Cheng had by now produced the artefact. Hands shaking, he held it out to the mercenary leader, who took it and called to one of his men. ‘Roche! Carry this.’ The other mercenary had also removed his mask to expose a craggy face with a bushy moustache. He slipped the key into a waterproof pouch on the harness across his chest. ‘We want the key,’ the blond man finally replied to Eddie, ‘and the coffins.’
‘Why?’ Nina asked.
He turned to her. ‘My employer needs them.’
‘For what?’
‘My employer needs something else as well,’ he went on, ignoring her question. His eyes fixed chillingly upon hers. ‘You, Professor Wilde.’
10
Nina stared back, stunned. ‘What?’ That he knew her name was shocking enough, but she was his target? ‘Why does your boss want me?’
‘I don’t know, and I don’t care,’ the man replied. ‘But I’m being paid to bring them you, the key and the coffins – so that is what I will do.’
One of his companions checked what was down below. ‘Harhund!’ he called. ‘The coffins, they’re here.’
‘Watch them,’ Harhund ordered. Two more mercenaries kept their guns fixed upon Nina, Eddie and Cheng as he descended into the mausoleum.
‘Why the hell do they want you?’ Eddie whispered to Nina. ‘How did they even know you were here?’
‘I don’t know,’ she answered. ‘Somebody on the Torrox’s crew told them, maybe?’
‘If they did, they got killed for it.’
‘There must be a spy,’ said Cheng. ‘Someone who knew about Krämer in Germany, and knew we were coming to this iceberg!’
‘The only people who knew all of that are us three,’ Eddie countered. ‘Pretty sure me and Nina aren’t spies – which just leaves you!’
‘I’m not a spy!’ Cheng protested, voice rising. ‘Why would I—’
He broke off as Harhund returned. ‘Most of the coffins are intact, but they are fixed to the floor,’ he announced. ‘We need to lift them out. Set up the winches.’
His team was apparently prepared for any eventuality, having brought coils of rope and a couple of ascender units: compact, self-contained powered winch systems able to haul several hundred pounds. They also had tools ranging from crowbars to drills – and, Nina saw with alarm, gas masks. Were they expecting a specific danger?
‘They’re going to drag those things out of here?’ said Vorster in disbelief. ‘They must weigh half a ton each!’
‘Then you will help us move them,’ Harhund said. ‘You,’ he pointed at Vorster, then at Eddie, ‘you, and . . . no.’ He drew back his finger from Cheng. ‘A fat weakling is no use.’
Cheng’s face flushed with outrage, but he said nothing.
‘You got a problem with women?’ Nina asked sarcastically.
‘No. They make excellent hostages.’ He turned away before she could come up with a suitably affronted response and started back into the mausoleum. ‘Put on your masks. When we break the coffins free, gas will leak.’ He and his men donned the masks, the black rubber and glass rendering them almost insectile.
‘We’ll just stand back and hold our breath, then!’ Eddie shouted after them. He faced Nina. ‘How would he know there’s gas in those things?’
‘He knows way more about this place than we do,’ she replied. ‘But how? If someone’s spying on us, they’d have to be psychic, because we didn’t know what was in here!’
She looked into the lower chamber. Harhund and his masked team were examining the central sarcophagus. Muffled discussion, then the leader retreated to give the others room to work. Clanks and scrapes echoed up into the throne room as they prised at its base, then—
‘There!’ one man cried as metal broke. ‘Got it – oh shit!’
He and his companions hurriedly withdrew. ‘Stay calm!’ barked Harhund as a puff of yellowish smoke swirled around them. ‘Don’t let the coffin fall over.’ They returned to support the metal and crystal container. ‘Plug the pipe.’
‘God, there really is gas!’ Nina said in dismay. But they were already taking action to contain it, one man working at the base of the sarcophagus. The haze dispersed, slowly rolling down to the chamber’s foot. ‘Looks like they plugged it, though.’
Imka put her head in her hands. ‘This is a nightmare. What is going on?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Nina, ‘but we’ll get out of this.’
