The Valhalla Prophecy (24 page)

A frown. It looked more like it had been pushed into place after the stone was secured, the webbing stretched around it. What was it?

“Nina!”

Eddie’s voice from the shore, urgent. He had changed back into his clothes—and was running past the startled onlookers on to the lake, waving his arms. Mikkel also heard the commotion and turned, surprised. “Get away from it, get back!”

The Norwegian gestured sharply to the crane operator, who immediately stopped the winch and scuttled away from the truck. Mikkel retreated, eyes scouring the ice for cracks.

But he saw none. Neither did Nina. With the winch halted, an eerie silence had descended—with no alarming noises from the ice. As far as she could tell, everything was solid and stable. So why was Eddie nearly in a panic?

“Nina, get back!” he screamed again as he sprinted across the ice. Now suddenly scared, but unsure what to be afraid of, she edged away from the hole. “No! Not that way, the other—”

His conflicting instructions caused her to freeze. He broke off in frustration, changing direction as he passed the two Norwegians to head for the crane truck. Nina watched in astonishment as he ran past it—and made a flying leap from the edge of the ice, arms windmilling, to land with a heavy thump on the runestone.

The chains clattered as he grabbed them, the truck lurching with the extra weight. Frigid water sluiced up around the stone—and the Englishman’s boots. He
hauled himself higher and clawed at the metal cylinder. “Nina, get to the shore!
Run!
”

“Eddie, what are you doing?” she cried.

“It’s a
bomb
! Go,
go
!”

He pulled the object free and hurled it out toward the center of the lake. Nina was still confused—but the word
bomb
cut through her bewilderment and she broke into a sprint.

Eddie leapt after her—but the unstable surface and lack of a run-up made him fall short. He hit the edge of the hole hard, legs splashing into the water. Gasping in pain, he clawed at the ice …

His gloved fingertips couldn’t get a firm grip. He slid back into the lake, up to his thighs, his waist—

Nina skidded to a stop, then turned and raced back to him.

“No!” he yelled. “Get out of here, go!”

She ignored him, grabbing his wrists and pulling. Her boots scrabbled for grip on the slick surface. Eddie kicked as she hauled him higher, managing to get one knee over the edge. He scrambled out. Nina almost stumbled as she released him. “Are you okay?”

He jumped to his feet. “Yeah—now
fucking leg it
!” he shouted, pulling her after him as he ran for the shore—

The deep
crump
of an explosion echoed around the lake.

Nina and Eddie both dived flat as churning water and chunks of shattered ice were blasted high into the air. They looked at each other in a mixture of shock and relief as they found they were unhurt—then shielded their heads as frozen debris hailed down around them.

“What the hell was—
Ow!
Son of a
bitch
!” Nina yelped as an icy lump bounced off her arm. She rubbed it, then fixed her husband with a look as cold as their surroundings as realization sank in. “You
knew
that bomb was there.”

He didn’t reply, instead pulling her up. “We’ve got to get off the ice. It might not be safe.” Mikkel and the driver were already hurrying toward land.

“I’ll tell you what’s not safe,” she snapped as they
started back to the shore, giving the hole a wide berth. The runestone was still swaying on its chains, sending ripples across the slushy water.
“Bombs!”

“If you’d run when I told you, it wouldn’t have been a problem.”

She gave an incredulous laugh, pointing back to the site of the explosion. The blast had ripped a ragged opening in the ice almost six feet across. “You think
that’s
not a problem? If that had gone off on the runestone, it would have blown it apart—” She broke off abruptly, fragments of memory suddenly clicking together to tell a story.

The toolbox on Eddie’s diving belt, empty as he discarded it; his blocking of the camera; then staying in the water to do something to the stone while everyone else left …

Nina stopped. Eddie continued for a couple of paces before realizing she was no longer beside him. “What’re you doing?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” she said with barely contained anger. “You didn’t just know the bomb was there. You
put
it there.”

Hiding his feelings was hardly one of her husband’s strengths, and she could see the conflict in his eyes. But the side that won was not the one she had hoped for. “Dunno what you mean,” he said.

