The Spear of Atlantis (Wilde/Chase 14)

by Andy McDermott

  It was his watch, Eddie saw as it clacked magnetically into place on its band, the razor-like blades retracting. Al-Asim jumped up, pulling the bizarre device free again and holding it by the wire as he whirled it like a bolas – or rather a perdida, the single-weighted variation of the throwing weapon. The blades popped back out with a snick.

  Eddie’s hand closed around wood: part of a broken chair. He snatched it up as the perdida swung at his head. It smacked against the chair leg, spitting splinters into his face, but the blades buried themselves in the wood. ‘Gotcha!’ he crowed, dropping his makeshift shield as he went for the gun.

  Another snick, al-Asim touching a button on the watch band – and the blades retracted again, the perdida falling free. He jerked his arm back, the wire winding in with a faint whine like a fishing reel, only to shrill out again as he snapped the weapon back at his target.

  It struck Eddie’s head with a crack just as his hand found the Glock, the gun falling to the floor. The blow was like being struck by a cricket ball – the weapon was small but heavy. He fell against the excavator. Only al-Asim’s lack of time to unfurl the blades had saved him from being stabbed in the skull.

  Al-Asim recalled the perdida and spun it from his hand once more. He extended the blades, winding up to deliver a deadly strike—

  A loud bang from above – and a burning beam smashed down between the two men.

  Rubble followed it. The ceiling was about to collapse. Eddie retreated, expecting another attack. To his surprise, he saw that the Dhajani had withdrawn – but he had snatched up the spearhead as he went. Al-Asim shot Eddie a victorious look, then ran through the doors to the swimming pool, shouting commands into a walkie-talkie.

  The blazing debris prevented Eddie from following directly, and more was coming down around him. The hot tub shattered as a falling marble slab struck it edge-on like an axe. He leapt aside as broken pieces crashed to the floor, then hurriedly scrambled over the rubble until he was clear of the flames. He vaulted through a broken window into the open.

  ‘Eddie!’ Nina cried, hurrying to him. ‘They’ve got the spearhead!’

  ‘I know!’ he shouted. The helicopter had touched down on the drive, rotors whirling just below take-off speed as al-Asim climbed aboard with his prize. More Dhajani agents emerged from the burning house. ‘Keep down!’

  He and Nina both ducked, but the raiders were no longer concerned with them, instead piling into the chopper. Some of the men were injured, their comrades helping them, but all had survived the conflagration.

  Whether the same was true of his friends, Eddie didn’t know. He looked back at the house, spying Ana and Lobato behind the patio wall, but there was no sign of Maximov or the Onans. ‘Where’s Max – and those two yuppie arseholes?’

  ‘Oleg saved me,’ Nina told him, ‘but his ankle’s broken. He was in the big lounge with the Atlantean marker stone; I don’t know where Berk and Elmas are.’

  The helicopter’s engines roared, the aircraft taking off and immediately wheeling towards Sanliurfa. In the distance beyond it, Eddie saw flashing lights. ‘Cops are coming.’

  ‘Great,’ Nina replied, ‘but we don’t need the police – we need the fire department!’ She reacted in alarm as she saw how far the fire had spread. ‘Oh my God, Eddie! Oleg’s still in there!’ Flames were coming out of the ground-floor windows beyond the main entrance.

  ‘No way a fire engine’ll get here in time,’ he said grimly. He started to run up the slope. ‘We’ll have to make our own.’

  His wife followed him. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Here!’ He reached the water bowser, a large tank on wheels that could be towed like a trailer. ‘Help me move it!’

  A length of lumber acted as a chock under the wheels. Eddie kicked it away. He banged a fist on the bottom of the tank, making a dull thud, then again higher up with the same result. ‘It’s got water inside. Just hope it’s enough.’ He went to the rear, where there was a large valve. ‘I’ll get this open, then we push!’

  He hauled at the valve wheel. It creaked, reluctant to turn . . . then suddenly water sprayed out with enough force to make him stagger back, soaked. ‘Okay, come on!’

  Nina took up position on one side of the tank as he shoved at the other. The sheer weight of water had made the wheels settle into the ground. ‘It’s stuck!’

  ‘Pull it back!’ He hauled at the chassis, rocking the bowser, then pushed again. Nina added her own weight, and at last the wheels jolted free of the ruts.

