The preternatural senses of a predator had to have warned the sec man, because his head swiveled around toward Kane. "He's over here!" the sec man squalled. "The fucker's over here!" He tried to bring his assault rifle around, tightening his finger on the trigger.

  A line of jacketed rounds struck sparks from the submarine, closing in on Kane's position.

  Kane raised the .45 clear of the water, tilting it quickly to drain the water from the barrel, then hoped all of it had spilled free as he dropped the sights over the center of the sec man's chest. Kane squeezed the trigger three times in quick succession, riding out the recoil each time and keeping on target.

  The heavy .45-caliber rounds smashed into the man's chest and drove him backward from cover. Blood suddenly masked his lower face, coming from his ruined lungs as his heart pushed the crimson fluid through his system. He stumbled backward and tripped over the ring of rocks that had been set up around the campfire. A silver bowl containing some kind of fish stew shot out of the fire and overturned nearby. Stew mixed with spattered bat guano, creating a mosaic across the rocky limestone ledge.

  Kane heaved himself from the water, staying in a low crouch that nearly blinded him with pain from his bruised chest. He kept the .45 loose and ready before him, following his line of sight with the weapon just like he'd been taught back in the Cobaltville Magistrate division.

  Another man at the other end of the ledge peered over the barrel of his weapon at Kane.

  Without hesitation, Kane snapped off two rounds, knowing there was no way to avoid the sec man's aim. It boiled down to who killed whom first. One of the .45 rounds missed the man, but the second crashed through his skull and knocked him down.

  A line of bullets smashed into the cavern roof as the dead man fell backward. A half-dozen chunks of bats splatted onto the rocky ledge and the submarine.

  The man lying in the fire continued to struggle weakly for a moment. He lacked the strength to raise his weapon. The stink of his burning hair and flesh filled the cavern.

  Kane put a mercy round between the man's pain-filled eyes. The corpse dropped back into the fire and continued to cook.

  The third man stepped out from behind a jagged section of the cavern wall at the back of the rocky ledge that had provided an inspired hiding place. He brought up the shotgun he carried and locked it into his shoulder.

  Kane took one step to the right, toward the back of the ledge, and threw himself into the air, knowing he'd never avoid the shotgun's discharge by trying to run.

  The sec man was practiced at his killing craft. He kept the shotgun blast low, toward the center of where Kane's body had been. Most men would have been caught flatfooted by the deadly swath that ripped through the air. Only Kane wasn't there when the double-aught discharge arrived, and it ripped through the side of a waterlogged crate.

  Still in the air, arcing his body, hoping to land somewhere near his feet instead of on his head as he flipped, Kane pointed the .45 at the sec man and squeezed off the last two rounds in the pistol. He'd tried to keep both shots onto the center of the man's chest, trusting the knockdown power of the .45 round to at least keep him in the game and provide him a chance to recover after hitting the ground.

  Neither round hit the sec man's chest. One struck the man in the left shoulder, spinning him and knocking him a foot to the right. It was a combination of skill and luck that put the second round through his throat, ripping it out in a crimson spray that painted the cavern wall beside him.

  Kane slammed against the ground, landing on his back and not even coming close to landing on his feet. The impact drove the wind from his lungs and almost sucked away his conscious mind. His bruised chest felt as if it were covered in red-hot brands.

  It took two attempts to get to his feet. He shucked the empty magazine from the .45, pushed a fresh one into place, then holstered it and took up the Copperhead. A brief recon of the rocky ledge assured him that no one remained in the cavern.

  Kane turned his attention toward the gaping hole in the cavern roof. "Grant!" But his voice was lost in the sudden hammering of explosives. Rock broke free of the cavern roof on the other side of the hole. He raised his voice again. "Grant!"

  LINDSTROHM TOOK COVER as the Tong air wags continued their bombing run across the ruins.

  The two pilots had obviously worked together before, because their movements were fluid and certain. They fired the twin machine guns mounted on the front of the small air wags and strafed the ground while the passengers dropped impact-triggered bombs over the side.

