For a moment Dalton seemed about to break . . . but then he summoned up a reserve of haughty defiance. ‘I’m not telling you a goddamn thing. And you, Chase,’ he snapped, looking back at Eddie, ‘get that damn gun off of me, you Limey son of a bitch!’
He tried to pull out of the Englishman’s hold. Eddie responded by driving a knee into the back of his leg, making him cry out and stumble.
Jared instinctively glanced towards the scuffle to see if his friend needed help—
A sharp metallic snick, and Anna charged at him, brandishing a glinting switchblade that she had pulled from her sleeve.
Jared caught the movement, but his line of fire was blocked by Cross. He hesitated for an instant, not wanting to shoot a prisoner in the back – then shoved Cross aside—
His shot caught Anna’s left arm, blowing a chunk of flesh from her bicep. She screamed – but had already dived at him, the blade held out before her like a lance.
It stabbed into Jared’s thigh.
He yelled, leg buckling as she crashed against him. Eddie hauled Dalton around as he tried to aim at the wounded woman, but she was shielded behind the fallen Mossad agent.
‘Anna!’ cried Simeon. He hurled himself behind the circle of thrones and snatched up his fallen MP5. Eddie spun to face the new threat—
‘Nobody shoot!’ boomed Cross. ‘No one shoot!’ He raised both hands, turning to address both Eddie and his own followers. ‘There won’t be any killing in God’s house.’
‘Don’t bet on it,’ Eddie snarled, pulling Dalton closer as he kept the Desert Eagle locked on Simeon’s cover. The metal of the throne was thick, but a .50-calibre round was more than capable of punching a hole right through it, and the man behind.
‘He shot Anna!’ Simeon shouted.
Cross glanced at her wound. ‘She’ll live.’
‘You won’t,’ gasped Jared, bringing up his gun—
Anna wrenched her blade around, tearing it deeper into his muscle. His cry this time was a full-blown scream of agony. But despite the pain, he swung the gun towards her . . .
She swiped it from his hand. The pistol clattered across the stone floor to end up near a tapestry.
‘Nina, get the gun!’ Eddie shouted.
She started forward, only for Cross to block her way. ‘Dr Wilde,’ he said. ‘It seems we have a stand-off.’
‘Like buggery we do,’ said Eddie.
Cross glanced towards his men, some of whom had recovered their weapons in the chaos. Washburn, his slashed cheek now home to a line of stitches, glared at Eddie. ‘We outgun you, over two to one,’ the cult leader said. ‘But I’m not willing to see a bloodbath in this holy place. Unless,’ he added, ‘you leave us with no choice.’
Nina regarded him coldly. ‘Yeah, I was wondering how long it would take before you gave yourself a get-out clause.’
‘I don’t want to do it. But I’m being completely honest; I’m willing to offer a deal. Let us leave with the angel, and I give you my word before God that as long as you remain in this temple, we won’t kill you.’
‘Prophet!’ protested Simeon. ‘Anna needs medical attention. We can’t let these—’
Cross raised an angry hand, silencing him. ‘Those are my terms, Dr Wilde,’ he continued. ‘They’re non-negotiable. If you want to stay alive, hand over the angel.’
Eddie drew Dalton closer, tapping the gun against the grey-haired man’s head. ‘Aren’t you forgetting something? You want me to go all Lee Harvey on your mate here?’
Cross gave his prisoner a dismissive look. ‘You can keep him. I don’t need him any more.’
‘What?’ said Nina, shocked.
‘What?’ echoed Dalton, with considerably more anger.
‘His political connections were useful, and he did suggest that you were the best person to find the angels,’ Cross explained. ‘But right now, the office of the President of the United States is a symbol, if not the embodiment, of the utter corruption of the so-called elites of this world. Do what you like with him.’
Dalton shook with fury. ‘You slimy little son of a bitch!’
Eddie was barely more pleased. ‘We don’t want him either!’
‘Time to make a decision, Dr Wilde,’ said Cross, ignoring him. ‘You can have a shootout that will leave you, your husband and your friend dead—’
‘And you too,’ Eddie warned, keeping behind Dalton as he shifted his aim to the cult leader.
