Age of Heroes (30 page)

TWENTY-THREE

Airspace above the eastern Mediterranean

T
HE
E
MBRAER
L
EGACY
650 tipped its wings and banked to starboard, veering away from the setting sun in a smooth arc. Holger Badenhorst, closing the cockpit door behind him, turned to face the cabin. With three of them dead and Corbett and Mayson invalided out, eleven Myrmidons remained. He cleared his throat and waited until he had their attention. The last of them to look his way was Roy Young, and there was death in the Englishman’s stare. If looks could kill...

Well, tough shit, my friend. Feel about me how you like, I have you by the balls and you know it.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said. “You’ll have noticed we have just made a significant course correction. We aren’t heading for the States any more. I’ve received new instructions from our employer. The American mission has been postponed. We’re going for someone different.”

“Where?” said Gunnvor Blomgren.

“Russia.”

“Shee-it,” said Travis Laffoon. “Russia?”

“You sound aggrieved, Laffoon,” said Hans Schutkeker, from three rows behind. “Have you ever been to Russia?”

“No, but I ain’t heard one damn good thing about the place. I was looking forward to stepping foot on US soil again, getting some decent down-home grub inside me. Russia? They got nothing there. No food, no money, no cars.”

“I think you will find it’s not as bad as that,” said Schutkeker.

“I think you’ll find I don’t give a rat’s ass about your opinion, Shitkicker.”

The German sprang from his. “All right, that’s it. I have had all I can stomach from you, you mouth-breathing moron.”

“Mouth-breathing moron? Oh, snap! I need some lotion for this
burn
.”

Schutkeker lumbered down the aisle, hands outstretched, and the Louisianan reared up to meet him.

Roy rose between them.

“Sit down,” he said, his voice soft. “Both of you. Sit back down right now.”

Both Laffoon and Schutkeker tried to shove past him to get at each other.

All at once Roy had both of them by the throat, his fingertips digging hard into their windpipes.

“Do as I say, or so help me I will throttle the life out of you.”

He looked left and right, holding each man’s gaze for several seconds.

He was not kidding. There was a dark and hideous glint in his eyes. The Myrmidons were all killers, but Roy Young, at that moment, was a stone-cold murderer.

“Hey, hey, we’re all tired,” Badenhorst said, moving down the aisle. “Crossing all these time zones. Don’t know whether it’s
blerrie
night or day.” He laid a hand on Laffoon’s shoulder, but his focus was on Roy. He had to keep the tone light; the standoff had the potential to go very wrong. “Tempers start to fray. There’s friction, especially with all the forceful personalities we have here. Only to be expected. Let’s just back down,
nè
? All of us. Got a long flight ahead, seven hours plus. Probably this is the time to get some shuteye so we’re nice and rested for work tomorrow. How about it?”

“Yes, how about it?” said Roy to Laffoon and Schutkeker. “I’m going to let you both go, on the understanding that if there is any more of this bollocks between you, I will take it personally, and you will not like that.”

Laffoon and Schutkeker nodded.

Roy released them.

They retired to their seats, sullen as scolded schoolchildren.

Badenhorst leaned in and said in Roy’s ear, “Good job. Asserting your authority. I told you you’re the leader.”

“Glad to be of service,” Roy replied coolly.

Badenhorst mentally translated that as
fuck you
, and fixed the Englishman with a huge smile.

As he strode back to his seat, the Afrikaner felt pleased. If Roy could channel into the Myrmidons’ remaining missions the same deadly energy he had just brought to defusing the row between Laffoon and Schutkeker, then success was assured. Badenhorst had had his qualms about kidnapping Josie Young, but now he was certain it had been the right move. His employer had taken some persuading; but Roy was becoming a loose cannon, and Badenhorst had managed to re-secure him, and all was cool. All was hundreds.

The jet hurtled eastward, into the gathering dusk.

TWENTY-FOUR

Krasnoyarsk

O
NCE AGAIN,
C
HASE
wanted to go on a monster hunt.

“It’s like an addiction with you,” Theo said, after his cousin announced at breakfast that he fancied another expedition into the wild to track down a local semi-mythical beast. “You can’t leave it alone.”

“What can I say? I’m a creature of habit, and my habit is creatures.”

Salvador chuckled, sipping ferociously strong black tea. “See what he did there? Wordplay. Clever.”

“Maybe,” said Theo, “but wandering the countryside is less clever.”

“Why not?” said Chase. “We’ve got time to kill, and let’s face it, Krasnoyarsk isn’t exactly party city. Half an hour by hire car and we can be out in the back of beyond. You know the Stolby Nature Reserve? The place the helicopter pilots mentioned, with the rock formations? It’s got several rivers running through it, including the Bazhaika. Up there last year there was a sighting of a vodyanoy.”

“A what?” said Salvador.

“Water elemental. Looks like an old man but with webbed fingers, long green hair and a frog’s face. You don’t want to piss one off. They’ve been known to sink dinghies and rowing boats and drag people into the water to drown. This guy claims he encountered one while fishing on the banks of the Bazhaika. It grabbed his line and tried to reel him in, and he let go of the rod and ran like a son of a bitch to his pickup. Only just got away, he said, and he was so terrified that he drove the truck into a tree on the way home.”

