The Midas Legacy (Wilde/Chase 12) (15 page)

Towards the mountain.

Those on the ledge reacted with sudden fear as the chopper veered at the cliff above them. The pilot frantically counteracted the movement, climbing and banking hard to starboard. But momentum was still carrying it closer to the looming rocks, closer—

The rotors came within inches of the cliff . . . then retreated. The Crucible swinging wildly beneath it, the AW169 lurched clear, its downwash blasting a hail of gritty debris over the ledge.

The mercenaries shielded their heads—

Eddie and Jayesh burst into action.

The Gurkha whipped both hands under the back of his coat. His kukri had been taken from him – but it was not the only blade in the scabbard. There were also two much smaller knives, a
karda
and a
chakmak
, used to hone the kukri itself to perfect sharpness. Yet they were still weapons in their own right – as Jayesh proved by stabbing them deep into each side of the neck of the inattentive guard.

The man let out a choked cry, spitting blood. Another mercenary whirled and fired, only for his comrade to take the bullet to his chest as Jayesh hauled his prey around as a human shield.

The dead man’s Kalashnikov fell from his hands. ‘Nina,
go
!’ Eddie yelled as he dived for it. He caught the weapon, rolling on landing and firing back at the attacker.

The AK-74 spat out a stream of bullets. The rifle’s fire selector was set to full auto, catching the Englishman by surprise; he hadn’t considered that the merc might actually be as amateurish as he had appeared. But the rounds still hit home, ripping a bloody swathe across his target’s torso.

Pandemonium erupted. The monks scattered, some running for cover amongst the boulders, others throwing themselves flat. A mercenary barged Amaanat aside, aiming at Eddie—

The abbot whirled – and drove the heel of his palm hard into the man’s face, breaking his nose with a wet crack.

Another merc flinched in sympathetic shock and raised his AKM, only for a lightning-fast sweep of the old man’s other arm to knock it out of his hands. But a third mercenary charged Amaanat like a bull, tackling him brutally into the snow.

Nina had followed Eddie’s instruction and taken off at a run. But she did not head for the cover of the rocks – rather, towards the cloth-wrapped Crucible.

Rudra sprang up to follow her, the anger in his eyes directed as much at the redhead as the intruders.

Eddie jumped upright, searching for new targets amidst the chaos. He found them – but some of the fleeing monks were in his line of fire, freezing the Yorkshireman’s finger on the trigger. ‘Jayesh!’ he yelled instead, racing for the rocks near the ladder.

The Gurkha started after him, bullets searing past—

One clipped his thigh. The wound was only shallow, but it was enough to make him fall. The shooter prepared to finish the job . . .

Eddie switched the selector to burst-fire mode as he scrambled behind a rock, sending a rapid three rounds at the gunman. None hit, but they served their purpose, drawing the mercenaries’ attention away from his friend.

And towards him.

Ragged splinters of stone exploded from his cover as the gunmen opened fire. He pulled back behind it and glanced around the other side, trying to locate his wife.

Nina had been ignored in the mayhem, scurrying past the mercenaries as they regrouped. She grabbed the Crucible. The geode was heavier than it looked.

Now
she searched for cover. The hut, or the cave? The latter would offer more protection, but the next burst of steam from the natural reactor couldn’t be far off. If she went inside, she would be broiled – or irradiated.

The hut. She started for it—

Someone grabbed her from behind. She gasped and spun – to find Rudra trying to claw the Crucible from her grip. ‘You cannot take it!’ he roared.

‘I’m trying to
save
it!’ she cried. ‘We can’t let them steal it!’

He wrested the shrouded sphere free. ‘You did this!’ he screamed as he shoved her away. ‘You brought them here!’

‘I didn’t—’

She stopped abruptly. Axelos had heard the altercation and realised they had the Crucible. ‘There!’ he yelled, pointing. ‘Get them, stop them!’ A mercenary took aim. ‘No!’ the Greek cried. ‘You’ll hit the—’

The man fired. Rudra took a burst of bullets to his upper chest and head. Nina screamed, feeling hot liquid splash her cheek as he fell. The Crucible thudded into the red-speckled snow.

