Kingdom of Darkness

31

Flames from the ammo truck whipped back at the brake van, more bullets cooking off like deadly firecrackers. ‘This thing could blow any second,’ Zane warned. ‘Great plan!’

‘I’m an archaeologist, not Casey Jones!’ Nina shouted back. ‘We’ve got to disconnect it!’

‘By “we”, you mean…’ the Israeli muttered as he went to the front veranda, arms raised to protect his face from the heat. Nina took the brake as he leaned over the barrier and groped for the coupler’s release handle.

It was just out of reach. He pushed himself further, toes leaving the floor as his fingertips rubbed the rust-scabbed metal—

A grenade explosion shook both wagons. The lurch sent the Mossad agent over the wooden wall. He kicked his legs back to counterbalance himself, but too late.

He dropped—

His right hand clamped around the coupler handle — and he forced his arm straight, taking all his weight on his wrist and locked elbow. But he couldn’t hold himself upright. He slowly slid sideways, about to fall under the brake van’s whirling wheels…

Nina grabbed his legs. ‘I’ve got you!’ Zane gasped in breathless relief, then tugged the lever.

It didn’t move.

He tried again, harder. It shifted, but the couplers remained locked. The collision had buckled the metal.

More ordnance detonated, flinging out shrapnel. Nina ducked, then strained to haul the Israeli back into the caboose. Her plan had failed, and now they faced a choice between being blown up or flung off the track—

‘Wait, wait!’ he yelled. ‘It’s moving, I’ve got—’

A harsh clank — and Nina fell backwards, dragging Zane with her. The coupler opened, separating the two wagons… but they were still rolling downhill at matching speeds, racing towards the next hairpin. ‘Get the brake!’ he yelled.

She scrambled to the pillar and twisted the wheel. The brake van shuddered, slowing — and the other wagon suddenly raced away as if propelled by a rocket. Zane joined her, tightening the brakes’ grip.

Trailing smoke, the ammunition truck reached the bend and whipped around it. For one impossible moment, it seemed as if the runaway wagon would make it through the turn… then its front wheels jolted off the track. It bounded over the sleepers and careered down the hillside, crashing into a clump of scrawny trees and coming to a precarious halt not far above a lower leg of the track.

The brake van followed it around the hairpin, again on the verge of overturning… before steadying and coming out of the turn. ‘How many more of these goddamn reverses are there?’ Nina complained rhetorically. The train was drawing away from them. ‘Take off the brakes, we need to catch up.’

Zane complied. Gravity took hold again, the van regaining speed. They had lost ground on the Nazis, but she calculated that they would be able to keep pace, and she felt a small surge of hope as she saw that there was no sign of Eddie on the ground beside the line. He was still aboard the train…

He was — and fighting for his life.

Eddie struggled to break the Nazi’s grip on his neck, but the young man’s tendons felt like coiled steel. He switched tactics, driving punches at the soldier’s face with as much force as he could muster from his awkward position. The man recoiled from the first blow, and the second, spitting blood, but if anything the attacks only made him squeeze harder. Another punch, but the Englishman was weakening…

Something moved through the edge of his vision. The loose rope from the earthenware jar, swinging back and forth as the train rocked—

He grabbed it — and whipped it into a loop around the Nazi’s neck.

The man’s triumphant snarl abruptly changed to a rictus of alarm as Eddie yanked the rope tight. He released one hand to pull at it—

Eddie took full advantage, again driving his fist at the other man’s jaw — this time without the Nazi’s arm obstructing the strike.

There was a sharp crack as the soldier’s front teeth snapped. The man screamed as exposed nerves were rasped by broken enamel. He jerked back — allowing Eddie to slam a knee into his side. The soldier hit the floor.

Eddie gripped the rope with both hands and pulled as hard as he could, at the same time twisting on his side to deliver a two-footed kick. The Nazi rolled away — and out of the door. He was dragged along by the train for a moment before his neck broke with a horrible crack.

Eddie released the line. The end snapped away, then fluttered limply in the wind as the body fell beside the track.

