Page 80 of One Last Stand
“Does this happen a lot?” Shep asked.
Prince Luka glanced at him. Lifted a shoulder. “Occasionally. We’re on an old grid. The palace has been updated, of course, but the earthquake of 2004 shook through eastern Europe. It even hit us here and destroyed much of our infrastructure. We’re slowly replacing it, but our primary focus was rebuilding and fortifying Cryptex and the palace security. It appears we forgot the postern gate.” He gave Shep a nod, almost a thank-you.
Hmm.
“My guards are waiting to take you to Cryptex. And then I will see you tomorrow night at the gala?” He walked to the door, held it open. “Please let me know if the palace can assist you in anything else.” He lowered his voice. “Preferably not something criminal.” Then he winked. At London. Who curtsied again.
“At least, not officially.”
He chuckled, deep and resonant, and Shep had the crazy and completely inappropriate urge to deck him.
What. Ever.
They walked through the halls in their silly polar-bear robes, took an elevator down a couple levels, walked down a concrete tunnel, passed through a series of secure doors, then took another lift up to a main floor and into a marbled entryway with an inlaid travertine floor and a tall door with two large circular locks.
“Those locks are just for show,” said London as the guard beside her keyed in numbers on a digital panel. The door slid to the side, and lights bloomed in another corridor. “You can access Cryptex through an external entry also.” She pointed to a door on the other side of the entryway as they entered the tunnel. “But you still have to go through the same amount of security.”
At the far end, a view through bars revealed a lobby. A guard stood sentry by the inner entrance, and a receptionist sat at the desk. “It’s guarded twenty-four seven but is only open daylight hours. My guess is that Prince Luka asked someone to stay.”
“He likes you,” he said softly.
She glanced back at him. Smiled. “I’m taken.”
Oh. Yes. Okay, see,calm down. But she did this spy thing a little too well.
The guard keyed in a long code, the gate opened, and they went inside. A simple white-oak built-in reception desk sat in front of a black granite wall, the wordsCryptex Bankhanging in gold letters. The guard spoke to a receptionist—a slim woman, midforties, her blonde hair pulled back, wearing a blue uniform with a gold emblem on the jacket breast. Looked like a filigreedC,for Cryptex.
“Wait here. I’ll be right back,” said London.
“Not on your life.”
She turned. “This is the most secure building in Europe. I’ll be fine.”
“I’m starting to think that my definition of secure and yours might be different.”
But then she squeezed his hand and followed the woman to a nearby room, also unlocked with a thumbprint and a code, and there he stood, an idiot in his puffy white bathrobe, like he was on walkabout in a spa.
He shucked off the robe, his clothing now reasonably warm, although still soggy, and scanned the place. On the other side, a wall of vertical black wooden strips sat against glass, and beyond that, an array of slick-looking computer towers filled the room.
Could be the crypto-mining banks.
Another door led to an area beyond the granite wall, but it was also locked with the same lock system.
The sooner they dumped this virus and headed back to Alaska, the better. He didn’t know the lay of this land, couldn’t see around the corners of London’s life to know what to expect next.
And then there was the ball.Sheesh,if his father could see him now. And of course, the old man walked into his head.“Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think.”
Huh.So maybe the old man would be a little impressed with him.
Although, the man had never been impressed with wealth or power, so maybe not.“People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.”
Behind him, the barred gate buzzed open, and he turned to see a man walk in, dressed in a similar Cryptex uniform. He stood in the lobby, glanced at Shep.
Shep had never been so glad to be out of a bathrobe.
The door opened, and London came out, blinking hard. She closed her eyes as she came toward him. Her thumb pressed a piece of cotton against her middle finger. “They need blood for the DNA in the card and shoot air into your eye to dry it out.” She blinked a few more times. “That’s better.”
The receptionist took her place behind the desk, and when the man flashed a bio card, she reached under her desk and buzzed him into the secure area, through the other door.