Kingdom of Darkness
‘Model, actress, whatever,’ said Eddie. ‘Chuck something out of the window around here and you’ll probably hit at least two of ’em.’
‘Bimbos, basically,’ Macy added.
Nina was not impressed. ‘So it’s kind of a demeaning term, then.’
‘Well, the article said I wasn’t one, so . . .’ She shrugged again. ‘Anyway, what do you think?’
‘Very nice,’ said Eddie with a grin. ‘I keep asking Nina to get an outfit like that, but she won’t have it.’
Nina sighed, then turned back to Macy. ‘Modelling’s not exactly my thing, but you obviously enjoyed it, so . . . good for you. And I’m glad that even with these other options opening up for you, you’re planning to stick with archaeology.’
‘I worked really hard to get my degree,’ said Macy. ‘I’m not going to let it go to waste.’
‘You could be a model, archaeologist, whatever,’ Eddie suggested, grinning.
‘Yeah! Actually, Nina, if there are any openings at the IHA, I hope you’ll look at my résumé!’
She laughed, but Nina didn’t respond in kind. ‘Macy, I . . .’ She gave Eddie a brief look before continuing. ‘I don’t work for the IHA any more.’
The young woman laughed again, but it quickly faded when she realised Nina was serious. ‘What? Since when?’
‘Since two months ago. I resigned. I asked them to keep it quiet because I didn’t want to deal with the publicity.’
‘Oh my God! Why? What happened?’
‘Something bad happened to me. I can’t tell you too much, because it’s classified’ – that was not strictly true; Nina had made the decision to keep much of what had transpired a secret even from the IHA itself – ‘but I was . . . poisoned.’
Macy stared at her in horror. ‘Poisoned? Did – did you see a doctor, get an antidote?’
‘There isn’t one. Not for this. How much Norse mythology did you study during your degree?’
‘The basics: Odin, Thor, those guys,’ said Macy, confused by the shift of topic.
‘Did you learn about eitr?’
‘Yeah, it’s some sort of primordial poison—’ She broke off as she made the connection. ‘You mean it’s real?’
‘Fucking right it is,’ Eddie rumbled.
‘Yes, it’s real,’ said Nina sadly. ‘We found it – well, we were trying to stop other people taking control of it. We did, but I got . . . contaminated. Infected. Macy, I’m . . . I’m dying.’
‘Holy Jesus,’ Macy whispered. ‘I’m so sorry. When – how long have you got?’
‘It could be years,’ Eddie insisted. ‘Enough time to find a cure.’
‘Or it could be weeks,’ his wife countered.
‘I’m not going to believe that until I absolutely don’t have any fucking choice.’
‘I can’t believe it either,’ said Macy. ‘There’s got to be something somebody can do.’
Nina shook her head. ‘The Russians were looking for a cure for fifty years, and they didn’t find one. I don’t think our chances are any better.’
‘So you’re just going to accept it? You’re going to give up? Is that why you quit the IHA?’
‘I’m not giving up,’ she said firmly. ‘The reason I quit was so I could do everything else that I wanted to in the time I’ve got left. You’ll probably think it’s weird to hear me say this, but there’s more to life than archaeology.’
‘I’ve been telling you that for years,’ said Eddie.
‘And just this once, you were actually right.’ The couple swapped faint smiles. ‘But that’s why we’ve been travelling – so I could see the whole world, not just what’s buried under it. And it’s also why I’m going to write the book. I want to tell people about everything I’ve discovered – and also that there were other people involved besides me. The IHA turned me into a kind of media-friendly figurehead, and unfortunately, at times I started to believe my own hype. So I want to set the record straight.’
‘Does that mean I’ll be in it?’
‘Do you want to be?’
‘Um, let me think . . . yes! Duh.’
‘Good. You deserve to have people know what you did. And in more detail than this.’ She held up the magazine, then tried to return it to its owner.
‘No, no, that one’s for you,’ Macy told her. ‘I’ve got plenty more copies. Keep it.’
‘Ah . . . thanks.’ Nina put it on the seat. ‘But yeah, if nothing else, the book will be a kind of legacy.’ She turned to her husband. ‘And it’ll mean I can take care of you even after I’m gone.’
