One—
Nina half jumped, was half thrown into the ancient stone coffin as Chase leapt in on top of her and pulled the edge of the heavy lid.
Zero.
Sophia heard the explosion as the helicopter took off, dust and smoke swirling from the mausoleum a second later. Either Chase or Callum had gotten hold of a grenade and used it against the other—but who was still standing?
Not that it mattered. Callum might have ordered a postponement of the bombing, but since Dalton wanted Eden destroyed, it wouldn’t be long before the attack resumed, whether Callum was clear or not.
She still had the rifle, keeping it fixed on the entrance as Ribbsley maneuvered the chopper toward the cavern’s ceiling. Seconds passed. No sign of anyone. Beside her, Ribbsley frowned in concentration as he watched the narrowing gap between the rock and the tips of the rotor blades.
Movement in the entrance. White hair. Callum.
Sophia fired a burst, forcing him back inside. Ribbsley winced at the noise but held the chopper steady, guiding it into position directly beneath the hole. Callum reappeared, trying to bring his own rifle to bear, but Sophia’s last bullets made him retreat again.
Ribbsley brought the helicopter to full power. Backwash from the rotors against the rocky ceiling buffeted them, and then they were clear, emerging into the bright desert sunlight.
Sophia took a final look down at the Garden of Eden as the helicopter turned east, toward Khartoum. A brief glimpse of the statue and the plateau, the mausoleum at its heart amid the carpet of flowers—then it was gone as they moved away.
Ribbsley let out a relieved breath. “We did it. We did it!” He glanced at the wrapped skull in Sophia’s footwell. “I think that should give us plenty of leverage over the Covenant. We’ll be able to get a new identity for you … and a substantial sum of money, of course.”
“Can you trust them?”
“If di Bonaventura becomes the acting head of the Catholic contingent, which I’m sure he will, then yes. If I pitch it to him as a business opportunity rather than full-on blackmail, I think we’ll get what we want.”
Sophia smiled. “Marvelous. And then, I think a little petty revenge on Victor is in order.”
“I thought it might be,” said Ribbsley with a grin. “Who were you shooting at, by the way? Chase or Callum?”
“Callum.”
“So Chase is dead? And Dr. Wilde too, presumably. Not before time.”
“I know. Although I would have preferred to kill them myself …” She looked back at the retreating mesa.
“What is it?” Ribbsley asked.
“Something I once said to Eddie. That I wasn’t going to make the mistake of assuming he was dead until I actually saw his body.”
“Even if Callum didn’t kill him, he’s still going to be blown to bits when the bombs hit. There’s no way he’ll get out of that cave in time.”
“Let’s hope.” All the same, she stared back at the mesa until it was obscured from view by the fuselage as the helicopter turned. “Good-bye, Eddie,” she said quietly.
Callum glared up at the opening, then shook off his anger at Sophia’s escape. He had more immediate problems.
He looked back into the mausoleum. Dust was still swirling, but the air was clear enough for him to tell that there was no movement in the burial chamber, no sounds of life.
Shouldering the rifle, he ran across the plateau, feet decapitating flowers as he headed for the grappling lines. Below, the two Humvees were parked beside the lake almost underneath the giant statue’s outstretched hand, their tracks leading back into the jungle. The 4×4s had flattened most of the obstacles they’d encountered on their way around the far end of the ravine and through the jungle; by retracing the route, he could reach the tunnel before the bombs hit.
He tossed all but one of the grapnels over the edge of the cliff, taking hold of the remaining line and rappelling down it. Once at the bottom, he shook the line until the grapnel came loose, clanking down the rock face. On the extremely slim chance that anybody was still alive, they now had no way down except by the long and precarious path behind the statue.
They wouldn’t even have time to get halfway. He reactivated the radio. “Abaddon, Abaddon, this is Archangel.”
“Archangel, we copy,” the B-2 pilot answered.
“Give me your current estimated time to initiation.”
“Estimate ten minutes, Archangel. But we are still in a code alpha hold. Do you wish to resume operation?”
