The Covenant of Genesis_A Novel
Nina curled up tighter, trying to squeeze as deep into the shadows as she could. The gunfire from outside had stopped, and she had overheard fragments of messages over the walkie-talkie of one of the men above; the frustration in Zamal’s voice suggested that Chase and Sophia had gotten away, at least temporarily.
But that didn’t help her. She couldn’t even think about looking for a way down until the Covenant team left—and, if anything, more of them seemed to be arriving. She heard a faint crunch of glass overhead: someone else coming through the window. He spoke in German, and she recognized the voice. Vogler. She knew enough of the language to tell that their efforts to find something had been unsuccessful—then felt a cold shock at the sound of her own name.
They were looking for her.
Ribbsley’s voice echoed across the shaft. “What are you doing over there? We need to search the library—let Zamal and Hammerstein go after them!”
“Only Chase and Blackwood got out of the temple,” said Vogler, switching to English to address the professor. “But I am looking at three sets of footprints. Either Dr. Wilde doubled back into the library … or she is still in here.”
Fear rose in Nina as a flashlight beam lanced down, barely missing her hiding place. “She did not fall to the ground,” Vogler continued, the beam playing over the broken counterpoise. “But part of the statue did. I wonder …”
Nina heard ice cracking as he stepped right to the edge of the statue’s shoulders, pieces falling past her. The flashlight beam slowly panned across the giant figure’s chest, down to its waist, creeping closer to her as Vogler leaned out farther …
It touched her leg.
She tried to shrink away, but there was no more room.
“There you are.”
She let out a terrified breath as more pieces of ice fell past: Vogler moving across to the statue’s outstretched arm. For a moment she held on to the hope that he might slip and fall just as she had, but he kept his footing, sliding down to brace himself in the crook of the elbow. He looked across at her. “You do not look comfortable there, Dr. Wilde.”
“How about we swap places?” she said, trying to mask her terror.
Footsteps echoed through the temple below: Zamal and his men entering. He looked up at the statue, impressed despite himself, before noticing Vogler. “What are you doing up there?”
“I thought you were going after Chase and Blackwood,” Vogler said.
“The Jew and his men are closer. They—” Zamal stopped as he realized Vogler was not the only person on the statue. “You found her!”
“Yes, I did. And maybe we would have found Chase and Blackwood as well if you had gone to help Hammerstein.”
Zamal ignored the rebuke. “What are you waiting for? Kill her!”
“Yes,” said Ribbsley, coming through the window. “If you’ve found her, then what’s the delay?” A bitter tone: “You certainly didn’t hesitate to say you’d kill Sophia.”
Vogler gave him a stern look. “Perhaps I am not in a hurry to kill an unarmed and helpless woman.”
“Then perhaps,” Zamal sneered, “you are in the wrong profession.” He raised his rifle. “If you do not, I will.”
“Very well,” said Vogler, shaking his head. He unslung his rifle. “I am sorry, Dr. Wilde. Unlike certain members of the Covenant, I do not take any joy in this. But it has to be done.”
“You murder people just to protect your secret,” Nina said accusingly. “I don’t think God would approve.”
“We are a necessary evil,” Vogler replied, almost sorrowfully. “We accept the burden of our sins—and will be held accountable for them in time.” He raised the weapon.
“It’s a hell of a secret, though, isn’t it?” The words came out more rapidly as Nina’s fear rose, but she refused to surrender to it. “The secret of Eden!”
Vogler froze. Below, Zamal stared up at her in surprise.
“Oh, yeah!” she shouted, sensing that something had changed. “Yeah, I know what your secret is! Whaddya think of that, huh? I know you’re looking for the Garden of Eden!”
There was silence in the temple for a moment. Then Ribbsley spoke, his voice tinged with mocking sarcasm. “Oh dear, Dr. Wilde. Oh dear, oh dear. That was about the worst possible thing you could have said. Now they have to kill you.”
