Andy Mcdermott - Temple of the Gods

Warden’s expression was slowly turning cold. ‘And what would that be, Dr Wilde?’

‘Power. Over everybody. For ever. If you find the meteorite, you’ll have a genetic Rosetta Stone that will let you create a virus to modify human DNA, to give you control over an obedient and pliant population. Am I getting warm?’

A lengthy silence. First to speak was al-Faisal. ‘Glas should have been eliminated the moment he opposed the plan,’ he growled.

‘I’ll take that as a big yes,’ said Nina. ‘So, y’know, I really don’t think I want to be a part of this. I have an old-fashioned notion that people have the right to decide how they’re going to live their own lives — and by people I mean everybody, not some self-appointed elite. Crazy, I know.’

The masks of civility were rapidly falling away from the others at the table. ‘You’ll do what you’re damn well told,’ snarled William Bull.

‘You think “the people” have ever controlled their own lives?’ his brother went on. ‘That’s fairytale liberal claptrap! There have always been the rulers, and the ruled. That’s the way it is.’

‘We just want to put an end to all the wasteful over-consumption and in-fighting,’ added Brannigan.

‘An end to conflict,’ said Warden. ‘That wasn’t a lie. We will bring order and peace to the world. Finally.’

‘Peace on your terms,’ Nina sneered.

‘Peace is peace.’

‘Does that include resting in peace? How many people will be killed by your virus?’

‘No more than three per cent of the global populace, we estimate,’ said Frederick Bull, as calmly as if discussing how many people owned a particular brand of phone. ‘But population control is part of our long-term plans anyway.’

She regarded him in disgust. ‘So the price of your peace is over two hundred million dead — and genetic slavery for everyone else? Wow, what a bargain.’ She shoved back her chair and stood, picking up the case. ‘It doesn’t matter anyway, because you can’t achieve anything without my cooperation. And I’m sure as hell not going to give it.’

‘Your cooperation,’ said Warden coldly, ‘doesn’t have to be voluntary. If necessary, it will be forced.’

‘You mean like this?’ Nina reached into her jacket and whipped out a gun — Sophia’s Glock. She thrust it at Warden’s face, making him recoil in shock. Gasps of fright came from the others.

‘Stikes didn’t search her?’ said Meerkrieger in disbelief.

‘I said you should have fired him,’ Nina told Warden, who was shaking with fury. ‘Okay, I want you to tell your security goons to withdraw. I’m going to take the statues, and I’m going to take Larry Chase, and we’re going to leave—’

A slow handclap echoed through the room. Nina spun to see Stikes standing nonchalantly at one of the side doors, giving her mocking applause. She snapped the gun round at the former soldier. ‘Oh, put it down, Dr Wilde,’ he said, raising his open hands to show they were empty. ‘We both know you’re not going to shoot an unarmed man.’

‘I’m willing to bet you’re not unarmed,’ Nina said coldly, the Glock not wavering.

‘Actually, I am. But he’s not.’ Stikes nodded towards another door across the room.

‘Yeah, like I’m going to fall for that—’

‘Nina!’ The voice was English, shocked — and frightened despite an attempt at bravado.

Larry Chase.

She had no choice but to look. Larry was shoved into the room by a large man holding his collar with one hand — and pressing a gun into his back with the other. ‘Larry! Are you okay?’

‘Yeah, but — what the hell’s going on?’ He stared at the people around the table in confusion. ‘That’s Caspar Van der Zee! What is this?’

‘It’s a meeting of the secret rulers of the world,’ said Stikes, with a tinge of derision. ‘Now, Dr Wilde, put down the gun. I know we can’t shoot you, but —’ his lips curled sadistically — ‘I will have Daddy Chase over there shot, in such a way that it takes him several excruciating hours to die. You’ve got ten seconds.’

‘If you shoot him, I’ll kill you!’ Nina warned.

‘You wouldn’t have come here at all if you were willing to let him die. Three, two—’

With an anguished look at her father-in-law, she tossed the gun on to the table. ‘Good,’ said Stikes, smirking. ‘Now, sit back down. I think it’s time we all finally saw what happens when you put the statues together, don’t you?’

Nina reluctantly returned to her seat as Larry was pushed to the table. She was filled with concern — for both of them — but another thought dominated her mind.

Where was Eddie?

Her husband was well aware that he was behind schedule. The plan had been for Nina to draw out the meeting with the Group for as long as possible, but they both knew that sooner or later she would have to admit she had no intention of leading them to the meteorite. At that point, things would turn nasty, and he would need to be there to help her.

However, the approach had taken longer than expected, the need for stealth while dealing with the remaining guards outside the building delaying the team. But now, they were finally at the hotel itself.

There was a door to Eddie’s right, but his focus was on another entrance to the left, nearer the downhill slope. Steam swirled from extractor vents above a stairwell descending into the ground which had several large wheeled bins lined up near its top. Access to the kitchens. Even though the only guests at the hotel were the Group and their employees, the establishment was still fully staffed, ready to provide the VIPs with anything they requested. Since Eddie was determined to avoid innocent casualties, the hotel workers needed to be removed from danger.

He signalled for Glas’s men to follow as he went to the stairwell, checking nearby windows for signs of activity. All were empty. He paused by the first bin, making sure that no one was having a crafty smoke at the foot of the steps.

Nobody there. The way in was clear.

The others arrived behind him. ‘Okay,’ said Eddie, ‘remember there are civvies here. Round ’em up, then find a storeroom or something and lock ’em in until we’re done. Everyone ready?’ Nods of confirmation. ‘Right, here we go.’

He led the way down the stairwell. The door at the bottom was ajar, wisps of steaming air rising from the gap. He opened it wider. A white-tiled room came into view, twenty or so aproned staff busy preparing the resplendent evening meal for their billionaire guests.

Eddie quietly entered, gun at the ready. At first none of the kitchen staff noticed the intruders, being too involved with their work — then a woman chopping vegetables looked round at the cold draught. Her irritation instantly turned to fright.

‘If I can have your attention, please!’ said Eddie loudly to forestall her scream as the other camouflage-clad men rushed in behind him. ‘Dinner’s cancelled. Nobody’ll be hurt if you do what we say, so stop what you’re doing and keep quiet.’ A flash of movement — a waiter lunging for a telephone mounted on the wall. ‘Oi!’ he shouted as he fired, the silenced shot shattering the phone just before the waiter reached it. ‘That means you, Manuel!’ The large man froze.

Eddie quickly surveyed his surroundings. Through the circular windows in a set of swing doors he could see a lift and stairs leading upwards, presumably to the dining area, as well as a dumbwaiter near the exit, but of more immediate interest was a single door, at the kitchen’s rear, to a storage area full of catering-sized bags of dry goods. ‘Okay, everyone in there. Move!’