The Secret of Atlantis

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Hawke and Scarlet emerged from the monorail and found themselves exactly where Lazarus had described. They were standing on a rain-lashed section of the Seastead’s upper level on the northeast of the platform by a runway. A sky slick and greasy with rain loomed above them and dead ahead was the hangar. Trundling out of it was a small Eclipse 500 business jet.

With the grenade launcher the dying man had give him gripped firmly in his hands, and only three rounds for it in his pocket, Hawke knew they only had one chance to stop Otmar Wolff, and that chance was now.

“We have to get closer!” he said. “This thing has a two hundred meter range so we couldn’t hit a barn door from this range.”

They ran across the platform in the rain and wind as fast as they could, never taking their eyes off the jet. Its two Pratt & Whitney turbofans were already fired up and the Oracle was trundling it out of the tiny hangar and lining it up on the runway.

“He’s on his way, Joe!”

“We’ll see about that.”

He aimed the grenade launcher and fired on the small jet. A puff of smoke and then two seconds later the small hangar exploded in a fireball.

“Strike one,” Scarlet said, looking anxiously at the jet as it began to speed up.

Hawke fired the second grenade. Two seconds later another large fireball exploded into the air, this time on the runway twenty yards behind the accelerating jet.

Scarlet sighed and turned to look at Hawke. “Strike two… only one grenade left.”

Ahead on the runway, Wolff had pushed the throttles forward and the afterburners lit up at the back of the small jet. It speeded up rapidly and began to race away down the runway.

“Now or never, Joe.”

Yes, thanks, Hawke thought. I got that.

Reaper turned the corner one second too late to save her. He’d just watched Ryan Bale and Dirk Kruger die in a boat explosion caused by Dragan Korać, and then wasted Korać for it. Now, he was thundering toward the sound of gunshots and arrived just in time to see Maria take Luk out. She’d booted him off the platform after he’d tried to kill her with a knife. It was a job well done, but then things had gone badly wrong.

He tried to stop it but was a second too late.

Another fatal shot, this time from above.

And Maria fell down. She swayed back and forth and then it was over.

Reaper immediately scanned the rigging above her and saw the assassin. He was already trying to get away.

Ekel Kvashnin.

Kamchatka had claimed another victim, but this time, Reaper swore, it would be his last.

The Frenchman jammed the gun into his belt and started to climb up into the support scaffolding in pursuit of the Russian hitman. The weasel had now reached the top of the scaffolding and was on a small mezzanine level, taking cover behind one of the Seastead’s enormous electrical turbo generators.

He watched with hatred as Kamchatka reloaded his rifle and took up a defensive position. Seconds later they were engaged in a high-intensity fire fight. A fire fight Vincent Reno was determined he had to win.

High above on the next platform he heard the chaotic noise of battle and what sounded like the whining of an aircraft’s jets, but dismissed it, not believing an aircraft could take off from a platform of this size.

Kamchatka fired on him. He was high in the substructure’s support scaffold, like a pirate in a galleon’s rigging. By the looks of it, he was loading a Russian-made VSSK Vykhlop sniper rifle, and he was doing it with impressive calmness and efficiency considering the circumstances.

Reaper knew this was his moment. He slowed his breathing and took the shot.

And Kamchatka took the bullet in his heart, just as he had done to Maria.

“Goodnight, you bastard,” Reaper said.

As Kamchatka fell from the rigging into the sea, Reaper closed his eyes and gave Ryan and Maria a silent prayer.

Hawke aimed the grenade launcher for the final time and fired it at the jet. They watched as the grenade round tore through the air, their hearts full of hope. The former Commando had judged the speed of the aircraft and the crosswind, aiming the projectile ahead of the moving jet and to its left to compensate for the three seconds it was in the air.

Time seemed to slow down.

Lea and Camacho emerged from the monorail and ran to them.

And all four watched as the jet lifted into the air, flying right over the top of the end of the runway as the grenade exploded into a third and final fireball. The aim was good enough to knock the jet to starboard for a few seconds, but they watched with grim disappointment as Wolff pulled it level and banked hard to port. Seconds later he vanished into the low cloud ceiling and all that remained was a stormy sky.

“You missed him!” Lea said.

Hawke threw the grenade launcher to the ground and cursed.

“What about Lazarus?” Scarlet said.

“He’s gone.”

“What did he say?”

“It’s from the Bible,” Lea said. “Ask and it will be given to you. Seek and you will find. Knock and the door will be opened to you. Matthew. ” She looked at Scarlet who was staring at her. “Oh — I’m a recovering Catholic schoolgirl.”

Lexi arrived next, panting hard with the effort of the sprint. “I got the refinery.”

“Good work,” Hawke said. “But he got away.”

And then Reaper turned the corner, hands on his hips and doubling over to get his breath back.

“Where are Ryan and Maria?” Hawke asked, unsettled by the bleak look on the former legionnaire’s face.

The Frenchman took a deep breath, straightened himself up to his full height and looked at them. He said nothing, but gently shook his head.

They all knew what it meant.