“Now all of you step back into the corner.” He waved his gun. His partner sidestepped toward the entrance, circling around the sarcophagus.
Tommy watched the second man’s movement and instantly recognized an opportunity. As the silent partner neared the other gunman, Tommy slid his hand on top of the sarcophagus lid as if to brace himself. When the other three researchers were safely behind him, he pressed down hard on the lid’s corner and stepped back.
The heavy object immediately slipped off its housing and crashed to the floor, crushing the second gunman’s foot in the process. He howled in agony. His trigger finger instinctively pulled and fired off a shot that ricocheted around the room.
Ironically, it struck the shooter in the side of the head, and within seconds he slumped to the floor. Tommy clambered over the lid and twisted the weapon out of the dead man’s hand. He spun around to aim at the other guy, but all he saw was the man’s feet as he sprinted up the stairs.
Tommy shook his head like a dog. “I usually have a guy for this.”
He jumped over the dead man’s left leg and took off.
People gasped, and one person shrieked.
Tommy imagined the gunman wielding his weapon to clear a path. He burst from the cave and charged after the thief. Another woman in the crowd of onlookers screamed at the sight of Tommy running with a gun.
“It’s okay,” he said, putting up a dismissive hand as he ran by. “I’m one of the good guys.”
His disclaimer did little to ease any minds. People still ducked and scattered.
Tommy didn’t have time to worry about that.
He had a thief to catch.
Running up another section of steps sent his heart rate to its max capacity as he reached the third and final tier.
Tommy gasped for breath, forcing himself to keep going. His legs felt like bags of sand, growing heavier and heavier with every step. The thief appeared to be unaffected by the stair sprint. He’d lengthened the gap to nearly twenty yards, and it wasn’t getting any better for Tommy.
The only way down from the dig site was a narrow one-lane road that wound around the mountain, circling it until arriving at the bottom, and a slightly wider road leading out of the rural village.
The thief was making his way toward one of the few cars parked nearby. If he got in, stopping him would be nearly impossible.
Tommy took a few more steps as the thief skidded to a stop at the driver’s side of a red sedan. He reached for the door handle but was halted by a loud pop. The bullet smashed into the front quarter panel. Another gunshot sent a round through the windshield.
The thief took cover behind the next vehicle in line and waited. Tommy was crouched on one knee, aiming carefully with his weapon. Now that the other guy was behind another car, he didn’t have a clear shot. And Tommy was out in the open, completely exposed.
Without warning, the thief rose quickly and fired four successive shots. Tommy did the only thing he could. He dove and rolled as the dirt erupted around him. As he tumbled sideways, he managed to extend his weapon and squeeze the trigger five times.
The shots were wildly inaccurate, most sailing off into the ether, or wherever errant bullets go. Two, however, made themselves useful.
One found its way into the front left tire of the red sedan, rendering the getaway car useless. The second round snuck under the vehicle the thief was using for cover and struck the man in the shin.
He instantly dropped to the ground, howling in agony. The fingers on his free hand wrapped around the bloody wound. He didn’t release his weapon, though.
Tommy seized the moment. He dragged himself up and ran as hard as he could toward the car on the far end of the row. Gunfire erupted again from the thief’s weapon, but Tommy dove for cover before any of the bullets even came close.
Safe for the moment, Tommy tucked in behind the front tire of an SUV and waited a second.
“Okay. Stay on the offensive,” he whispered.
He took a deep breath and peeked around the vehicle’s front end. Instead of seeing the man writhing on the ground from the bullet wound, Tommy was shocked to see the guy hobbling desperately toward the curve in the road.
“Seriously?”
If the situation hadn’t been so dangerous, he would have thought it a hilarious sight.
Tommy crept out from behind his hiding place with his pistol held waist high. He still panted for air, but the run had been a short one and in the time he’d been hiding, his legs had mostly recovered.
“I have got to start working out more,” he said and took off after the thief once again.
In spite of the wound to his leg, the thief had picked up speed and was already nearing the bend in the road. He looked back over his shoulder and saw Tommy bearing down on him. He raised his weapon and fired a salvo at the big American.
Tommy’s reaction was almost catlike. He’d seen the guy’s intent when he turned around. The only place Tommy could take cover was a large boulder on the side of the drive. Bullets splashed into the gravel and pinged off the boulder until no more shots rang out. Tommy wasn’t as good at counting enemy rounds as his friend Sean, but he was pretty sure the thief’s gun was empty.
He popped around the corner, fired a reply of his own, and caught the thief in the middle of checking his pockets for a fresh magazine. Startled, the man took off again, running down the road.
Tommy dashed after him, like the worlds slowest 100-meter sprinter coming out of the blocks. His lack of speed didn’t matter now. His prey was injured, and that tilted the odds in Tommy’s favor.
The thief panicked as Tommy closed the gap to less than ten yards. Then he did something unexpected. He spun to the right and veered toward the cliff’s edge as if he planned to jump.
Tommy’s eyes widened as he saw the man draw closer to the ledge. There was no time to lose. If the guy jumped, the medallion could be lost forever to the depths of the lake below.
With only two yards between Tommy and the thief, and only one yard between the thief and the precipice, Tommy pushed all his weight onto his left foot and leaped forward with arms outstretched. The thief looked back in time to see the big American flying at him. He tried to jump away, but it was too late. Tommy’s right arm struck the man’s heel. The heavy force tripped him and sent him tumbling toward the precipice.
Tommy kept his head up as he hit the gravel. The thief rolled toward the ledge only a few feet away. Without a second to lose, Tommy reached out and grabbed a handful of the thief’s jacket just as the man’s momentum carried him over the steep drop-off.
For a second, the thief’s dead weight pulled Tommy downward. Tommy kicked his toes hard into the gravel as he was dragged toward the edge. Luckily, his foot caught on a rock embedded in the ground. With his upper chest hanging over the precipice, he was faced with a six-hundred-foot drop down an 80-degree slope. Even though it wasn’t straight down, the odds of surviving such a fall were slim to none.
The thief’s good foot was planted on a narrow ledge about six feet down. Apparently, he was having second thoughts about jumping.
“Grab my arms,” Tommy said. “I’ll pull you up.”
The man’s narrow eyes were full of angry determination. He said nothing in response.
Tommy’s fingers and forearms strained to keep the man’s weight up even though the guy had a fragile foothold.
“I can’t hold you like this forever. Let me pull you up. Then we’ll talk.”
“There is nothing to talk about, American dog. Soon, the world will bow to us and the Dear Leader.”
“Dear leader? Listen, you can tell me all about it. Just take my hand, and let me pull you up.”
Tommy twisted one hand, trying to get a better grip on the inside of the man’s jacket. He grunted and felt his foot sliding off the rock that was the only thing keeping him from going over the edge as well.