‘You’re talking about it like you’re already dead,’ said Eddie with grim irritation. An awkward silence followed.
Macy broke it, covering her discomfort with an excess of enthusiasm. ‘So, uh . . . hey, look, we’re in Beverly Hills!’ She gestured at a street sign informing those driving along Santa Monica Boulevard that they had just crossed the boundary of the exclusive city-within-a-city. ‘I definitely want to go to the Chanel shop.’ She hurriedly drained her glass.
‘Drinking and shopping?’ said Nina, also keen to change the subject. ‘Are you sure that’s wise?’
‘Probably not, but it’s more fun than doing it on Amazon.’ She indicated Nina’s map. ‘I mean, they’ve got Ferragamo, Fendi, Gucci and Prada all right next to each other. It’s like I’ve died and gone to heav— like I’ve, uh . . . found my Mecca?’
‘Good catch,’ Eddie said, with some humour returning.
Macy winced. ‘Sorry. The whole death thing, probably not what you want to hear right now.’
‘It’s okay,’ Nina assured her. She polished off her own drink. ‘How about a refill?’
Eddie reached for the champagne bottle, glancing through the rear window as he did. ‘Ay up.’
‘What?’
‘Look who’s back.’ He gestured, and Nina turned to see a yellow Jeep in the neighbouring lane not far behind them.
‘Oh come on, Eddie,’ she said dismissively. ‘We’re in California – there must be hundreds of Jeeps like that.’
‘No, it’s the same one, I’m sure of it.’ He regarded the 4x4 with deep suspicion, then looked ahead. The traffic was slowing, flashing orange emergency lights visible a few blocks distant. ‘Hey, Hector, I want to take a detour – can you go up one of these side streets?’
‘Only houses up there, nothing to see,’ said the chauffeur.
‘Just take the next right, will you?’
‘For God’s sake,’ said Nina as Hector slowed. ‘You really think we’re being followed?’
‘We’ll know in a minute.’ Eddie turned to watch the cars behind as the Hummer swung off the boulevard. The Wrangler cut clumsily across the lanes, arousing an angry honk from another vehicle, and followed. ‘Told you.’
‘Maybe he lives down here,’ Macy offered, though with little conviction.
‘Hector, go left,’ Eddie ordered, seeing an intersection ahead.
Their driver wasn’t happy. ‘That’s not a proper street, it’s just a back alley.’
‘Take it anyway.’
The limo turned again, brushing a hedge before it straightened out and continued down the narrow lane. The three passengers stared through the rear window. Nothing happened for several seconds . . . then the Jeep reappeared and rounded the corner after them.
‘Okay, so he’s definitely following us,’ said Nina, now worried. ‘What do we do about it?’
‘Ask him why,’ Eddie decided. ‘Hector, when we get to the end of the alley, go right and park when you can. I want to have words with this arsehole.’
‘You sure that’s a good idea?’ Nina asked.
‘Well normally I’d just shoot him and be done with it, but you wouldn’t let me bring my gun.’
The H
ummer reached the next street and made another laborious turn before pulling over in front of a house. A sign at the lawn’s edge stated that the property was PROTECTED BY STERNHAMMER RAPID ARMED RESPONSE; an elderly man looked up from inspecting some minor blemish on his immaculate grass to glare at the ostentatious vehicle.
Eddie opened the offside door and got out as the Jeep emerged from the alley and, as expected, turned towards him. He held up a hand as it approached.
It stopped behind the H2. A man jumped out. Eddie had been right: it was the same person he had briefly seen earlier. He appeared even younger than Macy, and was quite striking, with angular cheekbones and intense blue eyes.
It was his expression that immediately put the Englishman on alert, though. The youth was agitated, even desperate. He reached back into the Jeep to snatch up a leather satchel, then hurried towards the limo. ‘Please!’ he called. ‘I must speak to Dr Wilde at once!’ His accent was strongly German.
At the sound of her name, Nina moved to the open door to look out, while her husband stepped forward to intercept the new arrival. ‘All right, mate,’ Eddie said. ‘What’s going on? Why were you following us?’
