The Valhalla Prophecy

  Natalia’s sudden look of horror warned him that he was doing more than that. “What?” he whispered.

  She waved him to silence, listening intently. The commander was speaking again, but now in a much more amiable tone. The boy laughed and gave him a happy reply. The other villagers were conspicuously silent.

  “He’s asking if he’s seen me,” she told Chase, frightened. “He calls me ‘the girl with yellow hair,’ and—and he said yes!”

  “Shit,” Chase hissed. Outside, the car’s doors opened again. Still sounding friendly, the commander asked another question. The boy’s response was enthusiastic.

  Too enthusiastic. He hurried to the door of the building, calling out. Natalia swallowed. “He told them I’m in here!”

  Options flashed through Chase’s mind. He didn’t like any of them. Both potential escape routes would put them only a matter of yards from their pursuers, but if he tried to stand and fight he would be outnumbered and outgunned—

  Out of time. The boy ignored his mother’s pleas to come back to her and entered the building—then the room. Behind him, Chase saw tough leather boots beneath khaki trousers. The commander. A second man, then a third, followed him. One of the children in the beds made a sound of fearful surprise at the sight of the strangers.

  Adrenaline surged through the Englishman’s body as the boy limped toward him, then stopped—but not by his bed. Or Natalia’s. The boy eagerly beckoned the commander to look at something.

  One of the other men chuckled quietly, drawing an irritated exhalation from his superior. He spoke to the boy again, now more patronizing than friendly, then issued an order. The three men turned and clomped out of the building. The boy went after them, still asking questions.

  Natalia started to crawl out from under her bed, but Chase waved for her to remain still. He waited until the car had restarted and driven away before finally signaling that it was safe for her to move. Hands shaking, she slowly emerged. “What happened?”

  Chase had already gotten to his feet and found the explanation. “You were in here, and he brought them to see.”

  The realization made her laugh, though it was a pure release of tension rather than humor. “So I am,” she said, gently touching the photograph of herself. “Oh God, I thought they had found us …”

  “So did I.” He took a slow breath, trying to calm down. “It’s too risky to stay here—they’ll probably come back. They know that you know about this place, and since it’s the nearest village, they’ll expect you to come here sooner or later.”

  “I cannot let anything happen to my friends because of me,” she said, nodding. “You are right, we have to go.”

  A thought occurred to Chase. “Bollocks!”

  “What is it?”

  “The mine. We can’t leave it for a bomb-disposal guy to deal with—they’ll know we were here.”

  “How?”

  “ ’Cause they’ll realize that someone with training did their job for them. And I’m guessing that even if we’re long gone, it won’t be good for your friends if anyone finds out they sheltered us.”

  “It will not,” said Natalia gloomily. “It is getting better, but … it is still not a free country. So what do we do?”

  “We’ll have to take the bloody thing with us. Once we get to the rendezvous, I’ll blow it up just before we leave.” He went to the window and pushed open the shutter. The villagers were clustered outside, several still staring anxiously up the road after the departed vehicle. “You say bye to your friends while I get the mine and my gun. Tell ’em thanks from me too.”

  “I will,” Natalia replied. She began to say good-bye to the children.

  Chase left her, giving hurried gestures of gratitude to the people outside before retrieving his rucksack and jogging back to the river. The Bouncing Betty and the AKS were still there, untouched. He shouldered the rifle, then carefully picked up the mine and detonator before starting back to the village. A flustered Natalia met him on the outskirts. “I told them that if I get caught, I will not tell them I went to the village,” she said. “But I—”

  “We won’t get caught,” Chase cut in firmly. “I’ll take you to the rendezvous, and then we’ll be out of here. We just need to get across the river.”

  She pointed downstream. “There is a shallow place where we can cross. It goes to a track on the other side.”

  “Great.” He had already memorized the relative positions of the village and the rendezvous on the map; the journey through the jungle would take only a few hours. Cradling the land mine in the crook of one arm, he led the way along the riverbank, Natalia right behind him.

