Hawke agreed. “And we need to get out of here in a hurry, just like Cairo says. To say it would be like shooting fish in a barrel is an understatement. They throw one fragmentation grenade in here and we’re shark chum.”
“Mmm, what a lovely image,” Lea said.
“Welcome to Hawke,” Scarlet said. “Saying it like it is since 1970.”
“Hey,” Hawke said. “That is nowhere near my age and you know it.”
Scarlet raised an eyebrow and regarded him with a cool smile. “Come now, darling. It’s somewhere near it.”
The banter was cut dead by the sound of Camacho firing his SIG Sauer in the mausoleum. They watched the muzzle flash lighting the darkness in a terrifying strobe effect and prayed he was safe. When he tumbled down the shaft and rolled into the burial chamber, they had their answer.
“Jack!” Scarlet said. “Are you okay?”
He scrambled to his feet and brushed the dust from his shoulders. “Sure, but it’s too late to use the mausoleum as a way out. Kashala’s men have taken it over and they just saw me dive into the altar.”
“Oh, happy day,” Scarlet said. “What about Kolya?”
“Crazy son of a bitch ran off to save Jazmin! She’s in one of their trucks.”
Lea turned anxious eyes on Hawke. “What was that you said about fragmentation grenades?”
“And shark chum,” Ryan said.
“Mate, you know that thing you do when you find a hidden escape route from burial chambers?”
Ryan’s shoulders slumped. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me?”
“Not in any way,” he said, glancing around the mausoleum. “That water around the sarcophagus has to be coming from somewhere. Start behind the wall where it’s entering the tomb.”
“On it.”
The sound of gun fire and men screaming as Kashala’s men made their way across the mausoleum and surrounded the altar. “Hey, ECHO!”
The word echoed in the chamber and the men laughed.
“Hey, ECHO!”
It echoed again and more laughter.
“You down there, ECHO?” Kashala’s voice. “Because I think you’re down there.”
Sensing the end of their enemy and the discovery of the map, his mercs whooped with joy and high-fived one another.
“Ryan, the secret escape route please,” Lea said. “And now.”
“ECHO! King Kashala is here to smoke you out. He wants his treasure and he wants it now! You have one minute to surrender it to me, or I will kill you all.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“You heard the man,” Ryan said. “He wants his treasure. If we hand it over, I’m sure he’ll let us live. He seems like a very nice man, after all.”
“Yeah,” Kamala said. “He’s a real gent.’
Lea gave Ryan a mischievous grin. “You know, that’s not such a crazy idea.”
“Eh?” Ryan, along with everyone else stared at her.
Camacho checked the shocked reactions in the room and was first to speak. “Have you lost your mind?”
Lexi stepped forward and confronted her. “We can’t just hand the map over!”
“We’re not going to hand the map over,” Lea continued. “We hand him something else to buy us time while we search for a way out of here.”
Hawke thought about what she was proposing. “Lea’s right. If we can take something else out to him and keep him busy, that gives us time to get busy and make an escape through that wall.”
“Excellent idea,” Scarlet said. “What are you going to take up to him, Bale?”
Ryan’s eyes widened. “Me? Why?”
“You’re the only one who can convince him it’s authentic.”
“I’ll do it.” Hawke reached into the sarcophagus and pulled out a bunch of the papyrus leaves. “This ought to float his boat for a few minutes. How long is it going to take to get through that wall?”
Reaper ran his hand over the sandstone and sighed. “Ten more minutes. It’s very thin in certain places because of the design of the waterpipes.”
Lea turned to Hawke and raised an eyebrow. “Think you can hold out for five minutes?”
“Well…” Scarlet began.
“Don’t go there, Cairo,” Lea said.
Hawke gave the SAS woman a look and shook his head. “Wish me luck.”
He made his way back down the tunnel until he reached the small patch of light shining on the dusty floor from the hole above where the altar had stood. Looking up, he was greeted by the grinning faces of the Blood Crew.
He climbed up the rope and reached the floor of the upper tomb. “You don’t happen to know if there’s anywhere good to eat around here, do you?”
Their reply was to grab him around the head, haul him out of the hole and kick him in the stomach. He doubled over, grimacing in pain. Pretending to be in much more agony than he truly was, he took a few seconds to count their guns and mark their positions in the tomb. He also noted a pile of tactical waterproof rifle bags which explained the dry condition of their weapons. “I’ll take that as a no, then.”
Mukendi and Crombez heaved him up off the floor and brought him to his feet. “And stay there, you piece of shit!” The Belgian said.
“So, this is the mighty Joe Hawke.” Kashala curled his lip into a sneer as he padded across the upper section of the tomb.
“Yes, but that’s not what’s on my business card.”
“You think you are a funny man, Hawke? You think you can make jokes when you have a ten inch blade sliding into your stomach?”
“Never really thought about that exact scenario, to be honest, but on reflection I’d say no.”
Mukendi howled with insane laughter. “Let me stick him, King.” The giggling merc drew his combat knife and sauntered across the tomb toward Hawke.
Nikolai Petrov crouched low behind the stone wall running around the parking lot and pulled his hood over his head to shield his eyes from the low glare of the moon. It hadn’t taken the Blood Crew long to find them in the cave and make a deadly assault. In seconds, the two men had decided to split up. Camacho had dived into the rock pool to warn the rest of team and he had scrambled down the slope and taken cover at the base of the mountain.
After a brief search, Hendrik Block had padded back over to the vehicles and was now leaning up against the hood with a cigarette in his mouth. It was far too late and dark for tourists now, but he was still on the lookout. Behind him, bound and gagged and stuffed in the back seat of one of the trucks, Nikolai saw Jazmin Benedek, scared out of her wits.
This was his chance and he had to act. The rest of the team was deep underground, and by now heavily engaged in a firefight with Kashala and his men. Only he could save Jazmin and sabotage the Blood Crew’s transport.
Crouching down on all fours to keep his body below the top of the dry-stone wall, he crawled along the parking lot. He grunted in pain as his hands were scuffed by the gravel chips and he felt a piercing pain as the rocks pushed into his knees. No stranger to agony thanks to the gruelling punishments he had endured in the Athanatoi to prove his loyalty to the Oracle, he pushed on to the end.
He was behind the trucks now, and when he peered over the wall, he saw Block’s boots under the vehicle at the front. The Belgian merc was still smoking and keeping an eye out for any vehicles approaching up the mountain road. His facial scars reflected the cool, silver light of the moon rising over the mountain.
Nikolai left his position and crept toward the trucks, crouch-walking to stay out of the merc’s sight. Reaching the vehicle where Block was smoking, he moved around to the opposite side from the merc and then flew into action.