sea creature that had killed several of Odysseus’s men.
But those beasts weren’t the immediate danger.
“Over there,” Mac warned in a whisper and pointed to their right.
On that side, a good number of the beasts steadily approached. Gray’s team was pinned down, in the direct path of that fiery horde as it headed toward the blast site.
We’ll be overrun at any moment.
Knowing this, knowing they had no other choice, he grabbed Kowalski by the shoulder and pointed to the golden gates. “We need to get through there. You have another drum magazine, right?”
His teammate nodded. “There’s one more in the duffel.”
“Then no half measures this time.” It felt like letting a rabid dog off a leash, but it was now or never. “Get us in there.”
Kowalski’s face split with a savage grin. “Everyone down,” he warned. “Time for my fireworks show.”
Gray dropped flat on the stairs, waving the others with him.
Only Seichan remained crouched on her feet. She had their ammunition duffel open and withdrew the team’s last two pistols, along with a roll of black duct tape.
He frowned. “What are you—?”
“Buying us a little breathing room.” She dashed to the right, toward where the RPG had been fired at a them.
“Wait.”
“Get that door open,” she called back to him. “I’ll be right back.”
Then she vanished into the thick shadows.
Kowalski noted the exchange, casting Gray a questioning look.
He nodded to the door. “You heard her. Get that open.”
Kowalski shrugged and faced the door. He braced his weapon against his. “Here goes nothing.”
The explosive barrage pounded Gray’s ears, his head, his chest. On full auto mode, Kowalski’s combat shotgun could unload three hundred rounds per minute. Kowalski did not hold back and blasted the last twenty shells of his weapon’s magazine into one of the palace doors. Each FRAG-12 round was packed with 3.4 grams of highly explosive composition A5, capable of piercing armored vehicles, bunker doors.
And hopefully these gates.
Kowalski’s salvo only lasted a few seconds, as each shell blasted one after the other into the door. When it finally ended, Gray’s head rang. He could hear nothing but a dull roaring in his ears.
As the smoke cleared, the result revealed itself. One of the palace gates hung askew from some complicated gearwork that served as its hinges. The twenty explosive shells had knocked the door back, tearing it partially away. But it still stubbornly held, while offering a low, narrow gap under one tilted edge.
Good enough.
Gray didn’t bother shouting, knowing all were as deaf as him. He got up and ran low, drawing everyone with him. He reached the broken door and motioned the team through. Maria dove past him. Mac and Bailey hurried through, both men’s eyes huge with panic.
Kowalski stripped out the emptied drum magazine and winged it into the fiery city. Gray joined him. They both stared off into the darkness.
Where is Seichan?
7:10 P.M.
With Aggie clinging and shivering on her shoulder, Seichan knelt in the darkness. One of the fiery lampposts at the end of the wide avenue offered enough illumination for her to work.
She quickly duct-taped one of the SIG Sauer pistols to the bronze wall of a two-story home. She positioned the weapon two feet off the ground. She had already strung a twisted length of the same tape across the thoroughfare, gluing the far end to a post on the other side. She then used one of her daggers to trim the rope of tape and pass it around the pistol’s trigger.
Satisfied, she stood up. She held two prayers close to her heart: that this makeshift tripwire set across this street would not be spotted in the shadows, and that the enemy who had fired upon them would attempt to use this path to reach the palace. This street—and the other avenue she had already booby-trapped in the same manner—seemed to be the most direct routes from A to B.
At least, I hope so.
With her work done here, she set off back toward the palace, trying her best to stick to the darkest shadows, moving at a fast jog.
Suddenly Aggie’s arms tightened around her neck, his little nails digging deep.
Then she heard it, too.
Behind her.
The pounding of bronze on stone.
She glanced back and saw a huge fiery shape round a corner and come barreling toward her, trailing smoke from its massive bulk.
She ran faster, but the clash of metal on rock grew louder, closing down on her. She no longer had the leeway to seek the darkest path to the palace. Instead she sped headlong