God Of Thunder

“I have to admit that this wasn’t something I was looking forward to, Dieter.” Annja enjoyed the momentary glint of caution that showed on the man’s handsome face.

“You know who I am,” he said.

“It wasn’t hard,” Annja replied, hoping it would shake some of the man’s arrogant confidence.

“I suppose Fellini told you.”

Annja didn’t say anything. At this point, the best thing she could do was keep them guessing.

“Actually, that doesn’t matter,” Dieter said. “Our business here is about finished.”

“It is,” Annja promised him. She reached for the sword, feeling it grow more solid against her palm.

“I’m sorry, Annja,” Nikolai said. “They followed me from the police station. I didn’t know.”

That explains where the other two went, Annja thought. You should have thought of that.

But she was an archaeologist, not a master sleuth. However, she was also quite capable of taking care of herself.

“It’s okay, Nikolai,” Annja said.

Nikolai’s hands trembled and his pinched expression showed that he might be sick. “They want the package, but they wanted you, too.”

Annja looked at Dieter. “Why?”

“Because there are things my employer would like to know.”

“What things?”

Dieter shrugged. “This matter is a bit of a puzzle, Ms. Creed. My employer feels that your expertise could be useful.”

“Hasn’t Mario told you what you need to know?”

Grinning, Dieter said, “Mario was reluctant to tell us much of anything.”

No honor among thieves? Annja wondered.

Dieter slid a pistol from a shoulder holster, showing her just enough to let her know he had it. “We need to be going. My men are picking up the package Mario sent you.”

Annja looked at Nikolai. “You told them where the package was?”

“Sort of.” Nikolai shrugged helplessly.

Dieter looked at Nikolai and grabbed him by his coat collar. “If you’ve lied to me—”

Taking advantage of the distraction, Annja pulled the sword to her, holding it beside her leg. It was three feet of razor-sharp, double-bladed steel. Whatever beauty the sword had was savage, but there was no denying its presence. The blade gleamed as it splintered the light.

She spoke to Nikolai in Klingon and ordered him to get down. Since the artificial language was severely limited, as was her knowledge of it, she’d ordered him to “put shields up.”

Nikolai dived to the ground at once.

Dieter pulled the pistol from inside his coat and brought it around toward Annja. Sidestepping, dropping her right foot behind her left, Annja swung the sword in a blinding arc. The sword connected with the pistol and sent the weapon flying from Dieter’s hand.

Shock spread across the man’s face, then he kicked at Annja’s head before she could bring the sword back. Dropping back a step, Annja let her opponent’s kick sail past her head. Spinning, she launched a back-fist at Dieter’s head.

He dropped and slid backward. Holding his hands out and twisting them, he freed two ASP batons and caught them. He triggered them and they elongated with metallic snaps.

“Well,” Dieter said, smiling, “I don’t know how you managed that trick. Maybe I’ll beat it out of you later.” Armed with nearly two feet of gleaming reinforced steel, he stepped to the attack.

He swung the batons rapidly, aiming for her head, then her knees, then her head again in a convoluted figure-eight pattern. Annja was certain if any of the blows had landed they would have crushed bone.

The computer users abandoned their posts, heading for the back of the café. The attention of most of them was riveted on the fight.

They’ve been playing way too many video games, Annja thought as she parried Dieter’s attacks and gave more ground. The mercenary was incredible with the batons. She’d definitely figured him to favor guns.

“Irwin,” Dieter growled, blocking Annja’s attack with crossed batons. He held the sword only inches from the crown of his head. His arms shook with the strain. “Shoot her.”

Okay, he does favor guns, Annja told herself grimly.

Irwin leveled his pistol and fired.

Twisting and throwing herself back, Annja barely avoided the bullet. It cut through her coat over her midsection. She dropped and rolled toward Irwin, coming up on her left hand as she drove both of her feet up.

Her left foot knocked the pistol from Irwin’s hand, and her right foot caught him under the chin, lifting him from his feet and sending him sailing backward. He crashed into a computer terminal and sank down.

By that time, Dieter was nearly on top of her. A baton streaked for her head. She blocked it with the sword, then she rolled to the side and got to her feet. Irwin was out cold, slumped on top of the wrecked computer terminal.

Dieter didn’t offer any more taunts. His face was cold and deadly. She could see he intended to kill her as fast as he could.

Annja parried and blocked, then thrust the sword at Dieter’s face. As expected, Dieter dodged back, pushing the sword away with his left-hand baton. Reaching forward, Annja plucked the other baton from Dieter’s right hand.

“You’re good,” Annja told him as she backed away with her captured prize. “Just not good enough.”

Dieter launched himself at her, swinging his remaining baton. Annja countered with the sword, then swung the baton into Dieter’s forehead. The man collapsed.

Annja glanced around. Everyone had run out of the café. She willed the sword to disappear, then reached down for Nikolai.

“That was incredible!” Nikolai crowed. He was shaking so much he could barely stand. “I didn’t know you were Xena quality.”

“I’m not Xena,” Annja assured him. “Are you all right?” she asked Nikolai.

“You have a sword!” Nikolai said. “I didn’t know you had a sword!” Then he looked at her and frowned. “What did you do with it?”

“There was no sword.”

“I saw a sword.”

“Do you see a sword now?”