“Oh.” Nina’s faint sense of hope melted away to nothing as she saw Vogler’s expression, which confirmed Ribbsley’s words. “Well, that … sucks.”
He took aim—
“But I know how to find the Garden of Eden!” she cried as she shut her eyes tightly, expecting the only response to be a gunshot, searing pain, then nothing …
Silence.
She cautiously opened one eye to see Vogler still aiming the gun at her but now looking thoughtful.
“Just shoot her!” Zamal shouted.
“Wait,” Vogler ordered. He fixed Nina with an intense gaze, watching for any hint of deceit. “Explain.”
Her mouth had gone dry. “There’s—there’s a map,” she said. “Up there, past the library. It shows the history of the Veteres, how they expanded across the world. But it won’t help you find Eden. We destroyed that part of it.”
“Well, then, you’re wasting our time,” said Ribbsley. “Vogler, get on with it.”
“I memorized it. I know where it is.” Nina stared back at Vogler, hoping her defiance would camouflage her bluff. “So do Eddie and Sophia. If they get away—when they get away—they’ll find it. They’ll reveal it to the world.”
“They’ve got no chance of getting away,” said another voice. Callum. The white-haired man had also climbed onto the statue.
“Y’know, people have said that before about Eddie. And you know what? They’ve always been wrong.”
“Not this time.”
But Vogler, at least, appeared unsure. “Can we take that risk? We should find out what she knows.”
“No,” Zamal said, “we should just kill her!” He raised his rifle.
Vogler held up one hand. “This is a decision for the Triumvirate.”
Zamal’s face flushed with rage. “What?”
“Chase and Blackwood can’t get away,” Callum added. “So kill her.”
“I’ve called for a decision by the Triumvirate,” Vogler said firmly. “Procedure demands that a vote must be taken. I will abide by the decision—but until it has been made, we will keep her alive.”
Zamal made an angry spitting sound. “You’re wasting time,” said Callum.
“It is my time to waste, not yours.” Vogler took out his radio. “Hammerstein, this is Vogler. I have called a vote of the Triumvirate; I need you to meet us.”
“I’m busy right now” came the sarcastic response, the Israeli sounding as though he was running. “Blackwood and Chase just went into a building. We’re going after them.”
“Then call me as soon as they are dead. Out.” Vogler turned to the men above. “Lower a rope.”
Nina could do nothing but wait for them to capture her.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Chase and Sophia hurried across a bridge over the ice-filled hypogeum. Sophia was still in pain, but sheer adrenaline had forced her pace as the Covenant soldier gained on them. She glanced back. “I can’t see him.”
“He’ll see us in a sec,” Chase said grimly. The elevated walkways and guard posts would give them some cover, but their tracks would give them away, crushed and cracked ice marking their footsteps.
Unless they could find somewhere without ice. The deeper they went into the hypogeum, the more water spattered down where the rising steam was melting the cavern’s ceiling. It had worsened since they’d come through earlier, the drizzle now in places a full shower. And occasional bangs told Chase it wasn’t just water coming down—chunks of ice were also falling. Small now, but they would only get bigger as more of the ice sheet was eaten away.
They reached an intersection—and Chase saw footprints. Three sets: his, Sophia’s, and Nina’s. “We?
??ve been this way before.”
“Is that good?”
“Hopefully.” He got his bearings and went left, looking back.
A flash of white among the gray and blue—the soldier entering the hypogeum—
“Down!” said Chase, pulling Sophia with him as he dropped. A shot smacked against the wall beside him; another sizzled just above his head. But the walls were high enough to provide protection. A third shot hit stone; then Chase heard the distant crunch of ice as the soldier ran toward them.
They reached the guard post, the gloomy interior just as Chase remembered—including the object hanging on the wall. “Okay, you crawl along there and keep your head down,” he said, indicating another exit as he released Sophia.
She muffled a grunt, still clutching her side. “What are you going to do?”
He pulled down the coiled whip, the ice coating it crackling as it broke loose. “Live out my Indiana Jones fantasies.”
