The Sacred Vault_ A Novel - Andy McDermott [149]
Releasing the slings.
The wheel was mounted on the axle a few degrees off vertical. As it turned, it swayed from side to side - hurling the stones across the cavern in a deadly bombardment. They flew over the ramp, barely missing the vimana at its summit . . . and smashed down at the entrance.
Zec threw Khoil aside as a head-sized chunk of rock arced down and shattered where he had been standing.
Others were less lucky. One mercenary was hit in the face with a sharp crack of splintering bone. Another took a blow to the chest, his bulletproof body armour no defence against the force of the rock that punched razor-sharp fragments of broken ribs into his heart. The other men scrambled for cover.
Vanita screamed for the winch operator to raise her as more stones bounced off the floor and flew out on to the ledge. Tandon flung himself out of the way as pieces hurtled past them. One of the mercenaries who had brought out the chest was struck on his knee, the joint bending backwards with a horrible snap and pitching him over the edge. The helicopter, an Indian-built Dhruv, ascended, yanking Vanita off the ledge.
The chest sat near the edge, stones skimming past it.
Shankarpa pointed back into the Vault. ‘Go!’ he shouted to Eddie as he leapt up and sprinted for the doors.
Eddie pulled Kit upright, vaulting into the gap between the ramp’s sides and dragging the Interpol agent after him. ‘We’ve got to find Nina!’ he said as he hauled him down the narrow channel. Ahead, he saw the stack of black rockets, the first burning brazier beyond. Nobody was chasing them - yet. But the confusion wouldn’t last long. With nobody to reload it, the sarvato-bhadra was limited to a single salvo.
Nina abandoned the war machine - the stones had passed harmlessly over the three men pursuing her. She fled deeper into the Vault.
Shankarpa raced for the open doors. A mercenary fired at him, but he was already through. He saw the chest at the top of the broken steps, but could do nothing about it. Instead, he ran past it as fast as he could.
Jumping—
Cold air whistled in his ears as he sailed over the gap, seventy feet of nothingness beneath him . . .
His foot reached the very edge of the topmost tier. He was moving too fast to stop, slamming against the wall and tumbling to the snow-covered floor. He forced himself back up and ran again, heading for one of the arched openings.
A roar of engines echoed through the valley - the MD 500, swooping down—
He dived through the entrance as bullets tore into the ancient carvings behind him. The shooting stopped, but the rotor noise remained constant. The gunship was waiting for him to reappear, the gunner assuming the chamber had only one way out.
He was wrong. Shankarpa headed into the darkness, the image of his father’s face filling him with a furious demand for vengeance.
The guardians of the Vault of Shiva would carry out their duty. To the last man.
The clatter of stones died away. Khoil cautiously looked out from behind the statue where Zec had thrown him, straightening his glasses. The three prisoners had disappeared - but the chest was still in sight outside. The empty harness reappeared, flapping in the rotor downwash as the Dhruv returned.
‘I - I think it would be best if I went to the helicopter next,’ he told Zec. ‘But have the chest sent up immediately after.’
‘As you wish,’ said Zec, concealing his contempt for his employer’s near-panic. ‘When it’s aboard, shall I evacuate the rest of the men?’
‘Yes.’ Khoil hurried to the doors.
The Bosnian followed him. ‘What about Wilde and Chase?’
The names made Khoil flare with anger. ‘Find them and kill them!’ He calmed, rationality regaining control. ‘If they are still alive by the time the Vedas are aboard the helicopter, we will evacuate - and use rockets to collapse the entrance.