‘How?’
‘Let you know as soon as we’ve figured it out,’ Eddie rumbled.
The men setting up the winch tossed a rope into the mausoleum, those below securing it around the sarcophagus. Harhund checked a reading on a device, then pulled off his mask. ‘It is safe,’ he announced. ‘Bring the prisoners down here. Tell them to leave their gear.’
A guard gestured with his gun for Eddie and Vorster to descend. They reluctantly discarded their equipment by the altar and went down the stairs. The Yorkshireman sniffed the air. ‘Someone have an egg sandwich for lunch?’
That produced chuckles from his captors. Harhund was not amused. ‘Shut up. No talking, or I will make the women suffer.’
‘Wouldn’t recommend it,’ Eddie told him with barely veiled threat.
Harhund merely sneered. ‘Help the others lift it. But do not damage it. I will not need to shoot you if any gas escapes.’
Vorster and Eddie exchanged concerned looks, then joined the mercenaries to lift the sarcophagus. The Englishman noticed a lead pipe protruding from the floor, its end blocked by some kind of epoxy or superglue. As the men tilted the coffin, he saw a similarly plugged pipe in the bottom of the crystalline cylinder. The realisation that it still contained a deadly gas made him handle the heavy object with much more care.
They manoeuvred it between the other sarcophagi towards the exit. Once it was clear of the obstacles, the powered ascender was switched on to help haul it up the steep stairs. Even with the machine’s assistance, it was still a strain, but the glinting coffin and its bearers finally reached the throne room, Eddie giving Nina a look to assure her that he was still watching for any opportunity to escape. On the smooth floor, the sarcophagus’s journey was much faster. It soon reached the entrance.
Harhund shut down the ascender and ordered two men to set up ropes in the curving corridor for the next leg of the ascent, then gave his prisoners a coldly thoughtful look. ‘You, go back down,’ he ordered Eddie.
‘If you don’t need me any more, I could just go home,’ Eddie replied.
The Norwegian did not respond to the jibe. ‘The rest of you, follow us. Braun, guard him,’ he told the man watching Nina, Cheng and Imka.
‘Where are you taking us?’ demanded Nina. ‘And why are you leaving Eddie here?’
‘To make you do as you are told,’ was the blunt answer. ‘Now move.’
Nina reluctantly set off, the others following. She glanced at the altar – and stopped in her tracks.
Cheng almost bumped into her. ‘What is it?’
‘The crystals, look.’ Like the walls of the sarcophagus chamber, those set into the altar’s face had started to glow. These, however, were in different colours, reds and greens and yellows as well as blue-white.
The sight instantly brought to mind something more modern: a control panel . . .
‘Keep moving,’ Harhund ordered. She gave the altar a last uncertain look, then continued upwards.
Vorster and the mercenaries detached the sarcophagus from the ropes and carefully carried it down to the passage below. Nina followed, looking back at Eddie, under guard on the mausoleum stairs. ‘See you soon, love,’ he called to her.
She wished she had his confidence. ‘I hope so! I’ll—’
She broke off and grabbed the wall for support as the fortress trembled. One of the men carrying the sarcophagus slipped and fell, the others barely catching it before it crushe
d his leg. ‘What was that?’ snapped Harhund.
‘The iceberg’s starting to melt!’ said Vorster, recovering. ‘It’s full of fault lines – and they’re breaking apart.’
‘I guess you’d better work fast,’ Nina told Harhund, but she wasn’t sure Vorster was right. The shudder hadn’t felt like a tremor shaking the fortress. It seemed more like a vibration, as if the structure itself were the cause.
The gold and crystal coffin was secured to the next set of ropes, then the ascender started to haul it up to the entrance. The crystal ribs were now aglow, giving the corridor the look of a neon-lit funhouse.
Harhund brought the prisoners past the sarcophagus and signalled for Vorster to join them. ‘Wintz, go back to the boat,’ he told one man. ‘Bring it to the bottom of the cliff under the entrance. We will lower the coffin down to it.’ Wintz scrambled ahead.
