enough to allow movement but tight enough to minimize snagging or noise. His hands gloved, head masked, even his eyes covered by goggles. Impossible to identify if seen, equally unlikely he would be leaving behind much in the way of forensic evidence, either.
More disturbing than any of that, however, was the filled holster the professor could see hanging from the man’s belt. He also spotted fitted pouches for spare ammunition, and what he thought might be others for grenades. As the two thieves carrying the quartet’s prize began to emerge from the stairwell, Knight’s anger grew exponentially. That his museum was being robbed was enough to anger him by itself. But, the men doing so had brought both guns and explosives with them.
That they would risk any of the irreplaceable artifacts within his museum— his museum—among all of its priceless statues, the paintings, the ancient cups and pieces of jewelry, the tapestries, the tablets, all of it, any of it …
The thought of bullets streaming through his beloved corridors was upsetting enough. The added notion that those looting his museum might be willing to hurl about shrapnel weapons within range of any of its treasures was more than he could tolerate. As the fourth man, the one watching their retreat, emerged into the hallway, the professor admitted to himself that he had the quartet in the best possible place to contain them. They were in a hallway where no art, no curios or trinkets of any kind, was on display.
“I do believe it’s now or never, Piers.”
And, so saying, the professor returned the disc of levitation he had extracted a moment earlier to its place within his suit jacket’s inside pocket. With the disc removed from the atmosphere, its effects began to dissipate, and Knight drifted from his vantage point on the ceiling down toward the rear guard. His plan was simple.With surprise on his side, he would take down the last man, he hoped quietly enough that he would be able to also take out one of the pair carrying off their prize before the others were alerted. Only two yards away from his intended target, the professor was preparing himself for his assault when suddenly the hallway was filled with a blinding light as a voice from the stairwell shouted;
“Four—above you!”
Below him, Knight could just make out the barest outline of the rear guard pulling his automatic free. Then, the overwhelming illumination stole what little was left of the professor’s vision, leaving him helpless.
CHAPTER SIX
“Kill him!”
Once more the order came from behind the blinded Knight. Not wasting time with worrying over how anyone else could possibly be present, the professor instead hurriedly jammed his hand back inside his suit coat, once more pulling free his disc of levitation. The mental commands needed to activate it screaming through his brain, Knight shot toward the ceiling even as the invader identified simply as “Four” opened fire. The man emptied his weapon, laying down a blanket pattern in a crisscrossing direction, then ejected his spent clip. As he pulled free a fresh replacement with professional detachment, slipping the empty inside his belt, the voice from the stairwell screamed at him;
“Did you get the son of a bitch?”
“Can’t tell.”
“And why not?!” The voice roared once more, demanding its answer, screaming to be heard over thestill-echoing ring of the previous gunfire. Uncowed, Four bellowed in return;
“Because I’m half-blind despite the goggles, you moron. You’re supposed to warn people before you illuminate. Before you—”
“Enough.” The stairwell voice screamed the single word. Continuing as loudly as possible, it commanded, “Four, One, find that bastard and eliminate him. Two, Three—keep going. We’ve got to get that damn hunk of rock out of here!”
“Relax,” growled the man designated as “Two.” Hefting his end of their prize, he added reassuringly, “This thing’s no
More disturbing than any of that, however, was the filled holster the professor could see hanging from the man’s belt. He also spotted fitted pouches for spare ammunition, and what he thought might be others for grenades. As the two thieves carrying the quartet’s prize began to emerge from the stairwell, Knight’s anger grew exponentially. That his museum was being robbed was enough to anger him by itself. But, the men doing so had brought both guns and explosives with them.
That they would risk any of the irreplaceable artifacts within his museum— his museum—among all of its priceless statues, the paintings, the ancient cups and pieces of jewelry, the tapestries, the tablets, all of it, any of it …
The thought of bullets streaming through his beloved corridors was upsetting enough. The added notion that those looting his museum might be willing to hurl about shrapnel weapons within range of any of its treasures was more than he could tolerate. As the fourth man, the one watching their retreat, emerged into the hallway, the professor admitted to himself that he had the quartet in the best possible place to contain them. They were in a hallway where no art, no curios or trinkets of any kind, was on display.
“I do believe it’s now or never, Piers.”
And, so saying, the professor returned the disc of levitation he had extracted a moment earlier to its place within his suit jacket’s inside pocket. With the disc removed from the atmosphere, its effects began to dissipate, and Knight drifted from his vantage point on the ceiling down toward the rear guard. His plan was simple.With surprise on his side, he would take down the last man, he hoped quietly enough that he would be able to also take out one of the pair carrying off their prize before the others were alerted. Only two yards away from his intended target, the professor was preparing himself for his assault when suddenly the hallway was filled with a blinding light as a voice from the stairwell shouted;
“Four—above you!”
Below him, Knight could just make out the barest outline of the rear guard pulling his automatic free. Then, the overwhelming illumination stole what little was left of the professor’s vision, leaving him helpless.
CHAPTER SIX
“Kill him!”
Once more the order came from behind the blinded Knight. Not wasting time with worrying over how anyone else could possibly be present, the professor instead hurriedly jammed his hand back inside his suit coat, once more pulling free his disc of levitation. The mental commands needed to activate it screaming through his brain, Knight shot toward the ceiling even as the invader identified simply as “Four” opened fire. The man emptied his weapon, laying down a blanket pattern in a crisscrossing direction, then ejected his spent clip. As he pulled free a fresh replacement with professional detachment, slipping the empty inside his belt, the voice from the stairwell screamed at him;
“Did you get the son of a bitch?”
“Can’t tell.”
“And why not?!” The voice roared once more, demanding its answer, screaming to be heard over thestill-echoing ring of the previous gunfire. Uncowed, Four bellowed in return;
“Because I’m half-blind despite the goggles, you moron. You’re supposed to warn people before you illuminate. Before you—”
“Enough.” The stairwell voice screamed the single word. Continuing as loudly as possible, it commanded, “Four, One, find that bastard and eliminate him. Two, Three—keep going. We’ve got to get that damn hunk of rock out of here!”
“Relax,” growled the man designated as “Two.” Hefting his end of their prize, he added reassuringly, “This thing’s no
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