The Sword of Fire

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Ryan faced the two men. The mechanic was closer to him and swung the wrench, but he remembered everything the others had taught him and he ducked out of the way and sidestepped the blow. Still in the moment, he powered his left fist up into the man’s ribs and winded him hard, forcing him to drop the wrench.

The only thing faster than Ryan snatching up the wrench was the smile dropping from Bruno’s smug face, but it was too late to save his friend. Ryan spun around three-sixty to gather speed and momentum and then smashed the mechanic in the temple with the wrench, knocking him clean out.

Bruno cursed in Italian and rushed the young man, swinging a chunky punch at him. He was faster than the mechanic and this time Ryan’s only evasive manouvre failed and the blow hit the target.

He felt the strike on the side of his head and then a boot curled around the front of his ankle and hooked his foot out from under him. He lost his balance and fell backwards, helped on his way by another colossal punch on the side of his head.

The young hacker hit the smooth hard floor and nearly got knocked out with the impact. Hearing the Italian’s boots as they slapped down on the polished concrete, he scrambled up to his feet and reached out for anything he could get his hands on. The closest thing with any value as a weapon was a countersink cutter perched on the edge of a workbench.

Ryan snatched up it up and swung it at Bruno. The Italian flicked his head back to dodge the two kilo rivet shaver and both men realized at the same time that the saw was still connected to the mains.

Ryan pulled the trigger and the business end of the tool whirred around at over twenty thousand revs per minute.

Bruno desperately scanned the workshop for something he could use to fight back, and the answer came in the form of a high-speed panel saw down on the floor beside the unconscious aviation mechanic. The Italian snatched it up and gave his opponent a fiendish grin as he pulled the trigger. The diamond cutting wheel spun around at twelve thousand revs per minute.

Ryan took a sidestep and evaluated the situation. Both tools would kill the other man in an instant and make a damned bloody job of it too, but he knew that the Italian had a massive physical advantage. Since Maria’s death he had been working out but he was nowhere near ready to take on an ex-military man like Bruno.

At least he had the rivet shaver, and he revved it in his hands as he scanned around to see if anyone else on the team was near, but there was no one. This was a fight to the death, and if he made one mistake it would be his own, but Bruno was nothing like the overweight mechanic.

The Italian moved like lightning, and before Ryan knew what had happened he had kicked the rivet shaver out of his hand and punched him to the floor. He tried to roll away but Bruno jumped on top of him, pinning him down with his knees, and then the man from Naples revved the diamond cutter. “This is going to hurt you a lot more than me.”

Lea looked at Kruger with nothing but contempt. She thought she had hated him enough after what he had done to Ryan on the Seastead, but now she had learned about his teaming up with the Oracle as some kind of lackey she realized there was a whole new level of hate in her heart.

Kruger grinned like an old crocodile. “Take the sword to Miss Donovan, Adem!”

Lea watched Vermaak pick up the old leather bag and walk it over to her as if it contained nothing more than some tennis rackets. He set it down beside her and after giving Hawke a scowl he padded back over to the space behind his boss.

Kruger sniffed and shifted in his seat. “So there it is.”

Zito took a step back and moved around behind the desk.

“Why is it glowing like this?” Lea said.

Kruger shrugged. “I don’t know, but I know a man who does.” He laughed, and then the gang of men around him joined in for a moment. They hushed up when he spoke again. “It has something to do with the way static electricity becomes current electricity in a thunderstorm, only this sword magnifies the process like a motherfucker.”

“You mean like a Van de Graaff generator?” Hawke said.

Kruger gave Vermaak a nod and the South Afircan commando piled a machine pistol into Hawke’s stomach and sent him to the floor, gasping for air. “If I’d meant that I would have said so, you bastard.”

“Thanks for clearing that up,” Hawke coughed, and clambered to his feet.

“You bastards know nothing,” Kruger snapped. “All around us in the air, water vapor is hanging on tiny, microscopic pieces of dust, and in that water is where the static electricity is stored. Imagine that — as much electrical power as you could ever want, right in front of your face. It’s one of the holy grails of the environmentalist lobbies — trying to turn the static electricity into a live, usuable current.”

