by N. J. Croft
“Shit.” Gritting her teeth against the pain, she rested her booted foot on his body while she pulled as hard as she could.
Finally, it jerked free, and she almost fell over backward. She wiped it clean on the arm of Yuri’s jacket.
There was only one way to go. She already knew the way she’d come in was blocked. That left the second tunnel directly opposite. Bigger than the one she had come through, but not by much. Her claustrophobia had left her, and she crawled into the tunnel, with the torch tucked in her jacket pocket, the spear gripped in her right hand. She was heading downward; she didn’t know if that was good or bad. She was in the mountains, so it didn’t necessarily mean she was heading deeper underground.
The light was dimming, and she ignored it, kept moving. Her side was on fire, the pain constant. She tried to ignore that as well.
Her hands hit the icy cold of water. She stopped abruptly and swallowed. Panic awoke and hovered at the edge of her consciousness.
She crawled on, but with each foot she traveled, the water got deeper. Freezing cold, her hands and knees were soon numb. Then she came to a place where the tunnel dropped quickly. The water rose to the surface, and she came to a sudden halt.
She closed her eyes and she was back in the past. Drowning as they held her down, the water filling her lungs so she couldn’t breathe. The pressure building and building…
Not real.
That was twelve years ago and she’d been helpless. She wasn’t helpless now. She had a choice. She could go back and die in the darkness, and Yuri would win. Or she could put her faith in…she didn’t know what. She’d never believed in God. But maybe in the Eternal Blue Sky.
The light was dying. The water looked black and treacherous.
Eve took a deep breath—and dived in.
Chapter Nineteen
Within a minute, the tunnel widened and there was room to hold her head above water. The current carried her then, in total darkness, and she gave herself up to the sensation, riding the water. At least her pain was numbed by the cold. She lost track of time. Then a light appeared. Small and dim but growing. She tried to slow her forward movement, but there was nothing to hold onto, and she was carried faster and faster toward the light.
Then the cave spat her out and she plummeted into the lake below.
She sank beneath the surface and then scrambled up toward the air, and she was laughing as she broke the surface, because the spear was still grasped in her hand and she’d won.
She swam to shore and dragged herself up onto the bank, shivering. She would never be warm again.
As she looked around, orientating herself, she realized she was not far from where Gansukh was setting up camp. She staggered onward, clutching her side, which was bleeding again. Relief felt almost warm as she caught sight of the horses, grazing. She hurried her pace, then stopped abruptly.
Gansukh lay face up in the grass, a hole in the center of his forehead.
She stood, her mind going blank. Just too much.
Then something rammed into her, and she crashed to the ground. Someone was trying to take the spear from her. She fought to hold on to it, but she was weakened by loss of blood and her assailant was too strong. She screamed with rage as it was ripped from her hand.
She came up on her feet and stopped again. John Chen stood only two feet away, the Spirit Banner in one hand, a gun in the other.
Why the hell did everyone but her have a gun? “I thought you were dead.”
“And I’d thought you had failed. I’m glad my employer’s faith in you was justified.”
She glanced at the gun, then shifted her gaze to the spear. “What do you plan to do with it?”
“Give it to its rightful owner.”
She snorted. She was way past fear. “Don’t tell me. Someone who claims to be a descendant of Genghis Khan.”
“The rightful heir to his legacy.”
“So what happens now?”
“Now you die. I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this. Part of my mission was to evaluate you, see if you were suitable for recruitment to the group. But I don’t think you are. I like you, Eve Blakeley, but you’re an idealist.”
Jesus, what was it with men who claimed to like her then tried to kill her? “So let me go.”
“It’s too risky to keep you alive, especially considering your association with Zachary Martin.”
“You know who he really is?”
“Of course. He’s been a problem for some time. That will end today.”
“I’ll help you find the tomb.”
“The tomb will go to someone else.”
Damn.
She searched her mind for some way to stop this. She’d faced her fucking fears, all of them, full on, and what was the point if she was just going to die? Batbayar had told her that wisdom would come if her mind was calm and pure. What use was wisdom if you were dead? But that reminded her of something else he had said.
“Batbayar told us that the Spirit Banner will point the way. Won’t your bosses be annoyed that you killed me, and now you don’t know where it was pointing?”
At that moment, she heard a vehicle approaching, still in the distance but getting closer. Time was running out.
“My people are coming,” John said. “If you’re alive when they get here, you may extend your life for a short time, but you will soon come to wish you hadn’t. I’ve seen your fears. Tell me the way, and I’ll give you a quick death.”
Thanks for nothing.
She actually thought about it. For all of three seconds.
Then she stared into his face. “Fuck you.”
Chapter Twenty
Zach had had every intention of heading back to civilization and taking Tarkhan to the nearest hospital. But when he’d gotten into the vehicle, he’d found some sort of tracking device. A red dot flashing in the center of a screen. They were tracking Eve.
