Kingdom of Darkness

by Andy McDermott

  She gestured towards the stairs. ‘Up there.’

  He nodded. ‘You will come with us.’

  The gunman yanked her to her feet and shoved her towards Banna and Assad, who had been corralled in the main aisle by their captors. Nina counted twelve men altogether, all armed with sub-machine guns and wearing webbing holding extra magazines. Some had other equipment too: more stun grenades, lethal hand grenades, even blocks of plastic explosive.

  She risked looking back for any sign of Eddie, or Macy. Nothing. At least two of the intruders had searched the area where he had been, so he must have found a hiding place . . .

  The gigantic man holding Assad – Walther, another of the escaped war criminals – regarded Nina with a hard expression. ‘Dr Wilde,’ he said, ‘take us to the statue of Bucephalus.’

  ‘Which one?’ she asked, playing for time. If their attackers could be delayed in the tomb, it would give Egyptian reinforcements a chance to respond. ‘There are several.’ She indicated a couple of the nearest examples.

  Rasche snorted – then lashed out with a gloved fist, knocking her to the floor. Banna flinched, while Assad stiffened in outrage. ‘Do not waste my time. You were given stolen plans of this operation; that you are here proves you know what we seek.’ Nina glared up at him, a hand to her cheek.

  ‘I – I am in charge of this dig,’ said Banna, voice pitched high with fear before he cleared his throat and managed to lower it. ‘If you want anything, speak to me. She is only an observer; she is no longer even a member of the IHA.’

  Nina saw Walther and Rasche exchange looks. Had they expected her to be an official part of the excavation? ‘Then you will take us to the statue of Bucephalus,’ said Rasche, pointing his gun at Banna. The young archaeologist shrank back. ‘The one in the burial chamber.’

  ‘Do as he asks,’ said Assad. ‘Nobody else needs to get hurt.’

  ‘Good. Now move.’ Rasche issued more orders, and five of his men started back towards the entrance. The rest pushed the three prisoners to the stairs.

  In the darkness at the other end of the chamber, the lid of a bronze chest opened slightly. Eddie peered through the gap, the start of a creak from the hinges deterring him from lifting it higher. ‘Bollocks!’ he whispered. ‘They’re taking Nina up to the coffin. Assad and Banna, too.’

  A strained squeak came from beneath him. ‘Eddie, your elbow’s right on my chest!’ Macy gasped.

  ‘It’s okay, you’ve got plenty of padding there.’

  ‘What? You asshole!’

  Eddie smiled faintly, but the brief levity vanished as he saw that some of the attackers were positioning themselves to guard the entrance. The nearest man was twenty feet from him. His hiding place was not in their direct line of sight, but he doubted he would be able to get out of the box without making a noise – and drawing their fire. Farther away, Nina and the others climbed the steps to the burial chamber. ‘Shit,’ he muttered.

  Macy squirmed beneath him. ‘What’s happening? Are Nina and the others okay?’

  ‘For now, but I doubt they’re going to let them go. And Bill and Dina are dead.’

  ‘Oh my God! They’re – they’ll kill us too!’

  ‘Stay calm,’ he told her, changing position to take as much of his weight off her as he could. ‘I won’t let that happen.’

  His assurance calmed her, a little. ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘Buggered if I know.’

  ‘Y-yeah, that helps.’

  ‘First things first. I need to figure out how to get out of this fucking box without them hearing me.’ He shifted until he was able to put his hand down beside her neck, then carefully levered himself up, raising the lid again until it began to creak.

  The guards hadn’t moved, watching the door – and Nina and the others were now out of sight.

  ‘There,’ said Banna as the intruders pushed the surviving archaeologists into the burial chamber. ‘There is the statue. Please, take it. We will not stop you.’

  Most of the torch beams turned to where he was pointing, but some explored other parts of the room. Walther whistled appreciatively as he shone his own light over a large golden vase decorated with multicoloured gemstones. The huge man made a suggestion, which drew chuckles from some of his companions.