The young man saw Nina. ‘Dr Wilde!’ he cried. ‘Dr Wilde, I must give you this. They must not be allowed to raid Alexander’s tomb!’
He tried to slip past Eddie, who blocked him – but his words had already drawn Nina out of the limousine. ‘What about the tomb?’ she said. ‘Who’s “they”?’
The man fumbled open the satchel, taking out several sheets of paper. ‘These are their plans – they are going to break into the tomb and steal the statue of Bucephalus. You have to stop them!’ He thrust the pages at her.
‘I think you need to calm down, mate,’ Eddie said, making the threat in his voice clear. The youth quailed, but held his ground.
Nina reluctantly took the documents. The handwritten text was in German, a language of which she had only limited understanding, but there was an annotated illustration that she immediately recognised. ‘How did you get this?’
‘What is it?’ Macy asked, exiting the Hummer on to the sidewalk.
‘It’s a plan of Alexander the Great’s tomb, in Egypt – and the only places it could have come from are either the Ministry of Antiquities . . . or the IHA.’ She looked back at the blond man. ‘What’s going on? Who’s going to raid the tomb? Eddie, let him past.’
Eddie reluctantly stepped aside. ‘The Oberkommando,’ said the youth, moving to Nina. ‘They need the statue to lead them to the Spring of Immortality. They are—’
A shrill of brakes made everyone whirl. A black Cadillac Escalade EXT pickup truck skidded past the Jeep to stop beside the limo. Its front windows were down, revealing a scowling, shaven-headed man with a prominent scar across his right cheek.
He raised his arm—
A flash of steel in the newcomer’s hand. ‘Gun!’ Eddie yelled. He lunged, shielding Nina as he threw her bodily back into the limo. Macy shrieked and dived over the garden fence.
The automatic boomed three times, the bullets hitting the young man in the chest. Blood splattered over the Hummer’s flank from ragged exit wounds. He crumpled to the asphalt.
The attacker hadn’t finished, though. The gun came up again, locking on to Nina – and firing.
3
Eddie dived at the Cadillac and seized the assassin’s arm, shoving the weapon off target. The Hummer’s side window exploded, bullets whapping into the limo’s seats and shattering bottles.
The Englishman tried to rip the pistol from the attacker’s grip. The scar-faced man kept firing, a stray round hitting the Jeep and exploding its front tyre – then the Escalade’s engine roared and the pickup surged away up the street. Eddie was dragged along for several yards before self-preservation forced him to let go. He landed heavily, the EXT’s rear wheels missing his head by inches as he rolled. The pickup sped away.
Nina ran to him. ‘Eddie! Jesus, are you okay?’
He sat up, wincing. ‘I’m fine. What about you?’
‘I’m all right, he missed me.’ She helped him stand. The gunman had decided to flee rather than finish the attempt on her life, the Escalade still powering away. ‘Who the hell was that?’
‘What the fuck, man?’ Hector screeched, scrambling out of the Hummer and staring at the corpse. ‘What the fuck?’
‘Get back in!’ Eddie shouted. ‘We’ve got to go after him.’
The chauffeur waved his hands. ‘No, no, man. Are you crazy? I’m not getting shot!’
‘Then piss off and let me drive.’ The Englishman hurried to the limo and shoved him aside. ‘Macy, stay there,’ he barked, seeing that the young woman was about to return to the Hummer. The homeowner was already calling an emergency number on his phone. ‘Nina, you wait with her where it’s safe.’
‘I’m not letting you go without me,’ she protested, scrambling into the back of the bullet-pocked vehicle.
After three years of marriage, Eddie knew she wasn’t going to change her mind. ‘Okay, then hold on tight.’ He hopped into the driver’s seat, ignoring Hector’s objections.
‘You’re chasing him?’ Macy called in disbelief.
A distant skirl of tyres told him that the Escalade had reached the next intersection and made a high-speed turn. ‘He’s getting away – but if we follow, we can guide the cops to him.’
‘I don’t think a Hummer limo’s the best pursuit vehicle,’ said Nina.
