“The Janjaweed are running,” Vogler told him. “We’ve lost at least half our men, though.”
Zamal let out an angry breath. “Why did they turn on us?”
“They didn’t. It was Chase.”
“What?”
“He was in that truck—and Wilde was driving it.”
Zamal swore loudly in Arabic. “If Chase is here, Blackwood must be as well—The sniper!” he exclaimed, looking toward the dark dunes as the realization hit him. “It must have been her.”
Both men turned as Callum ran toward them, firing a burst from a SCAR and taking down a man with a rocket launcher. “Wilde’s escaped!”
“Yes, we noticed,” said Vogler acidly. “With the help of Chase—and your former prisoner.”
“Don’t try to pin this on me,” Callum growled. “I didn’t turn this whole goddamn thing into a slaughterhouse. Your psycho friends did that, Zamal.”
Zamal’s face tightened, but Vogler interrupted before he could reply. “We need to secure this situation. How many Janjaweed are left?”
“Forget the Janjaweed, we need to get after Wilde,” Callum said. “Are the Humvees still drivable?”
Vogler looked at the vehicle they were crouched behind. Its bodywork was scarred with bullet holes, its windows cracked and broken, and a tire had been blown out. “Two destroyed, and the rest all damaged. Repairable, but I doubt we will be able to leave before morning.”
“They could be thirty miles away by then,” said Zamal. “We’ll never find them.”
“I’ll take care of that,” said Callum. “Just find me a satellite phone.”
“Slow down, slow down!” Chase yelped as the Hilux crested a rise and briefly took off, plowing back with a suspension-straining crash.
“Are you crazy?” said Nina, grinding the pickup into a lower gear to keep up its speed. “I want to get as far away from them as possible!”
“We need to wait for Sophia.” He looked back. A pair of headlights was bounding across the desert toward them—not from the Janjaweed camp but from the surrounding dunes. Sophia, in the Land Cruiser.
“Do we really?”
“Yeah, really. She’s got an extra gun, if nothing else.”
“Right, and how long before it’s pointing at us?”
“Not as soon as that one,” Chase said with alarm, seeing something pursuing them, silhouetted against the fires. A man on a horse, AK-47 on his back.
Catching up fast.
Chase climbed into the cargo bed. “Okay, forget slowing down, go faster!” He found one of the ammo boxes and pulled out the heavy belt of bullets. A glance behind: the horseman was still coming but had veered to one side, moving to intercept the approaching Land Cruiser.
Sophia was slammed forward as the Land Cruiser hit another bump. The elderly vehicle had only a lap belt rather than a full seat belt, and a threadbare one at that. She spun the wheel to straighten out, aiming for the taillights ahead. Nina was charging through the desert like a maniac, far too fast for the terrain.
But she wasn’t the only one.
Movement in her peripheral vision: a man on horseback galloping parallel to the Land Cruiser, a hundred feet away and closing as he swung an AK from his back and aimed it at her.
She tried to swerve away, but too late.
Only a few bullets from the wild spray of fire hit her vehicle—but one found a vital spot. The front tire blew out, the wheel hub digging into the sand. The Land Cruiser skidded to a stop in a huge cloud of dust, almost rolling over before dropping heavily back onto its remaining three wheels.
Dazed, Sophia sat up—to see the horseman flash through her headlight beams, still pursuing the other truck.
“Shit!” said Chase as he saw Sophia’s 4×4 slew to a halt. The Janjaweed rider was still gaining—and now had his gun at the ready.
He struggled to load the machine gun, having to rely almost entirely on touch to figure out the unfamiliar mechanism in the dark. He managed to open the ammo feed’s cover and and hinge it up, trying to load the first round—
The AK-47 spat fire. A bullet hissed past Chase’s head; he dropped, the ammo belt chinking down beside him as more shots hit the back of the Hilux. Nina ducked in her seat.
The gunfire stopped. Chase risked a look over the tailgate. The rider was a blood-red demon in the rear lights. He shouldered the AK—out of ammo.
But he had another weapon.
