Return to Atlantis_A Novel

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Return to Atlantis_A Novel Page 37

by Andy McDermott


  “You know, I think we should do that. Not saying I don’t trust you, but, well, I don’t trust you.”

  “In that case, yes, you should destroy them. As a sign that you can trust me.”

  Eddie gave him a dubious look as he crossed the room to pick up the figurines, half-expecting the guns to be turned on him. But Glas’s men remained focused on their prisoners. The tape holding the third statue together had come off and the two pieces separated; he shouldered his own MP7 so he could gather up all the segments.

  “I think we should destroy them away from here,” said Nina, retrieving the case, “so nobody can find the remains. Hopefully no one else outside this room knows what the statues can be used for, but better safe than sorry.”

  “Let’s hope,” said Eddie. He dropped the figures into the case. “Okay, Dad, let’s go.”

  “With pleasure,” said Larry.

  The trio started for the exit, but Sophia’s “Oh, before you go …” stopped them. She leaned over the back of Glas’s wheelchair and whispered into his ear.

  Glas listened to her with growing puzzlement. “I don’t understand.”

  “No,” she said, her black-gloved right hand reaching into her furs. “You never did.” A steely edge entered her voice. “Which was the problem.”

  She fired the Glock into his back.

  An exit wound burst open in Glas’s stomach, blood and fluids splattering the shocked Warden.

  In the kitchen, Amsel looked around sharply at the sound of a gunshot. The hotel was supposed to be secure, and everyone on the team was using silenced weapons—something had gone wrong.

  He glanced back at the storeroom to check the prisoners—

  The waiter was aiming a gun at him.

  The window shattered as he fired. The bullet struck Amsel’s temple, blasting away a chunk of skin and bone and brain.

  Glas’s men broke through their stunned horror and whirled to shoot Sophia—

  Gunfire filled the room—but not from the commandos’ MP7s. Instead it came from beneath the thin cloths covering the catering trolleys by the dumbwaiter, and high in the shadows of the rafters. The men were cut down by a storm of bullets from all angles, mottled red starbursts exploding over the whites of their camouflage gear.

  Eddie’s training had kicked in automatically when Sophia fired. He shoved Nina and Larry down between two members of the Group, diving on top to shield them. The assault ceased. He lifted his head, feeling the weight of the MP7 against his side … but knew raising it would be suicide.

  He now understood Stikes’s confidence. The entire meeting had been a trap, intended to draw Glas out of hiding—with Sophia’s collaboration both encouraging the Dane to take the bait and keeping the mercenary leader informed of his actions. The men guarding the hotel’s exterior had been mere decoys, sacrificial bait; those concealed in the Alpine Lounge were the real defenders, keeping out of sight until they received a signal to act.

  Stikes stood. “Excellent work, everyone,” he told his forces as they emerged from hiding, climbing out from under the trolleys and descending on lines from the overhead beams. All dressed entirely in black, they also wore helmets with mirrored visors to protect them from the effects of the stun grenades. “Well done.”

  Face quivering with fright and fury, Warden rounded on him. “What did you do? What the fuck just happened?” A glob of spittle flew from his lips with the profanity, landing on Stikes’s chest.

  The Englishman looked down at it with mild distaste before wiping it away. “I just removed all the obstacles to the Group’s plan.”

  “But, but …” He jabbed a finger at Gorchakov’s corpse. “We could all have been killed! Why didn’t you tell us? You risked all our lives!”

  “If I had told you,” said Stikes, as if explaining to a child, “you would all have been too confident, which would have given away the trap. Your fear had to be genuine to bring Glas here. You must admit, it worked.”

  “But Anisim is dead!” protested Brannigan.

  “If he hadn’t gone for the gun, he would have survived. It’s regrettable, but I’m afraid it was his own fault. And besides,” he said loudly, raising a hand to overcome the vocal objections from around the table, “you have emergency measures to ensure that if a member dies, their interests remain under the Group’s control. I suggest you activate them as soon as possible.”

  “We should have you fired,” growled Meerkrieger. “No, we should have you shot!”

