“Yeah. But I’m starting to see what you’ve got in mind for a solution.”
“And do you approve?”
“No. But I approve of the alternative even less.”
“Mind filling the rest of us in?” Chase asked.
“He’s giving me two choices,” Nina told him. “I tell the world about finding Eden, but don’t mention anything about the Veteres—for years. In the meantime, the Covenant gradually introduces the idea of them into the public consciousness, while they get theologians to work out ways to explain their existence that don’t contradict Genesis. Then, by the time their existence is actually revealed, the idea’s been around long enough to neutralize the shock value. Am I right?” Vogler nodded.
“And Option B?”
She glanced at Vogler’s gun. “Bang, aargh, thud.”
“Yeah, I thought so.”
“So what is your decision, Dr. Wilde?” said Vogler. “One way or another, Eden must be revealed to the world … but whether by you or by someone else is entirely your choice. Make it now.”
Nina turned to Chase. “Eddie? This affects you too—what do you think?”
He shrugged. “Either cave in to these arseholes and lie to the world, or be dead? They’re both crap options, but the second one’s definitely crappier.”
“I know.” She squeezed his hand sadly, then reluctantly turned back to Vogler. “I don’t have much choice, do I? I … I accept your offer. At least this way, some truth will come out. Eventually.”
“A wise decision,” said Vogler.
“Hardly!” Ribbsley spluttered. “Do you really think she’ll go along with it?”
“I think she’s a person of her word, yes.”
“It doesn’t matter what you think,” said Callum. “It’s the wrong choice.”
Vogler rounded on him. “That is not for you to decide, Mr. Callum.”
“Actually, it is.” He drew his gun—and shot Vogler.
THIRTY-EIGHT
Nina gasped as Vogler fell to the floor, blood gushing from his abdomen. Before anyone could react, Callum unleashed a rapid-fire spray of bullets at the remaining Covenant troopers, felling them.
Vogler’s rifle landed near Chase. He was about to drop and grab it, but Callum had already seen the danger and was jabbing his gun at him. “Don’t even think about it!” He gestured for Chase, Nina, and Sophia to move toward the doorway.
Ribbsley retreated to the other side of the room. “Some explanation, please, Mr. Callum?”
“I’m correcting the Covenant’s bad choice.” He reached into his jacket, flicking a switch on something within. “Mr. President, did you hear all that?”
“Loud and clear, Mr. Callum.” The voice was rendered hollow and metallic by the radio’s small loudspeaker, but it was still unmistakable: Victor Dalton, president of the United States of America. “Report your situation.”
“All remaining Covenant forces are dead or”—he glanced at Vogler, who was weakly clutching the bullet wound—“disabled. Still here are Chase, Professor Ribbsley, Dr. Wilde … and Sophia Blackwood.”
“Hello, Victor,” said Sophia, almost chattily. “It’s been awhile.”
There was a pause before Dalton spoke again, choosing to ignore her. “Mr. Callum, I take it that the Garden of Eden contains what we feared?”
“Yes, sir. Definitive proof of a nonhuman civilization predating mankind—which influenced the story told in the Book of Genesis.”
Another pause. “I see. In that case, Mr. Callum—code word: Revelation.”
“Understood, sir,” said Callum. Still covering Nina, Chase, and Sophia, he adjusted a setting on the radio. “Abaddon, Abaddon, this is Archangel. Do you copy?”
“Roger, Archangel,” said a distorted voice with a Texan accent, “this is Abaddon. I read you.”
“Abaddon, you have authorization to proceed with the operation, these coordinates. Give me estimated time to initiation.”
“Archangel, I estimate fifteen minutes to initiation. Will that give you sufficient time to egress area?”
“Affirmative, Abaddon. Begin operation now. Archangel out.”
“Confirmed, Archangel. Commencing operation. Out.”
Callum flicked the switch back. “Mr. President, the operation is under way.”
“What operation?” Nina demanded.
