Macy fell on her butt, dropping the case at the edge of the shaft. Heart racing, Nina looked across the bucking bridge. Diamondback held the wounded Eddie at gunpoint as the rest of the group struggled upright.

  Shaban would use Eddie as a hostage, she knew, forcing her to surrender the canopic jar in exchange for his life … then kill him anyway. The same would happen if she kicked the case into the shaft.

  There was only one possible choice she could make. It was the same choice Eddie had made in a similar situation not long after they first met, only with the players reversed. If she wanted to save him …

  She had to abandon him.

  Leaping to her feet, she grabbed the fallen knife and yanked the case off the floor by its harness straps. “We gotta go!”

  Macy stared at her in shock. “But Eddie—”

  “Run!” Clutching the case, she sprinted into the passage. Macy gave Eddie a desperate look—then ran after Nina at the sight of guns coming up. Bullets blasted chunks out of the stonework behind her.

  Shaban was red with rage. “Kill them! Kill them!” he screamed, grabbing an MP7 from one of his men to unleash the remainder of the magazine himself. But the women were gone. With an incoherent scream of pure fury, he hurled the weapon to the floor so hard that its plastic handgrip cover shattered. Fists balled, he looked up and saw Eddie.

  For a moment the Englishman thought he was going to throw him off the ledge personally, before some semblance of self-control returned. “Shoot him!” Shaban ordered. Diamondback grinned.

  “Sebak, wait!” shouted Khaleel. Diamondback hesitated at the officer’s bark of authority as Shaban whipped around to glare at his unexpected challenger. “You can use him to bargain for the jar. She won’t destroy it as long as she thinks she can get him back.”

  Shaban took several long, deep breaths, still shaking with volcanic anger. “You’re right,” he finally said. “Thank you for stopping me, my friend.”

  “I always had your best interests in mind. And mine, of course,” he added with a small smile.

  “So we’re not gonna kill him?” Diamondback sounded disappointed.

  “Of course we are,” Shaban growled. “When we have the jar.”

  “I’ll live to be a hundred, then,” said Eddie, holding his wounded arm. “You’ll never catch her. She’ll get back to Abydos, tell the Egyptian government what’s happened … and then you, mate, will be fucked.”

  “I don’t think so.” The faintest hint of amusement creased Shaban’s scarred face as the chain finally jolted to a stop. The remaining troopers rushed across the bridge. “You don’t know how we got here, do you?”

  “What the hell is that?” Macy gasped as she and Nina climbed a ladder out of the pyramid and ran to the Land Rover, squinting in the brightness of the desert sun.

  “Bad news.” About a hundred yards away was an enormous military hovercraft, its forward landing ramp lowered and gaping like a huge dull-witted mouth. Khaleel had provided Shaban with more than moral support. “But if we can get to the canyon, there’s no way it’ll be able to follow us.” Nina climbed behind the wheel and put the case on the center seat, shoving the knife back into the sheath on the harness.

  Macy got in the other side. “But what about Eddie?” she protested as Nina started the engine. “They’ll kill him—they might have killed him already!”

  She backed away from the ruin, turning east. “As long as they think they can use him to get the jar back, they’ll keep him alive.”

  “And how long will they keep thinking that?”

  “Hopefully longer than it takes me to figure out how to rescue him!”

  Less than happy with the answer, Macy checked the case for damage, then wrapped a seat belt around it to hold it in place. “Holy crap!” she squeaked, seeing what else was attached to the webbing. “There are two hand grenades on this thing!”

  “Leave them alone,” Nina cautioned.

  “But they’re jiggling about and banging against each other! What if they blow up?”

  “They’ll be fine as long as you don’t pull out the pins.” She half smiled, remembering a time when Eddie had given her a similar lesson, then focused her attention on the empty plain ahead.

  Shaban’s team exited the pyramid to find the Zubr’s pilot waiting. The man hastily explained the situation to Khaleel in Arabic before pointing eastward. Eddie saw a dust trail heading into the shimmering distance. “Told you you wouldn’t catch her.”