  Rasche did not share their amusement. Nina guessed from his impatient reply that he was telling the others they were only there for the statue. The younger men responded to the rebuke by straightening and issuing apologies, but Walther was more relaxed, shaking his head in wry amusement. He spoke again, Nina understanding a few words: ‘Wir brauchen mehr Gold, Rasche.’ We need more gold, Rasche.

  Rasche spoke again, with more anger. Walther shrugged, but acquiesced. He crouched and clamped his massive hands around the sculpture, lifting it as easily as though it was a bag of sugar.

  ‘So you’ve got what you came for,’ said Nina, fear rising. Now that they had the statue, the Nazis had no reason to keep their prisoners alive. ‘What are you going to do with us?’

  Rasche did not respond at once, instead gazing at the desiccated figure inside the crystal coffin. ‘So this is Alexander . . .’

  ‘You are interested in the great king?’ asked Banna.

  Rasche shook his head. ‘Not I. But our Führer has a fascination with the man. Which is fortunate for us, as otherwise we would not—’ He caught himself, as if about to give away some secret. ‘It is a shame we cannot take the body. He would like to possess it, very much.’

  ‘Egypt will pay anything you ask to ensure the safety of Alexander’s remains,’ said Assad. ‘I am the senior archaeologist of the Ministry of State for Antiquities; if it is necessary, I will act as a hostage during negotiations.’

  ‘There will be no negotiations,’ Rasche said sharply. He nodded to Walther. Cradling the ceramic horse, the big man headed into the tunnel. The leader regarded the mummy once more, then made a silent decision. ‘Take them into the treasure room,’ he ordered.

  The other men shoved the prisoners back down the painted passage. ‘What are you doing?’ Nina demanded.

  ‘Our Führer would be . . . unhappy if anything happened to his hero,’ Rasche replied, a veneer of disdain telling her that he did not share his commander’s concerns. ‘So I will make sure that the burial chamber is preserved.’

  ‘By killing us outside it, right?’

  The German smiled, but there was nothing except cruelty behind it. ‘You are a clever woman, Dr Wilde.’

  They descended into the treasury and headed down the central aisle. Nina glanced around in growing fear, searching the shadows for her husband, but there was no sign of him. ‘Eddie, where are you?’ she whispered.

  Inside the metal chest, Eddie watched Nina and the others with growing desperation. The archaeologists’ expressions – Banna was close to tears – warned him that they didn’t expect to leave the room alive.

  He had to do something. But even if he got out of his hiding place without alerting the guards, he was still unarmed . . .

  The silhouette of a nearby treasure caught his eye as the procession passed behind it. That gave him a weapon, however impractical – if he could reach it.

  Rasche held up his hand. The group stopped, Walther putting down the statue. Macy felt Eddie’s muscles tighten. ‘What is it?’

  He watched helplessly as the three prisoners were pushed into a line. ‘They’re going to kill them . . .’

  ‘Wait!’ Nina pleaded as she was shoved between Assad and Banna. ‘You don’t have to do this. You’ve got what you came for – just take it and go!’

  None of the faces looking back at her showed any inclination towards mercy. Rasche could barely contain a rat-like smile of anticipation as he raised his gun.

  ‘Goodbye, Dr Wilde,’ he said – aiming at Nina’s heart.
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  ‘No!’ cried Assad, lunging forward – in front of Nina.

  The bullet ripped into his chest, the burst of blood almost aglow in the glare of the tactical light. The Egyptian fell to the floor. His eyes met Nina’s, trying to send her a last silent message . . . then they rolled back as life left his body.

  Banna stared in disbelief at his mentor, then wailed in shock and despair. Nina looked up – to see Rasche’s smoking gun still pointing at her.

  His finger tightened again—

  A crash from the darkness made him whirl.

  The gunshot’s echoes had not even faded before Eddie fought past his horror and threw open the chest to leap out and run for his weapon.

  It was a sword, over-ornate and gaudy, but beneath the hilt’s gold and jewels the two-foot curved blade was still honed. He snatched it up without breaking step as he rushed at the nearest Nazi.

  The man’s attention had been on his commander, his hearing momentarily overpowered by the gun’s blast – but now he caught a new sound from behind.

