Matthew Reilly - Temple

Their appearance screamed: undercover cops.

The man was burly, strong-looking and barrel-chested. The woman small but athletic, with short peroxide-blonde hair.

The man didn’t waste any time. He walked straight over to the Americans and began unlocking their handcuffs.

‘You’re not prisoners anymore,’ he said in English. ‘We are all in this together now. Come, we must save as many of the others as we can.’

Race, Lauren and Lopez were standing—stranded-on the roof of the Humvee, as the whole Humvee-Huey combination drifted awkwardly downriver, caught in the current.

Just then Race saw the rickety wooden jetty about ten yards away from them, downstream. It looked like they would float right by it.

That was their chance.

The Humvee-Huey lurched again, sank lower in the water. At the moment, the Humvee’s roof was about a foot above the river’s surface, while the Huey’s was a little higher. But for every yard that the two vehicles moved downriver, they both seemed to drop a couple of inches.

It was going to be close.

Very close.

They edged another yard downstream.

The caimans began to circle.

Eight yards to the jetty and water began to seep onto the roof of the Humvee and under their feet. The three of them stepped up onto the rotor housing of the Huey.

Five yards away.

Sinking fast.

From atop the Huey’s rotor housing, Race looked out over the floodlit village.

It was deserted now, the only movement the occasional feline shadow that darted across the main street. There was no sign of human life. None at all.

It was then that Race noticed it.

The all-terrain vehicle was gone.

The eight-wheeled tank-like ATV that had been holding Nash, Copeland and the Green Berets was nowhere to be seen.

Race spoke into his throat mike. ‘Van Lewen! Where are you?’

“I’m here, Professor.’

‘Where?’

‘Couple of the Germans opened up the ATV and unlocked our cuffs.

We’re doing a circuit of the village now, picking up anybody we can find.”

“While you’re at it, why don’t you swing by the jetty in about thirty seconds.”

“Ten-four, Professor. We’ll be there.’

Three yards from the jetty, and the Humvee’s roof went completely under.

Race bit his lip.

Although they were now standing on the exposed rotor housing of the Huey, they were still going to have to step across the submerged Humvee’s roof to get to the jetty.

‘Come on, baby, stay afloat,’ he said.

Two yards.

The Humvee’s roof went six inches under.

One yard.

A whole foot under.

Lauren looped an arm underneath the dazed Gaby’s shoulders.

‘Okay, kids,’ she said. ‘Listen up. I’ll take Gaby first. Will, you bring up the rear. Got it?’

‘Got it.’

The Humvee-Huey came alongside the jetty.

As it did so, Lauren and Gaby leapt off the rotor housing of the Huey and splashed down onto the submerged roof of the Humvee—their legs dropping knee-deep into the water.

They took two sloshing strides forward before Lauren threw Gaby up onto the jetty. Then she leapt up onto it herself pulling her feet up just as two massive crocodilian shapes lunged through the water behind her, snapping their jaws ferociously.

‘Will! Come on!’ she called from the jetty.

Race readied himself to jump down onto the submerged roof of the Humvee. He couldn’t imagine how it must have looked—him, in his jeans, T-shirt and baseball cap standing atop a submerged Army helicopter in the middle of a caiman-infested Amazonian river.

How the hell did I get into this? he thought.

Then, without warning, the whole Humvee-Huey con traption lurched dramatically, dropped another foot in the water.

Race lost his balance, almost fell off, but recovered quickly. Then he looked up to see that things had just gotten seriously worse.

The Humvee’s roof was now at least three feet underwater.

Even if he could jump onto it, his mobility would be shot.

The caimans would get him for sure.

The Huey’s situation wasn’t much better.

Even though he was standing on the chopper’s rotor hous ing, it, too, was now submerged underneath an inch of water.

Race looked frantically about himself—saw that the only part of the Huey still above the water were its two rotor blades.

He glanced quickly over at the jetty and saw the ATV skid to a stop at its base—saw the sliding door on the big eight-wheeler’s side whip open to reveal Van Lewen and Scott inside it—saw Lauren drag Gaby over toward it.

Lauren yelled over her shoulder. ‘Will! Come on! Jump!’

The Huey lurched again and Race’s sneakers went fully under the surface.

He looked at the sinking chopper around him, looked at its rotor blades hovering above the surface.

The rotor blades.., he thought.

Maybe he could…

No.

He’d be too heavy, they’d sag underneath his weight.

He spun back round to look at the jetty. Three large caimans now hovered, half-submerged, in the water between him and the old wooden wharf.

Maybe…

Race quickly reached out and grabbed hold of one of the rotor blades.

Then he heaved on it as hard as he could, turning the thirty-foot blade around on its pivot

The sunken Huey was still drifting slowly downstream with the current.

The rotor blade came round, its forward tip almost touching the jetty, The rotor blade came round, its forward tip almost touching the jetty, so that it now looked like a narrow bridge stretched out low over the river, connecting the Huey to the wharf.

The Huey rocked again, sank another two inches, just as an enormous black shape exploded out of the water next to Race and on a reflex he spread his legs as far apart as he could and the caiman shot right through them—brushing against the insides of his calves—and off the other side of the Huey.

That was too close his mind screamed. Move!

Race took a final look up at his passage to freedom—the rotor blade, a plank of steel ten inches wide, hanging a foot above the surface of the river.

Do it!

And so he did.

Race jumped up onto the rotor blade and ran out across its length.

Three steps forward and he saw the jetty twenty feet in front of him.

The jetty, safety, salvation—

—halfway across and he felt the rotor blade sag beneath him, and lower itself toward the waterline and—

—come to rest on the backs of the three caimans in the water between the helicopter and the jetty!

Race danced across the narrow bridge, now supported by the bodies of the three caimans!

He reached the end of the rotor blade at a full stride and • launched himself off it, diving through the air, slamming chest-first into the edge of the jetty.

Get your feet out of the water! his mind screamed as he felt his feet splash down into the inky black liquid beneath him.

He quickly yanked his feet up out of the water and rolled up onto the safety of the jetty.

He swallowed, breathless. He couldn’t believe it.

He was—

“Professor! Come on!’ Van Lewen’s tinny voice yelled suddenly in his ear.

Race looked up immediately and saw the ATV parked at the end of the jetty, its sliding side door open.

Just then, however, some movement above the ATV caught his eye and he glanced up just in time to see one of the massive black cats leap clear over the all-terrain vehicle with its claws extended and its jaws bared wide.

The giant animal landed on the jetty barely five feet in front of him. It just stood there before him, crouching low, its ears pinned back, its lips curling, its muscles tensing for the final pounce…

And then suddenly the rickety jetty fell away beneath it.