A machete. He raised the long, brutal blade high like a sword.
Chase retrieved the ammo belt and jumped back up to reload the machine gun, glancing at Nina to check that she hadn’t been hit. She was only just sitting up …
And hadn’t seen what was rushing at them in the headlights.
“Look out!” he started to shout—but the Hilux had already reached the edge of the ditch.
The empty streambed was shallow, the steep bank no more than eighteen inches deep—but it was enough to tip the Toyota over as its right wheels dropped into the depression. Nina braked hard and tried to stop the truck from overturning …
Too late.
Chase threw himself out of the cargo bed as the truck rolled, landing hard in the dry streambed. The pickup hit the far bank and crashed to a standstill on its side.
He crawled toward it. Only one headlight was still working. No sign of Nina. He stood—
And was smashed to the ground as something huge and heavy hit him from behind.
Hamed pulled the reins to slow his horse and wheel around for another attack, preparing to trample Chase into the sand.
Chase dived into the ditch as the horse thundered at him, then scrambled clumsily back to his feet. The rider turned again, his horse jumping down into the red-lit arena of the streambed.
They faced each other for a moment. Then the Janjaweed leader extended his arm, pointing his machete at Chase—and spurred the horse into a charge.
Chase grabbed for the Browning. It wasn’t there—he had lost it when he’d jumped from the truck. He turned and ran for the pickup, the pounding hooves closing fast, almost on him.
A swish—
Pure instinct made him dive and roll as the machete swept over his head. Hamed pulled up. The horse turned and reared, front legs swiping at Chase. He threw up his arms to protect his head, taking a savage kick and falling onto his back.
Hamed jumped from the horse, slashing the machete at Chase. He rolled as the blade smacked down where his shoulder had just been. Another roll, springing up as the blade hacked again, narrowly missing his legs.
Behind Hamed he saw Nina crawling from the Hilux’s open cab. The machine gun was pointing toward him. If she could reach it—
No good. It wasn’t loaded, the ammo belt a coiled snake in the ditch.
Hamed advanced, jabbing the machete. Chase ducked back, the two men slowly circling.
Nina groaned, catching the Janjaweed leader’s attention. He leered. Chase had no doubt what his intentions were: kill him, then …
“No you fucking don’t,” he growled. Hamed might not have understood the words, but he still knew what Chase was saying, and grinned malevolently as he lunged. Chase dodged the heavy blade as it whipped past. He tried to knock it from the Janjaweed’s hand, but Hamed anticipated the move and twisted the machete to rip through his sleeve, the blade’s ragged edge drawing blood. Chase jerked away, realizing too late that the horse was right behind him.
Hamed shouted a command. The horse reared again, knocking Chase down.
The Janjaweed leader moved in for the kill, raising the machete high to cleave it down through Chase’s spine—
The tip of the ammo belt lashed across Hamed’s face as Nina swung it, tearing bloody gashes in his skin. He staggered back.
Chase jumped up. “Here!” Nina tossed him the belt. He caught one end with his left hand, whirling it—and snagging it around Hamed’s machete arm. He cracked the belt like a whip. Hamed’s arm shot up, the machete flying out of his hand.
Chase yanked hard, pulling
Hamed toward him—and delivering a nose-crushing punch.
The Janjaweed leader reeled but didn’t fall, held up by the ammo belt as Chase caught the falling machete with his right hand …
And swung it.
Hamed’s body collapsed, blood squirting from the stump of its neck. His head bounced away down the streambed, rolling to a stop—at Sophia’s feet. She eyed it. “This is no time for football, Eddie.”
Chase didn’t reply, instead going to Nina. “You okay?”
“I think so …” She saw the cut on his arm. “What about you?”
“It’s not as bad as it looks. Just hope he washed his machete after he used it last.” He crouched and unwound the ammo belt from Hamed’s arm.
Sophia reached them, the rifle over one shoulder, a backpack on the other. After exchanging looks of mutual loathing with Nina, she went to the horse, which had taken its owner’s death with a complete lack of concern, and patted the animal’s neck. “You found another ride, then. Although it might be a little cramped for three of us.”
