The first wave of ten Israeli commandos rushed through the opening they had just blown and were immediately cut down by automatic-weapons fire. The second wave preceded their charge with a barrage of flash-bang grenades. They made it a little farther, killing some of their ambushers, before being pinned down. The tunnel descended slightly and curved, making every foot gained open to new fire from ahead, as Aspasia’s Shadow’s soldiers and terrorists leapfrogged backward defensively, making the Israelis pay for every yard gained.
Turcotte was like a frustrated attack dog on a leash, Yakov holding him back while those first two groups assaulted. As the third wave prepared to move past the remainder of the second, Turcotte had had enough. He shoved his way past Yakov, catching the Russian by surprise, and dashed after the last man in the third squad.
Sherev was right next to him. “Let my men do their job.”
“I can help them,” Turcotte said. “Have them follow behind me about five meters.”
He strode forward past the point man and was immediately hit with a burst of AK-74 fire, the rounds chipping the armor on his chest. He fired the MK-98, the dart taking out the gunner.
Turcotte began to move quickly down the tunnel, firing his weapon as each new target came into view. The Israelis were close behind as he cleared the way into the complex. He was hit over a dozen times with small-arms fire, but the armor stood up to the damage.
Turcotte dashed around the bend and there was no more incoming fire. He paused as the corridor branched. One tunnel straight and down, the other curved and up.
“I’m going down,” Turcotte informed Sherev of his choice. “Split your men. Half with me, half with Yakov, going up.”
“I will go with you,” Yakov argued.
Turcotte shook his head, hitting the insides of the helmet. “Go with the other force,” he ordered. He didn’t quite trust Sherev to look out for Duncan’s welfare if the Israelis came across her. It was likely they would kill everyone in their path and ask questions later. Turcotte wasn’t even sure he completely trusted the Russian, but he couldn’t go in both directions and he felt it most likely Duncan — and Aspasia’s Shadow — would be deeper in the complex.
He moved into the tunnel, a dozen commandos following.
Yakov and Sherev led their force up the curving tunnel, bodies hunched forward, expecting bullets to come lashing toward them at any moment. Yakov swung the muzzle of the MP-5 back and forth, finger resting lightly on the trigger. The tunnel opened into a large chamber, empty except for several control consoles of Airlia design. There was an opening on the far side.
“There—” Yakov pointed with the gun and they made their away across the chamber.
A door barred the way. Turcotte stepped back while an Israeli demo man placed charges on it. He staggered as the blast resounded down the tunnel, then ran forward through the opening. A large chamber full of bunk beds. And a dead end.
Turcotte cursed and spun about, pushing his way through the commandos crowding in behind him.
As soon as he stepped through the opening, Yakov knew he’d made a mistake. He was in a room about ten feet by ten square, with no other exit. The floor beneath his feet trembled. Sherev joined him and as the next Israeli tried to enter, the entire room began to rise. The commando dove in, barely escaping having his legs sliced off as the elevator rocketed upward. They passed several openings, other levels, but the elevator didn’t stop and there were no controls visible on the smooth walls. Yakov braced himself, the submachine gun aimed toward the open side. “I think we are going to the top of the mountain.”
Turcotte entered the control room to find the remaining commandos waiting by the open elevator shaft. They quickly updated him on what had happened. On the far side of the shaft two cables raced in opposite directions. One up, one down.
Turcotte didn’t hesitate. He jumped across the shaft and grasped the cable going up. The metal screeched through the palms of the suit until they locked down. He was taken along for the ride.
Yakov felt his weight lighten as the elevator slowed and then came to a halt. A large, circular cavern beckoned. Sitting in the center was a bouncer, and next to it stood a tall figure in a multicolored cloak and metal crown, a pair of soldiers carrying something draped with a thick white cloth on two poles. Lisa Duncan was held between another two men.
Yakov dashed off the elevator, the butt of the MP-5 tight in his shoulder, Sherev and the Israeli commando right behind.
“Stay where you are!” Yakov yelled.
Aspasia’s Shadow turned. He threw back his hood, revealing smooth skin, an angular face. He smiled. “Ah, the large Russian. I have heard of you. Your people are most formidable. I told Hitler not to invade, but he did not listen. Of course, he did kill many of your countrymen and destroyed his own in the process, so it worked out well in the long run.”
“Put the Ark down.” Yakov gestured with the gun.
“I don’t think so,” Aspasia’s Shadow said. He gestured and the two men began climbing up the side of the bouncer.
“Stop!” Sherev yelled.
Aspasia’s Shadow stepped up and grabbed Duncan, who seemed to be in a daze. He locked her neck in the crook of his left arm, her body between them. A blade appeared in his left, which he laid across her throat. “I’ve killed many with this. One more won’t make a difference to me, but will it to you?”
“No, it won’t,” Yakov said. He took aim.
The automated elevator reached the top, then reversed direction, heading down.
Turcotte, clinging to the return cable going up, could see the flat white bottom of the elevator coming toward him, filling the entire shaft. There wasn’t enough room in the cable channel for him to fit. As another opening approached, he pushed off against the wall, diving into it as the elevator flashed past.
He rolled to his feet and dove once more into the shaft, grabbing the left-side cable going up, locking the TASC-suit glove around it.
“Don’t be hasty,” Aspasia’s Shadow said. He nodded to the two men holding the poles for the Ark. “I’ve rigged that to blow, and that’s what you really want, isn’t it? And this.” He tapped the garments.
“I’d rather have the Ark destroyed, than in your hands,” Yakov said.
“But your friend might not.” Aspasia’s Shadow indicated Sherev. “He’s come here to get his stones back. And getting the Ark, would that not be a major coup for your country, Mister Sherev?”
“We will not let you leave.” Sherev edged to the side, the commando with him.
The three-way standoff was upset when Turcotte tumbled into the room, the TASC-suit taking the impact. He got to his feet and pulled the MK-98 off the sling on his back.
“Gentlemen, I hold all the cards.” Aspasia’s Shadow edged toward the Ark and the side of the bouncer, keeping Duncan between him and the others.
“Let her go.” Turcotte’s voice echoed out of the speakers on the suit’s helmet.
“The Ark.” Sherev motioned with the muzzle of his weapon. “Leave it.” A growl escaped Yakov’s lips.
Turcotte shifted slightly, seeing the Israeli and what he was doing. “No!” Turcotte exclaimed.
“We can’t let him take the Grail.” Sherev’s jaw was set.
They were both startled as Yakov fired, the round ripping through Duncan’s chest and out her back, hitting Aspasia’s Shadow, ricocheting off the thummin. Aspasia’s Shadow dropped Duncan’s body and grabbed the white veil covering the Ark, ripping it off. Immediately the two cherubim heads fired bolts, killing his own men carrying it. The Ark slammed into the floor, the cherubim still firing, a bolt killing the commando and hitting Sherev in the shoulder, spinning him about.