by Gabriel Hunt
“We’ve got to get the Star back,” she said, rubbing circulation back into her wrists.
“The only problem,” Gabriel said, “is that there’s a battlefield between us and wherever Grissom’s got it. Assuming he’s not lying facedown in the mud.” We should be so lucky. Gabriel crossed to the tent flap, stepping over the dead guard, and pulled it back an inch to peer out. It was chaos outside, with Grissom’s men running back and forth, shouting and firing their weapons. Everywhere, the feathered ends of arrows stuck up out of the ground like tire spikes. One of Grissom’s men ran past, pistol in hand, shooting at a target Gabriel couldn’t see, and then an arrow hit him in the back. The man fell forward, his body skidding to a halt in the mud. The arrow had come from the direction of the jungle. Aside from the one cult member he’d seen running past the tent, it looked like the others were hanging back and trying to pick off Grissom’s men from the trees. There was no sign of Grissom himself, or of Julian.
“I can’t see much from here,” he said. “We have to move, find a better vantage point. Someplace a little safer, too.”
Gabriel handed Grissom’s dagger to Noboru. “Here, take this.”
Noboru weighed it in his hand and nodded. “What about you?”
“I’ll find something.” Gabriel looked outside again. The chaos hadn’t abated. He saw a jeep full of Grissom’s men barreling toward them.
“When I say run, run,” Gabriel said. Joyce and Noboru nodded. He waited until the jeep was just before the tent, the gunmen in back firing into the trees, and then shouted, “Run!”
He threw open the tent flap and sprinted out into the open, using the passing jeep for cover. Joyce followed right behind him, then Noboru. Gabriel kept running, head down, pumping his legs as hard as he could to carry him toward a tent directly across the open center of the camp. Arrows hissed through the air toward them, one going by directly over his head and three more embedding themselves in the ground near his feet.
When he reached the other tent, he ducked around the corner. Joyce and Noboru dove for cover behind him, breathing hard.
“Where to now?” Joyce asked.
Gabriel peeked out. He had a better view of the scene from here. Dead bodies littered the ground, mostly Grissom’s men but also a few members of the Cult of Ulikummis, their white robes stained with mud and gore. Grissom’s remaining soldiers were running for the jeeps, squeezing off shots into the forest as they went. Arrows continued to fly from the trees, though not as many as before. Gabriel couldn’t make out the cultists’ positions in the trees. For men whose choice of camouflage was more suited to the Arctic, they did a hell of a job of blending in.
The jeeps pulled out and roared toward the tree line, the men standing in back exchanging their pistols for shotguns. He didn’t see Grissom or Julian in any of them. Had they already evacuated the camp?
No, Gabriel thought. Grissom wouldn’t. He was too stubborn and arrogant to alter his plans just because he suddenly found himself under siege. He’d still be in the camp somewhere, letting his henchmen fight for him while he…
While he what?
The Star. Grissom had gotten a portion of what he needed from Noboru and would be trying to use the Star and the map even now, in the middle of a pitched battle, to get as much information as possible before moving on. Gabriel looked around. At the far end of the camp, he spotted a tent with two gunmen posted outside. Everyone in Grissom’s army was fighting the cultists except those two. They were protecting something. Or someone.
“There,” he said, pointing.
“How will we get past the guards?” Joyce asked.
“I don’t know,” Gabriel said. “We’ll think of something.” He led them behind the row of tents, hoping the jungle beside them wasn’t filled with cultists waiting to unleash their arrows. He kept his head down and hurried, counting on the continuing gunfire to cloak the sound of their running footsteps. He stopped one tent short of their destination, motioned to the others to stay low, then peeked around the corner.
The guards. How to get past—
At that instant, an arrow flew out of the jungle and landed squarely in the chest of the guard on the left. He crumpled to the ground. The other guard turned and started shooting into the trees.
“Now,” Gabriel said.
While the guard’s back was turned, they ran toward the tent. Halfway there, Gabriel glanced back and spotted an arrow cutting through the air in a perfect arc right toward Joyce. He spun and tackled her around the knees, pulling her down into the mud. The arrow whizzed through the air where she’d been.
