She crossed and helped him sit on the closed lid of a chest.
He gaped around, blearily. “You found it.”
She nodded, wishing she hadn’t. She kept hold of his hand, feeling the tremoring, the clammy chill to his skin, signs of pending shock.
“I . . . I couldn’t stop them,” he mumbled.
She wanted to tell him they had been doomed from the start, fighting a faceless enemy with near-unlimited resources. Instead, she offered him hope, knowing he needed it, even if it was a lie.
“It’s not over yet,” she whispered.
Voices, full of sharp command, carried down to them, echoing from above. Earlier, she had already tried stomping on the lowest step, to seal them back inside, to protect what was here. Still, it had failed, which was likely for the best. As Laurent had said, the enemy would’ve eventually found a way to dig down here.
And I would’ve never had a chance for this reunion, brief though it may be.
Duncan looked toward the stairs. “I thought maybe destiny brought us all together. That there was some guiding hand beyond blind chance and cruel coincidence.” He shrugged heavily and turned back to her. “But it’s only us.”
“Maybe that’s enough.” She stared around the room, while clutching the book in her other hand. “Look at the miracle we uncovered.”
She told him about the Temple of Fire, of lead turning to gold, and the transformation they had witnessed. As she did, he smiled at her through the blood and strain. He had never looked more handsome.
Then from the tunnel, a small metallic egg bounced and rattled into the chamber.
Archie backed away, naming the threat. “Grenade.”
Before anyone could move, it exploded.
64
12:55 p.m.
Crouched on the dark steps, Keir clamped his palms over his ears. It wasn’t enough. A shockwave pounded up the stairwell and crushed his chest. Even with his head turned, the fiery flash stung his eyes.
Still, he ignored the pain, too exulted to feel anything but triumph.
Earlier, a trail of blood had led them to a door at the bunker’s lowest level, which opened onto this steep stair. Captain Ferhat had sent a man ahead, equipped with a night-vision scope. The soldier dropped down into a lower tunnel and reported a large chamber, fiery with gold. Their stubborn targets were holed up inside. To soften the enemy, Ferhat had his man toss in a flashbang charge.
Keir rubbed his eyes.
The blast certainly lived up to its name.
As it ended, Ferhat stabbed an arm ahead. “Go!”
A dozen men pounded down the last steps and into the tunnel. Ferhat reserved one man to keep at their side, then turned to Keir. “Do you wish to wait until we’ve fully secured the site?”
“Fuck that. Just get us down there.” He glanced behind to Tissot and his aide. “We’ll stay at the rear. But I want to ensure your men don’t damage anything that might prove critical.”
Especially Saint-Germain’s book.
That was more important than a chamber full of gold.
For this reason, Keir had made sure only a flashbang had been deployed below and not one of the grenades hanging on the captain’s bandolier. The site had to be preserved and protected. To that end, before entering the bunker, while he still had satellite contact, he had tried to reach Burman, to have her ready all their reserved forces. If anything important was found here, they needed to lock down this mountain.
Unfortunately, she never answered, which angered him at the time, but it hadn’t deterred him from following Ferhat and his men into the bunker.
And it won’t stop me now.
Keir waved to Ferhat. “Let’s go.”
