The Valhalla Prophecy (27 page)

“You got locked up in an Egyptian prison because you were paid by a cult leader to raid a lost pyramid!” Nina hooted. “As far as I’m concerned, you got off lightly. And if you wanted to ‘get by,’ you could always have tried finding, y’know, a job. Not hooking up with a gang of thieves and murderers.”

That last shook the other archaeologist. The lines on his face deepened as he frowned. “What are you talking about? Nobody’s been murdered.”

“Enough of this,” Hoyt interrupted, lighting a roll-up. “Let’s just get the stone, huh? Since they brought it up for us.” He looked out across the frozen lake. “Axby, Silver, go check that the ice is safe, then winch it up.” Two of his men jogged away.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Hoyt?” Eddie said, regarding the American with undisguised loathing.

“I’m still in the game, Chase. I get hired to do jobs, and get paid big bucks for doing them. Just like you used to—well, except for the big-bucks part. You never did get paid for Vietnam, did you?”

“Put down that gun and I’ll kick what I’m owed out of your arse,” the Englishman growled. Hoyt’s only reply was a mocking smirk, his compact FN P90 submachine gun still covering its target.

“Eddie, who is this guy?” Nina asked.

“His name’s Carl Hoyt,” her husband replied. “He’s a backstabbing, murdering shithead I had the bad luck to work with about eight years ago.”

“A mercenary?” He nodded. Nina faced Hoyt. “Who are you working for? And what do you want?”

Hoyt’s oily smirk widened slightly. “Client confidentiality, darlin’—I can’t tell you that. But we’re here for the stone, that’s all. We got the first one already, and we want to complete the set.”

“You’re trying to find Valhalla, aren’t you? Why?”

“What part of ‘confidentiality’ didn’t they teach you at archaeology school?” The mercenary looked around at a shout from the crane. “Raise it up!” he called back. The runestone resumed its rise from the frigid water.

“So what’re you going to do with us?” Eddie demanded.

“We’re not going to do anything,” Berkeley said before Hoyt could answer. “All we want is the runestone.” He stepped closer to the fire, leaning forward to warm his face.

Nina considered kicking him into the flames, but the sight of the guns forced her to settle for shooting her rival a scathing look. “So you waited for us to find it, then came in to steal it?”

Berkeley straightened, responding to Nina’s jab with considerable indignation. “Believe it or not, Nina, I was perfectly capable of translating the runes and deciphering the location of the second stone on my own.” He huffed, plumes of breathy arrogance blowing from his nostrils into the cold air, then addressed Tova. “Sorry about this, Dr. Skilfinger, but I’m only doing what I have to do.”

“What you have to do,” Tova echoed bitterly. “So you think you had to kill Arvid to take the first stone?”

Again Berkeley was thrown by the accusation. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, didn’t your friends tell you, Logan?” said Nina, her voice acidic. “They killed a security guard at the museum when you stole the runestone. You’re an accessory to murder. Forgot to mention that, did they?”

The archaeologist rounded on Hoyt. “Is this true? Did your people—did they
kill
someone?”

“Afraid so,” he replied, though without a trace of remorse on his hard face. “He came at us out of nowhere. We didn’t have any choice.”

“That is not true!” Tova protested. “The police said he was shot in the back!”

“While he was going for an alarm,” the mercenary told Berkeley, still with no more concern than if he had been discussing the weather. “But it happened, and wishing won’t make it un-happen. We’re here to do a job, so let’s get on with it, huh?” He raised his gun slightly for emphasis. “Dr. Berkeley, you might want to go check on the stone before we bring it ashore. Make
sure these guys actually know their shit and found the right one.”

Berkeley blinked in momentary confusion, still shaken by the revelation. “What? Oh, yeah, right. Is the chopper ready to load it?” He gestured at the EC175.

“Soon as you get it to ’em,” Hoyt replied. Berkeley nodded, then started for the lake.

“And what about us?” Nina asked loudly, making sure the retreating man heard her. “Are you going to kill us too?” Berkeley paused, looking back at Hoyt for an answer.

The mercenary’s face tightened. “You don’t give us any trouble, we won’t give you any trouble. We just want the stone.”