‘Grant didn’t lend us a Lamborghini, so it’ll have to do.’ Eddie slammed his door, then jammed down the accelerator – and the Hummer leapt forward, leaving Macy and the yelling Hector behind. The stretched H2 still had its original mammoth 6.2 litre engine, and kept its four-wheel drive through the use of an extended driveshaft. ‘Hey, that’s not bad!’
‘Yeah, it’ll be great – right up until you have to turn a corner,’ said Nina, taking out her phone. She had dropped the papers, which now swirled in the wind coming through the broken window. The open magazine was also fluttering. A bullet had ripped through the chest of the photo shoot’s subject. ‘Ooh, Macy won’t like that.’
‘Good job she’s got more copies.’ Eddie kept his foot hard down, the speedometer needle surging past fifty. The Cadillac had gone left at the crossroads ahead. He had no idea how the thirty-foot-long SUV would fare around the same turn, but he was about to find out. ‘Hang on!’
Nina grabbed her seat with one hand, trying to hold the phone to her ear with the other as Eddie braked hard and spun the steering wheel. The limousine lurched, its back end sliding wide through the intersection with a wail of tortured rubber.
For a moment it felt as though the vehicle was about to flip on to its side. Nina shrieked, heels scraping at the carpet – then the limo crashed back down on all four wheels. The champagne bottle was thrown to the floor, spewing froth. The bottles of spirits clashed against each other, more of them smashing and showering their contents across the cabin.
‘Nine-one-one emergency,’ said a faint female voice in her ear as she struggled back upright. ‘What service do you require?’
‘All of them!’ she gasped.
Knuckles white as he gripped the wheel, Eddie looked ahead to see that the Escalade had much less of a lead than he’d expected. The next intersection was of the peculiarly American four-way-stop variety. The EXT had been forced to make an emergency halt to avoid ramming into a pink Bentley Continental convertible crossing its path, ending up slewed diagonally across the road. The Yorkshireman accelerated.
Smoke gushed from the Escalade’s wheels as the driver saw him coming and jammed down the gas pedal. The big truck clipped the Bentley’s front wing as it weaved past. The Continental’s driver, a thin blonde woman in enormous sunglasses, stopped and clapped both hands to her face with a shriek of horror.
It was a sound that was about
to get louder. The Bentley was blocking the line the stretched Hummer needed to follow around the corner. Eddie hammered on the horn as the limo powered towards the crossroads. The woman gawped at him; he waved for her to get clear. ‘Come on, move!’
Behind him, Nina was through to the police. ‘No, I don’t know where we are!’ she told the infuriatingly laid-back dispatcher. ‘It’s – it’s a street with palm trees in Beverly Hills!’
‘That doesn’t narrow it down, ma’am,’ came the response.
Nina forced back an obscenity – then another escaped her mouth as she looked through the windscreen. ‘Shit! Eddie, we’re gonna hit it!’
The blonde finally got the message, one pink stiletto flying off as she scrambled from the Bentley. ‘Brace yourself!’ Eddie warned. He braked as he spun the wheel to follow the Cadillac, the limousine’s rear swinging out into an uncontrollable skid—
The Hummer cannoned off the Continental’s side, the luxurious convertible acting as a bumper to keep the limo on course. Even braced, Nina was still thrown across the cabin. There was a horrible shrill of steel as the two cars ground against each other, then the H2 was clear.
‘God damn it, Eddie!’ Nina cried as she sat up, senses reeling.
‘You okay?’ he called.
‘Oh, super fine, thanks! Look, stop this thing before someone gets killed!’
‘I’m not letting that arsehole get away.’ The EXT had opened the gap again. Eddie accelerated. The new street headed south to rejoin Santa Monica Boulevard; at its far end, he saw the flashing orange warning lights he had noticed earlier.
But there was another vehicle much closer that could stop the pursuit. For a moment he thought the approaching Chevrolet Impala was a police car, before recognising the name STERNHAMMER emblazoned across the side and realising that it belonged to the private security company. It swerved, trying to block the Cadillac’s path, but the Escalade rode two wheels up on to the grass verge to get past. The patrol car made a noisy handbrake turn, reversing direction and pursuing.