King Solomon''s Curse

  ‘Since you murdered their leader, the only way you and your friends will get past the Insekt Posse alive is under my protection. The Shamir for your lives seems like quite a good deal.’

  ‘At the cost of a lot more lives.’

  ‘Obviously they wouldn’t get to keep it. A weapon that powerful needs to be held by the right hands.’

  She cocked her head. ‘By which you mean yours.’

  ‘It would absolutely be in Britain’s best interests to control it, so yes. And you’re going to help me do so, Chase. You took the oath of allegiance when you joined the army, and I don’t believe that a man like you would let it slide after you left.’

  Eddie frowned at him. ‘What’s my oath got to do with this?’

  ‘The last clause, specifically. Your promise to “obey all orders of Her Majesty, her heirs and successors and of the generals and officers set over me.” As a senior officer of the Secret Intelligence Service on an operation fully authorised by Her Majesty’s Government, I am such an officer. Whether you dislike me personally or consider what I’m doing repugnant is irrelevant. My mission has been deemed vital to the national interest – so you will help me accomplish it. That’s an order, Chase.’

  Eddie was still and silent for a moment . . . then brought up his free hand in a mocking salute. ‘Yes sir, sir, lickety-split, sir!’ he said with exaggerated enthusiasm, before snorting. ‘Fuck off, Brice. I’m not a soldier any more.’

  ‘Nor was your friend Colonel McCrimmon after he retired from the SAS. But he still served his country by working for us – and obeying our orders.’

  The mention of Mac served only to anger Eddie still further. ‘Mac would never have followed orders to do what you’re doing here. And you’re not a real officer, whatever MI6 calls you. I’m not going to help you start a war.’

  The spy narrowed his eyes. ‘Then you’re a traitor,’ he said, the words oozing venom. ‘An enemy of the state. And I can assure you that if by some miracle you get out of this place alive, you’ll be treated as such. You’ll never see your daughter again.’

  Eddie snapped up the gun, his face turning to stone. ‘Last time someone threatened my little girl, I killed him.’

  ‘I’m not threatening her. I’m making a promise to you. Obviously I’ll deny everything I’ve told you both, but I still have no intention of letting you spread any rumours about SIS’s involvement in DR Congo. The Removal Men will be called in – and their targets will be you. I doubt you’d even make it past the border.’

  The Yorkshireman’s expression remained cold . . . then, to both Nina’s and Brice’s surprise, he smiled. ‘Funny thing about rumours. They stop being rumours if they become fact.’

  ‘Meaning what?’ the agent asked suspiciously.

  ‘Meaning . . . smile! You’re on Candid Camera.’ Eddie tipped his head towards one of the windows.

  Brice and Nina turned to look. Nothing was visible in the darkness – until a small red light flashed. Brice stiffened as he realised what it was. ‘You little shit,’ he muttered.

  ‘While you were droning on,’ Eddie continued, his grin widening, ‘we were just drone-ing. I thought it’d be a good idea to get whatever dodgy crap you had to say on tape, and I was right.’

  The other man whirled back to him. ‘You’re bluffing. That thing won’t have a microphone.’

  ‘Howie? If you can hear me, come a bit closer and give us a dance.’

  A pale shape took on form outside as it approached the spill of illumination from the lanterns. Rotors whispering, the quadcopter stopped outside the chamber, wagging from side to side before retreating again. ‘Modern technology,’ said Eddie. ‘Innit great? Everything you said’s been recorded on a laptop. Soon as we get somewhere with an internet connection, boop – it’ll be in the inbox of every news service in the world. It’s not the first time I’ve done something like this.’

  ‘That recording would be a hell of a thing to show to the United Nations,’ said Nina. ‘Or the US! You just confessed to destroying an American airliner, with the approval of the British government. That’s an act of terrorism – an act of war.’

  Brice tried to conceal his concern, eyes flicking upwards as if seeking help from on high. ‘They wouldn’t believe it,’ he said. ‘And even if they did, they wouldn’t act upon it. It would wreck the special relationship between Britain and the US.’

