Shatterproof (6 page)

“Do we wait for Dan?” Atticus asked, breathing hard.

“We leave together or we don’t leave at all,” Amy said as she frantically scanned the people stumbling through the darkness.

People were using the light of their cell phones to find the exit. Some of them were injured and being helped by others.

“The lights are thinning out,” she said. “It’ll be hard for us to hide without a crowd.”

“Try calling him again,” Atticus suggested.

Amy hit his speed dial. It rang and rang, then went to voice mail. . . .

“Dan here. The reason I didn’t pick up is because I’m probably eating something delicious. Leave a message and I’ll —”

Someone wrapped their arms around Amy from behind. She screamed and jerked her head toward Atticus. A second man had grabbed him at the exact same moment.
Rommel!
She tried to stomp on her captor’s foot, but he danced away and threw her to the ground. Her arms were wrenched behind her back and she felt the cold bite of handcuffs snapping around her wrists.

“Sorry . . . sorry . . . excuse me . . . sorry . . .
umph . . .
sorry . . .”

Dan stopped near the Ishtar Gate to catch his breath. He hadn’t seen Vanek’s flashlight beam in a couple of minutes, but he knew the Interpol agent was somewhere behind him in the dark. He wondered if he should double back and take another shot at the diamond now, or find a place to hide and tackle it later, after the museum emptied out. He looked at his watch and nearly vomited. There would be no later. Their time was up.

Someone is going to die.

The litany pounded across his brain until he couldn’t focus on anything else. The horror of it burst out of his mouth in a terrible scream, and he didn’t care if everyone in Berlin heard him. That’s when his legs were pulled out from under him. He hit the marble floor hard and all the air rushed out of his lungs. As he lay gasping for breath, a flashlight clicked on, illuminating the jack-o’-lantern face of Agent Milos Vanek. Dan tried to get away, but found himself cuffed to Vanek’s wrist.

“I go where you go,” Vanek said. “We will wait here until the lights come back on. Perhaps we can have a nice conversation while we watch the people bump into each other.” He scooted under the velvet rope near a stanchion and leaned against the wall of the Ishtar Gate.

Dan had no choice but to join him.

“Why were you screaming?”

Dan didn’t answer. At the moment he was almost angrier at himself than he was at Vesper One. How could he have let Vanek sneak up on him?

“Cat has tongue? Okay. Change subject. I assume your sister is in the museum.”

“If you don’t let me go, someone is going to die,” Dan said, surprised to feel hot tears of frustration running down his face.

“No need for tears. I can help. I am a policeman.”

“I’m not crying,” Dan said, turning his face away. “And I don’t need your help. I just need you to let me go.”

“That might be possible,” Vanek said. “After you tell us about stealing the Caravaggio ‘Medusa’ and the Marco Polo manuscript, and your escape from jail. When I get you and your sister into head-quarters I should not take more than a week to straighten this out.”

Dan did not have a week, or a day, or a minute. He dragged a hand across his face to wipe the tears away. He didn’t have time for crying, either. Vesper One could kill all of the hostages in a week.

“The Caravaggio painting we took from the Uffizi Gallery was a fake,” he said. “We found the real one and it was returned. No one even knew the Marco Polo manuscript existed, so you can’t very well accuse us of stealing it. As for the jailbreak, we didn’t escape. Your coworker Luna Amato let us out.”

“Luna Amato is not my coworker!” Vanek spit the words out like he had just taken a bite of cow dung. Dan felt spittle spray his face. “She is a traitor! If I could just get my hands on her I would . . .” Vanek raised his hands like he was throttling someone. “Wait a minute, what!?”

Dan stood up, rubbing his wrist. “Sorry, Milos, I gotta go.” He reached down and took the flashlight and grabbed his pack.

Lightfinger Larry would have been proud. While Vanek was talking, Dan had lifted his keys and wallet. He had removed the handcuff from his wrist and reattached it to a stanchion.

“Unlock these cuffs!” Vanek shouted.

Dan raced off, taking little satisfaction in getting away from the Interpol agent. He ran across the lobby, trying to keep back fresh tears, his thoughts focused on the diamond. His only hope was that Amy had found a way to grab it. People were pouring out through the front doors. The police and television crews had arrived and were setting up equipment. He was reaching for his cell to call Amy when someone grabbed him. But Dan wasn’t going to be taken again. He swung the heavy flashlight.

“It’s me!” a familiar voice shouted as Jake wrenched the flashlight out of his hand.

“I thought you were in the car,” Dan answered lamely.

“I got tired of waiting. And it’s lucky I did. I got here just in time to see two guys manhandle Atticus and Amy through there.” He pointed the flashlight at a door.

“‘Security. Do not enter,’” Jake translated.

“We have to get Atticus and Amy out of there.”

Jake nodded. “Where were you?”

“Up in the Jubilee room with Milos Vanek.”

“He’s here?”

Dan explained what had happened.

Jake’s voice brightened. “So you have his wallet?”

Dan took it out. “And his car keys.”

