The Sacred Vault nwaec-6

by Andy McDermott

  The Wildey cracked against his temple. He collapsed.

  Eddie shoved the empty Wildey into his jacket, then collected the two men’s guns, Heckler and Koch USPs. ‘Nina, take this,’ he said, holding out the first guard’s weapon.

  She accepted the USP, checking the passage ahead. The goats had disappeared round another corner. ‘Looks clear.’

  ‘There’s bound to be more of ’em, so stay behind me.’

  They cautiously moved down the corridor. A shadow looked from beyond another corner - Eddie raised his gun and peered round.

  The shadow was only a goat, standing in another bleak concrete chamber at an intersection, a storage area with crates and sacks of animal feed stacked high in recesses to each side. Other goats milled about, unwilling to go any further.

  Beyond them was an open metal door - and a flight of stairs leading up. It was where Eddie and Nina had been brought into the tiger preserve, the passage to the first bunker off to one side.

  Waving Nina back, he rounded the corner, gun aimed at the stairs. Some of the goats backed away from him - then stopped, unwilling to go further.

  Was someone hiding in the doorway? Was that what was scaring them?’

  Eddie moved past the stacks of supplies, quickly checking that nobody was lurking behind them before crouching for a better view up the stairs. No one in sight. ‘I think it’s clear.’

  Nina warily rounded the corner - then froze at a faint squeak of wood from the farthest stack of crates. ‘Eddie!’

  He looked round - but at her, not the sound. ‘What?’

  Singh leapt from atop the crates and slammed him to the ground.

  The goats scattered, one of them almost knocking Nina over as it barrelled past. By the time she recovered and brought up her gun, Eddie and Singh were grappling on the floor, too intertwined for her to shoot without risking hitting her husband.

  The Dalit was on top of Eddie, hand clenched round his gun arm. Eddie twisted his wrist and fired. The USP’s muzzle flame scorched the back of Singh’s neck, but the bullet missed him, cracking off the wall. Singh yelled, then lunged with rage-driven strength - and bit Eddie’s forearm.

  ‘Jesus Christ!’ Eddie roared as the sharpened teeth sank into his flesh. The pain was so intense that he couldn’t keep hold of the gun. It clanked across the floor. Singh grabbed for it, but couldn’t reach without releasing his animalistic hold on Eddie’s arm. He opened his mouth, blood running down his chin as he groped for the USP once more.

  Nina kicked it away just before his fingers closed on the butt. She jumped back as the clawing hand snatched at her legs. ‘Eddie, what do I do?’

  ‘Fucking shoot him!’

  ‘I’ll hit you!’

  Eddie struggled, managing to land a punch against Singh’s side. In response, the wiry maniac jerked up a knee at his groin. Eddie did his best to twist away, but was still caught a painful enough blow to make him flinch involuntarily - giving Singh an opening. He drove his fist and forearm down into a hammer blow on Eddie’s face, cracking his skull against the unyielding concrete floor.

  Eddie’s vision jarred, unnatural colours silently exploding over Singh’s face as the blood-dripping grin widened and dropped towards his throat. He willed Nina to jam her gun against the other man’s head and pull the trigger - but she was no longer there.

  He felt Singh’s breath on his neck, the razor teeth about to tear into his throat.

  19

  Singh suddenly felt breath on his neck.

  He looked round - and the tiger that had followed the scent of blood and the bleating of frightened animals into the bunker ripped its mighty fangs deep into the throat of its unsuspecting prey before he could even scream. The huge predator dragged the flailing Indian across the floor, slashing at his abdomen with its claws.

  Nina had run backwards in pure reflexive fear when she saw the tiger. Heart slamming like a pneumatic drill, she pulled the bloodied Eddie away from the carnage. ‘Come on, we gotta move.’

  ‘You’re not kidding!’ he said, seeing the tiger tear out Singh’s throat. The fearful symmetry of its face was marred by a gush of bright red blood. ‘Where’s my gun?’

  ‘Here.’ She retrieved his USP.

  He was about to fire it to scare away the tiger when someone shouted in Hindi from the stairs. ‘Cover your ears,’ he said, pulling Nina away from the exit, past the tiger and its quivering meal. The yellow eyes stared coldly at them with the promise that they would be next, but it didn’t move to attack.

