The Valhalla Prophecy

by Andy McDermott

  “I don’t think your bosses would like that,” she replied.

  Tarnowski sneered. “I honestly don’t think they give a fuck. We got other ways to get your blond friend to do as she’s told besides threatening to shoot you. Just stay still, now.” He gripped her bound wrists for emphasis.

  Nina glared at him, then looked away. The icerunner was rapidly closing. Eddie had outfought the two men on the snowmobiles, but the four-by-four was a much more stable firing platform, and Treynor was using both hands to aim …

  Her heart jumped as she saw that the mercenary had another weapon. There was a knife in a sheath on his belt—and by turning around, he had put it almost within her reach.

  But as long as Tarnowski was holding her wrists, there was no way she could take it.

  She looked back at the icerunner. It was now close enough for her to make out the figure in its cockpit. Treynor had seen him too. “Come to Papa,” said the mercenary, taking aim.

  Eddie readied the Wildey again. Even had he not kept count of his shots, he would have been able to tell by the slight shift in its weight and balance that it was no longer fully loaded. Five bullets left, that was all.

  And he wasn’t even sure if he dared use them on the rapidly approaching four-by-four. The Wildey’s rounds were powerful enough not just to penetrate the sheet steel bodywork of a car, but to punch all the way through to the other side. If he landed a shot on the SUV, the bullet might also hit Nina.

  The man leaning out of the rear window had no such concerns. He fired a three-round burst. They fell short, kicking up little fountains of ice ahead of the icerunner. It was beyond the P90’s effective range.

  But it would not be for long.

  Eddie moved closer to the right-hand bank, trying to slot in behind the four-by-four so the gunman would lose line of sight, but the Volvo’s driver did the same. The ice became rougher as he neared the shore, vibrations through the runners hammering at the base of his spine. No option but to move back toward the center—if he hit a protruding rock, it could rip off a skid.

  A burst of bullets tore past. The mercenary was refining his aim as his target drew nearer. If the Englishman didn’t do something, he would be a sitting duck.

  Eddie caught sight of the figures inside the vehicle once more. One was noticeably smaller than the others: Nina—and he realized she was looking at him. He brought up his gun hand, but rather than shoot, he gestured with the Wildey, pointing it downward …

  Tarnowski turned to watch the approaching icerunner, though he still kept his hold on Nina’s arm. “Ha!” he said as he saw their pursuer wave his hand. “He daren’t shoot at us—not while we’ve got his woman.”

  Nina knew what Eddie was telling her to do, though. “Not while she’s got her head up, you mean.”

  “What?” As Tarnowski glanced at her, she dropped as low as she could in the seat, hunching her chin down against her chest. “Hey, wait a—”

  The rear window exploded into fragments.

  Eddie saw Nina’s shadow slip out of sight, and immediately snapped up his gun and fired twice. One of the bullets went high, the other shattering the tailgate window. But he knew in the tiny fraction of a second when the point of impact was visible before the glass disintegrated that he hadn’t hit anyone within, the round landing off to one side.

  It had the effect he’d hoped for, though. The vehicle swerved as the shocked driver jerked the steering wheel, throwing the gunman off target as he fired again. Eddie saw his chance and accelerated, swinging the icerunner back behind the off-roader. If he could get close enough before the mercenaries recovered, he might have a clear shot—

  Too slow. The XC90 straightened out, then again pulled toward the right bank. The gunman banged a fist angrily against the four-by-four’s side and pushed himself upright.

  He took aim at the Yorkshireman.

  Tarnowski had ducked and flinched when the back window blew out …

  Letting go of Nina.

  She saw her chance—and took it, grabbing Treynor’s knife with her zip-cuffed hands and yanking it from its sheath. Before either of the mercenaries flanking her could react, she plunged the blade into Treynor’s side.

  He screamed, arching his back in convulsive pain and banging his head against the window frame. Tarnowski tried to grab her, but she spun and slashed the bloodied knife across his palm. He jerked away, clutching his wounded hand.