“What’s the betting he’d been drinking?” said Theo.

“That’s what the cops who arrested him thought. And I’ll be honest, he did fail the breathalyser.”

“Of course he did.”

“But the police report said he seemed genuinely shit-scared. He stuck to his story and wouldn’t be shaken from it. He’d had a run-in with an amphibious monster.”

“Okay,” said Theo. “Maybe there is a vodyanoy out there. But there’s
also
someone out there who appears determined to wipe us out. We’re being hunted too.”

“Weren’t they supposed to have got us yesterday, these demigod slayers, in Novy Tolkatui? Wasn’t that their golden opportunity?”

“I just feel we shouldn’t push our luck.”

“Oh, come on. What harm can it do? It’ll only be a few hours. I’m bored, and I could do with letting off some steam. Plus, I’ve got the you-know-what.” He pointed to his backpack, by his side as ever, with the Helm snug within. “How can they find me if they can’t see me?”

“I want to go too,” said Salvador. “Sounds like fun. I haven’t confronted a monster in I can’t remember how long. It’s as much in my nature as it is in Chase’s. Defeating chthonic creatures, that’s my specialty, and this one sounds like one.”

Sasha had arrived in the hotel dining room in time to catch the tail end of the conversation. “Why not let them, Theo?” she said, helping herself to scrambled eggs, kolbasa sausage and blinis from the buffet. “If they’re so keen.”

“Because I don’t think it’s a good idea, that’s why. We shouldn’t make life easy for our enemies.”

“Can you be sure our enemies are even here in Russia?”

“I can’t. But if Gottlieb knows where we are, it’s a possibility we shouldn’t discount. Did you get hold of Evander Arlington, by the way?”

“Not yet. I’ve left a message on Hélène Arlington’s voicemail, and emailed her for good measure. She isn’t always terribly quick responding, if it doesn’t suit her. Conversely, she hates it if you don’t answer a request from her immediately. She is imperious in her ways.”

Takes one to know one
, Theo thought.

“I’ll try a follow-up call if I don’t hear back from her by lunchtime,” Sasha added. “Best I can do.”

“Appreciated.”

“So?” said Chase. “Not that I have to have your permission, cuz, but can me and Salvador go on a vodyanoy hunt? Is it okay with you, ‘Dad’?”

“Why not accompany them, Theo?” Sasha suggested. “If you’re worried they might run into trouble, wouldn’t it be better if you’re there too? Safety in numbers, and so on.”

“Yeah, awesome idea,” said Chase. He clasped his hands together like a child begging for a treat. “C’mon, Theo. Please?
Pleeease?
I’ll do my chores and make my bed and, and...”

Theo had misgivings.

But then, he always did. These days, it seemed he couldn’t be certain about anything.

Sasha’s argument had merit, at least. The three of them together were a formidable proposition. Theseus, Perseus and Heracles. You’d have to be crazy to tackle that trio all at once. Even an Olympian god, were any still active, might think twice about taking them on.

“In no way enthusiastically,” Theo said, “all right.”

TWENTY-FIVE

Stolby Nature Reserve, Krai region, near Krasnoyarsk

T
HE ROCK PILLARS
–
stolby
, in Russian – which gave the national park its name were soaring projections of mottled-grey volcanic syenite. They thrust up above the treetops, some stepped and pyramidal like ziggurats, others sheer and columnar and arranged in ranks like skyscrapers. They were stone islands amid a sea of dark green taiga.

The great majority of the nature reserve’s 47,000 hectares was closed to the public, restricted to park rangers only. That did not deter Chase. For a time he led Theo and Salvador along the marked paths, like good little tourists. Once they were well away from the car park and the crowds, however, he struck off into the forest, setting up a jogging pace which his two companions dutifully matched.

They covered several miles at speed, forging across undulating terrain. They skirted areas of swamp, leapt streams and waded through shallow rivulets. The dense fir canopy provided shade from the broiling sun. Startled ground squirrels fled from their approach. Musk deer bucked into the undergrowth. A saker falcon shadowed them from above for a while, before losing interest and wheeling away.

As they paused to rehydrate, Chase consulted his phone’s GPS map. “Bazhaika river’s about three more miles thataway,” he said. “We walk from here on. I’m the pro, so pay attention to me. If I say stop, stop. If I say shut up, shut up. Tread softly at all times. I don’t know how skittish vodyanoys are, but I’m not taking any chances. If ours hears us come crashing through the woods, it might just scare him off before we can get within range.”

Drenched in sweat from running, they resumed their journey, ambling now but alert.

Soon the noise of a great smooth river was audible and there was the smell of fresh water in the air. Chase slowed further, his head swivelling left and right. Theo noted how serious his cousin had become. Gone was the habitual facetiousness, the perennial easygoing smile. Chase was listening intently, watching like a hawk, his nose raised to catch the breeze. His movements were fluid and economical, his footsteps light and graceful. This was him in his element. This was Perseus in pursuit of quarry. It was riveting to behold.