Nina grimaced as she saw a warning sign; she couldn’t read the Icelandic text, but the international explosive hazard symbol was clear even in the half-light. ‘Jesus! It’s lucky he didn’t blow the whole place up.’
Eddie glanced at the sign, then — to her alarm — grinned. ‘Yeah, ’cause it means I can give him another chance.’
‘What does he mean?’ Olivia asked her granddaughter with growing concern.
Nina took her hand again. ‘When he gets that face? You want to be moving away from him, fast.’ She hurried down the line of gleaming gas tanks, drawing Olivia with her. Eddie didn’t follow. ‘What’re you doing?’
‘Just get outside.’ He flipped the axe around to favour the sharp point at the other end of its head. ‘I need to pass some gas.’
‘No, don’t!’ the horrified Olivia cried as he swung. ‘It’ll expl—’
The point stabbed into the first tank’s steel skin with a clang — then was blown clear as hydrogen sulphide jetted out.
Eddie reeled as the escaping gas tore at his clothing. If the smell in the turbine room had been bad, this was more like a chemical attack. He closed his eyes and held his breath, burying his face into the crook of his arm for protection — he was now literally standing in a cloud of poison. Another alarm wailed as detectors registered the deadly substance.
He waved the axe in what he thought was the direction of the exit, trying to find a pipe to use as a guide, then abruptly drew it back. Stainless steel, at least the kind used to contain explosive chemicals, wouldn’t spark, but that might not be true of the blade. He turned it over to grip it by the head, using the wooden handle like a blind man’s stick to feel his way forward. He had to get clear before the guard reached the entrance.
The handle barked against something in front of him. The route to the exit had been clear of obstructions. He was off-course, and realised with growing fear that he had lost his bearings. The roar of gas echoed off the walls, seeming to come from all around him. The howling alarms increased the confusion. A couple more sweeps of the axe revealed an open path… but was he facing the exit, or back towards the turbine room?
Even closed, his eyes were stinging. If he opened them, however briefly, they could be permanently damaged. He had to get clear of the ruptured tank, but if he went the wrong way, the gunman would kill him before the gas could.
He knew what he had to do. It was a huge risk, but there was no choice. He moved his arm just enough to expose his mouth, using the last of the air in his lungs to shout, ‘Nina!’
Even exhaling, that was enough to burn his lips and sear his tongue. He clamped his mouth shut again. If Nina was replying, he couldn’t hear her over the noise. But he couldn’t call out again without taking a fatal breath.
He had to move. A fifty-fifty chance: either he was going towards her, or he would die. Sweeping the axe again, he started forward. Another roar, but this was inside his own head — blood rushing in his ears as his body ran out of oxygen—
‘Eddie!’
Faint, seeming miles distant — but ahead. He found some reserve of strength and increased his pace. The wooden shaft thunked against pipework, again and again — then nothing. He remembered that the pipes turned inwards at the base of each tank. The way the steel vessels were spaced, that put him about twenty-five feet from the leak. Far enough to risk a breath? Not yet.
Nina shouted again, but now his reserves were gone. He shuffled on, feet turning to lead. Thunk, thunk, thunk of wood against steel—
Another gap. Fifty feet. The hole was only small, and the room big. Was he far enough away? The alarms kept wailing, but with a gas this toxic they would warn of even a small release. Wouldn’t they?
It didn’t matter. If he didn’t breathe right now, he would pass out—
He drew in a desperate gasp of air.
The disgusting taste filled his mouth… but he stayed conscious, and upright. He might suffer some after-effects, but he was clear of the most deadly concentration of the gas. Tears stung his eyes as he opened them, but he saw Nina at the doorway, frantically urging him on. ‘Eddie, over here!’
He headed towards her, pace quickening as he took another breath. ‘Get out,’ he rasped. ‘Get outside! Quick!’
She was about to protest, but then realised from long experience that something catastrophic could happen at any moment. She darted through the door. Eddie ran after her, glancing back at the punctured tank as he reached the exit. A plume of gas was still gushing from the hole, swirling around the pipework before dispersing invisibly into the air.
The turbine room door crashed open.
The gunman charged through, staggering to a halt and clapping a hand over his nose and mouth as the stench hit him. He was about to retreat when he saw Eddie. The Englishman deliberately held his ground as the guard’s weapon came up—
Now Eddie moved, slamming the door — as the man fired.
The gunshot was drowned out by a massively larger detonation as the muzzle flash ignited the flammable gas. The hydrogen sulphide instantly became a fireball, incinerating the man a fraction of a second before his charred corpse was disintegrated by the exploding gas tank.
The blast tore apart the pipework, releasing still more fuel into the conflagration — and the other tanks went up like a chain of truck-sized firecrackers.
The switchover to the emergency diesel generators had warned Mikkelsson that something was badly wrong in the generator room, prompting him to speed up his departure plans. ‘Ana, take this,’ he told his daughter, handing her the small Crucible. ‘We’re going to the airport.’
‘Already?’ she asked, surprised. ‘There’s no way Olivia and the others can be a threat to us now. They’ll never get out of here.’
‘It’s not Olivia I’m worried about. De Klerx!’ The Dutchman, who had stayed to protect the family rather than join the hunt for the fugitives, snapped to attention. ‘Sarah and I will take the jeep with the large Crucible. You drive. Follow us,’ he added to Anastasia, who had been about to object to being separated from her lover. ‘Take one of the men as a bodyguard.’
‘You’re that worried about Nina and her husband?’ asked Sarah as De Klerx used his radio.
‘I’ve read their IHA file,’ Mikkelsson replied, leading the way past the bodies of the Lonmores towards the exit. ‘Chase is especially dangerous — he’s a trained killer — but even Nina has a talent for survival. I would never underest—’
A percussive thump shook the floor — then the entire hotel seemed to jump a foot off the ground as a series of pounding explosions ripped through the building. Mikkelsson staggered, De Klerx rushing to shield Anastasia as more windows shattered. ‘Oh my God!’ Sarah cried. ‘What the hell was that?’
Mikkelsson opened the doors to the hallway. The main reception area was shrouded in steaming mist, but now swirling black smoke broke through it and spread malignantly along the ceiling towards them. ‘The hydrogen sulphide tanks,’ he growled. ‘They must have blown them up!’
‘Then they’re dead,’ snapped De Klerx. ‘Nobody could have survived that.’
‘I’m not going to bet our lives on it.’ He jabbed a finger at the Dutchman’s walkie-talkie. ‘Call in your men, find out how many are still alive. We’re leaving, now. Make sure Olivia and the others don’t follow.’
Nina had just reached the exterior door and pushed Olivia through when the gas tanks exploded. She was thrown against the wall, a hot shock wave of reeking air rushing past. New alarms clamoured in meaningless warning. ‘Oh God,’ she gasped. ‘Eddie!’