  15

  Norway

  Nina stared coldly at her former colleague. Though he was only in his late thirties, a spell in jail had aged Logan Berkeley considerably; he had a streak of gray in his brown hair and deep creases around his eyes that were definitely not the product of laughter. There was also a lump in his nose—though that had come from Nina’s fist rather than incarceration. “So, Logan, you mind telling me what all this is about?” she demanded, struggling to hold back her anger. “Robbing museums, armed raids on archaeological digs—I guess this makes you a recidivist, since doing jail time apparently didn’t change your ways.”

  “My ways?” Berkeley snapped. “You forced me into this, Nina!”

  “Nobody forced you into anything.”

  “No? Everything bad that’s happened to me in the past two years is entirely your fault. You ruined the opening of the Hall of Records and turned me into an international joke, and then you got me locked up in an Egyptian prison!” His nasal New England accent was still filled with an arrogant superiority despite his misadventures. “You destroyed my career—I’m doing what I have to do to get by.”

  “You got locked up in an Egyptian prison because you were paid by a cult leader to raid a lost pyramid!” Nina hooted. “As far as I’m concerned, you got off lightly. And if you wanted to ‘get by,’ you could always have tried finding, y’know, a job. Not hooking up with a gang of thieves and murderers.”

  That last shook the other archaeologist. The lines on his face deepened as he frowned. “What are you talking about? Nobody’s been murdered.”

  “Enough of this,” Hoyt interrupted, lighting a roll-up. “Let’s just get the stone, huh? Since they brought it up for us.” He looked out across the frozen lake. “Axby, Silver, go check that the ice is safe, then winch it up.” Two of his men jogged away.

  “What the fuck are you doing here, Hoyt?” Eddie said, regarding the American with undisguised loathing.

  “I’m still in the game, Chase. I get hired to do jobs, and get paid big bucks for doing them. Just like you used to—well, except for the big-bucks part. You never did get paid for Vietnam, did you?”

  “Put down that gun and I’ll kick what I’m owed out of your arse,” the Englishman growled. Hoyt’s only reply was a mocking smirk, his compact FN P90 submachine gun still covering its target.

  “Eddie, who is this guy?” Nina asked.

  “His name’s Carl Hoyt,” her husband replied. “He’s a backstabbing, murdering shithead I had the bad luck to work with about eight years ago.”

  “A mercenary?” He nodded. Nina faced Hoyt. “Who are you working for? And what do you want?”

  Hoyt’s oily smirk widened slightly. “Client confidentiality, darlin’—I can’t tell you that. But we’re here for the stone, that’s all. We got the first one already, and we want to complete the set.”

  “You’re trying to find Valhalla, aren’t you? Why?”

  “What part of ‘confidentiality’ didn’t they teach you at archaeology school?” The mercenary looked around at a shout from the crane. “Raise it up!” he called back. The runestone resumed its rise from the frigid water.

  “So what’re you going to do with us?” Eddie demanded.

  “We’re not going to do anything,” Berkeley said before Hoyt could answer. “All we want is the runestone.” He steppe
d closer to the fire, leaning forward to warm his face.

  Nina considered kicking him into the flames, but the sight of the guns forced her to settle for shooting her rival a scathing look. “So you waited for us to find it, then came in to steal it?”

  Berkeley straightened, responding to Nina’s jab with considerable indignation. “Believe it or not, Nina, I was perfectly capable of translating the runes and deciphering the location of the second stone on my own.” He huffed, plumes of breathy arrogance blowing from his nostrils into the cold air, then addressed Tova. “Sorry about this, Dr. Skilfinger, but I’m only doing what I have to do.”

  “What you have to do,” Tova echoed bitterly. “So you think you had to kill Arvid to take the first stone?”

  Again Berkeley was thrown by the accusation. “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, didn’t your friends tell you, Logan?” said Nina, her voice acidic. “They killed a security guard at the museum when you stole the runestone. You’re an accessory to murder. Forgot to mention that, did they?”

  The archaeologist rounded on Hoyt. “Is this true? Did your people—did they kill someone?”

  “Afraid so,” he replied, though without a trace of remorse on his hard face. “He came at us out of nowhere. We didn’t have any choice.”

