Kingdom of Darkness (34 page)

Open an RPG-7’s crate, prep the launcher, load the round, take aim, fire; Eddie knew from experience that it was neither a complicated nor time-consuming process. He moved even faster, at last reaching the cab. Grabbing a handrail, he hauled himself into its open side.

The fireman’s back was to him – but the driver reacted to the intruder with alarm. He reached for an overhanging chain to sound the whistle in warning—

Eddie didn’t have time to get his gun. Instead, he shoulder-barged the fireman. The man squawked, dropping his shovel as he collided with the driver. They caught the throttle lever, pulling it open. More steam rushed into the cylinders, and the locomotive lurched and gained speed.

The Englishman drew his weapon – but the driver pushed the fireman back at him. The impact knocked the pistol from Eddie’s hand. It landed amongst the spilled coals at their feet.

Eddie drove the fireman back across the cab in a third volley of human ping-pong. This time, the Nazi staggered in front of the firebox – and a tongue of flame from the open hatch caught his leg.

Even with fireproof clothing, the heat made the man scream. He jumped away – only to be hammered into unconsciousness as Eddie snatched up the shovel and smacked the blade against the back of his head. The fireman crumpled, his head landing in the mouth of the furnace and instantly being swallowed by a ball of greasy flames.

The driver recoiled in horror – then made another lunge for the chain. Eddie whipped the shovel at him, catching the other man a solid blow, but too late. The whistle shrilled.

He hit the Nazi again, sending him spinning against the firebox, then threw the shovel down to grapple him. ‘Woo-woo, fuckface!’ he growled, repeatedly pounding the man’s head against the unyielding metal of the controls. Blood spouted on the third strike; he let go, and the driver collapsed beside the burning fireman.

The engine shuddered. Eddie glanced through a porthole to see the hairpin approaching with alarming speed. He was tempted to leave the throttle wide open and send the whole train flying off the track with all the Nazis aboard, but then remembered that Banna was still a prisoner. With a muttered curse, he pushed the lever back to roughly its original position; stopping the train would be suicide, as he would be swarmed by soldiers.

It was still moving too fast for the turn, though. The wheels screamed as the engine entered the hairpin, coal skittering across the footplate. Eddie grabbed his gun before it followed the black chunks out of the cab’s open side. Behind, the carriage shimmied on its twin bogies, throwing its occupants around in their seats. The four-wheeled wagons were affected even more as the vibrations snaked along the length of the train. One man was flung from an open door, cartwheeling down the hill before a boulder brought him to a skull-cracking stop.

The locomotive slowed, the sheer weight of iron and steel holding it on the track. Eddie looked across the hairpin at the rest of the train. The soldiers who had entered the ammo car came back into view at its open door. One held an RPG-7 launcher, hoisting the metal tube on to his shoulder and leaning out, his companion holding on to him as he prepared to fire.

He took aim, forefinger finding the trigger . . .

Eddie’s own finger was faster.

Most of his shots from the rocking loco hit only wood – but one found its target, sending a spurt of red over the launcher as the Nazi’s cheek blew apart.

The man fell back into the wagon – reflexively pulling the trigger.

The RPG-7 round burst from its tube, propelled by its initial booster charge. It hit the stacked crates in the ammo truck, bouncing off – then the main rocket fired. The wagon’s interior filled with flames as the warhead ricocheted in the confined space.

The second man dropped and shielded his face as the grenade whirled past and wedged between two crates, fire spewing from its tail. The warhead was impact-detonated, but it had hit the boxes before arming itself.

The Nazi realised what had happened. He scrambled over and grabbed the squirming projectile by its conical warhead, struggling against the rocket’s force to hurl it through the open door—

The motor burned out – and its self-destruct activated.

The warhead exploded in his hand, ripping the wagon open. Planks and panels scattered along the track. Part of a wall fell outwards, only a buckled metal support keeping it attached as it dragged along the ground.

Wind fanned the flames. Cracks and thumps came from burning boxes as the ammunition inside cooked off and exploded. A flaming case fell from the open side, rolling to a stop inside the hairpin. Bullets ripped through the wood and thudded against the train. One man was hit in the stomach and collapsed with a scream.

Walther, however, was only concerned about the rounds from a much closer source. He looked towards the locomotive. ‘
Es ist die Englander!
’

Eddie fired again, but the huge Nazi jerked back into the carriage, the bullet blasting a chunk from the window frame. ‘Shit!’

‘
Scheiße!
’ gasped Walther, staring at the broken wood where his head had just been. ‘He’s in the engine – he must have killed the drivers!’

