One of the bullets, maybe a ricochet, had cut across his temple. He felt blood running down his cheek. The gunfire halted.
Quietly, Spader brought his carbine up, preparing to shoot whoever entered the chamber to claim the gold. He wouldn't get them all, but he could certainly give Ethan and Gordon a chance to escape.
Rourke must have suspected something, because no one approached the gold. The trolley stood in plain sight in the middle of the chamber. He's holding back his team.
Lights appeared. First one, then two beams probed into the chamber from different archways. Neither light found Spader kneeling in the dark corner. Both flashlight beams stopped on the gold.
He doesn't know I'm here. He's right around the corner, just a few meters away. What am I going to do?
Snick, snick, snick.
The steel cable above Spader's head made threatening noises.
From the start, from his initial recruitment, Spader had always wondered how it would end. The best he could do was give his friends a better chance of survival.
Climbing to his haunches, bringing his head uncomfortably closer to the fraying steel cable, Spader lifted his carbine. He heard boots approaching down the passageway just meters away.
But the boots stopped, there was a pause, and then something metallic bounced into the chamber. It sounded like it was going to bounce right into his lap.
#
Rourke tossed the grapnel hook towards the gold.
It bounced twice on the stone floor and then slid without making contact.
Missed again!
He needed to hear the grapnel clanging against the trolley's metal frame. And soon. His position felt unnervingly vulnerable. The trolley stood less than ten meters away, but Rourke suspected a direct approach would elicit shredding gunfire. The intruders hadn't retreated far.
Ethan and two others. Rourke had known by the voices. They had scattered like rabbits and then gone to ground in hiding.
Rabbits with machine guns.
He cursed whichever of his team had alerted the intruders to the trap.
Now Rourke faced an entirely new problem. The gold appeared unattended, but with the adjoining chambers held open by steel cables, the intruders could be hiding in ambush. For all he knew, there could still be someone in the chamber with the gold. He couldn't see everywhere with his flashlight.
The gold offered a dangerously tempting lure. Rourke had men spread over three chambers in a right-angle around the gold. Two of those chambers provided direct line-of-sight to the trolley. Side-stepping cautiously a little further down the passageway, Rourke peered into the darkness for the trolley's shape. Two guards waited further back, ready to haul in the prize once Rourke's aim fell true.
Hauling back the rope from his third attempt, Rourke glanced nervously at the cable near his shoulder. The cable hummed and twanged under tremendous strain.
Rourke winced. He kept pulling. The grapnel scraped along the floor to within arm’s reach. He groped for the hook in the dark. Using his flashlight would make him a target.
He recovered the hook, wincing again as it scraped on the floor. His intentions must be obvious. The sound was a dead give-away. It also revealed his position. He didn't have much room to dodge if Ethan's new friends opened fire.
What was that?
A dazzling flash shocked Rourke's retinas. He blinked away the ghostly after-image. Had someone signaled with a flashlight? No, too bright and fast for a flashlight. It had been like a single, silent lightning strike. After a second, when nothing else happened, he prepared to throw the hook again. At least he'd gotten a good glimpse of the trolley.
Rourke touched the wall to check his angle. He visualized where he'd last seen the trolley. He swung his left arm back and tossed the hook forwards into the dark. Silence as the hook flew and then - Clang!
Got it!
Rourke tested the rope, feeling a satisfying resistance. He played out the remaining rope, backing up to his team's position. 'OK. Turn on the lantern.'
Sudden lantern-light revealed the two guards at the archway, one aiming towards the trolley, one crouching over the lantern.
All three lit their lanterns. So far, so good.
Rourke signaled for the closest guard to help with the rope. The man shouldered his rifle and rushed into position behind Rourke. The other guard kept watching the trolley. By the light, Rourke noted the hook had snagged the trolley dead center at one end, the perfect spot.
'Ready?'
Behind Rourke, the guard wound the rope around his left wrist. 'Ready.'