  He turned—

  Eddie slashed the sword at his throat with a two-handed swing. There was a flat chut of tearing flesh and a crack of bone – and the Nazi’s head tumbled off his shoulders with a gush of arterial spray. The nerveless body crashed on to a pile of treasure.

  The Englishman dropped his blade and grabbed the dead man’s gun. It was a SIG Sauer MPX-K, an ultra-compact sub-machine gun so new that it was the first time Eddie had seen one in person. Its sales were supposed to be restricted to military and law enforcement agencies, but he had no time to wonder how the raiders had obtained their sidearms.

  Instead, he used it.

  Another guard spun at the noise, only to take a three-round burst to his face. But the men in black were well trained, and fast. Even as the second Nazi fell, the others near the door were already diving behind pillars and larger relics.

  Eddie glanced at the group holding Nina and Banna as he too pulled back into shelter, switching off his weapon’s tac-light. Rasche shrieked orders, his men moving to face the new threat, then whipped around, gun raised to kill his two remaining prisoners—

  Another burst from the stolen MPX forced him to scurry back. ‘Nina, run!’ Eddie roared.

  Nina pulled Banna after her as Rasche ducked behind a column to avoid her husband’s bullets. ‘Come on!’ she yelled. The young Egyptian was in a helpless daze. She practically had to drag him around a pillar.

  The German fired again – but hit only stone. He cursed, then shouted more commands to his men.

  Eddie peeked around the column. He now had an advantage, however small: the intruders’ positions were being given away by their tactical lights, while he was concealed in the shadows. There were three men near the door, the rest spread out in the centre of the chamber.

  He spotted something else in the sweep of a tac-light: the statue of Bucephalus where the giant had left it in the aisle. That was what the attackers had come for – so if it were taken away from them, they might leave . . .

  He switched the MPX’s selector to single-shot – and fired.

  A thumb-sized chunk of the horse’s mane shattered into splinters. He adjusted his aim to compensate for the stubby weapon’s recoil and locked on to the statue’s head. Take out the ancient text inscribed on its reins, and the bad guys had nothing—

  Rasche had reached the same conclusion. Another bellowed order – and the chamber lit up with multiple muzzle flashes as the intruders opened fire on the Englishman.

  ‘Shit!’ Eddie gasped, jerking back as shrapnel spat past. Bullets clanged off gold and bronze, pottery exploding in the darkness. He heard Macy shriek as a ricochet whined off the bronze chest.

  The light beams shifted. His attackers were heading for the door. He risked a glance down the length of the chamber, seeing before another onslaught drove him back that Nina and Banna had found cover – but also that Walther had grabbed the statue once more and was hurrying towards the exit.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Nina asked the hyperventilating Banna. ‘Dr Banna!’

  He struggled to focus on her, jabbering in panicked Arabic before slowing and switching to English. ‘I, I am okay, yes. But Ismail and the others, they – they killed them!’

  ‘We’re still not safe,’ she warned. ‘When I tell you, run for that pillar – the farther we are from them, the better our chances.’ She indicated the next closest column to the burial chamber, then peered back towards Rasche.

  He and the rest of the main group were moving away from her. A moment of relief – which was short-lived as she realised they were keeping Eddie pinned down while Walther escaped with the sculpture of Bucephalus. ‘Run, now!’ she shouted over the echoing gunfire. Banna didn’t move. ‘Dammit, go!’

  ‘I – I can’t!’ he gasped. ‘I don’t want to die!’

  She felt a flash of contempt for him – which was immediately replaced by guilt at her own arrogance. Her own reaction only a few years earlier would have been a similar terror. ‘Okay, then get down and stay out of sight,’ she said instead.

  Another look at the retreating Nazis. The younger men had formed a protective cordon around Walther and his precious cargo, backing towards the exit as they kept up their assault on Eddie’s position. Rasche shouted more orders, one of the group near the door taking something from his webbing.

  A yell of ‘Granaten!’ warned her what it was. The word was easy to translate.

