Free James Acton 04 - The Templar's Relic by J Robert Kennedy

focusing on trying to lift the gate, despite the hundreds clamoring over it.
    Someone tugged at his arm, and he looked. It was Laura, fear in her eyes. He resumed his sprint to the chopper, and pushed Laura to safety, then climbed in himself as the two guards jumped back inside.
    “Go! Go! Go!” one yelled as the crowd raced toward them. Acton could hear the engines power up, and then the skids slowly lift off the ground.
    The entire craft shook.
    The pilot cursed, banking to the left slightly. “Someone’s hanging on the skid!”
    The craft shook again. “Another one!” he yelled, looking out the opposite side.
    “Just get us some altitude!” yelled one of the guards.
    “What about those people?”
    “They’ll kill us if we don’t get out of here!”
    More power was applied, and again the chopper shook, but it began to rise, and soon was too high for anyone else to climb on.
    “We can’t keep going, not with those people!” cried Laura. “They’ll die if they fall!”
    One of the guards, who Acton now recognized as Gerard Boileau, one of Giasson’s most trusted men, slid open the door. Wind howled through the cabin. “Get us over the crowd, twenty feet!”
    The pilot nodded, banking back toward the crowd, lowering the craft. Boileau pulled his baton. “Jump, or I’ll make you jump!” he yelled as Acton positioned himself at the door to see what was happening.
    The man shook his head, and was about to yell something when Boileau’s boot stomped on the man’s hands. He yelped and dropped to the ground below, the crowd catching him, or more accurately, acting as human padding. Boileau slammed the door shut, momentarily quieting the cabin, then moved to the other side. He opened the door.
    And was grabbed by someone on the skid, and pulled out of the chopper. Acton leapt forward, grabbing for Boileau. His hands ran down Boileau’s legs, then finally managed to grip the man’s boot. Acton felt himself slipping toward the door as the weight of Boileau pulled him out.
    Laura screamed.
    He felt hands grab his belt, and his forward momentum jerked to a halt. Someone hit him in the back, and his shoulder blade cried in agony. Gripping Boileau by one boot, he swung his free elbow back, blindly, and felt it connect with something that gave. He repeated his motion, and was rewarded with the sound of someone crying out in pain, then the view of them falling to the ground.
    “Pull!” he yelled.
    He felt his belt tighten against his waist as who he assumed was the other guard yanked him back inside. With his free arm, he reached down and grabbed Boileau’s belt, never letting go the death grip he had on the man’s boot, tucked under his armpit. He saw another pair of hands reach out and grab Boileau by the belt as well, a pair of hands he knew well, and together he and Laura pulled Boileau as the guard hauled Acton the final few feet.
    As Boileau’s waist cleared the lip of the cabin, Acton saw him reach back and pull his baton from a loop on his belt, then swing hard at an unseen target. The target cried out, a rapidly quieting scream indicating he had dropped to the crowd below.
    With one final tug, they were all safely inside, and Laura slammed the door shut.
    “Let’s get the hell out of here!” she yelled.
    Acton rolled onto his back, catching his breath, as Boileau did the same.
    Boileau slapped him on the chest. “Thanks.”
    Acton didn’t bother gasping a, ‘You’re welcome.’ He was pretty sure it would just come out as a grunt, but he gave the other guard a smack on the leg and a nod.
    They rode in silence the rest of the way, Acton wondering what chaos awaited them at their destination.
     

 
     
     
    Saint Peter’s Basilica, Vatican City
     
    “Faster! Faster!” Giasson heard the elderly priest yell, as Saint Peter’s Basilica was stripped of its treasures. All around him the most precious of objects that could be moved were carried or hauled away, deeper into the complex, and