Block accepted the pack offered by the driver and took a moment to check his email. Cayman was already inside the Singen tomb and Nicolas Denney was approaching its Icelandic equivalent. A message at this point would be bad news. But there were none. He sent a quick, unnecessary text, alerting the second Hawaiian cell that he’d arrived, warning them to prepare for battle.
The trek was arduous, but worth every laborious step. Block was helped down from the high ledge and, for the first time, observed the carved stone face of Wrath.
“Spectacular, isn’t it?” The driver grinned.
Block ignored him, taking a moment for himself. After a while, he waved the man on, listening to his spiel about how the traps had been counteracted and how relatively easy it had been for a well-armed, well-motivated force to take the tomb. A little further on and they passed through Greed, the little, precious pots of riches now removed to prevent distraction and death. After that came Lust, and Block slowed despite himself, staggered and a little daunted by the extensive amount of carved and painted flesh on display.
“Those gods.” The driver whistled, staying close to Block. “They sure knew how to throw a party, am I right?”
“Please,” Block spoke just the once, expecting the man to understand. Luckily for him, he did and shut his mouth. In silence, they traversed the chamber and soon passed through Envy and Gluttony. It was after this level that the team commander waited for him.
“Sir, all is prepared.” He came forward and gave a slight bow. “If you proceed to the ledge up there—” he pointed to a curved stone wall running around the top of the next rise. “You will see all that you came for.”
Block braced himself and picked his way carefully to the wall. The sight that greeted his eyes beat everything he had yet seen and more, it was the most awe-inspiring, incredible thing he had ever seen in his life.
Odin’s chair. The gargantuan, impossibly carved slab of obsidian hung from the cliff face before him, positioned over a bottomless abyss. An ancient silence filled the place, demanding deference, crawling and shimmering with an unseen, latent power. Only poised here, bowed by its glory, could he truly accept it.
“Now,” he said. “Now I believe.”
The team leader had walked up behind him. “I know exactly what you mean, sir. After witnessing something like this you start to believe anything’s possible.”
Block nodded, impressed with the man’s insight. “I will show the governments of the world what is possible,” he said. “Get everything ready, because after today there will be no government, no dictatorship, no insolent warlord, that will not bow down to me.”
CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT
Not long after Zak Block cleared customs, Hayden and Kinimaka heard the wheels of their private jet squeal and rumble as they hit Hawaiian asphalt. Kinimaka mumbled a little prayer when they landed, not in lieu of their safe landing, but for returning safely again to his homeland. The aircraft had passed close to Diamond Head on its final approach, giving the two SPEAR agents a brief glimpse at the ongoing operation inside the depressed cone. Hayden contacted the local agents and captains in charge whilst in flight, ensuring they would be ready for action sooner rather than later, and smoothing over the inevitable rough corners.
Kinimaka stared out the window as the jet taxied in. “Mixed feelings.” He touched the window. “Good to be back, bad to be here. Know what I mean?”
“Implicitly.”
“You think Cayman and his buddies will switch on that device?”
“If they do, we will stop them.”
“Sure. We ain’t never faced a bad guy we can’t put down.” Kinimaka, seeing they were still alone, at least for the moment, placed an arm around her, conscious not to transfer its full weight to her. “And then maybe we’ll get a break.”
Hayden turned and kissed him. “Sounds good to me. This damn job’s becoming more intense than even I imagined. Good job we have Romero and Smyth on board now. We may even tie down a bit of vacation time.”
“They say Hawaii’s good this time of year.”
“Really?” Hayden squeezed his knee. “I never would have guessed. You don’t want to see Kono? We could spend a few days in LA.”
“Hold that thought.” Kinimaka clicked his tongue. “My sister and I should have at least one thousand miles of air between us when holding a discussion. Especially one where she tells me her plan to come see Mom again.”
“She ran away,” Hayden remembered. “It was a long time ago, Mano. She’ll have changed.”
“She broke Mom’s heart and didn’t care. I remember. We didn’t know… anything.”
At that moment, the co-pilot popped his head around the cabin door. “Hey folks, you’re clear to disembark. Usual fast track checks in the terminal, then a car will be waiting to take you to the base.”
Hayden surprised Kinimaka by kissing him once more. “Don’t worry,” she said, even more stunning up close. “It will work itself out.”
She rose, grabbed her pack and strode down the aisle. Kinimaka hurried after her, a little bedazzled, then realized he’d forgotten his own pack and had to run back. They clattered down the juddering airplane steps and entered the terminal, greeted by a blast of cool air.
Kinimaka cast around, saw the relevant booth and headed straight for the stern-looking man seated inside. Once they had presented their papers, the two were ushered straight through to the central concourse, the inner hub of Honolulu International. Kinimaka stopped to view the high-ceilinged, wide, airy space, basking in the sunlight that streamed in through the windows.
“Ahh,” he said. “I’m relaxed already.”
Shops stood to either side as the pair made their way toward the exit. A DFS Galleria and a Kona Brewing Company, the latter offering one of his favorite brews — the legendary Fire Rock Pale Ale — the sight so appealing he actually began to drift in that direction.
Hayden turned to him and spoke with a hint of warning. “Mano—”
Masked men burst through the doors in front of her. The car they had all piled out of idled at the curb in the public drop-off area, doors flung wide. Kinimaka counted five men before he yelled a warning and tackled Hayden around the waist, dragging her behind an artful display of Maui Divers jewelry exhibits. The leader of SPEAR tumbled ungainly across the floor and ended ass up as the bullets started to fly.
Glass shattered around them, showering down over their bodies. Hayden yelped as a sharp piece sliced the seat of her pants.
“Fucker got me in the ass!” She unholstered her Glock and disengaged the safety, dropping as low as her body would allow. The terminal erupted with noise, screaming and yelling, and the sound of an alarm. People scattered in all directions. Children were dragged into shops or lifted and shielded by parents’ bodies before being tucked out of sight. Luggage slid and tumbled across the floor.
The masked men advanced slowly. More shots rang out and an airport security guard twisted and fell. The front window of DFS Galleria exploded into tiny shards. The sound of crying rose above the braying of the alarm.
Kinimaka took a fleeting look and fired off a shot. It went wide, but gave the invaders pause. Two dropped to their knees, covering. The other three peeled off around the side of the Duty Free. Hayden fired, her bullet hammering into a wall millimeters above her target’s head.
“What is this?” Kinimaka hissed. “Is this for us?”
“I don’t know,” Hayden said. “But it’s sure holding us up.”
More airport security guards ran along the concourse. Hayden waved them to safety, showing her badge. She turned to Kinimaka. “They’ve taken a defensive formation,” she observed. “A bit of mayhem, then digging in. I’m not liking the look of this, Mano.”