  ‘I think you already did that when you wrecked a fucking plane,’ Eddie told him sarcastically. ‘But anyway, how about we make you an offer? You said you could get us out of here without the militia killing us. Do that, for all of us, and we’ll make sure that video doesn’t pop up on everyone’s Facebook feed. Obviously we’ll keep a copy, or twenty. Just in case anyone really does think about sending some boys from the Increment after us.’

  ‘The what?’ asked Nina.

  ‘MI6 crossed with SAS. You don’t want to meet ’em if you’re not on their side. But we’re not going to meet ’em. Are we, Brice?’

  ‘The Increment are the least of your worries at the moment,’ said the other Englishman. He now seemed tense, almost anxious, again glancing up at the ceiling. ‘I may not be able to hold the Insekt Posse back once they find out you killed Mukobo.’

  ‘Well, you’d better try, hadn’t you? ’Cause I doubt they’d be too happy to see the guy who let their leader get shot by another Brit. They might even think we were working together.’

  ‘I highly doubt that.’

  ‘Oh, I’ll make sure to tell ’em.’

  Brice said nothing for several seconds, thinking. ‘Okay. There’s another option,’ he said at last. ‘Even with Mukobo gone, the secession still has a chance of success as long as they have a supply of weapons. The militia outside know I was going to provide them. I can use that as leverage to keep us all alive long enough to get out of the jungle. Once we’re clear, I’ll arrange for my contacts to extract us on the sly.’

  Nina had stood back while the two men had their discussion, but now started to feel uneasy. It wasn’t until Brice yet again flicked his gaze upwards – unconsciously, it seemed – that she realised why. ‘Eddie, something’s wrong,’ she said. ‘He’s waiting for something.’

  ‘The only thing I’m waiting for is your accepting the one chance we all have of escaping from here,’ said Brice curtly.

  She shook her head. ‘No, there’s something else. I mean, you know you’re still being filmed, right?’ She waved at the windows. Beyond them, the drone dipped in response. ‘You just said you’re going to screw over the militia the first chance you get. Why would you do that if you know they might find out? For that matter . . .’ She paused, worried.

  Eddie stepped back to join his wife, keeping the revolver fixed upon Brice. ‘Uh-oh. What is it?’

  ‘He’s a spy. More than that, he’s deep undercover to give his bosses plausible deniability. So . . . why would he tell us anything about the true nature of his mission? I mean, isn’t the first rule of spy craft that you never talk about what you’re doing?’

  ‘I think that’s Fight Club.’

  ‘Yeah, you just keep on quippin’, Roger Moore,’ she snipped. ‘But either everything he’s told us is another lie, or . . .’ Dread rose as the only other possibility became clear. ‘Or he felt safe telling us the truth, because he doesn’t think we’ll live long enough to pass it on.’

  ‘I’m here to offer a deal that’s mutually beneficial, that’s all,’ insisted Brice. ‘I want to get away as much as you do.’

  ‘No, she’s right,’ said Eddie. ‘All you care about is completing your mission – which means we have to be dead so we can’t fuck it up by telling anyone.’ He glanced at the drone. ‘And everyone else with us has to be dead too, so that recording can’t ever get out. What’re you waiting for, then? You keeping us occupied so the militia can set up an attack?’

  ‘Your men are in a well
-defended position with a clear line of fire. A direct assault on that entrance would be suicide without grenades and explosives – which the rabble who came with me don’t have.’

  Eddie knew Brice was right – but was now as convinced as Nina that he had come to them as a distraction from some larger plan. ‘I think we should get back to the others,’ he told her. ‘Brice, get moving.’

  The spy’s hesitation told him that Brice was exactly where he wanted to be. ‘I’m telling you, the only way out of here is with my help. I—’

  The Yorkshireman stepped closer. ‘Move. Now. Or you can stay down here with Mukobo, permanently.’

  ‘All right, all right.’ Brice raised his hands higher and started towards the exit. ‘But you really should take my offer.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Because if it expires, then so will you—’

  A thunderous explosion shook the chasm – and daylight streamed in from above.

  23

  Nina and Eddie reacted in shock at the detonation. Brice, however, had clearly expected it to happen, but not known exactly when. He flinched – then recovered and ran for the windows.

