Andy McDermott - The Midas Legacy

‘There might be guns in those cases,’ Eddie said, with little confidence.

They ducked behind the missile and scurried up the hold’s port side. Behind them, the soldiers jumped from the ladder. One man brought up his rifle, only for a shrieked order from Sek to stay his trigger finger. By the time some of the others had crossed the hold to get a clear line of sight on their targets, Eddie and Nina had taken cover behind a pair of wooden crates. Like the rest of the boxed cargo, they were held in place by quick-release straps attached to rings set into the deck.

‘Uh-oh,’ said Nina in alarm, recognising something behind them: the metal case containing one of the plutonium spheres. Two identical containers were secured nearby.

‘Those must be the warheads,’ Eddie said, seeing three larger crates accompanying them.

‘Great, so we’re five feet from a nuclear bomb.’

‘Not the first time.’

‘That’s hardly something to be proud of!’

‘At least this one’s not about to explode. Here, give me the—’

He hunched lower as gunfire echoed down the hold. Bullets cracked against the crate shielding them, the wood splintering. Flat metallic clunks came from inside as the rounds hit its contents. One side of the damaged box broke open, spilling gold bars on to the deck with heavy, ringing clunks.

‘At least we’ll die rich,’ said Nina, cringing as another bullet struck the plutonium case — then the shooting stopped.

‘Cease fire, cease fire !’ Sek screamed. ‘You’ll hit the warheads!’

His men hurriedly broke off the assault. ‘What do we do, sir?’ asked one.

The captain glared down the hold. ‘There are only two of them. You three, advance and take them from the front. The rest of us will go around the other side of the missile and attack from their flank.’

The soldiers who had been assigned to the first group were not happy. ‘If we can’t shoot at them, sir,’ said one, ‘what do we do if they shoot at us ?’

‘Don’t question my orders, just do it! Go!’ He jabbed a finger at the crates, then led the other troops back around the missile to head down its starboard side. The remaining trio exchanged worried looks, then began their advance. When there was no immediate reaction from behind the gold crate, one man took a gamble and charged at it.

Nina heard his rapid approach. ‘Here they come!’

Eddie sprang upright and hurled a gold bar at the running man.

It was just as effective a blunt instrument as the one in the cellar of Detsen monastery. The twelve-kilogram brick hit the soldier in the face with a dull smack of flattening bone and gristle. He instantly flopped unconscious to the floor.

One of his comrades darted for the cover of a fuselage rib — then hesitated. Eddie knew what he was thinking: if the Englishman had been reduced to hurling lumps of metal, he was unarmed. And if he believed North Korea’s endless propaganda, he would think that all Westerners were cowards who would crumble when faced with the might of his nation’s military forces…

The man drew a combat knife and ran at them.

Eddie rushed out into the open to intercept him, not wanting to be cornered. The soldier stabbed the knife at him. He twisted to dodge it, his battered ribcage protesting with another burst of pain. The North Korean caught his involuntary grimace and realised he was hurt. He slashed at Eddie’s chest to force him back before driving the knife’s point at him once more.

This time it found its target, tearing through the flap of Eddie’s leather jacket. The Yorkshireman jinked aside just enough to keep it from plunging into his heart, but it still cut into his pectoral muscle. He screamed, lurching backwards as blood seeped from the tear in his clothing. The soldier drew back the knife to make a final, fatal strike—

The TEL’s cable snapped.

The remains of the truck at last succumbed to gravity and tumbled away. Its release suddenly made the Antonov’s load several tons lighter — and the great plane lurched upwards into a steep climb, the pilots caught off guard.

Both Eddie and the soldier fell to the deck, startled cries coming from the other side of the missile as Sek and his men were also knocked down. The Yorkshireman grabbed the nearest missile cradle. The soldier was less fortunate, scrabbling at the floor as he slid backwards towards the open doors. The unconscious man followed, as did the gold bar that had knocked him out — and its scattered companions from the broken crate.

Nina held on to one of the straps securing the bullion container and looked over its top. More men tumbled screaming towards the ramp from the other side of the hold.

The man who had run at Eddie cried out in relief as he found a handhold. He clung to it as his teammates skidded past and dropped from the ramp, howls of raw terror receding into the darkness. Gold bars clattered after them, one almost hitting him. He jerked aside, then looked up to see Nina and Eddie higher up the sloping floor.

North Korean military training was brutal, the punishment for a soldier who lost his weapon severe, and the man had taken the harsh lessons to heart. He was still clutching his rifle in his other hand, and now he swung it towards them—

Nina yanked at the quick-release buckles on the straps securing the gold crate, grabbing one of the floor rings as the heavy wooden box fell away behind her.

It hurtled down the hold straight at the soldier. He fired, but the bullets hit only wood and precious metal—

The crate hit him with a bone-breaking crack and swept him away. It flipped over and its contents flew out, dozens of gleaming golden bricks cascading from the Antonov’s rear doors.

Jet engines thundered overhead as the North Korean soldiers who had returned from the muster point closed on their fleeing quarry. The slave workers from Facility 17 had existed on a starvation level, given barely as much food as they needed to perform their back-breaking tasks; now only the adrenalin of fear kept them moving through the dark woods.

But the hunt was almost over, stumbling figures picked out by their pursuers’ flashlight beams. ‘Stay where you are!’ the squad commander yelled. Several prisoners reacted with fearful obedience to his voice, halting and cowering. The braver ones kept going. ‘If you surrender now, you will live! If you run, you will die! This is your only warning!’

More of the exhausted fugitives stopped. ‘Round them up and kill them,’ the commander told his men quietly as they advanced—

One of the soldiers beside him burst apart as something fell from the sky and hit him like a meteorite.

The commander had just enough time to register the gleam of gold in the bottom of the crater that had erupted where the man had been standing — before he and the rest of his troops were obliterated by a hard rain of bullion.

The multi-million-dollar downpour ceased just before it reached the slave workers. They stared in bewilderment at the carnage, still afraid… but the fear gradually evaporated to be replaced by jubilation as they realised that not only were they now armed, most of the soldiers’ weapons still intact, but they were also very, very rich.

Even in North Korea, gold could buy freedom.

The metal hill from which Nina and Eddie were hanging flattened out as the pilots regained control and pushed the Antonov back to a level attitude. The missile slipped in its cradle, metal grinding on metal.

Eddie stood and looked around. Nina was still gripping a cargo ring where the gold crate had been. A couple of spilled bars had ended up wedged behind the second container next to it. He turned to see how many of the North Koreans had escaped plunging out into the void—