The Tomb of Hercules_A Novel

  And Komosa’s corpse…

  He checked the timer. Three minutes.

  Less.

  Chase stood, the pain in his head surging, and unsteadily made his way across the hold. The deck was rubber beneath his feet, like walking across a slack trampoline. He suspected he had a concussion, but couldn’t afford the time to think about it. Instead, he reached up and took Komosa by the shoulders, trying to slide him off the bolt pinning him to the wall.

  Dark blood oozed glutinously from the hole in Komosa’s chest as he pulled, but the body only moved slightly. The bolt was stuck inside his rib cage.

  Nina entered the hold. “Eddie!” she gasped as she saw him manhandling the corpse. “What’re you doing?”

  “Help me get him down,” Chase said.

  “What for?” Nina began to ask, but then she saw the guns stuck through the rails separating the two sections of the bomb and realized what he had in mind. “Wait, you’re going to use him to jam the thing up? What is this, Weekend at Bernie’s?”

  “He’s all we have! Come on, give me a hand. How long’ve we got?”

  Nina checked the timer. “Two minutes!”

  She ran across the room to join him, suppressing her disgust as she took hold of one of Komosa’s arms. Chase gripped the other. “Okay,” he said, “ready, and pull!”

  They both braced their feet against the wall and leaned back, pulling as hard as they could. Komosa’s head lolled, broken mouth agape. A horrible squishing, crunching noise came from somewhere deep inside the dead man’s chest, but he remained pinned.

  “The guy’s still a pain in the arse when he’s dead!” Chase exclaimed. “Okay, pull!”

  They hauled at his arms once more, straining to break him free. The wet noise came again, this time accompanied by a drier crackling. “Come on!” Chase yelled at the body. “Come loose, you fucking great—”

  With a sharp crack of bone as the rib that had been impaled by the bolt finally snapped, Komosa jerked away from the wall and toppled over. Off balance with their feet against the wall, Nina and Chase fell with him. Nina shrieked as the huge man landed on top of her, his dead hand splayed over her face like a giant fleshy spider. She batted it aside, revolted.

  Chase kicked himself out from under the corpse, then lifted it off Nina. “Come on, we’ve only got—” He checked the timer. “Shit! We’ve only got a fucking minute!”

  They each grabbed one of Komosa’s wrists, then pulled him across the hold. Too slowly. At six feet eight of solid muscle, he was no lightweight. Nina looked over her shoulder at the timer.

  Fifty seconds …

  “Are all—his bloody piercings—made of lead?” Chase grunted between each nightmarishly sluggish step. The bomb was six feet away, five, four…

  Forty seconds …

  “Okay!” Chase gasped as the corpse finally thunked against the bomb’s solid base. “Shove his arms in above the guns—we’ve got to block at least a foot of that gap!” He crouched and grabbed one of Komosa’s hands, forcing it through the rails. Nina did the same with the other.

  Thirty …

  Chase reached around to grab Komosa’s fingers and feed his hand out through the other side of the bomb. It didn’t move.

  The Nigerian’s forearms were too thick to fit between the rails.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Chase moaned. He shifted position and gripped the dead man’s elbow, trying to shove his arm farther through the gap. Nina let go of the hand she was holding to help him.

  No luck. Only the first few inches of Komosa’s wrist would go through before his bodybuilder’s muscles wedged tight against the steel.

  Twenty …

  Nina switched her efforts back to the other arm, managing to get the hand and wrist into the gap—but nothing more. She jumped back and desperately kicked at his elbow, trying to hammer the arm in deeper, but with no success. Ten…

  “Fuckfuckfuck!” spat Chase as the timer dropped into single figures. Even with the two guns and both of Komosa’s hands obstructing the rails, it wasn’t enough to stop the uranium slug from reaching a critical distance. He needed something else, something at least four inches thick.

  But there wasn’t anything.

  Except—

  Five…

  “Get back!” Chase yelled at Nina, shoving her away from the bomb. Three, two…

  With a roar, Chase thrust his own left arm into the gap.

  One…

  Zero.

