‘Funny you should mention God,’ said Hoyt. ‘You’ll be seeing him soon enough. If Natalia’s dead and 201’s research is gone, then we’re done here. The only thing left for us to do is clean up after ourselves.’ He glanced at Lock, who nodded. ‘This is all your own fault, Chase. If you’d just done what you were being paid to do rather than play the bleeding-heart hero, you’d be on a plane out of here by now. Instead, well . . . we’ve already got a funeral pyre. No sense wasting it.’
He brought up his gun. Chase tensed. ‘Do I get any last words?’
‘Only if they’re quick,’ said Lock. ‘And if I don’t like them, you’ll never get to finish your sentence.’
Hoyt sneered. ‘Well, what you got to say?’
Chase took a deep breath, trying to control his fear. ‘Just that . . . at least I kept my promise.’
The tall American snorted sarcastically. ‘I’ve heard better.’ His finger curled around the AK’s trigger—
‘Nobody move! Drop your guns!’
Hoyt spun at the unexpected voice, his team doing the same – to find weapons aimed at them.
Men emerged from the undergrowth. Most were Vietnamese, but the man who had shouted was not.
Chase recognised him immediately. It was the commander of the encampment, the lean, pale-eyed Russian. With him was the sweaty younger man with the weak moustache who had found Chase and Hoyt in the cabin. ‘I said, drop them!’ the leader called again, firing a shot over the group’s heads for emphasis.
Hoyt looked to Lock for instructions, his expression suggesting that he was willing to risk shooting his way out of the situation, but his boss urgently shook his head. The mercenary reluctantly lowered his gun. ‘Put ’em down,’ he told his men. Rifles thudded to the wet ground.
The new arrivals advanced, collecting the fallen weapons. The Russian stood before the suited man. ‘Mr Lock. I did not expect ever to meet the deputy director of the BSA in person.’
‘It wasn’t part of the plan,’ Lock growled.
The Russian half smirked, then cast an unfriendly eye over Hoyt and his men before turning to Chase. ‘I do not know if I should thank you, or shoot you.’
‘I’ll take the first one,’ said Chase, not sure what was going on but looking for any opportunity to take advantage of it. ‘Who’re you?’
‘My name is Grigory Alekseyevich Kagan. I am the field commander of a Russian special operations unit. I am sure you have an idea of its purpose by now.’
‘Yeah, I got the gist,’ Chase said with disapproval. ‘Why would you want to thank me?’
‘Because you did not deliver Natalia to these men. By keeping her from them, you have done a great favour not only for Russia, but for the whole world. And once we have her back, we can make sure they never get what they were trying to obtain.’ He looked back at Lock. ‘I would guess that you will be out of a job soon, no?’
To everyone’s surprise, Lock began to laugh. ‘Oh, you stupid son of a bitch,’ the American said between chuckles. ‘You haven’t realised what he’s done, have you?’
‘What do you mean?’
Lock gestured towards the fire. ‘See for yourself.’
Puzzled, Kagan moved closer – then whirled to face Chase in horrified disbelief. ‘What have you done? What have you done?’
‘What she asked me to do,’ Chase replied.
‘She asked you to kill her?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’ It was almost a shout.
‘To stop all you arseholes from restarting her grandad’s work. She made me promise that I wouldn’t let that happen. And now it won’t.’
‘But we were not trying to restart it! We were trying to end it!’
The sudden smug look on Lock’s face told Chase that things were not as he had thought. ‘Wait, how do you mean?’ he asked the Russian.
Kagan spoke slowly, trying to control his emotions. ‘How much do you know about the work of Serafim Volkov – Natalia’s grandfather?’
‘She told me that he wrote a letter telling his wife what he’d been doing – about that eitr stuff, and his experiments. And that your lot used the biggest fucking nuke ever made to seal up the pit where you found the eitr.’
‘She told you a great deal.’ He shook his head. ‘But not everything. The Tsar Bomba destroyed the eitr pit – but we knew from the Viking runestone that somewhere there was another. Unit 201 was created to discover ways to neutralise the eitr if it was found. But we did not know if they would work, because we had no samples – until we learned about Natalia. The mutations in her body should tell us the nature of eitr, and with that knowledge we would be able to destroy it.’
