Clive Cussler - Treasure of Khan

"I can't really take responsibility for the bonus elements of fire and flood," Gunn replied with feigned humility.

Pitt turned toward the laboratory and noticed for the first time a billow of smoke and flames pouring out the second-story windows. Somewhere in the building, a broken gas line had ignited, sending a fireball through the structure. A disheveled band of scientists were desperately pulling out equipment, research materials, and personal belongings before the whole building went up in flames.

Rid of her chill by the car's warm interior, Tatiana suddenly regained her feistiness.

"Get out," she hissed suddenly. "This is my brother's car."

"I thought it a nice choice as well," Gunn replied. "Remind me to thank him for leaving the keys in the ignition."

Gunn opened the door and started to climb out of the driver's seat. "You want to drive?" he asked Pitt.

"I'll climb in back with the wildcat."

"No," Pitt said, gazing toward the residence. "I want Borjin."

"Go ahead," Tatiana cursed, "so he can kill you dead."

Giordino had enough. With a quick jab, he rocked Tatiana's jaw. The screeching died as she melted onto the seat unconscious.

"I've been wanting to do that for some time," he said somewhat apologetically. He then turned to Pitt.

"You'll need backup."

"Not one with a bad wheel," he replied, nodding toward Giordino's bandaged leg. "No, you'd better support Rudi in getting everyone out of here, in case there's more trouble. I just want to make sure that our host hasn't disappeared."

"You can't last much longer in that icy water," Gunn said, noting a shiver from Pitt. "At least take my coat," he offered, slipping off his heavy jacket. "Not that you should cover up that fancy costume." He grinned at the soggy orange del Pitt was wearing. Pitt stripped off the waterlogged outfit and gratefully zipped up Gunn's dry jacket in its place.

"Thanks, Rudi. Try to get off the grounds before the whole place slides off the mountain. If I don't find you within an hour, then hightail it to Ulaanbaatar without me."

"We'll be waiting."

Gunn jumped back into the Range Rover and jammed it into drive, sloshing toward the compound entrance. The original gate and a twenty-foot section of adjoining wall had been toppled by the floodwaters, littering the grounds with chunks of concrete and debris. Pitt watched as Gunn guided the Rover to the large gap in the wall, then bounced the four-wheel-drive vehicle over the debris until its taillights vanished outside the compound grounds.

Wading toward the dark and flooded residence, Pitt suddenly felt alone and very cold as he wondered what Borjin might have in store for him.

Though the worst of the flooding had subsided, there was still a half foot of water seeping though the residence when Pitt waded up the front steps. He stopped in front of the open front door, spotting a body lying facedown in the water, its legs wedged behind a large planter. Pitt moved closer and examined the man. He wasn't one of the gunmen Pitt had shot at but apparently another guard drowned by the floodwaters. Pitt noted that the man still clutched a wooden spear in one hand, his fingers clenched in a rigid grip. Pitt bent down and ripped the orange tunic from the man's body, then pried the spear from his left hand. He drove the spear tip through the armholes of the tunic and let it drape down as if hung from a hangar. A fool's bait, he thought, but it was all he had to counter those lying in wait inside.

Crouching at the doorway, he quickly slipped into the residence, rotating his .45 in an arc around the foyer. The entrance was empty and the entire house quiet, save for the steady rush of water cascading down a distant stairwell. The electricity had long since been extinguished, but a handful of emergency red lights dotted the hallway ceiling, powered by a remote generator. The lights provided little illumination, casting only patches of crimson shadows through the empty corridors.

Pitt peered down the three separate hallways. He could see out the open end of the northern corridor, where the gushing river was continuing to wash away the end of the wing. Borjin couldn't escape that way unless he had a kayak and a death wish, he thought. Pitt recalled Theresa indicating that the study was down the main corridor, so he slowly moved off in that direction.

Pitt hugged the side wall, his Colt aimed ahead in his right hand. He brought up the spear and tucked it under his elbow, bracing the tip at an outward and forward angle with his left hand. The ripped orange tunic, acting as Pitt's point man, marched a few feet ahead of Pitt, dangling in the center of the corridor.

Pitt moved slowly, shuffling his feet so as not to splash the water and provide an auditory warning of his arrival. He actually had little choice, as his feet were so numb from the frigid river water that he felt like he was walking on stumps. There would be no high-speed foot chases from him, as he fought to maintain a precarious sense of balance.

He moved with measured patience, passing by several small side rooms without entering. He would stop past each doorway and then wait several minutes to ensure no one crept up behind him. A fallen credenza and some broken statuettes blocked his path and he temporarily moved to the center of the hallway. Approaching the residence kitchen, he melded back to the side wall, letting the dangling tunic lead the way down the center of the corridor.

Numbed by the icy water, Pitt concentrated on keeping his visual and auditory senses on high alert.

When his ears detected a faint swishing sound, he froze, straining to determine if the noise was something in his imagination. Standing still, he slightly jiggled the wooden spear back and forth.

The burst came from the kitchen, a deafening blast of automatic gunfire that echoed off the walls. In the faint red light, Pitt could see the orange tunic shredded by the burst, as the bullets continued their path and slammed into the corridor wall just a few feet in front of him. Pitt calmly swiveled his .45 toward the open kitchen door, took aim at the muzzle flash, and squeezed the trigger three times.

As the Colt's booming report receded down the hallway, Pitt heard a weak gurgled gasp wail from the kitchen. It was followed by the metallic clang of a machine gun banging against steel pans, then a loud splash as the dead guard tumbled to the floor.

"Barsijar?" shouted the voice of Borjin from down the hallway.

Pitt grinned to himself as he let the query be met with silence. He had the distinct feeling that there were no more henchmen between himself and Borjin. Dropping the spear and tunic, he moved aggressively toward the sound of Borjin's voice. His deadened feet felt as if they had lead weights tied to them.

Almost hopping through the water, he brushed his free hand along the wall to keep balanced. Ahead of him, he could hear the splashing footsteps of Borjin suddenly dissipate at the end of the corridor.

A loud crash echoed from the side of the house as another chunk of the north wing crumbled under the river's surge. The whole residence shook under the rapid erosion, which ate closer and closer to the center of the house. Perched as it was on the side of a cliff, Pitt knew there was a real danger of the whole structure sliding down the mountain. But he dispelled any notion of turning and heading for the exit.

Borjin was close now and he could take him alive.

Pitt moved quickly past a few small side rooms then hesitated as he reached the fire-blackened study.

He shook off a freezing shiver from the cold and wet and willed himself to focus on the environment around him rather than his own discomfort. A steady murmur of rushing water had grown louder as he neared the end of the hall. Under the dim glow of an emergency light, he saw that it was the floodwaters cascading down a stairwell just past the study. Faint though they were, Pitt could also see a pair of wet prints leading into the dry conference room at the hall's end.