  Treynor writhed, trying to pull himself back inside, but found Nina blocking him. She glimpsed the chrome handle of the door release behind him, lunged for it, pulled—

  The mercenary’s weight made the door swing outward—and Nina threw herself against him, barging him into the open. He fell, screaming again as he hit the ice at forty miles per hour and tumbled along behind the Volvo.

  “Fucking bitch!” snarled Tarnowski. She tried to bring up the knife again, but this time he was prepared for her attack. He grabbed her wrist, then used his greater strength to smash her bound hands painfully against her knees until she lost her grip on the blade. It fell to the floor. He drove a brutal blow with his forearm against her face, knocking her back into her seat. Only the thick quilting of his coat saved her from a broken nose.

  “What the fuck is going on back there?” Wake cried, but Tarnowski ignored him, instead reaching over the backseat to grab another P90.

  Eddie saw the mercenary fall from the four-by-four, a bright red bloodstain on his coat. “Nice one, love,” he said to himself—only to realize that while the man was down, he definitely wasn’t out. Despite the hard landing, he had slithered to a far less damaging standstill than he would have on concrete or earth.

  And he had kept hold of his gun.

  Treynor managed to stand, shakily raising the P90 as the icerunner bore down on him. He brought the sights to his eye, locking on to the vehicle’s driver—

  Eddie jerked his foot off the throttle pedal. The icerunner’s tail end shimmied again with the sudden loss of power, threatening to slide out—and he made the threat a reality as he hauled the wheel hard over and threw the vehicle into a spin.

  It skidded around through 180 degrees, tearing up chunks of ice as its runners scraped sidelong over the surface and almost flipping over—until Eddie again leaned out to bring it crashing back down on all three skids. The icerunner was now hurtling backward …

  Straight at Treynor.

  Eddie stamped on the pedal. The engine shrieked, the propeller roaring to full speed and turning the mercenary into a red spray as the icerunner plowed into him. All that was left intact were his legs, from the knees down, which managed to stay upright for a couple of seconds as the decelerating vehicle glided over them before slowly toppling amid a splattered pool of visceral crimson.

  “You’re screwed,” said Eddie with a grimace. He eased off the throttle and turned the wheel, bringing the icerunner around after the convoy once more.

  The two leading SUVs and the remaining icerunner were now lost to sight behind snow-laden trees around a tight bend in the river. Nina’s XC90 had pulled away again during his grisly encounter with Treynor. He accelerated, following it. There were still two mercs to deal with before he could rescue her; one would be occupied with driving, but the other remained a threat. He readied the Wildey. Three bullets left. Not good.

  Nor was his situation, he realized, as he saw movement in the four-by-four—

  “Fuck you! Fuck you!” Tarnowski howled as he let rip with his P90 on full auto through the four-by-four’s broken rear window. Nina shrieked and brought up her cuffed arms to protect her face as empty cartridges spat from the gun’s ejection port and bounced around the car’s interior. “Come on, you motherfucker! Bring it!”

  “Shit!” Eddie turned hard as a line of bullet impacts raced along the ice toward him. Shots tore into the bodywork behind his seat. A harsh clunk reverberated through the entire vehicle as the engine block took a hit. He dropped the Wildey onto his lap, forced to grab the wheel with both hands to maintain cont
rol.

  The gunfire stopped; the mercenary had burned through an entire magazine in mere seconds. But the figure inside the SUV was already reaching for a replacement.

  Or for something more deadly …

  Tarnowski snapped open the catches on a green metal box and threw back the lid to reveal its contents.

  Hand grenades.

  He snatched one up and without hesitation yanked out the pin and let the spring-loaded spoon ping free. “One, two …” He tossed the grenade through the broken window. “Eat that, you fuck!”

  Eddie glimpsed something small and dark bounce along the ice behind the four-by-four. He knew instantly what it was, and ducked as he swerved—

  The grenade exploded, scattering shrapnel in all directions and ripping a hole through the ice, broken chunks flying into the air amid a burst of spray. Steel fragments clacked against the icerunner’s bodywork, but did no more than scratch the paint; he was beyond the explosive’s lethal range.