Callum ran to the nearest Humvee. “Confirm, Abaddon. Resume operation. Take this place out.” He started the engine, and set off in a spray of soil.
THIRTY-NINE
Well,” said Chase, “this is cozy.”
“Three’s a crowd, though,” Nina replied, horribly aware despite the total darkness that she was lying on top of a headless corpse.
The crack of the grenade explosion and the boom as the sarcophagus’s stone lid slammed down had come simultaneously. The body’s rib cage had collapsed beneath them with an unpleasant crunch, stubs of bone poking at Nina’s chest.
“Depends who the third one is. But it’s definitely not this bloke.” Chase shifted, trying to arch his back against the stone slab. “Let’s get this open.”
He strained, pushing himself up. There was a faint rasp from the lid, but no light entered the sarcophagus. “Bollocks,” he muttered. “Shift over a bit, I need more room.”
Nina tried to move, but to one side was nothing but solid stone, and on the other a rattling collection of dry bones. “Sorry …” She instead attempted to push herself up underneath Chase to give him an extra boost.
“Yeah, that’s hot,” he said, pushing again, “but … nnrgh! Not much help. Can you turn on your back?”
“Eddie, I can barely turn my hands over in this space.” She tried anyway, but was unable to do more than twist a little.
“Have to make do, then. When I say, push up against me as hard as you can. Ready?”
“Just a sec, I’ve got a bone stuck in me.”
“That’s my job.”
“God, Eddie!” She fidgeted until the offending fragment dropped away. “Okay, ready.”
“All right … Push!”
They both forced themselves upward. The rasp was louder this time, the heavy cover moving slightly, but still not enough. Chase leaned as far as he could toward the side opposite the hinges and pushed even harder. The lid grated again, and for a moment a thin line of pale light appeared along its edge … before the sheer weight forced him down again. In the confined space, he couldn’t get enough leverage.
“Buggeration and fuckery!” he spat. “I almost had it.”
“It took three of us to open it before,” Nina pointed out.
“Maybe we can call Callum back,” replied Chase, pain flaring in his knees as he pushed again. The faint line of light reappeared, widening slightly before wavering, then narrowing once more. “Shit, come on, come on!”
The light became a razor-thin slit, then vanished …
And suddenly widened again.
Nina and Chase both gasped as some of the pressure on their bodies was released, the lid rising by several inches. Chase slid one knee forward, able to brace himself and push harder. He shoved an arm through the gap, working his head and shoulders after it … to see Vogler, face twisted and sweating, holding up the stone slab.
He didn’t have time to ask for an explanation. Instead, he pushed up with all his might. Vogler cried in agony and slumped against the sarcophagus as the lid passed the tipping point—but instead of coming to a stop as before, it kept going. There was a nerve-scraping crunch as the hinges broke and the lid crashed to the floor, one corner breaking off.
Chase slumped, breathing heavily. “Nina, get out,” he said. She clambered from the sarcophagus, looking at Vogler with puzzlement—and suspicion. Chase did the same. “All right, I’ll bite—why’d you help us?”
Vogler pressed a hand against his bullet w
ound, the agony on his face easing slightly. “Dalton betrayed the Covenant,” he said, his voice little more than a choked whisper. “So did Ribbsley. Somebody’s got to tell the Cardinal what happened. I don’t think I’m going to make it out of here.”
“I don’t think we are, either,” Nina said, looking at her watch with dismay. “Nine minutes! It’ll take us longer than that just to get down to the temple!”
“We need a quicker way,” said Chase, climbing out. “Those grappling lines—no, shit, Callum’ll have chucked them.”
“Could we jump into the lake?” Nina suggested.
“We wouldn’t be able to jump far enough.” His eyes widened. “Unless we get a boost!” He rushed around the sarcophagus to the fallen lid. “Vogler! Are you going to die any second or can you help us kick Callum’s arse?”
Vogler gave him a strained rictus grin. “What do you want to do?”
“This lid—we need to get it to the statue, fast as we can!”
Nina looked at the cracked slab. “What for?”
“Quick way down. Nina, give him a hand.”