  "Ren and the others must have seen us leaving Campecheville," Vasquez said over the roar of the bombs and the 7.62 mm machine-gun fire hammering into the jungle and ground. "They decided it would be better to take you out here, away from the ville, than try to deal with you there. Probably have the Ville under a full-scale invasion right now."

  Lindstrohm knew her assessment was likely correct. Even if the Tong couldn't take the Ville by force, it wouldn't take long for them to starve everyone out. Dark rage filled him, and he desperately hoped that the sec teams he had in place in Campecheville could hold out long enough for the preset timers to run their course and explode the bombs aboard the oil rigs.

  He ducked his head as one of the impact bombs landed less than thirty feet away. The ground vomited up, sailing high into the air and crashing back down a few heartbeats later. He was pelted with dirt and rock, some of the chunks large enough to leave fist-size bruises. Blood streaked his face from a cut on his scalp.

  Lindstrohm's thoughts raged around Ka'in. Every time in the past he had failed at getting the manna machine because of something Ka'in had done. Sometimes they'd worked together to free the chalice from enemy hands, as they had when they'd acted as agents for the Celtic king on behalf of the Tuatha de Danaan. They'd recovered the chalice then and returned it to the king. Lindstrohm had returned the device under protest because he didn't want to confront Ka'in, but he'd set up their betrayal to the Romans. He just hadn't counted on getting killed as part of the bargain.

  Machine-gun fire from one of the wags pursued the air wags. The gunner was even getting closer, starting to lead his target, when the air wags returned. The 7.62 mm machine guns chewed through the jungle and across the ground, leaving small craters in their wake, and clouds of dust and debris rose from the earth.

  The gunner in the wag stayed with his target, scoring on the lead air wag. Smoke belched from the front of the air wag, then flames flickered to life. The air wag's twin machine guns chopped into the wag and the gunner, jerking him like a puppet at the end of its strings. Then the air wag passenger tossed an impact bomb over the side that scored a direct hit.

  The wag erupted in a whoosh of flames.

  The air wag streaming smoke and fire, tried to recover, but was visibly slowed by the damage it had taken. Before it could gain altitude, the landing gear snagged in a cluster of treetops. The air wag stopped suddenly and flipped, pancaking into the trees and breaking into pieces like a child's toy.

  The other air wag lifted, having no choice but to leave his wingman.

  But Lindstrohm knew the pilot hadn't abandoned the battlefield when it started climbing again and coming back around in a looping circle.

  In almost the same instant, wags poured through the yawning gap that had been created by Lindstrohm's munitions man. All of them carried Tong hatchet men. Two of the wags were fast-attack vehicles similar to Sandcats that Lindstrohm hadn't seen before. Besides having a .50-caliber machine gun, the wags also sported a 75 mm cannon as part of the armament.

  As Lindstrohm watched, the lead wag turned its long gun on a pair of wags parked under nearby trees. The wag crews scattered immediately while the drivers tried desperately to clear the area.

  "Bastards had the war wags already put ashore somewhere outside Campecheville," Vasquez said. "We missed that."

  Lindstrohm cursed. He'd guessed about the extra ships, since Ren's vessel hadn't had any severe problems with pirates. The only reason pirates wouldn't have attacked would have been if the force was too large or too well protected with on-board artillery. Evidently the ships from the Western Isles had possessed both. "Didn't expect those fuckers to be so bold."

  "They want the oil fields," Vasquez said. "And they don't want to have to deal with anyone else."

  Glancing back at the opening in the cavern, Lindstrohm said, "The U-166 is down there, Narita." He glanced at her desperately. "We can still make this work. Those three people up there must be part of Ka'in's group. He hasn't left yet."

  The war wag's main gun belched flame, and the scream of the shell filled the air for one instant before the resulting explosion deafened everyone. Shattered trees toppled, bringing down still other trees and brush, as well as men who hadn't cleared the area quickly enough.

  The sound of the main battle gun echoed over the bowl- shaped depression that Tulum occupied on the karst above the Caribbean Sea.

  "Tillman!" Lindstrohm shouted.

  The man looked over from where he was hiding behind a boulder a few feet away.