‘So you kidnapped her? Why didn’t you just ask her?’
‘We did not think she would believe our motives.’ Kagan jabbed a finger at Lock and Hoyt. ‘She thought we were like the BSA, trying to turn the eitr into a weapon. But we were not. We have seen what it does – and we will not let it be used again. So when we learned that Natalia was in Vietnam, we arranged for her to be brought to us, in a way that gave us total deniability. She and her friends would have been released unharmed, once we finished our tests.’ A glance at the fire, his expression now almost despairing. ‘We were not going to hurt her. But you – you have killed her! For nothing!’
‘Oh, fuck . . .’ whispered Chase.
Now it was Hoyt’s turn to laugh. ‘God damn, Chase! You were supposed to rescue her, and you fuckin’ murdered her! You really fucked up, didn’t you?’
The Englishman rounded on him angrily. ‘Killing you’ll be worth something, though.’
‘Enough!’ barked Kagan. He rubbed his temple, then stepped back to regard his prisoners. ‘Natalia is dead, and all our research is destroyed – but that means neither side has it. No one has gained an advantage. But . . .’ He faced Lock once more. ‘If I were to kill you, here and now, you would cease to be a threat.’
The American was no longer smiling. ‘If you kill me, someone else will take my place. This won’t end.’
‘It will for you. And I know that your agency is, what is the phrase? On the bubble for its funding, that is it. With you dead and the BSA humiliated, the US government may shut it down completely. And that can only be a good thing for the world.’
Kagan’s sweating comrade spoke to him urgently in Russian, regarding Hoyt and Lock nervously. Kagan’s reply was impatient. ‘He thinks killing you will cause an international incident, and that it is a bad idea,’ he added, addressing the Americans. ‘But you tried to kill us with no such concerns, so . . .’ He thought for a moment, then gave an order in Vietnamese. The men accompanying the Russians raised their weapons to firing position.
For the second time in a matter of minutes, Chase found a rifle aimed at him. ‘You’re going to kill me too?’
‘I am sorry,’ Kagan replied, with seemingly genuine regret. ‘You thought you were doing the right thing – for Natalia, and for the world. And what you decided to do . . .’ He locked eyes with the Englishman for a moment. ‘I think you did not want to do it, no?’
‘You’re fucking right I didn’t want to.’
Kagan nodded. ‘But this must end. With Lock gone, the Americans will likely shut down their work on the eitr.’
‘But they’ll shut it down anyway, surely?’ Chase indicated Lock. ‘He failed! He had a plan to get Natalia and steal your research, but he blew it. He comes away with nothing, but you’re no worse off.’
‘Two of our best scientists are dead!’ snapped Kagan. ‘He did not destroy Unit 201, but he still damaged it.’
‘But you’re still in business. Lock won’t be! You were right, he’ll be out of a job once his bosses realise that he fucked everything up, and caused an international incident by doing it. He might have hired mercs for deniability, but just by being here, right now, he’s blown that excuse.’ He regarded Lock, who now appeared as fearful of the prospect of being at the heart of a diplomatic storm as of the guns pointed at him. ‘Nobody’s won
here. Everyone’s lost. And killing us won’t get you any extra points.’
Kagan did not reply at once, again staring thoughtfully at Chase before turning his gaze to the funeral pyre. ‘You have done a very good job,’ he said. ‘It will be almost impossible to extract DNA from a body so burned.’
‘You just said this needs to end. Well, this ends it. Natalia wanted to make sure nobody could get anything else from her – you or them.’ He lowered his head. ‘Just leave her alone. Let her rest in peace.’
The other Russian spoke again, asking a question. Kagan considered it for a long moment, Chase hyper-aware of the Vietnamese covering the group, all with fingers poised on their Kalashnikovs’ triggers . . .
‘Nyet,’ Kagan finally said, shaking his head once more. ‘No, you are right, and so is the Englishman. Lock has failed – and that will embarrass Washington if we make good use of it.’
‘You son of a bitch,’ snarled Lock.
