom through the blasted door.

She wanted to be out of there as soon as they were aboveground. The prison was growing too hot. Gunfire echoed down to them.

She followed the soldiers topside. They scrambled as a group out of darkness and into sunlight. It took her an extra moment to realize how loud the gunfire was. It wasn't until Khattab fell to one knee, then down to his side, that she recognized the danger.

Half his face was gone. The stone jar rolled from his dead arms out into the sunlit garden.

More men fell around her as she spun and dove behind a pillar.

The war had reached them.

Overhead, a loud eruption of flames drew her eye. She watched one of their helicopters explode in a fireball of smoke and flaming debris. It spun and slammed to the ground.

Her heart pounded.

What was going on?

Then across the garden, she spotted who was firing, who had ambushed her team. Men in French military uniforms. But more than that, she recognized the man in the lead.

Impossible.

It was that damned Indian.

Painter Crowe.

Her heart pounded-not with fear, but with a rage that burned away all reason. She reached into a pocket and pressed the transmitter. The ground bumped under her, and the explosion blasted. Smoke rolled up out of the hole in the ground.

There would be no rescue for his teammates.

Using the distraction and smoke, Krista fell back into the shadows. She didn't fool herself. Trapped in the prison with her team overwhelmed, all was lost. She had only one objective left. She had made a promise to herself before she left Norway, a promise she intended to keep.

4:20 P.M.

The firefight ended as suddenly as it started.

Painter's group had been caught off guard by the sudden appearance of a contingent of hostiles pouring out of a hole in the ground. His team had failed to spot the tunnel opening buried in the shadows of a blasted section of the cloisters.

But the last of the enemy had fallen.

The French soldiers spread out and through the garden. They kept rifles on their shoulders, moving swiftly and purposely.