The Prometheus Objective

21

Splashing through the knee-deep water, Nina had little time to think about the fates of Caleb’s boy or Aria (aka ‘the new girl on the block’). She had her own son to worry about. Yes, he was Caleb’s child too, but she had no mistaken presumptions about which one he favored. Especially after hers was instrumental in destroying his beloved restored Library of Alexandria and working at the behest of a madman to nearly annihilate all life on the planet.

She ducked as a bullet thudded into a section of canal wall, shattering a section of basalt. Throwing her arm around Jacob, she pulled him to the side, around her back while spinning about and freeing the 9mm in her left hand.

Saw motion, another flash of fire from the jet ski about fifty feet away and closing. She liked her odds — doubtful he’d make that shot from a moving vehicle on choppy waves. She took her time, took her breath, and fired.

Her odds were indeed better. The rider jerked backwards, then slipped off as the ski continued a short distance before beginning to circle.

“Mom—”

She saw and heard it at the same time: rounding their line of sight from the south, the helicopter emerging as if from the higher complex of Nan Modal.

Damn it. “I see it, come on!”

They had a few moments, tops, before the chopper would locate them. First, they’d see the rider-less jet ski; and then the others fanning out, looking for them. The two more skis, the at least six men tramping through the canals or already on the island complex, darting about and hunting them.

They’d shown no indication of holding back. Which was bad news: they didn’t want to take them as prisoners. At least not Nina and Jacob. Maybe they had orders on Alexander and Aria, but she couldn’t be sure. None of this made much sense. Who were these enemies, and did they have orders just to stop anyone from getting too close to the artifact or did they actually want it for themselves?

“Mom!”

Now he pointed the other direction, and as if descending from the pale sun, another chopper came into view.

“Shit.”

This one aimed its nose right at them. It didn’t waver. They’d been located. Nothing for it but to run.

Men were shouting, and splashes subsided behind them. Nina put a finger to her lips as they scrambled and then stopped, protected in the shade of a forty-foot, leaning wall of towering logs stacked expertly above. She checked her pack: four clips, another 9mm, and the M5 with two clips. One grenade. All they had time to pull from the canoe. She handed Jacob the 9mm after loading the chamber and flicking off the safety. Met his eyes.

“I know how to shoot,” he said.

“And I know you do. I know you’ve killed. But this… this is fast, this is brutal. This is shoot, kill and shoot at the next.”

He took it, aimed over her shoulder, using it as a prop; squinted, and fired off four shots. She winced, then spun around, ready to mop up what he had missed.

But she only stared in admiration and surprise.

The lead chopper, a lot closer than she had thought, having gained on them rapidly, was hovering erratically, dipping one direction, then the next. It was so close she could see the cracked windshield and the slumped form inside. It dipped, and another form spilled out the side, dangling and then falling to crash onto a cracked wall.

“Move!” Nina yelled, as the chopper veered and then angled quickly down until its blade caught on the canal water, shattered and tore the whole shell apart.

They ran into a dense growth of mangroves, palms and vines. They were scratched, scraped and bruised, but for the moment, under cover.

Clouds had rolled in, smothering the sun, and the sky darkened, as if sensing their need for escape or reacting to the ominous mood.

She put a finger to her lips then pointed to herself and Jacob, and then to one direction. She took two steps, then held him back. Pointed up — indicating the wall beside them, overgrown with choking vines and higher up — palms. Dirt and debris fell from above, as if someone or something was up there, maybe ascending for a vantage point.

Branches cracked, more dirt and the sound of something scrambling for purchase. Nina stepped back, aimed the 9mm and fired. One clean shot. A grunt, a scrambling rolling sound, and a body fell, to be caught in the vines and jutting branches.

Nina pulled Jacob along, rather than have him look into those dying eyes that were still wide in shock and fading pain. Tight to the wall of the complex she remembered from the map that this was a potential tomb some thirty yards to the southwest of the main landing area. They made it to the edge when she heard something to their side, over the surging engine of another helicopter, which had drifted now to the north, toward the bay.

She ducked and aimed — but Jacob had already found the source. Two figures darting out of cover, aiming their AK-47s at the wall where their comrade hung, dying. He had a clear shot through a patch of foliage, and took it, hitting the closer man in the shoulder.

He spun back, screaming, while his mate — with a sensitive trigger finger — just opened fire in their general direction.

Nina slammed Jacob down hard, laying on top of him as the bullets tore through palms and mangrove trunks, shredding bark and leaves and crunching into the basalt, riddling the ancient wall.

Wincing, she took aim, lined it up and took him out with a head shot. His finger continued to press on the trigger, firing as he fell, and blasting his wounded partner with two mortal hits.

Jacob spit out moist dirt and looked back up in admiration. “Nice work.”

“Not out of it yet. That’ll bring the others.” She hauled him up. “Come on.”

Around the wall, they ducked and stayed low, then kept the cover and made a right-angle beeline, heading for the island’s interior.

“Wait,” Jacob whispered, and grabbed her shoulder. The winds had picked up, whipping the branches and leaves, and stinging sand and dirt at their eyes. Thicker cloud cover certainly helped obscure their position, but she still felt dangerously exposed.

The helicopter engine grew louder. Coming back this way. Nina wanted to lay flat, or rush back to the cover of the wall and the thicker palm leaves, but then she saw Jacob’s face. His eyes clenched tight, his hand gripping her wrist. Eyelids flickering.

He was in the middle of a vision. A precog one, by the sensations she was receiving, being a conduit and a carrier of these psychic elements. She could tell by the variations in the vibrations, the psychic thrill of peeking ahead this time, not behind.

His eyes shot open before she could join in the vision, not that she wanted to, having to keep her senses alert. Hard to hear anything now above the wind and the chopper engine. Enemies could creep right up…

“Back to the boulder!” Jacob insisted, his voice too loud for comfort.

“What? No, we have to stay in cover and lead these assholes away.” And pick off as many as we can, giving the lovebirds time for their swim and collection mission.

Jacob shook his head and started pulling her back east. “No, trust me. It’s the only way.”

“It’s blocked!” she countered, drawing the gun and trying to focus through the bending branches and flaying leaves. Something was out there.

Three somethings, coming fast, right toward them.

Damn.

She dropped to one knee even as Jacob started shooting, almost as if he knew exactly where they were.

Two fell with cries of surprise. The third got off a volley of automatic fire, in the wrong direction, before Nina took him out with two shots to the skull.

No time for any more respect for her son’s improving skill — or a combination of psychic ability and innate fighting talent. She crouch-ran ahead and scooped up one of the AK-47s. Better to use their ammo.

She ducked out of cover to get a clear shot, just as the helicopter flew into sight. Sprayed its underbelly with bullets and chipped the windshield. Tried to get inside the cargo bay, but it was closed. Bad news, she thought, seeing the guns mounted on the side.

It flew off, but she knew the pilot would just be getting some distance, then coming back at a strafing angle. She tossed the AK-47 and loaded the MP5.

They had to move. She grabbed Jacob by the shoulder.

“Again,” she said, meeting his eyes. “Why are we going back? That tunnel’s blocked, the big ass boulder…”

“It’ll be gone,” he assured her, and ran off ahead, through the dense brush and out into the coral pathway.

His voice carried back, and it sounded like he said: “…at the right time.”