“And that’s what you think this sword does?” Reaper said.

“So I'm told, yes… and in a big fucking way.”

Lea and Hawke shared a look, and then she said, “So what do you want me to do?”

“I want you to pick it up — by the grip.”

“She’s not doing it,” Hawke said. His hand involuntarily brushed against the engagement ring box and his mind turned to the proposal. Watching Lea get electrocuted to death wasn’t part of the plan.

“Hush now, Hawke. Don’t be a silly boy.” Another sniff. “She opens the bag and wields the sword or Vermaak here cuts you all down with the MP5.”

To undercore the point, the commando slid a round into the chamber and raised the muzzle in their direction. He wedged the weapon’s stock in his hip and gave them a grin and a wink. “Go on, please give me just one chance and I’ll spray your insides all over that pretty bookcase.”

“I hope you don’t kiss your mother with that mouth,” Mack said.

“Just once chance — I beg you.”

“Enough, Vermaak! Enough of this bullshit. Donovan — open the bag and lift the sword or you die right here, right now and I find some other little angel to do it for me… and if you try anything funny you’ll be dead before that thing farts a single thunderbolt, got it?”

Lea ignored him, but dropped her eyes down to the bag. The sword was partly wrapped in the cloth they had seen when it was back in the tomb, and it was still glowing. Hawke had been right — it was the same sort of light they had seen back in Atlantis and her heart began to quicken as she wondered what the connection might be.

Her speculation was ended abruptly by Kruger barking at her to hurry up, and then her eyes turned to the two dead men on the floor just a few meters away — stone cold corpses because they had attempted to lift the sword.

Hawke moved closer to her and held her arm, but she brushed him away. “You know how electricity works, ya eejit.”

Reaper gave her a look of serious respect and admiration as she put her hand in the bag and wrapped her hand around the grip.

She felt a jolt, but it was gentle, like when she was a kid in Galway and they dared each other to touch the low-voltage electric fences holding the cows back. A warmth crept up her arm and she squeezed her hand around the grip, and she gasped gently as the blue glow from the sword began to creep into her hand and turn it the same shade of neon blue.

She released the sword and jumped back, but Kruger wasn’t satisfied. His eyes were sparkling like black diamonds. “Do it again, and this time wield the sword properly.”

She glanced at the machine pistol in Vermaak’s hands and obeyed, wrapping her hand around the sword’s grip. It was easier the second time, and she watched the blue creep over her hand and up her forearm not with fear, but with fascination. “It feels so warm.”

Kruger took a step back. “Wield it! In the air.”

“Maybe I should wait outside,” Zito said.

“You’ll wait where I fucking tell you!” Kruger snapped. “Now — do it, Donovan!”

Lea obeyed again, and lifted the sword. It was heavy, but she could just about manage to hold it aloft. It began to vibrate in her hand and she got scared. “Joe…”

“Just let go!”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Kruger said.

Suddenly a bolt of lightning shot up from the tip of the sword and crawled all over the ceiling like blue fire. They could all feel the power, a strange sort of static crackling in the air and now the sword began to judder more severely.

“None of my men got this far,” said Kruger, glancing at the corpses strewn on the floor. “Maybe you’ll survive it.”

Then an immense burst of power shot along the blade of the sword and forked out into two bolts. The first reached out to Reaper and Mack who were now standing closest to her and knocked them both for six, and the second snaked up in a loop and raced back down the blade, blasting Lea off her feet. She lost her grip on the sword as she flew backwards and the ancient weapon fell to the floor with a chunky smack.

“Pick that thing up, Adem,” Kruger said. “The Oracle wants it before nightfall.”

Lea was dazed, and stared up at the blackened, smouldering ceiling as if she was on drugs. She was dimly aware of Hawke running to her and helping her up, but she felt numb and sick.

Kruger looked at the unconscious Reaper and Mack and then kicked the Scotsman in the ribs. He looked over at Hawke and Lea. “And bring those two pricks as well.”

“Where are we going?” Hawke asked, helping Lea to her feet.

Kruger took a deep breath and stared at them. “We have a world to shock with the greatest terror attack in history.”