The fortress shuddered again, everyone stopping to brace themselves. Nina heard creaks and groans from all around, as if the structure itself was straining against its frozen prison. Were the glowing crystals melting the ice? She raised a hand to a rib. No heat, just light. That wasn’t the cause – so what was?
Harhund spoke to Roche and another man, then faced his team. ‘I will take Professor Wilde and the key straight to the ship,’ he announced. ‘Once the coffin is aboard the boat, bring these prisoners.’
‘What about Eddie?’ said Nina.
‘If it is safe to take another coffin, he will come with it.’ The blond man paused at another tremor. ‘If it is not, we will all get out.’
‘We’re supposed to bring at least three coffins,’ one of the mercenaries objected.
Harhund fixed him with a patronising stare. ‘Do you want one of them to be yours?’ He looked back at Nina. ‘Now move. Quickly.’
They soon reached the entrance tunnel, blue light seeping through the open hatch. Under Harhund’s watchful eye, Nina retrieved and donned her crampons before stepping onto the uppermost ice ledge.
Wintz had made quick progress across the cliff, clambering around the outcrop towards the rope ladder. But she was more concerned with her immediate surroundings. The ledge was littered with fallen chunks of ice. Looking up, she saw cracks weaving outwards from the embedded fortress.
Imka emerged behind her. ‘Look!’ she cried, alarmed.
Nina turned to see that the tremors had set the various chains and lines hanging from the Dionysius swinging. The heavy anchor rolled beneath the ship’s bow like a pendulum. ‘That won’t hold for much longer,’ she said as a man-sized hunk of ice broke from near the stern and tumbled into the water. ‘Get Eddie out, now!’
‘Quiet,’ said Harhund. ‘We may still have time to get another coffin.’
‘Are you kidding me?’ said Nina, but the Scandinavian pushed past her and re-entered the fortress to shout instructions. Roche gave the swinging chains a wary look, then took up position to guard the prisoners.
Wintz reached the ladder’s foot and boarded one of his team’s boats. He brought it deeper into the cave, giving the zone beneath the Dionysius a wide berth as more ice fell from above. He stopped at the bottom of the cliff near the forest of icicles. Naider was still impaled upon one, the blue ice beneath him stained red.
Harhund returned. The situation’s urgency was instantly made clear; he was carrying ropes and ice screws himself rather than delegating the task. ‘Martel, help me,’ he told the second man with them. They started to drive screws into the frozen cliff face as Roche maintained his watch.
Another shudder rattled the cave. The ice around the trapped fortress crackled, a new stress line tearing across it. Nina gasped and shielded her head as debris clattered onto the ledge, a piece striking Martel’s shoulder and making him swear.
The cold hail eased off. She peered up at the new crack, then turned to see if the fortress had suffered any damage.
It had. The already buckled section below the broken window had split wider. A light was visible within, brighter than anything she had seen inside. She worked out its position. Beneath the throne room, behind the mausoleum, under the snake skull’s chin. What was it? Some kind of central focus for the fortress’s power?
Grunts and huffs from the tunnel preceded the coffin’s arrival, the other mercenaries bearing it into the open. Sapphire light glinted from it, unexpectedly highlighting the ancient figure within. Nina moved to let the men carry it past, gazing at its contents. A body so old she would have expected to be desiccated, naturally mummified, but this had held its form. Had the gas inside the sarcophagus preserved it?
The group attached the container to the ropes Harhund and Martel had secured and rigged the ascender, reversing its motor to lower it to the waiting RIB. It only took a couple of minutes to reach water level. The hard part was now getting it into the boat without swamping or capsizing it, but the heavy coffin eventually came to rest.
Wintz moved off. The RIB was clearly overladen, the mercenary pulsing the outboard with great care to back away from the cliff before slowly turning towards the cave mouth.
Harhund faced his companions. ‘Now we go.’
Nina stood fast. ‘What about the others? I’m not going anywhere until they’re safe.’
