The Secret of Excalibur

She was on the opposite side of the balcony, watching as Mitchell fought the Russian in the long coat.

One of Zakhar’s kicks finally broke through the American’s defences, a heel smashing into Mitchell’s shin. He lurched, face twisting with pain. He knew another blow would be coming and tried to raise his arms to intercept it - but not quickly enough. Zakhar ploughed his knuckles into Mitchell’s throat. He collapsed, choking.

‘Jack!’ Nina cried, but the Russian stepped over him, one hand smoothing his long hair. He looked down at the broken weapon she was clutching.

‘Hello, sexy lady,’ he said. ‘Give me sword, please.’

Nina backed away. ‘I’d rather not.’

He pouted theatrically, running his hand through his hair once more. ‘Okay, I ask again.’ He pulled out his gun and pointed it at her. ‘Now give me sword. Please.’

Nina hesitated, and heard a sudden clash of metal - from above. She looked round, as did Zakhar - who was abruptly swept off his feet as Chase, swinging from a chandelier, scooped him up between his legs and sent him flying through one of the stained glass windows. He screamed as he fell, the shriek abruptly truncated by a breathless ‘Oof !’ as he slammed down on the roof of an outbuilding in the courtyard.

Chase had problems of his own. He was already spinning back out over the hall - and a sharp crack from above warned him that the chandelier was about to pull loose from the ceiling.

He flung himself at the other balcony . . .

And fell short.

Chase grabbed desperately at a tapestry as the chandelier tore free and smashed to the ground. One hand caught the edge of the thick cloth. Flailing for another handhold, he dangled from the tapestry some fifteen feet in the air . . .

Rrrrrrip.

‘Oh, shit.’ The cloth was tearing away from the beam on which it was hung. Even as he watched, the ragged gap raced across the width of the tapestry. ‘Oh, shit!’

Chase swung wildly as the tapestry tore. He was heading right at Maximov, whose arms were eagerly raised to grab and crush him—

He slammed his outstretched legs into Maximov’s chest.

There was a thud of impact, then Chase fell painfully to the floor. His kick had only knocked Maximov back, not down. The Russian was a bearded Terminator, seemingly invincible.

Nina ran over the shards of broken glass to help Mitchell. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Won’t be singing in the choir for a while,’ he wheezed, rubbing his bruised throat. ‘Where’s the sword?’

Nina held it up. ‘Right here.’

‘Eddie?’

‘Oh, Christ.’ Chase was scrambling on his back along the floor below, Maximov stomping after him. ‘Come on!’ She vaulted Mitchell and ran down the stairs as the Russian grabbed Chase and yanked him up like a child.

The armour she had knocked over was scattered all around, the man it had hit on all fours, just recovering. The Skorpion was inches from his hand. He looked up as he heard Nina’s footsteps—

She swung the knight’s shield at his head. There was a ringing thud of metal against bone, and he dropped to the floor. Another of Vaskovich’s mercenaries stood nearby, both hands clamped over his bloodied face; another swing, another clang, and he too went down.

Nina threw away the dented shield and picked up the gun. Across the hall, Maximov was busy slamming Chase repeatedly against a pillar. ‘Hey!’ she shouted.

Maximov turned his head, saw the gun - and threw Chase at her like a balding missile.

She tried to dodge, but he hit her shoulder, sending them both to the ground. The gun went off as she fell. The bullet ricocheted off something with a high-pitched twang.

Nina opened her eyes to see Maximov looking up cross-eyed at his own forehead. For a moment, a dull sheen of metal was visible behind the torn skin before blood flowed over it, dripping on to his nose. The huge Russian’s knees trembled and he slumped on to his backside with a thump. A vacant grin spread across his face.

It dawned on Nina that - for the moment - they had taken down all their opponents. But the buzz of a helicopter outside the broken window told her how the Russians had entered the castle - and that there were still others. ‘Come on, Eddie,’ she said, pulling him up, ‘gotta go, gotta go!’

Mitchell reached the bottom of the stairs, regarding the two fallen men with surprise. ‘You did that?’ he asked her, voice hoarse.

‘I’m a real bitch when anyone messes with my man,’ she said, grinning.

They ran outside and crossed the courtyard, seeing that the castle’s gates were now open. Two more trucks were parked near their SUV.

‘That was some pretty fancy martial arts back there,’ Nina said to Mitchell as they reached the Suburban. ‘Eddie usually just punches people.’

Mitchell rubbed his throat again. ‘Not fancy enough.’ He got into the driving seat, Nina helping her battered fiance into the back before running round the truck and hopping in the passenger seat. ‘Call the cops,’ Mitchell told her, tossing her his phone.

A shadow swept over them, the roar of the helicopter echoing round the courtyard as the Suburban set off. Chase tracked the aircraft as the SUV passed through the gates. ‘Chopper’s coming around.’

Nina looked up. ‘You think they’ve got guns?’

A snowbank at the roadside suddenly burst apart as a line of small explosions stitched through it. The helicopter buzzed overhead before pulling up sharply to turn for another pass. ‘Never mind!’ She shoved the sword hilt inside her jacket, fastened her seat belt and raised the phone. ‘What’s the emergency number in Austria?’

‘One three three,’ Mitchell told her, braking hard as the SUV approached the first hairpin turn. Even with four-wheel drive, the big vehicle still fishtailed on the snow.

‘Jesus, watch it!’ Chase warned. ‘You don’t want to roll us over—’

Bullet holes punched through the SUV’s bonnet with a plunk-plunk-plunk of cratered metal, followed a fraction of a second later by a bang as one of the front tyres blew out. The shredded wheel bit into the road surface, spinning the entire truck round and slamming it broadside-on into a bank of ploughed snow. The Suburban flipped over on to its roof, slithering to a halt at the very brink of a steep, snow-covered slope.

‘Told you,’ said Chase after a moment of silence.

He and Mitchell were both now on the cabin’s erstwhile ceiling. Nina awkwardly hung suspended by her seat belt, ponytail swishing back and forth against the roof beneath her. Through the cracked windscreen, all she could see were the dizzyingly inverted mountains across the valley and a blank white expanse dropping away to a thin line of trees - and what looked like a cliff edge just beyond them.

Chase, surrounded by the scattered items that had fallen from the SUV’s now open emergency compartment, peered out of the rear window. As well as the helicopter, he could hear another sound, a harsh rasp.

Rapidly growing louder.

‘Snowmobiles,’ he said. ‘They’re coming after us.’

Mitchell looked outside. ‘Where did the chopper go?’

‘Dunno, but it sounds like it’s coming back.’

‘Then we’d better get out of this thing,’ said Nina. She put one hand against the ceiling to support herself as best she could and raised the other to the seat-belt release—

Chase realised what she was about to do. ‘Nina, wait!’

Too late.

The buckle popped free, and Nina dropped heavily on to the roof . . .

The SUV shifted.

‘Oh, bollocks,’ Chase said as the overturned 4x4 tipped over the edge of the slope.

14

Nina stared in horror as the landscape through the windscreen tilted sharply - and started moving past her.

‘Nice one!’ Chase shouted sarcastically.