Andy Mcdermott - Temple of the Gods

‘How could it end up so far from Atlantis?’ asked al-Faisal doubtfully.

‘I don’t think we’ve even started to comprehend the full power of earth energy,’ said Warden. ‘But now that Dr Wilde is helping us, even if,’ he smiled smugly at Nina, ‘less than willingly, we can explore its possibilities.’

‘Our first priority is finding the meteorite, though,’ said Brannigan firmly. ‘We’ve got to get the progenitor DNA.’

‘And we shall,’ Warden replied. ‘But first—’

Two doors on opposite sides of the room opened simultaneously, cylindrical metal objects flying through them to bounce noisily off the floor and skitter towards the table. Everyone looked round at the unexpected interruption.

Nina recognised the items. Stun grenades! The instructions Eddie had given her earlier sprang back into her mind, and she closed her eyes and clapped her hands to her ears.

Stikes also instantly knew what they were. He dropped, releasing the statues safely on to the floor before he too protected his senses—

Both grenades detonated, their flashes blinding anyone looking at them and the twin piercing bangs so powerful in the enclosed space that they had the same effect on the unprepared as a blow from a baseball bat. The assembled billionaires screamed, reeling in their seats as their senses were temporarily obliterated.

With one exception. Gorchakov had realised the danger just in time to raise an arm in front of his eyes. Even deafened and dizzied, he tried to stand, clutching the Glock and pointing it at one of the doors as men in white rushed into the room—

A burst of silenced bullets hit him in the back as more attackers crashed through the other door. Blood sprayed over the table as Gorchakov toppled to the floor, dead. The Glock clattered down beside him.

Eddie, leading the first team, had already spotted another threat — one of Stikes’s mercenaries holding his father at gunpoint. Both men were stunned, but even blinded all the guard had to do was pull the trigger to hit Larry in the back.

He didn’t get the chance. Two shots from the MP7, and the merc spun away with blood gouting from a pair of holes over his heart.

Across the room, Stikes had recovered from the initial shock and sprung back to his feet — only to find the other intruders’ guns pointing at him. He looked round as if contemplating a flying leap through the window, but then slowly raised his hands. ‘I was wondering when you were going to show up, Chase.’

Eddie pulled off his balaclava and strode across the room to him. He regarded his former senior officer silently for a moment — then punched him hard in the face. Stikes fell, holding a hand to his bloodied mouth. ‘Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now, you piece of shit,’ Eddie growled, his MP7 fixed on the other Englishman.

Stikes somehow managed a pained smile. ‘Because you went to a lot of effort to prove you’re not a cold-blooded murderer, and it would be a shame to waste it?’

Eddie was forced to admit that he had a point. ‘No, I’m not a murderer,’ he said, lowering the gun. Stikes’s unpleasant smirk widened at the minor moral victory — then the Yorkshireman booted him in the head. ‘Doesn’t mean I’m not a complete bastard, though.’

‘You’re neither of those things,’ said Nina, crossing the room to him. En route, she noticed that the Glock had ended up almost within Warden’s reach, and kicked it away. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yeah. Sorry we were a bit late.’

‘Better than never.’ She kissed him. Stikes made a disgusted sound.

Eddie returned the kiss, then regarded the Group, recovering from the effects of the stun grenade. ‘So these are the rulers of the world? A bunch of old farts in suits? Pretty disappointing — I was hoping for at least one supervillain in a cape.’ He turned to Larry, who was also emerging from his befuddlement. ‘Dad? Dad! You all right?’

His father squinted at him in confusion. ‘Edward? What… what happened?’ He took in the two dead men. ‘Jesus Christ!’

‘It’s okay,’ Nina assured him. ‘We’re getting out of here. You’re safe.’

‘What about this lot?’ Eddie asked of the Group. ‘We’ve just pissed off the world’s most powerful people. That might cause one or two problems down the line.’

‘We’ll have to worry about that later. The main thing is that we’ve got Larry, and the statues.’

He gave the three figurines on the floor nearby a disapproving look. ‘In that case, we should smash the fucking things to bits right now.’ He raised his gun to shoot them — only to halt as one of the commandos took out a cell phone. ‘Hey! Who are you calling?’

‘Mr Glas,’ came the reply, as if it were self-evident. ‘Sir? Yes, it’s Vinther. We are successful. We have the statues, and we have the Group.’ He listened to the response. ‘Yes, sir. The hotel will be secured for your arrival.’ He disconnected.

‘What?’ Eddie demanded, the statues forgotten as he went to face Vinther. ‘Glas is here in Switzerland?’

‘Yes, he entered the country in secret. He is about to come up in the cable car.’

‘And why the fuck wasn’t I told about this?’

‘Mr Glas decided that you didn’t need to know.’

‘Oh, he did?’ said Eddie, bristling, but Vinther was already issuing instructions to the other men. Several left the room, spreading out into the hotel to mop up any of Stikes’s remaining mercenaries. ‘Well, that’s fucking nice.’

Nina joined him. ‘Look, I know it’s kind of an asshole move on Glas’s part, but it doesn’t matter. We did what we came here to do.’

‘I suppose,’ he rumbled, before jerking a dismissive thumb at Stikes. ‘Keep an eye on that twat,’ he told one of the remaining commandos.

Stikes stared at the couple, behind the blood his expression angry… but also coldly calculating.

In the kitchen, Amsel snapped up his MP7 as the main doors opened, but relaxed when he saw it was one of his comrades entering. ‘What’s the situation?’ he asked.

‘Everything’s under control,’ his companion reported. ‘We’ve captured the Group, and the others are making sure there are no more guards in the hotel. Mr Glas is on his way up.’ He glanced at the storeroom door, through which the waiter was still glaring. ‘Any trouble from them?’

Amsel shook his head. ‘How long before Mr Glas gets here?’

‘A few minutes.’

‘Good. Don’t leave me behind when you go, okay?’

The other man grinned. ‘We’ll come and get you. See you soon.’ He turned and exited.

Amsel looked back at the storeroom. The waiter’s fixed look of stony anger was becoming unsettling, but as looks couldn’t kill he ignored it, turning away to maintain his watch on the kitchen’s other entrances.

Inside the cramped room, the waiter slowly brought one muscular arm round behind his back, raising the tails of his jacket to find something the commandos’ cursory search had missed, pushed into his waistband.

A gun.

His hand closed on the grip, but he didn’t draw it. Instead he stood statue-still amidst the frightened hotel staff, waiting for the right moment…

In the Alpine Lounge, Vinther’s phone trilled. He listened to the brief message, then returned it to his pocket. ‘Mr Glas is here.’

‘Great,’ said Eddie, unenthused. The commandos had returned one by one, having found no more members of Stikes’s security force, and were now guarding their prisoners at the round table. Stikes himself had been moved to the empty seat beside Warden; having wiped the blood from his face, he now sat impassively, cold blue eyes slowly sweeping over the room’s occupants.