Chasing Gold Read online

  David Leadbeater

  Chasing Gold

  CHAPTER ONE

  Standing at a bare, undraped window, staring at the façade of the National Museum of American History where it let out onto Constitution Avenue wasn’t quite Alicia Myles’ idea of a fun night. It was pitch black; it was cold; it was incredibly boring.

  Rob Russo, at her side, met her distant gaze with one of frustration. “C’mon, Myles, it’s barely 22:00 hours. Cheer up, woman.”

  “Crap. That just makes it worse. Do you know how many different things I could be doing at 22:00 hours?”

  Russo looked wary. “Is that a sex joke?”

  “No, it’s not a bloody sex joke. Except… now that you’ve mentioned it, you just made everything worse.”

  “Poor you.”

  “Oh, cheer up, Russo. I’m sure there’s a rhino around here that you could mate with.”

  Alicia enjoyed the weary look that came into Russo’s eyes. Their relationship was a strained one, made up of soldiers’ mutual respect and loyalty but tainted by Russo’s resistance to change and Alicia’s hard-headed resistance to absolutely everything.

  It had stemmed from Alicia being the newest addition to the Gold crew.

  But that was no longer the case.

  The new elephant in the room was currently being ignored by both of them. This latest presence raised the recent specter of death, a specter they’d prefer to keep at bay.

  “We’re lucky you were already here in DC,” Russo mumbled, sounding as if he thought the exact opposite.

  “Well, my team’s HQ is here, Rob. You know that.”

  “Yeah.” It was a glum sigh.

  “You’re even luckier that my team and I were exonerated. We’ve been on the run for months.”

  Russo’s face tightened. “I know.”

  Alicia finally looked beyond the immense figure to take in the rest of the room. Their boss, Michael Crouch, hadn’t moved since she arrived — perched on the edge of a plastic chair with a cellphone stuck to his ear, talking quietly. Hopefully, Alicia thought, it’s about the mission. She’d be upset if she found out he’d just ordered pizza.

  Caitlyn Nash stood at the back of the room, flicking through a folder that had been provided by the FBI. Alicia saw her bright eyes glaze more than once, and wished she knew how the twenty-two-year-old had coped through the last few months.

  Still, there would be time to catch up with all that.

  And that left the new guy. Crouch had introduced him as Will Austin, a fresh, utterly green recruit who, apparently, could get himself into endless trouble just crossing the road. So far, nobody had mentioned young Austin’s forte. Alicia had eyed Russo and received the long-suffering eyeball-roll as a reply.

  Don’t ask.

  An interesting topic for later. Alicia checked her watch for perhaps the hundredth time and then turned back to the window that overlooked Constitution Avenue.

  “I don’t get it,” she admitted quietly to Russo. “Don’t you guys hunt gold? Why the hell are we staring at a museum?”

  “We don’t only hunt gold,” Russo told her. “Twice now, we’ve prevented the theft of it. You were… otherwise engaged.”

  “Don’t the Smithsonian have security for that kind of thing?”

  “Yep, but as outside contractors we’ve earned a special reputation. Especially when you add all the treasures that we’ve found into the mix. They trust us implicitly. And, you know Crouch — he has all the contacts in the world.”

  Alicia did know Crouch. Their boss was an ex-SAS commander who’d started at the very bottom and worked his way to the top before retiring early. Despite his calling, the man’s passion had always centered on treasure and treasure hunting. Life had never been sweeter for Crouch than when he’d formed the Gold Team and set off scouring the world in search of ancient artifacts. A gig guarding the Smithsonian alongside the FBI would come easy to him.

  Still, there were questions.

  And she’d been waiting around ninety minutes to start asking them.

  “Hey,” she interrupted Crouch’s interminable conversation. “You planning on putting that thing down this year?”

  Will Austin looked over from his perch by the windowsill. “Cellphones.” He shook his head. “I have the same problem with my girlfriend.”

  “You have a girlfriend?” Alicia allowed briefly. “Does she come with a washing label?”

