The tunnel came to an abrupt end.
Annja swung her flashlight up and examined the ceiling. There was no hint of a door. Whatever had been there all those years ago had filled in with silt and debris.
“Move,” Garin ordered, slinging his assault rifle and reaching into the combat vest he wore. He extracted a grayish lump of what looked like modeling clay. “Plastic explosive. There’s going to be a lot of noise. Cover your ears and get back.”
Annja grabbed Tanisha’s arm and pulled her back. Hallinger had one of Ganesvoort’s arms slung over his shoulders and was supporting the man’s weight. Both of them were breathing hard, almost to the point of exhaustion. She knew they couldn’t go on much farther.
Garin prepared the charge.
When the plastic explosive detonated, a thousand pounds or more of mud was blown outward. A lot of the mud came down, splattering all of them.
Even with her ears covered and her mouth open to equalize pressure, Annja was temporarily deafened by the blast. The concussive force had knocked everyone to the ground.
But when the chaos ended, the hole was open and passable.
Annja recovered quickest. She pushed herself to her feet and climbed up the pile of muddy earth, emerging into the rain on a slope overlooking the valley. Getting her bearings, she looked around and spotted the camp. She could see a group of men guarding Kamil and Bashir.
The two boys sat on the rear deck of a jeep, looking wet and frightened. Their hands were bound.
The explosion had alerted the guards. One of them manned the .50-caliber machine gun mounted on the rear deck and he opened fire immediately.
Garin was just climbing out of the hole.
“Down!” Annja shouted. She couldn’t really hear herself so she wasn’t sure if he heard her. She ran toward Garin, leaping up and hitting him squarely in the chest with both feet.
Caught by surprise and hit hard, Garin tumbled back into the hole.
Annja hit the ground and rolled down the incline. The machine gun rattled, the rounds tearing chunks out of the ground as the gunner closed the range. She realized that somewhere in the chaos she’d lost the assault rifle and the pistol. All she had now was her sword.
That’s all I need, she told herself grimly. She leaped, throwing herself forward in a swan dive down a particularly steep section of the hill. Hitting hard, she rolled and slid behind a copse of baobob trees. The extraordinarily thick trunks of the trees provided good cover.
Annja stayed in motion, though, circling the trees to the left. Bullets hammered the trees, shearing through some of the smaller branches and dropping them to the ground.
Once in the tree line near the camp, there was plenty of cover. She used it, closing in on the guards.
Almost on top of them, Annja spotted Jaineba stretched out on the ground. The old woman’s chest was soaked with blood.
Horror and anger shot through Annja, forming a powerful concoction of emotions. She summoned the sword to her right hand and ran.
The men were busily engaged exchanging shots with someone on the hill. She thought it might be Garin or McIntosh, or perhaps both. They were having a hard time because Kamil and Bashir were too close.
The three guards suddenly turned to face her, bringing their weapons to bear.
Annja willed herself to go dead inside. There was no option to be merciful. Whatever chance the boys had depended on her.
She ran straight at the men, plunging the sword through the heart of the first man, then stopping her forward momentum and pivoting on her right foot, yanking the sword free as she came around. Still holding on to the sword with both hands, she whirled, cutting the second man as she sliced through his ribs under his right arm and through his heart.
Lifting a foot, she kicked the dying man free of the sword and turned to engage the third man, who was aiming the machine gun toward her. The heavy-caliber rounds tore through the ground and the brush and poked holes in some of the tents and one of the Land Rovers.
Annja threw the sword, stepping into the effort with all the grace of a baseball pitcher delivering a fastball. The sword sailed straight and true, piercing the man through the solar plexus and knocking him back from the machine gun.
Vaulting up onto the jeep, Annja grabbed the sword and willed it away. She tore at the ropes that bound the boys, then tucked them into the back seats of the jeep.
She ran to Jaineba and saw that her chest rose and fell in a shallow rhythm. Annja carried the woman and belted her into the passenger seat. Jaineba groaned in pain and Annja chose to view that as a good sign.
Bullets were cutting leaves from the trees, coming from the group of men boiling from the sinkhole. Tafari led them.
Luck was with her. The jeep didn’t require keys. All it had was a starter button. Annja hit the button and got the engine turning over.
“Hang on!” she shouted to the boys, then let out the clutch. All four tires screamed for traction on the wet ground. After they’d chewed through the top layer of mud, they grabbed hold and sent the jeep screaming forward.
Driving wildly, in skips and jumps, Annja brought the jeep to a stop in front of Hallinger and Ganesvoort. She got out while McIntosh, Garin and three other men provided covering fire.
After helping Hallinger put Ganesvoort into the back of the jeep, Annja turned to Tanisha and said, “Get them out of here.”
Tanisha didn’t hesitate to slide quickly behind the wheel. She took off and bullets chased the jeep up the hillside.
Garin tossed Annja one of the assault rifles he was carrying. “I picked that up where you dropped it. You’ll need to reload.”
Annja did, taking a magazine from the bandolier across her chest.
From a prone position, Garin fired spaced shots that took down targets among Tafari’s skull-faced warriors.
“According to the map,” Annja said, “there’s a rope suspension bridge over a hundred-foot chasm only a few miles to the west. If we can get another vehicle, and if we can beat Tafari there, we might be able to stage a strategic retreat.”
“I hate retreats,” Garin said. “Just means you have to fight someone again. I’d rather finish this.”
“We’re severely outnumbered here,” Annja pointed out.
“Yeah,” McIntosh said, firing deliberately, “but the numbers are getting less and less all the time.”