  Nina put her hands to her head as Eddie raised the gun. He aimed - not at the tiger, but the floor behind it. The first booming gunshot sent stinging chips of concrete at its rear legs. It dropped Singh’s body, whirling to face them with a snarl of fury.

  Eddie fired again, and again, each shot blasting little craters out of the floor at the tiger’s feet. Overcome by the noise and the painful insect-bites of shrapnel, it turned and fled.

  Up the stairs.

  The shouts above quickly turned to screams. ‘Okay, sounds like they’re busy,’ said Eddie. ‘If anyone gets between you and the door, shoot ’em!’

  They hurried up the stairs. Someone fired a shot, only for a voice as enraged as the tiger to yell at them: Vanita. More screams, then a loud crash followed.

  Eddie reached the top to see that the tiger had pounced on one of the guards, knocking over a table. Other people were fleeing out of the main doors and up the stairs to the observation level. A guard cowering behind a workbench saw him and whipped up his gun, but a single shot from the USP sent him tumbling with a bloody hole in his forehead.

  Nina spotted Vanita halfway up the stairs, screeching orders for someone to get a tranquilliser gun. Her husband was higher up, watching the chaos with an unbelieving expression - which changed to fear as he saw Nina point her gun towards him. She didn’t know if she could have pulled the trigger, but the threat was enough; he turned and ran out of sight to the upper floor.

  ‘Nina!’ Eddie pointed to the doors. ‘Go!’ He took down another armed guard before they both burst out into the open, blinking in the bright sunlight. ‘Where now?’

  ‘We can drive out of here,’ said Nina. She ran to a nearby golf cart.

  ‘In that?’

  ‘There’s a garage under the palace - we can get something faster.’ She climbed into the driving seat, Eddie jumping aboard behind her and pointing his gun back at the doors, although another scream from the building suggested that the tiger was still everyone’s biggest concern.

  Nina stamped the accelerator to the floor. The golf cart lurched away, electric motors whining as it powered up to its top speed of twenty miles an hour. ‘It’s not exactly a Ferrari, is it?’ Eddie complained.

  ‘It’s better than running. Just.’ She guided the cart down the road to the palace. Even at its less-than-scorching pace, it still covered the distance in just over a minute. The ramp to the garage was off to one side - but she swerved away from it, heading for one of the doors into the huge house itself.

  ‘Where are we going?’ Eddie demanded.

  ‘The Codex - we need to find it.’

  ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake!’

  ‘I know where it is,’ she insisted, stopping and jumping from the cart. With a noise of frustration, Eddie ran ahead, kicking open the door and darting through with his gun raised.

  The hallway was clear. They hurried inside. ‘Where’re we going?’

  ‘The infotarium.’

  ‘The what?’

  ‘Khoil’s name, not mine.’ They reached the high-tech room, where Nina held back again as Eddie burst in, confirming that nobody was inside before nodding for her to enter.

  The lights were low, the sphere of screens displaying stylised clouds. Nina ran to the desk where her hand had been scanned, seeing the Codex in its open case. She slammed it shut and picked it up. ‘Okay, got it.’

  She turned to leave, but Eddie’s attention was caught by another piece of equipment beside the laser scanne
r. A rapid prototyper . . . with something in the tank. He snatched it out, finding that unlike the silicone liquid he had used in New York, the medium this time was extremely fine grains of plastic. ‘This looks familiar.’

  Nina grabbed it from him. ‘It’s from the Codex’s cover - the key! He’s made a copy of the key!’ One side of the thick and surprisingly heavy circular object bore the faces of the five Hindu goddesses, their husband Shiva at the centre. She opened the Codex case and shoved it in, slotting it into the impression in the orichalcum cover before snapping the case shut again. ‘We’ve got to delete the pattern so he can’t make another—’

  ‘No, we don’t,’ Eddie countered at the sound of pounding feet outside. ‘What we do need is to get out of here before we get killed!’

  The footsteps came closer. Eddie brought up his pistol—

  A man bearing an MP5 sub-machine gun rushed into the room - and took two shots to his chest. Eddie ran to him, shoving the USP into a pocket and picking up the MP5, then glanced at the display cabinet containing Khoil’s first computer. ‘A Spectrum, eh?’ He smashed the glass with the gun’s stock, making Nina jump, then did the same to the little computer inside it.