  “My hovercraft can do forty knots over any terrain,” Khaleel told him smugly, nodding toward the giant vehicle. “Can your truck do that?”

  “Maybe not, but can yours fit down a twenty-foot-wide ravine?”

  “It won’t need to,” Diamondback drawled. “We got some other toys.”

  Shaban gave an order, and the troopers raced for the Zubr. “We can still catch her,” he told the others, gesturing for them to follow. A cruel, crooked smile for Eddie. “I’ll make sure you have a good view.”

  They started toward the hovercraft, Diamondback prodding Eddie along with his revolver. They were about three-quarters of the way there when the roar of engines echoed from inside it. A pair of small vehicles exploded from the Zubr’s hold and flew down the ramp, landing in a spray of sand and snarling off in pursuit of the Land Rover. Eddie recognized them as Light Strike Vehicles—militarized dune buggies, little more than an open frame with four wheels, a powerful engine … and a machine gun, mounted on a turret above the driver. They weren’t attractive, or comfortable—but there was one thing he knew they definitely were, even over desert sand: fast.

  Much faster than the Defender.

  “The chase begins,” Shaban proclaimed. He gave Eddie another nasty smile. “A shame it won’t be a long one.”

  They ascended the ramp. The Zubr’s hold was stark and utterly utilitarian, a metal box cavernous enough to accommodate three battle tanks or more than three hundred fully equipped soldiers. At the moment, it was home to several dirty yellow excavators and earthmovers, as well as another dune buggy and pallets of equipment and supplies for desert operations. Eddie guessed the Osirian Temple had expected to do a lot more digging to find the pyramid.

  Khaleel went to a control panel and called the bridge on a telephone handset. He issued a command. A few seconds later, a rising turbine whine echoed through the space as the Zubr’s main engines started, followed by louder buzzing rasps from the four massive lift fans behind the hold’s long bulkheads. The vessel wallowed as air was pumped into the skirt, lifting the hulking vehicle off the ground amid a swirling cloud of sand.

  Khaleel operated a control to raise the ramp. Hydraulics skirled, the metal wedge slamming shut with a reverberating bang. The wind died away, but if anything the noise became louder as the engines came to full power.

  Diamondback scaled the ladder in the hold’s center and waited for Eddie to follow him up to the cramped superstructure. At the top, the American shoved him against a wall, pulling his arms behind his back. Eddie grunted at the pain from the bullet wound.

  “Shoulda done this in the pyramid,” Diamondback drawled as he fastened his wrists together with a plastic zip-tie. “You’d have had a hard time gettin’ across that rope over the pit, but I woulda loved to watch you try.”

  He pushed him toward a door. Eddie surreptitiously tested his restraints. They were too tight for him to slip loose, the plastic teeth digging into his skin. He needed to find another way to get free.

  If there was one.

  “Uh-oh,” said Macy, looking through the Land Rover’s rear window. “Dune buggy attack!”

  Nina checked the mirror and saw two black shapes pounding through the desert after them. It only took a moment to see that they were gaining. Fast. She searched ahead for anything that might help. The desolate plain was devoid of anything but rippling sand dunes, the ravine still miles distant.

  She glanced at the equipment webbing on the case. A knife and two grenades. Eddie could probably have MacGyvered
some ingenious weapon out of them, but since she doubted the pursuing drivers would let her get within stabbing range, she was left with just throwing the grenades. And if they saw her doing so, to escape they only had to turn away …

  The idea that came to her was so simple it seemed almost ridiculous. But it was their only hope.

  If she could pull it off.

  She scanned the desert again, more urgently. She needed a big enough dune—

  Macy shrieked and ducked as a line of bullets raked across the sand, kicking up dusty little geysers as they homed in on the Land Rover. Nina slid low in her seat, turning the wheel—but not quickly enough. The rear window shattered and holes ripped open in the Defender’s aluminum sides.

  Another crackle of gunfire as the second gunner joined in. Burning orange lines of tracer fire streaked past as Nina changed direction again. She knew she couldn’t stay out of their sights for long—

  More metal shredded as another burst of bullets stabbed through the bodywork. The windshield cracked, the window beside Nina blowing out as a tracer round seared through the cabin. Two inches lower and it would have hit her in the head.