  The tanker rolled down the slope, slowly at first but with increasing speed. ‘Uh, I don’t think we’ll be able to stop it,’ Nina said.

  ‘I don’t want it to stop,’ Eddie replied, still pushing. ‘We need to get it into that lounge, and there’s a wall in the way!’

  ‘Yeah, but Oleg’s on the other side!’

  ‘He won’t be any worse off unless this thing actually squishes him.’ A section of roof collapsed, a volcanic gush of sizzling embers spewing from the hole. Eddie applied more force, adjusting the bowser’s course. ‘Come on! Keep pushing!’

  Nina did so. The water tanker rolled across the driveway, passing the bullet-riddled BMWs and careering towards the wall. The flames rose ever higher through the broken windows, the heat now reaching them. ‘Eddie!’

  He grimaced. ‘Keep going, keep going – okay, let go!’

  Nina scrambled back, Eddie giving the valve a final twist before stumbling to a halt. The bowser rumbled on, water spouting from its rear – and smashed through the wall.

  Fire erupted through the hole, only for the blaze to shrink back from the tanker as gallons of water sluiced over it. Loud crashes came from inside the house as it ploughed on, demolishing furniture before burying itself in an interior wall. Arms raised to shield his face, Eddie ran inside.

  His aim had been accurate; he saw Maximov lying in the wreckage, ankle snapped. The escaping water had driven the spreading fire away from him, but flames were swelling outside the arc of spray.

  ‘Nina!’ he yelled, running to the downed Russian. ‘Help me!’ His wet clothes would not protect him for long.

  Nina came to the opening, regarding the flames fearfully, but took a deep breath and ran to her husband. Maximov was unconscious but alive; the two men he had sent over the balcony had decided survival was more important than revenge.

  Eddie strained to lift the huge man. ‘We’ll have to drag him.’

  ‘What about his foot?’

  ‘Just hope it doesn’t come off!’

  Together they hauled at the Russian. Maximov weighed well in excess of two hundred and ninety pounds, and it was all dense muscle. For a moment it seemed his wounded foot was going to stay put as the rest of him moved, but then it came free from the rubble with a nauseating little crackle of bone. Nina almost retched.

  They pulled him towards the opening. The bowser was running low, the spray’s pressure dropping fast. Terrifying creaks and groans came from the burning ceiling. ‘It’s coming down!’ she cried.

  ‘Nearly there!’ Eddie grunted as he brought the huge man through the broken wall.

  A crack like a thunderbolt exploded above them – and the roof gave way, the central beam plunging down into the lounge. Joists and tiles fell with it, masonry exploding like grenades against the floor.

  Nina and Eddie had just got Maximov outside, but the impact still knocked them both down. Eddie yelled as he took a painful blow to his legs, then felt burning. He kicked away a chunk of burning timber and hurriedly patted out the flames scorching his already dry jeans. ‘Nina!’

  His wife had been hit by a chunk of tile, her short hair glistening with blood from a nasty gash in her scalp. She put a hand to the wound. ‘Aah! Jesus!’

  ‘We’re not safe,’ he warned, struggling upright. More crashes came from the burning house as its internal walls gave way. ‘Grab Max!’ Maximov’s clothes, and even his beard, were smouldering where flaming motes had landed on him. Eddie swatted them off, then with Nina
’s help hauled the big man clear of the building.

  Nina put him down with relief. ‘Holy crap,’ she said, looking back. Fires now burned throughout the house’s length, the remaining windows shattering in the heat. A flat whumph came from the garage as the leaking petrol tank ignited – followed by a blast that ripped the doors from their frames as both cars blew up. ‘Oh my God! Elmas and Berk, what if they’re still inside?’

  ‘They’re not,’ Eddie said with exhausted relief. The Onans had staggered zombie-like over an earth bank, staring in horror at the remains of their home.

  ‘Eddie!’ Ana cried. They both turned to see Lobato supporting her as they limped closer.

  ‘I told you to stay with her!’ the Englishman shouted at the billionaire. ‘She’s got a fucking bullet wound, why did—’

  ‘I told him to,’ Ana gasped. ‘I had to . . . see you were . . . all right.’ She saw Maximov. ‘Oh! Is he . . .’

  ‘He’s alive,’ Nina told her. ‘His leg’s broken, but I think he’ll be okay.’ She glanced back at the Russian. ‘Although that’s not disturbing or anything.’ Even unconscious, his face bore a demented smile. ‘He must really have gotten hurt.’

