The Seven Seals of Egypt

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Drake slipped his Maglite into his mouth and pounded back up the tunnel. The way was worn and strewn with debris; mostly piles of sand. The close-set walls impeded him at every step. Twice he rebounded from left to right. At his back the grunts and groans attested to almost everyone else having a similar problem.

“Have you stopped for takeaway?” Mai asked from the back.

“Shut it.” Drake ran hard, feeling the heat increase with each step. Every instinct screamed at him to pull out a weapon and make it ready but the way up was just too unpredictable, treacherous. He counted a minute of running and then the temperature rose sharply. The tunnel walls lightened.

“Heads up!” he cried and pulled up hard close to the exit.

Kenzie came over the comms. “They’ve seen the Jeeps. Kinimaka and Smyth are already there. Where are you people?”

“Here.” Drake stepped out into the glaring daylight and headed straight for the transport. He could see two helicopters now, diving out of the sky, men hanging out of the sides.

“Taking fire!”

He rolled to the side as the choppers swooped. A burst of gunfire sounded and then a blast of raucous laughter. The second chopper targeted the Jeeps, raking the area with bullets. Kenzie was returning fire from her perch atop a sandy mound, giving both helicopters something to think about. The first veered away sharply, one of its gunners shouting a protest. The second dove even lower behind the mound, slipping lightly over the desert sands, throwing up mini dust-tails in its wake.

Again, the team ran for the Jeeps, everyone firing and giving the choppers full warning of their firepower and how they intended to use it. Bullets pinged off metal and broke windows, some even thudding into seatbacks. Both choppers were in some disarray, probably full of ego-laden mercs and not expecting the retaliation.

Kinimaka and Smyth climbed behind the steering wheels of the Jeeps and started them up, trusting their comrades to keep the gunfire off them. Drake saw the first chopper swinging back around, this time with some serious weapons poking out of it.

He stopped, fell to one knee, and lined the aggressors up.

A line of bullets stitched the ground near his right knee, traveling well past. Alicia dropped to the other side of it, weapon aimed.

“Make ’em count,” she said.

Drake fired without stopping, targeting every face and window he could see. Glass exploded and metal ripped away. Alicia’s bullets hit the mark too, and one man fell out of the chopper and tumbled to the floor. The bird thundered overhead, rotors whirling, a nightmare sound under fire. Drake turned with it, tracking it toward the nearby mounds.

“That’ll make him think twice,” Alicia said.

Drake saw the rest of the tomb’s structure now, not having been in the right place or even particularly interested earlier. It was a rectangular, flat-topped, stone-built structure, at least half of which was crumbled away, but the overall shape was still noticeable. This structure covered the deep shaft leading to the tomb itself. Cut into the bedrock, it would have taken a significant amount of determined men to fashion.

There would be others around. Many of these tombs were built close to one another. A thought to bear in mind.

The second chopper decided to come back around for more. The rest of the team were in position around the Jeeps by now, giving Drake and Alicia time to run up to them. Volleys of gunfire surrounded their arrival. The men in the choppers, despite their height advantage, were being handicapped by the clumsy maneuvering and turbulence, and even by the chopper’s own structure.

“Easy pickings,” Mai said.

The Jeeps were running, primed to go. Drake saw no advantage to leaving, though, whilst the helicopters were in the air. Doing so would only turn the disadvantage right around.

As they waited, Crouch’s phone started to ring. The man ignored it, watching the choppers hovering and trying to figure out what to do.

“Tricky one even if they weren’t packed full of mercs,” Alicia said ungraciously. “It’s mostly flat ground out here. Just those low mounds. We’d be picking each other off for days.”

“Good point,” Crouch said. “A shame we can’t contact them.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s a stalemate. Time for quid pro quo.”

“They will land,” Mai said quietly. “It’s the only sane thing to do.”

Smyth pursed his lips. “They’re mercs. Nothing sane about it.”

“Move the vehicles,” Dahl said, unable to keep the glint from his eyes. “A short way. Then get ready to jump out and finish this.”

Crouch’s phone rang again. He ignored it. Drake gave the Swede a shake of the head. “Crazy idea, pal, but I like it.”

Smyth gunned the first Jeep. “Me too.”

Tires slewed and skidded over the sand as Smyth and Kinimaka flung the vehicles around. Dust mushroomed into the air. All of the windows were open so Drake heard the choppers the moment they started to move.

“Here they come!”

The jeeps rolled forward as most of their occupants rolled out of the side doors. Dahl was first, two rolls and up into a kneeling position. He caught the first chopper as it came after them, nose down. He emptied a clip into the oncoming beast, changed mags in record time, and started on the second. To left and right the rest of the team did the same, a nonstop onslaught of lead. The cockpit glass shattered, the pilots shot several times. Drake saw other men scrambling to take charge of the controls.

But the choppers came on.

The first at a sharp angle, slightly erratic, mercs still trying to get a bead on the enemy. The second swooped to the side, losing altitude very quickly. Mercs leapt out of both sides as it approached the ground. It hit once, bounced, and then hit again, listing badly. Men scrambled out from underneath its bulk, terrified, weapons left behind. After a moment it settled back onto its skids, a broken beast.

The first chopper righted itself in the air and came on, straight along the path the Jeeps had taken. Drake moved his position, aiming along the side. The black mass flew above him again, forcing him to stare into its underbelly. The updraft was huge, forming a small cyclone of sand and dust particles, mixed with rock. Drake dived out of the way, keeping his head down. He coughed, face in the sand.

Now, survivors from the first crash were headed their way.

“Time to leave!” The comms were full of advice these days.

