The Sacred Vault_ A Novel - Andy McDermott [32]
The Spaniard and his second in command ran to the back of the Nemesis. The case containing their prize lay inside, scuffed but otherwise undamaged by its roller coaster ride across the city. They lifted it out—
Engine noise, approaching fast. The strident rasp of a Honda XR650R.
‘I don’t believe it!’ said Fernandez, exasperated. An all too familiar single headlight was racing straight for them. He called to the remaining man as he and Zec carried the case to the jetty. ‘Kill that bastard!’
The biker took up position between the Nemesis and the approaching motorbike, readying his gun.
Eddie spotted the lights of the stationary Nemesis by the waterfront. Figures faded into view through the murk as he approached.
One was in a firing stance—
Another burst of bullets seared at him.
He dropped as low as he could as a round cracked against the Honda’s front fairing, blowing out the headlight and spitting fragments into his face - and another shot tore into the front wheel. The tyre exploded, rubber flapping as it sheared off the steel rim. The handlebars were wrenched from his grip as the bike went into an uncontrollable slide.
Eddie threw himself off. He yelled in pain as he hit the boardwalk and skidded across the wet wood, clothes ripping. The Honda tumbled onwards . . .
Straight at the Nemesis.
The gunman tried to jump out of the way—
Too late. The bike slammed him into the parked 4x4 with back-breaking force. The Honda’s fuel tank ripped open on the Nemesis’s rear bullbar, metal sparking against metal.
The bike exploded, the blast kicking the Nemesis’s back end up into the air - just as the off-roader’s own far larger fuel tank detonated. A fireball surged across the boardwalk, the blazing Nemesis flipping end over end over the waterfront railings to smash down on top of one of the speedboats, crushing the men inside it down into the marina’s dark waters.
The explosion knocked Zec off his feet and sent Fernandez reeling. The case fell. It landed on the jetty’s edge, wobbling precariously on the brink. Fernandez lunged for it—
It dropped off the edge, hitting the water with a flat splash. For a moment it seemed it would float . . . then the sea swallowed it.
Fernandez looked down at the ripples in horror. So close to success, literally seconds from escape - and now the treasure was lost! Jaw set in anger, he spun to find the man who had ruined everything.
Roaring like a charging bull, Eddie tackled him to the dock.
Aching from his hard landing, suit and skin torn, singed by the fireball, the Englishman was driven by fury. His opponent was still wearing his crash helmet, but there were plenty of other places he could land a painful blow - as Fernandez discovered an instant later when he was punched hard in the groin.
‘You fucker!’ Eddie snarled, slamming him down hard on the planks. ‘Teach you to fucking shoot at me, you gimp-suited bast—’
Zec’s boot smashed into his side, knocking him off the fallen raider. Eddie landed on his back, winded. Zec kicked him again, then pulled Fernandez to his feet—
A shotgun blast boomed from the street.
Searing lead shot ripped through Fernandez’s leathers and burned into his upper back. The Spaniard howled, falling again, convulsing in agony. He had shielded Zec from most of the blast, but the Bosnian still took several pellets to one arm. Zec staggered backwards, clutching the wounds.
Nina’s police car crashed on to the boardwalk, Boyce leaning from the window with the shotgun in his hands. ‘Eat that, you cocksuckers!’ he howled, racking the slide.
‘Aim higher!’ Nina told him. ‘Don’t hit my husband!’ The mayor fired again. ‘Higher! Aim higher, idiot!’
Zec hesitated, looking at Fernandez, then dived into the remaining speedboat as another burst of red-hot buckshot seared through the mist. ‘Go!’ he bellowed at the man at the controls.
‘But Urbano—’
‘There’s nothing