Dalton sounded faintly amused. “Abaddon, Dr. Wilde, is the code name of a B-2 stealth bomber that took off from our base in Uganda about an hour ago and is now circling over Sudanese airspace at sixty thousand feet. Mr. Callum just gave the order for it to drop two MOPs on what the pilots have been told is a high-value terrorist target.”
“MOPs?” Nina suspected she wouldn’t like the meaning of the acronym.
“Massive Ordnance Penetrators,” said Callum. “Thirty-thousand-pound bunker busters.”
“Earthquake bombs,” added Chase.
“Ah. But—but why? What do you gain from destroying Eden?”
“That’s not your concern anymore, Dr. Wilde,” answered Dalton. “Mr. Callum, I’ll let you get moving. But one last thing: you know your orders. Carry them out … starting with Sophia Blackwood.”
“My pleasure, sir. Callum out.” He switched off the radio, then stepped forward, shifting his gun from Chase to Sophia.
“Kill me, and Victor’s career is over,” she said. “The recording of us together will be released.”
“You’re already officially dead,” he reminded her with a cold grin. “Nothing happened. The president’s position is secure.”
“Oh, nice job with the blackmail,” Nina muttered as Sophia’s face fell. “You didn’t think of that?”
“Actually, I did. But I was rather hoping nobody else had.”
Callum’s smile widened as he took aim at Sophia’s heart—
Blam!
The gunshot echoed around the chamber—but it hadn’t come from Callum’s gun, which flew from his hand to land inside the burial chamber. The white-haired man yelled in pain.
“Sorry, old chap,” said Ribbsley, his own smoking pistol tracking Callum. “But I can’t let you do that.”
“Good shot,” Chase said in sarcastic admiration.
“Before I entered academia, I was an officer in the Rhodesian army. Not a skill set I draw on very often, but it can be useful.”
Sophia gave him a relieved smile. “You cut that rather close, Gabriel.”
“I knew I could trust you when you gave me back my laptop in Australia, so you can trust me too.”
“You gave him back his laptop?” Nina said, angry.
“Just hedging my bets,” said Sophia, joining Ribbsley. “After all, my long-term prospects for survival with you and Eddie weren’t really any higher than with the Covenant.”
“Well, you’re safe now,” said Ribbsley as she picked up a dead soldier’s rifle. “Everything’s worked out very well. We found Eden, we have a surprisingly intact Veteres body, and Callum even took care of the Covenant for us.”
“We also have a stealth bomber bearing down on our heads, and less than fifteen minutes to get clear.” She looked at her watch. “Less than fourteen, in fact.”
“Once we reach the helicopter, we’ll be out of here in two. Keep them covered.” He picked up Vogler’s SIG, then entered the burial chamber, reaching into the sarcophagus and tearing at the shroud.
“What are you doing?” Nina asked.
“An insurance policy. And a retirement policy,” Ribbsley told her as he ripped away the last of the cloth, then gripped the corpse by its neck. “The Covenant may have lost its leaders, but it still exists. With this—or, rather, with the threat of the DNA evidence it’ll provide—I’ll be able to renegotiate my terms with the new leaders.”
“Trade the proof for money?” said Nina in disgust.
“Something like that.”
Everyone reacted in momentary surprise as Vogler spoke, his quavering voice revealing the intense agony he was suffering. “Not … the deal …
we made …” He went limp.
“The deal you made is no longer relevant,” Ribbsley told him, straining at the skeleton. “Because soon you’ll be dead, and so will Dr. Wilde, and this entire place will be a smoking hole in the ground. A shame, a waste, but one has to make the best of changing circumstances.” With a last grunt, he tore the skull from the body with a dry crack. He looked into its decayed face, then wrapped it in the torn piece of shroud and returned to the larger chamber. “Time we were going.”
“One minute, Gabriel,” said Sophia. She smiled again, this time with a catlike malice. “There are some people I’ve waited a long time to deal with. And so many choices! Who should I kill first?” She pointed the gun at Callum. “My charming chaperone, perhaps? I’m really going to enjoy watching your boss squirm. Or …” The weapon came around to Chase. “The last—and least—of my ex-husbands?”
“Hey!” said Chase, offended.
