“Turn away,” Drake heard her say. “Just go.”
“I won’t leave this man behind.”
“You Americans, just give it a rest,” she said, before unleashing hell. America’s finest backed away, stumbling through the thick grass, first favouring one arm and then staggering when it was broken, before losing the sight in one eye and finally collapsing without even a twitch.
Drake was shouting, running towards Alicia when she lifted Wells by the scruff of his neck.
“Are you mad?” he shouted. “Have you gone absolutely mad?”
“He goes in the well,” Alicia’s eyes were murderous. “You can join him or not, Drake. Your decision.”
“Why for God’s sake? Why?”
“One day, Drake. One day, if you live through this, you’ll find out.”
Drake paused for a breath. What did she mean? But to lose focus now was to invite death as surely as if he’d committed suicide. He summoned his memories of training, his wits, all his SAS skill. He struck at her with a straight-up boxer’s jab, jab, cross. She parried, making sure she struck his wrist each time with bruising force, but he was in close now.
Where he wanted to be.
He finger-jabbed at her neck. She side-stepped, right into his rising knee — aimed to crack a few ribs and slow her down.
But she rolled inside his knee so that they were shockingly close, an inch apart, eye to eye.
Great eyes. Wonderful eyes.
That belonged to one of the world’s greatest predators.
“You’re weak as a wickle babe, Matt.”
Her whisper chilled his bones as she stepped right in, extended an arm and threw him skyward. He landed on his back, winded. Before a second passed she was atop him, knees ramming his solar-plexus, forehead striking his own, making him see stars.
Again eye to eye, she whispered, “Stay down.”
But the choice wasn’t his to make. It was all he could do to raise an arm, to roll sideways, to watch as she half-dragged a semi-conscious Wells to the edge of the bottomless pit known as Mimir’s Well.
Drake screamed with the effort of rising to his knees. Embarrassed by defeat, shocked by how much edge he’d lost since joining the human race, he could only watch.
Alicia rolled Wells over the edge of the well. The SAS commander didn’t even scream.
Drake swayed as he lurched to his feet, head and body screaming. Alicia was approaching Colby Taylor now, still as fresh and agile as a spring lamb. Drake’s back — facing the Germans — felt about as exposed as a sailor on a raft up against a prehistoric Kraken, but he didn’t waver.
Alicia dragged the dead merc’s body off Taylor. The billionaire scrambled up, eyes wide, staring from Myles to Drake to the trees.
Figures were starting to emerge from between the mist-wreathed trunks, like ghosts at home in this fabled land. The illusion shattered when they came close enough to make out their guns.
Drake had circled around now. He could see the men approaching, knew that it was the vulture-like Germans, come to claim all the spoils.
Drake eyed the instrument of their victory with bewilderment. Alicia simply grabbed the Canadian billionaire by the crotch, and squeezed until his eyes popped. She smiled at his bewilderment before marching him over to Mimir’s Well and angling his head over the edge.
Drake realised he had other priorities. He skirted the action, using Alicia and Taylor as a shield. He reached the scrub and kept going, edging slowly up a slight grassy knoll.
Alicia pointed into the pit and shook Taylor until he screamed for mercy: “Maybe you’ll find something to collect down there you megalomaniac prick,” she hissed and threw him bodily into the endless void. His screams echoed for a short while, then cut off. Drake wondered if a man who fell into a bottomless pit screamed forever and if no one was there to hear him, did it really count?
By now Milo had reached his girlfriend. Drake heard him say: “Why’d the hell you do that? The boss would’ve liked that asshole alive.”
And Alicia’s answer: “Shut up, Milo. I’ve been looking forward to meeting Abel Frey. You ready to go?”
Milo grinned nastily up towards the top of the knoll. “We not gonna finish them off?”
“Don’t be an arse. They’re still armed and they hold the high ground. Do you have what we came for?”
“All nine Pieces of Odin present and correct. Your plane is toast!” he cried. “Have a ball out in this dead land at night!”
Drake watched the Germans beat a wary retreat. The world had just teetered over the brink. They’d come all this way, made a ton of sacrifices. Beaten themselves into the ground.
Only to lose everything to the Germans at the last hurdle.
“Yeah,” Ben caught his eye with a humourless grin, as if reading his mind. “How life imitates football, eh?”
THIRTY-FOUR
The sun was setting over a crisp horizon as the Europeans and their single remaining American ally limped to higher ground. A thin, cold breeze was blowing. A quick assessment found that one of the SAS soldiers was wounded, and Professor Parnevik was suffering from shock. No surprise there, given what he’d been through.
Dahl was radioing in their position by Sat-phone. Help was about two hours away.
Drake plonked himself down beside Ben when they stopped amidst a tiny stand of barren trees with open grassland all around them.
Ben’s first words: “I know other people have died, Matt, but I just hope Karin and Hayden are okay. I’m sorry.”
Drake was ashamed to say he’d forgotten that Hayden had been left with the plane. “Don’t worry. It’s natural. Chances are extremely good for Karin, fair for Hayden,” he admitted, having lost his sugar-coating abilities somewhere along the course of the mission. “How are you holding up, mate?”
Ben raised his mobile. “Still alive.”
“We’ve come a long way since the fashion show.”
“I barely remember it,” Ben said seriously. “Matt, I barely remember what my life was like before this began. And it’s been… days?”
“I could remind you if you want. The Wall of Sleep front-man. Swooning over Taylor Momson. Mobile overcharges. Rent arrears. Swooning over Taylor.
“We’ve lost everything.”
“No lie here, Ben — we couldn’t have gotten this far without you.”
“You know me, mate. I’d help anyone.” It was a standard reply, but Drake could tell he was pleased with the praise. He hadn’t forgotten that when Ben was out-thinking the suits and even the Nordic Professor.
No doubt that was what Hayden had seen in him. She saw the man inside, starting to shine through. Drake prayed for her safety, but there was nothing he could do for her right now.
Kennedy dropped beside them. “Hope I’m not interrupting, you guys. You look kinda tight.”
“Not you,” Drake said and Ben nodded. “You’re one of us now.”
“Um, thanks, I guess. That a compliment?”
Drake lightened the mood. “Anyone who can segue a few Dino-rock titles with me is a brother for life.”
“All night long, dude, all night long.”
Ben groaned. “So,” he glanced around. “It just got dark.”
Drake considered the endless grasslands. A last sliver of deep red was just dripping down the farthest horizon. “Damn, I bet it gets cold here at night.”
Dahl walked up to them. “Is this over then, men? Are we done? The world needs us.”
A biting wind tore his words into shreds, scattering them across the plains.