Its headlights were turned off, immediately triggering an uneasy feeling in Pitt. Sensing something amiss, he instinctively followed after Avni.
“Be right back,” he grunted, then took off at a sprint.
“Dirk!” Loren shouted, confused at her husband’s sudden reaction. But he didn’t bother to answer when he noticed the white van begin to pull forward.
Pitt knew what was about to happen but was powerless to prevent it. When the van lurched forward with a whining squeal from its motor, he could only watch as if it were a movie scene in slow motion. The van aimed for the museum guard and quickly picked up speed. Running at full tilt, Pitt shouted a warning.
“Avni! Behind you!” he yelled.
But it was a futile gesture. With its headlights still turned off, the van lurched forward and struck the museum guard from behind. His body flew high off the vehicle’s hood, then cartwheeled to the pavement with a thud. The van continued accelerating, then screeched to a stop in front of the open gate.
Pitt kept running, quickly approaching the prone guard. From the grotesque shape of the man’s head, Pitt could tell that the guard’s skull had been shattered, killing him instantly. Unable to do anything for him now, Pitt proceeded toward the van.
The van driver sat behind the wheel, anxiously staring through the open Bâb-üs Selâm portal. With the engine running, he failed to detect Pitt’s footsteps until he was alongside the van. He turned to look out the open side window and was met by a pair of hands that reached in and grabbed him by the collar. Before he could even resist, his head and torso were yanked halfway through the window.
Pitt heard additional footfalls approach, but only caught a shadow out of the corner of his eye as he wrestled with the driver. He had looped an elbow beneath the man’s chin and was nearly ripping his head off. The driver regained his wits and struggled to release Pitt’s grip, jamming his knees under the steering wheel and flailing with his arms. But Pitt was able to exert pressure on the driver’s throat until he gasped for air, then started to fall limp in his arms.
“Let him go,” a female voice suddenly barked.
Pitt turned toward the prone body of the dead museum guard while maintaining his grip on the choking van driver. Loren and Ruppé had followed him up the road to assist Avni and were now positioned alongside the dead man. Ruppé was leaning down on one knee, holding his hand to a bloody g
ash inflicted across his forehead, while Loren stood alongside looking at Pitt with fear in her eyes.
Standing beside them was a short woman wearing a black ski mask, sweater, and pants. She stood with her arm extended, pointing a pistol at Loren’s head.
“Let him go,” she said once more to Pitt, “or the woman dies.”
4
TOPKAPI PALACE WAS THE GRAND RESIDENCE OF THE Ottoman sultans for nearly four hundred years. A sprawling maze of garnished tiled buildings and chambers built on a hillside compound overlooking the Golden Horn, the palace contained a treasury of Turkey’s rich history. The popular and crowded guided tours provided a glimpse into the personal lives of the ruling sultans, while showcasing an impressive collection of art, weapons, and jewelry. Yet amid the royal opulence, the palace contained a serious collection of holy Islamic relics revered throughout the world. And it was these objects that the thieves had targeted.
A catering van had easily smuggled a small cache of arms and plastic explosives into the palace grounds several days before. The thieves merely entered the complex as tourists late in the day and quietly slipped aside, hiding in a groundskeeper’s shed. Under cover of darkness, long after the last tourists had left and the entrances secured, the thieves collected their weapons and moved on the Chamber of the Sacred Relics, where many of the holy objects were stored.
The actual assault took barely a minute, as they blasted their way through a side wall with the explosives, then shot and killed a nearby guard. They quickly gathered their desired relics, then escaped through the damaged wall.
The thieves had carefully orchestrated a series of small, diversionary explosions at various points around the compound as they made their way south on foot. Once past the main gate, they would be whisked off the grounds in the waiting van. It would take only a few minutes from there to reach the maze of Sultanahmet’s winding streets and become lost to the night.
Police sirens wailed in the distance as two men in black sprinted through Bâb-üs Selâm, each toting a canvas bag. The woman aiming the handgun at Loren immediately barked clipped orders to the men as they approached the van. The two thieves threw their bags in the back, then dragged the semiconscious driver there and laid him out. One of the men hurried around front and climbed into the driver’s seat, while the second man produced his own pistol and leveled it at Loren. The woman barked again at Pitt.
“You. Away from the van,” she ordered, training her gun on Pitt. “This woman is coming with us. If you wish to see her alive again, you will tell the police we escaped through the Gülhane Park Gate.” She motioned her weapon toward the northeast side of the compound.
Pitt’s hands clenched into fists, and his eyes nearly shot flames of anger, but there was nothing he could do. The woman sensed his wrath and leveled her gun at his head.
“Don’t even think about it,” she said.
The gunman grabbed Loren by the arm and roughly shoved her into the back of the van, then climbed in and closed the door behind them. The woman backpedaled to the front passenger door, holding her gun on Pitt until she jumped inside. The new driver immediately floored it, and the van squealed away with its tires smoking.
Pitt quickly ran to Ruppé, who had staggered to his feet but wobbled from the blow to his head administered by the woman.
“Your car,” Pitt said hurriedly.
Ruppé quickly fished out the keys.
“You go now. I’ll just slow you down.”
“Are you all right?”
“Just a scratch,” he replied with a weak smile, eyeing his blood-smeared hand. “I’ll be fine. You go ahead, and I will inform the police when they arrive.”