  “I’m surprised at your attitude,” said Stikes smugly. He gestured to a pair of his men, who roughly pulled Eddie, Nina, and Larry to their feet, confiscating the MP7 and the case. “We have the statues, we have Dr. Wilde … and Glas has been eliminated as a threat.”

  “Not quite yet,” said Sophia. Glas was writhing in his chair, both hands squeezed against his stomach wound in a futile attempt to stem the bleeding. He tried to speak, blood bubbling in his mouth. “I’m sorry, Harald, I didn’t quite catch that. A little louder, please?”

  “Why?” gasped Glas. “Why did you … do it? I saved you—I protected you!”

  “You used me!” she snapped, striding around his wheelchair to stand before him. “You’d wanted me for years, and then you finally had me—as your slave. Your harem girl.”

  “No, that … wasn’t—”

  “Oh, you made it very clear what would happen if I didn’t do exactly as I was told. I could either obey you or go back to prison—or worse.”

  Despite the pain, Glas managed to shake his head. “No, that’s … not true. I—I loved you!”

  “Love?” she said scathingly. “You loved me in exactly the same way that you loved those coins and stamps in your precious collection! I was just one item among all the rest to you, something to make other people jealous because they couldn’t own it.” She bared her perfect white teeth. “Well, nobody owns me, and nobody uses me. Good-bye, Harald!”

  “No, Sophia—”

  She fired six rapid shots into Glas’s chest. The crippled billionaire flailed with each impact, then slumped over an armrest, twitching.

  The shocked silence in the room was finally broken by Nina. “That’s got to bump the list up to fifty percent.”

  Warden clenched his hands together to stop them from trembling. “Stikes, I … I assume this was something else you chose not to tell us?”

  “Of course,” Stikes replied. “The only reason Sophia went on the run with Glas was that she had no choice. But she contacted me in secret whenever she had the opportunity, and together we set all of this up.”

  “And you trust her?” There was disbelief in his voice.

  “Completely. You see, Sophia and I weren’t merely working together. We have a more … intimate relationship.” He smirked at Sophia, who in return kissed him.

  Eddie made a gagging noise. “For God’s sake! The two people I hate most in the world, and they’re shagging each other? That’s fucking disgusting.”

  Nina was equally appalled by the revelation. “That’s about as revolting a picture as Genghis Khan getting it on with … with Margaret Thatcher!”

  “You’ve just seen a man murdered,” said Larry, voice shaky, “and this is what makes you both want to throw up?”

  Warden ignored them. “Just because you’re … involved, that doesn’t mean she’s reliable,” he told Stikes. “We all know her reputation. She acts solely for her own interests, not anyone else’s.”

  “In this case, Sophia’s interests and the Group’s are perfectly aligned,” Stikes responded. “She’s actually a very firm believer in the plan.”

  “Absolutely,” said Sophia, smiling. “There are those who deserve simply by their superior nature to rule, and then there are …” She turned her gaze to Eddie. “The little people.”

  “Oh, fuck off,” he replied. “Just ’cause you think you’re better than everybody else doesn’t mean you actually are. You’re a stuck-up, selfish bitch with a superiority complex. Who can’t play the low notes on a pia
no anymore.”

  Oddly, it was the last silly insult that erased her smile.

  She clenched her left hand into a partial fist, the two prosthetic fingers jutting stiffly from it. “You know, Eddie, so many of the bad things in my life are directly attributable to you. I think it’s high time I paid you back for them.”

  “Being married to you was like punishment in advance, so we’re square.”

  “Ha ha,” she said, scathing enough to strip paint. She advanced on him, raising the gun. “I’ve been looking forward to this for a very long time.”

  “Just a moment, Sophia,” said Stikes. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to kill Chase.” A malevolent smile. “For old times’ sake.”

  She glowered at him. “Excuse me, Alexander? I think I have the greater right.”

  “I had to serve with him.”

  “I had to sleep with him.”