Wheezing, he got up. He needed to find the Andreas relic — but found himself facing the pithos. ‘Pith off,’ he said, managing a smile.

Kroll stared back at the burning ammunition truck, before remembering that there were much closer dangers. ‘Walther! Is the Englander dead?’

‘The men are climbing along both sides of the train,’ Walther replied. ‘They’ll get him.’

The Nazi leader leaned over to look down the train’s length. ‘They’d bet—’

Sudden horror choked off his words as he saw something emerge from the wagon behind. Something as tall as a man, engraved with ancient Greek text and topped with silver… ‘The jar!’ he managed to cry. ‘The water jar!’

The other Nazi leaders rushed to see — as the pithos was kicked out of the truck. It barrelled away down the slope, rolling faster and faster… until it hit a rock. The great jar exploded into a billion fragments, its precious contents splashing over the bleak hillside.

Rasche shook with anger. ‘The water…’ He rounded on Kroll. ‘That was all the fucking water! What the hell are we supposed to do now?’

Kroll struggled to control his own fury. ‘We carry on with the plan,’ he told the others, before adding to Rasche alone: ‘I think we’re committed to it now.’

Rasche glared at him, then went to a window to scream at the men clambering along the train’s side. ‘He’s in the treasure wagon! Kill that bastard! Come on, move!’

Eddie heard the enraged yelling even over the locomotive’s huff. He was about to have visitors.

Where was the relic? He had seen it being loaded, but one wooden box looked much like another. It had been amongst the last of the treasures put aboard, though, so it would be near the doors. Considering its importance, it would also have been put somewhere safe — or at least, he realised as he glanced at the ropes that had held the pithos, secure.

Only one crate was tied down. He was about to yank at the knots when more shouts prompted him to check outside. He peered out of the left-hand door — to see soldiers clambering along the train, holding the railings and guttering at the edge of the roof. A man reached across from the wagon behind to get a grip on the loot truck—

Eddie shot him in the stomach. The Nazi hit the ground with a crunch of bones. Another round took out the man behind him. The others following tried desperately to find cover, but by now the Yorkshireman had darted to the other side of the wagon to take out a third man less than two feet from the open door. The corpse flailed away down the hillside.

He darted back to the crate and released the ties. The lid had been nailed shut, but dashing the box apart on the floor took care of that. Crumpled paper spilled out — and amongst it, the dull gleam of bronze.

Eddie picked up the relic. It was too large to fit into any of his pockets. He still needed both hands, so he hoisted up the back of his leather jacket and shoved the artefact head first inside the waistband of his jeans, flat against his buttocks. ‘Can’t believe putting a fish in my pants is the least insane thing I’ve done today,’ he muttered. It was far from comfortable, and risked limiting his movements, but he shrugged the jacket back down over its protruding tail and went to the left-hand door.

Their comrades’ deaths had dissuaded the other soldiers from advancing along the train’s side. They could still come from above, though. If he was going to rescue Banna, he had to get on the roof before them.

He looked ahead — to see the driverless locomotive lurching into the next hairpin. ‘Oh, shite!’

The snaking effect was more violent as it rippled back along the train. Eddie grabbed the door frame to save himself from being thrown out. A truncated scream came from behind; he twisted to see a soldier — or rather, half a soldier — being spat out by the grinding wheels. The Nazi had taken cover between two of the trucks, only to be shaken loose on to the track.

Eddie clung on. If the train derailed here, the terrain was steep enough to kill everyone aboard when the wagons rolled over. He braced himself, ready to dive out and take his chances if the engine came off the tracks…

Somehow, all its wheels stayed on the rails. The rocking subsided as the locomotive clanked on to the next leg of the descent.

Eddie recognised what lay at its end — the extremely tight spiral loop that he had passed with Julieta on his way into the Enklave. There was no way the train would make it around at its current speed.

He pulled himself on to the roof. Smoke rose ahead where the burning ammo truck was wedged amongst the trees. Cracks and bangs warned him that bullets were still cooking off.

