Ready to take the cavern and its contents by force.
33
Eddie saw the Hind through the cave mouth. Even with the water still partially obscuring it, he picked out the colours of the Venezuelan flag. ‘It’s Stikes!’
‘What?’ said Nina in utter disbelief. ‘How the hell could he know we’re here?’
The aircraft moved out of sight. ‘What is going on?’ Zender demanded, caught between confusion and fear. ‘That helicopter - it was Venezuelan!’
‘It used to be one of yours, but it’s gone into the private sector,’ Eddie said grimly. He turned to the two soldiers. ‘You and you – with me, quick!’ The three men hurried away down the steps.
Zender still wanted answers. ‘Tell me what is happening!’
‘Stikes used the helicopter’s weapons to block the river and cut off the waterfall,’ Mac told him. ‘It’ll make it easier for his people to get into the cave.’
‘Who is Stikes?’
‘A mercenary,’ said Nina. ‘He was part of the attempted coup in Venezuela – and it looks like he’s trying to make up for not getting paid by raiding this place.’
Juanita was scared. ‘What – what about the soldiers we left outside?’
‘They’re dead,’ Mac replied bluntly. ‘And we will be too unless Eddie and your other men can hold them off.’
‘You don’t sound confident,’ said Kit.
The Hind came back into view outside. ‘We
Eddie and the two soldiers raced downhill through the narrow streets. They passed the tombs, seeing the reservoir ahead. ‘Where are we going?’ asked Lieutenant Echazu.
‘There’s only one way into this cave,’ Eddie answered. ‘We need to make sure nobody comes up that tunnel.’
‘We? But you do not have a gun!’
‘I’ve got a water pistol, sort of.’ They reached the edge of the hidden city, the ground sloping more steeply down to the shaft. ‘Okay, cover that hole.’
The soldiers split up to take positions overlooking the entrance. ‘What are you doing?’ shouted the corporal, Chambi, seeing Eddie running to the shaft itself.
‘Making sure they get the point!’ he said as he jumped down to the booby trap’s trigger slab. There was a rasp of stone, but it stayed in place.
More sounds echoed up the passage. He looked down, seeing torchlight glinting off the silver spikes. The intruders were already at the bottom of the shaft – and he had left them an easy way up. The hanging rope suddenly pulled tight as someone started to climb it.
He jumped down to the next step. Below was the ledge with the three jaguar heads. Another look over the edge – and he saw a man on the first ledge.
Eddie dropped flat on the cramped step, reaching down with one hand. The two jaguar heads that he had left untouched were just within his grasp, but the third, lowered to deactivate the trap, was a couple of inches beyond his fingertips. Swearing under his breath, he leaned further out. The man on the rope was already climbing to the second step—
A torch beam flashed across his face. Someone shouted in Spanish. The climber looked up, saw him – and dropped back down to the first step, reaching for the AK-47 across his back.
Eddie lunged, grabbing the stone jaguar and yanking it upwards – then rolled back as the Kalashnikov roared. Bullets smacked against the wall, sending ricochets screaming up the shaft. The noise was horrific in the confined space.
The thunder faded to echoes, then to nothing. The AK’s magazine was empty. He heard metallic clicks from below as the gunman kept pulling the trigger.
Not one of Stikes’s men, then – a professional would already be changing the mag. No time to wonder who he might be, though. Instead Eddie leapt and grabbed the rope, swinging round to plant his soles against the shaft’s side as he scrambled up. He couldn’t touch the trigger slab on the step above.
Eddie heaved himself over the ledge and swung sideways on the rope, thumping against the back wall as another burst of gunfire hammered up the shaft. He was barely an inch above the slab, his leather jacket brushing the stone. A sharp chunk of metal hit his cheek – a bullet had blown the tip off a spike. He flinched, almost falling, straining to hold on . . .
The firing stopped. The rope juddered in his hands as the man below grabbed it and started to climb after him.
Eddie jerked back into motion, pulling himself rapidly up the shaft. He clambered out and drew his knife. The rope was still bar-taut with the gunman’s weight; he sawed at it, threads fraying—
It snapped. A yell of fright came from below as the climber fell – followed by a terrible scream as he hit the spikes. The agonised shrieks continued as the man flailed, trying to drag himself off the spears tearing into his flesh. He succeeded – only to plummet down the shaft. The crack of shattering bone as his jaw caught the edge of a step was almost as sharp as the Kalashnikov’s shots.
The sound was followed by the real thing as the dead man’s companions fired up the shaft. Eddie ran – not
