“They’re going to kill Eddie!” Nina shouted at Assad. “Do something!” The Egyptian was trapped between his urge to act and the restrictions of his orders, fumbling with his phone. “Fuck!” Frustrated, angry, and afraid, she ran to the van’s doors and looked at the castle.
The drawbridge was still lowered.
Macy called after her as she jumped down, but Nina ignored her and hurried to the nearer of the team’s Mitsubishi Shoguns. The big 4 × 4 was fully equipped for off-road work with heavy-duty tires, raised suspension, a winch, and a bullbar jutting from the front. Both doors on the driver’s side were open, and one of the ASPS was perched on the side of the driving seat with his feet on the ground as he smoked a cigarette, waiting for the call to action.
Nina delivered it in a way he hadn’t been expecting. “Hey!”
He looked up—and she punched him, knocking his head back against the door frame. He was more shocked than hurt, but his confusion was enough to enable Nina to pull him from the vehicle. The other ASPS nearby reacted in surprise.
She jumped into the cab and started the engine, slamming the Mitsubishi into gear.
Macy dived through the open rear door. “Wait!”
“Get out, Macy!” Nina yelled as she swerved the 4 × 4 round the van. Assad shouted for her to stop as they passed.
“I’m going with you!”
“No, you’re not—you could get killed!”
“I’m getting used to it! Besides …” Nina flinched as the barrel of a large gun was poked between the front seats. “This might be handy.”
“That’s not even a proper gun!” The odd-looking weapon was an Arwen 37, a fat-barreled riot gun loaded with five tear gas cartridges in its bulky rotary magazine.
Macy withdrew the Arwen. “Well, if you want a different one, you’ll have to turn around!”
That wasn’t going to happen. The Shogun tore down the lakeside road. Nina could hear what was happening inside the temple through her headset. Eddie was still alive, she could tell from the swearing.
But another voice chilled her to the bone. Shaban.
“I pay homage to you, O Ra …”
She pushed the accelerator down harder.
Grant’s gaze flicked desperately between Eddie and Shaban as the cult leader continued his murderous prayer. His followers chanted the dark god’s name as he spoke, eagerly awaiting the deadly climax.
Most of the guards had returned to the pit, but four still held Eddie on the sacrificial block. “Oi! Scarface!” he shouted. “Does all this really make up for having your knob burned off?”
Shaban’s only response was a furious twitch, but one guard smashed his elbow down on Eddie’s stomach. The Englishman let out a choked gasp of pain.
“In blood, I show my worth …”
The Mitsubishi reached the spur road, Nina skidding it around the corner in a shower of loose gravel. Macy yelped as she slithered across the bench seat.
“Uh-oh,” said Nina. The gatehouse at the lake’s edge lay ahead … and the drawbridge had just started to rise. Her approach had been spotted.
Macy sat up. “We’re not gonna make it!”
“We’ve got to make it,” Nina told her grimly. Her foot was back down to the floor as they hurtled along the short road. The drawbridge’s two halves parted, rising a foot, two …
She heard Shaban’s prayer continuing over the growl of the engine and Macy’s panicked pleas to stop. “I am Set, lord of the desert, master of darkness, the god of death!”
Grant’s hands shook as he held the knife over Eddie. He tried to back away—and felt a gun held by another guard press against his spine.
Shaban fixed him with a malevolent stare. “I have slain the coward Osiris, and now in blood I take dominion over all things!”
“We’re gonna crash!” Macy squealed.
Nina gripped the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the drawbridge. The nearer section was at a twenty-five-degree angle, and still rising.
She didn’t slow.
The Mitsubishi hit the drawbridge with a bone-jarring crash—and continued up it. It shot off the end, clearing the widening gap and smashing down on the far side with an impact that shattered two of the side windows. Macy screamed.
The front air bags exploded from their compartments, kicking Nina painfully back into her seat—but she saw the pyramid ahead and aimed straight at it.
Shaban’s voice rang in her ears. “I am Set! Set! Set!”
