Now or never—
Eddie dived out of cover, throwing himself flat and bringing up the P90 to blaze away at the ascending helicopter on full auto.
The bullets found their target. One of the aircraft’s windows cracked as an armour-piercing round tore through it, another shot visibly sparking as it struck the solid block of the engine beneath the thin aluminium fuselage. He couldn’t see the results of the other impacts in the darkness, but he could tell from nothing more than the feel of the gun’s recoil that they were tightly grouped — most, if not all, had hit.
But they had done nothing.
The chopper was still climbing, tipping into forward flight as it ascended. No smoke, no sprays of oil or hydraulic fluid. He hadn’t hit anything critical. And now he was out of bullets, exposed on the ground as the mercenaries moved—
They weren’t coming for him. Instead, they ran for the second helicopter, using the encampment and vehicles for cover against the sniper. Eddie scrambled back behind the truck. The P90 was empty. The dead mercenaries had dropped their weapons, but he would be exposed to their comrades’ fire if he tried to retrieve one.
He still had to find some way to fight. Hoyt’s men weren’t fleeing. They were going to take off and hunt down the survivors from the air.
He needed a weapon…
What he found was far from ideal, but desperation left it as the only option.
Bent low, he scurried to the truck that had brought the underwater lifting gear. The unused inflatable buoyancy units were still in its rear bed, along with their air cylinders. He hauled one out. A glance towards the Jet Ranger warned him that the last mercenaries were piling aboard — and in the firelight he saw the barrel of a sniper rifle protruding from an open door.
The same gun that had disabled the expedition’s vehicles was about to be turned on its members.
He ran for the crane. ‘Get everyone behind the trucks!’ he shouted to Nina. But he knew that would not give them much protection once the chopper was airborne. He only had one chance to stop it — and even that was slim.
But he had to take it.
Eddie reached the crane, hitching the IBU to one of the dangling hooks before darting to the winch control and disengaging the brake. He started the motor, then ran back and snatched up the bright orange bag, more of the cable unspooling behind him. He stayed low behind the other vehicles for as long as he could — but knew he would have to cross open ground to reach the helicopter.
‘Hope this fucking cable’s long enough,’ he muttered, crouching behind the last 4x4 to draw in a breath… then sprinting for the chopper.
Ice and grit blasted his face as the Jet Ranger went to full take-off speed. It rocked on its skids as the rotors took its weight. He arced towards it, coming in from behind.
The rifle swung at him—
The Englishman dived to the cold ground and rolled as a bullet ripped through the air above him. Another gunman leaned out, P90 tracking him — and firing. The tail rotor buzzed above Eddie’s head like a circular saw as he scrambled under the helicopter’s rear boom, the vortex pummelling him. The gunfire stopped as the mercenary lost line of sight on his target, but he was already shouting a warning to his comrades on the other side of the cabin.
More guns came up—
Eddie slammed open the valve and hurled the IBU through the open door.
It hit one of the mercenaries hard, the steel cylinder knocking him back — then the tough orange bag snapped open with mousetrap speed as it filled with air.
One end wedged against the door frame — and the dazed mercenary suddenly found himself being forced back into his seat with a pressure that grew more crushing with every moment.
The helicopter took off. One of the men on the other side opened fire on the camp, bullets cracking off the vehicles as the archaeological team took shelter behind them.
A second gunman on Eddie’s side, Silver, leaned out further and took aim—
The rapidly swelling airbag shoved him as he fired. The bullet blew a little crater out of the snow mere inches from Eddie’s skull as he rolled again.
Silver tried to line up another shot — only to realise with horror that he was being squeezed out of the cabin. The other mercenary tried to scream as the pressure on his chest increased, but could only manage a choked gasp.
The helicopter climbed. Forty feet, fifty, the men still firing at the camp—
Silver finally lost his grip as the expanding flotation bag drove him through the open door. He plummeted to the ground, shrieking all the way before hitting the frozen earth with a bone-splintering crack.
The trapped man coughed out a violent spew of red over the shiny orange PVC as a rib broke under the pressure, a jagged shard piercing one of his lungs. One of his companions twisted in his seat to puncture the bag with a burst of gunfire—
The cable snapped taut.
The crane truck’s back end jumped upwards as the ascending helicopter hauled at it, but the vehicle was too heavy for the already fully laden aircraft to lift. The chopper tipped sharply backwards. The pilot battled to regain control, jamming the cyclic stick forward in a panicked attempt to level out.
It was too late. The Jet Ranger spun back towards the camp, engine howling…
Nina’s eyes bugged in horror as she realised it was coming straight at her.
‘Run!’ she screamed, grabbing Tova. Matt also burst from the shelter and sprinted for the lake, the other team members scattering as the aircraft plunged towards them…
Its tail boom crumpled as it hit the ground back end first, then the main rotor carved into the frozen surface like a monstrous scythe. The blades shattered, ripping away from the hub and sending debris flying in all directions. Nina threw Tova flat as shrapnel whipped over them. The chopper’s shattered carcass tumbled through the camp, disintegrating in flames as it hit a truck. Wreckage mowed Mathias down as he ran. One of the Norwegians was also struck, screaming as a chunk of mangled metal ripped into his leg.
The helicopter’s remains finally came to rest. Nina raised her head. The truck hit by the aircraft was crumpled like wet cardboard, a trail of fire leading from it to the burning wreck. It didn’t seem possible that anyone aboard could have survived the crash, and she was in no hurry to offer assistance if someone had. ‘Are you okay?’ she asked Tova. The Swede shakily brushed her hair from her face and nodded. ‘Stay here — I’m going to check on the others.’
She started back into what was left of the camp. Stunned figures slowly rose in the firelight; Matt, Peder, Mikkel, two of his team. But she didn’t see the one she was most concerned about. Where was Eddie?
‘Nina!’ A shout quelled her rising fears. Relieved, she turned to see her husband trudging towards her. ‘You all right?’
She ran to Eddie and embraced him. ‘Oh God! You’re okay, you’re okay!’
‘So are you,’ he said, holding her tightly and kissing her. ‘Jesus. Fucking Hoyt…’ He lifted his head. The EC175 was heading rapidly away to the west.
‘And Logan,’ said Nina. ‘That son of a bitch! What the hell is all this about?’
The question prompted memories, which in turn led to deductions — none of which she liked. She stepped back. ‘You know something about this,’ she said, trying to maintain a semblance of calm. ‘Who is Hoyt, and how do you know him? And what’s he got to do with the runestone?’ He didn’t answer. The veneer cracked. ‘Dammit, Eddie!’ she yelled, fury erupting. ‘Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?’
He looked away. ‘Because I made a promise,’ he said, conflict clear in his voice. ‘But… he didn’t.’