A couple of the golden shields on the roof broke loose and dropped to the ground with echoing clangs, clods of soil falling between the newly exposed beams. ‘Shit!’ said Eddie. ‘They’re in.’
Shouts echoed through the tunnels outside — along with the muffled clamour of footsteps. ‘What do we do?’ Nina asked. She swept her torch around the walls. The wooden doors through which they had come were the only apparent exit.
‘If we give up and let them photograph the runes, they might let us go,’ Tova suggested fearfully.
‘Hoyt’s not going to offer us any deals.’ Eddie hustled to one of the tables near the doors and tipped it on to its side. The chainmail vests slid off and fell to the floor. He grabbed a couple and draped them over the thick old oak as extra protection. ‘He’s got no reason to let us live. Kagan, we’ll have to hold ’em off as long as we can. Have you got a spare magazine?’
The Russian overturned another table. ‘One only.’
‘Make every shot count, then. Some of ’em got hit by the booby-trap — if they start running out of people, they might fall back.’ The noises from the tunnels grew louder; the intruders had spotted the broken roots and knew which way to go to follow their quarry. ‘Nina, you and Tova find cover and stay down.’
‘Wait, what about me?’ Berkeley quailed as the women crouched behind the wooden thrones.
‘They’re your friends, what are you worried about?’ Nina said.
‘Then maybe I should just walk out of here.’
‘Or maybe you should shut the fuck up and keep your head down,’ barked Eddie.
‘Or, yes, that.’ Berkeley scuttled to hide behind one of the benches.
‘Nina, put your light down and point it at the doors,’ the Englishman told her, doing the same with his own torch. The twin beams illuminated the entrance. They were not blindingly bright, but he hoped they would produce enough dazzle to confuse anyone entering the large room, even if only for a moment.
He readied the Wildey. A moment was all he needed.
Footsteps in the hallway outside. Low voices; the mercenaries had seen the light coming through the part-open doors. He knew from his own training what Hoyt and his men would be thinking. There was only one way in — but anyone taking it would be completely exposed. Would they try to reconnoitre first… or gamble on the shock tactics of a sudden frontal assault?
The voices dropped to urgent whispers. One issued an impatient command. Eddie couldn’t make out the words, but knew who had spoken them: Hoyt. Whatever the mercenaries planned, they were about to do it. He watched intently for any movement through the gap.
Someone shifted in the shadows. Not at the door, but several yards back down the barricaded passage. Eddie caught the faint gleam of gunmetal as a man brought up his P90 to shoot out the lights…
The Englishman fired first, the Wildey’s retort like cannonfire. Tova shrieked and covered her ears. The man outside flew backwards with a thumb-sized hole in his sternum — and an exit wound the size of a clenched fist in his back. ‘Holy fuck!’ someone gasped.
‘Hoyt!’ Eddie shouted as the gunshot’s echoes faded. ‘That was your warning — pack up and fuck off.’
A pause, then a humourless laugh came from the tunnel. ‘Chase, God damn. You’re like fuckin’ lung cancer — we think we’ve got rid of you, but then you pop back up and make life shit.’ He gave an order, but too quietly for Eddie to make out. ‘Y’know, we’ve had our differences, but we could reach a deal here. There’s a lot of money to be made.’
‘Go to hell,’ barked Kagan. ‘We will not let you find the source of the eitr. And your spy Slavin is dead.’
More muttering. ‘Is that Kagan?’ said Hoyt. ‘It’s getting like a damn high school reunion around here. Although there’s someone who’ll never get to attend, ain’t there, Chase? A cute little German girl?’
‘Bastard,’ Eddie growled, before raising his voice. ‘We smashed the runes, Hoyt! You’ll never find the other eitr pit.’
‘I reckon I’d like to see that for myself.’
‘Stick your head round the door and have a look.’
Hoyt did not reply at once, instead whispering to somebody. When he spoke again, Eddie was instantly on alert: there was anticipation in the American’s voice, even though he was trying to hide it. The mercenaries were about to make their move. ‘I think I’ll pass on that, Chase. But how about you—’
He broke off as someone kicked open one of the doors. Eddie snapped the Wildey around, but the man had already jerked back behind the wall.
A hand whipped into view, lobbing an object into the room. Eddie caught the briefest glimpse of something small and pale with a metal tube sticking from it as it flew overhead.
A glimpse was all he needed. It was a chunk of plastic explosive, the tube a detonator. It weighed little more than thirty grams — but an ounce of explosive was more than enough.
‘Down, get down!’ he screamed, throwing himself flat as the bomb arced down—
The detonation blasted a table apart and scattered discarded weapons and chainmail in all directions. Even prepared and protecting his senses as best he could, Eddie was still dazed.
Kagan had been slightly slower to dive for cover. He paid the price, a sharp chunk of pulverised wood stabbing through his coat into his shoulder like a dagger. Further away, Berkeley howled as the blast slammed the bench against him. Even at the far end of the room, Nina and Tova were knocked down and left stunned. The sun compass skittered across the dais.
Eddie forced his way through the pain and disorientation to open his eyes. He couldn’t see much — his torch had been sent spinning away, only dim outlines of the room’s furniture visible. The Wildey was still firmly in his right hand, however. He raised it and lifted his head—
Men were rushing into the room, weapons up and ready.
He swung his gun towards the pack, searching for Hoyt, but knew he was already too late. Bright lights pinned him. ‘Drop it, motherfucker!’ someone bellowed.
Defeated, Eddie turned the gun upwards. But before he could release the Wildey, someone pulled it from his hand. Blinking in the glare, he looked up to see Hoyt smirking at him. ‘Nice gun,’ said the mercenary leader. ‘Get up. Move over there.’ He gestured towards the far end of the room.
The injured Kagan was dragged to his feet, other mercenaries advancing through the chamber with their lights and guns aimed at Nina, Tova — and to Eddie’s surprise, Berkeley. The group was soon surrounded on the dais.
‘Search ’em,’ ordered Hoyt. As his men patted down the prisoners, the American pulled out the Wildey’s magazine and tossed it into the shadows, then racked the slide to eject the chambered round. It clinked on the stone floor. ‘They armed?’ he asked as he threw the gun away. The responses from the mercenaries were all in the negative.
‘What about the runes?’ said another man, also American. Eddie felt a sudden twinge of recognition. He knew the voice, even after eight years.
Hoyt shone a light over the wall. ‘Looks like they tried to smash ’em.’
‘Let’s hope for their sakes that they didn’t destroy anything crucial.’ The mercenaries stepped apart to let the speaker on to the dais.
Ivor Lock pulled down his hood, surveying the runes before turning to the prisoners. ‘Hello again, Chase.’
27
Eddie stared disdainfully at the new arrival. The passage of almost a decade had not changed Lock much; his hair and the goatee beard had greyed, and his face was fuller, but otherwise he was the same as in their last encounter. ‘Ivor Lock. Should’ve known. Hoyt doesn’t have the brains to do anything without you having your hand up his arse like a glove puppet.’