Vetrov chuckled. He was revelling in the American’s death. “Don’t get so distraught. He was being a gentleman and he put himself first. Sadly, he only bought you a few seconds of extra life, because now it is your turn to join your friend.”
He paused and strutted around the tomb with his hands raised in the air. “This is my first act as a god! Behold it! You must celebrate your death — it is a wonderful and noble thing for a great and powerful immortal like me to use you as an offering to the gods above.”
“You’re not immortal yet, you arsehole,” Lea said, struggling against Kosma’s grip.
“It is only a matter of time, Miss Donovan. Time, of course, being a commodity you have just run out of.” He waved the Grach in her face. “Go over there, please, and stand beside the crocodile pool.”
She kicked against Kosma and began to scream.
“Hush… hush please,” Vetrov said, raising his index finger to his lips to command her silence. “Please don’t debauch this beautiful moment of sacrifice with ungracious behavior. Kosma — please help Miss Donovan to the pool.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Lea struggled against Kosma as he forced her over to the murky, bloody water. She saw with disgust that some of Karlsson’s shredded clothes were floating on the surface. The terrifying reality of the situation struck her like a smack in the face. There was no one to help her — Karlsson was dead and she hadn’t seen Hawke and the others since the Piazza San Marco in Venice when Eden ordered her to give chase to Kodiak and Mazzarro.
She looked at Vetrov’s face — calm, measured, and clearly excited to an unnatural degree by her impending death. It looked like he could hardly wait as the giant Russian had manhandled her across the tomb, her boots kicking out vainly against his might and her screams heard by no one except the ghostly, silent faces on the hieroglyphs.
“This is the greatest moment of your short life, Miss Donovan,” Vetrov said, his eyes rapaciously staring at the pool for the first sign of a crocodile. “Soon, you will be gone, but I will be alive forever, and free to impose my will on the human order for the rest of eternity.”
“You’re absolutely out of your mind, scumbag.”
Her mind raced, but all she could do was play for time in the hope someone might intervene and stop this insanity from unfolding.
“I think not. I will shape a world where a tiny elite rules absolutely and forever, served by thousands of generations of slaves. What could be saner than that?”
“A lunatic asylum?”
“And,” he replied, ignoring her remark, “there’s nothing between me and my destiny except an old map and them of course.”
Lea saw an opportunity to play for more time. “Who are you talking about?”
Vetrov couldn’t resist. “Another curious mind — like your colleague Alex Reeve. She wanted to know the truth as well… but it will do neither of you any good. The real enemy are the athanatoi, Miss Donovan. Not me.”
Before she could reply, he snapped his fingers at Kosma. “It’s time for you to go now.”
Then, the sound of gunfire and the blinding white light of muzzle flashes filled the tomb. Deafening shots rang out in the enclosed space and she heard the sound of Joe Hawke as he shouted orders for people to fan out.
She thought she was saved.
Vetrov spun around and aimed his Grach in the direction of the noise. He fired several shots and dived for cover. Kodiak followed suit, firing a couple of short, aggressive bursts from his Bizon and throwing himself behind the sarcophagus for cover. Kosma was slowest to respond, pushing Lea into the pool and moving behind one of the pillars that held up the tomb. The rest of Vetrov’s men scattered in all directions as they tried to evade the onslaught of bullets tracing all around them, blasting the tomb walls to pieces in the savage attack.
Hawke led the charge, pushing into the tomb without fear and crouching down on one knee to spray a savage burst of fire from the Heckler & Koch MP5K he was gripping in his hands. His bullets traced over the heads of Vetrov and Kodiak, now cowering behind Osiris’s Tomb, but he stopped to re-aim the weapon at one of Vetrov’s men who was making a hasty retreat and trying to reach the door. Hawke took him out in a heartbeat, his bullets ripping through the man’s chest and propelling him backwards into the water behind him.
And that was when he saw Lea in the pool — desperately trying to swim to the low wall which surrounded the water in order to pull herself out.
Hawke jumped to his feet and sprinted across the middle of the fire-fight to reach her on the other side of the tomb. He didn’t see Kosma, who raised his gun and fired at him, narrowly missing his head and obliterating the base of the Osiris statue instead. Hawke’s reaction was like lightning, putting his right foot out and throwing himself to the floor. He extended and swung his right arm under body and executed a perfect parkour diamond shoulder roll. Staying inches ahead of the bullets all the way he did a second roll and then he reached the pool.
“Joe, thank God! I thought I was dead.”
“Not when I’m around you’re bloody not. Take my arm!”
Bullets traced all around them as he wrenched her soaking body from the pool and pulled a Sig Sauer P228 from his belt. “Here, take this.”
“With pleasure, babe,” she said, instinctively checking it was loaded and ready to go.
They took cover behind one of the pillars as Scarlet and Lexi raked the back wall of the tomb with their submachine guns and blasted the decorative glyphs into thousands of irrecoverable pieces. Their efforts worked to keep Vetrov and Kodiak pinned down, but Kosma and the remaining goons were regrouping at the end of the tomb.
A soaking wet Lea scraped her hair back behind her ears and turned a sad face to Hawke. “They killed Brad, Joe.”
Hawke made no reply, but clenched his jaw in anger. He knew the time for revenge was always later, and he also knew he could leave it to Scarlet Sloane, who would be crushed about this death, even if she never showed it.
“And Vetrov’s got the other half of the map.”
“Bollocks — has he?”
“Afraid so. He looked pretty damned smug about it, too.”
“We shall just have to take it back off the twat then, won’t we?”
Hawke felt the ground shake and peered around the pillar to see what was going on.
“What the hell is that?” Lea asked.
“Giant Russian bastard’s got what looks like an old Kord down there.”
Hawke watched as Kosma fired bursts from the chunky belt-fed machine gun. The Kord was a heavy machine gun used by the Russian Army, and when needed, by the Russian Police. With a rate of fire of over seven hundred anti-materiel rifle cartridges per minute it was not a weapon to disrespect.
Lea leaned in. “Problem?”
“Maybe. He’s got Cairo and Lexi pinned down and it’s eating up a fifty-round magazine like a hungry dog with a sausage.”
The former Russian KGB man mercilessly fired the Kord at Scarlet and Lexi who had now both dived for cover to escape its lethal fire.
“Where do these guys keep all this kit?” Hawke asked, incredulous. As he spoke he reloaded his H&K and got ready for another assault on Vetrov.
“Tell me about it!” Lea said, also reloading her Sig. “Every time I go on holiday I forget to pack my heavy machine gun.”
Hawke rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Really, even now you’re still trying to be funny…”
“It’s my Irish charm, Joe Hawke… it’s what attracts you to me and don’t deny it.”
Hawke laughed. “Between your jokes and those Russians, this sodding elixir had bloody well better be worth it!”