  Lobato squinted at him. ‘But he is smiling.’

  ‘Long story,’ said Eddie brusquely, pushing him aside to check Ana’s wound. ‘Here, sit down.’

  He helped her to the ground, leaving Lobato to stand in awkward bewilderment. Nina noticed that he kept glancing at his bloodied hands as if desperate to remove and discard them. She went to him. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘I . . . No,’ he mumbled, before giving her a curious look. ‘After everything that has happened, you are still concerned for me? Or are you merely being polite?’

  ‘I’m being a human,’ she replied. ‘You know, caring about other people? You should give it a try.’

  He clenched his lips. ‘I suppose I deserved that.’

  Elmas and Berk arrived. ‘Our house!’ the Turkish woman cried, tears rolling down her face. ‘What have you done to our house?’

  ‘I am . . . very sorry,’ Lobato told them, taking Nina’s point to heart. ‘But I will see to it personally that everything is rebuilt exactly as it was.’

  The Onans stared at him for a moment . . . then Elmas rushed to embrace him, while Berk grabbed his hand and shook it with tearful enthusiasm. ‘Sen bizim kahramanimiz! Oh, thank you, thank you!’ Lobato bit his lip, clearly uncomfortable with the unwanted physical contact but forcing himself to endure it.

  ‘It won’t be exactly as it was,’ Nina pointed out. ‘For a start, there’s a major archaeological site right there.’ She indicated the swimming pool. ‘And you won’t get to keep your centrepiece, either.’ She looked back at the remains of the lounge. The Atlantean marker stone set into the chimney breast was, ironically, the only thing that had survived intact.

  ‘The spearhead!’ Lobato said, finally squirming loose from the Onans. ‘The Emir’s men have it!’

  ‘We know where they’re taking it,’ Nina told him. ‘Your facility in Dhajan.’

  ‘They won’t keep it there long,’ said Eddie. ‘Not if they can’t stop it from blowing up.’

  Lobato faced Nina. ‘Will they be able to stabilise it there?’

  ‘You’re asking me?’ she protested. ‘I don’t know! The inscriptions said it would explode in less than a day unless it was returned, which suggests there’s an earth-energy confluence point here. The vault must channel it somehow and keep the spearhead stable. Unless there’s another confluence point at your solar power station, which would be a pretty damn big coincidence, they won’t be able to stop whatever contains the antimatter from decaying.’

  ‘So it will explode,’ said Lobato. ‘Then either they will damage their own country . . .’

  ‘Or they’ve got somewhere else in mind to let it go off,’ said Eddie. He finished his examination of Ana’s wound. ‘I can’t do anything else with it here. You’ll live, but you need to get to a hospital.’

  Although she was breathing heavily, Ana managed a feeble smile. ‘I hope . . . I have paid my debt for . . . what I did to you both.’

  ‘I’ll be the judge of that,’ Eddie said, feigning coldness before cracking a grin to tell her he was joking. ‘We need to get Max to hospital as well. I doubt he’ll be running any marathons for a while.’

  ‘He’ll be lucky to walk for a while,’ said Nina, regarding Maximov’s broken ankle with a shudder. ‘Okay, so: al-Asim is taking the spearhead to Dhajan. What can we do about it?’

  ‘Can the UN get involved?’ asked Eddie.

  She shook her head. ‘Dhajan’s a sovereign country. Normally you’d get the diplomats to talk to its ruler . . . but in this case, the ruler’s behind the whole thing! And if any of the other countries they’ll pass over en route to Dhajan stop their plane, the spearhead will explode while it’s on the ground. Unless it’s brought back here – which opens up a whole new can of worms, because I definitely don’t want to give the Turkish government a free antimatter bomb.’

  ‘Then we have to get to my facility in Dhajan,’ Lobato said. ‘We know the spearhead will be there, at least for a time. And it is the only other place where it may be possible to stabilise it.’

  ‘Maybe,’ said Nina, ‘but there’s a slight problem. We can’t just hop in your private jet and fly to Dhajan! The Emir’s people would arrest us the second we landed.’

  ‘There might be another way in, though,’ Eddie said thoughtfully. He looked towards Sanliurfa. The police cars were now only minutes away. ‘Soon as we get the chance, I’ll make a phone call . . .’