The brake van was freewheeling down the line above. He glimpsed Nina inside the bullet-pocked wagon. A wave to assure her that he was okay, then he narrowed his eyes against the hot smoke from the loco’s chimney and moved forward, wondering how the hell he was going to get Banna out of a carriage full of armed and angry Nazis.

‘He’s alive, Eddie’s alive!’ Nina cried, seeing her husband on the roof.

Zane pointed behind the Englishman. ‘So are they!’ The soldiers climbing along the train resumed their pursuit. ‘Get the brake!’

He brought up his sub-machine gun as Nina took the wheel. Zane aimed, waiting until he was sure that Eddie was beyond the MP5’s spread of fire — then pulled the trigger.

Bullets sprayed the train. A man on top of one wagon was hit in the leg and fell over the edge, another Nazi clambering along the side taking an explosion of splinters to his eyes from a near miss and losing his grip in shock. He was dragged under the wheels and vanished in a wet burst of red.

The other men on the roof dropped flat — but Zane’s magazine was now empty, and he had no replacement. The silence told the Nazis all they needed to know. Guns came up—

‘Down!’ Zane yelled. Nina dropped as more bullets ripped into the brake van. Planks cracked and split, showering them with broken wood. There was a sharp bang as a supporting beam gave way — and a whole section of the curved metal roof crashed down into the rear of the compartment, pieces of the van’s side scattering on to the hillside behind it.

The front half of the wagon remained intact, but was far from undamaged, more rounds striking home. Nina buried her head in her arms as a bullet hit the brake wheel’s column with a shrieking clang. Zane crawled across the floor as another plank blew apart behind him. Then the onslaught died down as the caboose and train passed each other, heading in opposite directions.

The Mossad agent risked a look through the ragged hole. ‘Harah.’ His attack had delayed the Nazis but not deterred them; the men on the roof were already getting back up. ‘They’re still going after him.’

Nina rose to see — but her own life took priority as the battered brake van rumbled towards the next hairpin. ‘Oh, crap!’ she gasped, grabbing the wheel.

Zane sprang up to help her. The brakes shrieked in protest again. This time, something was wrong: there was a new noise, a grating rasp accompanied by a harsh judder. ‘That doesn’t sound good!’

‘Let’s hope it works better than it sounds!’ Nina maintained her hold. The wagon slowed, but the noise and vibration only grew worse.

Another lurch as the van swept into the hairpin. This time, they had shed enough speed to get around without teetering on the very edge of disaster — but as they eased the wheel back open, a clamour of disintegrating metal gave notice that another set of brake shoes had failed. Catastrophe was still waiting in the wings.

Schneider peered nervously at the track ahead. ‘We’re going too fast! We’ll never make it around the loop.’

‘Somebody has to climb into the engine and slow us down,’ said Kroll, his gaze fixed upon Rasche.

His second-in-command was not pleased. ‘What the hell do I know about driving a train?’ He addressed the men guarding Banna. ‘You two! Do either of you know how it works?’

‘I once rode in the cab when I was a boy…’ one offered hesitantly.

‘That’s good enough. Get out there and stop this thing!’

The soldier gave his companion a worried look, then saluted and went to the door. He was about to open it when a thump came from the roof at the rear of the carriage.

Walther’s face crunched into a snarl. ‘It’s the Englander!’

Kroll glowered at the huge man. ‘What are you waiting for? Kill him!’

Eddie hunched down, feet wide apart for stability on the rocking coach. The smoke was thicker this close to the locomotive, cinders searing his exposed skin. He shielded his face, trying to come up with a plan to save Banna that didn’t involve simply swinging through a window and hoping for the best—

He flinched at a gunshot, fearing that the men in the carriage were firing through the roof again. But the crack had come from one side. The train was passing the ammunition truck. The trees around it were ablaze, the wooden wagon an inferno. Forget bullets; the risk now was from explosives. He turned his head to watch it go by, trying to judge when he would be out of danger…

A different threat came into sight — soldiers on the roof, coming after him.