A growling-engine noise arrived about two seconds before the jeep did. It screamed up the hill on the blind side, airborne and almost coming down on top of them.
Annja threw herself to one side, waited till the jeep landed, then sped in pursuit. If it had kept going, she would never have caught it, but the driver cut the wheels to come around in a tight turn. Still running, Annja ripped bursts through the driver and his two passengers before they recognized her as a threat.
The jeep stalled out.
Annja grabbed the dead men’s clothes and hauled them out. She crawled behind the wheel. She pulled the vehicle around and headed back to the others.
“Let’s go!” she shouted over the gunfire.
Tafari and his men were loading into vehicles. It wouldn’t be long before their position on the hillside was overrun.
As soon as the last man was aboard the jeep, Annja released the clutch and sped off in the direction Tanisha had driven. She hoped Tanisha had remembered the bridge. As Annja topped the rise, she saw that the bridge was closer than she’d thought, just at the bottom of the hill. Tanisha was already headed across it.
Annja drove as fast as she dared, closing in on Tanisha. The jeep slewed wildly as she overdrove the control. She had to downshift to recover, and lost speed doing so.
But they were closing on the suspension bridge. Tanisha was already halfway across.
“Get ready,” McIntosh called from the back. “They’re coming. Start evasive maneuvers.”
Annja rolled the steering wheel back and forth, feeling the soft earth peeling away under the tires. Worse than that, the gearbox was picking up mud. She feared it might fail at any moment.
“Incoming!” McIntosh yelled. “Bear right! Bear right!”
Annja pulled hard right, almost flipping the jeep. Beside her, Garin cursed.
The grenade landed just ahead of them to the left. Mud rained down on them and a yawning crater opened up. It was close enough that Annja’s left tires both dipped sickeningly into the hole and threw her out of control again.
McIntosh brought up his rifle and fired steadily.
Glancing at the cracked rearview mirror, Annja saw one of the men fall from the lead pursuit jeep then get run over by one of the others.
At least three vehicles followed them. Annja knew even if they made it across the bridge, they’d never be able to escape. And they were being followed too closely to stop and somehow destroy the bridge.
If we stop, Tafari will put one of those grenades right into us, she thought. The best Annja could hope was that the blast would destroy the bridge and Tanisha and her sons would go free.
She turned to Garin. “Take the wheel.”
He stared at her. “What?”
“Take the wheel!” When Garin did, Annja squeezed out onto the running board and let him take her seat.
“What are you doing?” McIntosh yelled.
“A true act of desperation,” Annja replied. She knew she’d be pushing her strength and speed to the limits—if she pulled off what she was thinking of. And there was a good chance that she wouldn’t.
But it was all that she had left.
“Incoming!” McIntosh yelled again.
“Hold on!” Garin warned, then he yanked the wheel.
This time they almost drove straight through the explosion. The concussion nearly tore Annja from the jeep. Smoke and mud filled the air and nearly overcame her.
When she looked forward, she saw they were at the bridge. The tires rumbled over the wooden planks, and the vehicle swung and swayed enough that Annja felt certain they’d never make it across.
A rocket from another jeep shot past them, then impacted on the opposite chasm wall. The sound of the explosion echoed in the hundred-foot drop.
Garin cursed.
Tafari abandoned his rocket launcher and took up his assault rifle. Standing in his seat, he shot at Annja.
Annja held tight. Tafari’s jeep had gained the bridge. She waited for the right moment, then released her hold on the jeep and leaped. She grabbed hold of the bridge’s rope support and somehow managed not to be torn free. She spun around and touched down on her feet. Reaching over her shoulder, she took a deep breath and summoned the sword.
Realizing what the madwoman intended to do, Tafari shouted at the driver, “Run her down! Run her down now or we are dead men!”
The jeep wobbled dangerously.
“Keep it on the bridge!” Tafari howled. “Keep it on the bridge or I’ll kill you!” He pointed the assault rifle at the driver’s head.
Annja raised the sword and prepared to cut the ropes.
It’s too soon! Tafari realized, watching the jeeps on the other side. The first vehicle was clear of the bridge, but the second vehicle would be lost if she cut the ropes too soon.
Everything slowed down in Annja’s mind. She saw Tafari’s jeep bearing down on her. She cut one rope and swung out over the gorge. The maneuver took her out of the path of the bullets and bought a little time. It had to be enough.
Annja swept the sword through the bridge supports on the left side. Garin had made it safely across the gorge. Ahead of her, Tafari stood up in the jeep and tried to swing his rifle around.
Too late, Annja thought, feeling the bridge tilt sickeningly.
The bridge twisted. Tafari kept his finger on the trigger, firing the whole way through. Bullets cut the air beside Annja, coming within inches.
Swinging wildly, she saw a white clay pot spill from a pack in the rear of Tafari’s jeep.
The plague!
She made a grab but the jar slid over the edge of the failing bridge. The remaining ropes gave way, and Tafari’s jeep flew out over the gorge. When it hit the ground, it exploded into an orange fireball.
Breathing hard, hardly believing she was still alive, Annja clung to the shredded ropes as Tafari’s surviving warriors lined up at the gorge’s edge and brought their weapons to bear.
Twisting, Annja swung through the air away from her enemies. She turned to meet the gorge wall with bended legs.
For a moment, sporadic fire hammered the gorge face around her. Then she heard rifles from above and knew that Garin and McIntosh were returning fire. Tafari’s remaining men quickly lost interest in being a private shooting gallery and backed away from the gorge.
Annja held on to the rope, caught her breath and made the long climb to the top.