  The explosive charge beneath the uranium slug in the bomb’s base detonated. The can-size cylinder of superdense U-235 leaped upwards like a cannon shell, fire spewing out beneath it as it cleared the base and raced up the rails, hitting the bolt gun and the Browning and carrying them upwards with it.

  They hit Komosa’s dead hands, breaking bones with the force of the impact.

  And slammed them up—

  Into Chase’s arm.

  Still roaring, he had tensed every muscle to prepare for the pain he knew was about to come—but it was still beyond anything he’d imagined as his forearm was smashed against the underside of the cap. Even with Komosa’s hands cushioning the impact, both the bones in his forearm broke as the slug flew up the rails towards the waiting supercritical uranium mass …

  And stopped short.

  Just over ten inches from the cap.

  It hung there for a moment, then dropped back into the base, a doughnut of acrid smoke billowing out around it. The mangled bolt gun fell after it and clattered onto the deck—even the machined steel of the pistol had been bent by the impact.

  Komosa’s hands were a crushed and bloody mess as they slapped down on top of the broken pistol. That just left Chase.

  Eyes watering from the smoke, Nina scrambled over to him. “Eddie! Oh, Jesus, Eddie! Are you okay?”

  Face completely white, he very slowly and carefully moved his right hand between the rails to support his left wrist, then even more delicately slid both arms out. Nina clasped her hands over her mouth in horror when she saw his arm, a sharp spearhead of broken bone jutting through the mottled, purpled skin, trails of blood running from the wound.

  He whispered something, but she couldn’t make it out. “Eddie, I’m here, I’m here,” she assured him, helping him support the injured arm. “What is it?”

  He whispered again, just loudly enough for her to hear. “Now that’s … sorted … think I’ll… have a nap,” he said, before his eyes closed and his entire body went limp.

  Nina kept hold of him, protecting his arm. “You do that,” she whispered, kissing his cheek.

  She stayed like that until an emergency search team in yellow radiation suits finally found them in the hold.

  31

  Well,” said Chase as Nina helped him through the door, “it’s good to be home.”

  “I thought you didn’t like this apartment,” she said mischievously.

  “You know what? So long as you’re there, we could live in a fucking cave for all I care.”

  “Yeah, right. As long as it’s a cave with cable, I bet. Oh, by the way …” She pointed at the coat hook behind the door.

  Chase’s bruised face split into a delighted smile. “Oh, fucking awesome!” he cried on seeing the new black leather jacket hanging there. He kissed her. “Thank you. Pity I won’t be able to wear it for a while …” He held up his left arm, which was encased in a plaster cast and supported by a sling.

  “It’ll be there when you need it.”

  “Fantastic. Don’t suppose you got me a new Wildey as well?”

  She smiled. “You don’t need to compensate for anything, Eddie.”

  “Tchah!”

  She laughed and guided him to the couch.

  Six days had passed since they had been rescued from the Ocean Emperor—six days of hospital treatment and radiation exposure tests, all of which had been within safe limits … and six days of intensive questioning by Homeland Security and the FBI. The numerous agents finally convinced that they had stopped the bo
mb plot rather than been a part of it, Nina and Chase had at last been released.

  From what they’d been told, the Swiss and Algerian governments had been contacted so that Yuen’s factory and the remains of the Tomb of Hercules could be investigated. The Botswanan government had also been contacted, partly so that the uranium mine could be sealed off prior to a U.N. examination—but also, to Nina’s and Chase’s intense relief, to see that the murder charges against them were dropped.

  Also to Nina’s relief, Matt Trulli had been rescued. He had released the Wobblebug’s emergency beacon just before climbing out of the hatch, managing to don a life jacket as the submarine sank. After spending a couple of hours adrift in the Atlantic before a Coast Guard helicopter located him, the unconscious Australian had hypothermia to add to his cracked rib, but was expected to make a full recovery.

  The only loose end was Sophia. After leaving the yacht, the tilt-rotor had landed on Staten Island close to the Verrazano Narrows Bridge so she could view the explosion from a safe distance—but once it became clear that the bomb wasn’t going to go off, the aircraft took off again and headed for JFK airport. When its unusual behavior and lack of a flight plan raised an alarm with air traffic control, it had hurriedly set down on an empty plot of land not far from JFK in the outer borough of Queens and been abandoned, its passengers fleeing. Two of them were later arrested in a stolen car, but of the others—including Sophia—there had been no sign.