Kroll glared at him. ‘So kill
him
!’

‘What about the others behind us?’ Rasche demanded. The brake van came back into view on the leg of track above them as the train exited the hairpin.

‘Tell the men to keep shooting – no, wait!’ The obese Nazi twisted in his seat, glimpsing the wrecked and burning ammo truck before it was blocked from his view by the rest of the train. ‘Detach the rear car! It’s dragging on the ground; they’ll crash into it!’

Rasche shouted the order to the men behind, while Walther brought up his gun.

‘Don’t shoot, don’t shoot!’ Nina cried as Zane prepared to strafe the train again. ‘You might hit Eddie!’

‘Where is he?’

‘Where do you think?’ She pointed at the locomotive. A familiar stocky, balding figure stood in the cab.

The Israeli made a
tsk!
sound, then redirected his aim at the Nazis in the wagons. ‘Is it okay if I shoot
them
?’

‘Go right ahead – wait, what’re they doing?’ A command had been passed down the train, and now a man was being hoisted from the door of the second-to-last truck by the others inside. He clambered on to the roof, then hurried along it to climb down into the gap in front of the ammo car. ‘Shit! They’re going to uncouple it!’ A moment later, the burning wagon separated from the train, rapidly falling behind as the smashed bodywork scraped along the track bed like an anchor.

Zane fired, the climber falling and being run over by the ammo truck, then darted to the brake wheel. ‘We’ve got to stop! If we hit it—’

‘I’m not leaving Eddie!’ said Nina.

Her determined, anguished face told the Mossad agent that the only way she would abandon her husband would be if she were unconscious, or dead. Unwilling to put her into either state, he nevertheless took hold of the brake control. ‘If we don’t, we’ll never make it around the next bend.’

Nina took in the track below. ‘Slow us down – but don’t stop,’ she told Zane as she moved to the compartment’s left side to act as a counterweight. ‘I’ve got an idea.’

He turned the wheel. The remaining brake shoes closed, sparks flying again. ‘What?’ he shouted over the noise.

‘If we’re still moving fast enough when we catch up with that truck, we’ll ram it right off the track!’

‘Or
we
might go right off the track – or it could blow up and take us with it!’

‘Just do it,’ she ordered. Zane gave her a somewhat sarcastic
yes, ma’am
look.

The van entered the tight left hairpin – faster than before. Both its passengers had to strain to stay upright. Stray rounds from the burning ammo box struck wood, Zane flinching as one seared past his head.

The wheels on the inside of the bend skipped along the rail as the van tipped. The Israeli turned beseechingly towards Nina, wanting to brake harder, but she shook her head. ‘Keep going! We’re almost—’

The vehicle lurched as the rusted track buckled under the stress. Nina shrieked and lost her footing. Both inside wheels left the ground, the wagon starting to overturn—

Zane let go of the brake and threw himself at the inside wall. The impact and shift in weight arrested the van’s roll . . . then it fell back down, kicking up a huge burst of sparks as the wheels hit the rail, and flew out of the curve like a slingshot stone. Nina and Zane exchanged relieved glances – which vanished as they remembered what was waiting for them.

He jumped up to look ahead – and immediately dived back to the floor. Nina took his hint and did the same—

The brake van rammed the trundling ammo truck, the latter’s dragging bodywork tearing away as the collision propelled it forward. The two couplers locked together – and the wagons raced down the hill after the train with ever-increasing speed.

Nina raised her head to see the less-than-ideal result of her plan. ‘Buggeration and fuckery!’

Eddie saw the brake van almost overturn on the loop, but then his view was blocked by the passenger carriage. A glance from the cab reassured him that Nina and Zane had made it around – but his brief appearance drew fire from Walther. The German bellowed more orders.

The Englishman could guess what they were: Walther was telling his men to climb out and move along the train to retake the engine. He couldn’t cover both sides at once; sooner or later they would overpower him.

He would have to take the fight to them first.

The next right-hand hairpin was approaching. Eddie thought for a moment, then pulled the throttle lever open. The loco’s huffing exertion increased. He scrambled on top of the coal bunker behind the cab, then jumped on to the first carriage’s roof – and ran.

Its occupants heard him. ‘
Tötet ihn! Tötet die Engländer!
’ Kroll yelled. Bullets punched up through the metal behind Eddie’s feet. He yelled, jumping over the gap behind the passenger coach to land on the first of the goods wagons.

The loot truck. The Nazis’ most precious possessions were under guard inside.