The gunman watched with a satisfied leer as the monk crumpled, then switched targets to the American—

His own skull blew apart as three tightly spaced bullets from Eddie’s rifle struck home.

Axelos ducked and scuttled behind a boulder. He shot a look at the Crucible, but dealing with the Englishman now took priority. ‘Flank him!’ he shouted. ‘Spread out and go after him from both sides!’

‘Eddie, they’re coming for you!’ Nina cried as she checked on Rudra. The young man was dead, a hamburger-sized hole in the side of his shaven head oozing disgustingly into the snow. Horrified, she retrieved the Crucible and hurried for the hut.

Eddie heard Nina’s warning. He peeked around the rock to locate his enemies, but was forced to jerk back as a fusillade of bullets pockmarked the stone. The brief glimpse had revealed two of the mercenaries, but the flat chatter of Kalashnikovs warned him there were more closing on his position.

He switched the selector to single-shot – every bullet had to count now – and hurriedly checked his surroundings. More boulders poked from the snow behind him. He could dart between them for cover, but he would rapidly run out of manoeuvring room. The ledge thinned to nothingness against the cliff face about sixty feet away. The mercenaries would quickly pin him down.

He had to move, though. Flinders burst inches from his head as one of the attackers came around to his left. A few more seconds and he would be exposed.

Only one way out. He fired a shot to force the man back – then sprinted for the ladder.

His rush caught the mercenaries by surprise. More bullets cracked past, but he was already weaving between the last few rocks. A glance back: Nina was almost at the hut. He didn’t know how he was going to help her, but even a few seconds out of the line of fire would give him time to think up a plan.

The valley opened out before him as he reached the edge. He jumped, twisting in mid-air to grab the ladder’s top rung as he dropped past it—

His right hand snagged the corroded metal – but the other slid off the icy surface. He swung around . . . and lost his grip.

The rungs whipped past him. He clawed desperately at them, fleetingly catching one, but the coating of ice splintered into nothingness in his grasp—

Impact.

Pain exploded through his legs as he hit the lower ledge. But the momentary pause in his descent had slowed him just enough to save him from a broken bone.

He was not safe, though. A shout came from above. One of the Nepali mercenaries peered over the top of the ladder, and saw him.

Eddie rolled to flatten himself against the cliff face as several bullets smacked against the ground behind him. His own gun had landed in the snow at the ladder’s foot, but trying to recover it would get him shot. Instead he scrambled into the snowless crevice containing the steam vent. More rounds impacted on the bare stone, but there was just enough of an overhang to shield him from gunfire from above.

A low noise warned him of another danger, however. A deep grumbling sound came from the vent, slowly rising in intensity.

The cave was about to blow.

13

Eddie knew that if stayed where he was, he would either be scalded by radioactive steam or blasted off the ledge. He had to move.

The shelter—

It wasn’t much, but it was his only option. He hopped over the fallen mercury canister and ran through the thick snow to the little wooden lean-to.

He pulled the door, but it didn’t move. Frozen. He kicked at it, trying to crack the encrusted ice – then some sixth sense made him glance up. Another merc was leaning over the higher ledge, fixing him in his sights.

Eddie threw himself back against the cliff as a ragged bullet hole burst in the door. He looked up again, but a bulge in the cliff face now blocked the gunman from view. Safe, for the moment, but he couldn’t go any further without becoming a target.

He edged sideways, back to the crevice, only to see steam drifting out from the vent. No way forward, no way back: he was trapped.

And a change in the engine note of one of the helicopters warned him of a new danger.

‘He’s on the ledge below us,’ Axelos told the Mil’s pilot over the radio. ‘Move to a position where you can see him, then take him out.’ He listened with growing annoyance to the reluctant reply, the chopper’s pilot – and owner – not wanting to put himself or his aircraft in harm’s way. ‘Why do you think the man with you has a sniper rifle? Do it!’

