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Shaban ran to him. ‘Don’t shoot!’ Khaleel gave him a surprised look. ‘She’s got the case - if she falls, it might break the jar. Send your crew to catch her.’

Nina reached the top of the ladder, disappearing from view beneath the edge of the main deck. Khaleel cursed, then moved to issue orders over the public address system. Shaban turned to Eddie. ‘She actually thinks she can rescue you.’

‘She’s a smart lass,’ Eddie replied.

‘She ain’t that smart,’ snorted Diamondback. ‘Comin’ aboard this thing with no way to get off again? That don’t exactly make her look like a rocket scientist.’

‘It’s not like she’s up against MENSA,’ said Eddie, a comeback that earned him a kidney punch. But even though he was outwardly confident, his thoughts were worried: Nina was unarmed, and outnumbered. What the hell was she planning?

Nina stood on the side deck, getting her bearings. The narrow walkway ran almost the hovercraft’s full length; several hatches led inside, the closest right beside her. Another ladder went up to the Zubr’s huge main deck, but the open expanse of metal, almost half the size of a football pitch, would offer her almost no cover, and she wanted to avoid being seen for as long as possible—

A door at the stern swung open and two men emerged from the engine room. They ran towards her.

So much for not being seen!

She darted through the nearest hatch, slamming it shut to find herself in a narrow and very noisy hallway. There was a locking mechanism on the inside of the hatch, Cyrillic instructions stencilled on the painted metal - with a sticker bearing both Arabic text and the English words ‘NBC Seal’ below. She knew from Eddie that the acronym was not a TV network but an abbreviation of Nuclear, Biological, Chemical - the vessel’s interior could be sealed to protect the crew against weapons of mass destruction. She pulled a lever, a heavy bolt sliding into place, then tugged down a smaller, red-painted handle to lock it.

The thunder behind the aft bulkhead told her she was right beside one of the hovercraft’s lift fans. She quickly went to the other end of the passage. A door in the forward bulkhead opened into a room full of closely packed bunk beds - crew quarters. Considering the noise it didn’t seem like the best place to sleep, but that was far from her greatest concern as she saw another hatch leading to the side deck.

Banging from behind as the crewmen reached the door she had just entered and tried to open it. It would only take them a moment to realise it was locked, then they would move on to the next—

Nina ran across the bunk room and yanked the bolt, slamming down the locking lever just as someone rattled at it from outside.

The nearest unlocked hatch was back by the engine room. She had the time she needed.

Unfastening the webbing, she placed the case on a bed and opened it.

Khaleel listened to a report over the intercom. ‘She’s in one of the starboard cabins,’ he told Shaban. ‘She’s locked the outer hatches, but there aren’t many places she can go.’

Shaban nodded. ‘Hamdi, as soon as we have the case, I want you to check the jar for damage.’

Hamdi came into the room. ‘I’ll need some space.’

There was a small metal plotting table behind the two pilots’ stations. Shaban swept the maps off it. ‘There.’ He turned to Diamondback. ‘Go and get her. Don’t do anything that might damage the case - just bring her here.’ Diamondback didn’t appear pleased at the implicit order not to shoot her, but he nodded, handing Eddie over to a soldier and leaving the bridge.

The cult leader picked up the PA system’s handset. ‘Dr Wilde!’

Carrying the case on her back, Nina cautiously opened a hatch and peered into the hold. Right in front of her was another dune buggy, an unarmed civilian model, secured to rings in the deck between a couple of grimy caterpillar-tracked excavators.

She was about to move out when Shaban’s voice boomed from loudspeakers. ‘Dr Wilde! I know you can hear me. Give yourself up and hand over the jar. If you do not, I’ll kill your husband.’

There was a muffled noise, then Eddie spoke. ‘Ay up, love.’

Despite the tense situation, Nina couldn’t hold in a brief smile at the sound of his voice. The hope on which she had based her gamble had paid off; Shaban was indeed using him to force her hand.

How much longer he - and she - stayed alive depended entirely on Shaban’s anger. If he decided to settle his scores before checking his prize . . .

‘Forget about me,’ Eddie quickly went on. ‘Just smash that fucking pot and—’ There was a dull thud, followed by a gruff grunt of pain.

‘Bring me the jar, Dr Wilde,’ said Shaban. ‘Now.’ The PA clicked off.

Nina steeled herself, then entered the hold, stepping out from behind the vehicles and raising her hands as members of the hovercraft’s crew burst through a hatch. They ran over and grabbed her roughly.

Cowboy boots clanged down the ladder at the cavernous compartment’s centre. Diamondback.

‘Well, shit,’ he said as he swaggered towards her, ‘I was kinda hoping you’d put up a struggle. I always like puttin’ bitches in their place.’ He leered, then gestured with his gun at the ladder. ‘Now move it.’

Flanked by the soldiers, Nina went to the ladder. Diamondback ascended, then waved for her to follow. She scaled the rungs to the next deck. A steep flight of metal stairs rose to another level. At the top, a short windowless passage led to the bridge.

Shaban was waiting there - as was Eddie, a soldier holding him against the rear wall near the open port wing bridge hatch. ‘Nina! You - oh, for fuck’s sake,’ he said, joy at seeing her turning to dismay as he realised she had brought the case containing the canopic jar. ‘I told you to smash that thing!’

‘I’m trying to save your life, Eddie,’ she said. ‘Just like when you rescued me from Jack Mitchell’s ship.’ He looked confused. ‘When you came into the hold?’ she went on, trying to make her meaning subtle in case her captors picked up on it.

It was too subtle. His expression was still one of befuddlement. Shaban’s look was of greed, however. ‘Put down the case, Dr Wilde,’ he said, indicating the plotting table. ‘Very carefully. Dr Hamdi!’

Hamdi bustled in, chest swelling with self-importance. He squeezed round the table to stand between the pilots, facing the others as Nina eased the case off her shoulders. ‘It doesn’t look damaged,’ he announced as she put it down.

‘Move her back,’ said Shaban. Diamondback pushed her across to the starboard bulkhead. She saw Berkeley in the weapons room and glared at him; he looked away, ashamed. ‘Now, open the case.’

With great care, Hamdi unfastened one latch, then the other. His audience leaned closer. Nina looked across the bridge at Eddie, hoping to make eye contact and give him a silent hint, but a soldier was in the way.

Hamdi took hold of the lid with a theatrical flourish, then lifted it.

There was a metallic clack. A ragged-edged hunk of memory foam sprang from the case, a curved piece of metal popping out from beneath it to spin to a stop on the table.

Eyes went wide as they recognised the object: the spoon of a hand grenade. The piece of foam had held it in place while Nina carefully removed the pin before fully closing the case - with the pressure gone, the spring had been released.

Activating the five-second fuse.

Four seconds.

The bridge suddenly became a mad whirl of movement. Shaban, closest to the case, spun to find an exit. Diamondback flung him into the weapons room, diving on top of him. Khaleel ducked under the sturdy metal table, clapping his hands over his ears. One soldier ran for the stairwell, the man holding Eddie abandoning his charge and diving to the floor.