“Top that, Dr. Jones,” he said.
As soon as he switched off the device, the satchel fell away, but Pierce barely noticed. He stuffed the device back into his pocket and ventured through the door onto the rooftop, above the museum’s first floor. The low wail of police sirens greeted him. Close but not yet too close.
Pierce ran to the edge of the rooftop, trying to get oriented. He could just make out the harbor off to his left, a couple of miles distant, at the base of the slope upon which the city of Heraklion had been founded. That meant he was on the east side of the museum complex. If she stuck to the plan, Fiona would be leaving from the south, only a few hundred yards away. Pierce would have preferred a route that led him further away from her, but there was nothing to be done about it now. He looked down, focusing his attention on the more immediate problem of his own escape.
Because the museum was built on a hillside, the ground was a lot further away than he had anticipated—at least a forty foot drop. The wall below was smooth concrete, with no windows or ledges.
Note to self, addendum: Also bring rope. He growled in frustration. Forget Indiana Jones. He was going to have to start wearing a utility belt like Batman...if he actually made it out of this without getting killed or arrested.
He switched on his MagTac and shone the beam along the low parapet at the edge of the rooftop. A square shadow caught his eye and revealed a small opening that fed into a metal downspout that ran down the exterior wall.
Pierce stared at it for a few seconds. He could think of at least a dozen reasons why trying to shinny down that pipe was a foolish idea, but the one argument in favor of it was even more compelling: he had no other choice.
The sirens were getting louder.
Biting his lip, he hoisted himself onto the parapet and swung his legs out into space.
Oh, crap. Nope. Can’t do this.
But there was no turning back now. Although he was still gripping the edge of the roof, too much of his body weight was already hanging out over the side. Climbing back up would be harder than sliding down the spout.
He stretched his feet out, probing the wall until he felt the pipe. He tried to grip the slick surface with the soles of his boots, but struggled to find purchase. Despite his lifelong action-hero fantasies, he had always been the kid in gym class who couldn’t climb the rope to save his life.
You don’t have to climb, he reminded himself. Just go down.
Going down was inevitable now. It was just a question of whether he slid or plummeted.
He unclenched his left hand from the parapet and reached down for the pipe. It was secured tightly against the wall, with no room for him to wrap his hand around it, but he got his best grip on it and squeezed with all his strength.
Now the other one.
His right hand seemed to have developed its own opinion on the subject of letting go. Pierce squeezed the spout even harder with his left, trying to work up the courage to… “Just. Let. Go.”
He let go.
Gravity seized control of the situation. There was a shrieking noise, like air escaping from a balloon, as the soles of his boots rasped against the pipe. Pierce felt a bloom of heat against his palm, friction caused by sliding down the spout much faster than he had intended. Frantic, he groped for the pipe with his right hand. He felt more friction heat as his fingertips grazed the wall, but somehow he managed to grab hold and squeeze—
He hit the ground like a pile driver. White hot skewers of pain stabbed up through the soles of his feet, all the way to his knees. Yet, even as he pitched backward, staggering like a drunken sailor and finally landing hard on his ass, he knew that his efforts to slow the crazy descent had not been futile. He was still alive.
Ignoring the pain, he got to his feet and shuffled across an open space that appeared to be a cross between an active archaeological dig and a picnic area. A wrought-iron fence guarded this section of the museum perimeter. The street beyond was quiet, but Pierce moved along the fence until he was in the shadow of a large rhododendron bush. Then he attempted to scale the barrier. The climb out required more effort than the climb in, and was less graceful, but he was in the homestretch now.