Three.
Nina and Eddie shared a millisecond look across the room - then both leapt in opposite directions, through the hatchways on to the wing bridges.
Two.
Hamdi’s shocked brain finally registered the true nature of the dull green ovoid where he had expected to see the canopic jar. He whimpered, turning to flee, but found his escape routes blocked by the panicked pilots as they tried to get out of their chairs.
One—
Eddie hit the wing bridge’s railing, seeing the broad circular vent and spinning blades of a lift fan almost directly below. Not a good direction to jump. Instead, he rolled over the aft-facing section of barrier. Arms still fastened behind his back by the plastic tie, he had no way to cushion his fall as he slammed painfully down.
On the other side of the bridge, Nina vaulted the railing—
The grenade exploded.
28
The reinforced case channelled the blast upwards and outwards at waist height. The two pilots were killed instantly, torn apart by razor-shards of metal. Hamdi was catapulted backwards, smashing through a window to slam brokenly on the main deck below.
The soldier trying to reach the stairwell only got as far as the door, hit in the back by a swathe of jagged shrapnel. The others in the room escaped the direct force of the blast, but were still left near-deafened and disoriented by the detonation.
The port wing bridge hatch was blown off its hinges. It cartwheeled downwards - and was sucked into the gaping maw of the lift fan.
The jet engine-like vanes shattered as the hatch was chewed up, jagged blades flying in every direction. Eddie rolled to flatten his face against the deck as shards clashed against the superstructure above him. The mangled hatch whirled through the vortex inside the vertical shaft - and then there was a horrific deck-shaking bang as it jammed the fan’s driveshaft, the torsional force of machinery going from forty thousand revolutions per minute to zero in a millisecond ripping the entire thing apart.
The damage didn’t stop at the fan.
The smashed driveshaft was directly connected to one of the gas turbine power plants in the port-side engine room. The effects rippled back along the hovercraft, tearing more equipment apart and filling the engineering spaces with lethal fragments. The turbine blew up, a fireball blasting hatches open.
A quarter of its lift gone, the Zubr wallowed, nose dipping to port. It began to slide off course.
And with the pilots dead and the controls wrecked, there was nobody to stop it.
Body aching from the fall, Eddie struggled to sit up. He was no longer a prisoner, but his hands were still tied behind his back. He had to get free . . .
There was a pointed hunk of metal nearby, a torn piece of insulation burning at one end. He fumbled for it with his left hand.
He felt his skin burning as he gripped it. The metal was still hot. But he grimaced and fought the pain, pressing the flaming end against the plastic tie.
In the weapons room, Diamondback pushed himself off his boss. Berkeley clutched his ears in a corner. The weapons officer was slumped over his console, a shard of flying debris embedded in a neck wound.
Diamondback retrieved his revolver, then helped Shaban up. ‘Are you okay?’
‘I think so,’ Shaban said dizzily - then his face twisted with fury. ‘That bitch tried to kill me! Go after her, kill her!’
‘What about the jar? She musta—’
‘Kill her!’ Shaban screamed. Diamondback flinched, then hurried back into the bridge.
The room was filled with smoke, the consoles on fire. Coughing, Khaleel crawled out from under the table. It was buckled, but had been sturdy enough to protect him from the blast. The soldier by the port hatch was barely conscious, bleeding from several shrapnel wounds. Khaleel moved to check his injuries, but Diamondback jabbed a finger at the opening. ‘Go after Chase - I’ll get the woman.’
‘But he needs—’
Shaban appeared in the doorway. ‘Tarik, I will double your money. Just kill them!’
Khaleel hesitated, then went to the hatch as Diamondback ran to the starboard wing bridge and looked out.
Nina was on the deck below by the lift fan. Just as he snapped up his gun, she saw him and ran. A bullet twanged off the foot-high lip of the circular air intake behind her.
The deck was a blank expanse of metal, the only cover the Gatling gun’s turret towards the bow - and she would never reach it before being shot in the back.
Only one way to go . . .
She dived for the railing at the deck’s edge as Diamondback fired again. The shot cracked off the floor, spitting paint chips at her face as she rolled under the railing and slammed down on the narrow walkway below. Another bullet zipped past; she pushed herself painfully back into cover.
Diamondback lost sight of her. ‘Shit!’ he hissed, running for the stairs.
On the port wing bridge, Khaleel looked down at the gaping vent of the smashed lift fan. He saw Eddie, grabbed for his holstered gun—
Skin blistering, Eddie pressed the metal harder against the tie. He felt it give, the plastic stretching, then snapping. He jumped up - and caught movement in his peripheral vision, someone aiming a weapon on the jutting balcony above.
Instinct and training kicked in. He flung the lump of metal upwards, running for the stern as a startled cry confirmed that he’d scored a hit. If he could round the superstructure before Khaleel recovered, he would be temporarily safe—
Shots!
Bullets spanged from the deck, cutting off his escape route. He dived beside the aft lift fan, scrambling round the intake in a desperate attempt to find cover. But it was too low to shield him. Khaleel lined up his sights on the half-exposed figure, and squeezed the trigger.
The bullet flew at Eddie - then suddenly veered downwards, sucked into the huge fan. Eddie raised his head, feeling the powerful suction of air being pulled into the shaft. As long as the vortex was between the two men, Khaleel had no chance of hitting him.
The general realised it at the same moment. He jumped down to the main deck. Eddie scrambled round to make a run for the superstructure, but Khaleel already had his gun back up, covering the gap as he advanced.
He was trapped.
Groaning at the pain from her hard landing, Nina struggled upright and saw she was close to the hatch through which she had first entered the hovercraft. Someone had unlocked it, the heavy door swinging lazily.
She checked that the passage was empty, then entered. The crew quarters were also unoccupied; she went to the bed where she had hidden the canopic jar after booby-trapping the case. With Eddie free, she now had all the cards - once they were both safely off the Zubr, she could destroy the jar’s contents and end any hope Shaban still cherished of carrying out his insane plan.
All she had to do was find Eddie.
Still charging across the desert towards the canyon, Macy looked back at the pursuing hovercraft - and was startled to find it was no longer behind her. It had angled away to one side. Something had gone badly wrong - the massive craft was trailing smoke, on fire near its stern.
Nina and Eddie, she knew. Their kind of chaos.
But there was no sign that they had got off the speeding giant. And, she realised, if the hovercraft stayed on its new course it would miss the canyon and continue across the plain.
To the high cliffs at its far end.
‘Oh, crap,’ she gasped.
Berkeley staggered on to the bridge, looking in horror at the pilots’ shrapnel-torn bodies. ‘Jesus! What happened?’