The muzzle settled on Nina. “Or you, Nina?” Sophia fingered the scar on her cheek as she moved closer. “You’ve already given me so much to remember you by.”
“Glad I won’t be forgotten,” said Nina.
“Oh, I won’t be giving you much thought. The media will, though, what with such an ignominious end to your career. The discoverer of Atlantis, fired from her post in disgrace before disappearing and dying in anonymity. Unmourned. Sad, really.”
“At least she won’t have people lining up to piss on her grave,” Chase said.
“They can do whatever they like to my grave, as long as I’m not in it. Unlike our religious friends here,” said Sophia, “I believe that you only get one life, and all that matters in it is winning. I’m legally dead—a spot of plastic surgery, a deal with the Covenant, and Gabriel and I will be free to do exactly as we please. The best revenge, as they say, is living well … and I intend to live very well.”
Ribbsley walked toward the main door, looking back impatiently. “Neither of us will be living if we don’t get out of here, Sophia. Just kill them and let’s go.”
“Oh, very well,” sighed Sophia, for the briefest moment glancing at him—
Chase’s hand lashed out, trying to knock the gun from her grip.
He wasn’t quite close enough, only catching the weapon with a glancing blow. Sophia instinctively fired, the bullet slicing past Chase to hit the wall behind him. Startled, then enraged, she whipped the gun around at his chest, about to fire at point-blank range—
Nina jerked the penknife from her pocket and stabbed its blade deep into the back of her wrist.
Sophia shrieked and jumped away, trying to fire—but the blade was jammed between the bones of her forearm, paralyzing the tendons.
Chase was about to lunge at her, until he saw Callum diving for one of the dead troopers’ rifles. Ribbsley was also bringing up his own pistol. Chase immediately changed tactics, grabbing Nina and leaping with her into the burial chamber. He shoved her away from the entrance as he searched for Callum’s fallen gun.
Sophia had also seen Callum snatching up the rifle. She hurled herself over one of the stone benches and took cover behind it, pulling the blade from her wrist. “Bitch!” she hissed as she tossed the bloodied penknife away and painfully flexed her fingers.
Callum was about to fire at her, but Ribbsley got off the first shot as he found cover behind another bench near the entrance. Callum was left with no choice but to throw himself into the second, unexplored, burial chamber, disappearing into the darkness.
Chase found Callum’s gun, a Smith & Wesson Sigma 40P, and snatched it up before pressing his back against the wall beside the entrance. He examined the weapon. Ribbsley’s shot had dented the slide, the steel buckled forward of the ejection port. He racked it experimentally, hand over the port to catch the unfired bullet. The slug plopped coldly into his palm as he pulled the slide fully back—but it was extremely stiff, not moving smoothly along its rails. If he fired, there was a very high chance of a jam. He would have to rack the slide manually for each shot. Quickly ejecting the magazine, he clicked the stray bullet into its top before slapping it back into place.
“Sophia!” Ribbsley shouted. “Are you okay?”
“That bitch stabbed me!” she yelled back.
“Get over here, I’ll cover you!” Crouching, the professor looked around the side of the bench, gun fixed on the entrance to the second burial chamber.
Chase risked a look around his own doorway. He caught a glimpse of Sophia as she shuffled quickly between two of the benches, but not enough of her to take a shot. He leaned out slightly farther, trying to spot Callum—and jerked back as Ribbsley changed targets and took a shot at him, the bullet pitting the stone beside his head.
Another gunshot—but this was closer. Callum darted out to take a shot at Ribbsley, forcing him to duck. The American was about to make a run for the cover of another bench when Chase fired at him. The bullet went wide, but the startled Callum again flinched back into the dark room.
Chase looked at his gun. The spent casing had ejected, but the slide was stuck in the locked-back position, even though there were still bullets in the magazine. Cursing, he forced it forward until he felt the mechanism chamber the next round.