“And match!” Nina cried—
The Shogun plowed through the pyramid’s glass wall.
THIRTY-ONE
Eddie stared up at Grant. He could tell from his eyes that the actor wasn’t going to drive the knife into his chest. Which was good.
But it was also bad, because it meant Shaban’s followers would kill them both.
And pinned to the table, hands tied behind his back, there was nothing he could do to stop it—
Boom!
Everyone on the stage spun at the noise—and, with a colossal crash of exploding glass, the Mitsubishi careered through the double doors.
Heading straight for the altar.
Lorenz tackled Shaban out of the truck’s path. Broma rolled the other way. The guards holding Eddie scattered.
The Shogun skidded, swerving to miss the altar—but it couldn’t stop in time to avoid colliding with one of the statues. The chrome-plated figure rocked as the 4 × 4 hefty bullbar smashed a chunk out of its legs, almost toppling into the pit … then tipped back and fell. The marble floor was smashed under its weight—as was the scientist. The canister spun away.
The fallen statue rolled and demolished the altar as Eddie flung himself clear, knocking the stunned Grant with him. It continued over the end of the stage, flattening another guard—then the stairway collapsed beneath it, sending the rest of the men flying. Cultists screamed and scrambled backward to escape being crushed.
Eddie sat up, expecting to see one of the ASPS inside the battered Shogun—and was startled, but delighted, to find Nina at the wheel instead. “That’s what I call gatecrashing!” he called.
“Eddie, come on!” she shouted back—only for her expression to change to alarm. “Look out!”
Broma was pointing a gun at him—
A flat thump came from the 4 × 4—and something streaked across the stage to hit Broma’s chest with a crack that broke his sternum. He fell backward into the pit as the object that had injured him bounced back and clanked across the marble, streaming white smoke.
Only it wasn’t just smoke. Eddie felt a stinging, burning sensation in his eyes and nose. Tear gas. He looked back at the Shogun to see Macy hefting an Arwen 37 out of the broken window.
“Hold your breath!” Eddie warned. “Grant, cut me loose!”
The bewildered Grant remembered that he was holding a knife. He sawed at the zip-tie with the bloodied blade until it snapped. Eddie shook off the plastic restraint and stood. The tear gas was swirling across the stage, thick clumps of white mist obscuring his view, but he could make out Shaban and Lorenz still on the floor by one of the statues.
He checked the pit. With the stairs destroyed the cultists couldn’t reach the stage directly, but there was another way out—
“Shit!” Some of Shaban’s followers had already come to the same conclusion and were heading for the stairs at the temple’s opposite end. If they got out, he and the others would be massively outnumbered, and probably torn to pieces by the mob.
He ran to the truck. “Gimme that,” he said to Macy, snatching the Arwen from her and firing the remaining four canisters across the pit at the other set of stairs. The crowd immediately turned back, coughing and clutching at their faces as they tried to escape the searing vapor.
“Get in!” Nina shouted from the 4 × 4.
“No, you get out!” he countered. “That gas won’t stop ’em for long—we’ve got to keep them trapped down there!”
“How?”
“With the truck.”
??
?But we need it to get out of here!”
“Did they raise the drawbridge?”
“Yes, but—”
“Then we won’t have time to lower it before that lot come after us like bloody zombies! Come on, shift! You too, Macy!”
Macy climbed out of his side of the Mitsubishi, Nina the other, as Eddie leaned across the passenger seat. “This worked for Shaban, hope it works for us,” he muttered as he put the Mitsubishi in drive—and used the empty riot gun to jam down the accelerator.
The 4 × 4 roared toward the broken stairs as Eddie rolled backward out of it. He thumped down painfully on debris from the ruined altar, skidding across the marble—
Grant dived and grabbed his arm just before he slithered into the pit, his legs dangling over the edge.
The cultists scattered screaming as the Mitsubishi smashed down to their level. Through some collective obedience the aisle was still more or less clear, though a couple of green-blazered goons were slammed aside as the truck, its suspension grinding, charged along the pit.