  "You said the caverns had another opening," Lindstrohm reminded.

  "Yeah. About thirty miles away. There's at least one boat down there. Tied off at the submarine. At least, it was there when I left."

  Another salvo of cannon rounds spewed from the long guns aboard the war wags. Thunder rolled over the immediate area, then dirt and debris filled the air as more trees shivered and fell. Flames raced across the canopy of the trees from the air wag that had been shot down, bleeding black smoke up into the blue sky.

  "The caverns are our only way out," Lindstrohm told Vasquez. "Order your men to charge that area."

  She hesitated only a moment, staring at the area near the opening in the earth. Then she raised her voice and yelled orders.

  Lindstrohm led the charge, pushing himself up from the ground and racing forward. Some of Vasquez's sec men passed him, spraying the area around the cavern mouth with autofire.

  A black man leaned around a tree with an M-14 in his hands. Coolly, he shot into the approaching sec men, picking off targets as if he had all day to do it.

  An albino rose from hiding, grens in both hands, and flung them at the advancing sec men.

  "Gren!" a man yelled, diving to cover.

  But there was no time. The albino girl had obviously pulled the pins and counted down part of the time. The grens exploded while they were still in the air. It was a dicey move, because she could have been caught up in the twin blasts, as well. Instead, she vanished from sight just as Lindstrohm threw himself down.

  The grens exploded, one only a short time after the other. One of them was an antipersonnel munition that threw out shot in all directions and ripped men unlucky enough to get caught up in the blast to bloody caricatures of anything human. The other gren was a smoker that unleashed white tear gas that filled the area and stayed put because the breeze was nonexistent.

  The three people near the cavern's mouth got to their feet again. The white-haired albino threw herself into the cavern opening as if she were diving from a cliff. The black man offered covering fire as the woman with red-gold hair started for the opening.

  Filled with desperation, certain that Ka’in was again about to put the manna machine part from his grasp, Lindstrohm shouted, "No!" and ran toward the woman.

  "Harry!" Vasquez shouted, breaking cover and bringing up her CAR-15. "Dammit, that was stupe!"

  The black man didn't hesitate as Lindstrohm charged across the distance. The M-14 rose swiftly and surely to his shoulder, and Lindstrohm could almost feel the crosshairs on him. Lindstrohm fired his handblaster instinctively, but knew none of his rounds even came close to their target. He ached, waiting for the bullet that would surely kill him even as he drove his feet hard across the uneven, rocky ground. He held his breath, but the tear gas was already burning his eyes and nose.

  Vasquez's CAR-15 blasted behind Lindstrohm, and the black man spun away.

  The woman with red-gold hair tried to bring up her weapon.

  Not daring to slow down, Lindstrohm threw himself at the woman, watching as the assault rifle in her hands came up. He caught her quickly enough, though, that the rifle was trapped between their bodies when he slammed into her.

  Lindstrohm's forward momentum carried them both over the edge of the yawning cavern mouth. He spotted the albino hitting the crystal-clear water below them as they dropped.

  KANE WATCHED as Domi hit the lake cleanly, then plunged beneath the surface. Then he watched anxiously as Brigid came spilling over the side of the cavern mouth with a man wrapped around her. They fell to the underground lake, and there wasn't a damn thing Kane could do except watch helplessly.

  Then some kind of explosive round landed near the open mouth of the cavern. The edge around the opening crumbled, spilling huge rocks from the cavern roof. If Brigid survived the plummet to the hard, unforgiving surface of the lake, Kane knew there was a good chance some of the falling debris might kill her.

  Domi's head popped up above the surface nearly to the submarine's side by the time Brigid and the man hit the water.

  Kane ran across the rocky ledge and leaped onto the listing submarine. It was the highest vantage point possible. His footsteps sounded hollow, letting him know the vessel was no longer filled with water. He trotted to the stern of the submarine, boots rasping against the pitted surface, and peered down into the water.

  More debris rained down from above, creating dozens of ripples and impact areas. Brigid and the man who'd been holding her had disappeared.

