At the same moment the gunman fired his weapon, Kowalski blasted wildly with his pistol back at the car. The windshield spider-webbed. The car shimmied slightly—enough to throw off the aim of the gunman as he pulled the trigger.
From the grenade launcher, a spiraling trail of smoke rocketed out, passed over Kowalski’s head, and shot down the street. It struck the corner of a building at the next intersection.
Smoke, fire, and bricks blasted outward.
Panicked pedestrians fled in all directions. Cars rammed one another in the intersection. In the lead, Gray reached the crossroads first. He fought through the mess, jerking and swerving through the chaos and smoke, seeking every crack to make his escape.
Seichan and Kowalski closed the distance.
Behind them, the Lamborghini, blocked by the traffic, swerved onto the sidewalk. It accelerated, heedless of the pedestrians in the way.
Once past the intersection, the road cleared. Gray opened the throttle and shot down the street. Seichan kept to his right flank.
“Gray!” Rachel yelled in his ear. She unwrapped one arm from around his waist to point ahead.
Down the street, a second black Lamborghini fishtailed around a corner and sped straight at them. The first car closed from behind.
Rachel pointed to the left. “Stairs!”
Gray spotted an arched pedestrian walkway between two buildings. He turned sharply, braking and skidding on both tires for a full yard, then righted the bike. With a twist of the throttle, he shot toward the stone stairway. Seichan followed, skirting wider but keeping pace.
Gray heard a string of curses flowing from Kowalski, punctuated by pop s from his pistol as he fired at the two sports cars.
Reaching the stairs, Gray downshifted and gunned the engine. Lifting up on his back tire, he hit the stairs and used momentum, balance, and a low gear to ratchet up the steps. Thankfully there was only one flight and the walkway flattened out. Still, the path was narrow and crooked.
Gray shot down the walkway. He didn’t slow. He trusted the guttural growl of the two motorcycles to clear the path of any pedestrians. Still, he risked a glance back. He had no view of the street, but he was sure a gunman or two had been dropped off to give chase. The cars were probably circling around to meet them at the other end.
But where did this walkway end?
Gray had his answer as the path suddenly emptied into a wide plaza. A roadway circled its outer edge. As he shot into the open, Gray gaped at the massive ancient structure that filled the center of the space ahead of him. It climbed high into the sky.
The Coliseum.
But he had no time to sightsee.
“Got company!” Kowalski bellowed and pointed to the right.
Gray turned. The two Lamborghinis swung into the circling street.
“Gray!” Rachel said and pointed to the left.
A third Lamborghini, as sleek and black as the others, shot into view. Somebody had plenty of money to spare.
With no choice, Gray shot straight across the street, cutting through all lanes of traffic and out onto the pedestrian plaza that circled the Coliseum. It was a park of cement walkways, grassy lawns, and stretches of blacktop. Nimbleness was their only hope of escape. And speed.
Unfortunately, the same described a Lamborghini.
All three sports cars left the roadway, angled into the plaza, and closed toward them from both sides.
Gray had no choice.
If it was a race they wanted…
2:23 A.M.
Washington, D.C.
Ensconced before the bank of monitors, Painter stared at the satellite feed from the National Reconnaissance Office. It showed a view of an open plaza in the center of Rome. An ancient amphitheater filled the center. The Coliseum looked like a giant stone eye staring back at him.
“Zoom in closer,” Painter ordered the technician.
“Are you sure that’s Gray?” Monk asked. He and Kat flanked Painter on either side of the monitor.
“The explosion was a block from his hotel. Reports from the police describe a chase under way outside the Coliseum.”
The image on the screen swelled and swept down upon the plaza. Details grew less distinct. But two black cars clearly raced around the periphery of the stone amphitheater. Ahead, a pair of motorcycles sped down walkways and across grassy lawns. One of the bikes shot off the top of a stairway, landed on its back tire, and sped away.
“Yeah,” Monk said with appreciation. “That’s got to be Gray.”
The two cars were rapidly closing the distance.
“There!” Kat said and pointed at the screen.
A third car, coming from the opposite direction, aimed straight for the two bikes. A small explosion erupted near one of the motorcycles, sending a trash can and a section of brick wall high into the air.
“Grenade,” Painter muttered.
What was going on?
Pinned on three sides, the two bikes turned and fled along the only path open to them.
Kat’s voice turned incredulous. “They aren’t…they can’t think…”
Monk leaned closer. “Oh, yeah, that’s definitely Gray.”
9
October 11, 8:23 A.M.
Rome, Italy
Gray leaned hard over the handlebars. Rachel hugged tight to him. He aimed straight for the massive stone structure. It rose fifteen stories at its highest point, climbing in towering levels of immense arches and colossal columns. At the lowest level, each archway entrance was sealed by a tall steel gate, but directly ahead was the main entrance, where tourists normally lined up.
Gray shot straight toward it.
The Coliseum was not yet open to the public at this early hour, but the gates were open, and the crowds had already begun to gather in anticipation. The gunfire and blasts had chased most of them clear. Still, clutches of people took refuge wherever they could. A pair of men dressed as gladiators had even climbed one of the plaza’s trees.
The presence of tourists and bystanders also kept the armed police who guarded the site wary and cautious, discouraging them from shooting out of hand. The guards had cleared the entrance site.
With the way conveniently open, Gray shot toward the main gate.
A single guard stepped into view, ready to defend the site. He leveled his weapon and yelled a warning at them. Rachel screamed back at him. She waved her arm, holding her carabinieri credentials high.
The man hesitated, his face clouded by confusion.
It was enough.
Gray shot past him as he leaped to the side. Seichan followed. They blasted into the outer passageway that circled the central arena. Lined by archways and held up by columns, the enclosed shadowy space was cavernous. The roar of the cycles echoed off the walls, growing into a deafening crescendo.