The Spear of Atlantis (Wilde/Chase 14)

by Andy McDermott

  Eddie followed, bringing Lobato with him. ‘There was a big garage at the other end of the house.’ The group entered the building. Nina paused to slam the door shut. ‘Yeah, that’ll keep them out,’ he said sarcastically, rapping the gun barrel against the glass.

  She glowered. ‘Just find the car, smartass.’

  He glanced back at the pool. Nobody had emerged from the tunnel, but it wouldn’t be long before the raiders recovered – and realised they had lost their prisoners and their prize. ‘No, I’ll need to hold ’em off until we’re ready to go. You take Lobato.’ He pushed the billionaire towards her, then surveyed his surroundings. He needed a higher position to fully cover the tunnel entrance and pool, the parked earth-mover partially blocking his line of fire. But there was a turret-like chamber directly above the dining room. Its large windows would give him an excellent vantage point, if he could reach it in time. ‘Berk, Elmas! The round room, right upstairs – how do I get to it?’

  The couple had recovered enough to protest the indignity of being carted around like wet rugs, struggling until Maximov put them down. ‘The . . . the hot tub,’ said Berk. ‘There are stairs, through there.’ He indicated the hallway just outside the dining room.

  Eddie rapidly ejected the gun’s magazine, finding it fully loaded, then reinserted it. He ran for the exit. ‘I hope you’ve got a car in your garage, ’cause we’ll need it,’ he told the Turks.

  ‘Of course we have a car!’ Elmas snapped after him. ‘We have two, an Audi and a Mercedes.’

  ‘Why am I not surprised? Start ’em up – and don’t leave without me!’ He rushed up the stairs.

  ‘Where’s the garage?’ Nina demanded.

  Berk steadied himself. ‘This way.’ He started back down the long hall, the others following.

  Eddie reached the top of the stairs, throwing open a nearby door at one end of a long landing to enter a circular room housing a large hot tub. The windows ran down to knee height, presenting anyone relaxing in the raised bath with a panoramic vista.

  He was more interested in the view over the pool. From here, he had clear line of sight – and fire – on the tunnel entrance. The raiders had not yet emerged, but he glimpsed lights moving inside the ragged opening.

  He swung a window outwards and crouched at its foot, sighting the gun at the hole. The lights went out, almost as one. They were about to move—

  Someone leaned into view, weapon readied. Eddie sent a single shot at him. The bullet smacked into the soil just above the man’s head. The Englishman instantly refined his aim, but the raider had ducked back.

  They were pinned for now, but that wouldn’t last. From what he knew of Dhajan’s intelligence agency, its operatives were well trained – in part, ironically enough, by Britain, which considered the little emirate a useful ally in the Gulf. If the situation were reversed, he would have his men take up positions flanking the tunnel mouth, ready to blast suppressing fire at the turret while someone sprinted for the shelter of the excavator. He had no doubt that al-Asim was doing exactly that.

  He readied himself for the inevitable assault.

  Berk led the way to a door. ‘The cars are in here.’ He rushed into the garage – and stopped, horrified. ‘Hassiktir!’

  ‘Whatever you just said, I agree with it,’ Nina replied. The Onans’ two large and expensive German sedans were both damaged, a line of holes in the garage doors where the raiders had swept gunfire across them. Dirty water from the Audi’s ruptured radiator trickled across the floor, and the Merc, facing the other way, was dribbling gasoline. ‘Okay, we need a new plan!’

  ‘The phones!’ Ana exclaimed, turning to the Onans. ‘We are out of the tunnel – you can call the police.’

  ‘But they will take a long time to get here,’ said Berk. ‘We will all be dead by then!’

  His wife was less defeatist. ‘I will not let anyone kill me in my own home,’ she growled, pushing past Maximov. ‘My phone is in the lounge. Come, quickly!’

  Nina followed, still holding the shimmering spearhead. ‘Oleg, Ana, go help Eddie.’ They acknowledged the order and ran back the way they had come. ‘We need to get somewhere safe while you make the call. Which room has the most shelter?’

  ‘The pantry,’ said Elmas. ‘It is the only room with no windows.’

  ‘Okay, let’s go.’ They hurried away.

