Empire of Gold - By Andy McDermott Page 0,66

he ran. He fired – but his target had already ducked behind a tree, the 9mm round smacking into the trunk. Stikes cursed and moved to get a better firing angle.

Too late. Eddie disappeared between two buildings, a second bullet hitting only his shadow. Stikes hissed in frustration and ran after him.

Eddie realised he was heading back towards where he had emerged from the pit. That gave him the advantage, however small, of knowing the terrain. Was there anywhere he could stage an ambush?

Yes. If he could reach it before being shot in the back.

He swatted branches aside, following his footprints in the dirt. He could hear Stikes pounding after him, boots thudding rhythmically down the narrow alleyway. Gaining. The taller, leaner officer had always been faster, and while both men had stayed fit after leaving the SAS, Eddie had spent the better part of five years in an office. Another bullet cracked against the wall behind him, the Jericho’s bark echoing through the ancient city. From somewhere deep inside he dredged up an extra burst of speed, swinging round the next corner—

The collapsed section of battlement was ahead – but Eddie was only interested in the vines and ivy hanging from the wall a few yards away, the entrance to the lower level all but invisible behind them.

He dived through, rolling and taking up position at the squat opening. His passage had ripped away some of the creepers – if Stikes spotted the gap and guessed his plan, a few bullets fired through the green curtain would end it instantly.

Footsteps. Stikes had reached the corner. They got closer.

Slowed.

Eddie peered through the leaves. Stikes drew nearer, moving at a cautious walking pace. Eddie tensed, waiting for the best moment to attack – or run. Had Stikes seen the archway, or. . .

The mercenary went past. He hadn’t spotted the entrance, instead heading for the doorway of a nearby ruined building. But it would only take him a second to see that there was nobody inside—

Eddie burst out through the vines.

Stikes spun at the crackle of branches – and Eddie slammed him against a wall. He fired, muzzle flame scorching the sleeve of Eddie’s leather jacket. Eddie responded by grabbing his wrist and smashing it against the edge of a stone block. Stikes barely held in a grunt of pain as the gun was jolted from his grasp. Eddie shoulder-barged him against the wall, then reached for the fallen Jericho—

Stikes whipped up one knee, catching him in the side and making him stumble. He twisted away from Eddie, then lunged, trying to catch him in a headlock.

Eddie lashed out with a foot, catching his kneecap. Stikes grunted again, reeling – then let out a full-blown groan as Eddie drove a solid punch into his stomach. The Yorkshireman pressed home the attack, delivering another blow to his midsection before landing an uppercut on his jaw. Stikes fell against the wall, blood round his mouth. ‘Always knew you were just a fucking Rupert!’ Eddie snarled: army slang for a useless upperclass officer. He pulled back his fist for a knockout blow. ‘Can’t win in a proper fight—’

Two of Callas’s men ran round the corner, raising their AK-103s—

Eddie hauled Stikes away from the wall and shoved him back at the two soldiers. In the confines of the alley they couldn’t fire without hitting him, giving Eddie the chance to sprint in the other direction.

Stikes shook off his dizziness. ‘What are you waiting for?’ he shouted in Spanish, moving aside to give them a clear shot. ‘Shoot him!’

They opened fire – just as Eddie reached the collapsed wall and made a running jump into the jungle beyond.

He was over forty feet above the ground, nothing to stop his fall except the branches of a nearby tree. Leaves smacked at his face as he arced through the foliage, arms thrown wide . . .

He hit the damp wood hard, a bough thumping against his chest. Winded, he grabbed it. There was a sudden explosion of movement around him – dozens of small, brightly coloured birds in the tree took to the air in alarm, shrilling and chittering. The branch bounced as if trying to shake him off, but he kept his hold.

He looked for a way to the ground – but the tree chose one for him. The branch snapped. Eddie dropped – and was caught in a knot of creepers, swinging at the trunk.

He braced himself—

Smaller branches absorbed some of the impact, but they also

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