Free The Cross of Sins by Geoffrey Knight Page B

snatch at his robe, in the process snagging something around his neck.
    The crimson-robed man knocked the archeologist's hands away from him—not feeling the gentle tug around his neck—and laughed out loud as the archeologist plunged into the well.
    The old man's shadow blurred and distorted against the excavated walls as he fell.
    When he hit the rocky bottom of the well, Doctor Hadley gasped in pain. He felt several bones break on impact, including his ribs. For a moment, he lay on the floor of the well, stunned that he had survived the fall, yet terrified by the fact that he was unable to move. His fingers twitched. His arms moved an inch or two. He still had feeling in his right leg; he could feel the snapped bone and the hot blood coursing over his shin, so he knew he wasn't paralyzed.
    But, as he saw the hooded faces of his attackers peer over the edge of the well above him, he suddenly realized his best chance of escape, was not to attempt an escape at all. As the light of their torches shined down upon him, Hadley clamped his eyes shut. He held his breath and stopped breathing. He froze. He played dead.
    As the blood coursed from him—as each and every broken bone sent shock waves of pain through his frail old body—Doctor Joseph Hadley stayed completely still... until he heard the crimson-robed man's command from above. "Throw in your torches. Burn him."
    In terror, Hadley opened his eyes and saw the first of the flaming torches descend into the pit, like a fiery comet from the skies, coming straight at him. All he could do was scream.

VI
    The Chalet, the Austrian Alps
    Although his eyes could see nothing, the Professor stood facing the enormous floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the valley and the mountain peaks on the other side of the forest. He stood as though he was watching something through the glass.
    As the last of the day set beyond the far horizon, it turned the world a pale blue.
    The Professor smiled, "Elsa, we have more company."
    Fraulein Elsa Strauss, a stout woman in her early fifties, was setting the long oak dining table a few feet behind the Professor. She rushed to the window still clutching a fistful of knives and forks, and stood beside the Professor, looking out, squinting into the vanishing light.
    "I see nothing," she said. She had grown up in a small hamlet on the border of Germany and Austria, and her accent was thick.
    "There," he said.
    Suddenly, a pair of headlights appeared in the valley far below, blinking off and on through the trees, making its way up the winding mountain road toward the chalet.
    The Fraulein rolled her eyes and made a noise under her breath. The Professor smiled at the sound she made; it meant he was right. "Don't think I'm going to humor you or even ask how you do that," the Fraulein muttered. "I have food to prepare! Your boys eat like hungry lions."
    She scampered away. The Professor continued to smile. "Yes, they do."
    His blind eyes continued to stare through the glass.
    Then, he sensed a third headlight coming up the mountain road.
    Luca turned the wheel of the red 1976 Alfa Romeo and steered the car swiftly up the road, the forest pines passing in a blur on the high side of the road as he quickly gained altitude. Through the windscreen, he could see ahead of him the glimmering lights of the chalet far up the mountain.
    Then, something else caught his eye.
    As the road straightened for a moment, he saw in his rearview mirror the bright beam of a motorcycle headlight, coming up fast—almost too fast—behind him. For a fleeting moment, he suspected danger.
    Then, a smirk spread across his face. "Will," he shook his head. "You should know better."
    With that, he ripped through the gears on the Alfa, picking up speed with each throw of the shifter. The Alfa soared along the road, the suspension so smooth it seemed almost weightless, leaves and pine needles taking flight in its wake. But gaining rapidly from behind was the roar of a Ducati, bending