  Eddie kept his eyes on the tunnel entrance, awaiting the attack—

  Guns whipped around the hole’s sides, unleashing a hail of automatic fire at him. He shot back, but was forced to drop as rounds smashed against the house’s exterior. The open window exploded, shards raining over him. ‘Jesus Christ!’

  But he knew that the Glocks, even with their extended magazines, could only sustain full-auto fire for two seconds before exhausting their ammunition. And the opening was so narrow nobody would be able to fit through until the shooting stopped. He just had to wait . . .

  The staccato stereo clatter abruptly became mono, then cut out. They were reloading—

  A man rushed through the opening and sprinted along the pool towards the excavator. The Yorkshireman tracked him, only to see a second raider hare off at a different angle. He stayed with his first target – then realised the man was unarmed, the original owner of his gun. Shit! He’d been decoyed! He hurriedly locked on to the second runner, who did have a gun, only for another double blaze of fire to erupt from the tunnel.

  More windows burst apart, wood and plaster shattering as rounds penetrated the outer wall. Eddie dropped again, but knew he was not safe. His opponents now knew exactly where he was and were concentrating their fire on his position, smashing apart his cover chunk by chunk – faster than he expected. ‘Fucking cheapskates!’ he gasped, the insult aimed at his hosts. ‘They built this place out of cardboard and Weetabix!’

  He scrabbled sideways – as a fist-sized hole blew open where his head had just been. He crawled to the next window and swung up to fire again.

  The second man was still his target. He dived as Eddie’s shots cracked tiles in his wake, rolling to flatten himself against the pool’s end wall. The Yorkshireman risked one more shot before retreating again, but it impacted harmlessly on the coping’s edge. The raider was now in full cover.

  Eddie swore, but there was nothing he could do as another fusillade ripped into the house. He heard al-Asim shout something, then a third gun, and a fourth, joined the barking chorus. The rest of the raiders were spilling out of the tunnel.

  Berk and Elmas clutched each other fearfully as they huddled with Lobato in the pantry adjoining the kitchen. But Nina’s concern as she heard bullets thud into the house was for Eddie. ‘Are they coming?’ she demanded. Elmas had been calling the police when the assault started.

  ‘Yes, yes,’ the other woman replied. ‘But it will be at least fifteen minutes before they can get to us!’

  ‘Then let’s hope Eddie can hold them off for that long!’ But Nina knew that was unlikely – and the window of survival abruptly shrank further as she heard a new noise. An engine had just started up outside.

  And it was not one of the cars.

  Eddie heard it too. Why were the Dhajanis starting the digger? He checked the magazine. About half its rounds left. Each one would have to count.

  Bent low, he scuttled to a broken side window and peeked over the sill. Below, the excavator’s lights were on. The unarmed man was in its cab, working the controls to raise the front scoop. The Yorkshireman rose higher, aiming down at him – only for a man running through the pool to fire wildly at his position.

  The shots landed close enough to make Eddie flinch back. He recovered and pulled the trigger, but the scoop was now high enough to act as a shield, the rounds ricocheting off the thick steel.

  More shots stormed up at him – and this time it wasn’t wildfire. At least two gunmen had reached flanking positions, opening fire simultaneously. Bullets tore through the walls, the few remaining windows disintegrating. Eddie dropped to the floor, but the assault
continued, swathes of lead hosing into the room.

  The streams of fire dropped lower, exploding plaster and skirting and floor tiles. The raiders knew he had fallen flat and had him pinned, closing in—

  He hurled himself into the hot tub just before the deadly barrage reached him.

  The tub juddered and rang like a great flat bell as gunfire struck it, but while it cracked and splintered, it didn’t shatter. It was ceramic rather than fibreglass, apparently the one part of the house where the Onans hadn’t skimped on materials.

  The gunfire stopped. Eddie shook off broken wood and tile, then raised his head. The room had been reduced to Swiss cheese, gaping holes in the curved outer wall and one of the supporting pillars between the windows blown almost completely apart . . .

  A loud bang, but not from a gun. The surviving plasterwork sloughed away from the damaged pillar, the concrete beneath cracking—

  The support collapsed, bringing most of the ceiling with it. Wood and concrete and slate cascaded into the room, flattening everything below.