  She was now the subject of the biggest worldwide manhunt since Osama bin Laden. Engineering a plot to detonate a nuclear weapon in New York—and almost succeeding—had earned her the title of America’s Most Wanted.

  Chase started to put his feet up on the glass coffee table, then thought better of it, giving Nina a look. She grinned. “No, go ahead. I’ll let you off. Y’know, just this once. Seeing as you saved New York and everything.”

  He glanced down at his immobilized left arm. “Yeah, I should get a T-shirt made. ‘I saved New York and all I got was this lousy plaster cast’ …”

  Nina kissed him, then walked over to the kitchen area. “I’m sure you’ll get something more once all the secrecy clears. Do you want anything?”

  “A pint’d be nice. Although I’ll settle for coffee if you don’t have one.”

  “Coming right up,” Nina told him, taking a bag of coffee beans from the fridge.

  “Speaking of secrecy, what’s going on with the Tomb of Hercules? Have they told you if you’ll be able to take credit for finding it?”

  “I’d damn well better! Although I think it could take a while for everything to be sorted out.” She tipped the beans into the mill. “The Algerian government wants to take full control, for a start. I bet their eyes went kaching! like something from a Bugs Bunny cartoon when they heard there was a treasure trove worth billions of dollars inside their borders. The IHA might have its work cut out trying to persuade them to open up the site.”

  “Well, at least you won’t have to deal with that.” Chase glanced back at her, uncertain. “Or will you?”

  She gave him a smile as she started the grinder. “Not a chance. Right now? I’m on vacation. And so are you. And that’s an official IHA decision.”

  “I like the sound of that.” He stretched out, and was about to put his feet up when somebody knocked on the apartment door. “Oh, buggeration. Never a moment’s peace.”

  “I’ll get it,” Nina offered.

  “Nah, it’s all right,” Chase told her as he stood. “I’ll get rid of ’em. You keep grinding them beans.” He padded across the living room and opened the door—

  Sophia stood in the hallway, a gun in her hand.

  Before Chase had a chance to react, she fired.

  A metal dart stabbed into his chest. Gasping in pain, he pulled it out… only for his shaking hand to halt midmotion as the paralyzing toxin spread through his body. Spasming, he fell on his back, plaster cast clonking against the wooden floor, the dart still clutched in his raised hand.

  Sophia tossed down the dart gun and pulled a black automatic from her jacket as she slammed the door behind her. “Hello, Eddie,” she said as she stepped over him. “And Nina! I can’t say it’s a pleasure to see you again… but it will be in a minute.” She pointed the gun at Nina, summoning her out from behind the kitchen counter.

  Heart racing, Nina eyed the knife block as she passed it. “Don’t even think about it,” Sophia warned her, stepping closer.

  “What’ve you done to Eddie?” Nina demanded, looking across at Chase.

  “Don’t worry, he’s alive—for the next few minutes, at least. I wanted him to watch.”

  Nina stepped into the center of the living room. “Watch what?”

  Sophia walked towards her. “Watch you die, of course. God!” She stopped a few feet away and glanced scornfully around the apartment. “You have no idea how much I despise you, you vulgar little American bitch. I can understand why you’d have some kind of hero-worship love for Eddie, but what he sees in you, I have absolutely no idea. Even someone as low class as him deserves better.”

  “I don’t love Eddie because he’s a hero,” Nina countered. “I love him for being the man he is. Not that you’d ever understand that.”

  “Oh shut up,” Sophia sneered, raising the gun towards Nina’s face. “Eddie, I hope you can see this. I’m going to kill your little tart. What do you think about that?” For just the briefest moment, her gaze flicked sideways to look at Chase—

  Nina lunged forward.

  She grabbed Sophia’s arm with one hand as she twisted out of the line of fire, using the other to knock the gun from her grip. It hit the floor, a sharp edge gouging out a chunk of polished wood, and skidded under the coffee table.