  “You lost me.”

  Alicia sighed deeply. “Shit, this is gonna be harder than I thought.”

  Russo leaned over. “I don’t think the kid has a sense of humour.”

  “Hardly surprising,” Alicia said. “His pants are made by Pampers.”

  Finally, Crouch finished his call and made his way over to her. “Thanks for coming over, Alicia. I thought you’d want to be part of this. How are the others?”

  She scrunched up her nose in thought. “Well, we’re all good, surprisingly. The government exonerated everyone, as you know, but that was only a few days ago. The last job took its toll, so a bit of rest is in order. Unfortunately…” she tailed off.

  Crouch caught the ominous tone in her voice. “Unfortunately, what?”

  “It’s hard to explain. But… you know when you get that feeling that you’re smack bang in the middle of something,” she looked around, “but you just can’t see it?”

  “I do.” Crouch nodded. “Used to be a fundamental mission emotion.”

  “Put it this way,” Alicia said. “I don’t wanna stay away from DC for too long. I’m afraid of what I’d come back to.”

  Crouch nodded earnestly. “Well, if you need our help don’t hesitate to ask.”

  Alicia smiled. “I will. But, for now, what the hell do we have here? I’m not used to working with—” she lowered her voice “—the authorities.” The whisper was filled with horror and came with a raised eyebrow.

  Crouch tried to retain the earnest smile but failed. “Well, yeah, it came as a bit of a surprise to me too, if I’m being honest. I have a good friend that works for the FBI, and they’re aware of the previous treasures we found and then ensured were returned to the people that were due them. They like our non-profit ideal, surmising we’re in it for the right reasons.”

  Alicia blinked. “You sure we’re talking about the FBI here?”

  Crouch shrugged. “Just a small department, if I’m being honest. My friend contacted me a few days ago. She received Intel that the Smithsonian was about to be robbed.”

  Alicia was electrified. “She?”

  “Is that all you heard? Bloody hell, Alicia, this could go down at any minute.”

  “Let’s hope.” She checked her watch. “I can still catch Peaky Blinders if they’re quick.”

  “The intelligence is that two highly elusive super-thieves have been contracted to steal the original Star-Spangled Banner for a terrorist state that then plans to burn it live on television in front of the entire nation which, as you can imagine, is an act that would inflame another generation of terrorists, severely embarrass the US government, and demotivate the people. Hell, the effects would be felt worldwide.”

  Alicia stared out the window across Constitution toward the gray façade that was the National Museum of American History. She knew the far side backed onto the National Mall, not far from the Washington Monument. “You have guys around the back?”

  Crouch sighed. “They have guys watching from every conceivable direction. These thieves though — a Japanese woman named Terri Lee and an American named Paul Cutler — are famous for their ingenuity and… slipperiness. I don’t like it.”

  “Then position people inside.”

  “We have.”

  “Where did the Intel come from?”

  “I told you—”


  “I don’t mean your shagpiece, Michael. I mean initially.”

  “Informants,” Crouch admitted. “And she’s not my—”

  “Yeah, yeah. How long have you been here?”

  “Three hours now.”

  “And nobody’s approached the museum?”

  “Nope. They closed it immediately and kept the public away. They’re taking this with a high priority of seriousness.”

  “Good, they should. The repercussions alone could tear a fragile economy apart. It would be nice to catch those thieves in the act though.”

  Crouch checked his comms. “Still nobody approaching.”

  Caitlyn crouched down beside them, small laptop balanced atop both hands. “I’m hooked into the chatter through this. The FBI have spread a two-block wide net. Everyone coming and going is vetted. Tourists mostly. Luckily, the majority of the city workers have left. Watchers have been positioned on the mall, around the Washington Monument, on nearby roofs and up and down Constitution.”

  “Why don’t they close the road?” Russo asked.

  “Most of the firepower is here, watching the road,” Caitlyn said. “Alicia was right — they want to catch the thieves in the act.”

  “Dangerous,” Russo said.

