‘Find out in a second,’ Eddie replied as he crouched beside the door. ‘Okay, I’ll draw his fire; you run after the third shot.’
‘What if there is a fourth shot?’
‘Then we’re fucked!’ He steeled himself, then leaned out, gun raised.
Simeon was lurking behind the machinery, watching the entrance. He saw the movement and instinctively fired — but he had been aiming higher, expecting someone to run through it. The bullet hit the door frame just above the Yorkshireman’s head. He adjusted his aim, but Eddie returned fire, his shot ricocheting off the transformer’s side. Simeon flinched, his next attack going wide and blasting plaster from the wall.
One bullet left. Eddie sent a second round in his enemy’s general direction, then sprang out into the open.
The tourist display Nadhar had mentioned was off to the left, closer than Simeon’s cover. He raced for it, some sixth sense prompting him to dive as the American tracked him and fired again. The bullet seared over him, blowing out one of the display’s flat screens.
The third shot — and there was no fourth. The Glock’s slide was locked back. The weapon was out of ammo… but Simeon was already ejecting the spent magazine.
‘Now! Run, run!’ Eddie yelled as he scrambled behind the display. Rajhi and Nadhar erupted from the doorway. The Saudi official followed Eddie, but the hotel’s security chief headed straight for Simeon’s position. ‘No, he’s reloading—’
Too late. Simeon whipped his gun back up and fired. The bullet hit the running man squarely in the heart. Nadhar fell as the American drew back behind the humming machine.
Rajhi cursed. ‘What do we do now?’
‘I don’t know, but whatever we do, it’s got to be fast.’ Eddie surveyed the machine room. It was a large, high-ceilinged space, dominated by the four giant clock mechanisms in the middle of each wall. Massive electric motors turned the hands outside, great brass gears slowly rotating to keep the time. Grey metal panels mostly covered the back of each clock, but around each hub was an opening to allow access to the mechanism. Beyond them were visible the complex webs of wiring feeding the millions of LEDs that illuminated the clock faces at night. More banks of machinery provided power, and additional cover was offered by a replica mechanism at the room’s centre, as well as further displays for visitors.
He looked back at Simeon’s position. The American couldn’t defend both sides of the large machine at once, but there was no cover along the most direct approach from either direction. ‘We’ll have to get around him, use this stuff for protection,’ he said, indicating the chamber’s contents. ‘If you get a shot, take it.’
Rajhi nodded, then cocked his head at a sound. ‘What is he doing?’
Eddie strained to listen, hearing a faint tearing above the background noise. ‘Shit! The bomb taped to the statue — he’s taking it off.’
‘Why?’
‘So he can blow up something else. Maybe us…’ His eyes went back to the exposed section of the northern clock face. ‘Or he might be trying to make a hole so he can chuck the statue out.’
Rajhi looked dubious. ‘He will not reach the Grand Mosque from here.’
‘He doesn’t need to — the gas’ll still kill everyone outside the hotel.’ He moved around the rear of the display. ‘I’ll get behind that model,’ he said, pointing at a scale replica of the clock tower in a glass case. ‘Cover me.’
He brought up his gun — and ran.
Simeon broke off his task to swing out from behind the machine and fire. Eddie simultaneously unleashed a suppressing shot back at him. The Englishman felt a whipcrack of displaced air on the back of his neck as the round seared past, but his own bullet forced his attacker to retreat. He dropped down behind the model clock, then looked around its plinth — to see the American lean out from the other side of his hiding place.
Another exchange of fire, and broken glass showered Eddie as a round punched through the case. His own retaliatory shot hit the machine Simeon was using for shelter. This time it did not simply glance off; something sparked, its electrical hum turning into a menacing growl. A warning buzzer rasped on a control panel.
Simeon looked up at it in alarm before pulling back into cover. Eddie moved to the other side of the plinth. If he could force him into the open…
A yellow cover on the machine’s side bore a warning symbol. He locked on to it and fired again. The plastic shield flew off, some component beneath shattering. There was a sharp crack of electricity and more sparks spewed out, followed by a spurt of smoke as the growl grew louder—
Simeon broke from hiding as flames spat from the transformer, running for the north clock with the statue held in his outstretched left hand. Eddie hesitated, not wanting to risk breaking the angel.
Rajhi opened fire, sending several shots after the running man. Simeon dived to the floor, his hat and the fake dreadlocks flying off. Eddie tracked him, but now his target was shielded behind a display of gleaming giant cogs.
The Saudi moved into the open and took aim—
Simeon was faster, unleashing a trio of shots. Only one hit, but that was enough. Rajhi fell with a cry of pain, blood staining his robes.
Eddie instinctively glanced to check if he was alive or dead. The former, for now, but in the split second his eyes were off Simeon, the American had burst back into motion. He recovered his aim and zeroed in—
The former Marine had the same combat sixth sense as the Englishman, ducking and jinking just as Eddie fired. The bullet hit him, but only a graze, ripping the shoulder of his colourful robe. He gasped, but kept running, disappearing behind the clock’s hulking mechanism.
And now Eddie was out of ammunition, the revolver’s six rounds gone. He looked back at Rajhi, but the security official’s automatic was nowhere in sight. Searching for it would make him an easy target. ‘Maybe I can throw this at him,’ he muttered, glaring at his useless weapon.
There was another tourist display near the north clock’s motor, more screens flashing up images of the tower. From there, he might be able to round the mechanism and tackle his opponent.
Might. Even at a sprint, it would still take him a few seconds to cover the distance, more than enough time for Simeon to put a bullet in him.
But he had to try. Sounds of activity reached him; he couldn’t see what Simeon was doing, but knew it couldn’t be anything good. Keeping the gun raised, he readied himself… and ran.
The crunch of glass underfoot gave him away the instant he moved. Simeon whipped into view. With a yell, Eddie pointed the revolver at him. The sight of the gun caused the American to flinch — but then he realised the bluff and opened fire.
The distraction had given Eddie the tiny advantage he had needed, though. The shots passed behind him. Before Simeon could refine his aim, he flung himself headlong behind the display stand.
But he was not safe even there. More bullets tore across the room, revealing the display’s backing as nothing more than painted plywood. Splinters stabbed at Eddie as he scrambled along on his hands and knees. One of the screens above him exploded as a round ripped through it, falling glass hitting his head.
The gunfire stopped. Eddie peered around the display. Simeon had moved back behind the mechanism. A shadow on the panels backing the clock revealed that he was placing the explosive beside the hub. Once he used the bomb to blow open the clock face, he would be able to hurl the angel into the crowds below…
The bomb. Simeon would have to move away from it or be caught in the blast. If Eddie could get close enough, he might be able to catch the American before he could throw the statue.
He stood — then sprinted for the clock.