Not for long.

Handrails ran above the doors on each side. Eddie shoved the gun into his jacket as he angled right – and jumped, twisting in mid air to grab the railing as he fell.

The train swept into the turn at dangerous speed. Eddie swung through the open door at the two Nazi guards—

The nearest took the Englishman’s feet to his stomach. He flew backwards and disappeared with a shriek through the other doorway.

Eddie landed and drew his gun – but the second guard dived at him. Both men fell against the pithos, tearing loose one of the ropes holding it. The Nazi pinned Eddie down, driving a knee into his stomach before swiping the pistol from his hand.

The Yorkshireman pounded a retaliatory fist into the Nazi’s side. The other man yelled. Eddie twisted, trying to throw him off – but the soldier’s hands clamped around his throat and squeezed with vice-like force.

31

Flames from the ammo truck whipped back at the brake van, more bullets cooking off like deadly firecrackers. ‘This thing could blow any second,’ Zane warned. ‘Great plan!’

‘I’m an archaeologist, not Casey Jones!’ Nina shouted back. ‘We’ve got to disconnect it!’

‘By “we”, you mean . . .’ the Israeli muttered as he went to the front veranda, arms raised to protect his face from the heat. Nina took the brake as he leaned over the barrier and groped for the coupler’s release handle.

It was just out of reach. He pushed himself further, toes leaving the floor as his fingertips rubbed the rust-scabbed metal—

A grenade explosion shook both wagons. The lurch sent the Mossad agent over the wooden wall. He kicked his legs back to counterbalance himself, but too late.

He dropped—

His right hand clamped around the coupler handle – and he forced his arm straight, taking all his weight on his wrist and locked elbow. But he couldn’t hold himself upright. He slowly slid sideways, about to fall under the brake van’s whirling wheels . . .

Nina grabbed his legs. ‘I’ve got you!’ Zane gasped in breathless relief, then tugged the lever.

It didn’t move.

He tried again, harder. It shifted, but the couplers remained locked. The collision had buckled the metal.

More ordnance detonated, flinging out shrapnel. Nina ducked, then strained to haul the Israeli back into the caboose. Her plan had failed, and now they faced a choice between being blown up or flung off the track—

‘Wait, wait!’ he yelled. ‘It’s moving, I’ve got—’

A harsh clank – and Nina fell backwards, dragging Zane with her. The coupler opened, separating the two wagons . . . but they were still rolling downhill at matching speeds, racing towards the next hairpin. ‘Get the brake!’ he yelled.

She scrambled to the pillar and twisted the wheel. The brake van shuddered, slowing – and the other wagon suddenly raced away as if propelled by a rocket. Zane joined her, tightening the brakes’ grip.

Trailing smoke, the ammunition truck reached the bend and whipped around it. For one impossible moment, it seemed as if the runaway wagon would make it through the turn . . . then its front wheels jolted off the track. It bounded over the sleepers and careered down the hillside, crashing into a clump of scrawny trees and coming to a precarious halt not far above a lower leg of the track.

The brake van followed it around the hairpin, again on the verge of overturning . . . before steadying and coming out of the turn. ‘How many more of these goddamn reverses are there?’ Nina complained rhetorically. The train was drawing away from them. ‘Take off the brakes, we need to catch up.’

Zane complied. Gravity took hold again, the van regaining speed. They had lost ground on the Nazis, but she calculated that they would be able to keep pace, and she felt a small surge of hope as she saw that there was no sign of Eddie on the ground beside the line. He was still aboard the train . . .

He was – and fighting for his life.

Eddie struggled to break the Nazi’s grip on his neck, but the young man’s tendons felt like coiled steel. He switched tactics, driving punches at the soldier’s face with as much force as he could muster from his awkward position. The man recoiled from the first blow, and the second, spitting blood, but if anything the attacks only made him squeeze harder. Another punch, but the Englishman was weakening . . .

Something moved through the edge of his vision. The loose rope from the earthenware jar, swinging back and forth as the train rocked—

He grabbed it – and whipped it into a loop around the Nazi’s neck.

The man’s triumphant snarl abruptly changed to a rictus of alarm as Eddie yanked the rope tight. He released one hand to pull at it—

Eddie took full advantage, again driving his fist at the other man’s jaw – this time without the Nazi’s arm obstructing the strike.

There was a sharp crack as the soldier’s front teeth snapped. The man screamed as exposed nerves were rasped by broken enamel. He jerked back – allowing Eddie to slam a knee into his side. The soldier hit the floor.

