‘Those bushes,’ Eddie said, pointing to a patch of snow-laden shrubs nearby. They hustled Kit over and crouched behind them, watching anxiously as the helicopter drew steadily closer. Had its occupants tracked the vimana as it made its descent - and was Zec now preparing to shoot the survivors? It kept coming, passing almost directly overhead . . .
And continued southwards.
‘They must be going back to Delhi,’ said Nina, watching it shrink into the distance.
‘Great,’ Eddie said. ‘They’ll be there in an hour, and we’ll be lucky to reach Gaurikund by nightfall. Maybe we should have thumbed a lift with them.’
Kit shook his head. ‘Even I would prefer to walk.’
Eddie and Nina both smiled, then with Kit between them began the long trek back down the valley.
Eddie’s estimate was accurate: it was dusk by the time they finally reached Gaurikund. First aid was quickly arranged for Kit, but his priority was phoning Interpol headquarters in Delhi. Unfortunately, the news he got after reporting events was bad - the Khoils had already left India aboard their private jet.
A helicopter was quickly arranged to fly the exhausted trio to the capital. After being debriefed at Interpol, Kit was taken away to have his wounds treated. Eddie and Nina also gave statements before their injuries, less serious, were checked by a doctor, but after that were left alone in a conference room, with nothing to do but wait as the bureaucratic machine ground into motion.
‘You okay?’ Nina asked, resting her head on her husband’s shoulder. A muted television mounted high in one corner was showing CNN, images of President Cole’s visit to Japan in the lead-up to the G20 summit flashing past.
Eddie fingered the bandage covering the cut he had received from the statue of Kali. ‘Still got all my important bits, so okay. You?’
‘Fine. More or less. I was thinking about Girilal. He didn’t deserve to die like that.’
‘He didn’t deserve to die, full stop. He saved our lives, though. Twice. That’s got to be good for his karma.’
‘I just hope his beliefs helped him at the end,’ said Nina morosely. ‘But at least he got to see his son again, and they settled some of their differences.’
Eddie gave her a sharp look. ‘Meaning what?’
‘Meaning . . . what it sounds like.’ It took her a moment to realise what he was saying. ‘You know, if you don’t want to speak to your father that’s up to you, but it doesn’t mean everyone’s pushing you to do it.’
‘Yeah, yeah, okay. Sorry.’ He changed the subject. ‘Don’t know about the karma of Shankarpa and the others, though. They might have ended up on our side, but they still tried to kill us. And Christ knows how many other people they knocked off before then.’
‘The Indian government’ll have to decide what to do with them, I guess. But at least the Vault survived fairly intact. That makes a change for us.’
‘The Khoils still bagged those stone tablets, though,’ he reminded her. ‘So whatever it is they want to do, they’re free to do it.’
‘Bring about the collapse of civilisation, Pramesh told me. So that he can oversee the rebuilding on his terms - and push his particular apocalyptic brand of Shiva-worship on everyone.’
Eddie made an amused sound. ‘He seemed pretty upset when Girilal basically said he was being a huge arsehole.’
‘Pramesh is a true believer - having a holy man tell you that Shiva would be ashamed of what you’re planning to do must be hard on the ego. But what are they planning to do? He said it involved manipulating information, but it’d need a catalyst, something that would make lots of people want answers - answers that could be twisted to enrage them . . .’ She looked up at the TV. The piece about Cole’s Japanese visit was wrapping up, a graphic showing that the final leg of his international tour would bring him to Delhi. ‘It’s got to be the summit. It’d explain why they were so desperate to get the Shiva-Vedas - they had a deadline. And if you want to start global chaos, killing a group of world leaders would be about as good a catalyst as you could get.’
‘But how would they get past all the security?’ Eddie asked.
‘I don’t know, God damn it!’ He raised an eyebrow at her snappish reply. ‘Sorry, I’m sorry.’ She let out a frustrated breath. ‘I’m just pissed they got away. And we’ve got no idea where they’ve gone.’
‘Actually, we do.’ They looked round to see Kit, his sprained arm in a sling, limp into the room on a crutch. Behind him were Mac, who smiled broadly on seeing the couple, and another man, thin-faced with a drooping moustache, who appeared considerably less pleased at the sight of them - or of Eddie, at least.
‘Kit!’ Nina cried, jumping up. ‘Are you okay?’
‘The doctor said I will mend,’ said the Indian. He gave his bandaged arm a rueful look. ‘Eventually.’
She smiled, then greeted Mac warmly before giving the moustachioed man a peck on the cheek. ‘And Peter. Good to see you again.’
‘You too, Nina,’ he replied, before regarding Eddie with disdain. ‘Chase. Hello.’
‘Alderley,’ Eddie replied, with equal antipathy.
‘So,’ said the MI6 officer, ‘how was your party?’
Nina looked apologetic. ‘I am so sorry you didn’t get your invitation, Peter. Somebody,’ she glared at Eddie, ‘made a hash of things.’
‘Completely by accident,’ Eddie told him, not quite hiding a smile. ‘I was gutted that you weren’t there, obviously.’
‘Obviously,’ said Alderley, stone-faced. Mac chuckled.
‘In that case, you can apologise to Peter for the, uh, mix-up, can’t you?’ said Nina. When Eddie didn’t reply immediately, she jabbed him with an elbow. ‘Can’t you?’
‘I suppose,’ Eddie said, with a complete lack of contrition.
‘Sorry that you couldn’t come to our wedding do and drone on about restoring your Ford Capri, Alderley.’
Another jab. ‘Eddie!’
‘That’s okay,’ said Alderley sarcastically. ‘It’s the thought that counts. Anyway, I’ve got some information about your friends the Khoils.’ He put a briefcase on the desk, taking out several manila folders and a laptop. ‘While MI6 doesn’t have any specifically actionable intelligence on them, what Mac told me was enough to raise flags. And with the G20 summit going on, any potential threat has to be investigated.’
‘What did you find?’ Nina asked.
‘A lot of financial activity - hardly surprising considering the Khoils own a multinational company, but our banking boffins are always looking for suspicious patterns. They’ve been setting up various . . . well, they’ve described them as “protected archives”, but you could call them bunkers, I suppose. Isolated facilities with everything needed for long-term survival - exactly the kind of thing you’d want if you planned to spark off World War Three. An old salt mine in Montana, something in Australia, Mongolia - and a place in Greenland, which is, according to their flightplan, where they’re going.’
Nina turned to Kit. ‘Can you put out a warrant on them?’
‘I’m afraid not. At the moment, we don’t have enough direct evidence to issue a red notice. Based on our statements there is enough to issue a green notice, but that’s just a warning to local police of possible criminal activity, not a confirmation.’
‘Why the hell would they want to go to Greenland?’ Eddie hooted. ‘There’s not a lot there.’
‘That might be why they’ve gone,’ said Nina, a possibility striking her. ‘Pramesh said one of the reasons they stole those treasures was to protect them while everything else collapses. We saw in Iraq what happened to the country’s museums - they were looted, and most of the contents still haven’t been found. Imagine that on a global scale! But if you wanted to keep something absolutely safe, you’d put it as far away from civilisation as possible - like that seed store in Norway, the Doomsday Vault. Maybe they’re hiding everything they’ve stolen in Greenland. Peter, do you know exactly what kind of facility they have there?’