The Mi-2 descended towards the mountain. Axelos switched his gaze to the AW169. The Crucible was still suspended beneath the larger helicopter, its pendulous swing finally slowing.

One prize was secured. But that still left the other. His boss had been very clear about wanting both.

He turned back to the cave. The smaller Crucible had gone.

The sight of the little hut’s door closing told him where the redhead had taken it. ‘You two!’ he called to the nearest of his men. ‘The woman’s in there – get her!’

The cramped shack offered no place for Nina to hide. Shelves held the equipment the monks needed to make use of the Midas Cave, but nothing more. It wasn’t even properly weatherproofed, with wide gaps between some of the planks.

And through one, she glimpsed two mercenaries hurrying towards her.

‘Shit!’ she gasped, searching for anything she could use as a weapon. There was nothing.

All she could do was run, but there was nowhere to go—

The stacked items started rattling against each other. Even over the noise of the helicopters, she heard the rising rumble from within the mountain.

Nowhere to go, but somewhere to go
past 
. . .

Clutching the Crucible, Nina burst back outside. The tunnel was filling with vapour, the sound of the impending steam blast still growing. She looked back as she ran towards it.

The mercs were gaining.

Eddie saw the Mil’s cabin door open as the helicopter swept down to hover a hundred feet from the ledge. A man leaned out.

The Englishman instantly recognised his weapon as a Russian Dragunov sniper rifle, or a Chinese copy of one. His only chance of survival was to keep moving, and hope the chopper was unsteady enough in the shifting wind to affect the mercenary’s aim—

Muzzle flash. Eddie had already darted sideways, the bullet smacking like a hammer against the rock right beside him. The rifle tracked him. This time the Yorkshireman dropped to the ground as the next round impacted where he had been standing. The mercury canister was only a few feet away; some instinct prompted him to grab it as he rolled to dodge a third shot. He wasn’t even sure why – it wasn’t as if he could throw it at the helicopter . . .

Not throw.
Shoot
.

He sprang up and dived into the crevice. Steam roiled from the vent, the angry hiss of pent-up pressure growing ever louder. A round shrilled off the rock face, but the crack in the cliff was just deep enough to block him from the helicopter’s view. He jammed the container as far as he could into the opening, then turned and crouched, waiting.

The Mil returned, hovering directly in front of the crevice. It was close enough for Eddie to see the frustration on the sniper’s face – which changed to sneering pleasure as he took aim again. He hadn’t expected his prey to be so hard to hit, but now there was nowhere else for him to go . . .

Nina kept running, but the snow was like the ground in a nightmare, bogging down each step. Another look back. The two mercenaries were at the cave mouth, guns rising—

The rumble became a roar – and a searing blast of steam consumed them.

Eddie dropped flat as the thunderous noise reached a crescendo, tugging up his hood and burying his face in the snow to protect himself. ‘Start the reactor!’ he yelled.

With the vent plugged, the first jets of superheated steam gushed out around the mercury container with the shriek of a hellish kettle – but then the pressure became too much and the blockage was blasted clear.

It shot over the Englishman like a cannon shell – straight at the helicopter.

The pilot didn’t even have time to scream before it punched through his window and hit him. The impact left little of his skull intact, the gory spray of blood and pulp mixed with shimmering quicksilver as the canister burst open. His body slumped, foot spasming on the rudder pedal – throwing the Mi-2 into a spin.

The sniper had unfastened his lap belt for greater freedom of movement, but now he was granted the ultimate freedom as he was thrown from the open door. His terrified shriek echoed off the uncaring wall of rock as he fell to the ground far below.

The helicopter kept whirling, reeling drunkenly towards the higher ledge . . .

