Eddie returned to the stairwell. No sounds of activity above or below. He didn’t know how long he would have before the guard was missed, so he quickly ascended to the top floor.
There was only one route he could follow, which brought him to the lift. A man was waiting for it; he glanced casually at Eddie as he came through the stairwell door, then did a slight double-take. Eddie concealed his concern - the man didn’t seem alarmed, just mildly puzzled by his appearance - and gave him a polite nod, keeping his head turned to conceal the earpiece. The lift arrived just as he passed it; the man boarded without looking back.
The strong scent of yeast hit his nostrils as he entered the next room. ‘Smells like a baker’s armpit in here,’ he said. The opposite wall was glass, giving him a view of the space beyond. The lab was right under the pyramid’s cap, the walls rising to meet almost at a point; above was the spotlight sending its beam towards the pole star.
There was only one person inside the chamber, his back to Eddie as he examined an object on a workbench.
One of many objects, all identical. More stainless steel containment flasks, all bearing the biohazard symbol.
‘Shit,’ Eddie hissed. ‘You seeing this? There must be fifty of the fucking things!’
‘Oh, my God,’ Nina said quietly. ‘Shaban’s big event, it’s not just a ceremony - it’s a
‘So quickly?’ asked Assad in disbelief. ‘He only left the tomb four days ago!’
Eddie surveyed the lab, taking in the large vats used to culture the yeast, the ovens to dry it and extract the spores. The canopic jar, now open, stood inside a glass cabinet. ‘Psycho billionaires never hang about with this kind of stuff, do they?’ He noticed that the ovens were fed by large tanks of compressed gas. A good place to start an explosion . . .
If he could get to them. The lab’s inner door had a keycard lock, and the windows were designed to contain a biohazard - handgun fire would only scuff them.
‘How’s he going to get in?’ he heard Macy ask, but he was already heading for the door. He reached out—
And knocked.
The triple-glazed window absorbed the sound. He rapped harder, finally catching the scientist’s attention.
‘Open the door,’ Eddie mouthed, gesturing for him to come over.
The scientist frowned, but came to the door. He said something, voice barely audible through the glass. Eddie had basic lip-reading skills, but couldn’t make out his words, the scientist presumably speaking in a foreign language. Nevertheless, he smiled and nodded.
The man frowned again, bewildered, and swiped his card through the lock. The door slid open. ‘Hi there,’ said Eddie.
The scientist switched to English on hearing his voice. His accent was thickly Germanic. ‘What did you say?’
‘I said, “You’re fucked.” ’ Before the man could do anything more than blink in surprise, Eddie yanked him forward to slam his head against the door jamb. The scientist collapsed.
‘Ah . . . are you just going to leave him there?’ Nina asked as he dumped the unconscious man behind a lab bench. ‘I mean, you’re planning to blow the place up.’
‘He’s making a bioweapon, so fuck him.’ Picturing the disapproving expression accompanying his wife’s frosty silence, he relented, slightly. ‘Okay, I’ll drag him downstairs when I go. Happy now?’
‘Not until you’re out of there in one piece.’
He grinned, then turned his attention to the gas tanks. There was a space between them; he activated the detonation circuit of one cigarette-packet-sized block of C-4, then slid the explosive into the gap. ‘Hmm.’
‘What?’ Nina asked.
‘Bit obvious. Hang on.’ The large steel ovens beside the tanks were open. He reached to the back of one and felt beneath the perforated gas pipe. It was greasy and sooty, but there seemed to be enough room. The second pack armed, he forced it down out of sight. ‘There.’
‘So now what?’
‘Now,’ he said, taking the scientist by his arms, ‘I get out of the pyramid, push the button and blow this place to buggery.’
‘What about all the people in the temple?’ Macy asked. ‘Won’t they all get crushed?’
‘I’m tempted to say fuck ’em too, but there’s a couple of floors in between,’ he told her as he dragged the man to the door. ‘Unless this thing’s built of cheese and moonbeams, those C-4 packs aren’t big enough to bring the whole place down. The top won’t be a nice sharp point any more, though.’
‘Just make sure you’re not inside,’ said Nina. ‘And don’t forget Grant.’
‘Hey, he’s still technically a client,’ he said, using the scientist’s keycard to open the door and hauling him through. ‘Wouldn’t do my job prospects much good if I lost one, would it?’ He backed across the room, bumping open the door with his backside to enter the lobby.
A chime sounded.
The lift.
Eddie dropped the scientist and whirled, pulling out his gun—
Too late.
A pair of guards had come from the stairs, weapons pointed at him, and two more armed men rushed from the lift. Broma and Lorenz.
Knowing he had no chance of surviving a four-way shootout, Eddie froze, dropping the gun. ‘Arse.’
‘Chase,’ said Shaban, stepping out between his two bodyguards. His scarred face clenched with anger - and sadistic pleasure. ‘Just in time for our ceremony . . .’
30
Nina stared in horror at the screen as Shaban’s hand swelled to fill the camera’s field of view - and it went black.
‘Shit!’ she gasped. ‘We’ve got to get him out of there!’
‘I can’t,’ said Assad, dismayed. ‘The ASPS don’t have authorisation to act until we know the zodiac’s there.’
‘Grant said it is,’ protested Macy. ‘Isn’t that enough?’
‘No, we need visual proof - which is what your husband was supposed to find!’ he snapped at Nina.
‘Dammit!’ She ran to the truck’s open rear door and looked helplessly along the lakeside at the castle - then remembered something and switched her headset’s channel to the phone. ‘Grant! Can you hear me? Grant!’
A rustle of fabric, then: ‘Yeah, I’m here.’
‘Grant, they’ve caught Eddie! You’ve got to get out of there . . .’ An idea. ‘Your phone! If you take a picture of the zodiac, the Egyptians can move in.’
‘Wait - they’ve caught Eddie? Shit!’ The actor’s usual laid-back drawl frayed into near panic.
‘Grant, Grant, just listen!’ Nina shouted. ‘Go into the relic room and take a photo of the zodiac, and we can rescue you and Eddie!’ She glanced at Assad for confirmation that a cell phone picture would be enough; he nodded.
‘Okay. Rescue. Good idea.’ She heard his footsteps as he crossed the lounge - then a sudden
The sound of a door opening, then a voice: ‘Mr Thorn?’
‘Y-yeah?’
‘The ceremony is about to begin. Come with us.’
‘Come with you three guys?’ said Grant. ‘Sure. My own personal escort, huh? Cool.’
Nina realised what he was telling her - surrounded by three men, he wouldn’t be able to take a picture of the zodiac.
And without one . . . he and Eddie were on their own.