“Dobbin wasn’t what I had in mind. Give me a hand.” He spotted and retrieved the Browning, then went to the pickup to push it back onto its wheels. The two women joined him; after a few seconds of effort, it toppled back down. He dropped the ammo belt into the rear bed, tossing other spilled items after it, then hopped into the cab and turned the key. To his surprise, the engine started on the first try. “Wow, these things really are indestructible.”
Sophia held up the bubble compass from the Land Cruiser as she and Nina climbed aboard. “And I’ve got the perfect dashboard accessory.” She looked northwest. “That way.”
“The gang’s all here,” Nina said sarcastically, giving Chase a pointedly questioning glare when she realized Sophia was wearing his leather jacket. He took it back, to Sophia’s annoyance, and put it on.
“Okay, then,” he said. “Next stop … the Garden of Eden.”
THIRTY-THREE
They drove through the night, Chase guiding the Hilux across the desert. There was no sign of pursuit, by either the Janjaweed or the Covenant. Even so, the going was slow, with treacherous terrain and only one working headlight to guide them. More than once, they had to dig the truck out when it became bogged in soft sand.
The hours passed, Nina managing to doze fitfully despite the bumpy ride. By the time Chase was forced to stop to refuel from one of the battered cans in the rear bed, the eastern sky had started to brighten. At this low latitude, sunrise came quickly.
“Okay,” said Chase, throwing the empty can back into the truck, the clang waking Nina with a start, “now that we can see, let’s work out where we are.” He surveyed the surrounding desert for landmarks. “Give me the rifle.”
Sophia handed him the Lee-Enfield. He peered through the scope, scanning the horizon. Distant shapes resolved themselves into flat-topped islands of stone rising above the sands. “Okay, I see one, two, three mesas.”
“Let me see those,” said Nina, taking the photo blowups of the Antarctic map from Sophia. The word that had been pronounced as “Eden” on the ancient cylinder lay at the beginning of the Veteres’ long trail … between three trapezoidal symbols. Truncated mountains. “You think …?”
Sophia examined the modern map. “It matches the terrain. Three bluffs—and these dry riverbeds. Four of them.”
Nina looked more closely. Four faint lines wound outward from the center. “Eddie, how far away are they?”
“Five or six miles,” said Chase. “It shouldn’t take too long to get there.” He put down the rifle, regarded the machine gun for a moment, then started to reload it. “Just in case,” he told Nina. “The Covenant’ll probably be able to fix some of those Humvees.”
“But they won’t be able to follow us, will they?” She looked back. The desert wind was already scouring away their tire tracks.
Chase’s expression didn’t reassure her. “Like I said, just in case.” He chambered the first round, then climbed back into the driver’s seat and restarted the engine.
“Of course, Nina,” said Sophia as they set off, “we wouldn’t have to worry about the Covenant if you hadn’t teamed up with them in the first place.”
“I didn’t ‘team up with them,’” Nina protested. “I was their damn prisoner, I didn’t have any say in the matter!”
“All the same, they didn’t have the map.” She held up one of the photos. “Without this, you could have told them Eden was in Ethiopia, or Egypt, or bloody Timbuktu, and they couldn’t have contradicted you. But no, you not only bring them to Sudan, but you even bring them to the right part of Sudan! What did they do, offer you a deal?”
“All right, that’s enough,” said Chase, giving Sophia a warning look. She made a dismissive sound and turned away. His gaze moved to Nina, holding on her for slightly too long before returning to the landscape ahead.
“What?” Nina said defensively, correctly guessing what he was thinking. “I didn’t make a deal, not like that. ‘Tell us what we want to know or we’ll kill you’ isn’t really a deal.”
“But you still brought ’em here.”
“I told you last night, I didn’t have much choice. What was I going to do, say no and get killed?”
“Why didn’t you give them the wrong location?” Chase asked.
“Because—because I … Look, they were going to kill me, all right?” Nina drew her arms tightly around herself. “I thought that once we were out here, I might be able to get away.”
