The Tomb of Eternity

CHAPTER TWELVE

Hawke picked Lea up and ran from the burning building, screaming at Ryan to do the same with Alex. The rage flowed through him like molten lava as he made his way to safety, but he fought it back and kept his focus.

Now, he held Lea’s limp body in his arms as he emerged from the smoky ruins, gripping her tightly as the building blazed behind him. To his right, Ryan Bale dragged Alex and staggered out of the smoke, coughing violently as he struggled to heave some fresh air back into his lungs. All around them the swirling Russian snow added an extra degree of chaos to an already terrible moment.

“Is she okay, Joe?” Ryan wobbled over to Hawke, his face smeared with soot from the fire. He took off his glasses and wiped his stinging eyes.

Hawke didn’t reply, but instead he lowered Lea gently to the ground and gave her the kiss of life.

Nothing.

He did it again. This was basic training to a man like Hawke. It didn’t matter that he knew how bad the statistics were. He had to save her life. Again, he took a deep breath, pinched her nose and blew into her mouth, manually inflating her lungs. This was essential to cardiopulmonary resuscitation, designed to restore the flow of oxygenated blood to the unconscious person before they suffered any long-term effects from a lack of oxygen.

But still nothing.

He did it again. He pinched her nose and inflated her lungs, and then once again performed the chest compressions. Ryan looked on in horror, and then finally unable to watch any more he stood up and spun around, his hands on his head, lost, in shock.

“This can’t be happening…” he mumbled.

“Focus, Ryan,” Hawke said coolly. “Check on Alex.”

Still coughing, Ryan lurched over to Alex while Hawke persisted with Lea, but she was still silent and motionless below him in the Russian snow.

He stared at her face, streaked with soot, and her blackened, tangled hair. One more time, he told himself, and went through the process of insufflation and chest compressions once again.

And then she came to life.

Coughing hard, and moaning, her head moved from side to side as she tried to sit up. Hawke gently pushed her back to the ground. “Take it easy…”

“We’ve got company, Joe,” Ryan said.

In the distance Hawke heard the sound of more shooting.

“Sorry, but it’s time for us to go,” Hawke said. “Sounds like Dempsey’s making headway at the hangar.”

Ryan shook his head. “Joe… I’m sorry but I can’t carry Alex…”

“All right, chill out.”

Hawke considered the situation for a few seconds and then worked out he could carry both Lea and Alex in a double fireman’s lift — one on each shoulder. He’d once seen an SAS corporal do it in the African jungle and he wasn’t going to be outdone by someone from Twenty-Two.

“I’m going to carry both, but I’m going to need you to help support one of them, right?”

Ryan seemed unsure. “Okay…”

“Then we’re going to shoot some more twats, yeah?”

Ryan nodded, and helped take some of the weight by holding Alex in place. With considerable effort, they made their way through the snow to the hangar’s rear door. They looked cautiously through the open roller door at the front onto the expansive snow-covered lawns to the south of the house. Dempsey was there on his own, desperately holding back an assault by more of Vetrov’s men.

Hawke lowered Lea and Alex, both of whom were starting to come back to life, and jogged over to the former Green Beret. “What happened to Phillips and Zimmerman?”

Dempsey clenched his jaw and looked Hawke straight in the eyes. “They didn’t make it. Phillips got taken out in an ambush outside Vetrov’s office and Zimmerman…”

“What?”

Dempsey shut his eyes as if he were trying to rub out the very idea of what he was about to say — to destroy even the memory of it. “Zimmerman was blasted into the water by the shock of a grenade. The last I saw of him one of those damned bastard crocodiles was dragging him under the surface.”

Lea was on her feet now, and joined them.

Hawke took her by her shoulders. “Are you sure you’re all right now?”

“Me? Sure I am. Just took a little nap back there but I’m right up in their faces again now.” She mimed shooting people with her fingers.

Hawke looked at her, unconvinced, but knew there was no option but to press on.