  “Anyone else want to join in?” Eddie asked of the room—using the opportunity to assess his chances of either fleeing or grabbing a weapon. Neither option seemed likely to succeed. None of Stikes’s men was close enough for him to reach without being shot down, and the exits were even farther away.

  The doors, at least. There might be another way out—if he could get to it …

  “All right, I think that trumps mine,” Stikes admitted. “Very well. Enjoy it.”

  “Oh, I absolutely will,” Sophia said. She brought up the Glock again—

  Nina moved to block her line of fire. “You’ll have to go through me.”

  The smile returned. “Two for the price of one? Excellent.”

  “No!” Warden barked. “We need her! Are you insane?”

  “You have to ask?” said Nina.

  Stikes issued orders to his men. “Move her away—and him as well,” he added, indicating Larry. “Careful, Chase. Don’t try anything foolish. We may need your wife, but we don’t need her conscious. Or even fully intact.”

  “Go on,” said Eddie to Nina and Larry as the mercenaries approached. “Both of you.”

  Nina clutched his hands. “Eddie, I’m not going to let this crazy bitch shoot you!”

  “I’ll be okay. Go on.”

  The guards pulled her away. “Eddie!”

  “I must admit, Eddie,” said Sophia, striding toward her ex-husband with the clack of stiletto heels, “if there’s one thing that I’m very slightly jealous of about your relationship with Nina—and there is only the one thing, and it is only very, very slightly—it’s that no matter what annoying and petty personal issues you have, when the chips are down you always support each other. If you’d had that kind of commitment to our marriage, who knows where we’d be now?”

  “I’m the one who didn’t have commitment?” said Eddie. “You were the one who was off like a shot to open your legs for the first rich guy who came along!”

  She narrowed her eyes. “That’s hardly an accurate description.”

  “No? You lost interest in me the moment your dad cut you off from his money, and you started trying to fuck your way back into high society. Sex for cash? You know, there’s a name for people like you.”

  Sophia pointed the gun at his face. “Don’t you dare call me that.”

  “Or what, you’ll shoot me? You’re going to do that anyway, so I might as well clear the air while I can. You’re fucking pathetic, Soph. Daddy’s little girl doesn’t get what she wants, so she takes it out on everyone else. Same old story, only now everyone else is literally everyone in the world!”

  Eddie could tell from her increasingly angered expression that the mentions of her father had touched a raw nerve. He pushed on with a sarcastic sneer. “Yeah, His Lordship was a great example of the superior classes, wasn’t he? Turns his back on his own daughter, and then loses everything he owns to people like this lot”—he waved a hand at the Group, all watching as if transfixed by a soap opera—“because he’s a chinless fucking idiot who thought having a title made him immune to how the real world works. The only thing you could be with a role model like that was a whor—”

  Lips tight with fury, she stepped closer and slapped him, hard. Eddie took the blow—

  And grabbed her gun hand, twisting her arm with savage force to pull her against him. He clamped his other hand around her throat, pushing the Glock’s muzzle up against her chin. She cried out in choked pain.

  “Okay, everyone freeze!” he shouted, backing up as the mercenaries aimed their weapons and looked to Stikes for instructions. “Anyone tries anything, she’ll get her fucking head blown off.”

  Warden recovered from his shock at the sudden turnaround of events, making a sound that could almost have been a relieved chuckle. “I doubt anyone here would have a problem with that.” His companions nodded in agreement.

  “I would,” Stikes said darkly. “Chase, let her go or I’ll have Nina shot.”

  “You’ll do no such damn thing,” Warden snapped.

  “In that case I’ll have your father shot.” Some of his men’s guns moved to cover Larry. “However great your daddy issues are, I’m sure you don’t want them resolved with a bullet, do you?”

  Eddie kept retreating, hauling Sophia with him. “You don’t know what I think of my dad.”

  “Edward!” protested Larry.

  “He doesn’t mean it,” Nina whispered to him. “I’m … pretty sure.”

  “Chase!” said Stikes, losing patience. “Let her go and give up. You can’t get away, so just accept the inevitable.”