  “It’s two thieves.” Austin shrugged. “Easy peasy.”

  Alicia stared at him. “Greenhorn, wise up. Every time you say something stupid I’m gonna put my foot up your ass. Okay?”

  Austin winced. Russo looked pained. “My advice, kid? Buy some lube while you can ’cause that’s not an idle threat.”

  Austin backed away. Crouch continued to monitor the comms. Alicia saw a couple wandering past the window, hand in hand, and made a quick decision.

  “C’mon, Robster, let’s go for a stroll.”

  Russo gave her a pained look and didn’t respond to the offered hand. Instead, he started to grumble. Alicia grabbed his arm and manhandled him through the door, out into the street.

  “Now, try to look natural. We’re just lovers, out for a romantic breath of air.”

  Russo looked decidedly unwell. Alicia linked arms and wandered to the curb, taking her time to look out for traffic. It was by no means clear-cut that the thieves were aware the museum had closed early, nor that it was being watched. The museum staff had done a good job of quietly ushering people away. The night air was cool, propelled by intermittent gusts of wind. Washington DC was never still and never quiet, but out here by the Smithsonian tonight Alicia felt a sense of isolation. Her missions with the SPEAR team had kept her incredibly busy during the last few months, making this reunion feel just a little forlorn. She looked up at Russo as they walked.

  “Turn your comms off for a minute.”

  The big man complied. “I thought you might have an ulterior motive for this.”

  “Yeah, too crowded back there for delicate subjects. Are you okay?”

  Russo let out a shuddering sigh as they reached the other side of the road. “It’s been hard,” he said. “Since Healey died. Caitlyn was a mess, a broken wreck, and then she told us all about why she burned out at such a young age and struggled to trust. I guess you already know what happened…”

  “The stuff between her mother and father? Yeah, I know.”

  “We decided to take a few simple jobs that would keep us occupied. Jobs like this, to be honest. I don’t know who the hell said ‘time heals’, but it doesn’t. And, seriously, I don’t want it to.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Alicia remained quiet for a while, remembering the young man that had been such a vibrant part of their team. “I do miss him.”

  “He’d be happy to get that from you.”

  Alicia coughed and quickly changed the subject before sentimentality overcame them both. “Enough of that. Is this the main entrance here?”

  “Yeah.” Russo stopped on the sidewalk, looking up at the building’s façade. “I have no idea where the banner is kept.”

  Alicia shook her head and mumbled: “Grunts.”

  Russo switched his comms back on. Immediately, his eyes widened. “Hey, something’s going on.”

  Alicia jabbed at the button. “… shadows moving… around the back… we got ’em.”

  “Wait, wait, are you sure? If it’s not them you’re risking…”

  “Hold,” another voice said. “No point risking spooking them.”

  Alicia and Russo were already walking at pace, trying to find a way around the back of the building. An agent saw them and beckoned them over, pointing out a path through well-tended trees that led around to the rear. As they moved, quicker now, they listened intently to the chatter.

  Crouch’s voice: “Hang back. You have to let them show themselves first.”

  “Agreed,” another voice said. “These two have been ghosts for years. Do not screw this up, people.”

  Alicia came around the towering, flat-gray side of the building, and saw the terrain clearing ahead as green swathes of grass and gravel pathways led away to the National Mall. There was a narrow road too, but no cars were traveling along it tonight.

  “Where are these shadows?” she asked quietly.

  “Right to the side of the back doors. Among the trees.”

  She paused for a moment, looking away from the Smithsonian and toward the long, wide, grassy pathway of the mall. The tree-lined open space was lit infrequently and appeared empty, yet she couldn’t help but think that every pair of eyes were focused on the museum.

  Sometimes, it was the unexpected that got you.

  “Shadows are moving again,” a man said. “Definitely two. Dressed in black, whoever they are, these two are up to no good.”

  “Yeah,” another added. “And they’re wearing masks.”

  “How the hell did they get in?” a deeper voice asked. “Nobody could’ve slipped past us.”