  Eddie’s revolver tracked him—

  Something smashed down on the building with such force that the ceiling split apart. Brice dived behind the altar, Eddie whirling to shield Nina from flying debris. More impacts came from outside as falling stones hit the bottom of the cavern.

  The Yorkshireman looked up – to see Brice vault through a window. ‘Nina, you okay?’

  ‘Yeah,’ she gasped. There was a gaping hole in the ceiling, broken stone scattered beneath it. She saw the remnants of a carved eagle on one piece of rubble. ‘Oh my God, they blew open the palace roof!’

  Eddie ran to the window. The darkness outside had been pierced by an eerie shaft of grey light – picking out Brice running for the mine. He raised his gun, but the other Briton leapt into the excavations as he fired. The bullet shattered against the vein of greenish stone with an almost musical clang. ‘Shit!’

  Nina hurried to him, but the escaping spy was not her greatest concern. ‘Eddie, listen!’ The Mother of the Shamir glinted in the first natural light to reach it for thousands of years – and its constant, unsettling hum changed.

  Growing louder.

  ‘We should get the hell out of here,’ she said, alarmed. ‘Remember what happened to Zhakana when they dug this place out? I think it’s going to happen again!’

  ‘Brice is still down there,’ Eddie snapped.

  ‘Yeah, and we’ll be stuck here with him if we don’t move. That thing’s charging up, just like the Shamir – only it’s way bigger!’

  He got her point, reluctantly retreating. A voice reached them as they emerged into the chasm. ‘Nina! Eddie!’ shouted Howie.

  Nina looked up to find the young man on a bridge. ‘Get up to the surface!’ she cried. High above him, she saw an elongated hole had been blasted in the palace’s vaulted roof.

  ‘Those rocks took out my drone!’ Howie told her.

  ‘You’ve got the recording, haven’t you?’ demanded Eddie.

  The American held up his laptop. ‘Yeah, but—’

  ‘Guard it with your fucking life! It’s the only proof of what’s been going on here! Now move!’

  Clutching the computer, Howie ran up the bridge. ‘We’ve got to get up there fast,’ Eddie told Nina as they hared up the stairway. ‘If they rope down from that hole, they’ll be able to attack from both sides – shit!’ The sharp retort of an explosion echoed down from above. ‘That was a grenade! They must’ve called in reinforcements.’

  ‘What, so now we’re even more outnumbered?’ Nina said unhappily. ‘Great!’

  The sound of gunfire reached them – Kalashnikovs on single shot against similar rifles on full auto. Another grenade exploded, the detonation ringing through the tunnels. Now the militia had explosives, it would take more than a few boulders to form a defensible position – and Eddie wasn’t even sure if there was anywhere inside the palace that could be defended.

  They had to try, though. He and Nina hurried across the lowest bridge. He glanced down – and saw Brice climbing from the mine. He couldn’t spare the time to take a shot at him, though. ‘Buggeration and fuckery!’

  Nina looked to see what had drawn his ire. She spotted the British agent – but then saw something else, newly revealed in the light from on high. A faint mark on the rock, perfectly level, ran all the way around the chasm’s walls just above the upper tier of buildings. Water, she realised; the residue of flooding, long-drained. But had it escaped naturally over time, or . . .

  The thought was interrupted by another gunshot – from overhead. Howie yelped in fright as a bullet struck the cliff near him.

  Silhouettes appeared in the hole in the roof. More shots cracked downwards. ‘Whoa!’ Nina gasped as a round whipped past. ‘Now what do we do?’

  ‘Get into cover,’ Eddie said. They reached the next ascending ledge cut into the rock face, the overhang partially shielding them. He flattened himself against the wall and sidestepped upwards, Nina following. ‘Dunno how the fuck we’ll—’

  He broke off as a rope dropped from the hole and uncoiled into the buildings below. It fell still – then juddered as someone began to climb down it.

  Eddie leaned out to see a militia man with an AK slung over his back making a clumsy descent. A second rope made the long fall from the hole’s other end. ‘That bastard Brice,’ he growled as he continued upwards. ‘He was just buying time for them to plant the explosives and get ready for an assault!’

