The Valhalla Prophecy_A Novel

by Andy McDermott

  ‘And I’m sure the feeling is mutual. But yes, I’m the deputy director of the Biochemical Safety Agency.’

  ‘Never heard of it.’

  Lock smiled. ‘You wouldn’t have.’

  ‘But this must be a major intelligence operation if a big-shot like you is out here in the sweaty arse-crack of nowhere to run it personally. You Yanks are taking a massive risk doing something like this in Vietnam, of all fucking places.’

  The smile became sly. ‘It’s not exactly sanctioned. But I have a high degree of operational autonomy – and sins are always forgiven when a mission is successful. And this is an important mission, make no mistake. You want the Russians to get their hands on the eitr, Chase? Or the Chinese or – God forbid – the Iranians or North Koreans?’

  ‘I don’t want anyone to have the fucking stuff,’ Chase replied. ‘And Natalia doesn’t either.’

  Lock shook his head. ‘What she wants doesn’t really matter. This is way too important to leave up to civilians. Or their consciences.’

  Hoyt put down a radio. ‘They’re on their way, five minutes out.’ He gestured towards the track leading north.

  ‘Good. When they arrive, send them after her – I doubt she’ll have gotten far.’

  ‘What about these two?’ The tall mercenary moved his AK-47 back to Chase and Castille.

  Lock thought for a moment. ‘Make use of them. Chase, you’re going to call her back here.’

  ‘The only thing I’m going to call is you, a twat,’ Chase replied defiantly. Despite the danger of the situation, Castille couldn’t help but smile.

  Hoyt stalked back to the group, gun raised. ‘Watch your fuckin’ mouth.’

  ‘You’ll call for her, Chase,’ said Lock. ‘Because if you don’t, I’ll shoot your friend.’ He aimed the Glock at Castille. ‘Just because I wear a suit rather than a uniform, don’t think I won’t do it.’

  Chase eyed Sullivan’s body. ‘I don’t,’ he growled.

  ‘Good. You’ve got ten seconds.’

  ‘Edward, don’t do it,’ Castille said – though with fear in his voice.

  Chase looked up at Lock and Hoyt, adrenalin driving away the pain. He was certain they intended to kill him and Castille whether or not he did what Lock asked. But from his current position, there was nothing he could do except make a futile attempt to tackle one of them, which would get him shot before he’d covered even half the distance . . .

  It was either that or watch Castille die, then wait for a bullet of his own. He was not going to surrender Natalia to them, no matter what.

  ‘Five seconds.’

  He shared a brief glance with Castille, communicating his intentions in an instant: fight to the end. The Belgian understood, also preparing to move.

  ‘Four. Three.’

  Chase tensed—

  ‘Don’t shoot! Please, don’t hurt them!’

  All heads snapped round at the sound of Natalia’s voice. ‘No, run!’ Chase cried as she emerged from the bushes – only to freeze as he saw what she was holding.

  The landmine was balanced precariously on her outstretched left hand. The detonator had been screwed back into position, and the wire removed from the safety pin hole. Her right hand was held palm down just above the trigger’s rusted prongs.

  The three mercenaries all regarded the weapon with alarm. ‘Is it live?’ Castille asked cautiously as the young woman moved towards them.

  ‘It was when I took the detonator out,’ Chase replied, grim-faced.

  ‘But the detonator is now back in.’

  ‘Yeah, I noticed!’

  Lock was more interested in Natalia than in what she was holding. ‘I told you she wouldn’t go far. Natalia, if you want your friends to live, you’ll do exactly what I tell you.’

  ‘Let them go,’ she replied, voice trembling. ‘Or I use this.’

  He moved his gaze to her hands. ‘What is that? A landmine?’

  ‘Hell yeah, it’s a landmine,’ Hoyt muttered. ‘It’s a goddamn Bouncing Betty!’

  Concern finally crossed Lock’s face as he registered the other American’s nervousness. ‘How dangerous is it?’

  ‘It’ll kill us all if it goes off.’

  Lock stiffened. Natalia stepped closer. ‘Don’t move,’ she ordered. ‘Drop your guns or I will blow us all up.’

  ‘Put it down or I’ll shoot them,’ he countered.

  She lowered her right hand until the prongs touched her skin. ‘I’ll do it, I will do it! Let them go!’

  ‘You won’t kill yourself. Or them.’ Lock relaxed slightly, smugness creeping into his expression. ‘I may not be your father, but I still know a lot about you. You’re a peacenik – you wouldn’t kill anyone. You couldn’t.’