  “That is not true!” Tova protested. “The police said he was shot in the back!”

  “While he was going for an alarm,” the mercenary told Berkeley, still with no more concern than if he had been discussing the weather. “But it happened, and wishing won’t make it un-happen. We’re here to do a job, so let’s get on with it, huh?” He raised his gun slightly for emphasis. “Dr. Berkeley, you might want to go check on the stone before we bring it ashore. Make sure these guys actually know their shit and found the right one.”

  Berkeley blinked in momentary confusion, still shaken by the revelation. “What? Oh, yeah, right. Is the chopper ready to load it?” He gestured at the EC175.

  “Soon as you get it to ’em,” Hoyt replied. Berkeley nodded, then started for the lake.

  “And what about us?” Nina asked loudly, making sure the retreating man heard her. “Are you going to kill us too?” Berkeley paused, looking back at Hoyt for an answer.

  The mercenary’s face tightened. “You don’t give us any trouble, we won’t give you any trouble. We just want the stone.”

  That satisfied Berkeley, and he continued out onto the ice. The crane had by now lifted the runestone fully out of the water. Nina watched its ascent, fury and frustration churning inside her. She gave Eddie a sidelong glance. His expression was one she had seen many times before: guarded, giving little away about his thoughts—but she knew that behind the mask, he was taking stock of their captors, searching for weaknesses. Getting ready to attack.

  All he needed was an opportunity …

  There was not going to be one. As if reading his mind, Hoyt stepped back, then ordered his men to widen the cordon around the prisoners. “Don’t do anything dumb, now,” he said, the remark aimed directly at the Englishman.

  “Wouldn’t want to steal your thunder,” Eddie replied. If he had been hoping to provoke Hoyt, the attempt failed; the mercenary merely smirked again, keeping his P90 fixed on his onetime comrade.

  Nina turned her attention back to the lake. Berkeley opened his case and took out an expensive camera, snapping several pictures of the ice-crusted runes before signaling to Hoyt’s men. One stopped the winch, the other climbing into the crane truck’s cab and gently revving the engine. Ice crunching beneath its wheels, it began its ponderous return to the shore.

  Berkeley walked ahead of the vehicle, leading it to the larger helicopter. Hoyt nodded to some of his men. “Help him get it loaded,” he ordered. They hurried off. Nina saw a subtle shift in Eddie’s stance as he watched the remaining men spread out to keep their prisoners covered. The odds had shifted—only slightly, but she knew from past experience that he was a master at exploiting any advantage.

  But there was still nothing he could do. The gunmen were standing too far away for him to tackle without being cut down.

  The sun was finally gone, the sky’s twilight glow fading to leave the campfire as the brightest source of illumination. More lights came on inside the EC175 as Hoyt’s men extended a sturdy winch arm out from the cabin, ready to receive the runestone. The monolith itself had now made landfall, the crane truck lumbering to the waiting aircraft and backing up to it. More chains were attached, these connected to the chopper’s winch. With Berkeley issuing instructions and warnings to be careful, the heavy stone slab was slowly brought into the cabin.

  Matt watched the transfer ruefully. “So we put in all that work bringing the thing up, and these guys just swoop in like seagulls and steal it?” He eyed Hoyt, lowering his voice to say to Eddie: “There’s got to be something we can do, mate.”

  “There isn’t” came the curt reply.

  Hoyt gave Eddie a sneering look. “Nobody to help you out this time, Chase. Although with the way you show your gratitude, that’s probably a good thing!”

  The Englishman scowled. “Shut up.”

  “Why?” Hoyt came closer, but he kept his gun fixed on Eddie. “Oh, I get it. You didn’t tell anyone what really went on in Vietnam? Can’t say I’m surprised—if anyone knew what happened to the people you were supposed to be protecting, you might have had trouble getting work.” He glanced at Nina. “She’s your wife, yeah? Amazed she’s still alive with you looking after her. You tell her about it?”

  Eddie glared at him, avoiding Nina’s questioning gaze. “Nothing to tell.”

  “Oh, I dunno. She might wanna find out what you’re really like.”