Chase made a sarcastic sound. ‘You’d rather he killed you?’
Kagan had a brief exchange with one of the Vietnamese, then turned back to Lock. ‘My associates from the Vietnamese secret police will take you and your men to Da Nang for . . . questioning.’ His tone made it clear that the interrogation would be more than verbal. ‘They are still angry that several of their friends were killed when the camp was attacked. I think they are keen to find out who was responsible.’ Hoyt’s facial muscles tensed. ‘As for you, Mr Lock, I am sure they will let you go in a few days. After making an official complaint to the US ambassador and the United Nations.’ Lock’s expression was much like his countryman’s.
‘And what about me?’ Chase asked.
‘You? What was your name – Chase?’ The Englishman nodded. ‘Your job here is over, Mr Chase. You should go home. There is nothing in this country for you now.’
Chase looked past him at the remains of the pyre. ‘There’s one thing that I need to do.’
‘What is that?’
‘Bury her. I’m not going to leave her body in the jungle to rot. She deserves more than that.’
Kagan nodded. ‘Very well. But once you have done that, you should leave. The jungle can be dangerous, especially at night, no?’
‘Yeah, I’d noticed.’
Kagan issued more orders, the Vietnamese herding the mercenaries into a group and marching them away at gunpoint. Kagan and his subordinate did the same with Lock and Hoyt, both still complaining angrily. The Russian reached the edge of the clearing, then paused, looking back at Chase. ‘Sometimes . . . sometimes we have to do bad things for good reasons,’ he said. ‘But knowing that you have done the right thing does not make you feel any better.’
‘No,’ Chase replied. ‘It doesn’t.’
‘She has found peace,’ Kagan went on, with a tip of his head towards the fire. ‘I hope that some day, so do you.’
The Englishman did not reply. Kagan turned and followed the others into the jungle.
Chase remained still for a minute, waiting until the sounds of movement had faded. Then he picked up a large piece of broken branch and began to gouge a hole out of the damp earth.
The sun had almost set by the time Chase finished his task. Hands dark with mud and ash, he looked down at his work, face solemn. The shallow grave was marked by a crude cross, two pieces of branch bound together by a length of vine. The logical part of his mind knew that the marker would not last long – jungle decay and the ceaseless gnawing of insects would see to that – but he felt better for having built it. At the very least, the dead woman deserved some form of remembrance.
He lifted his head at a distant, but familiar, shout. ‘Edward! Edward, can you hear me?’
‘Hugo!’ Chase called back. ‘I’m here!’
Castille appeared a few minutes later. ‘Edward!’ he said, with a huge beaming grin at the sight of his friend. ‘I saw the smoke. Are you okay?’
‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ Chase replied, managing a smile. The two men embraced. ‘What about you? You managed to get away from ’em, then.’
Castille pursed his lips. ‘It was a close thing! Hoyt would have killed me if the police had not arrived.’
‘So much for there never being a copper around when you need one.’
‘I know. I was quite surprised!’ Castille released the Englishman. ‘Where is Natalia? Is she safe?’
There was a lengthy pause before Chase finally answered. ‘No,’ he said quietly. ‘She . . . didn’t make it.’
He stepped aside to reveal the grave. Castille did not seem – or want – to believe his own eyes. ‘Mon dieu! What happened?’
‘I don’t want to talk about it.’
‘But – but I thought that surely you were clear . . .’ He took in the churned ground, seeing the footprints. ‘They were here? They caught you?’
‘Hoyt and Lock – and then the Russians. They had a bit of a stand-off.’
Castille surveyed the whole clearing. ‘There is no blood, no spent casings. They did not fight?’
‘No.’
‘Then where are they? Why did they leave?’
‘They didn’t get what they were after.’
‘But what happened to Natalia? Did they kill her? Hoyt and Lock – or the Russians?’
Chase shook his head. ‘Like I said, I don’t want to talk about it. What I do want to do is get out of this fucking jungle. How far away’s your jeep?’
‘About a kilometre, not far from the rendezvous point.’
‘Great. Let’s go.’
He started to walk away, but Castille remained still, staring at the grave. ‘Edward,’ he said. ‘What really happened here? I am your friend, you can tell me – you know that.’