“He’s … he’s kinda got blood squirting out of his stomach, Eddie.”
“I can do it,” Vogler rasped, moving stiff-legged to the lid.
“Okay,” said Chase. “I’ll lift this end; Nina, get that end as high as you can so he doesn’t have to bend down too much. Soon as you’ve got it, we move and don’t stop until we get to the statue!”
Nina, still uncertain about what he intended, crouched and took hold of the broken corner. Neck muscles bulging, Chase let out a strangled roar as he lifted the slab. Her end lighter because of the missing corner, Nina managed to do the same, but it was still heavy enough to hurt. “Can’t—hold it!” she gasped.
Vogler stepped forward and gripped the slab—and screamed in pain.
“Put it down, put it down!” Nina begged, seeing more blood gush from his wound.
“No!” Vogler croaked. His whole body shuddering, he twisted to push one of his elbows against his abdomen. Another noise of agony escaped from his mouth—but he kept hold of the slab.
“Okay, go!” Chase shouted. Step by clumsy step, they swung the lid around and carried it through the doorway into the outer chamber.
“You holding up?” Chase called. Vogler gurgled something that might have been an affirmation, but Nina could tell that he was close to the breaking point.
They couldn’t stop, though. They were running out of time.
They reached the entrance and moved out among the flowers. No chance to appreciate their beauty one last time as they trampled the blossoms, weaving to avoid the gravestones. The back of the statue loomed ahead, the little bridge leading to its shoulders. “Okay, get it across,” Chase grunted.
Nina looked down. The switchback cliff path dropped vertiginously away below. “Hope it can take the weight.”
Chase went first, shuffling onto the narrow stone crossing. Nina shifted position at the other end of the slab so she and Vogler could both fit on the bridge at once. Her arm and shoulder muscles were ablaze, but she tightened her grip and moved step by step after Chase.
He was halfway across. Two-thirds. The surface of the bridge was covered in dirt and bird droppings. Detritus fell from the edges as he advanced, some dislodged by his feet—and some shaken loose as the stone blocks rocked under his weight.
“Oh, shit,” he said. “Come on, faster, faster! I don’t think it’s gonna hold!”
Nina tried to move more quickly, but Vogler gasped and spat out blood. The movement of the stone lid had momentarily pulled his arm away from his body, releasing pressure on his wound. “Oh God, I’m sorry!” she cried, slowing again.
Vogler forced an unconvincing smile, his face a ghastly white. “Not a problem … just get us across …”
Chase reached the far end, the last block dropping half an inch with a clunk as he stepped onto the statue’s shoulders. He brought the slab around toward its outstretched left arm. “Just a couple more feet, come on!”
Nina and Vogler followed, bumping against each other as the slab turned. Nina made footfall on the statue, the Swiss Guard a step behind—
The stone block beneath his foot gave way.
It slipped sideways, smaller blocks ripping loose and falling. Unsupported, the rest of the bridge broke apart and tumbled down the cliff to smash on the ground far below.
Vogler fell. The heavy slab dropped from Nina’s hands, the broken end barely missing her feet. The impact jarred the other end from Chase’s grip, sending him reeling backward. He caught the statue’s carved ear, just stopping himself from going over the edge.
Vogler dangled by his fingertips from the broken stub of the bridge. Even as Nina watched, one of his straining fingers lost its grip. “Eddie! He’s going to fall! Help me!”
“No!” Vogler gurgled as she grabbed his sleeve, blood bubbling from his mouth. “No—time! You have to—tell the Cardinal!” He looked Nina in the eye, fear and panic and pain suddenly replaced by the serenity of self-sacrifice. “Tell the Cardinal,” he repeated.
He closed his eyes.
And let go.
Nina couldn’t keep hold, already weakened by the effort of carrying the slab. Chase seized her from behind to stop her from toppling after him as Vogler plunged, not even screaming. A wet thump echoed up the cliff face.
Chase pulled Nina upright. “Oh, Jesus,” she whispered as she saw Vogler’s twisted body below.
