Honour Among Thieves

pointed to the lift. She pulled a finger across her throat to show Scott she wanted to avoid using it in favour of the back stairs. He nodded his agreement and followed her out of the side door. They moved quickly but silently up the six flights of stairs until they reached the ground floor. Hannah beckoned Scott into the side room where the cleaners had collected their boxes. She had reached the window on the far side of the room and was on her knees even before Scott had closed the door. He joined her and they stared out on a deserted Victory Square. There was no one to be seen in any direction. 'God bless Kratz,' said Scott. Hannah nodded and beckoned him to follow her again. She led him back into the corridor and guided him quickly to the side door. Scott opened the door tentatively and slipped out ahead of her. A moment later she joined him on the tarmac. He pointed to a group of palm trees halfway across the courtyard, and she nodded once again. They covered the twenty yards to its relative safety in under three seconds. Scott turned to look back at the building and saw the truck standing up against the wall. He assumed that, in the panic, it was just something else that had been left behind. He tapped Hannah on the shoulder and indicated that he wanted to return to the building. They covered the ground at the same pace as before, ducking back inside the door. Scott led Hannah to the main corridor, where they found the front door was swinging on its hinges. He looked through the gap and pointed to the truck, mimed to which side he would go and touched her shoulder. Again they sprinted across the tarmac as if reacting to a starting pistol. Scott jumped behind the wheel as Hannah leaped in the other side. 'Where the hell -' was Scott's first reaction when he discovered the ignition key wasn't in place. They began frantically to search the glove compartment, under the seats, on the dashboard. 'The bastards must have taken the key with them.' 'Simon, look out!' screamed Hannah. Scott turned to see a figure leaping up onto the footplate. Hannah moved quickly into position to attack the intruder, but Scott blocked her. 'Good afternoon, miss,' said the stranger. 'Sorry we haven't been properly introduced,' he added before turning to Scott. 'Move over, Professor,' he said as he put the key back in the ignition. 'If you recall, it was agreed that I'd do the driving.' 'What in heaven's name are you doing here, Sergeant?' asked Scott. 'Now that's what I call a real American welcome,' replied Cohen. 'But, to answer your question, I was just obeying orders. I was told if you came out of that door carrying a cardboard tube, I was to get myself back here and move the hell out of it, but not under any circumstances to allow you to make a detour to the Foreign Ministry. By the way, where's the tube?' 'Look out!' shouted Hannah again, as she turned and saw an Arab charging towards them from the other side. 'That one won't do you any harm,' said Cohen, 'he's bloody useless. Doesn't even know the difference between a Diet Coke and a Pepsi.' Aziz leaped onto the running board and said to Scott, 'I think we've got about another twenty minutes, Professor, before they work out that there's no bomb in the safe.' 'Then let's get out of here,' said Scott. 'But where to?' asked Hannah. 'Aziz and I have already done a recce, sir. As soon as the sirens sounded we knew that Kratz must have sold them the whopper, because they couldn't move fast enough to get themselves below. Soldiers and police first seems to be the rule out here. Aziz and I have had the run of the city centre for the last hour. In fact the only person we bumped into was one of our own agents, Dave Feldman. He'd already sussed out the best route to give us a chance of avoiding any military.' 'Not bad, Cohen,' said Scott. Cohen turned suddenly and stared at the Professor. 'I didn't do it for you, sir, I did it for Colonel Kratz. He got me out of jail once, and he's the only officer that's ever treated me like a human being. So whatever it is that you're holding in your hands, Professor, it had bloody well better be worth his life.' 'Thousands have given their lives for it over the years,' said Scott quietly. 'It's the American Declaration of Independence.' 'Good God,' said Cohen. 'How did the bastards get their hands on that?' He paused briefly. 'Am I meant to believe you?' Scott nodded and unrolled the parchment. Cohen and Aziz stared in disbelief for several seconds. 'Right