  ‘Eddie!’ she cried. ‘They’ve got—’

  ‘Grenades? Fuck!’ Eddie yelped. NATO training exercises during his military career had taught him danger warnings in multiple languages. He looked for shelter, but the dancing shadows cast by the strobing muzzle flashes made it impossible to pick anything out amongst the visual confusion. ‘Macy, shut the lid and stay down!’

  He had no idea if she had heard him – and no time to warn her again. All he could do was run—

  Eddie burst out from his cover. Blazing guns swung after him, chunks of statues and spalls of gold exploding in his wake. But he also heard hard metallic clacks as two grenades hit the floor behind him.

  Something large and low to his right. He dived over it, rolling and pressing himself against its base—

  Both grenades detonated, a lethal blizzard of steel shards shredding the treasures around them. Sculptures toppled and smashed on the floor.

  Rasche looked out from behind a column as the echoes faded, seeing no movement except drifting smoke and dust. ‘Pull out!’ he ordered. ‘Protect the statue!’

  Walther was first to the door. The big man had to turn sideways to fit into the gap, making manoeuvring the statue through it tricky, but after a few seconds he managed it. The others slipped out of the treasury behind him. Rasche cast another glance back, gun raised, but nobody challenged him. A small, nasty smile, and he followed his men.

  Nina lowered her hands from her ears. Even halfway across the large room and with solid stone at her back, the explosions had still knocked her down.

  The chamber was now completely dark. ‘Eddie?’ she called, before hearing someone close by. ‘Banna, are you okay?’

  ‘My ears . . .’ said the Egyptian, voice quavering.

  ‘Did you get hit?’

  ‘No, I – I do not think so, but my ears, they hurt so much . . .’

  ‘Stay still for now.’ She got shakily to her feet. ‘Eddie!’

  No reply. A new fear rose within her. ‘Eddie, can you hear me?’

  A metallic clang from the blackness. ‘Nina, is that you?’ came a female voice.

  ‘Macy! Are you okay? Where’s Eddie?’

  ‘I dunno, I’m not even sure where I am. Hold on, I’ve got a light . . .’ A corner of the room lit up as Macy surveyed her surroundings. ‘Holy crap! They’ve blown the hell out of the
place!’

  ‘Just find Eddie!’ Nina said, picking her way towards her friend. Shrapnel crunched underfoot. She found one of the abandoned lanterns in the wash from Macy’s own light and switched it on. ‘Come on, Eddie, I know you’re here somewhere, you’ve got to be . . .’

  A moan came from the shadows. ‘Over here!’ Macy shouted. ‘I see him, he’s here!’

  Nina went towards her, rounding a heavy marble bench to find Eddie sprawled against it. Blood stood out on the dusty floor around his head. Frightened, she touched his neck, searching for a pulse. ‘Eddie, wake up. Please . . .’

  ‘Oh God,’ Macy whispered. ‘Is he . . .’

  ‘Am I what?’ came a Yorkshire-accented grumble.

  The younger woman let out a sigh of relief. ‘Okay, not dead, then!’

  ‘No, I’m not dead, but it fucking feels like it. Jesus Christ, my head hurts!’

  ‘You’ve been cut,’ Nina warned him. A crooked gash had been sliced into his scalp.

  ‘Yeah, grenade frag, probably,’ he said, face scrunching as he sat up. ‘Ow! Shit, it’s got my arm too.’

  Macy brought her own light closer. ‘There’s a big rip in your sleeve – I can see blood underneath.’

  His frown deepened. ‘Buggeration. This was a new jacket!’

  ‘This is new?’ She regarded the battered black leather dubiously. ‘But it looks like it’s been dragged under a bus.’

  Nina gave her a sardonic smile. ‘Yeah, don’t get me started. We’ve had discussions about his taste in distressed clothing before. Can you stand?’

  ‘Yeah.’ He picked up his gun and rose. ‘Got some new bruises, but I’ll survive. Where’s Banna?’

  Nina pointed. ‘Over there. I think he’s okay, just shaken up.’

  ‘I’m guessing from the way we’re not being shot at any more that the bad guys have gone.’

  ‘Yeah, and they took the statue.’

  He eyed her. ‘You sound like you’re pissed off about that.’