  Grant leaped through the yawning opening above and dropped in a clean dive, but Kane could tell by the way the other man had hit that he was hurting.

  Domi reached the rocky ledge and pulled herself up, filling her hands with her blaster as other sec men threw themselves into the cavern.

  "Tongs," Domi explained. "They attack Lindstrohm."

  Kane nodded. Attacking Lindstrohm while he was away from Campecheville and couldn't trigger the self-destruction along the oil rigs was only good strategy, something he would have done himself. He peered into the lake, looking for some sign of Brigid.

  An instant later, her red-gold hair caught his eye as she surfaced fifty yards out. She brushed water from her face and started to swim, but before she could move, an arm snaked around her neck from behind.

  Lindstrohm surfaced behind Brigid, holding her hostage with a knife at her throat. His wet hair matted to his head and he grinned malevolently at Kane. His eyes held mad cunning

  "I'll chill her, Ka'in," Lindstrohm threatened over the roar of explosions that echoed in the cavern. The knife glinted at Brigid' s throat, fisted tightly in his hand. "You know I will."

  Grant came up only a few yards away, then glanced around and spotted Lindstrohm holding Brigid. Other heads popped up quickly after that, all of them belonging to Lindstrohm's sec men.

  Rocks and debris continued falling into the underground lake from the cavern mouth above. More fractures showed in the cavern rooftop and walls, and Kane felt certain the whole place was about to come down as the Tong shelling above remained constant.

  "I know you will," Kane said. Half-buried dreams and memories of other atrocities Lindstrohm had engineered over a score of lifetimes pushed at Kane's mind. Maybe in this life he'd professed good intentions about Campecheville, but Kane couldn't forget the things the man had done in the past. Lindstrohm, under another name, had been responsible for the death of the king who had served the lady.

  "Where's the final piece, Ka'in?" Lindstrohm demanded. Water lapped up to his nose, causing him to splutter. Treading water while holding on to Brigid for cover was demanding. Brigid kept sinking into the lake and having to fight her way clear, as well.

  "I don't know," Kane replied. "I haven't had time to look."

  "Find it," Lindstrohm suggested. "Mebbe I'll let her live."

  "If you don't let her live," Kane promised in a cold voice, "you'll die next." He swept the lake with his gaze, discovering that eleven sec men had survived the plunge from the cavern opening. And there was the woman that had been with Lindstrohm back in Campecheville—Narita the Bleeder.

  "Get the chalice, Ka'in," Lindstrohm ordered in a belligerent voice.

  Kane turned, knowing the sec men were going to head for the outcrop and clamber to shore. The sounds of the battle above continued. Small-arms fire punctuated the barrage of big guns. More rock and debris tumbled from the cavern roof.

  Searching quickly, Kane looked through all the crates that had been opened on the rocky ledge. Most of what had been taken had been ruined by the centuries of lying at the bottom of the ocean. There were also spare assault rifles and a couple of RPG-7 rocket launchers.

  Nothing looked like the bowl he remembered from the dreams.

  Then Kane remembered the fish stew the men had been cooking over the campfire when he'd arrived. In disbelief, he walked over to the dead man still being burned in the campfire. Flames clung to the man, burning his clothes off and sizzling the fat from his flesh. The stench of burning hair filled Kane's nose.

  He walked past the dead man and knelt to pick up the bowl that had held the fish stew. He turned just as the first of the sec men reached the rocky ledge and pulled themselves up. They stayed back from Kane.

  Holding the Copperhead in one hand and the chalice in the other, Kane turned toward Lindstrohm, who remained floating behind Brigid. Kane noted in grim satisfaction that Domi had hauled herself up onto the submarine and had taken a position behind the conning tower.

  The albino thumbed fresh cartridges into her blaster and kept a wary eye on the sec men occupying the other end of the rocky ledge from Kane. So far, none of them seemed intent on encroaching on Kane's space.

  Grant crawled up onto the submarine, as well, and took up a position beside Domi. Blood streamed from a wound in his upper left arm.

  "You okay?" Kane asked.

  "Been better," Grant growled, adding another stripper clip to the M-14.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33