He crouched as low as he could as he drew the gun. But he didn’t have enough bullets left to kill them all.

That didn’t stop him from trying.

The leading Nazi was hit in the shoulder, losing his balance. The crack of bone as he landed head first was audible even over the engine’s din. The other soldiers dropped to their bellies, bringing up their MP5s to shoot along the roof—

A huge explosion came from the hillside.

The ammo wagon blew apart in a massive fireball — disintegrating the trees. Unsupported, the truck’s blazing remains jolted loose and hurtled onwards down the hillside, the mangled front end of the chassis biting hard into the ground and sending the entire wreck flipping end over end at the train—

It hit the two rear wagons. Both were bowled off the line, almost dragging the truck ahead after them before the coupler snapped. The jolt threw Eddie’s pursuers from the roof and into the carnage below. Nazis were flung shrieking from the open doors and crushed under the wrecks as they rolled down the slope. The fiery remnants of the ammunition wagon bounded through the chaos, flames swallowing soldiers and exploding grenades ripping bodies into bloody pieces.

Eddie clung to the roof as the remainder of the train shuddered. The two destroyed wagons had contained half the Nazi troops — and all the other deaths meant that Kroll’s forces were now seriously depleted. But even with those losses, he still had another two truckloads of soldiers, plus however many were in the passenger carriage—

A slam from below. Eddie twisted, catching sight of a man’s head; someone had come out of a door and was climbing along the side of the coach towards the engine.

One fewer to deal with inside, then. He looked back to check that there were no Nazis coming after him, then rose and moved to get a clear shot at the man heading for the locomotive—

A hand clamped around his ankle like a bear trap.

Walther had leaned out of the coach to grab the Englishman, pulling hard on his leg from behind. Eddie tried to bring his gun to bear, but the hulking Nazi had already thrown him off balance. He fell, landing mere inches from the edge of the roof. The choice was between keeping hold of the gun and stopping himself from going over — he took the latter, the pistol skittering along the weather-scoured metal before clunking to a stop in the gutter.

The German tugged harder, trying to drag him over the side. Eddie kicked, catching Walther’s fingers. A satisfying roar of pain came from below. The hand withdrew. The Yorkshireman rolled away from the edge, the bronze fish’s tail digging into his back, and scrambled for his gun.

A hefty thud came from behind as Walther clambered on to the roof. Eddie lunged for the weapon — but the Nazi hurled himself on to him, his sheer weight pounding the breath from the Englishman. Before Eddie could recover, the SS man hauled him up and turned to sling him off the back of the coach on to the track below—

The train lurched violently as it clattered over the little bridge at the top of the loop.

Alarmed, Walther dropped his opponent and fell to his knees, gripping a protruding ventilator cover to steady himself. Then tension turned to triumph as he saw something an arm’s length away.

Eddie searched for the gun — only to see the Nazi snatch it up with his free hand. Murderous glee flashed in Walther’s eyes as he took aim—

The soldier reached the cab and pulled the brake lever.

The train staggered as the remaining wagons concertinaed against each other. It skidded along the track, wheels locked — then swung into the loop. Everyone inside was hurled sideways as it screeched around the tight descending turn.

Those above were no better off. Eddie slid helplessly across the roof—

His back scraped over another ventilator, the squat metal cone ripping through his leather jacket — and snagging on it. He jerked to a stop, both legs flailing over the side of the train.

Walther was forced to release the gun to hold the vent with both hands. It banged back into the gutter. He swore, then saw Eddie’s plight and dropped flat, gripping the roof’s edge to pull himself closer to the Yorkshireman as the train continued its squealing turn. ‘Pig!’ the huge Nazi spat. ‘You have spilled our water — so now I will spill your blood!’

Eddie tried to move, but his jacket was still snared on the vent cover. Face red with rage, Walther reached out, thick fingers grasping at the Englishman’s neck… and squeezing.

