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‘Tell the men to keep shooting — no, wait!’ The obese Nazi twisted in his seat, glimpsing the wrecked and burning ammo truck before it was blocked from his view by the rest of the train. ‘Detach the rear car! It’s dragging on the ground; they’ll crash into it!’

Rasche shouted the order to the men behind, while Walther brought up his gun.

‘Don’t shoot, don’t shoot!’ Nina cried as Zane prepared to strafe the train again. ‘You might hit Eddie!’

‘Where is he?’

‘Where do you think?’ She pointed at the locomotive. A familiar stocky, balding figure stood in the cab.

The Israeli made a tsk! sound, then redirected his aim at the Nazis in the wagons. ‘Is it okay if I shoot them?’

‘Go right ahead — wait, what’re they doing?’ A command had been passed down the train, and now a man was being hoisted from the door of the second-to-last truck by the others inside. He clambered on to the roof, then hurried along it to climb down into the gap in front of the ammo car. ‘Shit! They’re going to uncouple it!’ A moment later, the burning wagon separated from the train, rapidly falling behind as the smashed bodywork scraped along the track bed like an anchor.

Zane fired, the climber falling and being run over by the ammo truck, then darted to the brake wheel. ‘We’ve got to stop! If we hit it—’

‘I’m not leaving Eddie!’ said Nina.

Her determined, anguished face told the Mossad agent that the only way she would abandon her husband would be if she were unconscious, or dead. Unwilling to put her into either state, he nevertheless took hold of the brake control. ‘If we don’t, we’ll never make it around the next bend.’

Nina took in the track below. ‘Slow us down — but don’t stop,’ she told Zane as she moved to the compartment’s left side to act as a counterweight. ‘I’ve got an idea.’

He turned the wheel. The remaining brake shoes closed, sparks flying again. ‘What?’ he shouted over the noise.

‘If we’re still moving fast enough when we catch up with that truck, we’ll ram it right off the track!’

‘Or we might go right off the track — or it could blow up and take us with it!’

‘Just do it,’ she ordered. Zane gave her a somewhat sarcastic yes, ma’am look.

The van entered the tight left hairpin — faster than before. Both its passengers had to strain to stay upright. Stray rounds from the burning ammo box struck wood, Zane flinching as one seared past his head.

The wheels on the inside of the bend skipped along the rail as the van tipped. The Israeli turned beseechingly towards Nina, wanting to brake harder, but she shook her head. ‘Keep going! We’re almost—’

The vehicle lurched as the rusted track buckled under the stress. Nina shrieked and lost her footing. Both inside wheels left the ground, the wagon starting to overturn—

Zane let go of the brake and threw himself at the inside wall. The impact and shift in weight arrested the van’s roll… then it fell back down, kicking up a huge burst of sparks as the wheels hit the rail, and flew out of the curve like a slingshot stone. Nina and Zane exchanged relieved glances — which vanished as they remembered what was waiting for them.

He jumped up to look ahead — and immediately dived back to the floor. Nina took his hint and did the same—

The brake van rammed the trundling ammo truck, the latter’s dragging bodywork tearing away as the collision propelled it forward. The two couplers locked together — and the wagons raced down the hill after the train with ever-increasing speed.

Nina raised her head to see the less-than-ideal result of her plan. ‘Buggeration and fuckery!’

Eddie saw the brake van almost overturn on the loop, but then his view was blocked by the passenger carriage. A glance from the cab reassured him that Nina and Zane had made it around — but his brief appearance drew fire from Walther. The German bellowed more orders.

The Englishman could guess what they were: Walther was telling his men to climb out and move along the train to retake the engine. He couldn’t cover both sides at once; sooner or later they would overpower him.

He would have to take the fight to them first.

The next right-hand hairpin was approaching. Eddie thought for a moment, then pulled the throttle lever open. The loco’s huffing exertion increased. He scrambled on top of the coal bunker behind the cab, then jumped on to the first carriage’s roof — and ran.

Its occupants heard him. ‘Tötet ihn! Tötet die Engländer!’ Kroll yelled. Bullets punched up through the metal behind Eddie’s feet. He yelled, jumping over the gap behind the passenger coach to land on the first of the goods wagons.

The loot truck. The Nazis’ most precious possessions were under guard inside.

Not for long.

Handrails ran above the doors on each side. Eddie shoved the gun into his jacket as he angled right — and jumped, twisting in mid air to grab the railing as he fell.

The train swept into the turn at dangerous speed. Eddie swung through the open door at the two Nazi guards—

The nearest took the Englishman’s feet to his stomach. He flew backwards and disappeared with a shriek through the other doorway.

Eddie landed and drew his gun — but the second guard dived at him. Both men fell against the pithos, tearing loose one of the ropes holding it. The Nazi pinned Eddie down, driving a knee into his stomach before swiping the pistol from his hand.

The Yorkshireman pounded a retaliatory fist into the Nazi’s side. The other man yelled. Eddie twisted, trying to throw him off — but the soldier’s hands clamped around his throat and squeezed with vice-like force.

31

Flames from the ammo truck whipped back at the brake van, more bullets cooking off like deadly firecrackers. ‘This thing could blow any second,’ Zane warned. ‘Great plan!’

‘I’m an archaeologist, not Casey Jones!’ Nina shouted back. ‘We’ve got to disconnect it!’

‘By “we”, you mean…’ the Israeli muttered as he went to the front veranda, arms raised to protect his face from the heat. Nina took the brake as he leaned over the barrier and groped for the coupler’s release handle.

It was just out of reach. He pushed himself further, toes leaving the floor as his fingertips rubbed the rust-scabbed metal—

A grenade explosion shook both wagons. The lurch sent the Mossad agent over the wooden wall. He kicked his legs back to counterbalance himself, but too late.

He dropped—

His right hand clamped around the coupler handle — and he forced his arm straight, taking all his weight on his wrist and locked elbow. But he couldn’t hold himself upright. He slowly slid sideways, about to fall under the brake van’s whirling wheels…

Nina grabbed his legs. ‘I’ve got you!’ Zane gasped in breathless relief, then tugged the lever.

It didn’t move.

He tried again, harder. It shifted, but the couplers remained locked. The collision had buckled the metal.

More ordnance detonated, flinging out shrapnel. Nina ducked, then strained to haul the Israeli back into the caboose. Her plan had failed, and now they faced a choice between being blown up or flung off the track—

‘Wait, wait!’ he yelled. ‘It’s moving, I’ve got—’

A harsh clank — and Nina fell backwards, dragging Zane with her. The coupler opened, separating the two wagons… but they were still rolling downhill at matching speeds, racing towards the next hairpin. ‘Get the brake!’ he yelled.

She scrambled to the pillar and twisted the wheel. The brake van shuddered, slowing — and the other wagon suddenly raced away as if propelled by a rocket. Zane joined her, tightening the brakes’ grip.

Trailing smoke, the ammunition truck reached the bend and whipped around it. For one impossible moment, it seemed as if the runaway wagon would make it through the turn… then its front wheels jolted off the track. It bounded over the sleepers and careered down the hillside, crashing into a clump of scrawny trees and coming to a precarious halt not far above a lower leg of the track.