‘But we’ll still have the angel. My followers will carry out the plan. Babylon will fall, even if I’m not there to witness it. Or you can give us the angel and we’ll leave you to give this man first aid.’ He glanced at Jared, then nodded to Anna. ‘Which he’ll need.’ The young Israeli screamed again as Anna ground the knife deeper into his thigh.
‘God damn it!’ Nina cried. ‘You said we wouldn’t be hurt!’
‘I said you wouldn’t be killed. Your choice, Dr Wilde. The only way for all three of you to stay alive – all four of you,’ he added, gaze flicking to the apoplectic Dalton – ‘is to give me the angel.’
Nina regarded the statue in her hand, then looked helplessly at her husband. ‘Eddie . . .’
‘They’re going to kill us anyway,’ he rumbled.
Cross shook his head. ‘No. I gave my word before God. I won’t break it, and my followers won’t either.’ He gestured to his men. They hesitated, then lowered their guns. Simeon held out, but a second, more forceful signal finally prompted him to obey.
Eddie rapidly reassessed the odds. If he was accurate with the Desert Eagle, he would kill or incapacitate anyone he hit, but he doubted he would get off more than two shots before being cut down. He was also certain that Dalton’s presence wouldn’t deter the gunmen in the slightest, the ex-president now nothing more than a meaty bullet sponge.
But he still wasn’t willing to give Cross what he wanted. ‘If they take the angel, they’ll kill a lot of people,’ he reminded Nina. ‘I don’t want to say this, but the best thing to do is smash the fucking thing right now. Better twelve people die than twelve thousand.’
‘I know, but . . .’ The numbers made sense in terms of cold logic, a small sacrifice to save countless lives . . . but there were more than twelve lives in the chamber. She brought her palm to the small swelling below her waist. ‘I can’t,’ she whispered. ‘I can’t do it. It’s just . . . I can’t,’ she repeated.
‘Shit,’ said Eddie under his breath, though with full understanding and sympathy.
Nina looked back at Cross. ‘I absolutely have your word, before God, that you won’t kill us?’
‘We’ll take the angel and leave,’ he replied. ‘As long as you stay in this throne room, we won’t harm you. I’ve made you a promise, and my followers will keep it too.’ He locked eyes with each of his people in turn. All nodded, even Anna and Simeon. ‘Anna, let him go.’
Anna tugged the blade out of Jared’s leg. The Israeli let out a cry, clapping a hand over the wound as she stood painfully.
Cross held out a hand. ‘The angel?’
‘Nina . . .’ said Eddie.
‘I have to,’ she told him, conflict clear in her voice. She placed the statue on the floor, then stepped back.
Cross crouched to examine it with reverence before picking it up. He turned it over in his hands, paying close attention to the fine details, before announcing: ‘It’s real. It’s the last angel. And,’ he said as he stood, ‘it’s mine.’
‘You’re really going to let them live?’ demanded Simeon.
‘Yes, we are. I gave my word to God.’ He bowed his head to the central throne, then started towards the exit. ‘Everyone move out.’
Keeping his gun aimed in Eddie’s direction, Simeon scurried to Anna, giving Jared a poisonous glare as he checked her wound. The other men went to the exit. Eddie stayed behind Dalton, Desert Eagle at the ready. ‘Nina, get behind me.’ She retreated, using one of the thrones as cover.
‘You’re letting them go?’ Dalton asked Eddie with angry disbe
lief.
‘You want me to start shooting?’ he fired back. ‘’Cause you’ll be my bulletproof vest!’
‘Nobody needs to shoot anyone,’ said Cross, holding the statue up to the iridescent light coming through the opal. ‘Not in here. But if you leave the throne room before we’re gone . . .’
‘Knew there’d be a fucking catch,’ Eddie muttered.
Cross and Simeon exchanged whispered words, then the latter spoke to his troops. ‘Norvin, get the Prophet and the angel out of here. I’ll take Anna; the rest of you, cover us.’ He glanced at Cross, then went on, trying to suppress his frustration: ‘Don’t fire unless fired upon.’
Hatch and the other men took up positions at the entrance as first Cross and Norvin, then Simeon and Anna left the room, the cult leader looking longingly at the Tabernacle before departing. ‘If there is a God, he’ll make that fucking bridge collapse under them,’ said Eddie as the remaining gunmen retreated.
