Free The Sinai Secret by Gregg Loomis Page A

caught traction, and lunged ahead as the rear window went opaque in a spiderweb of safety glass.
    As soon as Lang reached the four-lane highway, he checked the rearview mirror. He was not surprised to see a black car approaching fast. In seconds he could recognize it as a Land Rover, smaller than the custom job he was driving and, quite likely, faster.
    Any doubt as to relative speeds evaporated as he floored the gas pedal and still the pursuing car gained on him.
    If his vehicle was speed-handicapped by its size and weight, perhaps he could use those features to his advantage. Lang lifted his foot slightly.
    As anticipated, the Land Rover pulled into the left lane, its occupants no doubt intending to spray him with gunfire as they drew even.
    Lang looked back at the road, aware that he was going to get exactly one chance.
    At least, in this lifetime.
    The Land Rover behind had closed to slightly more than a single car length. Lang cut in front, the move of a man desperately trying to avoid what was inevitable.
    He passed a Peugeot, pulling slightly ahead and blocking the Land Rover behind him. Driving in the left lane was illegal on European superhighways, a rule more uniformly enforced than speed limits. It was also frequently fatal.
    He could see the Peugeot's perplexed driver in the mirror. Either the man was unwilling to share the road with a maniac or he had reached his destination. He took the next exit, leaving Lang alone with his pursuers.
    Before Lang could return to the right lane, the car behind him pulled into the empty slot. The men in it preferred to force Lang to fire his weapon across the seat, if, in fact, he had a chance to fire at all before they did.
    Lang backed off the accelerator, letting the Land Rover draw almost even before touching the brake. Before the driver of the Land Rover realized what had happened, it had shot past.
    Lang sped up as the Land Rover slowed, trying to recover the best position for a shot.
    As in the police chases on any American city's local news at six o'clock, Lang nudged the left rear of the Land Rover with the Mercedes's front right bumper.
    The high center of gravity of the sport-utility vehicle combined with the wet surface and the German car's weight to break the adhesion between the tires of the Land Rover and the road. The British car began a slow but uncontrollable counterclockwise spin down the highway.
    Lang tapped his brakes and watched the other car smash into the steel Armco barrier dividing the road.
    He passed just as two dazed men were fighting ballooned air bags to climb out. He gave a cheery honk of the horn, noted the license plate, and headed back to Brussels.

TWELVE

    Rue des Bouchers
    Brussels, Belgium
    Two Hours Later
    Lang had returned the scarred Mercedes to the foundation's garage. The attendant gaped at what were obvious bullet holes. The man was staring openmouthed, too fascinated to notice as Lang dropped the keys into his hand.
    "In America," Lang said, "we call it road rage."
    From there he walked to the offices on the flamboyant Grand Place, the geographic, historical, and commercial center of the city. Surrounded by elaborate seventeenth- century architecture, it housed statues of saints and busts of a ducal line peering from their lofty niches high above the bustling cobblestone square. The Hotel de Ville, city hall, with its fourteenth-century spire, competed for attention with the former palace of Belgium's Spanish monarchs.
    Lang entered Le Pigeon, former residence of Victor Hugo during his exile from France. The grand old building had been converted into commercial space long ago.
    Louis deVille dropped the telephone when Lang walked into his office. "Monsieur Reilly!"
    He came around the desk to clasp Lang with both hands. He was about to kiss him on each cheek when he recalled Lang's opinion of the traditional French greeting.
    Instead he dropped his arms and gloved Lang's right hand in both of his own. "The police were on the phone.