“And then find Eden all on your own,” Sophia said. “Since you conveniently brought them right to its doorstep. You used your friends, then you used your enemies to get here. You really are quite the little glory hound, aren’t you?”
“Jesus, shut up!” snapped Chase. “Fucking nonstop snideyness, it’s like still being married to you!”
Sophia frowned but fell silent. Nobody spoke for several seconds.
“She’s got a point, though,” Chase said quietly.
Nina’s response was louder. “What?”
“I know you get obsessive about archaeology, but Christ, this is taking it to a new level! You’ve never voluntarily worked with people who want to kill you”—a glance at Sophia—“to find something before. And I know Matt’s a soft touch, but you still walked all over him to get to Antarctica. He was lucky to get out of there alive—and Bandra and that other guy, David, didn’t.”
“You’re blaming me for their deaths?” asked Nina angrily.
“No, the Covenant killed them.”
“But you think it was my fault, right?”
“I think this is a side of you I hadn’t seen before, is what I think,” snapped Chase. “Remember on the Pianosa, when I asked you how far you were willing to go for this stuff?” He looked at her. “Looks like now I know.” Nina couldn’t meet his eyes.
She hadn’t made a deal with the Covenant, she told herself. She had just done what she had to in order to stay alive.
Hadn’t she?
There was no conversation for the rest of the drive. The bluffs drew closer. Still no sign of pursuit. The Hilux bumped over the last dunes surrounding the mesas to find traction on harder, stonier ground, the landscape already shimmering as the sun heated it.
Nina looked up. The steep sides of the first mesa rose a couple of hundred feet above the surrounding desert, the others slightly higher. But the plain between them was devoid of anything but rocks.
“So is this it?” Chase asked, turning the Toyota toward the plain’s center. “Not much of a garden spot.”
“Not now, but it would have been, over a hundred thousand years ago,” said Nina. “Even the Sahara was green once.” The area was so desolate, however, that it was hard to imagine anything growing here, never mind a garden worthy of God himself.
She looked at the photograph again. The text for “Eden” was, she noticed, closest to the northernmost of the huge rocky outcroppings. “Head for that one,” she said, pointing.
They drove across t
he plain, the sun beating down. The whole place seemed utterly lifeless … until Nina noticed a lone bird above the mesa ahead. It glided in a lazy circle, then dropped out of sight behind the flat summit. She waited for it to reappear, but it didn’t.
The technical jolted. “Sorry,” said Chase, slowing as the Toyota descended a slope. “I think we found one of your riverbeds, though.”
“It’s narrow,” said Sophia, speaking for the first time since Chase had snapped at her. “We must be near its source.”
“Yeah, but where is it?” Nina wondered. The shallow channel led to the rising cliff walls of the bluff … and stopped abruptly at its base.
“Must have been a spring here once,” said Chase, bringing the technical to a stop near the cliff and climbing out. Nina and Sophia followed, gazing up at the wall of gray-and-orange stone.
“Maybe the Garden of Eden was on top of the mesa,” Sophia suggested. “It would have been a good defensive position, especially if they were worried about animal attacks.”
“Maybe,” Nina replied, but the idea didn’t feel right. Shading her eyes, she slowly turned to take in the plain, the other mesas, the surrounding desert …
Something in the sky, a pale dot. “Is that a plane?”
Chase whirled. “Where?”
“There.” She pointed.
Chase ran back to the pickup and took out the rifle. “What is it?” Sophia asked as he stared through the telescopic sights.
His reply, when it came, was a horrified whisper. “Buggeration …”
Nina grimaced. “If the next words I hear are ‘and fuckery,’ I’m going to be very unhappy.”
“And fuckery,” Chase finished. “It’s a fucking Reaper!”
“That … doesn’t sound good.”
“It’s not. You know on the news, when the White House or the Pentagon shows those videos of missiles zooming right at some terrorist and flying down his throat before they explode?”
“Yes?”
He stabbed a finger at the approaching gray spot. “That’s what fires the missiles!”