  ‘You do not know me at all,’ she said. Though her voice was still shaky, Chase recognised the same resolve behind it as when she told him of her hatred for weapons of war. ‘I know why you want to use me – you, and the Russians. You want to start Serafim Volkov’s work again. Yes, I know all about him,’ she added on seeing Lock’s surprise, ‘and what he did to my grandmother, and my mother – and to me. I will not let you do that!’

  Lock’s response was to move the Glock away from Castille, aiming at her legs. ‘Put it down, Natalia, or I’ll put you down.’

  ‘Don’t!’ said Hoyt. ‘If she drops it, it’ll go off!’ His boss hesitated.

  ‘You think that because I believe in peace, I am a coward?’ Natalia went on, stopping ten feet from the four men. ‘You are wrong. I will not allow you to use me to make a weapon. I already know that I will not live to be old, because of my grandfather’s experiments – but I would rather die to save lives than in pain in a hospital bed.’

  ‘You’d be killing Chase and his friend too,’ Lock said.

  ‘We’re fine with that,’ said Chase. Castille raised a forefinger, about to express his own opinion to the contrary, but the Englishman continued: ‘If it stops you arseholes from getting your hands on a bioweapon, then it’s worth it. So if you don’t drop your guns . . . then Natalia, blow us up.’ He gave her a look to assure her he was serious, then turned back to Lock. ‘You’ve got ten seconds.’

  The American’s gun was still pointed at Natalia, but was no longer rock-steady. ‘Hoyt!’ said Lock. ‘Do something!’

  ‘Do what?’ protested the mercenary. ‘If that mine blows, we’re all dead!’

  ‘It might be a dud!’

  ‘You wanna bet your life on that?’ To Lock’s dismay, Hoyt cautiously lowered his AK-47 to the ground.

  Chase smiled coldly at Lock. ‘Four. Three . . .’

  ‘God damn it!’ Lock spat. He dropped the Glock.

  ‘Smart lad,’ said Chase, standing and collecting the fallen gun. Castille did the same with the AK, gesturing for Hoyt to back away. ‘Natalia, stay still until we’ve dealt with these two.’

  ‘Okay,’ she said, the tremor returning to her voice.

  ‘Edward, we have to get out of here,’ Castille said. He glanced towards the northern track. There was not yet any indication of approaching vehicles, but the river’s noise masked out other sounds.

  ‘We’ll take the jeep,’ said Chase, quickly checking the Glock before pointing it at its former owner. They would have to go south; a risk, as it took them back in the direction of the Russian camp, but it would be preferable to running head-on into a truck full of what he expected to be well-armed mercenaries. He waved for Lock to join Hoyt. ‘You two dickheads, get your hands up and move back. Now!’ The two Americans reluctantly obeyed.

  Castille climbed into the Land Cruiser and started the engine. Chase went to the young German. ‘Okay, Natalia, I’ll take the mine. Move your hand off the top, it’s okay.’

  Both her hands shook as she offered the weapon to him. He splayed his left fingers, palm up, and carefully took its weight. She gasped in relief as it finally left her grip. ‘Okay, get in the jeep,’ he ordered. She hurried to the Toyota.

  Chase kept the gun trained on Hoyt and L
ock as he backed off the wooden deck. Natalia got into the front passenger seat; he went to the open tailgate.

  Castille regarded the Bouncing Betty with disbelief. ‘Why are you bringing that?’

  ‘I’m not bringing it, I’m using it!’ The sound of another engine, approaching quickly from the north, had just reached the Englishman. He crouched and put the landmine in one of the muddy ruts, then jumped into the back of the Land Cruiser and yanked the tailgate shut. ‘Okay, go!’

  Castille set off in a spray of mud, the 4x4 fishtailing across the sodden trail before finding grip and jumping forward. Loose items skittered about the rear cargo area as he accelerated, Chase amongst them. He grabbed one of the folded seats to brace himself and looked back. Lock and Hoyt were already running towards the track – and waving furiously, not at him but at a second Land Cruiser that had just come into sight.

  Its driver reacted to their warning, braking hard. But the sheer weight of the big SUV and its occupants sent it slithering onwards through the mud, the rutted surface channelling it directly at the waiting landmine.

