‘The two of you have got a genuine chance to get out of here. All you’ve got to do is find your way to the exit at the far side of Hades.’
‘Yeah, right,’ Sara said contemptuously. ‘Like you’re going to let us go.’
Apollyon shrugged. ‘Sure I’ll let you go. As long as you get past the devils and demons.’
‘Oh, great,’ I said. ‘I take it those spears and swords are sharp.’
‘You shouldn’t complain. At least they aren’t carrying firearms.’ The bearded man turned and nodded to the big man with the badge on his cap. This time, I recognized the figure on it, one that had its own relevance to the location. Hercules, the ancient Greeks’ most dynamic hero, had descended to the underworld to capture Hades’ three-headed watchdog Cerberus. I hadn’t seen any other characters from ancient myth in this very medieval hell.
‘Right, take them down,’ the officer ordered.
I was marched to a metal staircase. As I went down, I heard more footsteps. It seemed that Sara and I were going to be working together. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Would she be watching my back or looking for an opportunity to execute me? Maybe I should have been thinking about doing that to her, but I didn’t have it in me. We had enough to contend with, and I had no idea what had happened to Rothmann.
A last door was opened and we moved out onto the damp earth at the beginning of the infernal landscape.
‘Hey, shoes,’ I said, as my feet sank into the mud.
‘Screw shoes,’ the guard behind me said. ‘You see any humans wearing footwear in those paintings?’
This wasn’t the time or place for a discussion about realism in art. The staves were tossed a few yards in front of us.
‘Follow your noses,’ said another guard.
I felt the plastic shackles fall from my wrists. By the time I had picked up my wooden weapons, the door had clanged shut behind the guards. I looked over at Sara. She was rolling up the sleeves of her camouflage jacket. She drew one of them across her forehead. I noticed how thin her forearms were. Surely she hadn’t given up the daily sessions in the gym that she had started in London.
‘Any idea where we should head?’ she asked, peering ahead.
Loud barking broke out to the right. I listened and thought I could make out three dogs. Either Caesar had a couple of friends or Cerberus was lying in wait for us.
‘Let’s go to the left,’ I said.
‘Why not? Capitalism’s dead and buried, after all.’
I raised an eyebrow and set off through the mud, glancing up at the figures on the viewing platform where we had been.
‘See you at the far side,’ I shouted. That provoked raucous laughter. Screw them, I wasn’t giving up without a fight.
As we approached the first pair of buildings, I saw a long spear wave above the roof and heard muffled commands.
We were expected.
Thirty-One
Rudi Crane was in Hercules-1, the company Learjet, en route to New York’s La Guardia airport. He was working at his computer, running an eye over the balance sheets from the various divisions. He was gratified to see that activities in the Far East were coming in above projected earnings, while the Middle East was running at its usual excellent levels. Even domestic business was up, proving that some things really were recession-proof. Private security was expanding at a rate that surprised many, but not Crane. It had been obvious to him for years that an economic crash would increase the gap between rich and poor, giving Hercules a golden opportunity to ensure that customers felt safe in their gated communities, places of work and country clubs. Investments that he’d made years ago were now bearing fruit-for which, as always, the Lord was to be thanked.
Hitting the keys with two fingers-whoever would have thought that chief executives would need secretarial skills? — Crane brought up the company profile. Red dots across the globe showed Hercules facilities, while there was a mixture of red and blue on the continental U.S.-the latter color marking operations that the company financed, but kept its involvement secret for various reasons. Texas had more of those than any other state because of favorable tax and firearms legislation. There was an underwater combat training unit near Galveston and an advanced cavalry section north of Lubbock-riding skills had proved to be very useful in parts of Russia and Africa-but the preacher’s attention was not focused on those blue dots. He clicked on another one and a drop-down menu appeared. The third line offered voice connection. The call was answered immediately and a clipped voice gave him an encouraging update. Praise be, everything was in hand.
‘Mr. Crane?’
He looked up and smiled at the ice-blonde stewardess. She was Ukrainian and he had chosen her himself from a lineup provided by the Hercules team in that country. Unfortunately, he could never recall her name.
‘Thank you, my dear.’ He took the glass of tomato juice and sipped experimentally. ‘Excellent. A touch less Tabasco the next time.’
The young woman bowed and stepped away.
Katya, Crane remembered. He must remember that when she came to his sleeping quarters later. In the meantime, he had to refresh his memory about the week to come. He was using the United Nations Conference on Climate Change to bring Hercules Solutions even more into the public eye, which meant a large amount of schmoozing with mercenary politicians and their hangers-on. Schmoozing? He banished the word from his vocabulary. It sounded Jewish. Anyway, there would be plenty of opportunity to fly the company flag, not least because he had recently begun an initiative to make all Hercules facilities and vehicles as green as possible in countries and states where that was important-not Texas, of course. It was important to give clients all the help they could get when it came to deciding on which company to use. Not that he believed in climate change. The whole thing was obviously a conspiracy by left-leaning intellectuals to jam up the wheels of business. Besides, the Lord had everything in hand. With Armageddon fast approaching, those who deserved to be saved would be taken up to Heaven. For those who remained, the state of the planet would be the least of their worries.
Before he went to the well-appointed bedroom at the rear of the cabin, Rudi Crane dropped to his knees and gave thanks for the support his plans had received from the Good Lord. Recent developments had showed that he had been right to cut loose from Jack Thomson and his Nazi fantasies. It wasn’t necessary to believe in outdated ideologies, let alone debase oneself in impious devil worship. The traditions he had grown up covered things much more effectively, even if it was sometimes necessary to make exceptions: some of his best combat leaders were black; Hercules Solutions also used Jewish lawyers and accountants, and Asian bankers. Of course, none of them were candidates for the Rapture.
Crane got to his feet, holding on to the chair as the jet hit minor turbulence. When he’d been younger, he would have parted company with his lunch in such a situation, but he had trained his body to control itself.
‘Oh, Katya,’ he called.
Swallowing bile, the stewardess walked toward the preacher, her blouse already undone.
‘Got any ideas?’ I asked, as we approached the damaged building.
‘Weapons,’ Sara said, banging her staves together. ‘Concentrate on replacing these with anything that’s more lethal.’ Her forehead shone in the flickering light, but her face was set hard. ‘I’ll take the front. You see what’s round that corner.’
My mouth was dry, but my heart rate wasn’t excessively rapid. I was in some kind of zone, ready to fight to the end. I had to make this good-for Karen and our son, but also for my trainers, Dave and Quincy. I glanced at Sara. I should have been paying her back for their deaths, but that could wait. Without her, I had much less chance of getting to the far side of Hades. The last I saw, she was pointing the long staff like a lance and charging the shattered door.
There were two figures waiting for me at the side of the building. I applied the long staff to the first one’s rat head and hit the second with the short staff where I guessed his chin was under the demon mask. They dropped