  He was not beyond the range of its secondary effects, though. A dark lightning bolt lanced through the ice directly ahead with a series of gunshot snaps, water gushing through the crack as his vehicle’s weight caused the frozen slab under it to tip downward …

  Eddie mashed the throttle, the icerunner surging forward—and riding over the newly formed step with a tooth-rattling bang.

  “Jesus!” he yelped as he fought to keep control. The impact had damaged the icerunner’s front skid, the steering now worryingly slack. He wrestled it back into line and angled after the Volvo. The four-by-four was coming up to the river’s sharp bend, swinging wide to take the apex at speed. The mercenary rummaged in the cargo area for another grenade. Eddie recovered his Wildey, hesitating as he checked that Nina still had her head down, and fired.

  This time, he didn’t even manage to hit the SUV, the rough ride throwing off his aim. A bullet wasted—and only two left.

  Tarnowski flicked his arm. Another dark spheroid hit the ice—

  The grenade detonated an instant after impact, blasting a second hole in the frozen surface. The results this time were more severe, cracks racing outward to meet up with the fractures from the first explosion. The ice sheet splintered, no longer a solid expanse but a broken mess of crazy paving.

  Eddie saw the danger spreading across his path and tried to change course. The icerunner was slow to respond, and when it finally turned, one of the outriggers lurched upward again. With a panicked grimace, he leaned out of the cockpit to counter balance it. The wayward skid slammed back down onto the ice.

  A third grenade—and the whole ice sheet shattered and churned in the Volvo’s wake as it rounded the bend, splitting the frozen river from shore to shore.

  Eddie was about a hundred yards behind the four-by-four. He knew at once that the icerunner would never make it across the broken surface without plunging into the freezing water below. But it wasn’t designed to travel over the rock-strewn riverbank either. He couldn’t continue the pursuit.

  Unless—

  He remembered the tight bend from the journey upriver. It was practically a hairpin, doubling back on itself on either side of a low ridge.

  A ridge covered in deep snow.

  He looked up at it. There was a gap in the trees—maybe just wide enough for the icerunner to fit through …

  “Oh, what the bloody hell am I doing?” he moaned as some subconscious part of his mind made a snap decision and jerked the steering wheel. The icerunner slewed around, aiming for the ridge. He mashed the throttle pedal down, the bloodstained propeller’s rasp almost deafening.

  Off the ice—and the vehicle jolted savagely as the runners barked over stones on the shore. It hit the slope, hurtling up toward the trees—

  The gap wasn’t wide enough.

  “Shiiiit!” Eddie wailed, but it was too late to stop.

  Both outriggers sheared off as they hit the conifers’ trunks. The icerunner sailed over the top of the little ridge as if leaping from a ski jump, then plunged back down on the far side. He glimpsed the four-by-four approaching from the right, but all he could do was cling on for dear life …

  The icerunner smacked down on the frozen river. The front skid collapsed, dropping the vehicle onto its belly—and the propeller, now with nothing holding it above the ground, carved through the ice behind the skidding wreck.

  “Whoa!” yelled Wake as he saw the channel being sliced across his path. He stamped on the brake. The SUV juddered, its four rubber treads rasping over the ice. Nina and Tarnowski were both thrown forward.

  The Volvo slithered toward the line of black water … then stopped, its front tracks halfway over the ragged edge.

  Eddie fought to hold himself in the cockpit, arms and legs braced against its sides as the battered icerunner started to roll over—

  The blades tore away from the propeller’s hub. What was left of the vehicle dropped back upright with a crash and ground to a halt.

  He let out a relieved breath, then scrambled from the cockpit onto the ice. The propeller had gouged an almost perfectly straight line about four feet wide across the river.

  The SUV sat precariously right on the edge of the ice.

  Nina raised her head. She wasn’t sure what had just happened, but she’d seen something flash in front of the SUV before Wake jammed on the brakes in panic. The Volvo had now stopped—

  The door!