  Lock and Hoyt both flung themselves flat as the Toyota’s front wheel hit the Bouncing Betty—

  Even though he was now outside the weapon’s effective range, Chase instinctively ducked – but there was no explosion. A feeble puff of smoke came from the detonator. Then Castille rounded a bend in the track, but Chase still managed a short laugh at the sight of a mud-stained Lock looking up in a mixture of relief and fury before being lost to view. ‘Christ! All that faffing about, and we could have used the bloody thing as a football if we’d wanted.’

  ‘It did not blow up?’ asked Natalia.

  ‘Nope – although I wish it had, ’cause now we’ve got a whole truckful of those arseholes coming after us!’

  ‘Oh, merveilleux,’ sighed Castille. ‘I do not suppose you have a plan, Edward? No, of course not,’ he added.

  ‘I’ll come up with something. Just keep going.’ He looked at Natalia. ‘That was good thinking back there – a hell of a bluff,’ he told her with admiration. ‘I was convinced, so I’m not surprised they bought it too.’

  ‘So did I!’ Castille said with a grimace.

  ‘I was not bluffing,’ she replied quietly.

  He was not sure how to respond to the admission, but had no time to do so as he saw headlights in the rear-view mirror. The second Land Cruiser was powering after them. ‘Hugo, put your foot down,’ he said, pocketing the Glock and reaching over the rear seat for the Belgian’s AK-47. ‘Here they come.’

  19

  Russia

  ‘Get behind me,’ Eddie told Nina and Tova, his eyes fixed on Slavin’s gun.

  Tova obeyed, but Nina stayed beside him, crouching to check on Eisenhov. ‘He’s still alive – we’ve got to help him.’

  She reached out to apply pressure to the gushing bullet wound, but Slavin jabbed his pistol at her. ‘No! Up! Stand up! Or I shoot you too.’ She reluctantly straightened.

  ‘You were working for the Americans,’ said Kagan, disgusted. ‘All these years, you were a spy for them! Why?’

  The Russian officer was sweating, almost hyperventilating in his near-panic. ‘I – I lost money gambling,’ he gasped. ‘I had to borrow from gangsters to pay for it. If the Americans had not helped, they would have killed me!’

  ‘So you became a traitor?’ said Nina.

  ‘A traitor?’ Slavin said, nearly screeching. He stepped closer and stabbed the gun at her again. ‘To what? This country is run by gangsters, bottom to top – everyone is corrupt! If you do not have money, you are no one!’ He glanced at the fallen steel canister. ‘But I will have money – I will sell Thor’s Hammer to the Americans. And then I will disappear.’ With his free hand, he fumbled for a radio on his belt. ‘After I shoot the spies who have killed Dmitri Prokopiyevich!’ He spoke in frantic Russian into the handset.

  ‘He is telling them we murdered the Academician,’ Kagan warned the others.

  ‘Shut up!’ Slavin stepped over Eisenhov and pointed the gun at his commander. ‘I have wanted to do this for a long—’

  Eisenhov jerked one leg sideways to hit Slavin’s ankle with his foot. It was only a light impact, but enough to make the already agitated officer flinch and look down.

  His gun twitched away from Kagan—

  Eddie kicked the armchair at Slavin. Its broad back hit the Russian, sending him reeling. Before he could recover, Eddie used the chair as a springboard to dive at him. Both men crashed against a bookshelf, volumes cascading down.

  The Englishman took a particularly hefty tome to the top of his head. ‘Fuck!’ he yelped, quickly shaking off the pain, but the distraction gave Slavin an opening. He drove his elbow into Eddie’s stomach, knocking him back, then spun and brought up his gun—

  Nina snatched up the steel container by its handle and smashed it against his outstretched hand with all her strength.

  Slavin shrieked as two of his fingers broke, only for his wail to be abruptly cut off as Eddie drove a punishing punch into his face. The Russian tumbled back over the armchair, blood spurting from his burst lip.

  Kagan retrieved the gun, then hurriedly checked on Eisenhov. ‘Nyet!’ he gasped, mortified. The scientist wasn’t breathing. Tova put her hands to her mouth in horror.

  ‘Slavin would have killed us if not for him,’ Nina reminded them. ‘He saved us.’

  Though dismayed, Kagan nodded as he stood. ‘He was a good man – a hero.’

  Eddie kicked Slavin. ‘Unlike this twat. What do we do with him?’

  Alarm bells sounded. ‘Watch him,’ said Kagan, picking up the radio. He spoke rapidly into it, only for his face to fall as he listened to the reply. ‘This is not good,’ he told the others.