Dalton watched them go with dismay. ‘Now what do we do?’
‘Oh, so when everything goes up shit creek, you ask us for advice? You fucking idiot.’ The Yorkshireman shoved Dalton away and moved to look down the tunnel, spotting Hatch backing away, gun raised. ‘That Bible-thumper promised God that we wouldn’t be harmed in here, but I bet that promise ends the second we set foot outside the door.’
Nina retrieved her backpack, then hurried to Jared. ‘Eddie, I’m sorry, but I couldn’t do it,’ she said as she took out a first-aid kit. ‘I couldn’t do that to our baby. I’m sorry.’
‘It’s okay,’ he told her. ‘We’ll figure something else out.’ Hatch disappeared from view; Eddie went to the tunnel entrance. ‘Jared, you okay?’
‘I never realised being stabbed would hurt this bad,’ the Israeli replied through clenched teeth.
‘Just wait until you try to walk on that leg.’
‘Thanks a lot, alter kocker.’ He gasped as Nina cut away the torn material to reveal the bloodied wound beneath. ‘How does it look?’
‘I’m not an expert, but . . . not great.’ Blood was still pumping from the gash.
‘Just do what you can to stop the bleeding,’ said Eddie. ‘I’ll come and help you in a minute.’
‘Where are you going?’ asked Nina.
‘To stop that lot from leaving.’ There was no sign of anyone in the tunnel, though he could still hear activity in the cenote. Raising the Desert Eagle, he crept down the passage.
He soon saw the doorway ahead. The raiders had not left a rearguard – at least not on this side of the bridge. He moved closer.
The rope was still in place, pulled taut above the crossing. But he saw as he neared the door that it was moving, jiggling up and down—
He realised what was happening just as the person hacking away at the line with a combat knife finally severed the last few strands. The far end of the rope fell away to hang limply down into the cenote. Eddie held in an obscenity, hearing movement from the other side of the bridge.
He leaned around the edge of the opening . . .
And his eyes widened in fear as he saw Simeon aiming his grenade launcher.
Eddie sprinted back into the darkness as a shotgun-like bam! propelled a forty-millimetre grenade across the chasm.
It struck – but he wasn’t the target.
Instead, it hit the end of the bridge. The explosion as the ancient wood was blasted into splinters blew Eddie off his feet. The shattered structure toppled into the abyss with a noise like the clattering of dried bones.
On the far side of the cenote, Simeon and Hatch, holding a flashlight, scrambled backwards as the detonation sent broken stones flying at them. A deep crunching reverberated around the passage – then a great chunk of the cenote’s wall sheared off and smashed down on to the end of the tunnel, almost completely blocking it.
Simeon regained his composure. ‘Don’t think they’ll get out of there,’ he said, as Hatch shone his light over the boulder. The two men shared a triumphant smile, then hurried to catch up with their leader.
Nina had just finished cleaning Jared’s wound when the explosion ripped through the passageway. ‘Eddie!’ she yelled, running down the tunnel to find him.
A choking cloud hit her, reducing her flashlight’s beam to a haze. She buried her nose and mouth in the crook of her arm. ‘Eddie, can you hear me?’ she called, voice muffled.
Coughing answered her. ‘Yeah, I’m okay,’ her husband rasped. ‘Just got knocked over. My ears are still ringing, though. Not that that’s anything new.’
She groped in the darkness, her hand finally touching leather. ‘Can you stand?’
He took her arm. ‘More or less.’ Another bout of coughing, then they headed back to the throne room. ‘Bastards took out the bridge with a grenade. They cut the rope, too.’
‘So how are we going to get out of here?’ They cleared the wafting smoke, the sparking light of the temple beckoning them ahead.
‘Dunno, but we’ll have to— Oh, for fuck’s sake.’
Dalton stood inside the entrance, pointing Jared’s pistol at them. ‘Stay where you are! Drop the gun, Chase.’
‘Sorry, Eddie,’ said the Israeli from the floor, one hand covering his wound. ‘I wasn’t fast enough to stop him.’
‘No problem,’ Eddie replied, eyes fixed contemptuously on the older man’s trembling hand. ‘The dozy twat’s left the safety on.’
