The Sacred Vault_ A Novel - Andy McDermott [152]
Eddie got up. Not all the ancient weapon’s arrows had fired, but he was still more than happy with the end result. Three twitching bodies were sprawled on the floor, so many arrows poking up from them that they looked like porcupines. ‘Bunch of pricks,’ he muttered, running to them and scooping up one of their guns.
Now that he was armed, he could find Nina and Kit. But there were still the other mercenaries to worry about, and if he called out to her he would give away his position. Instead, he went back towards the entrance.
Nina rushed through the shadows. She had meant to go back to reach Eddie, but was unable to find a route through the tightly packed treasures. All she could do was follow the side wall, heading for the back of the cavern.
And Mahajan was behind her, closing with every giant step.
Two mercenaries ran out in front of Eddie as he approached the entrance - and took bursts of bullets to their heads, the Englishman aiming above their body armour. He saw the ramp ahead, the open doors beyond it . . . and Khoil rising from the ledge as he was winched away.
Eddie dropped behind the incline and shot back as a mercenary outside opened fire. Zec sprinted for cover, but the other merc was caught in the open. With a more distant target, Eddie was forced to aim for the centre of mass rather than trying to score a lethal headshot, but the impact of the bullets was enough even against armour. The mercenary staggered, slipped on the snow - and fell over the edge. His echoing scream ended abruptly a couple of seconds later.
Eddie ran for the doors. He had spotted the chest, ready to be winched into the chopper. Nina would be mad, but shooting it to bits or flinging it over the edge would be one way to spoil Khoil’s plans—
A heel slammed into his back.
Tandon had been lurking behind the ramp, and made a flying leap from its raised end as Eddie ran past. If Eddie hadn’t been moving away from the punishing blow, it might have broken his spine. As it was, the impact was still hard enough to knock him down.
He rolled, bringing up the gun - only for Tandon to kick it out of his hand. Cobra-fast, the Indian struck again, his boot scraping Eddie’s cheek as the Englishman jerked out of the way.
He grabbed Tandon’s ankle, trying to twist it round and trip him, but Tandon threw himself into a somersault, wrenching his foot from Eddie’s grasp. He landed perfectly, spinning as the Englishman clumsily got up.
Zec aimed his MP5K at Eddie - but Tandon blocked his line of fire as he lunged, striking at a pressure point on his opponent’s chest. Only Eddie’s reflexes - and the thick padding of his coat - saved him from the paralysing punch, which hit a couple of inches off target but still felt like someone taking a hammer to his ribcage. He groaned, reeling.
Tandon spun again to deliver a high kick at Eddie’s head. This time, his foot made solid contact. Eddie spat out blood as the other man’s heel crunched against his jaw. Dazed, he staggered through the doors. Zec tracked him, but held his fire: his boss’s bodyguard wanted his fun.
Another kick, this time ploughing into Eddie’s stomach. He whooped for breath, almost collapsing - as Tandon struck once more, knuckles stabbing at his throat. Eddie brought up an arm just in time to block the blow, but it was still searingly painful.
A windstorm whirled around him as he stumbled towards the steps, the Dhruv moving into position above to winch up the chest. Any thoughts of sabotage were now forgotten as Eddie raised his fists. Tandon was fast, but if he caught him at just the right moment he could use the brute force of a punch to crush his nose, blinding him with pain, and toss him over the edge. He would still have Zec to worry about, but one problem at a time . . .
Tandon’s hand flashed at Eddie’s eyes. He swept up his bruised arm again to deflect the blow, then twisted with all his strength to smash his fist into