  She spun the wheel, the Land Rover almost tipping over as it slewed through the sand. A pair of holes exploded in the back of the center seat just above the case. Macy screamed.

  Nina straightened out, the LSVs turning to follow. She looked ahead. There was a dune, a long, languid zigzag with an angular wind-carved ridge running along it. Perfect—if they could reach it …

  Mirror. One of the buggies was about two hundred yards directly behind, following their tracks. “Take the wheel!” Nina shouted.

  Macy stared in disbelief. “What?”

  “Take over, drive!” She gestured for her to slide across.

  Macy did so. “What are you doing?”

  Nina jammed her left foot on the accelerator and hoisted herself up to climb over Macy. She saw in the mirror that the nearer LSV was accelerating, closing the gap to get an unmissable shot. The other buggy stopped firing so as not to hit its comrade. “Just put your foot on the gas and grab the wheel,” she said. Macy complied, awkwardly squeezing under her. “I’ve got an idea!”

  In the Zubr’s weapons room, Eddie looked over the weapons officer’s shoulder to watch the chase playing out on the monitor screens.

  A chase that was almost over. The Zubr’s fire-control computers displayed the range, bearing, and speed of all three vehicles beside the cursors tracking them, and the distance in meters of the lead LSV was rapidly catching up to that of Nina’s Land Rover.

  Shaban, beside him, banged a fist on a console as the lead buggy fired again. “The driver!” he shouted at the weapons officer. “Tell them to aim for the driver! We can’t risk hitting the jar!”

  The seated man relayed the order. “Is the box bulletproof?” Hamdi asked nervously.

  “Against a handgun bullet, it should be,” Khaleel told him. “A machine gun … I don’t know.”

  “You’ll have to check it when we recover it, Hamdi,” said Shaban. A dismissive glance at Berkeley. “Dr. Berkeley’s hands are too shaky, I think.”

  Eddie looked at Berkeley, who was in a corner, pale and sickened. “Having second thoughts, are you?” he said coldly. “Not such a laugh when it’s someone you know who’s getting shot at. Still, hey, least you’re getting paid!”

  “Keep your mouth shut,” said Diamondback, shoving him against a console.

  On the screen, the Land Rover drove up a dune, the LSV closing with the gunner taking careful aim …

  Nina climbed into the back of the Land Rover, taking one of the grenades with her. “Go straight!” she ordered Macy as she scrambled to the rear door. “Tell me just before we reach the top.”

  “What are you doing?” Macy demanded, looking back—and seeing the buggy quickly gaining as the Defender slowed on the incline. She planted both feet on the accelerator.

  “Just tell me!” Nina peered through the broken rear window. The first LSV was still roaring along in their tracks, less than 300 feet behind, 250 …

  She gripped the door handle for support, her other thumb through the ring attached to the grenade’s pin. “Come on, come on,” she said, watching the dune buggy close the gap. It was near enough for her to make out the driver’s and gunner’s faces, leering expectantly as they prepared for the kill. “Come on—”

  “We’re at the top!” Macy cried.

  Nina jerked her thumb, pulling out the pin—and the spring-loaded spoon popped off the grenade, arming its fuse.

  She hoped it was the five-second type …

  The Land Rover lurched, reaching the top of the dune and plowing through its ridge. The LSV dropped out of sight behind the crest.

  Nina reached through the broken window—and dropped the grenade into the Land Rover’s tracks.

  She rolled down the cargo bed to hit the seat backs as the 4 × 4 slithered downhill, picking up speed. She didn’t know if the rear door would protect her, but it was all she had …

  The LSV burst over the crest of the dune, engine howling—and landed right on top of the grenade as it exploded.

  The buggy was launched back into the air, flipping end-over-end amid an eruption of grit and razor-sharp shrapnel. It hit the ground upside down, driving the gun turret and its lacerated occupant into the sand like a tent peg.