“Look!” Lea shouted. “Looks like Vetrov has stopped enjoying our company.”

Hawke looked and saw the Russian making his way through the snow to one of the choppers. He was flanked on either side by a handful of his goons, armed to the teeth with submachine guns.

“Look at those bastards,” Dempsey said. “Looks like they’re ready for the Battle of Stalingrad.”

“They’ve got every kind of weapon under the sun!” said Lea.

Hawke frowned. “They’ve got more than that — they’ve got all of Alex’s research on her flash-drive, and Mazzarro’s details as well. With that, they’ll be able to translate the map and get to the source of eternal life. Damn it all!”

“But they haven’t got the actual map, right?” said Dempsey.

“Not yet they haven’t, but I’m not going to bet against Vetrov right now. He’s obviously well-connected and he knows Lexi and the others are in Berlin because we know he’s the one who killed Sorokin.”

“And that’s why we have to get that flash-drive back and stop him from getting to Mazzarro,” Lea said.

Ryan spoke next: “And we need to contact Scarlet and tell her to get Lexi and the map the hell out of Berlin before Vetrov’s men catch up with them.”

“So what’s your plan?” Dempsey asked Hawke.

“We need to get out of here or we’re fish in a barrel. We’ll go around the back of the hangar through the office door over there and attack from two fronts. When we get there you take out the Bell and we’ll use the Kamov as our escape route, leaving Vetrov with no way out of this blizzard.”

“The office door is locked,” Dempsey said. “I tried to blast through with this but it was no good.” He showed Hawke the only weapon he had left — a small pistol.

“No fucking problem at all,” Hawke growled, and cocked the pump-action Remington with one hand. He was still thinking about Lea almost dying back at the library.

“Here we go again…” Lea said.

Hawke aimed the Remington at the door and fired three Hatton breaching rounds into the heavy, locked door in just four seconds — top hinge, handle lock, bottom hinge, and booted the door out of the way. An old technique he’d learned back in his Special Boat Service days. Any locked door on the floor in seconds.

Leaving Ryan and Alex behind, they ran into the blast of icy air and were outside again, where they split into two teams, Hawke and Lea on one side and Dempsey on the other, each approaching the choppers from opposite ends of the hangar.

The fire-fight was short. Not expecting assaults from two different directions, Vetrov and his men retreated to the dacha to regroup and re-arm. Seizing the moment, Dempsey fired a burst of submachine gun fire into the Bell’s fuel tanks and sent it up in a massive fireball. The smoke poured out of the wreckage and gave them a few seconds of cover.

“Now!” Hawke screamed. “Everyone into the other chopper!”

They climbed in the helicopter and fired her up. Hawke looked over the instrument panel display and made a quick check while Lea and Ryan helped Alex into the back seat. Dempsey started firing at the main entrance to the house while Hawke hovered the Kamov a few feet above the icy tarmac.

“Now, Dempsey! We have to go!”

“Those bastards took out two of my men!” screamed the American as he sprayed a vicious volley of submachine gun fire at Vetrov’s grand entrance, taking out several of his men. He turned to climb into the helicopter when Vetrov carefully aimed a pistol at him and shot him through the throat.

Hawke watched in horror as Dempsey’s eyes widened and then blinked maniacally as he took in what had happened to him. He raised his hands to clasp at the blood pouring from his throat, but it spilled out onto the snow, unstoppable. Hawke leaned over to grab his hand, but a second shot from Vetrov ripped through the former Green Beret’s chest and blew his heart out. He collapsed into the snow like a matchstick man.

Now the smoke began to clear, and Vetrov screamed orders at his men to move forward and retake the remaining helicopter. With no time to think, Hawke lifted the collective, raising the Russian military chopper into the air amidst a barrage of machine gun fire from Vetrov and his men.

They gained altitude fast and a second later they were out of sight, flying up into the swirling snowstorm.