The Scandinavian regarded her coldly, then called to a man near the hatch. ‘August, tell Braun to kill Chase.’ The man started back into the fortress. Imka made a sound of horror.
‘No, wait, wait!’ Nina cried. ‘I’ll come with you!’
August paused. Harhund kept his gaze fixed on the redhead for a long moment, then signalled for him to return. ‘Do not push me, Professor Wilde,’ he said. ‘Now move.’ He descended to the lower ledge and started across the cliff.
Martel set off after him, gesturing for Nina to follow. She hesitated – the ropes were already straining against the carabiners under their combined weight – but Roche pushed her. A furious glare at him, then she clipped herself to the line and stepped onto the crack.
The movements of the two men ahead made the rope judder in her grip. She sidestepped after them, keeping her body as close to the ice as she could. She would shed no tears if Harhund fell to his death, but she had no intention of joining him.
Roche obviously had similar thoughts, letting her open up a gap before following. Even so, the addition of a fourth person only added to the stress on the screws. Nina paused as she reached one, hearing faint crackles from the ice around it. Unnerved, she continued. Harhund passed the debris field where Cheng had almost fallen and headed for the outcropping, Martel not far behind.
The mercenary leader glanced back. ‘Roche, keep up!’ he shouted.
Roche made an annoyed sound, but increased his pace. The pouch on his chest meant he couldn’t press himself against the wall, making his movements awkward. ‘Go on, keep moving,’ he told Nina as he closed the gap.
‘We’re too close together,’ she shot back. ‘If one of these screws breaks loose, we’ll all—’
An impossibly deep whump of straining ice – and the whole wall shifted beneath her.
Nina gasped and flattened herself against the cliff. This was no mere tremor; her inner ear told her she was pitching forward. A hissing crash from below. The water churned and frothed, waves smashing against the foot of the glassy wall.
The whole iceberg was moving!
The two boats at the rope ladder lurched, breakers kicking them against the ice. Wintz desperately held on as his overladen craft rocked. He hurriedly increased power, putting speed over stability as he headed into the tunnel.
The falling sensation eased. Loud bangs came from behind Nina – not plummeting ice, but metal striking metal as the Dionysius shook. One of the hanging chains broke free and plunged into the water, kicking up an angry flume of spray. The anchor’s swing became wider, wilder. ‘Holy shit!’ yelled Roche. ‘Harhund, fuck getting more coffins – we’ve got to get out of here!’
‘What about the prisoners?’
The answer came without hesitation. ‘Kill them.’
Roche turned to pass on the message—
Nina beat him to it. ‘They’re gonna kill you! Run!’
Her words echoed across the cavern. Imka and Cheng both stared at the American, disbelief and uncertainty momentarily paralysing them – but Vorster had spent enough years at sea to know that hesitation in the face of danger could be fatal. He charged at the nearest mercenary, knocking him over the edge to plunge to his death before shoving his companions through the open hatch. ‘Go! Get in—’
August overcame his surprise. His SIG whipped up – and a burst of fire erupted from its muzzle.
All three rounds hit Vorster in the back. He staggered, his last conscious act being to push Imka further inside before he toppled from the ledge, spinning into the deadly field of frozen spikes below.
Cheng and Imka had no time to look back. They ran into the crystal-lit tunnel as more bullets twanged from the walls behind them.
11
Eddie waited at the bottom of the mausoleum stairs, Braun standing guard at the top. The Yorkshireman’s gaze never left him, waiting for some distraction that he could use to attempt an escape—
One came – but it caught both men by surprise.
The ship shook, knocking them both off balance. Eddie gripped the wall, about to charge up the stairs at his captor. But Braun also recovered and realised the Yorkshireman’s intent. He spun to shoot his prisoner—
Eddie dived into the mausoleum.
He slammed against a sarcophagus, which lurched as its base cracked, then rolled over its side and dropped again to half run, half slide down the steep floor as bullets struck coffins behind him. The mercenary cursed and descended the stairs, searching for line of sight on his target.
The Resurrection Key Page 13