The Cult of Osiris

‘Oh, is “dancing lessons” a euphemism now?’

‘No, it’s actual dancing lessons! Hold on tight - one front ocho comin’ up!’

‘One what?’ Nina began, before Eddie turned her sharply round, then back again. Her heels clattered frantically over the floor. They ended up pressed face to face. ‘Whoa! So when - why did you learn to dance? You hate dancing!’

‘I wanted to surprise you. At the wedding reception.’

‘What wedding reception?’

‘The one I was going to sort out when I got some money, so we could actually have our family and friends there instead of just the Justice of the Peace! A bit late, I know, but I wanted to do something nice for you.’

‘Oh my God,’ said Nina, taken aback. ‘You actually learned how to dance, just for me? That’s . . . that’s so sweet.’

‘Oi,’ he warned. ‘Don’t smile. We’re supposed to hate each other.’

She clamped her mouth shut, trying to scowl rather than grin like a fool. ‘But why pick dancing?’

‘ ’Cause you only own maybe three DVDs, and two of ’em are about dancing. Dirty Dancing, Strictly Ballroom . . .’

‘Eddie, this is very lovely and romantic, but just because I like watching dancing doesn’t mean I can actually do it.’

He was surprised. ‘I thought you could!’

‘Livin’ proof that I can’t, right in front of you!’ She clumsily followed him as he turned, seeing Osir still watching . . . with growing mistrust. ‘Look, the zodiac’ll be ready by the time we go back to his yacht. We came into Monaco on a boat, a tender or whatever it’s called - it’s on pier twelve in the harbour. You can’t miss it - it’s painted the same colours as his racing cars. If you can follow it to his yacht—’

‘No way I’m going to leave you with him - he thinks he’s pulled!’

‘It’s the only way to find the pyramid. You’ve got to get out of here.’ An idea. ‘Slap me.’

Eddie was aghast. ‘I’m not going to bloody slap you!’

‘We’ve got to convince him we’ve split up.’ She raised her voice from the sotto level of their discussion, enough to be heard over the music as she attempted to twist free of his hold. ‘You son of a bitch! I was finished with you before, and I’m twice as finished now! Slap me,’ she added from the corner of her mouth, seeing Osir and Shaban approaching. ‘You - you needle-dicked limey asshole!’

Eddie’s face contorted in dismayed disbelief - then he slapped her. The blow wasn’t hard, but the crack was loud enough to catch everyone’s attention. ‘Sorry,’ he mumbled.

‘Sorry!’ she replied, just as surreptitiously, before shoving him back. The string quartet stopped mid-note, watching the disturbance.

Osir interposed himself between them. ‘I think you should leave, Mr Chase.’

‘You know what? You’re welcome to her,’ he snarled. ‘Crap party anyway.’

Shaban and Diamondback hurried over. ‘We’ll show him out,’ announced Shaban. The bodyguards lumbered through the crowd to surround Eddie. ‘The back way.’

‘Get your fucking hands off me,’ Eddie said as a suited goon grabbed his upper arm. He jerked away, only for another man to seize him from the other side.

‘You can throw him in the harbour for all I care,’ Nina shouted, horribly aware that Shaban undoubtedly planned something much worse. ‘Get the hell out of here, Eddie!’

That thought was foremost in Eddie’s mind. The first goon regained his hold on his arm, and they frogmarched him to the service door. Shaban and Diamondback followed right behind them, the latter with an expectant grin. If they got him out of sight of the casino’s visitors and staff, he would be seriously outnumbered and outgunned, as he doubted that Diamondback was the only armed member of Osir’s security team.

Twenty feet to the door, ten. It was a natural choke point - if both goons tried to hustle him through at once, their movements would be restricted enough to give him a chance to strike. But if they were halfway competent, they would be expecting it . . .

The door opened just before they reached it. A waiter stepped through, carrying a tray bearing several bottles of expensive wine.

He was quite a big guy, heavy—

With both goons still firmly holding his arms, Eddie suddenly hoisted his feet off the ground and kicked the waiter hard in the stomach.

The unfortunate man flew backwards, bottles falling - but Newton’s third law held true, the force of the impact knocking both Eddie’s captors back in reaction. They collided with Shaban and Diamondback. All five men tumbled to the floor in an unruly heap . . .

With Eddie on top.

He yanked his arms free, elbowing one man in the groin and rolling to a blackjack table. The service door was his best hope of escape - but before he could run through it swung shut, the lock clicking. No time to search the winded waiter for his key.

‘You fucker!’ Diamondback spat. The American flailed out from under the convulsing bodyguard, clawing for a revolver—

Eddie snatched a card shuffling machine from the table and fired a stream of cards into his face like angry moths. Diamondback threw up his hand to protect his eyes, the half-drawn revolver clunking to the carpet. Eddie hurled the shuffler at his head, scoring a solid-sounding hit, then ran for the entrance to the main lounge.

He risked a glance at Nina as he barged through the startled partygoers, seeing her quickly suppress an enthusiastic Go, Eddie! smile as he reached the doors.

16

The two men outside responded to the commotion as Eddie burst into the casino. He punched one backwards, but his companion lunged to tackle the troublemaker—

He suddenly fell on his face with a bang. Eddie leapt over him into the lounge, finding Macy just outside the door with one foot outstretched where she had tripped the attendant. ‘Thanks,’ he mouthed. She was about to follow him, but he firmly shook his head, gesturing for her to lose herself in the crowd before anyone realised they were together. Just escaping the casino on his own would be tricky enough.

She reluctantly backed away as Eddie rushed across the room between the startled gamblers. Behind, Shaban was screaming orders, Osir’s two other bodyguards thundering in pursuit. The pair of attendants at the courtyard entrance also ran to intercept him, weaving round the gaming tables.

The main doors - but casino security staff crashed through them, walkie-talkies crackling. All the gaming areas were closely monitored by CCTV to watch for cheats, whether punters or employees: the alarm had been raised the moment trouble started.

Boxed in. He needed a distraction—

A woman in the casino’s uniform was taking a tray of chips to a roulette table. Eddie ran to her - and kicked the tray. Its contents flew into the air, raining down on the surrounding tables like multicoloured hailstones.

The response was instant chaos.

The chips ranged in value from a few euros to tens of thousands - and everybody immediately lunged to grab the latter. A woman screamed as the man beside her knocked her from her stool, and there was a huge crash of glass as a drinks trolley overturned. A blackjack dealer shrieked as her table toppled to the floor in another cascade of scattering chips. The two bodyguards were caught in the scrum of snatching hands.

The near-riot had also cut the security guards off from Eddie - and him from the exits. He clawed through the crowd, looking for a new escape route.

‘Get that bastard!’ Diamondback roared, barging into the room with another of Osir’s bodyguards. His gun was in his hand, anger overcoming any thought of keeping a low profile.

Eddie ploughed forward. Something solid clunked against his foot. A champagne bottle from the trolley. He bent and snatched it up - a club was better than no weapon at all - then saw a clear route out of the money-crazed mob beneath a roulette table.

He rolled under it, scrambling along on his knees as he tore off the foil and unwound the wire cage holding the cork. Shouted French from behind told him that the security guards had lost track of their target. Emerging from