The choking Eddie had received from the guard in the treasure wagon had been a light tickle by comparison. Walther’s grip felt as if it could crush steel. He realised he had no hope of prising open the Nazi’s fingers — so instead he attacked. With his other hand holding on to the carriage, the German couldn’t defend his face. Eddie stabbed at his eyes—

Walther simply raised his head, his longer reach putting him beyond the other man’s strikes. All Eddie could catch was his chin, but even that was too far away for him to do more than bruise it. ‘Now you will die!’ the SS thug snarled. ‘Die, you English bastard, die!’

Eddie thrashed and kicked, but couldn’t break free. Never mind suffocation; Walther was about to snap his neck. He made one last hopeless swing at the Nazi’s jaw as something loomed behind it…

The punch was abandoned mid throw as he saw what it was — the bridge, the train looping back around to pass beneath it. Instead he braced both hands palms up under Walther’s chin, forcing his head back. The Nazi grinned malevolently at the futility of this final action—

The back of Walther’s skull burst apart as it smacked into the unyielding end of a rusty girder.

The big man instantly went limp, collapsing on top of Eddie before sliding off the roof. His body bounced off the side of the cutting and fell under the train’s wheels, mangled pieces being dragged along before the gory mush was finally spewed out over the side of the track.

Eddie kept his head down until the train was clear. ‘Like a bridge over troubled Walther,’ he wheezed, even a bad joke feeling necessary to celebrate his survival.

A metallic squeal from above. He looked back to see the brake van pass over the crossing and start around the loop. With the train still slowing, Nina and Zane were quickly catching up.

Too quickly. If the train stopped, the van would smash right into it…

The Nazi leaders had realised the same thing. Kroll screamed ‘Schnell! Schnell!’ — and the man in the cab released the brakes, the carriage shuddering as the train rolled freely once more. A moment later, a bellowing huff of smoke burst from the chimney as the soldier opened the throttle. The wheels spun wildly before finding traction, and the locomotive lurched forward.

The jolt of acceleration kicked Eddie backwards. Fabric ripped. He struggled, finally pulling free and exhaustedly standing. As the loco came out of the bottom of the loop, the brake van screeched around the tighter upper section, descending to pass under the bridge. Even with the train picking up speed, it would catch it in seconds.

He retrieved the gun. A moment of indecision — then with deep reluctance he turned and ran back down the train, vaulting over the gaps between the cars. He felt disgusted at himself for abandoning Banna, but he knew that climbing into the carriage to rescue him would result only in his death. Also, without the relic, the Nazis needed the young Egyptian to find the spring. They would keep him alive… until he was no longer needed.

The train emerged on to the next leg of the track. The brake van rounded the loop behind it. He jumped on to the last remaining wagon and pounded along its roof. Shouted German came from below — then geysers of bullets erupted behind him as the enraged Nazis opened fire. The brake van was thirty feet behind the train, twenty, Nina and Zane urging him on…

Eddie reached the rear of the wagon, shots bursting up at his heels—

He didn’t stop.

The track blurred below as he made a running jump off the back of the train, the brake van rushing at him.

Falling short—

He threw out both arms — and hit the veranda with an agonising bang. But he couldn’t get a firm hold. He clawed at the wood — then fell towards the track…

Hands grabbed his wrists.

‘Got you!’ Zane grunted. Eddie swung his feet before finding the coupler and using it to push himself upwards.

Behind the Israeli, he saw Nina standing at the brake. ‘You got him?’ she shouted.

‘Yeah!’ Zane replied, hauling Eddie over the barrier.

‘Great — ’cause we need to duck!’ She twisted the wheel and dropped, the two men hurriedly doing the same—

Bullets hammered against planks as the Nazis opened fire. But the train was pulling away. The fusillade died down, a few last rounds smacking home before the gunmen were carried out of range.

Eddie shook off broken wood and looked at Nina. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yeah,’ she replied. ‘Jesus, what about you?’

He realised he was covered with Walther’s blood. ‘Don’t worry, it’s not mine. Well, most of it.’ He noticed a lump of grey matter stuck to his jacket. ‘Looks like I finally got some brains,’ he said as he flicked it away.

