The Sacred Vault_ A Novel - Andy McDermott [82]
Zec was where he had left him - and a brief glance confirmed that Mac was too, standing as he saw Eddie. The Scotsman made his way to the doors, crossing in front of his friend - and passing him something while Zec’s view was momentarily blocked. Eddie slipped the object into his pocket and sat beside the mercenary as Mac left the hotel.
‘Do you have it?’ Zec asked.
Eddie opened the case. The Talonor Codex gleamed inside. With a slightly disbelieving look, Zec raised the cover to confirm that it was genuine. Scribed metal sheets were revealed within.
‘What?’ said Eddie. ‘Don’t look so fucking shocked, I told you I’d get it. Now . . .’ He closed the case and lifted it on to his knees - then pulled Mac’s revolver from his pocket. ‘A trade’s a trade. You get this; I get Nina. Sound fair?’
Zec didn’t appear surprised that Eddie had acquired a gun. ‘She is with Mr Khoil in his plane.’
‘And where’s his plane?’
‘A private airport, upstate.’
‘Then take me to it. We need to get moving - I attracted some attention at the UN. The quicker I’m out of here, the better.’
‘Give me the case,’ said Zec. Eddie stared at him coldly. ‘You still have the gun. But I take the case.’ After a moment, Eddie passed it to him. ‘Good. Now, let’s go.’
They both stood. Eddie pocketed the gun and started towards the exit, Zec following - just as a man and a woman emerged from an elevator across the lobby. Seeing them through the glass doors, the crowd outside responded with excited cries and camera flashes.
Grant Thorn was the man - and Macy Sharif was his companion, both of them dressed to party . . . with a slightly dishevelled look that suggested they had just come from a private event of their own. Another man hurriedly stood and joined them; a bodyguard, muscles bulging beneath his dark suit. He opened a door for the couple, holding up a hand to wave back Eddie and Zec. ‘Let ’em through, let ’em through, please.’ Annoyed, Zec tried to push past, but Eddie stopped in front of him.
The star and the student stepped out on to the street to be greeted by strobes, shrieks and shouted questions from paparazzi and fans alike. ‘Grant, Grant!’ one photographer called. ‘Who’s the babe?’
‘Where’s Jessica?’ another demanded.
‘Which one?’ asked the snapper next to him.
‘Any of ’em!’ He fired his camera in the couple’s faces. Grant blinked, and Macy flinched back. ‘She know about this, huh?’
‘Grant, over here!’ someone else yelled. ‘It’s me, Sally! I was at the premiere of Nitrous, remember? You said you liked my hair!’ Hands were thrust over the shoulders of the front row, more cameraphones flashing. The paparazzi exchanged irritated looks at having their pitch invaded by amateurs and tried to shove them back, arousing shrill complaints from the crowd.
‘Come on, let ’em through!’ the bodyguard growled. The hotel staff moved to part the crowd so they could reach the limo that had just arrived.
‘Fuck this for a game of soldiers,’ said Eddie impatiently. He went through the door and barged into the throng, elbowing a photographer out of his way. The man staggered and knocked over a young woman, who shrieked.
Her friends pushed back. The crowd became a scrum, arms and legs flailing. Eddie forced his way between them, Zec right behind. The heavy briefcase bashed against shins and thighs.
Grant and Macy reached the limo, the bodyguard and doormen pushing people back so its door could be opened. A ripple surged through the crowd, another fan tripping with a scream. A photographer stumbled over her to the pavement, glass cracking in his lens.
Eddie stopped, path blocked. Zec pushed up behind him - and a man fell against the Bosnian, almost knocking him over. The briefcase jolted in his hand as something bashed against it and dropped to the ground. He looked down sharply, but the handle was still firmly in his grasp as the man struggled to recover his own fallen case. Zec raised an arm to swat him away.
‘Hey, hey!’ yelled a woman before he could make the swing. ‘NYPD - everyone, move back!