Sophia took advantage of the distraction to hurry to Ribbsley’s position. Ribbsley looked in dismay at her blood-soaked wrist. “My God, you’re—”
“Never mind that,” she snapped. “Get to the chopper and start it up—I’ll keep them pinned down here until you’re at takeoff speed.” He looked about to object, but her barked order of “Go on, go!” silenced him. Instead, he waited until she was ready to fire, then made a run for the exit as she blasted two shots at Callum’s position and a single one at Chase’s before dropping down again.
Nina jumped as the bullet hit the burial chamber’s back wall. “What’s happening?”
“Got a bit of a Mexican standoff,” said Chase, peering cautiously around the doorway. “I’ve got Callum pinned, he’s got us pinned, and Sophia’s got a good angle on us both.” He could see Sophia’s shadow in the light coming through the mausoleum’s entrance, but she herself was in full cover.
“How long have we got left?”
“Twelve minutes, give or take.”
“How are we going to get out of the cave in twelve minutes?”
“Let’s worry about getting out of this room first.” He peered around the doorway again; the brief glance revealed a rifle pointing at him from inside the second chamber and he pulled back as Callum fired, the bullet slamming a chunk of stone from the wall. A moment later, Sophia took a shot at the American. Chase took another look to see Callum retreating into the shadows. He fired at him, the Sigma’s slide jamming again. “This is fucking ridiculous!” he growled as he reloaded. “None of us can move!”
“Sophia will in a minute,” said Nina, hearing a rising sound from outside. The helicopter’s engine.
“Great, and we won’t be able to go after her because Callum’ll shoot us, and he can’t go after her because I’ll shoot him!”
Callum had reached the same conclusion. Nina and Chase heard him speak urgently into his radio. “Abaddon, Abaddon, this is Archangel, urgent! This is a code alpha hold, repeat, a code alpha hold order.” The response was too muted for them to make out.
“What’s he doing?” Nina asked.
“Telling the stealth not to drop its bombs,” said Chase.
“Well, that’s great! Isn’t it?”
“Yeah, until he tells ’em to start the clock again. It’s still on its way.” Another glance; Sophia had raised the SIG. She fired two shots at Callum’s position, and Chase unleashed one at hers, the bullet cracking stone as she dropped.
He racked the slide again. The helicopter sounded like it was almost at takeoff speed—which meant Sophia would be about to move. With nobody to give her covering fire, he could guess her tactics: switch the SIG to full auto and spray both doorways with bullets as she retreated.
If he could catch her as she rose to fire …
He moved back into firing position, saw Sophia jumping up from behind the bench, took aim—
And was forced to throw himself back into cover—Callum was fixing his sights on him!
Grit sprayed into his face as another rifle bullet cratered the stone. “Twat!” Chase snarled, a rattle of automatic fire and a hailstorm of lead against the walls telling him he’d missed his one chance.
The firing stopped. Sophia had made it out of the mausoleum.
Which still left Callum to deal with.
The only thing stopping him from escaping was Chase, and vice versa. They would have to face off against each other—
Now!
Chase sprang around the doorway at almost the same moment Callum came into view in the other chamber. The Englishman had the advantage in that his Sigma was quicker to aim than the assault rifle, but the other man had firepower on his side …
Chase fired first—but his damaged gun’s sights were slightly off. The shot zipped past Callum to hit inside the other burial chamber. Callum returned fire as Chase pulled back, struggling to cycle his recalcitrant weapon. “Come on, you fucking thing—”
The next bullet was chambered. He whipped back out, instinctively compensating for the misaligned sights as he fired, a moment too late to catch Callum.
The American reappeared—but not lining up another shot. Instead he ran out into the open. He had realized Chase was having trouble with the gun, and he used the vital few seconds to reach one of the dead troopers and snatch a hand grenade from his webbing as Chase fumbled with the Sigma.
The slide cycled; bullet loaded.
Too late.
Callum had pulled the pin and lobbed the grenade through the doorway.
Chase instantly forgot about shooting him. He had less than four seconds to find cover before the grenade exploded, filling the room with a storm of shrapnel.
He pulled Nina with him.
Three seconds.
Hiding behind the sarcophagus wouldn’t be enough to save them.
Two seconds.
The only protection was inside it.