The Valhalla Prophecy (63 page)

The Englishman was already rushing in the other direction. He had to take out Hoyt before he recovered—

He rounded the smashed span—to find that he was too late.

Hoyt had regained his footing. The men’s eyes met as they swung their guns toward each other—

The American fired first—but his shot was not a bullet. His forefinger was on the grenade launcher’s trigger.

Another shotgun blast—and Eddie reeled in pain as the projectile struck his shoulder.

But it didn’t explode. The grenade needed to travel a minimum distance before arming, a safety feature to protect the shooter. Instead, it was deflected away across the cavern.

Hoyt saw Eddie stagger and drop the Wildey, grinning in triumph as he brought his hand back to the rifle’s grip to finish him off—

The grenade hit a cluster of crystals—and detonated.

Eddie was sent sprawling by the blast, broken fragments hitting his back. Though Hoyt was farther away, he was facing the explosion, and he screwed up his face in pain as shrapnel stabbed at his eyes. He lurched backward, this time falling. The rifle landed stock-first and was jolted from his hand.

Above, Nina heard the explosion and fought through her fatigue to look down into the cavern. A swelling cloud of smoke marked where the grenade had hit—and worryingly close to it she saw her husband lying facedown. Hoyt was a few yards away, one hand to his face—then he shook off the pain to search for his gun. “Eddie, look out!”

Eddie heard his wife’s voice through the ringing in his ears. He raised his head and saw Hoyt crawling for the fallen SIG. “No you fucking
don’t
,” he snarled, forcing himself up with a surge of pure hate-driven energy.

Face cut and bloodied, Hoyt reached the gun—just as Eddie dived at him. The two men rolled across the unstable ground, rivulets of eitr stabbing toward them as the crystals shifted and sank. “Twat!” the Yorkshireman spat as he drove a punch into Hoyt’s stomach. The American let out a strangled gasp. Eddie got on top of him, clamping one hand around his throat as he drew back his arm to deliver another brutal blow at Hoyt’s face—

Hoyt’s groping hand found a coconut-sized hunk of debris—which he smacked against the side of Eddie’s head. “Yeah, you son of a bitch!” he rasped as his opponent
cried out. Another strike, and Eddie fell sideways, releasing his hold. “Come on, you bastard!” He jumped up, kicking the Englishman in the ribs and sending him tumbling toward the edge of the eitr pool.

Nina helplessly watched the brawl—then spotted something below her. Dull highlights along dark metal were picked out by one of the glowing globes.

Her AK-12. It had landed atop a crooked spar that crossed about nine feet below her position. “Logan!” she called. Berkeley peered over the ledge. “I’m going for the gun. You try to reach Thor’s Hammer—we’ve got to get it to the pool, no matter what!”

“But it’s all the way down there!” he objected, pointing at the canister. It was still wedged between two intercrossing arms of black crystal.

“You’ve got more chance of getting to it—the gap’s too wide for me to jump over. But you can reach it by going down that.” She indicated one of the snake-like columns, which in its growth had spiraled around part of the shaft’s circumference before a slow-motion collision with another rising crystal pillar had forced it back upward.

“It’s too steep! I’m not a monkey.”

“If you don’t, then in about ten minutes you’ll be a radioactive cinder!”

Berkeley rapidly reconsidered. “Okay, I’ll try.” He gingerly lowered himself over the side of the outcrop.

“Good!” She crawled along the slanting span until she was above the gun, then gripped the crystal and slid over the edge—becoming acutely aware that her landing zone was barely a foot wide, and directly above the eitr …

No time to hesitate. The missile was still on its way. She looked down again, lining up with her worryingly narrow target, then dropped.

The actual fall was only a few feet, but that was still enough to jar her as she landed, making her tip backward over the void. She gasped, flailing—

The movement counterbalanced her, just for a moment. She seized it, bending at the knees to drop to all fours, gasping for breath.

The Kalashnikov was a few feet away. She scrambled to it.

“Nina!” Kagan shouted, seeing what she was doing. “Lock is getting away! I need cover!”

Nina retrieved the rifle. Her first thought was to help her husband, but as she looked down she realized that the Russian’s demand had to take priority. Lock and the man carrying the eitr sample were scaling the angled crystal pillars, zigzagging upward. She didn’t have a clear line of fire on them, the two men flitting in and out of her view between other black columns—but she
could
see the mercenaries still in the cavern, both of whom had their weapons locked on Kagan’s position.

She took aim at one of the men below, and fired.

The bullet missed by mere inches, cracking off a crystal. But it achieved its purpose. Both men swung their guns around to find the new threat. Nina jerked back as shots ripped into the span beneath her—

Kagan popped out from his own cover and fired. One man went down in a spray of blood as several rounds struck him in the head and chest. The other immediately realized where the greater danger lay and spun back to retarget the Russian.