Gripping the flashlight sideways in his teeth, Rourke mumbled, 'OK. Pull!'
Both men hauled. The trolley shuddered slightly, but hardly moved before someone started screaming.
Rourke stopped pulling and snatched the flashlight from his mouth. What's happening now?
The guard at the archway was gone. Just the lantern remained. The screaming sounded hysterical.
Not again. Not now.
Tracking the screams, Rourke swung his flashlight across the chamber. The guard was in his final stages of struggle. He hung from the reptile’s mouth, frantically thumping its neck.
The lizard responded by smashing the guard’s head into the archway. Once, twice, three times Rourke felt the impact through the floor. The guard stopped moving after the second hit. It spun and retreated with its pacified prey.
So fast, thought Rourke. That could easily have been me.
'Look-out!' warned the guard holding the rope.
Another one!
A second animal came shouldering into the chamber. Rourke dropped the rope and bent for his rifle. That action saved his life.
The tongue flew over Rourke’s head and hit the guard behind him. The pink appendage smacked into the guard's face like a wet side of beef.
Rourke saw the man stumble back. Next instant, the tongue jerked him head-first across the chamber. Legs trailing, he flew like a human arrow over Rourke towards the animal's mouth. Midway across the chamber, he jolted to a complete stop mid-air.
The rope! The rope still bound the guard’s arm to the trolley. He was pulled taunt between the trolley and the animal.
Thwarted, tongue stretched across the chamber, the reptile began backpedalling, pulling even harder. The guard was suffocating. The tongue completely covered his face. The man kicked frantically. The rope cut a bloody channel into his forearm. Flesh parted. The guard couldn't scream, or his screams couldn't be heard, because his entire face was covered.
The trolley began moving.
The animal was pulling the gold. Rourke let it happen, tracking the approaching trolley. The animal retreated rapidly. The entire rig began accelerating, picking up momentum, careening....
No! If the trolley fell, Rourke couldn't move the gold. The guard’s neck broke with a ghastly snap.
Suddenly all movement stopped. The trolley had anchored itself by tipping precariously sideways against the archway, ready to topple at any moment.
Instinctively, Rourke drew his combat dagger and hacked the rope. The thick climbing rope resisted. He sawed savagely, hearing more cries from two chambers away. In the back of his mind, as he sawed at the rope, the new screams registered in his consciousness: the rest of his team, just two men now, were under attack.
#
Ethan dragged Gordon along the floor.
He had Gordon under the arms, pulling him through the pitch darkness.
Is this far enough? I don't know. This is far enough.
Ethan carefully lowered Gordon's head and shoulders. Only the gold had shielded Ethan from Gordon's fate. And Spader? He had no idea about Spader. The three men had scattered from Rourke's assault. Spader had extinguished the lamp a split second before the attack. The darkness had saved Ethan and Gordon. Maybe it helped Spader too. The simple act of extinguishing the lamp might have saved all their lives in those first few terrifying seconds. Probably not, though. Spader had been closest to the attack. Ethan had felt the bu
llets pounding into the gold before his mind properly registered Spader's warning. Instinctively, he'd dashed blindly away from the gunfire. He'd run less than twenty feet when he tripped over a body.
Whoever he tripped over started moaning.
'Gordon?' Ethan tested.
'Ethan. I didn't know it was you.'
'Are you hurt?'
'I'm shot,' answered Gordon quietly. 'I can't walk.'
In the dark, Ethan dragged Gordon by the armpits. Rourke's team might want more than gold. They might want payback. Ethan had blindly dragged Gordon through two more chambers before setting him down.
Spader,' hissed Gordon. 'Where's Spader?’
From back the way they'd come, Ethan heard something metallic bouncing off the stone floor. 'I didn't see him. He didn't run this way.'
'He's got the big med-kit,' labored Gordon. 'I'm bleeding everywhere. I think I've been shot twice. You need to look.'
'I haven't got a light! I must have dropped it when I fell over you!'