The thunder of steam escaping the cave faded, the billowing cloud wafting upwards to reveal the two mercenaries writhing on the ground. Their faces had been scoured red-raw, horrifyingly blistered, with strips of skin hanging off as if they had been flayed alive. Airways seared shut, they couldn’t even cry out in their agony. Nina felt a pang of appalled pity, even knowing that they had been about to kill her.

The venting steam had caught the other attackers by surprise. Most had dived to the ground in panic, one man on the fringe of the blast howling in pain at a burn to his cheek.

She looked around for Eddie – and instead saw the helicopter careering towards the ledge.

A moment of shocked paralysis – then, still clutching the Crucible, she ran for the ladder. Some of the stunned mercenaries reacted as she passed, only for any thoughts of shooting her to vanish in favour of self-preservation at the sight of the spiralling aircraft. Mercs and monks alike scattered.

The shrill of the Mi-2’s engine grew louder. The chopper plunged towards Nina as if drawn by a magnet—

She screamed and dived as it swept over her, blowing up a blinding swirl of snow in its downdraught before its rotor blades hit the unyielding cliff face. The impact flung the helicopter around, slamming it hard against the cave entrance. The fuselage was smashed flat, fuel tanks rupturing—

The aircraft exploded, scattering burning debris across the ledge. One mercenary was impaled through the torso by a javelin-sized shard of rotor blade. The ageing wooden beams inside the tunnel were blasted apart, the ceiling collapsing with a pounding
boom
of falling rock.

Burning shrapnel struck Nina’s shoulder. She cried out, rolling over to extinguish the flames. Her coat was torn and singed, but the pain was more from the blow than the fire.

She recovered the Crucible and sat up to see the Gurkha nearby, his guards sprawled around him. ‘Jayesh!’ she called. She was about to tell him to head for the ladder, but he was already moving, launching himself at the nearest dazed mercenary and cracking an elbow down on the back of his head with brutal force. The man slumped into the snow. Jayesh pulled his kukri from the merc’s belt and turned towards Nina – then suddenly hurled the blade.

It whooshed just inches above her head. Before she could even be shocked, she heard a solid
chut
and a truncated scream from behind. Whirling, she saw the gunman at the top of the ladder facing her, his AK dropping from numbed hands as blood pulsed from the machete embedded in his throat. He collapsed, twitching.

‘Go! Go down!’ Jayesh ordered, before yelling more commands in Nepalese. Amaanat hurried to the cliff edge and called for his fellows to follow him.

Nina held the crystal in the crook of one arm and rapidly descended the ladder, to her immense relief finding a familiar face waiting below. ‘Eddie! Oh, thank God!’

He saw the rip in her coat. ‘Are you all right?’

‘It’s nothing. What happened to the helicopter?’

‘Things got a bit steamy. Come on, we need to move before they come after us.’ He picked up the Kalashnikov from the snow as the monks came down the ladder.

‘No bullets?’ said Nina at his grimace when he checked the magazine.

‘Not enough. Is Jayesh okay?’ Single-shot cracks from an AK at the top of the ladder gave him an answer. ‘Yep, he is. Jayesh! We’re going!’

‘So don’t wait – shift your arse!’ the Nepali called back.

‘I guess he picked up some English slang in training,’ said Nina as Eddie led her to the first of the wooden platforms.

‘Not the only thing he picked up, the dirty sod,’ the Yorkshireman said with a half-grin, before becoming completely serious. ‘We’ll have to go a lot faster than we did coming up.’ He looked back. Amaanat was now descending, Jayesh crouching above ready to come after him. Eddie aimed his rifle at the upper ledge. ‘Get going, I’ll cover you. If anyone pokes their head over the top, they’ll regret it.’ Nina nodded and started along the walkway.

Jayesh fired a last couple of rounds, then shouldered his gun and yanked his kukri from the corpse’s throat to slot it effortlessly into its scabbard. He scuttled down the ladder after the abbot. A mercenary appeared at its top, only to hurriedly retreat as Eddie shot at him. As soon as Amaanat cleared the foot of the rungs, the Gurkha let go and dropped to the ledge.