  Nina uncovered her ears and looked back. The LSV was a burning wreck—but the second buggy was still very much in the game, vaulting over the top of the dune.

  And her trick wouldn’t work twice.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Shaban stared at the pillar of smoke rising on the monitor. “What happened? What was that?”

  “That,” said Eddie, grinning, “was my wife.”

  The Egyptian’s face tightened, and he punched Eddie in the stomach. “Go after them!” he yelled to the pilots in the bridge, before turning back to the weapons officer. “Tell them to aim only at the driver. If they destroy the jar, I’ll kill them myself!” The officer, glad that he worked for Khaleel and not Shaban, relayed the instructions.

  Everyone lurched as the hovercraft turned to follow the Land Rover. “Full speed!” Shaban bellowed. “Catch them!”

  Climbing back into the front seats, Nina saw the LSV rapidly gaining, following a parallel course. The buggy had a clear shot—but something was staying the gunner’s finger. “They’re not shooting.”

  “You make that sound like a bad thing,” Macy complained.

  “It will be in a minute,” she realized. “They’re trying to get closer—so they won’t just be shooting at the truck, they’ll be shooting at us!”

  “Oh, great! I love the personal touch!”

  Nina spotted the hovercraft powering after them, but ignored it. There was a much closer threat. The LSV drew level, machine gun at the ready as it angled toward them, narrowing the gap—

  The Land Rover and the LSV were side by side on the targeting monitor. The weapons operator nudged a joystick. The cursor over Nina and Macy’s vehicle turned red, the radar automatically tracking the 4 × 4.

  Eddie forced himself to look away, at the room’s other occupants. Shaban’s eyes were fixed on the monitor with eager anticipation, while Diamondback’s expression suggested that he was watching a game of American football, waiting for his team’s quarterback to break through the lines and score a touchdown. Hamdi appeared pensive, and Berkeley’s head was turned, as if he was unwilling to observe the results of his choice of sides. Khaleel and the weapons officer both watched with professional detachment.

  Which meant … nobody was watching him.

  Because his hands were secured behind his back, the others didn’t consider him a threat—and the weapons room’s cramped confines had forced Diamondback to lower his gun as everyone crowded around the monitors.

  He glanced sidelong once more at Diamondback before making his move—

  No matter what Macy did, the Land Rover wasn’t quick or agile enough to escape the Light S
trike Vehicle. The buggy was less than a hundred feet away, still closing, the gunner lining up the M60 machine gun on the driver …

  The LSV’s gunner was a silhouette against the desert on the screen. He took aim, body language shifting as he prepared to fire—

  Eddie clenched his hands together—and shoved himself backward against Diamondback, slamming his fists into the American’s groin.

  Before anyone else could react, he smashed a knee into the side of the weapons officer’s head, bowling him from his chair. He whipped around and pushed the joystick with his bound hands—then spun back and banged his forehead down on one set of buttons.

  The firing controls for the Zubr’s AK-630 Gatling guns.

  He had switched the targeting cursor from the Land Rover to the LSV when he hit the joystick—and now both the Dalek-like turrets on the broad main deck obediently locked on to their new prey.

  And fired.

  Even inside the windowless weapons room the noise of the guns was almost painful, an earsplitting chain-saw rasp as both six-barreled weapons spat out more than eighty 30mm explosive shells every second. The storm of metal didn’t merely wreck the LSV—it obliterated it, the buggy and its occupants shredded as the AK-630s kept blasting, waiting for human confirmation that their target had been destroyed.

  It took several seconds to arrive as Eddie kicked and struggled, trying to keep the room in chaos for as long as possible. Diamondback finally flung him against a console, cracking his head on the metal. The guns’ piercing buzz stopped as the dazed weapons officer slapped a hand on the controls.

  Diamondback pulled Eddie upright, shoving his revolver under his chin—only to jerk it away as Shaban smashed several punches into the defenseless Englishman’s face, shrieking with frustrated fury. He delivered a final blow to Eddie’s stomach, then threw him through the doorway to collapse on the bridge’s deck.