Ethan had an idea. He rushed as quickly as he dared back to where he'd found Gordon. This would be risky, but he didn't have a choice.
He withdrew Spader's camera and took a photo down the passageway. The automatic flash blasted a split second's illumination. The dazzling flash was all Ethan needed. He studied the back of the camera. On the camera's small LCD screen appeared his picture. He scanned the little glowing illustration and...there! He spotted the flashlight in the picture. The flashlight had rolled against the left hand wall, halfway down the passageway. Keeping a hand on the wall, Ethan crawled along until his questing right hand found the flashlight.
Got it!
He heard the metallic bouncing sound again, followed by a scraping noise. He didn't dare use the flashlight so close to whatever Rourke was doing. He retreated in pitch darkness, only using the flashlight when he reached Gordon. Gordon's assessment proved accurate. Two bullet holes streamed blood from his left side.
'Take my vest off,' hissed Gordon.
Ethan shook his head. 'The bullets went through the straps. The elastic is keeping pressure on the wounds.'
Gordon hissed, 'There's a...compression bandage. In my...cargo pocket. Left side.'
Searching for the bandage, Ethan heard gunfire and terrified screaming from Rourke's direction.
What's happening back there? Is that Fontana and Randerson?
Ethan tried to concentrate on Gordon. He didn't like the wet sound of Gordon's breathing. He hunted through Gordon's pockets, found the bandage and tore it open. He fed the pad under the elastic of Gordon's body armor. Blood spurted everywhere, painting Ethan's forearm.
He's bleeding so much....
'I need another one,' said Ethan. 'Do you have more?'
'Ethan - the cables....'
'I know. They're OK. Don't worry about them.' Ethan raised the flashlight to study the cables. The flashlight confirmed what his ears already knew. The cables were seconds from busting apart.
'I have to move you again,' Ethan explained. 'We can't stay here.'
'Wait, I need to tell you something.'
'Later.'
'I need you to hear this.'
'Sure - what is it?'
‘I was coming here. Back to the Plaza. After this operation. This was my last one with Spader. I was going to come here and work with you.’
Ethan shook his head over Gordon. ‘I’m sorry you didn’t come earlier.’
Gordon's words were half-incomprehensible. 'Spader...Spader isn't here for the gold.'
Spader wasn't here for the gold? What did that mean? What was Spader really here for then? Either Gordon's mind was slipping or he thought his statement should mean more to Ethan.
When Gordon said no more, Ethan grasped him under the arms. 'OK - I understand. We need to move.'
As Ethan prepared to drag Gordon, green light flooded their chamber. Ethan froze as the light washed over himself and Gordon. Following the light came two running men. Two of Rourke's guards. One had a green flare. They didn't bother about Ethan and Gordon. They didn't bother because they were running for their lives. At that exact moment, as Ethan watched the running men, three things happened.
Ethan's watch timer started beeping.
The two guards spotted a triangle barrier.
A lizard the size of a family sedan surged into the chamber and charged at the man holding the green flare.
Ethan gaped at the green-washed spectacle. His sense of reality felt badly wounded. But as strange as he felt, the guards had to feel worse. In desperation, both men lunged at the triangle barrier. They couldn't both fit. A viscous scuffle left the flare-bearer reeling backwards.
The animal struck.
The reptile's mouth engulfed the reeling guard’s hips. Without slowing, the animal lifted the guard off his feet, twisted him midair, and then pile-drove him head-first into the floor. The impact jarred the guard from the animal’s mouth. Before the stunned guard could react, the chameleon engulfed his leg and started to thrash him around the floor by his foot. The guard’s dropped flare telecast the attack up the walls in ghastly shadow-play. Looking away, Ethan still sensed and heard the guard’s leg tear off.
Across the chamber, the second guard was stuck in the triangle barrier. His head and shoulder were through, but his legs and hips remained in Ethan's chamber. His legs started kicking wildly.
No, wait. Something is attacking him from the other side.
