He descended a ladder to the cave floor and put the bag containing his belongings in the cockpit before starting the pre-flight checks for the plane’s short voyage.
Eddie found himself in a broad hall, paintings on the walls. No sign of anybody, but he was still cautious, moving quietly.
Shimmering reflected ripples through one door told him that the room beyond opened out on to the infinity pool; an open arch to his right led into what was apparently a lounge, a bar visible through the doorway. He edged towards it. As he approached, he picked up a smell, faint but distinctive: chlorinated water. The girls from the pool?
Back against the wall, he moved closer, listening for movement inside the room . . .
Something crunched under his foot.
Rock salt, almost invisible where it had been scattered over the pale marble. A simple but effective warning system.
He backed up—
Boom!
A hole almost a foot across was blown through the wall just in front of him, spraying him with fragmented plaster and wood. He stumbled in shock, slipping on the hard floor and landing on his backside – as a second hole exploded right above his head. ‘Shit!’ he yelled, scrambling backwards.
The shooter had anticipated his retreat, another two holes bursting open behind him.
He slithered round, rock salt digging into his palms, and launched himself like a sprinter past the archway.
His brief glance into the room told him plenty. He had expected to see a gunman, but it was actually two gunwomen, the topless water babes from the pool, blasting away at him – Jesus, with AA-12s – as he hurtled past the entrance. One woman was behind the bar, the other beside a couch. Shotgun fire ripped more holes out of the wall in his wake. There was a mahogany door at the end of the hall – wherever it led, it had to be safer than this—
He passed a second open archway and reached the door.
Locked!
Both AA-12s swung to track him—
He dived into the lounge, slamming against the back of a leather armchair. Shots shredded the expensive piece of furniture as the women kept firing. Eddie had instinctively been counting shots – each AA-12’s drum magazine held twenty rounds, and they were rapidly chewing through them, but they would reduce his cover to matchwood long before they ran dry. He needed something more solid.
A granite desk, between him and the killer bimbos. Not ideal, but all he had—
The armchair thumped against him under the force of another shot. Eddie pushed hard at the disintegrating seat, sliding it across the room. Another round blew off an entire corner of the backrest. He kept pushing – then grabbed the chair’s base and bowled it at the dark-haired woman as he rolled under the table and strained to tip it on its side. It crashed down with a bang.
The brunette shrieked and leapt away as the tumbling chair bounced past her. The blonde behind the bar kept firing. The granite slab took the impact – but Eddie, pressed against it, still felt as though he was being kicked in the back with each shot.
‘Go round it and shoot him!’ the blonde yelled. Another shot – and the granite cracked, a plate-sized chunk barely missing Eddie as he jerked sideways.
A slap of feet as the brunette moved. He was running out of time—
The quickest of glances through the broken section of desk revealed a fishtank set into the wall behind the blonde. He grabbed the hunk of granite and hurled it with all his strength.
The blonde ducked as the stone flew over her and hit the glass – which shattered, bursting outwards. She was knocked down by the deluge, shards and marine life hitting her near-naked body.
Eddie was already running. If he could disarm her before she recovered . . .
A horrific scream filled the room. He dived as the blonde’s AA-12 barked again and again, her finger clenched on the trigger and firing off its remaining rounds on full auto. Shredded debris spat across the room. The screaming continued, Eddie wondering what the hell was happening. Maybe she was really fish-phobic . . .
He got his answer as he scrambled behind the bar. Clamped to the woman’s right breast was a small octopus, patterns on its body pulsing furiously as it bit her again and again.
The shotgun clicked, the drum empty. The blonde’s movements were already weakening as the deadly paralytic flowed through her system, her screams fading to choked