It disappeared into the billowing cloud of tear gas—
Another huge crash of breaking glass and steel echoed around the chamber as the 4 × 4 hit the other flight of stairs, getting halfway up them and leaping out of the miasma like a whale breaching the ocean surface before they collapsed beneath it.
Eddie scrambled back onto the stage. “Thanks, mate,” he told Grant. With both staircases destroyed, the cultists were trapped in the pit. “So how do you like real action?”
Grant was still shaken. “I, uh … I prefer the Hollywood version.”
“Let’s get you back to it, then. Come on.”
They rounded the broken altar. The tear gas from the first canister was still spreading, forcing Nina to retreat toward them. Eddie looked around in alarm. “Where’s Macy?”
Nina’s eyes watered as the stinging vapor attacked her mucous membranes. “In there,” she gasped, pointing into the wafting mass.
“Macy! Can you hear me?” He heard a feminine cough from somewhere in the cloud. “Okay, we’ve got to go through it. Hold your breath, keep your eyes and nose covered, and grab hold of me.” He held out his hands.
Grant was also suffering the effects of the pungent chemicals, face screwed up in discomfort. “Aren’t you feeling this?” the actor asked Eddie as he and Nina took hold of him.
“Nah, this is pretty weak—the SAS chucks you in rooms full of way worse stuff in training. You get used to it, like vindaloo. Okay, ready?” They both nodded, holding their noses. “Go!”
He rushed into the cloud, pulling Nina and Grant behind him. His eyes immediately started streaming, and his exposed skin felt as though it were being jabbed by hot needles—his training had made him more resistant than most to the effects of tear gas, but not immune, and it was several years since he had last undergone the experience. But he kept going until they emerged into clearer air on the other side.
Where was Macy?
The fog’s boundary was uneven, clumps still hanging stubbornly despite the light breeze coming through the smashed doors. Another cough, and he spotted a half-shrouded shape. “Macy! Over here, c’mon!” He shook off Grant and Nina and started toward her.
A blink to clear stinging tears from his eyes—
There were now two shapes in the mist.
“Macy!”
Too late.
The other figure resolved itself into Shaban. He grabbed Macy from behind, pressing a gun to her head to use her as a human shield—then realized his opponents were unarmed—
Nina pulled Grant behind one of the remaining statues as Eddie dived for the only cover he could reach—the cloud of tear gas. A bullet carved a vortex through the swirling mist just above him as he rolled deeper into the dense fog.
Losing sight of him, Shaban blasted two more shots at Nina and Grant, smacking chunks out of the statue. Then he shoved the gun against Macy’s head again, making her scream as the hot metal burned her, and dragged her backward.
“Lorenz!” he shouted. “Get the canister!”
Nina risked a quick glance out from behind the statue, and saw the stainless-steel container lying on its side across the stage. Lorenz picked it up and looked to Shaban for orders.
“Get to the helicopter!” the Egyptian shouted as he retreated, hauling the struggling Macy with him.
Eddie burst from the cloud to take cover behind the statue nearest Shaban and his lackey. Shaban fired again, the bullet twanging off the chromed figure. “If you follow, I’ll kill her!” he warned as he reached the side exit. Lorenz opened the door, and they backed through.
Eddie let out a hacking cough. “Jesus!” he wheezed, wiping his eyes. “They’ve changed the bloody formula since I last did a gas drill!”
Nina hurried to him, Grant behind her. “Now what’re we gonna do?”
“Get him somewhere safe, for a start,” said Eddie, nodding at the actor. “Then get that drawbridge down so Assad and his lads can come in.”
“What about you?”
“I’m going to get Macy.” The breeze had wafted the gas far enough down the stage for him to spot something among the debris: a gun, dropped by one of the guards. He collected it—then, to Nina’s surprise, handed it to her. “Shoot anything green.”
“Why aren’t you taking it?” she asked.
“ ’Cause there might still be guards at the gate.”
“I’m not going to the gate—I’m going with you.”
“No, you need to look after Grant.”
Grant looked offended. “Hey, I can take care of myself, man.”