  ‘Hold fire!’ al-Asim shouted, watching almost with glee as a section of the house imploded in a roiling dust cloud. Even if Chase had fled in time, he would be badly shaken by his narrow escape, and almost out of ammo.

  And if he hadn’t got out of the room, well . . .

  ‘What now?’ asked one of his men. ‘Move into the house and find the others?’

  Al-Asim’s gaze moved to the idling excavator. ‘No,’ he decided. ‘We drive them out to us!’

  The ceiling’s fall shook the entire building, loose items falling from the pantry shelves. ‘What was that?’ gasped Berk.

  ‘My house!’ Elmas wailed. ‘They are smashing my house!’

  ‘I don’t care about your damn house,’ said Nina. ‘I care about my husband! Eddie!’

  Ana heard Nina’s cry from downstairs as she ran for the hot tub room. ‘I’ll find him!’ she shouted.

  She reached the door, but it didn’t open. She barged it with her shoulder. It shifted slightly, enough for her to see that a fallen ceiling beam had blocked it. More debris was piled on the floor. ‘Eddie! Can you hear me? Eddie!’

  No answer. ‘Oleg!’ she shouted. ‘I need help! Eddie’s hurt!’

  Maximov had gone to the upper floor’s rear to act as lookout. His reply was muffled and distant. ‘I come to you! Where is—’

  The house shook again, more violently, as the excavator ploughed through the outer wall.

  The jolt shook Eddie back to full awareness. He opened his eyes, but saw only darkness. What had happened? He had dropped flat in the hot tub as the ceiling came down . . .

  He was still in it, broken wood and plaster around him. He tried to sit up, but something blocked him.

  He groped a hand over it. A large panel, covered in cracked plaster – part of the ceiling. He pushed at it, but it barely moved.

  The tub shuddered again, loud crashes reverberating from below. Jesus! The raiders had driven the digger into the house, and from the sound of it, they weren’t stopping. He had to get out.

  He used his phone’s screen as a light, seeing the dust-covered Glock. If his count had been accurate, it had just enough bullets left to take out all the attackers . . .

  If he ever got the chance to use it.

  He shifted, trying to lift the panel on his back. It flexed, but didn’t move. There was too much weight on top.

  ‘Shit,’ he growled. He was trapped!

  Cracks lanced through the wall beside Ana as the excavator tore through the floor below her.

  She jumped clear with a shriek as a section of the landing smashed down into the dining room. Water sprayed her from ruptured pipes. She gasped, turning to shield her eyes, and saw the whole passageway twisting, warping like a moment from a nightmare as structural supports were knocked out.

  She couldn’t help Eddie; she would be lucky to save herself. She ran for the stairs—

  The floor fell away beneath her. She dived, landing hard in the stairwell. Wood creaked, splintered . . .

  And snapped.

  The whole staircase collapsed, pitching her into the void below.

  Maximov hurried angrily through the upper floor. He had again taken a wrong turn, somehow going in a circle. Retracing his steps, he reached what he hoped was the right door and charged through it. ‘Ana! I am—’

  It was not the hallway he expected, but a room sparsely populated by fitness equipment. He stopped, looking with rising frustration for another exit but finding none. ‘What is wrong with this fucking house?’ he growled, turning back to the door—

  A tremor almost pitched him to the floor. Plaster sheared from the ceiling as a fearsome crack of overstressed wood came from above. He looked up – then flung himself back in fright as a hefty wooden beam crashed down in front of the door.

  A shelf broke loose, spilling its contents over the pantry’s occupants. Lobato yelped as a jar struck him.

  ‘We’ve got to get out of here,’ Nina said. ‘The whole damn house is about to fall down!’

  ‘If we go out, they will kill us,’ Berk protested.

  ‘Two tons of roof’ll kill you as dead as a bullet.’ She peered into the kitchen. The excavator’s rumble and crash was getting louder, but she couldn’t see any of the raiders. She gripped the spearhead, readying herself for action. ‘Nobody here. Okay, I’ll—’

  An earsplitting crunch of rending drywall and cinderblock – and the excavator’s scoop burst through the kitchen wall like a steel fist. The rest of the machine followed a moment later, pulverising the countertop and crushing the oven beneath its tracks. Gas hissed from ruptured pipes.