He wasn’t fast enough. Another burst from the AK-12 hit home. He screamed, losing his footing and plunging into the eitr. Sizzling steam gushed up around him as he sank into the turgid depths.

“Get Thor’s Hammer down to the lake!” Kagan called to Berkeley, who was unsteadily picking his way down the wall. “I’ll get Lock!” He made a running jump to another spar to intercept the American and his follower.

Nina turned her attention back to Eddie, whose battle with Hoyt had taken them out of sight behind more crystal columns. “God damn it!” she spat. She slung the rifle, then searched for a line of sight.

Below, Eddie was still on the defensive as Hoyt forced him ever closer to the edge of the eitr. The mercenary’s height advantage over the former SAS soldier also gave him greater reach, and he was making full use of it, able to strike repeatedly while preventing Eddie from retaliating. “Looks like you screwed it all up again, Chase!” said the American, feigning an attack with his right hand only to dart in with a painful punch from his left. “I guess failing’s what you’re best at, huh?” Another blow, the Englishman barely deflecting it.

“You don’t fucking know me,” Eddie growled.

“Neither does your wife up there! You didn’t tell her you
murdered
the girl you were supposed to rescue? I’d call that a major-league fuckup!”

Another punch rushed at Eddie’s head—

This time he wasn’t quite fast enough to block it, taking a sense-jangling blow that left him staggering. One foot came down heavily on a crystal shard—which sank, forcing up a boil of dark slime. Only the Yorkshireman’s reflexes kept his boot from slipping into the eitr, but he still stumbled backward against one of the large vertical pillars.

Hoyt saw his chance and aimed a vicious kick at his adversary’s groin. Eddie snapped down his right arm to shield himself from a blow that would have ended the fight on the spot—but still screamed at a searing bolt of pain as the American’s steel-toed boot fractured one of the bones in his hand.

The mercenary struck again, this time slamming a knee up into his stomach. Choking and sickened, Eddie slumped against the base of the column.

Hoyt drew back to deliver a kick to the winded man’s face—then spotted something at his feet and picked it up instead. It was a shard of black crystal, over a foot long, with a razor-edged tip as sharp as a spear point. He grinned as he raised it, ready to plunge it into Eddie’s throat. “Been waiting eight years for this—”

Blood and shredded flesh burst from his shoulder.

Hoyt reeled, staring in shocked agony at the bullet’s exit wound—as Eddie fought through the pain of his own injuries and grabbed the black dagger, twisting it to point vertically. “Me too.”

He sprang from the floor, all his strength driving the shard upward into Hoyt’s jaw.

The tip stabbed through the tissue under the mercenary’s chin, tearing through his tongue and the soft palate above before striking and snapping bone. A wet crackle came from inside the American’s skull.

Hoyt stared in bug-eyed horror at Eddie, too shocked to move—and unable to scream with his airways choked by gushing blood. The Englishman twisted the spike, corkscrewing it deeper into his enemy’s brain. “I didn’t fail,” he said in a growling whisper. “I
won
. I beat you eight years ago, you just didn’t know it …” He yanked out the shard, more blood sluicing from the gaping hole under the mercenary’s jaw. “And I won again now.”

Hoyt clawed desperately at his torn throat, then slumped to his knees, a strangled rattling sound escaping his gaping mouth. The Yorkshireman stared coldly at him for a moment—before launching into sudden movement. “Now
fuck off
!” he roared, kicking Hoyt hard in the side of his head and bowling him into the lake.

The mercenary was still alive as the steaming black ooze swallowed him. His skin sizzled on contact with the lethal poison, a gurgling howl finally escaping from Hoyt’s mouth as the eitr bubbled up over his neck, his face … and then he was gone, nothing but sludgy ripples left to mark his passing.

Eddie dropped the gore-soaked dagger and wearily turned to find his savior. It took him a moment to spot Nina in the shaft high above; she’d found a clear firing angle between the crystalline pillars. “Are you okay?” she asked anxiously.

“Just about,” he called back. “But it would’ve been a lot easier if you’d aimed at his head.”

She raised the AK-12 with a helpless shrug. “I
did
!”

He managed a pained smile, then heard another shout
from above. “Nina!” cried Berkeley. He had reached Thor’s Hammer. “I’ve got it, I’ve got the—”

Another burst of gunfire echoed through the chamber. Not from Nina’s AK-12, but a SIG.

“Logan!” she cried, seeing her former colleague flinch, then collapse. Lines of dark red trickled down Berkeley’s coat from the three scorched bullet holes across his chest.