Nina made a disgusted face. ‘Gross. What about Ubayy?’

‘I couldn’t get to him. I’m sorry. But,’ he added on seeing her dismay, ‘they’ll need to keep him alive for now.’

‘Why?’ asked Zane as he went to the brake column.

‘’Cause I’ve got the fish.’ He proudly produced it from his trousers, to his wife’s amusement. ‘So they need him to find the spring.’

‘That’s assuming we let them get away,’ Zane said, determination returning to his voice. He released the brakes.

‘How’re we going to stop ’em?’ Eddie said. ‘There’s three of us, and a gun with,’ he slid out the magazine to count, ‘two bullets. They’ve still got two trucks full of arseholes with automatic weapons.’

‘I don’t know how! But we can’t let them escape.’

‘Not after what they did to Macy,’ said Nina. Her voice was quiet, but the anger behind it was clear.

Eddie shook his head wearily, then rose. The train was still drawing away as it headed for the trestle bridge. He glimpsed Rasche shouting orders from the carriage.

Wait — what orders? The brake van was now beyond an MP5’s effective range, and all the heavy weapons had been in the destroyed ammunition truck. But the soldiers in the last wagon were leaning from both doors as if preparing to attack…

His gaze snapped past the train. It was almost at the crossing—

‘Shit!’ he gasped. ‘Put the brakes back on, quick!’

‘What’s happening?’ Nina asked in sudden concern.

‘They’re going to blow up the fucking bridge!’ The soldiers were being passed objects by their fellows inside the wagon: grenades.

Zane hurriedly spun the wheel back the other way. The brakes wailed again. ‘We’ll never stop in time!’

‘We’d bloody well better!’ Eddie tossed the relic to Nina, then joined the Israeli and added his weight. The stench of burning reached them as flying sparks set light to splintered wood.

The train crossed the bridge — too quickly, parts of the track bed shaking loose as it thundered over the ravine. The men leaning from the rear wagon stretched out further, others inside holding them steady…

Arms swung in synchrony, tossing grenades on to the line.

The train continued. Seconds passed, two, three—

The explosions came so close together that they seemed like one single blast. Sleepers flew like scattered toothpicks, the central section of the bridge rocking wildly before support beams broke and a full third of the old structure collapsed into the canyon. The train was already safely across, carrying on down the hill.

Eddie and Zane watched the disintegration in horror. ‘Benzonah!’ exclaimed the Israeli.

‘That, and fuckery!’ Eddie added as they both hauled harder on the wheel. The piercing screech of the brakes grew even louder—

Then abruptly stopped at a crack of shearing metal. The wagon picked up speed again.

Zane gave the wheel a last useless spin. ‘We’ll have to jump!’

‘We’ll be killed!’ Nina protested. The ground was littered with rocks.

‘It’s our only chance!’

‘We’re going too fast,’ Eddie said. He looked back, but jumping from the van’s wrecked rear on to the track would make little difference—

The roof. The piece that had fallen into the cabin was curved metal, somewhat wider than the track and about five feet long…

He ran to it. ‘Give me a hand!’ he yelled as he strained to lift the roof section.

‘What are you doing?’ Zane demanded.

‘You ever been surfing?’ The steel plate shifted; Nina joined her husband to help turn it over, the concave underside now facing upwards. There was a chain with a hook at one end amongst the debris. Eddie made sure it was firmly attached to the chassis, then fixed it to the roof’s cross-brace.

The Mossad agent watched in disbelief. ‘Are you crazy?’

‘After six years with Eddie, this is normal!’ Nina assured him. She helped her husband to push the roof piece off the rear veranda. As it slammed down on the track, the chain jerked taut, and the steel plate lashed from side to side before stabilising, dragging along behind the runaway wagon with a nerve-shredding shrill.

‘Climb on to it,’ Eddie told his wife. He held her hand as she cautiously stepped down. The horrible noise worsened as she put her weight on the roof, the chain straining — but holding. ‘Jared, come on!’