Unfortunately, their motion caught the surviving guard’s attention. His mouth fell open in surprise and he swung his pistol toward them. Noboru, still running, hurled the dagger. It spun end over end, its triple blade glinting in the sun before sinking with a meaty thock into the guard’s chest. The guard dropped his gun, tilted his head down to look at the ivory handle sticking out of his chest, and dropped to his knees. He tipped forward, landing in the dirt.
Gabriel helped Joyce stand up. Her hand felt small in his and he could feel it trembling. Together they ran toward the tent, staying low. He didn’t let go of her hand till they’d made it to the tent’s entrance. He was acutely aware of her gaze on him, those piercing blue eyes staring out at him from her mud-caked face.
“You saved my life back there,” she said. “Again.”
He bent to pick up one of the guards’ guns. Next to him, Noboru pulled the dagger out of the guard’s chest and wiped the blood on the corpse’s shirt. “Easy,” Gabriel whispered. “Not a peanut in sight.”
Gabriel put a finger to his lips, then slid the muzzle of the guard’s pistol through the tent flap and nudged it aside an inch.
Inside, a half dozen chairs and a pair of folding tables had been pushed to the side. Grissom stood in the empty center of the tent, looking down at something on the floor. It had to be the map. When Grissom shifted position, Gabriel saw he was holding the Star of Arnuwanda over the map with one hand and shining a flashlight through it with the other. So he’d figured out that much. Gabriel moved slightly for a better view of the tent’s interior. He saw Julian standing with his back to them. The grip of his Magnum was visible at the waistband of his pants. He had his hands up at chest height and it looked like he was writing something down. Coordinates of the second Eye? Just how far had they gotten?
There was no time to waste. Gabriel stepped through the flap and had his arm around Julian’s neck before he could turn around. The pen and paper he’d been holding fell to the floor. Gabriel pulled Julian’s Magnum from his belt, dropped it and kicked it behind him so it slid under the tables. “Remember when I said you better hope I never see you again?” he whispered in Julian’s ear. “I wasn’t kidding.” He dug the barrel of the guard’s gun into Julian’s ribs. Julian’s eyes widened.
Grissom spun around, dropping the flashlight but keeping a tight grip on the Star. His eyes darted toward a table by the wall, where their confiscated weapons lay: the two Colts, Noboru’s knife, even the flare gun from the jeep. Grissom made a break for the weapons, but Noboru, darting in, managed to get between him and the table. He raised the dagger. Grissom turned to run the other way and found Joyce blocking his path. She lifted the second guard’s gun.
Joyce held out her other hand palm up. “The Star,” she said.
Grissom looked over at Julian gasping for breath in Gabriel’s choke hold, then at Noboru, who had snatched up one of the Colt revolvers from the table and was pointing it at him. He swallowed hard and held out the Star. “This isn’t over,” he said.
Joyce reached out to take the Star. Grissom started coughing so hard he doubled over, his forearms on his knees. As Joyce bent to pull the Star out of his hand, Grissom swung it at her. The heavy metal disk connected with her stomach, and she went down, the gun skittering out of her grasp. But she managed to hold onto the Star. For an instant, Grissom looked like he was going to try to get it back from her, but sh
e rolled over, clutching it to her chest and cradling it beneath her. Noboru drew back the safety on his Colt and advanced on him. Grissom settled for snatching up the pistol at his feet and, shooting it blindly in Noboru’s direction, bolted through the tent flap. Ducking, Noboru fired off two shots that punched holes in the canvas but it was too late—Grissom was gone.
Joyce stood again, brushing dirt off the artifact in her hands. “It’s all right. Let him go. The Star’s the only thing that matters.”
“Not exactly,” Gabriel said. “Getting out of here alive matters, too.” Julian was still struggling in Gabriel’s choke hold. “Looks like your father left you all alone,” Gabriel said into Julian’s ear. “What do you suppose we should do with you? What would you do to us if our positions were reversed?”