Eddie gripped the rope with both hands and pulled as hard as he could, at the same time twisting on his side to deliver a two-footed kick. The Nazi rolled away – and out of the door. He was dragged along by the train for a moment before his neck broke with a horrible crack.

Eddie released the line. The end snapped away, then fluttered limply in the wind as the body fell beside the track.

Wheezing, he got up. He needed to find the Andreas relic – but found himself facing the pithos. ‘Pith off,’ he said, managing a smile.

Kroll stared back at the burning ammunition truck, before remembering that there were much closer dangers. ‘Walther! Is the Englander dead?’

‘The men are climbing along both sides of the train,’ Walther replied. ‘They’ll get him.’

The Nazi leader leaned over to look down the train’s length. ‘They’d bet—’

Sudden horror choked off his words as he saw something emerge from the wagon behind. Something as tall as a man, engraved with ancient Greek text and topped with silver . . . ‘The jar!’ he managed to cry. ‘The water jar!’

The other Nazi leaders rushed to see – as the pithos was kicked out of the truck. It barrelled away down the slope, rolling faster and faster . . . until it hit a rock. The great jar exploded into a billion fragments, its precious contents splashing over the bleak hillside.

Rasche shook with anger. ‘The water . . .’ He rounded on Kroll. ‘That was
all
the fucking water! What the hell are we supposed to do now?’

Kroll struggled to control his own fury. ‘We carry on with the plan,’ he told the others, before adding to Rasche alone: ‘I think we’re committed to it now.’

Rasche glared at him, then went to a window to scream at the men clambering along the train’s side. ‘He’s in the treasure wagon! Kill that bastard! Come on,
move
!’

Eddie heard the enraged yelling even over the locomotive’s huff. He was about to have visitors.

Where was the relic? He had seen it being loaded, but one wooden box looked much like another. It had been amongst the last of the treasures put aboard, though, so it would be near the doors. Considering its importance, it would also have been put somewhere safe – or at least, he realised as he glanced at the ropes that had held the pithos, secure.

Only one crate was tied down. He was about to yank at the knots when more shouts prompted him to check outside. He peered out of the left-hand door – to see soldiers clambering along the train, holding the railings and guttering at the edge of the roof. A man reached across from the wagon behind to get a grip on the loot truck—

Eddie shot him in the stomach. The Nazi hit the ground with a crunch of bones. Another round took out the man behind him. The others following tried desperately to find cover, but by now the Yorkshireman had darted to the other side of the wagon to take out a third man less than two feet from the open door. The corpse flailed away down the hillside.

He darted back to the crate and released the ties. The lid had been nailed shut, but dashing the box apart on the floor took care of that. Crumpled paper spilled out – and amongst it, the dull gleam of bronze.

Eddie picked up the relic. It was too large to fit into any of his pockets. He still needed both hands, so he hoisted up the back of his leather jacket and shoved the artefact head first inside the waistband of his jeans, flat against his buttocks. ‘Can’t believe putting a fish in my pants is the
least
insane thing I’ve done today,’ he muttered. It was far from comfortable, and risked limiting his movements, but he shrugged the jacket back down over its protruding tail and went to the left-hand door.

Their comrades’ deaths had dissuaded the other soldiers from advancing along the train’s side. They could still come from above, though. If he was going to rescue Banna, he had to get on the roof before them.

He looked ahead – to see the driverless locomotive lurching into the next hairpin. ‘Oh,
shite
!’

The snaking effect was more violent as it rippled back along the train. Eddie grabbed the door frame to save himself from being thrown out. A truncated scream came from behind; he twisted to see a soldier – or rather,
half
a soldier – being spat out by the grinding wheels. The Nazi had taken cover between two of the trucks, only to be shaken loose on to the track.

Eddie clung on. If the train derailed here, the terrain was steep enough to kill everyone aboard when the wagons rolled over. He braced himself, ready to dive out and take his chances if the engine came off the tracks . . .

Somehow, all its wheels stayed on the rails. The rocking subsided as the locomotive clanked on to the next leg of the descent.

Eddie recognised what lay at its end – the extremely tight spiral loop that he had passed with Julieta on his way into the Enklave. There was no way the train would make it around at its current speed.

He pulled himself on to the roof. Smoke rose ahead where the burning ammo truck was wedged amongst the trees. Cracks and bangs warned him that bullets were still cooking off.