  “I know what he’s like,” Nina said.

  “You know what he did, though? Might change your—” He broke off at a shout from the helicopter, backing away from Eddie before turning. The runestone was now secured in the Eurocopter’s cabin. The driver moved the crane truck well clear of the aircraft and got out. Berkeley signaled to Hoyt that everything was ready, then clambered into the helicopter. Its engines started up, the rotors beginning their slow rise to takeoff speed. The Jet Ranger also whined to life.

  “You’ve gotten what you came for,” said Nina. “Are you going to let us go?”

  Hoyt turned back to face the prisoners. A nasty smile creased his fleshless face. “Nope.”

  “Didn’t think you would,” Eddie growled.

  “That was just for Berkeley, to keep him on our side. We need him to translate the stone and figure out how to find Valhalla, but I knew from the first minute I met him he wouldn’t have the stomach for anything more. Like getting rid of witnesses.”

  Panic ran through the group. The men surrounding them stepped closer, bringing up their guns. Tova gasped in terror.

  Despite the fear coursing through her, Nina managed to summon up some defiance. “You’re just going to mow us down?” she asked, hoping that Eddie was planning some way to fight back. But he seemed oddly calm. Not accepting of the situation—more waiting for the right moment to act. She couldn’t see what he meant to do, though. “I think Logan’ll hear that even over the chopper.”

  “No he won’t,” Hoyt replied. “Garrow?”

  One of the gunmen reached into his coat, taking out a chunky black metal cylinder. He slid it over his P90’s muzzle, locking it into position with a sharp click. “Silence is golden,” the mercenary leader said with a smirk.

  One of the Norwegians cried out in horror as Garrow raised his weapon. Nina tensed, muscles tightening as her fight-or-flight reflex kicked in, but she could do neither. Beside her, Eddie’s gaze flicked over the men surrounding them, but he still didn’t seem about to take any action …

  “Do it,” said Hoyt, nodding at Garrow. The P90 rounded on Nina—

  A whipcrack sound, and a hole the size of a coin appeared in Garrow’s forehead—as the entire back of his coat’s hood blew outward in an eruption of gore.

  Now Eddie moved, lunging at the dea
d man as he collapsed and snatching the gun from his nerveless fingers. Hoyt’s other men were still frozen in shock by the unexpected attack—then one of them broke through his paralysis and swung to cut down the Englishman.

  Eddie was faster. The stolen P90 bucked in his hand as he swept it around and pulled the trigger, the suppressor reducing the gunshots to dull clacks. The mercenary and the man next to him fell backward as the spray of automatic fire stitched bloody lines across their chests.

  “Run!” Eddie yelled. He tracked Hoyt, but the American dived behind a truck before he could shoot. “Get to cover!”

  Nina had already responded, seizing Tova by the wrist and pulling her past the fire to drop down behind another crippled vehicle. Matt ran in a different direction, scrambling into the little shelter containing the submersible’s controls.

  Mikkel was also quick to respond, pushing Peder behind a four-by-four. But some of the team were as stunned as the mercenaries, left gawping as the bodies fell around them.

  It cost them their own lives. One of Hoyt’s men finally snapped back into motion and opened fire on the group as it splintered, slicing down two of its members and turning to find more—

  A burst of Eddie’s bullets ripped into his stomach. He fell, screaming.

  The Englishman was now the mercenaries’ primary target. Another gunman rounded on him—

  A second sniper round punched through the man’s chest and exploded out of his back.

  Eddie had already realized from the supersonic crack of the first bullet that the unseen shooter was on the far side of the lake. One of the mercenaries was slower on the uptake, head darting from side to side as he tried to find the source of the gunfire. Two shots from the silenced P90 brought an abrupt end to his search.

  Eddie ducked behind a truck, giving his weapon’s translucent plastic magazine a momentary glance to check the remaining ammo—about half of the original fifty rounds—before rising to locate Hoyt.

  The American was running for the larger helicopter. “Take off, take off!” he yelled to the pilot. “Get the stone out of here! The rest of you, give us cover!” More members of his team jumped out to join the battle.