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She backed away from the ruin, turning east. ‘As long as they think they can use him to get the jar back, they’ll keep him alive.’

‘And how long will they keep thinking that?’

‘Hopefully longer than it takes me to figure out how to rescue him!’

Less than happy with the answer, Macy checked the case for damage, then wrapped a seat belt round it to hold it in place. ‘Holy crap!’ she squeaked, seeing what else was attached to the webbing. ‘There are two hand grenades on this thing!’

‘Leave them alone,’ Nina cautioned.

‘But they’re jiggling about and banging against each other! What if they blow up?’

‘They’ll be fine as long as you don’t pull out the pins.’ She half smiled, remembering a time when Eddie had given her a similar lesson, then focused her attention on the empty plain ahead.

Shaban’s team exited the pyramid to find the Zubr’s pilot waiting. The man hastily explained the situation to Khaleel in Arabic before pointing eastwards. Eddie saw a dust trail heading into the shimmering distance. ‘Told you you wouldn’t catch her.’

‘My hovercraft can do forty knots over any terrain,’ Khaleel told him smugly, nodding towards the giant vehicle. ‘Can your truck do that?’

‘Maybe not, but can yours fit down a twenty-foot-wide ravine?’

‘It won’t need to,’ Diamondback drawled. ‘We got some other toys.’

Shaban gave an order, and the troopers raced for the Zubr. ‘We can still catch her,’ he told the others, gesturing for them to follow. A cruel, crooked smile for Eddie. ‘I’ll make sure you have a good view.’

They started towards the hovercraft, Diamondback prodding Eddie along with his revolver. They were about three-quarters of the way there when the roar of engines echoed from inside it. A pair of small vehicles exploded from the Zubr’s hold and flew down the ramp, landing in a spray of sand and snarling off in pursuit of the Land Rover. Eddie recognised them as Light Strike Vehicles - militarised dune buggies, little more than an open frame with four wheels, a powerful engine . . . and a machine gun, mounted on a turret above the driver. They weren’t attractive, or comfortable - but there was one thing he knew they definitely were, even over desert sand: fast.

Much faster than the Defender.

‘The chase begins,’ Shaban proclaimed. He gave Eddie another nasty smile. ‘A shame it won’t be a long one.’

They ascended the ramp. The Zubr’s hold was stark and utterly utilitarian, a metal box cavernous enough to accommodate three battle tanks or over three hundred fully equipped soldiers. At the moment, it was home to several dirty yellow excavators and earthmovers, as well as another dune buggy and pallets of equipment and supplies for desert operations. Eddie guessed the Osirian Temple had expected to do a lot more digging to find the pyramid.

Khaleel went to a control panel and called the bridge on a telephone handset. He issued a command. A few seconds later, a rising turbine whine echoed through the space as the Zubr’s main engines started, followed by louder buzzing rasps from the four massive lift fans behind the hold’s long bulkheads. The vessel wallowed as air was pumped into the skirt, lifting the hulking vehicle off the ground amidst a swirling cloud of sand.

Khaleel operated a control to raise the ramp. Hydraulics skirled, the metal wedge slamming shut with a reverberating bang. The wind died away, but if anything the noise became louder as the engines came to full power.

Diamondback scaled the ladder in the hold’s centre, and waited for Eddie to follow him up to the cramped superstructure. At the top, the American shoved him against a wall, pulling his arms behind his back. Eddie grunted at the pain from the bullet wound.

‘Shoulda done this in the pyramid,’ Diamondback drawled as he fastened his wrists together with a plastic zip-tie. ‘You’d have had a hard time gettin’ across that rope over the pit, but I woulda loved to watch you try.’

He pushed him towards a door. Eddie surreptitiously tested his restraints. They were too tight for him to slip loose, the plastic teeth digging into his skin. He needed to find another way to get free.

If there was one.

‘Uh-oh,’ said Macy, looking through the Land Rover’s rear window. ‘Dune buggy attack!’

Nina checked the mirror and saw two black shapes pounding through the desert after them. It only took a moment to see that they were gaining. Fast. She searched ahead for anything that might help. The desolate plain was devoid of anything but rippling sand dunes, the ravine still miles distant.

She glanced at the equipment webbing on the case. A knife and two grenades. Eddie could probably have MacGyvered some ingenious weapon out of them, but since she doubted the pursuing drivers would let her get within stabbing range, she was just left with throwing the grenades. And if they saw her doing so, to escape they only had to turn away . . .

The idea that came to her was so simple it seemed almost ridiculous. But it was their only hope.

If she could pull it off.

She scanned the desert again, more urgently. She needed a big enough dune—

Macy shrieked and ducked as a line of bullet impacts raked across the sand, kicking up dusty little geysers as they homed in on the Land Rover. Nina slid low in her seat, turning the wheel - but not quickly enough. The rear window shattered and holes ripped open in the Defender’s aluminium sides.

Another crackle of gunfire as the second gunner joined in. Burning orange lines of tracer fire streaked past as Nina changed direction again. She knew she couldn’t stay out of their sights for long—

More metal shredded as another burst of bullets stabbed through the bodywork. The windscreen cracked, the window beside Nina blowing out as a tracer round seared through the cabin. A couple of inches lower and it would have hit her in the head.

She spun the wheel, the Land Rover almost tipping over as it slewed through the sand. A pair of holes exploded in the back of the centre seat just above the case. Macy screamed.

Nina straightened out, the LSVs turning to follow. She looked ahead. There was a dune, a long, languid zigzag with an angular wind-carved ridge running along it. Perfect - if they could reach it . . .

Mirror. One of the buggies was about two hundred yards directly behind, following their tracks. ‘Take the wheel!’ Nina shouted.

Macy stared in disbelief. ‘What?’

‘Take over, drive!’ She gestured for her to slide across.

Macy did so. ‘What are you doing?’

Nina jammed her left foot on the accelerator and hoisted herself up to climb over Macy. She saw in the mirror that the nearer LSV was accelerating, closing the gap to get an unmissable shot. The other buggy stopped firing so as not to hit its comrade. ‘Just put your foot on the gas and grab the wheel,’ she said. Macy complied, awkwardly squeezing under her. ‘I’ve got an idea!’

In the Zubr’s weapons room, Eddie looked over the weapons officer’s shoulder to watch the chase playing out on the monitor screens.

A chase that was almost over. The Zubr’s fire control computers displayed the range, bearing and speed of all three vehicles beside the cursors tracking them, and the distance in metres of the lead LSV was rapidly catching up to that of Nina’s Land Rover.

Shaban, beside him, banged a fist on a console as the lead buggy fired again. ‘The driver!’ he shouted at the weapons officer. ‘Tell them to aim for the driver! We can’t risk hitting the jar!’

The seated man relayed the order. ‘Is the box bulletproof?’ Hamdi asked nervously.

‘Against a handgun bullet, it should be,’ Khaleel told him. ‘A machine gun . . . I don’t know.’

‘You’ll have to check it when we recover it, Hamdi,’ said Shaban. A dismissive glance at Berkeley. ‘Dr Berkeley’s hands are too shaky, I think.’