Empire of Gold - By Andy McDermott Page 0,164

think we’re in a safe place . . . ’

Mac grimaced. ‘Nor do I!’

They leapt over the plaza’s edge – as the wall slammed down where they had been standing with an enormous crunch of masonry.

Flying rubble cascaded after them. A piece hit Nina’s shoulder like a blow from a baseball bat. Mac fared no better, taking a hit to the stomach that left him winded. A billowing grey cloud swirled over them.

The first of Pachac’s men reached the building in which they had landed . . .

And ran past, skirting as far as he could round the rolling miasma. The others behind him did the same, not wanting to risk getting close to a potentially unstable ruin. No one saw the two dust-covered figures inside.

Stifling a groan, Nina listened to the running footsteps move away, then painfully sat up. ‘Mac,’ she whispered. ‘Mac! Are you hurt?’

‘Nothing a spot of death won’t cure,’ the Scot wheezed, wiping his eyes. Nina helped him upright – then they both looked up at a rush of hot, fuel-stinking wind.

The Hind was moving in to land.

Eddie dizzily tried to move, and rapidly regretted it. His entire body felt like one huge bruise. What had happened? He’d shot at the helicopter . . .

The Hind!

It was hovering just feet above the plaza, pointing its Gatling gun at the explorers. Faced with certain and immediate death if they tried to escape, Macy, Osterhagen and Zender had surrendered. Men in black combat gear jumped from the cabin, some aiming at Kit, who raised his hands.

The others came for Eddie.

The AKM was only a few feet away. Ignoring the pain, he crawled towards it—

A booted foot stamped down on the weapon. Eddie twisted to see a gleaming handgun aimed at his head. A Jericho. Behind it was a sneering, aristocratic face.

‘Hello, Chase,’ said Stikes. ‘Fancy meeting you here.’

34

The Hind had landed, Pachac and his men had reached the plaza – and the prisoners were being held at gunpoint.

‘Some familiar faces, I see,’ said Stikes, giving Macy and Osterhagen dismissive looks before turning rather more attention to Kit. ‘There’s one that’s conspicuously absent, though. Where’s your wife, Chase?’

Eddie said nothing, fixing the other Englishman with a defiant stare – which earned him a fierce blow from a rifle butt, knocking him to his knees. ‘He asked you a question, Chase!’ shouted Baine, following the strike up with a boot to the side. He was about to deliver another kick when a gesture from his commander stopped him short.

‘Well?’ said Stikes. ‘Where is she?’

‘Buggered if I know,’ Eddie groaned, standing back up. Nina’s location had been preying on his mind as well. She and Mac had been beside a building on the plaza’s southern side – which had now collapsed.

‘You may well be. I doubt Pachac’s men have a lot of female company hiding out in the mountains – they’re probably desperate enough to find even your hairy Yorkshire arse appealing.’ He turned back to Macy. ‘But I think it’s fairly clear who’d be at the top of their list. Should I give her to them, Chase?’ He raised the Jericho to her head. Macy’s lips tightened, trembling. ‘Or should I just shoot her now? So. Where’s your wife?’

‘She was behind that building,’ Eddie growled in defeat, knowing the former SAS officer would pull the trigger without hesitation. He gestured towards the rubble.

Stikes’s eyes flicked towards the wrecked structure. ‘Cagg, Voeker, check that. See if she’s buried in it.’ His two men moved off to search the ruin. Stikes lowered the gun. Macy let out a whimper of relief.

‘So you brought this arsehole with you,’ said Eddie of Baine, enduring another kick in an attempt to direct Stikes’s thoughts away from his hostages. He didn’t recognise any of the other mercenaries. ‘What about Maximov?’

Stikes scowled. ‘I fired him. Anyone stupid enough to be outwitted by you isn’t somebody I want on the payroll. And speaking of stupidity . . . ’ He faced the helicopter. Both cockpits were open, Krikorian examining the nose cannon while Gurov climbed on to the fuselage to inspect a large dent where a flying rock had hit one of the engine intakes. ‘Gurov! Is there any damage?’

‘I don’t know,’ the Russian replied. ‘I need to check the turbine blades.’

‘How long will that take?’

‘Twenty minutes.’

‘Do it.’ Stikes glared at Krikorian, who noticed his employer’s ire and shamefacedly moved behind the gunship. Stikes returned his gaze to Eddie. ‘Idiot. Firing a missile in a confined space –

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