“We don’t need the keys for what I have in mind.” Jake raised his eyebrow. “Do you
really
know how to drive?”

Despite the tears and the tight feeling in his chest, Dan managed a weak smile as Jake explained what he wanted to do.

This sounded like Dan’s kind of plan.

Amy and Atticus had been handcuffed together and pushed into two hard chairs against the wall. Rommel stood in front of them, flicking a flashlight beam on their faces as he interrogated them. So far neither one had answered any of his questions, which seemed to make him very angry. A guard stood nearby, shifting from foot to foot, and Amy could only guess that he was a little uneasy watching his boss yell at two children. Amy was trying to think of a way of taking advantage of the guard’s nerves when there was a knock at the door.

“Tell whoever it is to go away,” Rommel shouted.

The guard opened the door, spoke to the visitor for a moment, then walked back and whispered something to Rommel.

“Really?” Rommel said. “By all means, let him in. Perhaps these two will talk to Interpol.”

Atticus leaned over to Amy and whispered, “Milos Vanek?”

“It must be,” Amy whispered back.

“What do you —”

“No talking!” Rommel shouted, then turned to the man walking into the security room. “Agent Vanek. We are honored to have you here.”

“I am not Agent Vanek,” the man said. “I am Gale Monist.” He flashed an Interpol badge. “Vanek and I are working together. I’m looking for him.”

Amy and Atticus tried to hide their surprise. They knew that voice. The flashlight showed a man wearing a trench coat and hat, who looked like he had a mustache, although it was hard to tell in the dark.

“Agent Vanek was in the museum just before we lost power,” Rommel said. “I couldn’t tell you if he is still in the building or not. Have you tried his mobile?”

“Of course,” Agent Monist said impatiently. “He’s not answering, which is why I knocked on your door. And you are . . . ?”

“Alberich Rommel, Director of Security.”

Agent Monist turned toward them. “And these are . . . ? My God! Amy Cahill! She’s the reason Vanek and I are here. Who’s the boy?”

“Her accomplice, I believe, but both of them refuse to answer my questions.”

“We’ll see if a trip to Interpol loosens their tongues,” Agent Monist said.

“Not before they answer
my
questions,” Rommel said. “Until they do, they will remain in my custody.”

“Your custody?” Agent Monist’s voice rose. “I wasn’t aware that the Pergamon had a sanctioned police organization.”

“Of course it doesn’t,” Rommel said. “But I apprehended them here and before they leave I must determine what damage they have caused to our collection.”

“I see,” Agent Monist said. “How did you lose your power?”

“The boy.”

Agent Monist stared at Atticus. Atticus looked away, trying not to smile.

“I assume your power grid is controlled in this room.”

“Yes.”

“How did the boy get inside?”

Rommel hesitated. “I was giving him a tour.”

“So, you
let
him in?”

Before Rommel could answer, Agent Monist got a call. He took his cell phone out of his trench coat.

“Yes . . . Where are you? . . . I’m inside the museum. . . . They have Amy Cahill and a boy. . . . No. A Herr Rommel wants to talk to them first. . . . I see. . . . Just stay where you are and I’ll be out in a minute.” He put the phone back in his pocket and looked at Rommel. “That was Milos Vanek. He’s waiting out front for me in the car. He said that the news organizations have shown up. I suspect they will be wanting to talk to you about how this all happened. How you let the boy in the security room, how your security was breached by children, et cetera, or I can . . . Oh, never mind.” He turned to leave.

“Wait,” Rommel said. “Or you can what?”

Agent Monist turned back. “Or, I can take them out of here very, very quietly and when you speak to the media you can say that you don’t know how the power went off, but Interpol is investigating. If they call us, which they will, we will back you up without giving them any details about your . . .” He paused. “Your unfortunate
tour
.” He looked at his watch. “I have to leave. Agent Vanek and I are due back at headquarters for an important meeting.”

“Take them,” Rommel said with disgust. “And if you can get the boy to tell you the passcode he used to lock our system, it would be greatly appreciated.”

“We’ll get the passcode out of him,” Agent Monist said. “And everything else he knows. You two come with me.”

Amy and Atticus jumped to their feet.

Rommel escorted them to the entrance of the museum, but quickly faded back as soon as he saw the news vans outside.

Agent Monist, aka Jake Rosenbloom, draped his trench coat over the handcuffs so the news people wouldn’t notice them as they hurried across the square.

“Where’s Dan?” Amy asked.

“Agent Vanek is in the car, waiting for us at the curb.”

Amy and Atticus climbed into the back of the SUV. Jake went around to the driver’s side and opened the door.

“Scoot over.”

“I got it,” Dan said, his hands on the steering wheel.

“Forget it, Dan,” Amy said.

“I drove it here.”

“One block,” Amy said. “Move over. There are police everywhere. We have to get out of here.”

“Without the diamond,” Dan said. His face was ashen.

“We’ll talk about it as we drive.”

Dan scooted over. Jake pulled away from the curb and left the Pergamon disaster behind.