That satisfied Berkeley, and he continued out onto the ice. The crane had by now lifted the runestone fully out of the water. Nina watched its ascent, fury and frustration churning inside her. She gave Eddie a sidelong glance. His expression was one she had seen many times before: guarded, giving little away about his thoughts—but she knew that behind the mask, he was taking stock of their captors, searching for weaknesses. Getting ready to attack.

All he needed was an opportunity …

There was not going to be one. As if reading his mind, Hoyt stepped back, then ordered his men to widen the cordon around the prisoners. “Don’t do anything dumb, now,” he said, the remark aimed directly at the Englishman.

“Wouldn’t want to steal your thunder,” Eddie replied. If he had been hoping to provoke Hoyt, the attempt failed; the mercenary merely smirked again, keeping his P90 fixed on his onetime comrade.

Nina turned her attention back to the lake. Berkeley opened his case and took out an expensive camera, snapping several pictures of the ice-crusted runes before signaling to Hoyt’s men. One stopped the winch, the other climbing into the crane truck’s cab and gently revving the engine. Ice crunching beneath its wheels, it began its ponderous return to the shore.

Berkeley walked ahead of the vehicle, leading it to the larger helicopter. Hoyt nodded to some of his men. “Help him get it loaded,” he ordered. They hurried off. Nina saw a subtle shift in Eddie’s stance as he watched the remaining men spread out to keep their prisoners covered. The odds had shifted—only slightly, but she knew from past experience that he was a master at exploiting any advantage.

But there was still nothing he could do. The gunmen were standing too far away for him to tackle without being cut down.

The sun was finally gone, the sky’s twilight glow fading to leave the campfire as the brightest source of illumination. More lights came on inside the EC175 as Hoyt’s men extended a sturdy winch arm out from the cabin, ready to receive the runestone. The monolith itself had now made landfall, the crane truck lumbering to the waiting aircraft and backing up to it. More chains were attached, these connected to the chopper’s winch. With Berkeley issuing instructions and warnings to be careful, the heavy stone slab was slowly brought into the cabin.

Matt watched the transfer ruefully. “So we put in all that work bringing the thing up, and these guys just swoop in like seagulls and steal it?” He eyed Hoyt, lowering his voice to say to Eddie: “There’s got to be something we can do, mate.”

“There isn’t” came the curt reply.

Hoyt gave Eddie a sneering look. “Nobody to help you out this time, Chase. Although with the way you show your gratitude, that’s probably a good thing!”

The Englishman scowled. “Shut up.”

“Why?” Hoyt came closer, but he kept his gun fixed on Eddie. “Oh, I get it. You didn’t tell anyone what really went on in Vietnam? Can’t say I’m surprised—if anyone knew what happened to the people you were supposed to be protecting, you might have had trouble getting work.” He glanced at Nina. “She’s your wife, yeah? Amazed she’s still alive with you looking after her. You tell her about it?”

Eddie glared at him, avoiding Nina’s questioning gaze. “Nothing to tell.”

“Oh, I dunno. She might wanna find out what you’re really like.”

“I know what he’s like,” Nina said.

“You know what he
did
, though? Might change your—” He broke off at a shout from the helicopter, backing away from Eddie before turning. The runestone was now secured in the Eurocopter’s cabin. The driver moved the crane truck well clear of the aircraft and got out. Berkeley signaled to Hoyt that everything was ready, then clambered into the helicopter. Its engines started up, the rotors beginning their slow rise to takeoff speed. The Jet Ranger also whined to life.

“You’ve gotten what you came for,” said Nina. “Are you going to let us go?”

Hoyt turned back to face the prisoners. A nasty smile creased his fleshless face. “Nope.”

“Didn’t think you would,” Eddie growled.

“That was just for Berkeley, to keep him on our side. We need him to translate the stone and figure out how to find Valhalla, but I knew from the first minute I met him he wouldn’t have the stomach for anything more. Like getting rid of witnesses.”

Panic ran through the group. The men surrounding them stepped closer, bringing up their guns. Tova gasped in terror.

Despite the fear coursing through her, Nina managed to summon up some defiance. “You’re just going to mow us down?” she asked, hoping that Eddie was planning some way to fight back. But he seemed oddly calm. Not
accepting
of the situation—more waiting for the right moment to act. She couldn’t see what he meant to do, though. “I think Logan’ll hear that even over the chopper.”

“No he won’t,” Hoyt replied. “Garrow?”