  She grabbed for the handle with her bound hands—only for Tarnowski to grab her by the hair. “Get back here!”

  Wake whistled in relief, surveying the lapping water beneath his vehicle’s nose. “Holy shit, that was clo—”

  One side of his skull exploded outward as a .45 Winchester Magnum bullet blasted through it.

  Eddie brought the smoking Wildey around to target the mercenary in the rear seat as the XC90’s dead driver slumped against the steering wheel. Only one bullet left, but that was all he needed to rescue Nina—

  Ice cracked, a broad chunk beneath the SUV’s front tracks splintering away from the rest of the surface … and the four-by-four’s front end plunged into the water, the weight of the engine dragging the entire vehicle down into the frigid river.

  Nina and Tarnowski fell against the front seats as the SUV pitched downward into the icy water—which then surged into the four-by-four through its broken windows. The cold was like a punch to her heart. Her thick clothing did nothing to hold back the paralyzing chill. In a moment the river had completely swallowed her, the XC90 dropping toward its bed.

  Panic rose—but she fought through it. She had been in a similar situation before. She forced her limbs to move, pushing herself upward. The back window was broken; she could squeeze through it and swim to the surface—

  The SUV shook, a muffled, booming crunch echoing beneath her. It had hit the bottom of the river. Loose items from the rear bed cascaded past her in slow motion, a surreal hail of guns and grenades and survival gear. Then the world began to tilt as the Volvo lazily toppled onto its roof.

  Bubbles of trapped air from the engine compartment roiled past her, the water darkening as blood from Wake’s gaping head wound swirled through the froth. The inverted four-by-four landed with a muted metallic moan, roof pillars bending under its weight. One of the surviving windows shattered.

  Nina was head down, the rear seat now a barrier. With Tarnowski still beside her, there was only one way she could go. She pulled herself toward the open side window—

  A hand clamped around her ankle.

  The mercenary had realized there was only one easy escape route from the overturned vehicle, and was not going to let his prisoner out first. He dragged her back, driving an elbow into her side as he squirmed past. The blow forced a gulp of air from her mouth, and she unwillingly swallowed cold water, almost choking.

  She fought back, slashing at his face, but in the confined space and with her hands cuffed, she couldn’t put enough force into the strike. Tarnowski still flinched as her fingernails clawed at his eyes, though—and in retalia
tion swung his fist at her head.

  Even slowed by the water, the blow hurt. More air escaped her lungs as she was knocked against the front seats. Panic returned as she felt a growing tightness around her chest—not from the cold, but from lack of oxygen.

  The mercenary pulled himself headfirst through the window frame. Nina turned to the other door, but while it had buckled, the glass was still somehow in place despite several large cracks. There wasn’t enough room for her to squeeze under the inverted seats ahead or behind, and now Tarnowski was blocking the only exit.

  She was trapped.

  Eddie! her mind cried. The very first time they had met, he had dived into a river to pull her from another sinking car.

  But he wasn’t here to help her now.

  So what would he do?

  She spotted the dark shape of a P90 against the pale roof lining beneath her. Snatching it up, Nina jammed the muzzle against the glass—and pulled the trigger.

  The boom of the gunshot underwater felt as if someone had struck a huge bell right beside her head. The effect on the gun was even more drastic. With its powder charge sealed inside the cartridge, the bullet fired as normal—but instantly hit the water blocking the barrel, the massive overpressure rupturing the firing chamber and tearing the weapon apart.

  It was enough.

  The bullet traveled only a few feet before water resistance stopped it, but it still shattered the window. Millions of tiny cubes of safety glass sprayed out into the river, glinting in the ghostly blue-green light coming through the ice above.

  Hand stinging from the shock wave, Nina dropped the ruined gun and dragged herself to the new exit. Tarnowski delivered a couple of parting kicks as he squeezed out the other window and headed for the surface. She struggled not to cry out, desperate to retain what little remaining air she had.