He landed on the police car. Its roof imploded beneath him, the windows bursting apart and showering the street with glass. People on the sidewalk yelled and ran from the glittering hailstorm.
The holdall hit the kerb beside the car with a bang, the crystalline sphere inside it shattering into thousands of glassy fragments.
The Crucible — the Atlantean artefact that had forged the lost civilisation’s supplies of gold, that had driven Talonor’s journeys across the world to find another natural nuclear reactor, that had caused an untold number of deaths as men and women were overcome by greed for what it could produce — had been destroyed.
Seven floors above, Nina stared at the empty space beyond the window, then went to assist her husband. ‘It’s okay, I’ve got you.’
He put a hand to one ear. ‘What?’ he replied loudly.
‘I said I’ve got you!’
‘All right, no need to shout! Jesus, my ears hurt. What happened, where’s—’ He regarded the window, then looked back at Nina. ‘You got him?’
‘Unless he sprouted wings on the way down, yeah.’ She helped him up, and they both peered at the street below. ‘Oh my God, he’s still alive!’ A weakly moving figure was splayed across the crushed roof of the police car, embedded in the metal.
‘Don’t think he’ll be making a run for it,’ Eddie rumbled. One of the Icelander’s legs had acquired an extra joint halfway down the shin. ‘What about Macy — where’s Macy?’ he barked in sudden alarm.
‘With Holly.’ Nina retrieved his crutch, sparing a moment to glance at Sarah, who was moaning as she clutched her leg. The bullet wound was bloody, but not actually gushing; no major arteries had been torn. ‘Keep your hand pressed on it; there’ll be an ambulance here soon,’ she told her.
Eddie’s accumulated injuries barely slowed him as he hobbled determinedly from the room. ‘Macy!’ he called. ‘Holly, where are you? Macy!’
‘We’re down here!’ came a frantic voice from the stairwell. The couple hurriedly descended, finding Holly with their daughter halfway down. Both were crying.
‘We’re okay, we’re okay,’ Nina assured them. She took Macy and held her tightly. ‘We’re here now, we’re both here.’
‘Mommy!’ cried Macy, wrapping her arms around her mother.
‘What’s Daddy, chopped liver?’ said Eddie, managing a pained smile. He joined the huddle, embracing them both. ‘Jesus Christ, love, I’m so happy to see you.’
Macy let out a little gasp. ‘Daddy! You swore!’
‘Get used to it, kid. I’m back.’ He gave Nina a look to let her know he was joking, then turned at the sound of someone running up the stairs.
A pair of uniformed NYPD officers arrived. ‘You the guy who called Detective Martin?’ one asked Eddie.
‘Yeah,’ replied Eddie, adding to Nina at the mention of his friend on the force: ‘Thought it’d be quicker to tell Amy I needed help than go through 911 and have to explain everything.’ He looked back at the cops. ‘Our little girl’s fine, and we’re all okay. There’s a woman with a gunshot wound on the seventh floor; she’s one of the bad guys.’
‘There’s another bad guy?’ the second cop said.
‘You might want to go check on your car,’ Nina told them. ‘And I mean literally on your car. He went out the window. He’s still alive, though — and currently top of the international most-wanted list, so that should get you some brownie points for catching him.’
The officers exchanged surprised glances, then one took out his radio and reported in as he continued upstairs at a run, the other clattering back down to ground level. Eddie let go of his wife and daughter to hold Holly. ‘You all right?’
‘I’m fine,’ she said, trying not to cry. ‘Oh God! I was so scared. When did babysitting become so dangerous?’
‘Welcome to our world,’ said Nina.
‘No offence, but you might want to find someone else in future.’
‘We won’t be needing anyone. Not any more.’ She nuzzled her daughter. ‘It’s okay, Macy, everything’s okay.’
‘Are you sure, Mommy?’ Macy asked.
She looked at Eddie, who smiled. ‘Yeah, I’m sure, honey. Come on. Let’s go home.’
Epilogue
Nina strolled through the idyllic calm of Central Park’s Shakespeare Garden. It was a beautiful spring morning, the sun climbing in a clear sky and casting a warm light over the carefully maintained flora.
She was in a mood to match the day. Everything had returned to normal — at least, as normal as anything could be in a household containing a three-year-old — and both she and Eddie were well on their way to recovering from the physical wounds of their recent trials.
The mental wounds were another matter, but while her husband preferred to deal with them simply by spending time with Macy, she had her own form of therapy. A third book was already well under way, and she had been approached to produce — or even present — a television documentary series about her archaeological discoveries, an offer that was extremely tempting as it would let her correct the fictionalisations of Hollywood. As for The Hunt for Atlantis itself, whatever her personal opinions of the movie, it had been a box-office hit. A sequel had already been green-lit, meaning she was due another payment from Grant Thorn’s production company. She and her family would be financially secure for some time.
All without the need for anything from the Midas Legacy.
She rounded a bend in the path to see Olivia on a bench ahead. Her grandmother waved. ‘Nina, hello!’ she said. ‘I’m so happy to see you.’
‘Hi,’ Nina replied, sitting beside her. ‘Are you okay?’
‘I’m as fully recovered as anyone my age can hope to be, yes. Thank you. And you?’
‘All’s good, thanks. Eddie and Macy are both fine. I’ve taken her to see a specialist a few times, but she doesn’t seem to have suffered any trauma. Thank God.’
‘Thank God,’ Olivia echoed. ‘I’m very sorry.’
‘For what?’
‘For everything that happened. If I’d simply been honest with you from the start…’
‘What’s past is past,’ said Nina, not wanting to reopen that line of discussion — or argument. Instead, she leaned back, admiring her surroundings. ‘You picked a nice place to meet,’ she said meaningfully.
‘Yes, I’d hoped you would know it.’
‘Of course.’ It was the setting for the photograph they both possessed of Olivia and her daughter. ‘Was that really the last photo of you and Mom together?’
‘It was,’ Olivia said, a little sadly. ‘She went travelling in Europe with a friend over the summer to help her get through losing her father, then started at university that fall, so I saw much less of her. And then, well…’
‘She met Dad.’
‘And my arrogance, my pride, ruined everything.’ She sighed. ‘I miss her so much, Nina. I still do, even after all this time. I wish I could go back and change things, or even just see her one more time, but… as you said, what’s past is past. “The moving finger writes, and having writ, moves on: nor all thy piety nor wit shall move it back to cancel half a line, nor all thy tears wash out a word of it.”’
‘Omar Khayyam,’ said Nina, recognising the words of the Persian poet. ‘But considering where we are, maybe Lady Macbeth’s “Things without all remedy should be without regard: what’s done, is done” might have been more appropriate.’
Olivia nodded. ‘Your parents made sure you had a good education.’
‘They taught me more than I ever learned in school.’
‘I’m glad. I hope you and Eddie do the same for Macy.’