  ‘Holy shit!’ Nina cried as the vehicle ground towards their hiding place. ‘Get out, go! Now!’

  She and Lobato rushed into the kitchen, Berk pulling the horrified Elmas with him. The earth-mover snarled almost triumphantly as its headlight beams found them. The driver yanked at the control levers, bringing it around to chase its prey as they ran through the nearest door.

  Nina found herself in a room she hadn’t seen before, containing a long table with ornate chairs around it. ‘How many damn dining rooms do you need? Come on, quick!’

  She ran for the exit, the others following—

  The excavator ploughed through the wall behind them. Flying masonry hit Lobato’s leg. He cried out and fell into the machine’s path.

  Elmas screamed – but her husband lunged back and dragged the billionaire clear just before the tracks crushed him. Lobato’s fallen glasses were not so lucky. They disappeared under one of the steel belts with a faint tinkle of crushed glass.

  Berk pulled the slender man upright, then grabbed his wife and ran with them after Nina. ‘Thank you!’ Lobato gasped.

  Berk’s expression was one of startled shock – not so much at Lobato’s near-death as at the fact that he had put himself in danger to rescue him. ‘No – no problem!’ he stammered.

  Nina reached the door, opening it to find the main hall beyond. She looked back as the excavator smashed the dining table to splinters. ‘Split up!’ she shouted. ‘It’s me they’re after – and the spearhead!’

  She waited for Lobato and the Onans to catch up, then rushed out into the hall. The twin staircases curved upwards, but even though she was desperate to find and help Eddie, ascending would limit her options for escape. Instead, she sprinted to a door at the hall’s rear, while her hosts headed across it into the other wing of the house. Lobato hesitated, blinking at his blurred surroundings, then doubled back into the hallway leading to the pool.

  A shout came from behind Nina as she reached the new exit. The excavator’s driver was calling out to his comrades.

  They were coming for her.

  She flung the door open and ran through, just as a man rushed out of the dining room. He saw her and raised his gun—

  Nina slammed the door and dived sidelong as bullets blew holes through the wood. One of the spearhead’s pointed ends jabbed painfully into her chest
, the other jarring against the floor. She gasped, but jumped back up, more worried about damage to the artefact than herself. If it broke and the antimatter was released . . .

  It seemed intact. Relieved, she looked around. Elmas and Berk obviously fancied themselves as musicians; the room was dominated by a white grand piano, a cello on a stand nearby. Nina was only interested in the exit in the far wall, however. She ran for it.

  The bullet-riddled door burst open behind her. The gunman rushed in and fired.

  She shrieked and threw herself under the piano, skidding along the marble floor on her front with the spearhead in her outstretched hands. Rounds slammed into the instrument above her, playing a cacophonous tune as they shattered keys and severed strings.

  The raider aimed lower, chipping the floor and shredding the piano’s rear leg—

  Nina kicked it as she scrambled past. The damaged support gave way, the piano’s end hitting the floor with a monstrous chord that almost deafened her. But the noise staggered the gunman too, the gunfire stopping just long enough for her to reach the exit. He fired again, a wild spray of shots picking out a new melody on the wrecked instrument before hitting the door, but she was already gone.

  The man’s magazine was empty. He angrily ejected it, slotting in a replacement as he pursued her.

  34

  Lobato hobbled down the hallway towards the exit to the pool. It ran behind the kitchen, which the Emir’s men had already searched – or rather, destroyed, but the result was the same – so in his mind they were unlikely to return. If they were all in the house, he might be able to escape downhill—

  The excavator smashed through the wall behind him. He shrieked and started to run, only for his injured leg to buckle. He fell.

  The menacing machine pivoted like a tank to face him. Diesel fumes spewed from its exhaust, filling the passage with a foul fog.

  The billionaire struggled upright and desperately limped along the hall. The excavator snarled after him. The passage was just wide enough to accommodate it, though the tracks’ edges carved into the walls whenever the driver failed to keep it in a straight line.