  Momentarily startled, Sophia stared after it before looking back at Nina, a mocking smile forming. “Oh, you have been practicing with Eddie, haven’t you?” Her other hand snapped up and seized Nina’s upper arm.

  “But so did I,” she hissed, yanking Nina towards her and sweeping her right leg at the other woman’s feet.

  Nina tripped and fell to the floor, landing hard on her elbows next to the African statue. Old bruises flared with new pain. Across the room, Chase’s eyes met hers, but he was powerless to help.

  Sophia ran to the glass table, bending down to get the gun.

  Nina jumped up, needing a weapon of her own, finding one—

  Sophia’s hand had just closed around the gun when the statue cracked down across her back like a baseball bat, so hard that the head of the sculpture broke off and bounced across the room. Before Sophia could respond with anything more than a cry of pain, Nina swung the carving again, this time hitting her shoulder. Sophia staggered and fell, the gun spinning from her hand.

  Nina raised the statue, about to slam it down on Sophia’s head—

  Sophia kicked, catching Nina just above one knee and sending her stumbling backwards. Her calves braked against the edge of the coffee table and she fell onto the glass. It exploded beneath her, only her outstretched arms against the frame stopping her from landing on the broken shards.

  Clutching her shoulder, Sophia got to her feet, hunting for the gun. It was on the far side of the room, near the balcony window. She rushed for it.

  Nina painfully rolled over the side of the table’s frame and crunched down on her knees among the broken glass, blood oozing through a dozen cuts in her back. She looked for Sophia—

  She had the gun!

  Nina threw herself behind the kitchen counter as Sophia fired, three shots blasting chunks of fractured marble out of its top. She crashed against the cabinets on the back wall, the door of one popping open to reveal an assortment of cleaning products.

  She grabbed a plastic spray bottle, frantically unscrewing its cap …

  The gun raised, Sophia advanced on the counter. She saw movement behind one end and turned to fire—

  An arc of liquid flew from the end of the open bottle as Nina swung it, bleach splashing across Sophia’s chest.
The Englishwoman managed to bring up an arm to protect her face, but even diluted to act as a kitchen cleanser the chemical gave off a pungent stench strong enough to sear her nostrils, choking her. Sophia reeled, coughing and rubbing her eyes.

  Nina jumped up, looking for another weapon. She saw Chase’s Castro figurine on the counter and thought of hurling it at Sophia, then changed her mind and yanked the cord of the coffeemaker out of the wall before flinging the machine over the counter. A dark spray of coffee grounds burst from the lid as it hit Sophia’s gun arm, jolting the weapon from her grip and sending her staggering back against one of the armchairs.

  Nina snatched a large carving knife from the wooden block and ran out from behind the counter. If she could reach the gun…

  Eyes red and streaming, Sophia saw her coming and pulled the leather seat cushion from the armchair, raising it like a shield as Nina slashed the blade at her. The leather split open, sliced yellow stuffing bursting out like fat from a surgical incision.

  The gun was on the floor between them. Sophia rammed the heavy cushion against Nina’s face and upper body, knocking her back a step. Then she dropped, hand outstretched—

  Nina kicked wildly at the gun. It skidded across the room to end up a few feet from Chase.

  But he couldn’t reach it, couldn’t move anything except his eyes …

  Sophia drove a fist into Nina’s stomach, then threw the torn leather cushion hard into her face. Nina stabbed blindly with the knife as she staggered, but Sophia dodged it and clamped a hand around her wrist. She struck at Nina’s fingers with her other hand, fiercely bending them back.

  Nina screamed as joints crunched beyond their limits, nerve endings blazing. The knife dropped from her hand.

  Still twisting Nina’s fingers, Sophia brought her elbow up hard and smashed the point of the bone against Nina’s temple, twice. Dazed, Nina fell onto the chair.

  Sophia searched for the knife, but it had ended up amid the broken glass from the table. Instead she turned for the gun.

  Nina sat up, head spinning, seeing Sophia running from her.

  And beyond her was Chase. Their eyes met, just for a split second. Then he looked away, not at Sophia…