One of the gunmen reached into his coat, taking out a chunky black metal cylinder. He slid it over his P90’s muzzle, locking it into position with a sharp click. “Silence is golden,” the mercenary leader said with a smirk.

One of the Norwegians cried out in horror as Garrow raised his weapon. Nina tensed, muscles tightening as her fight-or-flight reflex kicked in, but she could do neither. Beside her, Eddie’s gaze flicked over the men surrounding them, but he still didn’t seem about to take any action …

“Do it,” said Hoyt, nodding at Garrow. The P90 rounded on Nina—

A whipcrack sound, and a hole the size of a coin appeared in Garrow’s forehead—as the entire back of his coat’s hood blew outward in an eruption of gore.

Now
Eddie moved, lunging at the dead man as he collapsed and snatching the gun from his nerveless fingers. Hoyt’s other men were still frozen in shock by the unexpected attack—then one of them broke through his paralysis and swung to cut down the Englishman.

Eddie was faster. The stolen P90 bucked in his hand as he swept it around and pulled the trigger, the suppressor reducing the gunshots to dull clacks. The mercenary and the man next to him fell backward as the spray of automatic fire stitched bloody lines across their chests.

“Run!”
Eddie yelled. He tracked Hoyt, but the American dived behind a truck before he could shoot. “Get to cover!”

Nina had already responded, seizing Tova by the wrist and pulling her past the fire to drop down behind another crippled vehicle. Matt ran in a different direction, scrambling into the little shelter containing the submersible’s controls.

Mikkel was also quick to respond, pushing Peder behind a four-by-four. But some of the team were as stunned as the mercenaries, left gawping as the bodies fell around them.

It cost them their own lives. One of Hoyt’s men finally snapped back into motion and opened fire on the group as it splintered, slicing down two of its members and turning to find more—

A burst of Eddie’s bullets ripped into his stomach. He fell, screaming.

The Englishman was now the mercenaries’ primary target. Another gunman rounded on him—

A second sniper round punched through the man’s chest and exploded out of his back.

Eddie had already realized from the supersonic crack of the first bullet that the unseen shooter was on the far side of the lake. One of the mercenaries was slower on the uptake, head darting from side to side as he tried to find the source of the gunfire. Two shots from the silenced P90 brought an abrupt end to his search.

Eddie ducked behind a truck, giving his weapon’s translucent plastic magazine a momentary glance to check the remaining ammo—about half of the original fifty rounds—before rising to locate Hoyt.

The American was running for the larger helicopter. “Take off, take off!” he yelled to the pilot. “Get the stone out of here! The rest of you, give us cover!” More members of his team jumped out to join the battle.

Berkeley looked on, horrified. “What happened?”

Hoyt leapt into the cabin. “Chase grabbed a gun and started shooting,” he lied before turning his attention back to the pilot. “Go on,
go
! Take off! Get the—”

He ducked as bullets hit the fuselage, aluminum splinters spraying around the cabin. Berkeley shrieked, the men outside diving flat. The mercenary leader didn’t need to look to know who was shooting at him. “Chase,” he growled, before yelling: “Kill him!”

Eddie hurriedly took cover against the front of the truck as the mercs from the EC175 shot back. Bullets tore through sheet metal with harsh clanks, the four-by-four’s windows shattering. But he knew the front wheel and engine block would protect him; the 5.7mm bullets of the P90s were designed to penetrate flesh and body armor, not thick steel and cast iron.

The gunmen closer to him were a bigger concern. The survivors had regrouped. Fear of the sniper was keeping them down, but a glance warned Eddie they were now moving through the camp to hunt down the remaining expedition members. He spotted Nina and Tova in the firelight, sheltering by another vehicle. “Nina! They’re
coming toward you!” he shouted. He was about to shoot at the approaching mercenaries when one of them zeroed in on the sound of his voice and opened fire, forcing him to jerk back.

Another whipcrack, and a scream. The sniper was still finding targets. The other mercs scrambled into cover.

One hunkered down behind the pickup holding the submersible. He pressed against its flank and edged forward to get line of sight on his targets.

He spotted Nina and Tova, who were moving in a crouch toward the lake in response to Eddie’s shout. His P90 came up, glowing crosshairs lining up on the redhead as his finger curled around the trigger—

The pickup jolted against him as he fired. The shot missed Nina’s head by inches, smacking into the truck behind her. She yelped and threw herself back.