Julian squirmed against his arm, but the hold was too tight. Gabriel started to squeeze, cutting off his air supply, and Julian clawed at him. Then Julian snapped his elbow back into Gabriel’s gut. Normally it would have been the sort of blow he could take easily—but the cuts on his abdomen turned it into a symphony of pain. Gabriel doubled over. But he held on tight, clamping down on Julian’s throat. The younger man struggled wildly, but Gabriel didn’t give an inch. After a minute, the struggles slowed and finally stopped.
“Is he…?” Joyce said
“Not to say I’m not tempted, but no,” Gabriel said. “Just unconscious.” He lowered Julian to the ground and tore the unconscious man’s collar open. He pulled the Death’s Head Key from around his neck. He hung it around his own. Then he took his Colt .45 and holster from the table and buckled it on while Noboru did the same with his knife and ankle sheath. Noboru also stuffed the flare gun into his belt. While they were doing this, Joyce was rifling through everything else on the tables, overturning boxes, opening document folders, and throwing them to the ground in frustration.
“What is it?” Noboru asked.
She bent over Julian’s unconscious body and patted the pockets of his cargo vest, then his pants.
“The jewel,” she said. “The Eye. It’s gone.”
“Grissom must have it on him,” Gabriel said. He looked outside. The battle was still raging, but there was no sign of Grissom. “We can’t go after him now. We need to get out of here.”
They exited the tent cautiously, headed toward Noboru’s jeep. Gabriel stayed low, his revolver in his fist, Noboru by his side, Joyce directly behind him. They reached the jeep without incident. Just as Noboru jumped into the driver’s seat, though, a muffled scream from behind Gabriel made him turn.
Another jeep had rolled up out of nowhere; there were three men inside. One of the three was leaning out and had snatched Joyce off her feet with an arm around her waist and the other clamped over her mouth. She was lifted, struggling and screaming, into the vehicle.
“Joyce!” Gabriel shouted. She still had the Star in her hands, and she tried to throw it to him, but the man holding her slapped her hands down. The driver stomped on the gas then and the jeep rocketed forward, vanishing into the distance even as Gabriel fruitlessly chased after it on foot. Borneo covered two hundred eighty-eight thousand square miles, with plenty of places to hide a struggling captive—or to bury one. If they didn’t catch the other jeep quickly, they would lose the Star and Joyce for good.
Chapter 11
Gabriel whirled around and saw Noboru, ten yards back, starting the jeep’s engine. Noboru pulled out, spun the jeep to face him and sped toward him. Arrows zipped over the jeep, banged off the hood. Gabriel ran toward it as it approached. He grabbed the side of the jeep as it skidded to a halt, pulled himself up onto the side bar and jumped over the door into the passenger seat.
Behind him and off to one side, a white-robed man emerged from the jungle and ran toward them, a long, curved sword swinging overhead in both hands. The mud didn’t seem to be slowing him down at all.
Noboru cranked the gearshift and stepped on the gas. “Hold on to something!” he shouted. Gabriel dropped back into his seat as the jeep picked up speed. The man darted into their path, running toward them as they accelerated. At the instant they ought to have hit him, he leapt lightly onto their front bumper, then from there onto the jeep’s hood, swinging the sword at Noboru’s head. Gabriel pulled the trigger on his Colt. The man flew backward from the impact. He landed in the mud several feet away and didn’t get up again.
Noboru spun the wheel, turning them back toward the path that led to the main road. Gunfire crackled around them as they sped past a last cluster of Grissom’s men shooting at the cultists in the trees. “What are they doing here?”
“They must have followed us,” Gabriel said. “But they can’t just be after us for taking Joyce away from them. It’s got to be the Star they want. Everybody’s after that damn thing.”
Noboru raced along the jungle path, leaving the camp behind, and turned onto the main road. It ran for at least a mile straight ahead, and in the distance they saw the other jeep barreling along it in the direction of Balikpapan. Noboru increased his speed, the two of them bouncing and jostling in their seats as the jeep raced over the unpaved road.
“Get right up next to them,” Gabriel shouted over the engine’s roar as they closed on the other jeep. He aimed his Colt again, then thought better of it. He didn’t want to risk hitting the driver. If they went off the road, Joyce could be killed in the crash.
Noboru narrowed the gap between the two vehicles, the jeep shuddering under the strain like it was about to fall apart.