  ‘What did they say?’ Nina asked.

  ‘They believed him – they think we are spies, that we killed the Academician!’

  ‘But you are in charge here!’ Tova protested. ‘Can’t you tell them that we did not?’

  Kagan glared at Slavin. ‘He is in charge of security at this bunker. They are his men, they are all chosen and promoted by him. Everyone is corrupt, indeed!’ He thought for a moment. ‘We must protect Thor’s Hammer,’ he said, indicating the container. ‘We cannot allow him to give it to the Americans.’ He stepped on Slavin’s injured hand, making him scream. ‘To get past his men, we will have to use him as a hostage.’

  ‘Or a shield.’ Eddie hauled the anguished Russian to his feet. ‘Is there any way out except for the lift?’ Kagan shook his head. ‘You lot weren’t big on health and safety in the Cold War, were you?’

  ‘You will not get out,’ rasped Slavin. ‘The bunker is locked down.’

  ‘I can override the lockdown when we get to the elevator,’ insisted Kagan.

  ‘If we get to the elevator,’ Nina said. ‘We’re at the opposite end of the bunker, and there are all those security doors to get through – as well as however many of his guys are waiting for us outside!’

  Kagan gave her a grim smile. ‘Let us find out.’ He grabbed Slavin from Eddie, twisting his wounded hand behind his back and pushing the gun to his head. ‘You will tell your men to stay back, or I will kill you.’

  ‘If you shoot me, they will shoot you,’ Slavin growled in reply.

  ‘Then let’s hope nobody shoots anyone, huh?’ said Nina.

  Kagan nodded. ‘Let us hope. Chase? Check the door.’

  Eddie eased it open a crack. A man outside shouted in Russian. ‘What did he say?’

  ‘He wants us to let Slavin go, and surrender,’ said Kagan. He called out in his native language, then told Eddie: ‘Open it.’

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘I said I have him at gunpoint, and to pull back if they want him to live.’

  ‘Hope he wasn’t a shitty boss, then.’ Eddie took a breath, then swung the door wide.

  They were not greeted by gunfire. ‘Okay, that’s a start,’ said Nina. She peered nervously around the two Russians to see several uniformed men,
weapons raised, at an intersection thirty feet down the main corridor. ‘Although it’s still not exactly a great one.’

  Kagan barked an order in Russian; when nothing happened, he ground the muzzle of his gun against Slavin’s head. His sweating prisoner reluctantly nodded, and the soldiers slowly backed away. ‘Dr Wilde, Dr Skilfinger – stay behind me.’

  Pushing Slavin ahead of him, he advanced through the door. Nina and Tova followed, Eddie joining the slow-moving line behind them. Kagan spoke to the Russians again, only to be interrupted by Slavin – whose frantic gabble broke off with a cry of pain as the other man crushed his hand. ‘Govno!’ Kagan growled, before telling the others: ‘He told them to shoot us – if they can do it without hitting him.’

  Eddie looked ahead. ‘They’ll cut us down from the side corridors. We’ll never make it fucking plodding along like this.’

  Slavin managed a pained chuckle. ‘You think you can force me to run, Grigory Alekseyevich? Even with a gun to my head?’

  ‘Then we’ll have to do something else,’ said Eddie. He spotted a fire extinguisher clipped to a bracket a few paces ahead. ‘Kagan, are you a good shot?’

  The Russian nodded. ‘Yes.’

  ‘A really good shot?’

  ‘Yes, yes!’

  They reached the extinguisher. ‘Okay – then shoot this!’

  Eddie yanked it from its clips and flung it down the corridor. It bounced off the hard floor with a loud clang, skittering into the intersection—

  Kagan whipped the gun away from Slavin’s head and fired. The bullet hit the pressurised metal cylinder – which exploded. The blast knocked the soldiers down, a freezing cloud of carbon dioxide leaving them blinded and choking.

  ‘Run!’ Eddie yelled, racing past the others towards the junction. ‘Come on!’

  Kagan shoved Slavin forward, but the traitor deliberately stumbled, dropping flat to the floor. Kagan hesitated, then ran after Eddie. Both women followed him, Tova skirting the fallen man while Nina trampled on his hand, making him scream again.

  Eddie held his breath and ran into the cloud. It was already dispersing, shadowy shapes resolving into the Russian soldiers. He kicked the closest of the staggering figures in the head, then snatched up his AK-103 assault rifle. Another savage kick downed a second trooper, then he was through the swirling mist.