Vladimir reach behind him into his waistband and in the bright sunlight a wicked-looking blade flashed into his hand and whipped towards Ethan’s face. Ethan ducked in surprise and backed off.
‘Time to leave,’ Vladimir sneered at Ethan.
Lucy Morgan reached out from where she lay on the ground. ‘No, don’t do it!’
Vladimir ignored her and leaped up onto the platform. Ethan knew that he was going to jump and in a last-ditch attempt to snatch the remains from his grasp Ethan propelled himself forward and leaped up onto the platform.
Vladimir crouched down slightly and then whirled and launched himself off the edge of the platform and out into open air. Ethan’s hit the edge of the platform and he felt it beneath the sole of his boot, the perfectly cut right-angled stone his last connection with solid ground and he knew that he would not be able to stop himself from going further. With a cry of desperation he pushed off as hard as he could and flew out into midair directly above Vladimir and barely a yard away.
Time seemed to stand still as he saw the Russian beneath him still clutching the bundle of fabric under one arm and the knife in his other hand. Ethan felt his stomach plunge as he began to accelerate into the abyss after Vladimir. The cold wind rushed past his face and through his clothes and his shirt rippled as moisture sprinkled his hair and skin as he plummeted towards the clouds below.
Vladimir rolled over in midair as with the knife in one hand and the bundle in the other he spread his arms and legs. Thick webbing spread out like bat’s wings between his upper thighs and between his elbows and waist, and the Russian soared away from Ethan.
Ethan hurled his jacket off and mimicked Vladimir’s movements as the flying suit he had stolen from the Russian gunman in the temple on Macchu Picchu opened out and he felt his plunge arrested as the webbed suit generated lift and he soared in pursuit of Vladimir.
He saw panic on Vladimir’s face as the Russian realized that he was being pursued. For the first time in the fight Ethan’s experience as a Marine parachutist came to his help and he tucked his arms and legs in and accelerated even as Vladimir reached for a parachute release cord on his chest.
Ethan slammed down onto the Russian’s back and his body pinned the chute in its pack as they plummeted together down the gorge, rocketing along at what felt like a hundred miles per hour as their suits let them glide like birds. Wreaths of cloud hurtled by as Vladimir turned the blade in his hand and attempted to stab Ethan in the face.
The blade flashed in the air and Ethan grabbed it, catching not the handle but the blade. He held onto it even though he felt the wickedly sharp edge bite into the flesh of his fingers, and then he reached around Vladimir’s chest and grabbed the handle with his good hand as the Russian turned over in midair. The lift vanished from their webbed suits and they rocketed down through the gorge in a lethal dive as the dense clouds swallowed them whole, nothing visible around them but grey mist that streamed moisture across Ethan’s face. He heard the Russian cry out in panic as he tried to pull his parachute cord again but nothing happened. Ethan grabbed him under the jaw with one hand and with the other he forced the knife up and under the Russians arm and plunged the blade point first toward his chest.
Vladimir cried out and tried to push the blade away. Ethan looked over his shoulder and he knew that they had only seconds before they would plunge from the cloud and down into the rocky depths of the Urabamba River. Vladimir pushed hard against the knife and this time Ethan pulled with him. Vladimir’s arms were yanked away from him and the bundle beneath them tumbled away into mid air.
Vladimir reached for it and his grip on the blade failed him. Ethan tore the knife from him with one brutal yank and then he pushed away from the Russian and slashed the parachute on his back.
Ethan plunged out of the cloud alongside Vladimir, who was grasping for the bundle falling beside him. He grabbed it with one hand and directed a savage grin of victory at Ethan before he pulled his chute cord again. The drogue chute billowed open above them with an audible boom as Ethan saw the Russian shoot away under the immense deceleration, but almost immediately the chute tore apart with a thunderous crack.
Vladimir screamed as he fell alongside the burial shroud and plummeted towards the rocks of the river below. Ethan rolled over and extended his arms and legs as his suit once again generated lift and he soared away. He found his gaze fixed upon the Russian as he plunged the last few hundred feet toward the floor of the gorge and then his body smashed into the rocks with an audible crunch and disintegrated upon impact in a dark flare of crimson blood.
Alongside Vladimir, the burial shroud plummeted into the deep water with a crash and vanished beneath the waves. Ethan looked ahead and saw the sparkling surface of the river’s torrent flowing beneath him, could hear now its roar as it thundered through the narrow gorge barely two hundred feet beneath him.
Ethan reached to his chest and yanked his own parachute cord, heard the chute billow out behind him as he raced down the valley. The chute yanked him to a near-halt and his legs swung up beneath him as he fought for control.
Ethan looked up desperately for the control handles of the chute above him, grabbing them and searching for a place to land. In the turbulent airflow within the valley he had little control over the chute as it swirled this way and that, caught on the gusts blustering through the gorge as the water rushed up toward him.
Ethan took a chance and yanked down hard on one handle and the chute turned and swept in a hard right turn above the waves toward a steep bank densely clogged with a thicket of trees and bushes. The branches rushed by beneath his boots and Ethan took his chance as he released both of the control handles, pinched the release buckle on the suit and pointed his hands straight up in the air above him.
Ethan dropped from the chute harness and plunged into the freezing water. He shielded his face with one arm as he tumbled end over end in the torrent until he finally broke the surface. With a scrambling, desperate frenzy of strokes he reached the shore of a narrow spit of beach hugging one side of the gorge and dragged himself up onto it.
Ethan lay there for a moment and then turned his head to see Vladimir’s shattered corpse float down the nearby river, and further downstream the bobbing form of the burial shroud vanishing into the distance, never to be seen again.
XXXIV
Yuri Polkov sat in silence as he stared out of the Lear jet’s windows at the glorious sunset that swept across the western horizon. The sky was filled with vibrant colors as though a celebration was taking place in the heavens. If ever Yuri needed confirmation that there was no god, no caring omnipotent figure watching over humanity, then the spectacular festival of light and color on such a tragic day was it. Yuri barely heard the words of one of his son’s most trusted aides, Allayn, as he spoke, his voice thick and his eyes focused somewhere above and behind Yuri’s head.
‘We were engaged by a force of American paramilitary soldiers as we entered the city of Macchu Picchu. They pinned us down near the centre of the ruins. I lost count of how many there were, dozens, maybe hundreds. We were forced to retreat and lost about half of our number.’
Yuri rested his chin on his gnarled old hands. ‘Why was Vladimir up there with you?’
Allayn swallowed, his thick bull-neck trembling as he replied.
‘Vladimir wanted to personally oversee the operation and ensure that he obtained the remains you sought. He made a break for it early on during the firefight and pursued Lucy Morgan to an adjacent peak. My men and I attempted to follow them but were cut off by the other American, Ethan Warner, who opened fire on us from close range and forced us back into the soldier’s ambush.’