“Eddie, I
know
you did; it’s the only possible explanation! You had it in that toolbox—it’s the only way it could have gotten there. You put the bomb right over the sun compass so you could be sure it would be destroyed. And you deliberately blocked us from taking photos of the runes.” Her voice rose as the truth hit home. “You’re trying to make sure we can’t use it to find Valhalla! Why?”

A strained shake of his head. “I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

“I made a promise.”

“To whom?”

Still conflicted, he opened his mouth as if about to confess … then turned away and resumed his walk
back to the shore, head bowed. Nina followed, barely able to hold back her fury. “Eddie? Dammit,
Eddie
! Talk to me! What’s going on?”

“I’ve said as much as I can.”

“What is it? Some military secret? I know you won’t talk about that stuff, but how can a Viking runestone have any connection …”

Nina suddenly saw that the people on the shore were reacting to something, looking west along the lake. As she fell silent, she registered a sound breaking the quiet of the snow-muffled forest. A rumble, getting louder, closer …

Eddie heard it too. His head whipped around to hunt for the source. “Choppers,” he said. “You didn’t call ’em in?”

“No.”

“And they wouldn’t have, so …”

“Who’s ‘they’?” she demanded.

Again he didn’t answer. “Come on, quick!” he said instead. He grabbed her hand and ran.

“Eddie, what’s going on?” She looked down the length of the lake. The sun was a red sliver on the western horizon—and silhouetted against it were two dark shapes, the bright stars of spotlights beneath them. The helicopters were heading straight for the camp. “Who are they?”

“Probably Berkeley’s lot! They got the first stone—and now they want the other one.” A glare. “And you bloody found it for them!”

“What? Don’t you try to—”

“They killed that security guard, and they’ll kill us too to get what they’re after!”

They crossed the shoreline and ran to the waiting vehicles. The other members of the team were milling about, the combination of the explosion and the arrival of the helicopters throwing everyone into confusion. “What is going on?” asked Tova, worried.

“Trouble,” Eddie told her, before raising his voice. “Everyone into the trucks, now! We need to get out of here—”

Too late.

One of the pickups jolted with a harsh metallic
thunk
as something hit it, scabs of paint scattering like sharp-edged snowflakes from a thumb-sized hole in its bonnet. The echoing boom of a large-caliber rifle caught up with the supersonic bullet a moment later. A second shot followed, another truck taking a hit that ripped through its engine block.

“Cover! Get to cover!” Eddie yelled. “Into the trees!”

The helicopters split up, one swinging out over the lake while the other swept along the shore. More shots came from the latter—the chatter of automatic fire. A couple of team members who had started to run for the forest hurriedly reversed direction as a fountaining line of bullet impacts stitched across their path. A third vehicle jerked on its suspension as a sniper round punched into its engine compartment.

“Shit!” shouted Eddie, looking in desperation for anything he could use as a weapon. Nothing presented itself. “Mikkel! Where’s your gun?”

The Norwegian had brought a .22-caliber hunting rifle to ward off bears and wolves. “In the truck!” he replied, pointing—at the vehicle farthest from them. Anyone trying to reach it would have to run the gauntlet of gunfire.

Nina cringed as one of the choppers, a Jet Ranger, made a low pass overhead, kicking up a whirlwind of ice crystals. It slowed to a hover, turning to let the gunman leaning from one of its doors keep the expedition in his sights as it descended. The other aircraft, a larger Eurocopter EC175, swept over the hole in the ice as if checking that the runestone was safe, then it too moved in to land. The sniper kept his rifle raised, his targets now human, not machines. “What do we do?”

Eddie gave her a grim look, then turned as if about to run for the trees—but Mathias set off first, only to stumble as another burst of fire crackled out. Nina gasped, thinking he had been shot, but then he recovered and scrambled back the way he had come. The shots had been a warning. The attackers didn’t want them dead.

At least … not yet.

The two choppers touched down at opposite ends of the camp. The doors opened, men scrambling out to surround the expedition. All were armed.

Almost
all, Nina corrected herself. The last man to emerge from the EC175 carried a briefcase rather than a weapon. He winced at the cold and tugged up the hood of his thick coat, then followed his companions to the little encampment.