Nina moved as fast as she dared along the platforms. They had been precarious enough on the way up; now they felt little wider than a shoelace. Holding the Crucible under her left arm, she clutched at the rock with her free hand, desperately seeking out any holds.

A look back. Axelos peered from the higher ledge, but the Greek was careful not to expose himself to fire from Eddie or Jayesh.

He could see her, though. A rush of fear went through Nina as he took aim, then thought better of it. ‘Eddie!’ she called. ‘They aren’t shooting at me – they don’t want to risk losing the Crucible!’

‘Doesn’t help the rest of us,’ he countered. The monks lined up behind him at the end of the ledge, Jayesh at the rear. ‘Okay, I’ll go first so I can cover you when I reach the next ladder,’ he told them. ‘Jayesh, watch my back.’

‘They have what they came for,’ said Amaanat as the procession started along the platforms. ‘There is no need for more violence!’

‘They still want the other Crucible,’ Eddie replied. He checked behind him, to see a mercenary aiming at the pathway. He fired a single shot, driving him back – but too late. The man had already pulled the trigger. A ragged bullet wound tore open in the shoulder of the monk following the Englishman. He wailed, staggering . . . and one foot slipped over the plank’s edge. He tumbled down the mountainside, his petrified cry fading to nothingness.

Eddie watched him fall, helpless, then snapped his attention back to the clifftop. He still had five monks to protect as well as Nina. All too aware of the alarming creaks of complaint from the weather-worn wood beneath his boots, he increased his pace.

Nina reached the next ledge and found cover behind a small outcrop. Relieved, she leaned out to check on the others. Eddie was moving across the platforms at a pace that made her heart freeze, the monks filing along in his wake.

Axelos reappeared, a mercenary beside him—

‘Eddie, look out!’ she warned. Her husband twisted to fire his AK, Jayesh unleashing another couple of shots. None of the bullets found their targets, but they drove the attackers back out of sight.

He hopped from the last platform on to solid rock. ‘Keep going past me,’ he shouted to the others.

Nina headed for the ladder. ‘Why couldn’t the Atlanteans have invented cable cars?’ she muttered.

Eddie alternated his gaze between the advancing monks and the upper ledge. It seemed that none of the mercenaries were willing to put their heads above the parapet.

For now. Axelos was surely planning something . . .

The first monk reached him. ‘Come on, keep going and you’ll be safe,’ Eddie said, trying to give the fearful young man some reassurance as he squeezed past. The next monk arrived a few seconds later. ‘That’s it! Keep coming!’

A head popped into view. Axelos. Eddie locked his rifle on to him, but the Greek had already dropped out of sight. Recon; he was checking on the progress of his targets.

Preparing for an attack—

‘Everyone down! Jayesh!’ yelled Eddie, keeping his AK-74 aimed at the ledge. The Gurkha echoed his warning in Nepalese, crouching and bringing up his own gun as figures sprang up over the lip of the little plateau.

Eddie and Jayesh fired first. The Englishman’s instincts had been correct: Axelos had ordered his men to make a simultaneous assault on the fleeing group, gambling that sheer firepower would catch them. One merc reeled as a bullet clipped his arm, others hurriedly diving back into cover as rounds whipcracked past.

But the Greek’s gamble was not a complete failure. A burst of bullets chewed a line across the cliff, hitting a hunching monk in the back. He keeled over, one hand clawing feebly at the rock before he toppled from the platform.

Eddie sent a furious shot at his killer, but the merc had already ducked. The nearest monk stared at him, eyes wide in terror. ‘Come on!’ yelled the Yorkshireman, hoping the man wasn’t paralysed by fear. If he were, it would be almost impossible for the others to get around him. ‘You can do it! Now!’

The monk gritted his teeth, then to Eddie’s relief started moving. The Englishman kept his gun fixed on the ledge as the man passed. The others followed, Amaanat, then finally Jayesh. ‘You okay?’ Eddie asked the Gurkha, seeing blood on his leg.