“You ever fired a real gun?” Eddie demanded.
“Yeah.”
“At a person?”
“No.” His eyebrows shot up. “Wait, she has?”
“Way too often,” said Nina. “Look, Eddie, you—”
“There isn’t time to fucking argue,” Eddie snapped, running after Shaban. “Just get that bridge down!” He reached the exit and was about to go through when he looked back. “Oh, and thanks for rescuing me! Now bugger off!”
“Anytime,” Nina said with a smile. She turned to Grant. “Okay, come on.” They ran for the doors.
“You’ve really shot people?”
“Afraid so. Transfixed a guy with a sword once, too.”
“Wow.” They entered a small lobby, floor littered with broken glass from the Mitsubishi’s entrance. Through the gaping hole in the outer wall the drawbridge was visible, still raised. “Has anyone optioned your life story? It’d make a great movie!”
“Yeah, but who’d play me?” Nina looked outside. Nobody in sight. “Let’s get you out of here—then I can go after my husband!”
The side exit led to a corridor along the pyramid’s eastern base. Eddie ran down it to the lobby through which he had entered the building.
No sign of Shaban, Lorenz, or Macy. Or anyone else—Shaban’s followers had been in the temple to hear their godhead’s rant, and were still trapped in the pit.
He crossed the lobby. The outer doors slid open as he approached, the sound of a helicopter’s engine reaching him. It was nearing takeoff speed. And as soon as the chopper was clear of the castle, Macy would become deadweight—literally.
A quick glance round the door frame revealed the helicopter, a sleek six-passenger Eurocopter EC130, on the pad in one corner of the courtyard. Lorenz was in the front passenger seat beside the pilot, Shaban and Macy behind them. A glint of metal told Eddie that Lorenz had the gun; his door was ajar so he could shoot at anyone trying to approach.
He needed to get around to the pilot’s side to block his aim. If he ran fast enough, he could make it before the aircraft took off—assuming Lorenz wasn’t a crack shot.
He took a deep breath … and ran.
Nina and Grant reached the gatehouse. Part of the castle’s structure had been extended by a booth with mirrored windows: a security station. The drawbridge controls were almost certainly inside.
Nina reached the
door first and flung it open—just as the sound of echoing gunfire reached her from the far side of the pyramid. She instinctively looked back. Eddie—
A noise inside the booth. Nina whirled to see a guard drawing a gun. She jumped backward—and collided with Grant as he tried to follow her inside. He lurched clear, but she stumbled and fell on her back. The gun was jolted from her hand.
The guard ran toward her. She tried to get up, but he was already upon her, pointing his gun down at her head—
A sudden blur of motion, and the automatic flew into the air as Grant leapt up and delivered a high kick to the man’s hand. He landed straddling Nina, twisting to slam an elbow into the guard’s chest and following it by backhanding him in the face. The man staggered.
Grant grinned at Nina. “Krav Maga, man! Learned those moves for a movie.”
She wasn’t impressed. “This isn’t a movie—and he’s not down!”
“Huh?” He looked around—and saw the guard still standing, a hand to his aching nose and an expression of rising anger on his face. “But that always works on the set!”
“Because they’re stuntmen, idiot—aah!” Nina scrambled out of the way as the enraged guard tackled Grant to the ground and clamped his hands around the actor’s throat.
Another shot cracked across the courtyard, one of the pyramid’s glass panels shattering behind Eddie as he sprinted to pass in front of the helicopter. Lorenz, already leaning from the cockpit to track him, would in moments be forced either to jump out or to shoot through the windshield to maintain a line of fire—and with the chopper almost at takeoff speed, both options were unlikely.
Which meant he would take one last shot—
Eddie threw himself into a forward roll as the Dutchman fired again, the bullet kicking up splinters from a flagstone. Without pause he leapt back to his feet and continued running, angling back around to the pilot’s side …
The helicopter left the ground.
He pushed harder, squinting into the blasting wind. The aircraft ascended at full power, its skids already six feet off the ground in less than a second, rocketing skyward—