The Lost Labyrinth

FORTY-FIVE
I

Knox and Gaille backed cautiously away from Mikhail's advance, trying to loop around the stalagmite to the walkway. But Knox trod on a loose rock and instinctively grabbed Gaille's forearm to stop himself from falling, pulling her off-balance too. It was only a moment, but it was enough. With a terrifying war-cry, Mikhail charged out of the darkness, the sledgehammer raised like an executioner's axe, swinging it lethally down at Knox's head. Knox had no time to get out of range; he leapt inside the blow instead, slamming his shoulder into Mikhail's chest, dumping him onto his backside, the hammer passing harmlessly behind his back. Mikhail let go of its shaft, drew his knife and in a single fluid movement slashed up at Knox's face.

'Run!' yelled Gaille.

Knox didn't hesitate. He turned and fled with her out of the gallery of treasures down the colonnade of axes then over to the steps and clambering breathlessly back over the rubble mound. The generator must have run out of fuel, for the lamps had gone out in the passage, leaving it dark as blindness. He crouched and felt for the electrical cable. 'Grab my shirt,' he told Gaille. 'Don't let go.' He waited till she had a firm grip, then set off up the passage, using the cable like Ariadne's thread to guide him back out of this labyrinth. Aware Mikhail would be able to use it too, he pulled it after him as he went; but a loop of it snagged on a rock and he couldn't tug it free. And then he heard Mikhail, and it was too late. They scrambled up the ramp of rock, picked up the flex again. The blackness had settled around them so completely he could see nothing at all, making it hard to know how much distance they were covering. He held out his free hand defensively, lest he crack his head on an overhang. They'd soon come to the top of a high rock shelf; he remembered that much. He got down onto hands and knees and crept along until he felt its edge, then he found the top of the ladder and climbed briskly down. He waited for Gaille at the foot then they tried to rip the ladder from the wall, but again Mikhail was on them before they could finish, and they turned and hurried on, Mikhail cursing and muttering behind as they passed through tunnels and galleries. Gaille was struggling to keep up, so Knox slowed as far as he dared. Then finally there was a lessening of the darkness and he glimpsed greyness ahead, and suddenly they were at the cave mouth, blinking at the light, flinching at the horrific sight of Iain's head lying on its side. They got back onto their hands and knees and crawled along the throat of the cave until they were outside.

There was no way to defend the mouth, not against Mikhail and his knife. Knox thought he could see a pathway through the gorse out into the main body of the plain, so he charged straight into it. Passage proved easy enough for the first few metres, but it grew increasingly tangled and hard. He held up his forearms to protect his chest from the spines as he fought his way past the tough stubby branches, creating a path for Gaille to follow. His legs tired, he began to falter; but then he heard an engine, rising then briefly fading away, before a black wasp appeared over the southern escarpment face. His spirits soared: Angelos had delivered his promised helicopter. He looked around as Mikhail emerged from the cave, the golden fleece still clasped around his throat, gleaming gloriously in the sunlight. He strode into the gorse after them, taking advantage of their wake to close rapidly.

Knox waved his arms to attract the pilot's attention. He feared he'd be too far away to be seen, but the helicopter abruptly changed course towards him. Fighting through the gorse was like wading through deep mud; he couldn't sustain his pace much longer. Gaille must have sensed it, for she pushed past him, taking her own turn at forcing them a path, looking back every few moments to make sure he was following.

The copter made a fierce noise as it drew close, blasting them with its downdraft as it made to set down by the edge of the gorse. Its door slid open even as it was still landing, and two men jumped out. Knox glanced exultantly back at Mikhail, expecting him to flee while he still had the chance. But Mikhail was not only still following, he was waving to the men, gesturing instructions. And only now did Knox notice their lack of uniforms; only now did he recognise the helicopter from the Internet photograph of Ilya Nergadze's yacht.

He yelled at Gaille to stop, but she didn't hear him over the din of rotor-blades. She fought her way through the last of the gorse and ran out; but one of the two men drew his handgun and aimed at her chest. She stopped uncertainly and looked back at Knox, still tangled in the gorse. The fear in her eyes twisted at his heart, but there was nothing he could do. The second man now drew his own gun; he aimed at Knox and fired twice. Knox dived for cover then scrambled away beneath the yellow canopy, putting distance between himself and where he'd been. Then he lay there panting hard, remembering with a dreadful foreboding the cruelties Mikhail had inflicted on Nadya, and wondering what horrors now awaited the woman he loved.