  ‘What was that for?’ she gasped, startled by the petty vandalism.

  He grinned. ‘I was a Commodore 64 kid. Now where’s this garage?’

  They ran from the infotarium, Nina directing them to the elevator. Another guard charged round a corner ahead - and took a burst from the MP5 across his chest. Shouts echoed behind them; more people were coming.

  A short side passage led to the elevator. Nina pushed the call button, but Eddie booted open the door beside it and waved for her to go down the stairs. She took them two at a time, the heavy case banging against her legs, and emerged in the basement.

  Eddie arrived a second later, eyes widening in admiration as he took in the gleaming cars. ‘Wow. This lot’s nearly as good as Kari Frost’s collection.’

  Nina was in no mood for comparisons between maniacal billionaires past and present. ‘All I care about is: does he have anything fast?’

  ‘Oh, yeah.’ He indicated a two-tone slate and charcoal-grey hunk of sculpted, purposeful curves - the Bugatti Veyron. ‘Fastest production car ever built. Well, except for one by some little American company—’

  ‘We don’t need the Guinness World Records, just start it!’

  A glass-fronted cabinet near the elevator contained numerous keys, each with the fob displaying the manufacturer’s logo. Eddie searched for the distinctive ‘EB’ of Bugatti, then smashed the glass with the MP5 and snatched out the keys. He tossed them to Nina. ‘Your turn to drive.’

  ‘Me? But—’

  ‘Unless you want to shoot.’

  ‘I’ll drive,’ said Nina quickly, running to the Veyron. She threw the gun and case inside and lowered herself into the low-slung, luxurious interior as Eddie rounded the supercar, the MP5 raised.

  A chime as the elevator arrived—

  Eddie fired before the doors had even fully opened, a guard thrashing backwards into the confined cabin. He glimpsed Tandon and released another burst, but the Indian squeezed himself flat against the side wall. For a moment Eddie considered running across to finish him off, but then the Veyron started with a growl from its massive sixteen-cylinder engine. He swung into the car. ‘Go!’

  Smoke belched from the screaming tyres as Nina pressed the accelerator. ‘What the hell’s with this gearstick?’ she cried, trying unsuccessfully to shift into second gear.

  ‘It’s a sequential - push it forward to change up!’ Eddie leaned out of the door, seeing Tandon running for cover behind the McLaren. He fired another burst - just as Nina figured out the gears and upshifted. The car leapt forward, throwing off his aim. The McLaren’s windscreen shattered as Tandon dived behind it. Eddie cursed and pulled himself inside the Veyron, lowering his window as the supercar shot towards the ramp.

  Nina kept accelerating, the engine note thunderous in the underground space. There was a horrible crunch as the Bugatti’s front air dam scraped the foot of the ramp, then they powered towards the square of daylight ahead—

  One of the Range Rovers skidded to a halt at the entrance, broadside on to block their escape.

  Nina fought her instinct to brake, instead jamming the accelerator all the way down and bracing herself . . .

  The Veyron reached the top of the ramp - and went airborne. It smashed into the Range Rover at window height, slicing off the 4x4’s roof in an explosion of glass. The driver ducked just quickly enough to avoid decapitation, the supercar’s underside clearing his head by an inch as it arced over him and smashed back down to earth.

  Airbags fired, punching Eddie and Nina back into their seats. Dazed, Nina tried to straighten out, and found that the Bugatti wouldn’t be breaking any more speed records: the suspension was wrecked, one of the rear wheels loose and bashing against the bodywork. Despite the damage, she still managed to wrestle the car towards the gate.

  Eddie sat up, raising his gun - and seeing a potential target. Mahajan and another man were driving a golf cart towards the palace, the Khoils on the rear seats. He fired at them. Khoil and Vanita flung themselves out of the cart as bullets caught the guard and sent him flailing to the ground. Mahajan ducked and swerved the little vehicle to put it between the gunman and his employers.

  Nina headed for the long drive - only to see a second Range Rover brake to block it. With its low ground clearance and damaged suspension, the Veyron had no chance of negotiating the grass verges to get round it. She instead made a hard turn, bringing the supercar on to the runway.