  36

  Saudi Arabia

  ‘There he is,’ said Eddie, looking out from Lobato’s taxiing jet to see a middle-aged Arab man waiting beside a Toyota Land Cruiser.

  Nina didn’t recognise him. ‘Who is he?’

  ‘Abdul Rahji. Saudi secret service; met him in Mecca.’

  Lobato, wearing new glasses, blinked curiously at him. ‘You are not a Muslim. Why did the Saudis let you into Mecca?’

  ‘When you’re the only person who can find a doomsday cultist before he gases fifty thousand people, they bend the rules.’ The plane stopped beside the SUV. Lobato’s cabin crew opened the door, then the three passengers stepped out.

  Rahji came to meet them. ‘Mr Chase! Welcome back to Saudi Arabia.’

  Eddie shook his hand. ‘How are you? Last time I saw you, you’d taken a bullet.’

  ‘I am fine. I have a scar my grandchildren find fascinating, and sometimes it aches when it is cold. Fortunately, I live in Saudi Arabia. Cold is not often a problem. Except,’ he added pointedly, ‘when someone calls me to the desert early in the morning!’ The jet had landed at al-Ahsa airport in the country’s north-east, from where a broad, nearly featureless sandy plain stretched to the Persian Gulf.

  ‘Sorry. I wouldn’t have done it if this wasn’t urgent, though. And you’re the best person I know in Saudi to help out.’

  ‘You saved Mecca. In a just world, every Saudi – every Muslim – would consider you a hero and give you whatever help you need.’ A small shrug. ‘But this world has never been just, so . . .’

  ‘I’ll settle for whatever you can manage, thanks.’ Eddie made introductions. ‘My wife, Nina Wilde, and Gideon Lobato. This is Abdul Rahji.’

  ‘Mr Lobato, welcome,’ Rahji said, shaking the billionaire’s hand. ‘I have heard of you, of course. Your solar energy project means you are not the most popular person amongst my country’s rulers,’ he added with a sly smile, ‘but I am still honoured to meet you.’ He turned to Nina, placing his hand on his heart and giving her a small bow. ‘And Dr Wilde. I have also heard of you! Like your husband, you have saved the world.’

  ‘Well, I hope we can do it again,’ she said.

  ‘The situation is that serious?’

  ‘Let’s just say that if we don’t get into Dhajan soon, without them knowing, today’ll be memorable in a really bad way,’ said Eddie.

  ‘Is my
country in danger?’

  ‘Probably not directly,’ said Nina. ‘But there could be collateral damage – and worst-case scenario? A lot of people die, and the whole Gulf gets thrown into chaos.’

  Rahji’s eyes narrowed. ‘But you will not tell me why?’

  ‘It’s nothing personal,’ Eddie told him. ‘But there’s nothing anyone in Saudi can do to stop it. Nina and Gideon might be able to, though.’

  ‘Might be able to? That is not the same as will be able to.’

  ‘It’s the best we’ve got,’ said the Yorkshireman apologetically. ‘So can you help us?’

  ‘I will,’ Rahji replied, though he was less than approving. ‘Come with me – I will drive you across the border. Dr Wilde, I am afraid you will have to cover your hair. The rules for foreign women are more relaxed than for Saudis, but if the situation is as critical as you say, we do not want to draw attention.’

  Nina was about to object, but saw his point. If the notorious Saudi religious police stopped them, the security agent should be able to pull rank, but they would lose valuable time. ‘Okay,’ she huffed. ‘It’s not as if I’ve got much hair left anyway, but I’ll cover it up.’

  ‘Thank you.’ The Saudi opened the rear door. Nina got in, followed by Eddie, while Lobato took the front passenger seat. She found a dark blue scarf waiting for her. Giving Eddie an eye roll, she donned it as Rahji set off into the climbing sun.

  The road to Dhajan was also the road to Qatar, the tiny emirate tucked between its two larger neighbours at the southern end of the Gulf of Salwah. The highway Rahji followed took his passengers through mile upon mile of emptiness, the great barren plain home to nothing but rock and sand.

  By the time they approached the border, the temperature outside was already over twenty-five degrees Celsius, the number on the dash rising almost by the minute. Rahji put on sunglasses. ‘You picked a good place to build a solar plant,’ Eddie said to Lobato. ‘No shortage of sun.’