The chamber shook, a single sharp pulse jolting the floor. The treasures rattled as a low, forceful whump rolled around the space.
Eddie’s gaze whipped towards the exit. ‘That was a fucking bomb!’
Banna gawped at him. ‘A bomb? But—’
Another sound thundered through the tunnels, a tearing crunch of falling stone and rubble. The golden tributes juddered again, dust dropping from the arched ceiling. Banna gasped and splayed his upper body over the coffin to protect the figure inside.
The echoes of the impact faded, to be replaced by new noises in the distance.
Gunfire — and screams.
8
‘Jesus!’ cried Nina as the horribly familiar chatter of automatic weapons reached her. ‘They must have blasted their way in!’
‘Who?’ demanded Banna, wide-eyed with confusion and fear.
‘If they’re the same lot as the bloke who came after Nina, they’re fucking Nazis!’ Eddie pulled his wife to her feet. ‘We’ve got to get out of here, or we’ll be trapped. Oi, Hulk!’ he added to Banna, who was still trying to shield Alexander’s remains. ‘It’s not him you need to worry about.’
More gunfire howled down the passage, the pitch and tempo different. ‘The ASPS are shooting back!’ said Assad.
‘Yeah, but it doesn’t sound like there’s as many of ’em.’
‘Where are we going?’ Nina protested as everyone ran into the tunnel. ‘There’s only one way out of here.’
‘Sounded like they blew another one.’ Eddie listened to the battle. Even though his hearing had been degraded by years of exposure to loud, explosive noises, it was the higher frequencies that had been affected the most; he had no trouble picking out the roar of bullets being fired. ‘Jesus, it must be a fucking slaughterhouse.’
‘Are the ASPS winning?’ Nina asked. His grim expression gave her an answer. ‘Oh, crap.’
They re-entered the treasury. It was much darker than before. The reason became clear once they descended the stairs and could see the entrance past the pillars: the spotlights were off. ‘They have cut the power,’ reported the worried Assad. ‘What do we do?’
‘We can’t fight ’em,’ Eddie replied. The firing had stopped — and the last shots he had heard were from the invading force’s guns, suggesting that the defenders had been overrun. ‘If we can shut the door, we might be able to hole up in here until backup arrives.’
‘It weighs two tons!’ Banna protested. ‘And the winch is on the other side. We will never be able to move it.’
‘Won’t know unless we try. Come on! Bill, Dr Assad, give us a hand.’ Eddie ran to the doorway, the other men following.
‘What about us?’ Macy asked, even beneath her fear sounding a little offended on behalf of the three women. ‘We can help too!’
‘Not being sexist, Macy, but you weigh as much as a crispbread. Find somewhere to hide.’ He rounded the great bronze door. ‘Bill, help me push it. You two, pull from the inside.’
The Egyptians took hold of a handle behind the lock and hauled at it as Eddie and Schofield pressed their shoulders against the door’s face. ‘Shit!’ gasped the American. ‘It’s not moving!’
‘It’s wedged on the floor — push harder!’ The bronze barrier shifted slightly as the four men strained, its corner rasping against the stone slabs. A shadow obscured the light from inside the treasury. ‘Nina!’ said Eddie as his wife ran through the opening and joined him. ‘Get back inside!’
‘You won’t close it in time without help,’ she replied through clenched teeth.
‘It won’t matter if it’s shut if you’re on the wrong side of it!’
Nina was about to reply when she heard a noise behind her. ‘Someone’s coming!’
Running footsteps echoed down the passage. ‘Shit, they’re here,’ Eddie growled. Despite their efforts, the gap was still wide enough for a person to fit through. ‘Go and—’
‘Wait!’ said Assad as shouts reached them — in Arabic. ‘It is one of the ASPS!’
Eddie twisted to look down the dark tunnel. A jittering shaft of light appeared from around the last corner. The approaching man had a torch, the beam swinging as he hared down the passage — but the noise of more runners warned the Englishman that his pursuers were not far behind. ‘We’ll never get this door closed,’ he realised.
‘Do we keep pushing?’ Schofield asked.
‘No point now — get inside and hide. You too, Nina.’ He straightened, glancing back as Nina and Schofield ducked through the gap. The running man reached the corner—
The stuttering orange of a gun’s muzzle flash silhouetted the Egyptian against the walls — which were discoloured by splatters of blood. The man fell.
Time was up. ‘Shit! Go!’ Eddie barked, following the others through the opening. He heard a shout from behind. The attackers had seen him. ‘Find cover!’
He dived behind a statue — as more bullets tore through the air above him, smacking into the stone pillars beyond. The door rang like a gong as stray bullets struck it. He scrambled along the floor until he was clear of the danger zone, then jumped up. ‘Hide and turn out the lights!’
Another sustained burst cracked against the stonework. Assuming that anyone inside the tomb could be armed, the attackers were using overwhelming firepower to deter them from shooting back. But the suppressing fire had also cut Eddie off from Nina. She and the others had gone towards the burial chamber, while he — and Macy, whom he glimpsed climbing into a large metal chest — were isolated at the opposite end of the treasury.
More shouts from just outside, spears of light stabbing through the opening. The archaeologists hurriedly switched off their lanterns, Eddie and Nina’s eyes meeting for one last desperate moment before she too disappeared into the darkness. He muttered a curse, then crouched and felt his way through the ranks of tributes in what he hoped was Macy’s direction.
Something flashed through the probing torch beams and clanked loudly on the floor. Eddie guessed what it was, closing his eyes and clamping both hands over his ears, but there was no time to warn the others—
The stun grenade exploded with a piercing bang and a blinding flash. Schofield and Dina had instinctively turned towards the noise when it landed — and both screamed as the detonation overpowered their senses.
Men swarmed through the opening, golden visors shielding their eyes. Powerful tactical lights mounted on their guns pierced the darkness as they searched for targets.
They found two, reeling helplessly from the stun blast.
Guns blazed, short but deadly bursts. The archaeologists were cut down, tumbling bloodily amidst the ancient treasures.
Nina had found cover behind a golden sculpture of Bucephalus, kneeling and protecting her eyes — but the grenade’s crack still hit her like a physical blow. Ears ringing, she struggled to rise…
A bright light pinned her. Still dizzy, she squinted into the glare — and saw a gun taking aim—
A sharp command, and the weapon withdrew, though the spotlight under its muzzle remained locked upon her. Figures marched past, more beams scouring the shadows. She picked out snatches of speech as her hearing returned, but didn’t understand the words. The language sounded familiar, however. German?
Someone moved in front of her, partially shading her from the pitiless light. Nina looked up at an unsmiling man in dark overalls, his eyes hidden behind a visor. The gunman spoke, again in German; the black-haired new arrival replied dismissively, then removed his face shield.
Nina felt a chill of recognition. She had seen him before — at the United Nations. It was Rasche, one of the men whose photographs the FBI had shown her. A wanted Nazi war criminal.
But like his comrade from Los Angeles, he was too young. The man staring down at her with intense, dangerous eyes had aged since the mugshot was taken, but still appeared to be only in his early forties, not much older than Eddie.