Zane looked between the rapidly approaching bridge and the makeshift sled, then shrugged. ‘You’ve stayed alive this long, old man,’ he said. ‘I guess you know what you’re doing!’

‘Oh, fuck no,’ said Eddie as the Israeli clambered down beside Nina. ‘I’m still making this shit up as I go.’ A small grin as he readied his gun and followed Zane on to the roof, which shimmied under the extra load before straightening out. ‘It’s worked so far, but,’ he took aim at the chain, ‘there’s always a last time!’

He fired—

Sparks flew — but the bullet glanced off the chain without breaking it. ‘And this might be it,’ he added with considerably less humour. ‘Okay, and — now!’

The final shot — and the chain snapped.

Friction instantly snatched at the improvised sledge, almost pitching Eddie off before Zane caught him. The brake van raced away on to the bridge. The broken structure shook beneath it — then the wagon sailed off the end of the track, arcing down across the ravine to carve through the trestlework on the far side like a wrecking ball. What was left of the other half of the crossing came down on top of it.

‘We’re not stopping!’ Nina cried as the skidding roof section reached the bridge.

‘Jump!’ Eddie yelled. They all flung themselves off the back of the sled—

Even after losing most of their speed, the landing on unforgiving wood and steel was punishing. Nina, the lightest, was the first to roll to a halt, still clutching the bronze relic.

But Zane and Eddie tumbled onwards, the sledge flying into the void ahead of them as they reached the end of the line…

The Englishman splayed himself flat, the wooden sleepers scraping painfully against his back — but the extra drag stopped him. Zane bowled past, screaming as he went over the drop—

Eddie caught his leg. The Mossad agent’s wail was abruptly cut off as he swung back and hit the trestlework below the broken track. He hung upside down for a moment before the realisation sank in that he was not falling to his death, and twisted to take hold of the wooden beams. ‘You okay?’ Eddie gasped, straining to hold him.

‘Yeah,’ came the breathless reply, ‘but get me up, quick! This thing’s going to collapse!’ A sonorous creak as the bridge swayed queasily emphasised his point.

Bloodied and bruised, Nina nevertheless limped to aid them. They dragged Zane on to the bridge, then helped him up. ‘Come on!’ she cried, running back along the shuddering span. Sleepers dropped away in her wake, forcing Eddie and Zane to vault over the gaps.

A loud crack — then a sound like the clatter of giant dominoes falling. Eddie glanced back to see the entire track bed disappearing plank by plank into the ravine after them. ‘Shit! Leg it!’

Nina reached solid ground. The two men hurled themselves into dives to land beside her as the bridge cascaded into the canyon in a huge cloud of dust and flying debris.

Eddie stared at the destruction, then looked up at the now-distant train as it continued down the hill towards the dry lake — where he saw movement. ‘Over there!’ he said, pointing.

An aircraft, a large twin-prop cargo plane, was coming in to land on the desiccated lake bed. A second aircraft followed it a few miles distant. ‘Leitz’s transport,’ Zane muttered. He shakily pushed himself upright, then slammed a frustrated fist into his palm. ‘Damn it! We’ll never catch them now. They’ll be long gone by the time we get to the lake.’

‘We know where they’re going, though,’ said Nina as she helped Eddie up. ‘Northern Iran.’

‘That doesn’t help us! They’ll have a head start — and we don’t know exactly where they’re headed. But they’ve still got Banna, and he can take them to the spring.’

‘We can locate it too,’ Nina reminded him. She held up the relic. ‘I can make the same calculations that he did. But first we need to contact the Argentinian authorities, the IHA — and the Mossad, too. If we act fast enough, we might be able to catch them before they leave the country.’

Zane did not seem confident of success. ‘Maybe. But I think Leitz will have arranged something special for them.’

‘Leitz was the guy you went after in Italy, wasn’t he?’ Nina said. ‘What happened there?’

‘Long story,’ said Eddie. He looked towards the distant town. ‘I’ll tell you all about it on the way down.’