Clive Cussler - The Kingdom

“They would have heard me on the radio.”

“Not from inside. The reception is nonexistent.”

Zhilan considered this. “Ajay, is that true?”

“About the radios, mostly true. As to the temple, it is vast. They may be unaware of your arrival.”

“Then we’ll have to go find them.” Zhilan said.

“Besides,” Karna added, “if they were watching, they would know what I wanted. I’ve spent my entire life searching for the Theurang. I would rather be dead and have them destroy it than give it to you.”

Zhilan turned toward Russell, who was standing behind her right shoulder, and said something. In one smooth motion, Russell lifted the machine gun to his shoulder.

On an impulse he immediately regretted, Sam shouted, “Jack, duck!”

Russell’s weapon bucked. The left side of Karna’s neck exploded in blood; he crumpled to the ground. Russell fired again, a three-round burst that slammed into Ajay’s chest. He stumbled backward and fell dead.

Zhilan shouted. “They are there! In that tunnel! Go after them!”

Machine guns raised, Russell and Marjorie began sprinting. Behind them, Zhilan began walking toward Karna’s body.

Sam turned and grabbed Remi’s shoulders. “Go! Hide!”

“What about you?”

“Right on your heels.”

Remi spun around and took off down the tunnel in a limp-sprint. Sam raised his .38 and snapped off a round toward Russell and Marjorie. He had no illusion about hitting them, but the gunfire accomplished his goal. Russell and Marjorie split up, each diving behind a nearby boulder.

Sam turned and ran after Remi.

He was only halfway down the tunnel when he heard footsteps at the entrance behind him. “Fast bastards,” Sam muttered, and kept going. Ahead, Remi had reached the end of the tunnel. She darted left into the den.

Bullets ricocheted off the wall to his left. Sam leapt right, bounced off the wall, half turned, saw a pair of headlamp beams bouncing down the tunnel, and fired at them. He turned again, kept running. Five more strides brought him to the den. Remi was crouched beside the near wall.

“Come on-”

From the clearing they heard a gunshot, a pause, then a second gunshot.

Sam took her hand, and they bounded up the ramp. Bullets thudded into the steps behind them. They reached the landing and started up the next flight. Remi’s foot slipped out from under her. She slammed chest first to the ground. She groaned.

“Ribs?” Sam asked.

“Yes . . . Help me up.”

Sam lifted her to her feet, and they climbed the rest of the steps and stopped before the arch that led into the Great Room. Through clenched teeth Remi asked, “Ambush them?”

“We’re outgunned, and they’re not going to charge up the steps. Sit here for a second and catch your breath. I’m going to check the next stairs.”

His left foot had just touched the first step when Remi screamed, “Sam!”

He turned to see Remi stooped over, running through the arch into the Great Room. To the right, a pair of figures appeared on the landing below and began charging up the steps.

“Mistake, Sam,” he muttered.

He fired two shots, but the snub-nose was worthless. Both bullets missed, sparking against the stone behind Russell and Marjorie. They ducked and backpedaled out of sight.

Remi’s voice came through the archway: “Run, Sam! I’ll be okay.”

“No!”

“Just do it!”

Sam eyeballed the distance to and angle of the Great Room’s archway and instinctively knew he’d never make it. Russell and Marjorie would cut him down before he got halfway.

“Dammit,” Sam rasped.

Russell and Marjorie popped up on the steps. The muzzles of their machine guns flashed orange.

Sam turned and charged up the steps.

Crouched in one of the tubs, her headlamp doused, Remi was just realizing her position was indefensible when the shots rang out.

Silence.

Then Russell’s whispered voice: “She’s in there. You take her, I’ll take him.”

“Dead or alive?” Marjorie replied softly.

“Dead. Mother says this is the right place. The Theurang is here. Once the Fargos are gone, we’ll have all the time in the world. Go!”

Remi didn’t think but acted. She climbed out of the tub and crab-walked to the shaft. She took a deep breath, let it out, then jumped.

One floor above Remi, Sam had found himself in a maze of small interconnecting rooms and corridors. Here, the roots and vines were much thicker, crisscrossing the spaces like monstrous cobwebs. Slivers of sunlight peeked through, casting the labyrinth in a greenish twilight.

Having left his machete back at the tunnel entrance, there was nothing for Sam to do but duck and weave his way forward and deeper into the maze.

Somewhere behind him he heard the crunch of footsteps.

He froze.

Three more steps. Closer now. Sam turned his head, trying to pin down the direction.

“Fargo!” Russell shouted. “All my father wants is the Theurang. He’s decided not to destroy it. Do you hear me, Fargo?”

Sam remained silent. He stepped to the left, under a thigh-sized root and through a doorway.

“He wants the same thing you do,” Russell shouted. “He wants to see the Golden Man in a museum, where it belongs. You and your wife would be co-discoverers. Imagine the prestige!”

“We’re not in this for the prestige,” Sam said under his breath. “Idiot.”

To his right, farther down the corridor, a vine snapped, followed by a barely perceptible “Damn!”

Sam crouched down, switched the .38 to his left hand, and looked around the corner. Twenty feet away, a figure was charging toward him. Sam fired. Russell stumbled and almost went down but regained his footing and dodged right and through a doorway.

Sam stepped across the hall and crab-stepped over a root into the next room. He paused, flipped open the .38’s cylinder.

He had one bullet left.

Remi landed hard at the bottom of the pit and tried to shoulder-roll to dissipate the impact but slammed into something solid. White-hot flames spread across her rib cage. She swallowed the scream and forced herself to be still. She was in pitch-blackness. She was belowground, she guessed.

From up the shaft came Marjorie’s voice. “Remi? Come on out. I know you’re hurt. Come out, and I’ll help you.”

Not going to happen, sister, Remi thought.

She cupped her hands around the headlamp, clicked it on, and took a quick scan. At her back was a wall; directly ahead, a wide, downward-sloping tunnel. Archways lined either side of the tunnel. Remi clicked off her lamp.

On hands and knees, she crawled ahead. When she’d put what she thought was enough distance between her and Marjorie, she turned her headlamp back on. One hand pressed against her ribs, Remi climbed to her feet. She chose an archway at random and stepped through it. To her left was another arch.

From the tunnel she heard a thump, then a grunt. She peered around the corner in time to see a headlamp turning toward her. Remi raised her pistol, took aim, and fired three quick shots. The muzzle of Marjorie’s weapon mushroomed orange.

Remi backpedaled, turned, and darted through the next arch.

Sam knew Russell was behind him and across the corridor.

One bullet, Sam thought. Russell had more than that, and probably spare magazines as well. Sam needed to draw him in, ten feet or less, close enough that he couldn’t miss.

Careful to keep the corridor in his mind’s eye, Sam crept deeper into the room, then stepped left through an archway. He turned right, stepped up to the next arch, and risked a glance into the corridor.

Through the archway across from him Sam heard a snap. Russell.

Pistol raised to waist height, Sam back-stepped away from the door. When he drew even with the next arch, he turned to step through it.