  Eddie glanced back at the golf cart. Vanita had snatched up the fallen guard’s MP5 and was pointing it at the Veyron. ‘Down!’ he shouted as she opened fire. Bullets puckered the Bugatti’s bodywork, but none reached the cabin; the Veyron’s engine was mounted behind the seats, the huge block taking the clanging impacts. There was a loud hiss and a gush of steam as one of the radiators was punctured, adding to the wounded car’s woes.

  Nina skidded past the parked jet and the now-closed container holding the smaller aircraft, aiming along the length of the runway and slamming up through the gears. The Veyron had all-wheel drive; even with one of them crunching against the wheelarch the response was still frightening. In the mirror, the golf cart was suddenly reduced to a dot as the car blasted through the sixty mile per hour mark in barely four seconds, thundering on towards a hundred. ‘Jesus!’ she yelped.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ said Eddie, pushing himself upright. ‘I’m jealous that you’re driving now!’

  She was not as thrilled with the experience. The collapsed suspension was making the steering wheel judder like a jackhammer, even holding the car in a straight line becoming harder with each passing moment. Dashboard warning lights started flashing - the radiator was not all that had been damaged. The speedometer passed one hundred . . . then dropped back down. ‘I think this thing’ll need more than an oil change at its next service,’ she warned.

  Eddie looked back. The steam had been replaced by greasy smoke, swirling in the Veyron’s slipstream. The second Range Rover was now in pursuit.

  Ahead, even with the Veyron slowing, they were rapidly running out of runway. Beyond the poles of the landing lights at its far end, Nina could see the estate’s boundary wall. She brought the car into a sweeping, shuddering turn on to an access lane leading to the main drive. Only a short distance to the main gate, and freedom - if they could get through it.

  If they could get to it. The engine rasped alarmingly, the stench of burning oil filling the cabin. Even with her foot to the floor, their speed was still falling. Sixty miles an hour, fifty. Nina straightened out as they reached the road, seeing the gate ahead. Guards ran to block their path.

  Armed guards.

  ‘Go through them!’ Eddie shouted. ‘Crash the gate!’

  ‘There’s no power!’ Nina protested. Forty miles an hour and still slowing, even as she dropped through the gears in a de
sperate attempt to maintain speed. The vibration from the wrecked wheel was getting worse, the Veyron’s back end starting to weave. ‘We’re not gonna make it!’ Thirty . . .

  A huge metallic bang shook the car as the broken wheel finally sheared off its axle, tearing off the Veyron’s back quarter panel and bouncing down the drive. The already low-slung supercar’s ground clearance was reduced to zero as the unsupported body hit the road like an anchor. Grinding over the asphalt, it screeched to a stop.

  The guards ran towards them, guns raised—

  And whirled at the sound of another vehicle behind them.

  The barrier shattered as Kit crashed his car through it. One of the men was hit by a length of broken wood and bowled off his feet to smash through the guard hut’s window. The other two leapt out of the car’s path, bringing their guns to bear—

  Kit spun the steering wheel and yanked on the handbrake. The car fishtailed, its rear end swinging round and swatting away one of the guards with a thump of flesh against steel.

  The remaining man dived aside in the nick of time, rolling and bringing up his gun—

  Mac kicked open the passenger door. It hit the crouching guard just as he fired, knocking the gun downwards. A semicircle of red sprayed over the tarmac as the bullet hit the luckless man’s kneecap. He fell on his back, dropping the gun as he screamed and clutched the wound.

  Mac tossed the fallen weapon out of his reach, then waved to the occupants of the crippled Veyron. ‘Well, come on! We haven’t got all day!’

  20

  Kit lowered his cell phone, his normally sunny face somewhat clouded. ‘That . . . did not go well. But it could have been worse.’

  ‘What did your bosses say?’ Nina asked. ‘Are they going to arrest the Khoils? Or at least investigate them?’

  ‘Unfortunately, no. Not without more proof.’

  ‘But we’ve got proof,’ said Eddie, indicating the Talonor Codex. The golden book sat on a desk in Kit’s small but modern Delhi apartment, the Interpol officer having arranged a flight from Bangalore back to the capital on a government transport aircraft. ‘They had that thing in their bloody house. That’s got to be enough for Interpol to take action, surely?’