“We’ve only got six minutes,” said Chase, drawing her away from the edge. “We’ve got to get that stone to the top of the arm. Now!” He moved to the slab’s unbroken end and pulled it inch by inch across the statue’s shoulder, gouging a furrow through the dirt.
Nina pushed the other end. “How’s this going to help us?”
“We can ride it down the arm like a sledge!”
She regarded him as if he’d gone mad. “What?”
“Trust me! I’ve done it before.”
“What?”
“Well, not exactly like this. But I once went down the side of a skyscraper in Shanghai on a sort of sledge, and that was a lot steeper.” He looked down as he reached the top of the arm. “Although the drop at the end was only about five feet, not fifty,” he added, biting his lip. “But the principle’s the same!” He jumped over the slab to land beside Nina, helping her push it over the edge.
The statue’s arm was dirty and moss-covered, its open palm overflowing with dangling creepers and spindly plants. Beyond it stretched the lake. Nina heard the roar of an engine; in the distance, she saw trees swaying as Callum plowed his Humvee through the jungle, taking a long dogleg route to pass around the end of the ravine near the cavern’s northern wall.
She looked back at Chase as she felt the slab shift, teetering on the edge of the slope. “If by some miracle we survive this, to hell with waiting until May—we are going to get so married.”
Chase grinned, and they kissed. “First things first, though,” he said as they parted. “Kneel on the back end.” Nina did so, bringing the seesawing slab back to the horizontal. He straddled the stone in front of her, lowering himself until he was almost touching it. “Now grab my waist—and don’t let go.”
“I’m not gonna enjoy this, am I?” Nina said as she took hold of him.
“Nope—but it’ll be a really good bit for your autobiography.”
“If I get to write it.”
“You can start after the honeymoon. Okay. Here … we … go!”
He dropped onto the slab, grabbing its edges—as his weight tipped it over the edge.
Stone rasped angrily against stone, a terrible grinding assaulting their ears. But the moss and dirt acted as a strange form of lubricant. The slab quickly built up speed, throwing up a spray of soil from its front edge. They hit the slight bend at the giant elbow with a crash, the slab slithering sideways, threatening to fall off the carved arm—but they were moving too fast for gravity to claim them, already at the hand—
&nbs
p; There was a colossal explosion of soil and vegetation as they plowed across the statue’s palm, shooting up its splayed fingers and flying out into open space …
Nina screamed as the slab fell away—and she lost her grip on Chase. The lake whirled below. They had been flung past the shore, falling toward deeper water—but too fast, gravity eagerly reclaiming its prizes.
She saw Chase twist in midair, trying to hit the water feetfirst. She did the same.
They hit the water.
The impact felt to Nina like landing on concrete—but it was nothing compared to the much harder blow a moment later as she hit the lake’s muddy bottom. The stone slab smashed down behind her, a shock wave pounding her back. Her breath was knocked from her in a froth of bubbles as silt swirled around her, obscuring her vision.
How deep was she? Her feet brushed the bottom, sending a painful bolt through her legs. She tried to swim upward, but she seemed engulfed in quicksand, her waterlogged clothes slowing her movements to the pace of a nightmare.
A sound. A voice, muffled, muted. Chase, calling her name.
Nina still couldn’t see, surrounded by mud—and he couldn’t see her. She brought her arms as high above her head as she could, but they didn’t breach the surface. He could be just feet away, but it might as well be miles.
With her last dregs of air, Nina screamed. Bubbles roiled up her face—then stopped. Water filled her mouth. She tried to scream again, but there was nothing left …
A hand clutched at her hair, her face—then grabbed her collar and pulled as Chase swam down to scoop her up. They broke the surface, Nina spitting out brown water and gasping for air. To her shock, she realized she had been on the verge of drowning less than fifteen feet from the shore.
Chase kept swimming until he was able to put his feet down, then carried Nina the rest of the way. “Are you okay?”
“Hurt my legs,” she panted. “Couldn’t swim …”
They splashed out of the lake, Nina in Chase’s arms. “Can you walk?”
She tried to move one leg, the result making her wince. “I dunno.”