He helped Tarkhan into the back. He made it, and then promptly blacked out. Likely a combination of pain and being unaccustomed to alcohol. It was probably just as well. The ride was rough, and Zach was pushing the vehicle as fast as it would go over the uneven terrain. He went over one bump, and the vehicle flew into the air, crashing down, hurling him against the steering wheel. He straightened, hands locking on the wheel, and rammed his foot onto the pedal, speeding up.
He couldn’t shake the gut feeling that he was running out of time. He had a pistol on his lap and another—taken from the dead hand of the former owner of the vehicle—lay on the passenger seat.
As the blue lake came into sight, the tracking device beeped a proximity warning.
He saw the horses first. Agitated, turning, spinning, rearing.
Then the people. He took in the sight at a glance. John held a goddamn spear in one hand and a gun in the other. The gun was aimed at a bedraggled but defiant Eve. He didn’t slow; he heaved the steering wheel around, pressed his hands on the horn, and headed straight for John.
He turned, eyes wide, fixed in place. They were going to collide. And Zach didn’t give a shit.
At the last moment, John hurled himself to the side. Zach slammed his foot on the brake. The vehicle skidded to a halt, and Zach was out. He looked around, but John was gone. Seemingly vanished. He must have disappeared into the trees; there was nowhere else to go. Zach ran after him, stopping inside the tree line. The place was quiet, no hint of movement.
He looked back. Eve stood, clutching her side, blood soaking her clothing. He scanned the forest.
John Chen was gone. For now. There would be another time. At least he knew he wasn’t crazy.
And he turned back.
He shoved the pistol into its holster and walked to where Eve stood, staring after where John had vanished, brows drawn together in a vicious frown. “He took my spear,” she said.
“That old thing? I’ll get you another one,” he promised. “A new, shiny one this time.”
She laughed and then crumpled to the ground.
Epi
logue
Five days had passed since she’d been shot. For the second time in her life. They were letting her out of hospital tomorrow, and she had booked a flight to the UK. She’d been talking to her children via Skype every day. She couldn’t wait to get home.
Except part of her didn’t want to leave. Part of her wanted to continue her search. To find the tomb.
But it wasn’t safe. Would they come after her again?
Zach had organized a security detail for her at the hospital. Men he trusted. She didn’t think there were many of those around. That was just before MI6 had pulled some strings and gotten him out of the country, seconds in advance of the local police arresting him as a murder suspect. They weren’t happy. There were a few dead bodies to explain.
Apparently, she was still his only lead. He’d promised—or maybe threatened—to visit as soon as things settled down. Or as soon as he was allowed. He had a lot of explaining to do.
Maybe his bosses were listening to him now. Or maybe not.
The nurse appeared in the doorway. “Dr. Blakeley, you have a visitor. Mr. Tuul.”
Her book dropped from her fingers.
How had he gotten through security? And then he was there, walking into the room, familiar and civilized in his dark gray suit. “You look well,” he said, stopping by the bed.
She swallowed, then glanced past him, half expecting to see some sort of assassin in tow. John, perhaps, come to finish the job.
“I’m alone, and I’m not here to do you any harm, Dr. Blakeley. On the contrary, my employers are pleased with you. Very pleased.”
“So pleased that John Chen tried to kill me.”
“He was overzealous. And that was before we had evaluated all the facts.”
Like the fact that she knew where the spear had been pointing and they didn’t. “And you aren’t going to torture me to find out what I know?”
“We’re civilized people. We’d prefer to work with you. If that’s possible.”
And if not? Perhaps she was better off not asking. Did she believe him? She wasn’t sure. If Zach was right, then Mr. Tuul was part of a terrorist organization who had committed countless atrocities. “What do you want, Mr. Tuul?”
“We had a deal. You find the Spirit Banner and we provide you with information to help you find the tomb. And the funding, of course. Whatever you need.”
“You really expect me to trust you now?”
“Perhaps not. But you must know that the only way you and your family will be safe is if this job is finished.”
She went still. “My family?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a photo, laid it gently on her lap.
Her hands clenched and unclenched as she stared at the image. The photo showed Harper, Lucy, and Daniel. They were playing some sort of ball game on the lawn outside her parents’ house. She touched a finger to Harper’s face. They looked happy and carefree. She wanted to scream and leap at Mr. Tuul, tear the mask of civilization from his face, rend him limb from fucking limb.
Instead, she gritted her teeth until she had herself under control. “What do you want?”
“Find the tomb and this”—he waved a hand at the photo— “unpleasantness will be unnecessary.”
Why was that? Because they would have succeeded in taking over the world? Crazy. But what choice did she have? She couldn’t go back. She’d made this mess, now it was down to her to sort it out.
Mr. Tuul must have seen the acceptance in her eyes, because he reached into his pocket and this time, took out an envelope, handed it to her. She opened it, drew out the single piece of paper. It contained a drawing and a line of writing. She stared for a moment.
She knew where to look, and now, she knew what she was looking for.
How could she refuse?
…
Can’t get enough? Turn the page to start reading The Lost Tomb by N.J. Croft now!
Chapter One
Noah Blakeley revved his Harley and pulled out in front of the two riders flanking him. Behind them, the huge truck lumbered. Otherwise, the road was quiet, the way ahead lit only by their headlights. They hadn’t seen another vehicle since they’d turned off the freeway.