Dalton frowned, but with a flicker of uncertainty. Eddie shrugged and advanced on him. The politician twisted his wrist to bring the safety lever into view, tipping the weapon away from its target – and the Englishman instantly snapped up the Desert Eagle and aimed it unwaveringly at his head. ‘Drop it.’
Dalton flinched, then with a muted moan of defeat let the pistol fall to the floor. ‘Now that’s what I call an executive decision,’ said Nina.
‘Dickhead,’ said Eddie as he collected the weapon. ‘If someone you’re pointing a gun at tells you the safety’s on, you know how you test that? By pulling the fucking trigger!’
‘Pardon me for not being a psychotic killer,’ Dalton replied, fuming.
‘Oh, you’re a killer,’ Nina told him as she returned to Jared. ‘Just not the kind who gets his hands dirty. Until now, at least. How does it feel to be out in the field, and on the wrong end of some blowback?’
The ex-president struggled to get his temper back under control. ‘Never mind that,’ he said. ‘If the bridge is gone, we’re trapped in here! What are we going to do?’
‘Shoot you if you don’t stop whingeing,’ said Eddie. ‘Nina, you got my phone?’ She passed it to him. He checked the screen. ‘No network. Can’t say I’m surprised, but it was worth a try.’
Nina bandaged the Mossad agent’s leg. ‘You said they cut the rope. From this side?’
‘No, the other side,’ Eddie replied.
‘So we might be able to use it to get across the cenote?’
‘Maybe, if that explosion didn’t shred it or knock the pitons out of the wall.’
‘We need to check.’ She secured the bandage. ‘How does that feel?’
Jared sat up slowly, face drawn tight with pain. ‘Like I got stabbed in the leg.’
Nina helped him up. ‘Can you walk?’
He took a couple of experimental steps. ‘Just about,’ he gasped.
‘Guess you won’t be winning this month’s Mossad fun run,’ said Eddie.
Jared gave him a strained grin. ‘At least I’ll be trying, old man.’
‘Yeah, you’re bloody trying all right. Come on, let’s see what’s left of the bridge.’ He waved the Desert Eagle at Dalton. ‘Oi! Commander-in-Chief, lead from the front. Let’s go.’
The group made their way back down the decorated passage. Some of the paintings near the doorway had been damaged by flying debris, but to Nina’s relief the majority were intact; even given their grim situation, part of her was still overjoyed that the temple and its contents had not been destroyed.
Whether she would ever tell anyone
about her find was another matter. ‘That’s . . . not ideal,’ she said, shining her light at the empty space where the bridge had been.
Eddie had reclaimed his own torch from Jared. ‘Nor’s that.’ He illuminated the rock blocking the tunnel across the shaft. ‘Looks pretty unstable, but I don’t fancy trying to pull it loose from that hole.’
‘We could send Dalton over,’ suggested Nina jokingly. The politician was not amused.
Eddie redirected his torch at the rope. As he had feared, it had been damaged by the blast – the outer layers of strands closest to the grenade’s point of impact were torn and ragged – but it was still in one piece. He pulled on it, testing both that the pitons were still fixed to the rock and that it would not snap under stress. ‘It’ll hold. I think.’
‘What are you going to do?’ Jared asked. ‘Run it around the shaft and try to pull that rock out of the way?’
‘It won’t reach.’ The length of line was just enough to span the shaft’s diameter, but the smooth, curved walls forming the cenote’s circumference were much longer.
‘Then we’re trapped here?’ exclaimed Dalton.
‘At least we’ll have something to eat,’ said Nina, staring at him for just long enough to make him uncomfortable before indicating a clump of mushrooms that had survived the explosion. ‘Actually, we’d probably find some of these inside the jar in the Ark. It’s supposed to contain manna, the food God sent to the Israelites, and the description of manna was like a kind of mushroom or fungus.’
‘These are in a cave, not out in the desert, though,’ Jared pointed out.
‘Yes, but we saw them in—’ An electric thought hit her. ‘The pool outside, the sinkhole. There were some floating in the water!’
‘So?’ asked Dalton. ‘They probably grow all over this place.’
‘But we’ve only seen them in the tunnels. So,’ she pressed on, ‘there’s water at the bottom of this shaft, and we came up a slope for some distance to get here. What if it’s the same water in both, at the same level, and they’re connected? The mushrooms we saw outside might have come from here!’