“What, you want to be a grumpy pensioner?”
“Just get going,” Chase said, gripping the whip’s handle with one hand as he used the other to strip off the remaining ice. With luck, the cold of the lake would have stopped the leather from rotting too badly.
He backed toward the exit as Sophia crawled through it. The running footsteps came closer … then slowed to a cautious walk as the Covenant trooper approached the guardhouse. A light flicked on, the small but powerful spotlight mounted under the sights of his sleek, ultramodern TAR-21 assault rifle probing the shadows.
Chase tensed as the man approached. The circle of light dropped to the floor, fixing on the bootprints in the ice. It moved one way, revealed that there were no more tracks in that direction, returned. Chase slowly drew back his arm, the whip creaking. The soldier was moving to the far side of the door to get the best viewing—and firing—angle into the building.
Chase would have only a moment to react when he came into view …
Another footstep, ice squeaking as it took the man’s weight. He was just outside. The spotlight beam sliced across the interior, getting closer to Chase. Another step. Closer …
The gun came into sight, the intense light flashing into Chase’s eyes—
The whip lashed out, its tip looping around the rifle’s barrel. Chase was almost as surprised as the soldier that it had worked—but he was quicker to react, yanking back as hard as he could and tearing the gun from the other man’s hands. It flew across the room, slipping free of the whip and sliding over the icy floor, away from both men.
Chase snapped back his arm for another strike, but the soldier was already reaching for his sidearm. Chase dropped the whip and charged at him.
The man pulled out the gun—just as Chase made a diving tackle and slammed him viciously against the wall. The pistol spun away. Chase punched him hard in the stomach, but the layers of cold-weather padding absorbed the blow.
He struck at the man’s exposed head—only to take a blow himself, the soldier karate-chopping his shoulder. He reeled back—
And slipped. Before he could recover his balance, the Covenant soldier hit him in the chest. His coat deadened the impact, but it was enough to pitch him on to his back.
The soldier raised a foot high to stamp his spiked boot down hard on Chase’s face—
A bright light flashed across the room and locked onto the trooper’s crotch.
Which exploded, splattering Chase with blood as Sophia fired a single shot from the TAR-21 into the man’s groin. He staggered backward, screeching horribly. Sophia made a disgusted face—not at the blood, but at the noise—before firing a second shot between his eyes. At such close range, the force was enough to blow out the back of his skull, his hood bulging obscenely before he collapsed.
Wiping blood from his face, Chase looked up at Sophia. The rifle was still in her hands, her expression unreadable. He held his breath. Then—
She turned the weapon around, presenting it to him. “As I said, my chances of survival are much higher with you than without you. Now get up, Eddie. His friends will be along any minute.”
Chase got up and snatched the TAR-21 from her. “For fuck’s sake, Sophia! You shot him in the balls!”
“What are you complaining about? It did the trick.”
“Shooting him in the chest would have been quicker! Why didn’t you do that?”
Sophia gave him a feline smile. “Curiosity.”
“Sadism, more like.” He noticed the pistol lying by the entrance and stepped over the body to pick it up, shoving it into a pocket.
And he saw something else: more men in white running across the hypogeum, having heard the shots.
Chase whipped the rifle up and fixed the glowing red dot at the center of the circular sight on the nearest man. He squeezed the trigger twice, using the first shot to judge the recoil of the unfamiliar weapon before instinctively compensating and adjusting his aim with the second. Another red dot, this one dark, burst open in his target’s chest. The trooper fell. The man behind him realized their prey was no longer defenseless and tried to drop behind the castellations, but Chase blasted off another three quick shots, the last catching him bloodily in the forehead.
But more men were following them, rapidly finding cover behind the stonework.
Chase ducked back into the guardhouse. “Go that way,” he said, pointing at the doorway opposite. “Go on, go!” As Sophia set off he stopped by the body, looking for extra magazines, but saw none. They were probably in the dead man’s pack, and he didn’t have time to search. Instead, he ran after Sophia, water dripping onto him from high above as he left the shelter.
