Empire of Gold

After another agonising few seconds, the man finally moved his eye back to the sight. Eddie carefully climbed the last few rungs to crouch on the platform just behind the sniper . . .

Then he lunged, grabbing the mercenary’s head and yanking it back as hard as he could, wrapping an arm tightly round his throat.

The sniper made a choked gurgling sound, dropping the SCAR and trying to claw at his attacker’s face. Eddie squeezed harder, twisting sharply – and a crunch of crushed cartilage came from the sniper’s neck, followed by the muffled snap of bone. The man went limp.

Eddie dropped him and caught the SCAR by its strap just before it tipped over the platform’s edge. He lay beside the dead man, recognising him as Voeker, and quickly and expertly checked the gun. A full load of thirty 5.56mm rounds, and the scope was a high-quality night vision unit, a sharp red chevron superimposed over the centre of the shimmering green image.

He lined up the chevron’s point on Stikes’s head. The mercenary leader was completely unaware of him, a sitting duck. All he had to do was pull the trigger . . .

It wasn’t mercy that stopped his finger from tightening – he had already decided that Stikes was going to die. Instead, it was the urge to find out what was going on, to catch everybody involved. The helicopter swung overhead, kicking up dust as it settled on the pad. Stikes picked up the case, and the two men on the catwalk headed for the metal stairs.

Eddie moved the sight to the helicopter. A young, beefy blond man in a dark suit climbed out. Was this the contact? No - he hurried round to the aircraft’s far side to open the door for another passenger.

At first, all he could see beneath the fuselage was a pair of black stiletto-heeled boots. Then the new arrival strode into view.

He was so shocked that he almost dropped the rifle.

The person meeting Stikes was someone he knew. Someone he thought was dead.

His ex-wife. Sophia.

41

‘I know you,’ said Stikes with a suspicious frown as Sophia Blackwood descended the steps, her long black coat billowing in the idling helicopter’s rotor wash. ‘You were Chase’s wife.’

‘I know you too,’ said Kit, alarmed. ‘You tried to set off a nuclear bomb in New York!’

Stikes’s frown deepened. ‘You’re also, if I remember correctly, supposed to be dead.’

Sophia smiled, coming fully into the light at the foot of the stairs – revealing that her beautiful face was marred by a deep, crooked scar that ran from an inch behind her left eye down her cheek and on to her neck, disappearing beneath a black scarf. The rest of her outfit was also black, including a pair of expensive leather gloves. ‘Gentlemen, I’m all those things, and more,’ she said. ‘But right now, I’m the person you wanted to meet’ – she turned away from Stikes and looked at Kit – ‘and, like it or not, your superior. So shall we get to business?’

‘As you wish, Lady Blackwood,’ said Stikes. There was a faint tinge of mockery to the word; the British government had stripped Sophia of her title following her failed attack on the United States. She gave him a cold look. ‘I assume Jindal told you what I want in exchange for these.’ He held up the case.

‘I know what you want,’ said Sophia. ‘However, the people I represent are more curious about why.’

‘It’s simple, really. When I first met Jindal in Venezuela, I knew something wasn’t right. Interpol division heads don’t go out and do fieldwork – and they certainly don’t do fieldwork that’s only tangentially related to their job. He gave me some cock-and-bull story about the archaeological expedition being connected to a smuggling investigation, but he obviously had some other motive for being there. So I had a little chat with him, and learned about your organisation. The Group.’

If Sophia’s look at Stikes had been cold, the one she directed at Kit was positively icy. ‘Funny. He somehow forgot to mention that.’

‘I was tortured!’ Kit protested. ‘If I hadn’t said anything, he would have killed me. And I didn’t tell him why the Group need the statues. How could I? I haven’t been told myself.’

‘You told him more than enough, apparently.’ She turned back to Stikes. ‘So, you have some idea of the Group’s objectives. What do you want from them? Your wanted status with international law enforcement to disappear, perhaps? Or is it just about money?’

‘Only indirectly,’ said the Englishman. ‘I’m actually offering them my services.’

Sophia arched a perfect eyebrow. ‘Are you now?’

‘Yes. I have the experience, the connections and, frankly, the ruthlessness to be a great asset. From what Jindal told me, what they’re planning will genuinely change the world. I want to make sure I’m on the side that benefits when it happens.’

‘Everyone will benefit. Or so they say.’ There was a glint in her eye that suggested she had a different opinion.

‘They will,’ insisted Kit. ‘I wouldn’t be a part of this if I didn’t believe it would help the world.’

Stikes rattled the case. ‘But they need these first, don’t they?’

Sophia glanced back at the blond man watching from the top of the steps. ‘There was a suggestion – not mine, I’ll point out – that we should take them from you by force.’

Stikes gave her a lupine smile. ‘That would be a bad idea.’

‘I know. We used a thermal scanner to see who else was here before landing. Mikkel is very good, but I doubt even he could pick off all three of your men before they killed us.’

‘He’d be lucky to draw his—’ Stikes broke off abruptly. ‘Three men?’