Temple of the Gods

The armour’s elaborate breastplate was beside Eddie. He snatched it up and rolled to raise it like a shield. A shuriken flying straight at his head clanged off it.

Something else shot towards the armour — and punched right through it with a bang. Eddie flinched as the kusarigama’s razor-sharp sickle blade slammed to a stop inches from his face.

Raphael hauled on the weapon’s chain again, whisking the shield away.

Leaving himself briefly open to attack—

Eddie pulled the bloodied shuriken from his arm and hurled it. It hit the ninja in the throat with a solid chut and a crimson spray. He collapsed, twitching and gurgling.

Both remaining ninjas froze, exchanging glances as they reassessed their opponent. Eddie scrambled up. The pain in his chest made every breath hurt, and his arm was now damp with blood. He glimpsed his gun on the floor of the next room, but he would have to get past the staff-wielding Michelangelo to reach it.

And now Donatello was whirling his nunchaku from hand to hand as he advanced from the opposite direction.

Trapped—

‘Let me go!’ Nina yelled, striking at Kojima with her heels and elbows as he dragged her into Takashi’s office. ‘He’s my husband! I can talk to him, find out what’s going on!’

Takashi had no interest in debate. Instead he went to a cabinet and took out a sturdy impact-resistant case. He opened it, revealing that it was lined with foam rubber, inset with three recesses in the exact shape of the statues.

‘Put them in here!’ he ordered. Still holding the struggling Nina with one arm, Kojima tugged one of the statues from her grip as Takashi placed his own figurine in the case. ‘Dr Wilde, the statues must be kept from any harm. And so must you.’

‘You’re the one who should be worried about harm!’ Nina cried as she finally broke loose, giving Kojima a solid kick in the shins. He yelped. ‘Call off your — your ninjas,’ she said, not quite able to believe what she was saying. ‘I can get Eddie to—’

The door opened. She turned, hoping to see Eddie… but saw instead his most deadly enemy.

Alexander Stikes.

She backed away like a cat facing an aggressive dog. ‘What the hell is he doing here?’

The industrialist didn’t appear pleased to see him either. ‘I told you to wait until we were finished.’

‘Sorry,’ said Stikes with a sarcastic smile, ‘but the alarm going off was rather a clue that something was wrong.’ He turned to Nina. ‘A pleasure to see you again.’

‘No it goddamn isn’t,’ she growled. She addressed Takashi. ‘This son of a bitch tried to kill me!’

‘He is only here because he delivered the statues to me,’ said Takashi. But there was a flustered quality to his reply that made Nina suspect he was concealing the whole truth, if not outright lying. ‘Please, Dr Wilde, you and the statues must be protected.’ He pointed at the stone figure still in her hand. ‘Put it in the case. If necessary, we will use the escape capsule to get them — and you — safely out of the building.’

Nina glanced at the booth containing the spherical pod. ‘You’re not shooting me fifty storeys into the air in that thing.’

‘It is for your own safety,’ Takashi insisted as Kojima hobbled to her and took the last statue, then put it in the case and closed the lid.

‘I can look after myself.’

‘Don’t worry,’ said Stikes. ‘I’ll take care of her.’

The malice behind his supercilious smirk was impossible for Nina to miss. She had seen it before, as his prisoner. As his victim, tortured for information with scorpion venom. Fear rose at the memory, her fight-or-flight instincts kicking in with a rush of adrenalin.

Fighting was out of the question. She knew she couldn’t win.

Which left—

She burst into motion, shoulder-barging Kojima aside and snatching up the case before sprinting through the doors.

‘Damn it!’ Stikes hissed as they slammed behind her. He reached into his jacket and drew a gun, a nickel- plated Jericho 941 automatic, and ran after her.

‘No!’ Takashi’s command made him freeze mid-stride. ‘Put your gun away. She is too valuable to the Group. She must not be hurt.’

The Englishman gave him a baleful look. ‘She must not be killed. That isn’t quite the same thing.’ He flicked off the Jericho’s safety. ‘Don’t worry, Mr Takashi. I’m a very good shot.’

Before Takashi could say anything further, he threw open the doors and rushed out after Nina.

Eddie’s gaze flicked back and forth between the two ninjas as they closed in. Donatello was still twirling his nunchaku with dangerous ease, trying to intimidate him into retreating — into range of Michelangelo’s poised staff.

His eyes moved to the exit — and the gun. If he could knock down or even distract one of the ninjas for as little as a second, he had a chance to round the other and reach the Makarov. But he would have to pick the perfect moment… and it wasn’t here yet. Both men needed to be closer, but not so close that they could make an unstoppable strike.

The ninjas knew what he was thinking. They exchanged another look, silently agreeing a plan of attack. Eddie stepped back. Even if they had figured out what he was about to do, he had no option left but to chance it.

The staff, though less showy, was more likely to fell him than the nunchaku. Donatello was his target, then. The ninja was still approaching, more cautiously. Another couple of feet.

One more step—

Eddie bumped into something. Caught off guard, he instinctively glanced at the obstruction — a display case containing a sword.

Donatello darted forward, the nunchaku whipping up at Eddie’s face. He raised his arms, taking a fierce crack to the elbow from the wooden handle—

The staff swung like a baseball bat, slamming across his stomach and pitching him backwards against the case. The whole thing toppled and fell, glass exploding beneath Eddie as he landed on top of it. Shards stabbed into his shoulders. He rolled sideways to get clear of the debris as the nunchaku lanced at his head. More glass splintered as it missed by barely an inch.

Michelangelo raised his staff again, bringing it high over his head to crush Eddie’s skull like a watermelon—

Eddie grabbed Kusanagi and swung it upwards as the staff lashed down. A sharp crack of wood against metal — and the bo’s end was neatly chopped off by the sacred sword, its edge still keen even after centuries.

Even with his weapon reduced to two-thirds of its length, the ninja struck again. This time, Eddie used the sword not to parry but for leverage, shoving himself out of the wreckage and rolling on to his feet. Michelangelo’s thrust fell short. Another attack, but this time Eddie was prepared.

He swung the sword as hard as he could at the ninja’s neck.

Swordsmanship was not one of Eddie’s combat skills, fists and firearms the majority of his military training. The blade caught the ninja flat-on instead of with its edge.

But that was enough. The sword made an almost musical ringing note as it hit the side of Michelangelo’s jaw like a hammer. Spitting blood, the ninja crashed through another display, shattering jade figurines.

Eddie had no time to celebrate. The other ninja made another charge, nunchaku flailing so quickly they were a blur. One of the handles clanged off the sword as the Yorkshireman defensively snapped it up. Donatello instantly adjusted his movements to send the next strike past the ancient blade, the chain looping around it. He pulled back sharply, trying to yank the weapon out of Eddie’s hands.

This time, Eddie kept a firm grip. He charged, driving the blade at the ninja’s stomach.

Donatello was too quick, twisting out of the way. He braced himself as Eddie collided with him, then with a rapid movement freed the nunchaku from the sword and turned to strangle his adversary with its chain…

Eddie headbutted him in the face.