The brake van was freewheeling down the line above. He glimpsed Nina inside the bullet-pocked wagon. A wave to assure her that he was okay, then he narrowed his eyes against the hot smoke from the loco’s chimney and moved forward, wondering how the hell he was going to get Banna out of a carriage full of armed and angry Nazis.

‘He’s alive, Eddie’s alive!’ Nina cried, seeing her husband on the roof.

Zane pointed behind the Englishman. ‘So are they!’ The soldiers climbing along the train resumed their pursuit. ‘Get the brake!’

He brought up his sub-machine gun as Nina took the wheel. Zane aimed, waiting until he was sure that Eddie was beyond the MP5’s spread of fire – then pulled the trigger.

Bullets sprayed the train. A man on top of one wagon was hit in the leg and fell over the edge, another Nazi clambering along the side taking an explosion of splinters to his eyes from a near miss and losing his grip in shock. He was dragged under the wheels and vanished in a wet burst of red.

The other men on the roof dropped flat – but Zane’s magazine was now empty, and he had no replacement. The silence told the Nazis all they needed to know. Guns came up—

‘Down!’ Zane yelled. Nina dropped as more bullets ripped into the brake van. Planks cracked and split, showering them with broken wood. There was a sharp bang as a supporting beam gave way – and a whole section of the curved metal roof crashed down into the rear of the compartment, pieces of the van’s side scattering on to the hillside behind it.

The front half of the wagon remained intact, but was far from undamaged, more rounds striking home. Nina buried her head in her arms as a bullet hit the brake wheel’s column with a shrieking clang. Zane crawled across the floor as another plank blew apart behind him. Then the onslaught died down as the caboose and train passed each other, heading in opposite directions.

The Mossad agent risked a look through the ragged hole. ‘
Harah
.’ His attack had delayed the Nazis but not deterred them; the men on the roof were already getting back up. ‘They’re still going after him.’

Nina rose to see – but her own life took priority as the battered brake van rumbled towards the next hairpin. ‘Oh, crap!’ she gasped, grabbing the wheel.

Zane sprang up to help her. The brakes shrieked in protest again. This time, something was wrong: there was a new noise, a grating rasp accompanied by a harsh judder. ‘That doesn’t sound good!’

‘Let’s hope it works better than it sounds!’ Nina maintained her hold. The wagon slowed, but the noise and vibration only grew worse.

Another lurch as the van swept into the hairpin. This time, they had shed enough speed to get around without teetering on the very edge of disaster – but as they eased the wheel back open, a clamour of disintegrating metal gave notice that another set of brake shoes had failed. Catastrophe was still waiting in the wings.

Schneider peered nervously at the track ahead. ‘We’re going too fast! We’ll never make it around the loop.’

‘Somebody has to climb into the engine and slow us down,’ said Kroll, his gaze fixed upon Rasche.

His second-in-command was not pleased. ‘What the hell do I know about driving a train?’ He addressed the men guarding Banna. ‘You two! Do either of you know how it works?’

‘I once rode in the cab when I was a boy . . .’ one offered hesitantly.

‘That’s good enough. Get out there and stop this thing!’

The soldier gave his companion a worried look, then saluted and went to the door. He was about to open it when a thump came from the roof at the rear of the carriage.

Walther’s face crunched into a snarl. ‘It’s the Englander!’

Kroll glowered at the huge man. ‘What are you waiting for?
Kill him!
’

Eddie hunched down, feet wide apart for stability on the rocking coach. The smoke was thicker this close to the locomotive, cinders searing his exposed skin. He shielded his face, trying to come up with a plan to save Banna that didn’t involve simply swinging through a window and hoping for the best—

He flinched at a gunshot, fearing that the men in the carriage were firing through the roof again. But the crack had come from one side. The train was passing the ammunition truck. The trees around it were ablaze, the wooden wagon an inferno. Forget bullets; the risk now was from explosives. He turned his head to watch it go by, trying to judge when he would be out of danger . . .

A different threat came into sight – soldiers on the roof, coming after him.

He crouched as low as he could as he drew the gun. But he didn’t have enough bullets left to kill them all.

That didn’t stop him from trying.

The leading Nazi was hit in the shoulder, losing his balance. The crack of bone as he landed head first was audible even over the engine’s din. The other soldiers dropped to their bellies, bringing up their MP5s to shoot along the roof—

A huge explosion came from the hillside.

The ammo wagon blew apart in a massive fireball – disintegrating the trees. Unsupported, the truck’s blazing remains jolted loose and hurtled onwards down the hillside, the mangled front end of the chassis biting hard into the ground and sending the entire wreck flipping end over end at the train—