  A good question, Alicia thought. She found some shadow of her own, crouched and tried to peer among the trees.

  “Take ’em down or follow ’em?” she asked Crouch.

  “She’s right to ask the question,” Crouch said across the open line. “Do you want their bosses? The people that ordered the robbery?”

  “Who knows?” an FBI bigwig cut in. “Do they even have the banner?”

  Alicia wondered if the two black-clad figures were acting as a diversion, and cast her gaze in different directions. Anything was possible. She pressed her comms button: “Are they carrying anything?” she insisted.

  “Yeah, this ain’t just a flag we’re talking about,” a voice told them. “The banner measures thirty by thirty four feet flat out so even rolled it’s not gonna fit inside a rucksack. Also, it’ll be heavy as hell. Maybe they only stole part of it.”

  “The good part,” somebody else said.

  Alicia assumed he meant the part with the stars on it. Did that mean they’d already despoiled it?

  “They’re moving slowly,” someone commented. “Flat against the building. Crap, it’s pitch black there, man. They could be carrying something.”

  It was then Alicia realized the figures were creeping arrow-straight toward Russo and her. That was okay because, if she ended this now, she’d class it as a good night. She pulled Russo down beside her, ignoring his surprise and light protests.

  “What the hell are you up to?”

  “Shut it, and open your eyes, Robster.”

  Immediately, he saw what she’d already seen. The passage of figures, low to the ground, moving toward them at an incredibly slow pace. Russo held his breath. Alicia again tried to pierce the dark.

  “I’ve friggin’ lost them,” someone said.

  Alicia reached up a hand to press the comms and confirm she had them in her sights. The figures were still indistinct, moving incredibly slowly, almost as if…

  They’re waiting for…

  Shouts suddenly congested the comms: warnings of oncoming enemies carrying weapons. The thieves were the least of their worries.

  Alicia turned swiftly to see black-clad forms emergin
g from the long, grassy strip of the National Mall and the roads beyond. Almost immediately they opened fire, peppering the museum’s walls with bullets. Alicia ducked, but kept the presence of mind to turn her attention back to the two thieves. This was what they had been waiting for.

  Gunfire filled the area, seeping around the corners of the big building too. Somebody was firing along Constitution Avenue, distracting the authorities placed there. Alicia watched as the two thieves now darted with renewed purpose.

  “Russo.” She nudged him. “Look.”

  “I am looking. That big bastard over there has a friggin’ Gen 6 Glock, the new one. It’s not even for sale yet.”

  Alicia jabbed his ribs. “Not over there, you fool. Here.”

  The two thieves moved closer still, sprinting fast and staying low. Alicia saw their forms clearly now: one lithe and short, the other muscled and agile.

  “Wow,” she said. “That girl can sure wear a catsuit.”

  Bullets poured from the direction of the mall, aimed high for the most part, but Alicia saw some of their own men go down. This was no simple distraction — it was an attack. The thieves veered away now, and it was clear they were carrying something heavy between them.

  Heavy. Long. Rolled up. “If that’s not the banner,” Alicia said, “I’ll snog you, Russo.”

  “If you think I’d let those fish lips anywhere near—”

  “C’mon!”

  They rose, still wary of the bullets but assuming none would be sent in the direction of the thieves. Lee, the woman, and Cutler, the man, she assumed. She saw them break cover, run quickly across a narrow gravel path and then slip in amongst another set of trees. She chased them, cutting the gap but taking it steady so as not to arouse suspicion. By the time she entered the trees the thieves were gone again, dashing across another wide pathway. To their right, black-clad men kept the cops and the FBI pinned down.

  The comms were ablaze with feisty dialogue.

  But it was all defensive, everything concentrated on the new threat, and Alicia didn’t blame them. She counted over a dozen armed men coming at the Smithsonian. Two were down but the rest were nestled in good cover. Sirens split the night, howling as they approached the scene. Alicia kept her head down as Russo contacted Crouch and told him where they were.