Nina recognized him at once. “Hello, Logan,” she said with undisguised disdain as he reached her.

Logan Berkeley sneered contemptuously back at her. “Nina. I can’t exactly say it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

Eddie, meanwhile, was focused on the sixteen gunmen closing in around the group. His gaze suddenly snapped onto one in particular. Tall and wiry, with deeply sunken cheeks and a weathered tan …

The new arrival grinned malevolently, locking his gun on to the Englishman. “Well now, there’s a face from the past,” said Carl Hoyt.

“There is the road,” Natalia said excitedly, pointing through the trees ahead.

“About bloody time,” Chase grumbled. Their trek had taken longer than expected, partly because of the need to watch out for more land mines, but mostly because of the one he was already carrying. Even though he was now fairly confident that the explosive inside the rusted casing had decomposed to harmlessness, there was still just enough doubt in his mind to encourage him to handle it very carefully.

They emerged into bright daylight. The road was nothing more than a muddy track, but tire ruts told Chase that it was reasonably well used. Nobody had driven along it so far today, though; branches dislodged by the previous night’s storm were scattered all over, and none had been crushed into the wet soil. The search for the fugitives might not have reached this far—yet.

He was still wary, though. “Keep to the grass along the side,” he warned Natalia. “So you don’t leave a trail.”

The young woman took heed and stopped at the roadside. She looked in each direction. “The village is … that way,” she announced, pointing to the left.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. Both roads out of it go up hills.”

The pair set off down the slope. Before long, they encountered the first signs of a settlement: scattered garbage in the undergrowth. “That’s civilization for you,” Chase said with a wry smile.

To his surprise, Natalia became defensive. “They do the best they can,” she said. “They have so little—no money, and the land here is not good for farming. They cannot afford to take their trash to be recycled.”

He remembered a comment his late grandfather had once made—“You’re never too poor to pick up after yourself”—but decided she wouldn’t appreciate the piece of Yorkshire wisdom. Instead, he asked, “How many people live here?”

“About eighty. It is only small.”

“And you stayed here for, what, four days? Wouldn’t have thought it’d take that long to give everyone a jab.”

“A jab? Oh, a vaccination. No, we treated everyone who needed one on the first day. But we were doing other things also. Actually, that was the reason I came to Vietnam, not just to give out medicine.”

“Yeah?” Chase was about to ask more when he saw movement ahead. Someone was walking up the road. “Get down,” he growled, sidestepping into the concealment of the undergrowth.

Natalia laughed. “It is okay—I know him!” She waved, calling out in Vietnamese.

“No, the guys looking for us might— Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Seeing the man waving back, Natalia ran to meet him. Chase carefully put down the mine and raised the rifle, senses on alert for any signs of danger.

There were none. Natalia spoke to the man, who appeared delighted to see her, then waved for the Englishman to join them. Still annoyed, he collected the Bouncing Betty once more and followed her. “All right, who’s this?”

The man’s happy expression quickly became one of trepidation when he saw the mud-splattered, gun-toting Westerner advancing on him with a land mine in one
hand. Natalia hurriedly gave him what Chase guessed was an assurance that he wasn’t a threat. The villager—he seemed quite elderly, though given his hardscrabble lifestyle it was possible he was only in his late forties—didn’t seem completely mollified, but his face at least now displayed more curiosity than fear.

She kept talking. The man reacted in surprise to something she said, an intense exchange following, then he gestured for them to follow. “He says to come with him to the village,” Natalia told Chase. “They will help us.”

“Ask him if anybody’s been there today asking about us,” he said. She did so, getting a shake of the head in reply. “That’s something, then.”

It only took another five minutes before they entered Ly Quang itself. The settlement was not impressive, just a small cluster of shacks near a riverbank. Most of the structures were wood and thatch, though some were partially built of corrugated metal. The storm had inflicted damage; people were patching up holes in the roofs of several houses.

Chase was more interested in something else: telephone poles, running along the road heading north out of the village. The line ended by one of the largest buildings, a single cable leading down to it. “I need to use the phone,” he said.