Starkman was right behind him as they entered the last passage. “Now just run like fuck!” Chase yelled.
He couldn’t even spare a moment to check his watch, but he knew they were almost down to their last thirty seconds.
Into the main chamber of the temple, gold and orichalcum glittering all around them. But none of it mattered except the huge statue of Poseidon at the far end, and the flight of stairs behind it.
He hoped that removing the hidden switch in the last challenge was the only change the architects had made.
“Up here!” he gasped, taking the steps three at a time. The muscles in his legs burned, sweat stinging the deep cut in his calf, but he couldn’t stop now. “Back of the room, there should be a shaft!”
“Should be?” panted Starkman.
“If it’s not, sue me!” They reached the top of the stairs, the riches of the altar room shining around them, but the only thing of value to Chase was the shaft-
The bomb exploded.
The fuel-air explosion swept through the cavern with earth-shattering force. Temples fell, palaces were smashed as the shockwave expanded. And behind it came a swelling fireball, a fury that seared and melted everything it touched.
Even the ancient walls of the Temple of Poseidon were unable to withstand the full force of modern weaponry. Blocks weighing tons were pulverized in the blink of an eye.
The cavern itself succumbed to the devastation just as quickly. A million tons of stone plunged downwards as the ceiling collapsed, obliterating the citadel.
Chase could hear the shockwave approaching like an express train, a wind rushing through the altar room ahead of the blast itself.
The “priest hole” was just feet away-
He dived into it. There was no time to worry if it was blocked. Because if it was, he would be dead either way in a few seconds.
Unlike the vertical shaft in Atlantis, this one was slanted, a steep slope of at least sixty degrees. Starkman was right behind him as he slid down it.
The wind rose to a gale…
The helicopter pilots had received a garbled radio message to prepare their aircraft for a rapid takeoff. Now, Nina and Kari watched in horror as Frost-and only about half his men-charged out of the cave and raced through the snow towards the choppers.
“Oh my God!” Kari cried as Frost and Schenk jumped into the cabin. Outside, two of his men practically threw Philby into the second helicopter. “What happened?”
“Go! Go!” Frost yelled at the pilot. “Qobras got loose, started the timer again! Couldn’t stop it!”
“Where’s Eddie?” Nina shouted.
“He’s dead! They shot him!”
Her breath stuck in her throat. “What? No!” Kari looked shocked.
“Faster! The bomb’s going to-”
A colossal jet of smoke and dust and rubble erupted from the cave entrance with an unbelievably deep thump like the pounding of a mile-wide drum. Nina felt the detonation in her chest cavity.
The pilot threw the ascending helicopter sharply sideways to get out of the path of the avalanche charging towards it. An avalanche not of snow, but of stones, loose rocks knocked free by the explosive pulse, sweeping others away as they cascaded down the cliff.
The second helicopter followed suit. Flying stones pounded its hull like hail as the avalanche smashed down, causing a huge chunk of rock to shear away from the side of the mountain, the ledge disintegrating in an enormous cloud of dust.
The Path of the Moon was gone forever, the road to the last outpost of Atlantis swept away.
Nina pressed her hands against the helicopter’s window as she watched the destruction below. Other rock slides tumbled down the mountain, the Golden Peak of Tibetan legend shaken to its core.
And everything within… lost.
“Eddie…” she whispered. Losing him once had been bad enough. Twice was almost too much to bear. Her eyes filled with tears.
Chase screamed as the blast wave ripped past, dust and grit and fragmented stone scouring his exposed skin. The noise was unimaginable, a roaring thunder shaking every bone, every organ in his body as he was swept helplessly down the shaft.
Light in the tunnel, a rising brightness…
Not daylight ahead, but fire behind, the burning fuel-air mix superheating as the collapsing cave compressed it and drove it after them.
And all he could do was skid down the slope towards the darkness ahead, while the glow from behind went from red to orange to yellow as the fire rushed after him-
A rectangle of daylight suddenly burst open before him, the snow covering the exit blown away. Chase had no time to reflect on his luck. Instead he acted entirely on reflex as he shot out of the end of the shaft onto a snow-covered pile of scree, throwing himself sideways to avoid the tongue of flame.
Snow flashed to steam as a fireball erupted from the shaft behind him. He hit the ground hard, the layer of snow doing little to cushion the impact as he slammed against the rock beneath.
But there wasn’t even time to feel the pain, because a hissing rattle from above warned him that a wave of loose stones was careening down the mountainside-
He rolled and flattened himself against the rock face, praying that the vestigial overhang was large enough to deflect the falling stones over him rather than crushing him flat.
Rocks ranging in size from a clenched fist to a man’s torso blew apart like grenades above him. Chase shielded his head as the rest of him was pounded by flying fragments. He yelled, barely hearing his own voice over the noise of colliding stones.
Eventually the tumult died down. Painfully Chase forced himself onto his knees, chunks of debris clattering off him, and took in his surroundings.
The slight lip on the rock face had saved him-less than a foot away was a boulder, split cleanly in two by the impact, which would have crushed his skull like a watermelon had it landed on him. Beyond that was a random mass of broken dark stone. Through the dust, the snowy peaks of the Himalayas stretched into the distance.
Looking down, he saw he was on a ledge overlooking a wide valley. The slope seemed shallow enough to descend without climbing gear.
Which was lucky, because the sum total of his equipment now amounted to whatever he had in his pockets. He’d even lost his flashlight.
An odd, out-of-place smell reached him: steam. Misty swirls where the fire had evaporated the snow coiled past, carried on the breeze. He looked around, and saw Starkman partly buried under lumps of stone. He ran to him. “Jason! Come on, stay with me,” he said as he threw the larger pieces aside. “Can you hear me?”
“Eddie?” Starkman’s voice was dazed. “Is that you?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Are you hurt? Can you move?”
“I dunno, let me… ow, shit!”
“What?” Chase asked. “What is it?” If Starkman were seriously injured, there was practically nothing he could do to get him off the mountain.
“I landed on my keys…”
Chase stared at him, then started to laugh. “Oh, you bastard, you funny fucker,” he finally spluttered. Starkman joined in, wheezing. “Come on, get your lazy American arse off the ground.”
Starkman pushed himself upright. His eyepatch had been torn off, exposing a sunken eye socket behind the discolored, closed lid. “Son of a bitch,” he groaned. “That hurts…”
Chase looked up at the mountain. Smoke and dust drifted from its flanks. “Well, your boss got what he wanted,” he sighed. “The place’s been blown to buggery-nobody’ll ever get anything out of there again.”
“Yeah, but your boss got what he wanted too,” Starkman reminded him.