‘Yeah, I know.’ Chase gave him a small, sad smile. ‘I made Natalia a promise. And . . . I kept it.’ He sighed. ‘That’s all I want to say for now. Maybe sometime later, when things are different, I’ll tell you everything. Right now, though? I need a shower.’
Castille decided not to press the issue any further. ‘Yes, you do,’ he said instead, with overstated lightness. He started walking towards the edge of the clearing, Chase alongside him. ‘But then, you are English. You always need a shower.’
‘Oh, fuck off, Hugo.’ The Yorkshireman gave him another small smile, then hesitated as they reached the trees, glancing back at the grave. ‘Goodbye, Natalia,’ he whispered. Castille gave him a look of deep sympathy, but remained silent out of respect for his friend’s wishes. Then Chase turned away, and the pair set off into the jungle.
‘You do realise that we will not get paid for the mission,’ said Castille.
‘Yeah, I know. Think we could get any money for the jeep?’
‘Hmm. I am sure Bluey knows someone who would buy it, no questions asked. So what are you going to do when you get home?’
‘Who says I’m going home? There’s fuck-all there for me now, just a big pile of solicitor’s letters from Sophia. You know what? Fuck her. She wants her divorce, she can have it. There’s more important things in life.’
‘Then what are you going to do?’ Castille asked.
‘What I’m best at. Troubleshooting, like Mac said. The fist in the glove. I reckon I could do that.’
‘Well, you can always rely on me to help, Edward. We will fight to the end.’
‘Yeah, I know.’ Chase clapped his friend on the back. ‘Fight to the end.’
23
Moscow
‘Well, that was . . . fun,’ said Nina with a grimace as she put down her phone.
‘Seretse not happy, was he?’ said Eddie, lying on the hotel suite’s bed.
‘He was not. I think being shouted at by a member of the UN Security Council kinda ruined his day.’
He sat up. ‘So what’s going to happen? About us, I mean?’
Nina ran a hand through her hair, tired. ‘As much as he’d probably love to fire both our asses, there’s not much he can do. It seems Kagan’s bosses pull a lot of weight at the Kremlin – they still want Unit 201 to
find and destroy the other source of eitr before Hoyt or anyone else can find it, but they need us and Tova to do that. So I’m guessing Seretse’s conversation with the Russian representative went something like: “Two people from the IHA just shot up our nuclear bomber base and caused billions of roubles in damage! But don’t fire them, because we’re still working with them. And we won’t tell you why, only that it’s important. I just needed to vent by yelling at you.”’
‘Yeah, I can see that’d be like someone pissing in his orange juice. I suppose now we’ve got to find the bloody thing.’
Nina glanced towards the door connecting the room to the adjacent suite. ‘All we can do for now is wait and see if Tova manages to come up with a location for Ragnarök.’ She sat beside her husband. ‘Which gives us a chance to talk about something else.’
He waggled his eyebrows. ‘You want to try for a kid right here?’
‘As fun as that would be, no.’ Her face became more serious. ‘What happened in Vietnam, Eddie? What really happened? Hoyt, and Kagan, and that guy Slavin from the bunker – you met them all there. And you knew about the eitr, and about the pit the Russians found.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘And you lied to me about it.’
‘I know, I know. I’m sorry.’ He sat up. ‘But I couldn’t tell you about any of it because . . . because I made a promise.’
‘To whom?’
He shifted uncomfortably, still conflicted after eight years, before answering. ‘Natalia. The girl I was hired to rescue in Vietnam.’
Nina moved closer, intrigued. ‘What was the promise?’
‘Unit 201 had kidnapped her to run secret tests. That stuff in the jar, Thor’s Hammer – that’s what they were trying to create, using her DNA. My job was to bring her and her friends back safely, but Hoyt and his boss had set the whole thing up as a way to lure Unit 201 out of the bunker. They had it all worked out – Slavin told ’em where the camp was, and then their plan was to nick all the research, burn everything else and try to kill as many of the scientists as they could . . . and also take Natalia.’
The Valhalla Prophecy_A Novel Page 30