  “Which is what?” said Eddie, briefly checking behind. He was now only a matter of feet from the catering trolleys.

  “That I was always going to win. I’ll even make it quick for you.”

  “Like when you made it quick for those women you murdered in Afghanistan?”

  “Enough! Last chance, Chase.”

  “Yeah, I know,” said Eddie. He dropped the gun … then shoved Sophia forcefully away as he threw himself backward—

  Into the dumbwaiter.

  THIRTY-ONE

  Sophia was still close enough to block the mercenaries’ line of fire. Eddie used the brief moment of protection to pull his legs inside the little elevator, curling into a ball—as his weight far overloaded its maximum capacity and sent the car plunging down the shaft.

  The impact of landing knocked the breath from his lungs. Dizzied, he kicked open the doors and scrambled out, dropping heavily to the tiled floor.

  Amsel’s corpse lay nearby, blood oozing from a gaping head wound. The storeroom was empty, its door open—as was the outside exit. Stikes must have planted one of his men in the kitchen staff. The hotel workers themselves had fled.

  He staggered upright. Amsel’s weapons—

  They were gone. Stikes’s man must have taken them.

  Which left him completely unarmed against a team of mercenaries out for his blood.

  “Get down to the kitchens!” Stikes bellowed to his men. “Now!” The black-clad mercs sprinted for the exit.

  Larry was still staring in astonishment at the empty hole in the wall. “He—he jumped down the dumbwaiter!”

  “Yeah, he does things like that,” said Nina, trying not to let her enemies detect her concern for her husband’s safety.

  Stikes pushed past them to Sophia. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes,” she replied, shaken—before turning to look at the hatch. Her shock became outrage. “You let him get away!”

  “We could have shot him, but I thought you wouldn’t appreciate having the bullets go through you first,” he said testily, before returning to the table. “Ladies, gentlemen, for your own safety I’d recommend that we leave the hotel until I get confirmation that Chase is dead.”

  “You want us to run away?” rasped Meerkrieger. “It sounds as if you’re scared of him.”

  “Hardly,” the Englishman said, stiffening. “It’s just that Chase has, shall we say, a talent for destruction. I wouldn’t put it past him to set the hotel on fire or cause a gas explosion in an attempt to escape.
” His audience’s expressions showed that they had very quickly come around to his way of thinking.

  “He won’t try to escape,” said Sophia. She pointed at Nina and Larry. “He’ll try to rescue them.”

  “Then we’d better make sure he can’t reach them. Or these.” He picked up the case containing the statues. “We’ll take the cable car down to the village. I’ll call ahead to have transport waiting for us.”

  The Group members stood. “Are you sure this is necessary?” Warden asked.

  “As long as Chase is running loose, I wouldn’t take any chances. This way, please.”

  “You heard him,” said Sophia, jabbing Nina with the Glock.

  Everyone hurried for the main exit, Nina and Larry exchanging worried glances.

  Eddie ran across the kitchen. He needed to get back upstairs to find Nina and his father, but the closest flight of steps, just outside the swing doors, would at any moment have mercenaries pounding down it. If he could get past it before they arrived, though, he might be able to find an alternative way up …

  He saw fast-moving shadows on the stairwell wall through the circular windows. “Arse!” he muttered as he changed direction for the exterior door.

  The swing doors crashed open behind him. Bullets blazed across the kitchen—but he was already pounding up the snow-covered steps outside. Whirling snowflakes pricked his eyes as he reached the top. Wherever he ran, the mercs would be able to follow his trail in the snow and pick him off—he had to buy himself some time.

  The bins—

  The nearest wheeled container was a few feet away. He grabbed the handles on its side. It shifted slightly, but refused to move from its spot.

  If it was chained to the others, he was screwed.

  He pulled harder—and with a crackle of ice from around its wheels it jolted away from its fellows. Eddie ran around it and pushed. Boots scraping against the slippery ground, he shoved it toward the stairwell. It was over half full, and the snow piled up on its lid wasn’t making it any lighter. “Come on, come on,” he gasped. “Come on, you smelly bastard—”

 

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