Kenzie had hotfooted it across the mounds and was now approaching from the right, headed for the slow-rolling Jeeps. She jumped in on the fly. Others fired more and more lead at the chopper, making it gain altitude before trying to turn.

“Ammo running low,” Mai said.

“Save it,” Crouch said. “Jump in, people.”

At that moment the chopper above lost control. Maybe it was a random bullet, a pilot error or a fatality, but something vital changed. It literally fell right out of the sky, straight down toward the lead Jeep.

Kinimaka was at the wheel, eyes on the desert ahead and the upcoming roadway. He knew nothing until Kenzie roared out a warning.

“Move it! Move! Sky! Chopper!”

Whatever she meant, it galvanized the Hawaiian. Instantly, his enormous right foot rammed down hard on the gas pedal, making the jeep lurch forward. More sand sprayed. The engine roared. The tires gained traction and the vehicle shot forward. A great shadow hung overhead, falling fast. Drake watched with his heart in his mouth, the blood pounding hard in his ears. A bullet passed close to his ribcage, traveling on into the desert. He never noticed. Everything else was forgotten.

Hayden screamed over the comms. “Move, move, fucking move!”

Kinimaka wrenched the wheel hard, trying to evade. A deafening, all-encompassing roar filled the world of everyone inside the Jeep — Kenzie, Yorgi and Mai. For once, there was nothing any of them could do. This was a game of chance.

“C’mon, Mano,” Alicia breathed again and again. “C’mon, Mano. C’mon.”

As the jeep dodged frantically, the helicopter crashed hard, its heavy structure striking the desert with such force that it shook the earth. Metal shrieked and twisted. Drake, from this vantage point, couldn’t tell whether the Jeep was running on the other side or crushed underneath. A vast sand-curtain billowed up, obscuring everything and everyone.

The licking flames pinpointed the helicopter.

Drake picked himself up, moved back and then ran around the fallen beast, Alicia and Dahl at his side. Their hearts were in their mouths, their hopes displayed on their stricken faces. Crouch and Hayden were with them a second later, running in from a different position.

As one they came around the wreckage.

It exploded; a concussive wave expanding fast and once more causing the ground to shake. Drake fell forward onto one knee, didn’t stop moving, and managed to recoil back into an upright position, still progressing forward. Alicia landed on her left hip, crying out, but was up again in less than a second. The rest followed. A few chunks of debris flew around them, some flapping in the gust. A portion of the sand that had flown upward began to rain back down.

“You there?” Hayden cried frantically. “Mano? Mai?”

Her plaintive call went unanswered.

Drake cleared the fiery remains, still running into a curtain of dust, finally seeing it beginning to thin out. He saw tail lights then, and at last Kinimaka’s Jeep, now coasting and stopping a few hundred yards beyond the wreck.

“Mai?”

“Comms are out,” Alicia said. “At least theirs are.”

Hayden was running past them, approaching the Jeep and wrenching at the doors. Kinimaka brought it to a stop, a look of surprise on the big Hawaiian’s face as they all came alongside.

“Whassup, brah?” he asked. “Did I hit something?”

Drake laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Yeah, a fucking great bird. Well done, mate. Bloody well done.”

Hayden was alongside him in the passenger seat, reaching out, grabbing his shoulders for a hug. Mano went right in, arms engulfing her. Drake took in the back seat and the relieved faces there.

“All good?”

Smyth came alongside in the second Jeep. “We gotta hurry. Some of those idiots are still coming.”

“Don’t they know the tomb is theirs?” Mai asked.

“I’d be amazed if they knew their mother’s name.”

Crouch’s cellphone rang once more, the tiny sound barely discernible. “Jump inside.” He waved everyone into the Jeeps and climbed in last. Drake kept an eye out to the rear but saw nothing beyond the burning chopper.

“Go,” Hayden said finally. “Just go. We’ll sort ourselves out later.”

The Jeeps pealed out, heading for the tarmacked road.

Finally, Crouch answered his phone. “What?”

It was only because Drake was looking straight at his old boss that he noticed the quick variation of expressions. Like changing seasons Crouch’s face went from relieved to surprised to shocked and then, surprisingly, to fearful.

Drake had never seen Michael Crouch looking scared before.

“Are… are you sure?” The voice came out low, just a croak.

Someone spoke for another twenty seconds.

“All… right… oh, my… all right…” Crouch’s voice cracked with almost every word.

Drake sat forward, consumed with worry.

“You okay?”

Crouch ignored him and finished the call. For an entire minute he stared down at the floor and then managed to collect himself. He looked up at those in the Jeep.

“We have big, big trouble,” he said. “I almost wish I’d never started this now.”

“What trouble?” Alicia asked. “What’s wrong, Michael?”

“I really don’t see how any of us can survive this.”

Drake almost gulped, affected by how Crouch was acting. “Tell us, mate.”

“It’s Luther,” Crouch breathed, voice barely a whisper and strained to maximum. “He’s here, in Egypt and locked on to our trail. We’re done.”

Drake frowned at him. “We’re never done. Not this team. Besides, we’re trying to stop an apocalypse here.”

“Luther is the apocalypse,” Crouch said. “With arms and legs. We can’t stop him. Can’t beat him. I’m sorry, my friends, but it’s just a matter of time until he finds and then kills us. All of us.”

Drake looked away from the already beaten gaze, stared at the desert skies and drifting clouds. Somewhere out there was a retro warrior, gunning for them with only one mission on his mind, one goal, removed from all communications, closing in by the minute. He could almost hear the approaching footsteps.

Judgment day was coming.