As they drew closer, Gabriel saw Joyce and one of Grissom’s men, a big man with a close-cropped beard, struggling in the back. The man was trying to get the Star away from her, but she was clinging to it, spitting curses and kicking at him. The man swung at her with his free hand, clocking her in the side of the head and she cried out, but didn’t lose her grip on the Star.
Noboru pulled up beside the other jeep, matching its speed. Gabriel stood, the wind whipping his hair. He balanced himself against the roll bar and kept an eye on the space between the vehicles, knowing a single misstep would send him hurtling to the road below.
The bearded man punched Joyce again. This time she fell onto the backseat, finally releasing her grip on the Star; this sent the man reeling back too.
“Joyce!” Gabriel shouted. Her head popped up over the side of the jeep. He held out his arms. “Jump!”
“Not without the Star,” she shouted back.
The man in the passenger seat, a short, evil-looking fellow with a long scar down his cheek, reached for her, but she knocked his hands aside.
“You have to jump,” Gabriel shouted. Then, to Noboru, “Get us closer!”
Noboru brought them as close as he could without contacting the other car’s chassis. The other driver glared at him and stepped on the accelerator. Noboru fell behind for a moment, then pulled up alongside again. Joyce stood in the back of the jeep, staring with a look of terror at the road ripping by between them. Behind her, the bearded man got back on his feet, holding the Star. Tucking it under one arm, he reached for her with the other.
“Now,” Gabriel yelled.
Glancing back—could she really leave the Star in their hands?—Joyce took a deep breath, put one foot on the backseat and launched herself into the air. Noboru cursed, trying to keep the vehicle steady. Joyce cried out as she hurtled toward them and slammed into Gabriel, nearly knocking him over. With one arm around the roll bar for support, he wrapped the other around her to hold her steady. She breathed hard in his ear.
“The Star,” she said. “We can’t leave it with them.”
“We won’t,” Gabriel said. He let go of her. She dropped into the seatwell. In the other jeep, Grissom’s men were shouting at each other. Their vehicle turned suddenly, moving farther away, toward the edge of the road. The man in the front passenger seat leveled a handgun at them and fired. Bullets punched craters in the door and ricocheted off the roll bar inches from Gabriel’s head.
“Stay on them!” he shouted to
Noboru.
They swung closer again, and when the two jeeps were side by side once more Gabriel jumped across the divide. He landed on top of the bearded man in back, tackling him to the floor. The Star dropped from the man’s hand and rolled under the driver’s seat. Gabriel and the bearded man stood up at the same time, the bumps in the road as they raced along it threatening to knock them off their feet again.
The other man punched first, but Gabriel caught his fist in his hand and brought his knee up into the man’s gut. He doubled over, and Gabriel haymakered him on the back of the neck, driving him to the floor. The scar-faced man in the passenger seat stood up and climbed over his seat into the back of the jeep, brandishing his gun. Gabriel backhanded it out of his grip before he could fire. It clattered to the floor, landing between the front seats. The man punched Gabriel, stunning him for a moment and sending him reeling back. The scarred man swung at him again, but Gabriel jerked his head back, the man’s fist just missing his jaw. Gabriel’s own fist connected, though, knocking his opponent backwards. He collided with the driver’s back and the jeep swerved dangerously.
The bearded man rose from the floor. He’d retrieved the Star from under the driver’s seat.
Gabriel elbowed him in the face and grabbed the Star out of his hands.
Looking over, he saw that Noboru had kept pace, their jeep jouncing alongside the one he was in. Joyce had her hands cupped around her mouth and was shouting something at him, but he couldn’t make it out.
Gabriel stepped up on the side of the jeep and was about to jump back when the bearded man grabbed him from behind, his thick arm snaking around Gabriel’s neck. Now he knew what it had felt like for Julian: his windpipe was compressing, the oxygen flow to his brain cutting off. The man reached forward to snatch the Star back. Gabriel couldn’t let that happen.
He threw the Star. Tossed it flat and spinning like a metal frisbee and watched it sail toward Noboru’s jeep. Joyce stretched for it, snagging it out of the air.