Hammerstein looked at the two dead men, a twinge of fury twisting his lips. He had known them for years, trained them, commanded them on numerous missions for the Covenant … and now they were gone, cut down by a surprise ambush. Which meant that his third man was also dead—he would never have allowed his weapon to be taken as long as there was life in his body.
He briefly raised his head above the parapet, seeing that Chase had retreated, then turned to the two remaining members of his squad—like their late comrades, former members of the Israeli Special Forces or the Mossad, true believers in the Covenant’s cause. And like Hammerstein himself, they would want vengeance. An eye for an eye.
But with caution. They had underestimated Chase; he might have left active military service some years earlier, but he was clearly not out of practice.
Hammerstein spat out the stub of his cigar and raised his rifle, like those of his men a menacing black Tavor … but with an extra attachment. Beneath the barrel was the broad tube of an M203 40mm grenade launcher. He loaded it, pulling back the sliding barrel to cock it with a clack. “I want them dead,” he hissed.
Chase quickly caught up with Sophia. “Did you get them?” she asked.
“Got two, but there’s at least three more. How’s your side?”
“Still hurting—but I don’t think anything’s broken.”
“Good, ’Cause you’re going to have to keep up. I can’t support you and shoot at the same time.”
“As sympathetic as ever.” She increased her pace, gritting her teeth. The swirling steam grew thicker, rivulets of hot water cutting channels through the ice in the pit below. “Do you have a plan?”
Chase pointed at the steam cloud. “If we can lose them in that, we can double back and get Nina. Then we’ll head for the hole in the dam and get the fuck out of here.”
“That’s not a plan,” Sophia complained as they crossed a bridge. “That’s an objective. Plans generally have some how amongst the what.”
“God, you’re as pedantic as her! Okay, the how is that we kill these Covenant arseholes and don’t get shot by them. That do you?”
“It’s the best I’ll get, I suppose.” She let out a faint laugh. “This is rather like how we first met, don’t you think?”
“Don’t even start—Shit!” Chase pushed Sophia aside as a chunk of falling ice the size of his head smashed on the flagstones
just in front of them. Another, larger lump landed with a splash in a steaming channel that had been melted through the ice beneath the bridge. “Jesus, that was close!”
Sophia looked up, flinching as droplets of cold water fell on her face. “It’s turning into a bloody monsoon!”
“Hope the ceiling holds,” said Chase. He checked for their pursuers. “Shit, they’re coming! Leg it!”
They ducked into another guardhouse. Chase looked through one of the slitlike windows. Three men were coming after them, moving in a protective “leapfrog” formation: two taking up positions to cover the third as he overtook them, then the rearmost man repeating the cycle.
He crossed to the doorway to the right of where they had entered. Off to the left was the arena-like area he’d noticed earlier, the icy expanse riddled with twisting trenches carved by hot water. Clouds of steam wafted over it, thick enough to obscure the view. A bridge ahead crossed over a broad passage divided by two deep, winding channels of glossy ice, more steam rising from them. On the bridge’s far side was a larger building—abutting the hypogeum’s outer wall. “If we get across there, we can get outside and head back to the temple.”
Sophia shook her head. “If they haven’t killed Nina by now, they’ll have captured her.”
“They might not have found her. I’ve got to look—and I don’t want to hear any more fucking arguments,” he said as she opened her mouth to object. “We’re doing it.” He moved back across the guardhouse to observe the Covenant advance, then pointed along the bridge. “Okay, you go first—keep down below the wall. I’ll be right behind you.”
She got on her knees, sloshing through puddles. Chase looked through the narrow window but saw no sign of the approaching men. “Shit,” he whispered, moving to the doorway and glancing out. Now he saw them—or, rather, two of them, a black gun barrel pointing toward the guardhouse around the end of a wall as the top of another hunched man’s hood bobbed toward it.
If the last trooper was advancing, then where the hell was the man who had taken point?