“Bastards are blowing their way into the hidden chamber,” Hawke said.
They reached the entrance to the temple, and immediately saw the devastation caused by the explosion. Rubble and dust lay all over the floor of the entrance and in the far wall, and where once had been impressive glyphs of Osiris himself, was an enormous, ragged hole with smoke drifting out of it. Among the rubble, like rubbish, were the corpses of half a dozen security guards, some crushed by the rock that had been blown out of the wall by Vetrov’s explosives.
“I see we have another lover of antiquity,” Scarlet said as she surveyed the destruction and booted a piece of wall out of her way, totally ignoring the dead bodies. “Those glyphs were thousands of years old.”
Hawke nodded but ignored the comment. “Let’s go.”
They walked into the smoke and found themselves descending inside the tunnel along a shallow slope. Keeping to the walls and guns raised in firing position, Hawke led the way along the ancient tunnel. He paused for a moment to listen.
“I can hear something up ahead somewhere. Maybe we’re not that far behind.”
“Smashing,” Scarlet said. Her words were punctuated by the sound of her moving the cocking handle on her Heckler & Koch submachine gun. “Let’s blow some balls off.”
Hawke rolled his eyes in the semi-darkness of the tunnel and gave them the hand signal to move on.
They reached the end of the tunnel and Hawke peered around the corner. “Looks like this thing goes deeper than we thought. Whoever I heard is long gone — we have a way to go yet before we catch them up.”
Maxim Vetrov’s eyes widened when he saw the cavern beneath the temple. It was not as grand as he had hoped, but there was no doubt they were in the right place. An enormous statue of Osiris was looming in the darkness on the far wall, and at its base was a small doorway leading into another chamber.
“What was that?” Vetrov said, his voice echoing in the cold, silent cavern.
“What?” Kodiak said.
“I thought I heard water — coming from there.” Vetrov pointed his freshly loaded Grach at the doorway in the base of the Osiris statue. “We have no time to waste.”
They went through the gateway and found themselves in a rectangular tomb decorated with ornate paintings of the Egyptian gods and goddesses and colourful hieroglyphs all over the walls. The tomb was damp, and musty, and against the far wall was an angular sarcophagus.
“We meet at last, Osiris,” Vetrov said as he paced forward and ran his hands over the stonework. Then he turned wide-eyed and saw what was beyond the sarcophagus — a great pool filled with green water. “So the legends are true,” he said as he stared at the water. “The true Tomb of Osiris really is protected by the Nile after all — and by the gods who swim in it.” As he spoke, Lea saw a movement in the water.
Vetrov moved slowly around the room, no longer hurried by any sense of danger. He caressed the stone edges of the sarcophagus and walked toward the pool of water, his hands trembling with anticipation. He mumbled what sounded like some kind of mantra, and continued talking to himself as he stared into the water of the pool, always keeping a safe distance. This was a man who knew better than most what was lurking beneath the surface.
This was more than a tomb to Vetrov. This was a vindication of everything he had spent his life believing. His rage when he had heard about the discovery of the vault of Poseidon now paled into insignificance when compared to his — the discovery of the tomb of Osiris.
For most, such a discovery would be the crowning achievement of their careers, but to Maxim Vetrov this place was a mere stepping stone to the greatest secret on earth. To most men, Osiris was a god, but to Vetrov he was merely a man who had harnessed the oldest and most powerful energy in the universe, and now he was going to seize that power for himself.
And he was closer than ever before.
Closer than anyone else.
“Kosma — have the men open the sarcophagus. I want the other half of the map and I have waited long enough.”
Kosma selected a few men and some equipment and obediently padded over to the sarcophagus. It didn’t take them long to lift a gap under the lid with their crowbars and then lash some ropes underneath the heavy slab to raise it up. Kosma had the strength of at least two men, and with the other men also heaving, a few moments later the lid scraped and crunched its way off the top of the sarcophagus and crashed to the ground. Professional excavators would have secured it by tying it off, but Vetrov was only interested in the contents of the tomb, not preserving anything for humanity. Humanity, after all, belonged to him now.
He approached the sarcophagus, his face a study of tentative anxiety mixed with clear madness. He leaned inside and a moment later held up a roll of parchment. “I have it! I have it at last!”
Lea sighed inwardly as a wave of despair washed over her. Maxim Vetrov now had the entire map and Dario Mazzarro to translate it. He would reach the source of eternal life first and become an immortal — impervious to attack.
He walked toward her but stopped when he saw some movement in the water. “What’s this?” he said, moving over to the pool. “Ah — the crocodiles are here. This pool is connected to the Nile, you see.” He thought for a few moments, stared at his prisoners, then the parchment and then back to the prisoners.
“I was planning on doing this later, on the river, but now seems like a more fortuitous time. Bring me the woman.”
Kosma moved forward and grabbed Lea roughly by the shoulders. He dragged her across the tomb toward Vetrov and the pool.
“Don’t you touch her, you coward!” Karlsson shouted. “If you need to sacrifice someone to your damned gods then make it me. Just leave her alone.”
Vetrov tipped his head as he considered Karlsson’s plea. Lea watched the Russian billionaire as he thought the proposition over, staring at the American with nothing but hatred in his ice-cold eyes.
“Very well, in that case Kodiak, bring me the American.”
Kodiak waved a pistol in Karlsson’s face and made him march closer to Vetrov and the crocodiles in the pool.
“Be careful what you wish for, Navy Seal,” Vetrov said.
“Kiss my ass, Vetrov,” was all Karlsson said.
Vetrov raised his arm and fired the Grach at Karlsson.
Lea jumped with the shock of the gunshot, which struck the American in the throat and sent him stumbling backwards to the water’s edge.
“No!” Lea gasped, and covered her mouth in shock. Bradley Karlsson’s eyes swivelled madly as he tried to make sense of things. He was coughing blood and trying to talk, but just managed to stop himself going over the edge. His hands were clutching at the blood which now poured from his wounded throat and he was unable to react when Kodiak turned to him and gave him a gentle nudge with the barrel of his gun.
Lea was unable to move in Kosma’s iron grip and watched with horror as Karlsson fell back into the pool, his broad frame hitting the surface of the green water with a tremendous splash and sending a spray of bloody water over the wall opposite them. She was numb with shock as a large crocodile set upon the American, sinking its teeth into the flesh of his neck and shoulder. After a hideous moment when the two of them thrashed about for supremacy, the inevitable happened and the crocodile dragged him under the surface.
“You son of a bitch!” she screamed. She watched the pool desperately in the vain hope Karlsson might suddenly launch himself from the surface but it was silent, and she knew he was dead. The amount of blood in the water told her that, and now not only was Karlsson gone, but she was totally alone in the tomb with these psychopaths.