Hostiles occupied both sides of the barrier. The second guard had climbed head-first into one.
Just then, Ethan's watch finished its countdown. All the barriers tried to move. Ethan knew he should look away, but by the green light he caught every wretched moment of the barrier rolling sideways into the wall and slicing the trapped guard cleanly in half.
The man's hips and legs tumbled into the chamber. Ethan didn't see the severed body parts land, because at that moment, the inevitable occurred. Already straining, the fraying network of cables didn't stand a chance.
Ethan threw his body over Gordon as all the wire ropes exploded.
#
Rope lashed the dead guard's arm to the tipping trolley.
The animal hauled on the dead guard.
If the trolley toppled, Rourke couldn't move the gold. It would all have been for nothing.
Rourke hacked at the rope like a maniac.
Somewhere to his left, green light flashed in his peripheral vision. Someone nearby had a flare. The flare-bearer sounded on the wrong end of the giant lizard equation. The screaming was close and hysterical.
With one final slice, Rourke severed the rope. The severed ends snapped away in opposite directions. The creature disappeared dragging its prize up the south passageway. The trolley tipped back onto four wheels.
Rourke smiled, took two running steps at the trolley, then froze.
Not now. No!
The halted barriers were trying to move again. All around him he heard the metallic whine of cables stretching beyond their limits. He never intended for the cables to last this long. He'd planned to have the gold and be gone by now. He was caught in his own trap.
The first cable snapped in the corridor behind him. Rourke dropped to his stomach. Sparks raced down the wall to his left where the severed cable whipped at life-destroying-speeds through the chamber.
Rourke pushed up and dived for a corner, praying the next cable wouldn't find his flesh. The second cable exploded in the corridor with the gold.
The cable must have hit the trolley, because Rourke spun just in time to see the trolley launch from the passageway. It flew across the chamber. Only two of the trolley's wheels contacted the floor as it catapulted past Rourke. Only the weight of the trolley kept those two wheels down.
Rourke just had time to see the trolley careening down the opposite passageway before all the cables exploded.
Pressed desperately into the corner, head cradled in his arms, Rourke tried not to howl in frustration as everything came undone around him.
/> #
Fontana and Randerson stood dumbfounded.
'Where did that come from?' asked Randerson.
Fontana moved his red light slowly over the trolley. 'Randy, this looks like gold.'
The trolley had just rolled into the chamber and stopped between the two men. In his initial surprise, Fontana had almost shot it.
Randerson peeked down the corridor that just spat out the trolley. The barriers had changed again in that direction. Seconds earlier, the most ungodly racket had emanated from down there. Even with their diminished hearing, both men heard the hardcore violence unfolding.
'Where did it come from? ' asked Randerson again, returning to the trolley.
'You saw,' said Fontana. 'It just rolled down that corridor.'
'No, I mean - how was it moving like that?' Randerson gave the trolley an experimental shove. 'It weighs a ton!'
Fontana didn't care. A fortune in solid gold had just landed in their lap. He didn't need the fine details. 'Aztec voodoo frigging magic, I don't know, but here it is.'
'Wait, I saw this before,' realized Randerson, running his hand over the gold's carved surface. 'Spader and Gordon had this earlier.'
Fontana had just one question in mind. Can we move it?
He inspected the trolley closely.
It looked expertly designed, but one end was buckled. Something massive had struck the trolley side-on. Half the welded joints had failed, popping free, leaving the steel rods sliding against each other. The failed welds securing the metal sling caused the gold to lean to one side. Fontana squatted to examine the wheels and noticed blood flecks.
Not my blood, so who cares?
The wheels looked intact.
Randerson studied the gold with his flashlight. ‘Hey, look at this. There's bullets embedded in this thing.'
'Yeah, there's some blood here too.'
Fontana leant over the trolley to see where the bullets had drilled worm holes into the gold. Something sharp poked through his shirt. He jerked away from whatever stung him. 'Ouch, what's this? Something poked me.'
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