Might as well have been the road to fucking nowhere.
The knot tightened in his gut. The one he always got before a fight. Though, if it all went to plan, then there would be no actual fighting tonight. That wasn’t on the agenda. He was almost sorry.
He’d know soon enough if this would go down as intended. It had better. Otherwise, he’d wasted three months of his life on this deal.
Then up ahead, he made out the lights of the checkpoint. He eased back on the throttle and the bike slowed. His muscles tensed. If they were stopped, it was over; something had gone wrong. But as they approached, the metal gates swung open. He didn’t see anyone as they drove through. The checkpoint appeared unmanned, but maybe they were just staying out of sight.
Through the gates, a long, straight road led into more darkness.
This was a military storage facility. One that had officially closed six months ago. But finally, a light flashed—that was the signal—and a huge warehouse structure loomed out of the darkness.
He peeled off the main track and headed to the right, pulling up outside the open double doors. The light flashed again as he switched off his engine and swung his leg over the bike. Beside him, Rick and Steve were doing the same.
Rick swaggered over, a big grin on his ugly face. “Hey, looks like we’re in business. I never thought we’d be making a deal with the fucking army, but Christ, these days, anyone can be bought.”
So it appeared.
Noah pulled off his helmet and rested it on the bike seat, running his hand over his scalp. He checked the pistol stuffed down the back of his pants as two guys jumped down from the cab of the truck.
“Man, this could be the start of something big,” Rick said. “We already have a buyer for this stuff. And they’ll take anything we can get. You did good, bro.”
“Good enough that you’ll let me in on the deal?”
Rick’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment Noah wondered if he’d pushed too far. “We’ll see. Anyway, we haven’t got the stuff yet. Where the hell are they?” As he spoke, two figures appeared in the doorway, both in army fatigues. A corporal and a sergeant. Damn. It was unlikely they were anywhere near the top of the ladder. He’d been hoping they would be dealing with someone a little further up the food chain.
He and Rick walked up side by side. “You have the stuff?” Noah asked.
The sergeant stepped forward. “You have the money?”
Rick turned and nodded to the man at the back of the group. Jace hurried up. He carried a laptop. “I’m ready to make the transfer as soon as we have confirmation of the goods.”
Noah almost smiled. That was sophisticated stuff for a bunch of bikers.
“Then come this way.” The sergeant swung around and headed into the warehouse. Dim lights flickered to life, revealing a cavernous room, empty except for a pile of crates against the far wall.
They stopped beside them, and Noah whistled. The crates had been opened, revealing enough weapons to start their own personal war. He pulled a paper out of his pocket and checked the contents against the list. The buyers had been specific about what they wanted. They could cause all sorts of mayhem with the stuff they had here. But that was hardly his problem.
It took half an hour to go through the lot. Turning, he gave Rick a nod. “It’s all here.”
He moved off to the side as the payment was made, his eyes searching the building, but nothing was out of place. If this went down clean, they could move to the next stage, and things might just get interesting.
Finally, the deal was completed and Jace headed back to the truck. The headlights came on, and it rolled slowly into the warehouse.
As it came to a halt beside them, all hell broke loose. Lights flashed on, and the sound of booted feet approached, together with engine
s heading their way.
Shading his eyes from the blinding lights, Noah stepped back behind the nearest crate.
“What the fuck?” Rick crouched down beside him.
Exactly Noah’s sentiments. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go down. His mind raced. Could they still salvage the night’s work? Get out of there? But they needed the goddamn merchandise. He peered around the crate and assessed the situation. His eyes were adjusting to the light, and it didn’t look good. A line of soldiers were strung out across the doorway, all in full combat gear and pointing their weapons in his direction.
The blood fizzed in his veins and he came instantly alive. His body told him that maybe he was going to get that fight after all. His head told him otherwise. No way could they win this. All the same, his gaze flicked to the crate in front of him—they would have no shortage of guns.
“Toss your weapons and come out with your hands behind your head. You have one minute.”
Time slowed. He looked at Rick, his eyebrows raised in question. Though he already knew the answer.
“I say we go for it,” Rick said.
Jesus, but he’d always known the man was an asshole. “What? You want us to go up against the whole fucking US Army?”
Rick grinned. “They’re pussies compared to the Brothers.”
Actually, he might be right. Most of the Brothers had military backgrounds. They were also tough as shit and they liked a fight. But they were outnumbered ten to one, and Noah wasn’t ready to die just yet.
“Come on, bro. Let’s go down fighting.”
I don’t think so.
He glanced around, assessing the situation. The corporal and the sergeant had vanished—had they been part of the take down? He had to presume so. Jace was nowhere to be seen, he must have been picked off at the truck. That left two of their guys in play. He spotted them behind a crate a few feet down. He could just see the edge of their leathers.
Rick had already pulled his pistol. Was he batshit crazy?
Easing his own weapon out from the back of his pants, he held it at his side, his brain frantically scrambling for any way out of this that wouldn’t be considered a total failure.