Temple of the Gods - By Andy McDermott Page 0,144

from Tokyo, and now we know the bearing from here too!’

His brother was already tapping away on his smartphone. ‘The bearing from here was a hundred and forty degrees east, more or less,’ he said, bringing up a map app. ‘It was two hundred and sixty degrees west from Tokyo, so . . .’ He swiped his fingers across the screen to find where the two lines intersected. ‘Africa! Somewhere in Ethiopia, by the look of it.’

‘How could it end up so far from Atlantis?’ asked al-Faisal doubtfully.

‘I don’t think we’ve even started to comprehend the full power of earth energy,’ said Warden. ‘But now that Dr Wilde is helping us, even if,’ he smiled smugly at Nina, ‘less than willingly, we can explore its possibilities.’

‘Our first priority is finding the meteorite, though,’ said Brannigan firmly. ‘We’ve got to get the progenitor DNA.’

‘And we shall,’ Warden replied. ‘But first—’

Two doors on opposite sides of the room opened simultaneously, cylindrical metal objects flying through them to bounce noisily off the floor and skitter towards the table. Everyone looked round at the unexpected interruption.

Nina recognised the items. Stun grenades! The instructions Eddie had given her earlier sprang back into her mind, and she closed her eyes and clapped her hands to her ears.

Stikes also instantly knew what they were. He dropped, releasing the statues safely on to the floor before he too protected his senses—

Both grenades detonated, their flashes blinding anyone looking at them and the twin piercing bangs so powerful in the enclosed space that they had the same effect on the unprepared as a blow from a baseball bat. The assembled billionaires screamed, reeling in their seats as their senses were temporarily obliterated.

With one exception. Gorchakov had realised the danger just in time to raise an arm in front of his eyes. Even deafened and dizzied, he tried to stand, clutching the Glock and pointing it at one of the doors as men in white rushed into the room—

A burst of silenced bullets hit him in the back as more attackers crashed through the other door. Blood sprayed over the table as Gorchakov toppled to the floor, dead. The Glock clattered down beside him.

Eddie, leading the first team, had already spotted another threat – one of Stikes’s mercenaries holding his father at gunpoint. Both men were stunned, but even blinded all the guard had to do was pull the trigger to hit Larry in the back.

He didn’t get the chance. Two shots from the MP7, and the merc spun away with blood gouting from a pair of holes over his heart.

Across the room, Stikes had recovered from the initial shock and sprung back to his feet – only to find the other intruders’ guns pointing at him. He looked round as if contemplating a flying leap through the window, but then slowly raised his hands. ‘I was wondering when you were going to show up, Chase.’

Eddie pulled off his balaclava and strode across the room to him. He regarded his former senior officer silently for a moment – then punched him hard in the face. Stikes fell, holding a hand to his bloodied mouth. ‘Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now, you piece of shit,’ Eddie growled, his MP7 fixed on the other Englishman.

Stikes somehow managed a pained smile. ‘Because you went to a lot of effort to prove you’re not a cold-blooded murderer, and it would be a shame to waste it?’

Eddie was forced to admit that he had a point. ‘No, I’m not a murderer,’ he said, lowering the gun. Stikes’s unpleasant smirk widened at the minor moral victory – then the Yorkshireman booted him in the head. ‘Doesn’t mean I’m not a complete bastard, though.’

‘You’re neither of those things,’ said Nina, crossing the room to him. En route, she noticed that the Glock had ended up almost within Warden’s reach, and kicked it away. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yeah. Sorry we were a bit late.’

‘Better than never.’ She kissed him. Stikes made a disgusted sound.

Eddie returned the kiss, then regarded the Group, recovering from the effects of the stun grenade. ‘So these are the rulers of the world? A bunch of old farts in suits? Pretty disappointing – I was hoping for at least one supervillain in a cape.’ He turned to Larry, who was also emerging from his befuddlement. ‘Dad? Dad! You all right?’

His father squinted at him in confusion. ‘Edward? What . . . what happened?’ He took in the two dead

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