  A shout came from the uppermost ledge. ‘Eddie!’ cried Ziff. ‘Nina! They’ve broken in!’

  ‘Yeah, I noticed!’ the Yorkshireman shouted back. ‘You got ammo left?’

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘So bloody use it!’

  The Israeli took the hint, aiming at the first of the descending men. He hesitated when he found his target, the Congolese completely defenceless as he lowered himself, but the sight of both the Kalashnikov on his back and a savage machete hanging from his belt brought home the threat. Ziff fired, sending the man screaming to the rocky ground far below.

  The second man hurriedly wound his rope around one wrist before fumbling for a pistol with the other. Ziff took aim – only to duck behind a wall as someone on the roof sprayed shots at him.

  One shattered a cask of oil, splashing its contents across the ledge – and igniting them. The archaeologist gasped, scrambling out of cover to escape the flaming liquid.

  The man on the rope brought up his handgun—

  Two bullet holes burst open in his chest as Paris rushed from the passageway, his rifle propped in the crook of his right arm. The militia man tumbled after his late comrade, smacking on to the roof of a building below.

  Ziff found less fiery cover. ‘Good shot,’ he told his rescuer.

  The scruffy little man gave him a dark smile. ‘I’m left-handed.’

  Fortune emerged from the passage, firing two shots at the ruptured roof. One struck a sagging block at the hole’s edge – and the other a man lying on top of it, smashing his shoulder. He shrieked, flopping face down as his arm gave way – and the jolt caused the lead sheet supporting the stone to split. The carved block fell away, the wounded man following it into the darkness below.

  The other Insekt Posse around the opening hurriedly withdrew as more stones ground ominously against each other. ‘They’re pulling back!’ Fortune shouted.

  The documentary team arrived behind him. Rivero was still filming, Lydia equally unwilling to abandon her own equipment. ‘That’s not gonna help us!’ the cameraman objected. ‘There’s no way out of here!’

  Eddie halted at the end of a bridge, assessing the situation. The militia above had retreated, but would come back the moment they realised the remaining blocks were holding in place. ‘Fortune! How many behind you?’
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  ‘At least ten,’ the African replied.

  ‘How long before they catch up?’

  Even from a distance, he could see Fortune’s gold-tinted smile. ‘It could be some time. We reset the traps.’

  ‘At least two guys got squashed in the first one,’ Paris added.

  ‘Best thing to do to an Insekt,’ said Eddie. ‘But if we can’t go back that way, I don’t have a fucking clue how we’re going to get out. Short of climbing those ropes,’ he gestured at the two dangling lines, ‘and it’s a long-arse climb!’

  ‘Eddie, wait,’ Nina said urgently. ‘There might be another way out!’ She pointed at the bottom of the chasm. ‘The drainage tunnels come out on the cliff, above the river – the waterfalls are fed by them.’

  ‘Maybe, but there’s one little problem – they’re full of water! And the waterfalls are fifty, sixty feet high. The fall’d kill us.’

  ‘I think there are more tunnels, higher up.’ She indicated the tide mark. ‘There, you see?’

  Eddie peered down. Beyond the upper tier of buildings was a patch of blackness that could have been a tunnel entrance – or nothing more than a shadowed recess. ‘If it’s higher up in the cave, it’ll come out even higher on the cliff.’

  ‘I know, it’s a risk. But if we stay in here, sooner or later we’ll run out of bullets – and then they’ll massacre us.’

  ‘Okay, we’ll try it,’ he reluctantly said, before shouting: ‘Get down to the village! There might be a way out through the drainage tunnels!’

  ‘Might be?’ wailed Lydia.

  ‘You can bloody stay here if you want! But it’s the only chance we’ve got.’

  ‘He is right,’ Fortune said firmly. ‘Everyone, across the bridge. Quickly!’

  Panting, Howie reversed direction. ‘Great, just . . . ran all the way up here, now gotta . . . run all the way back down!’

  ‘What about Brice?’ Nina asked Eddie as they hurried back. ‘He’s still down there.’

  Her husband hefted the revolver. ‘If I see him, I’ll shoot him. Pretty simple.’