The Hunt for Atlantis

The Hunt for Atlantis by Andy McDermott Page B

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Authors: Andy McDermott
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its hinges. He watched it whirl away like a giant square Frisbee and crash down on the slope below.
    Chase looked under the vehicle. The nearest soldiers were all either injured or dead, but the others were recovering from the shock of the explosion. At least ten of them, all armed.
    All angry.
    Kari’s long white coat immediately caught his eye by the helicopter. One of Hajjar’s bodyguards held her, and the Iranian captain was covering her with his pistol as he screamed orders to his men.
    Nina—
    The soldier who’d tackled her had his arms wrapped around her in a bear hug as he dragged her backwards.
    No way he could risk a shot. And his G3 only had a few bullets left anyway.
    Mind racing, he assessed the situation.
    Nina was relatively safe for the moment, even as a captive, but it wouldn’t take long for one of the Iranians to get the idea to use her as a hostage, forcing him to surrender. Hajjar and Captain Mahjad spoke English—and they had heard Kari order him to protect Nina above everything else …
    Which meant that to protect her right now, he had to abandon her.
    He grabbed the G3 and crouched in the cover of the smoking Land Rover as he backed away—then sprang up and fired his remaining bullets in a sweep. He was deliberately aiming high, not trying to hit anyone but instead forcing them to duck, confusing them as he ran, sprinting for the steep slope down to the valley floor.
    Rifles crackled behind him as the solders opened fire.
    The valley opened out below, the lazy curve of the railway lines vanishing into the tunnel.
    A bullet hissed past his head, close enough for him to feel its shockwave. He jumped, clearing the edge of the slope, and flew through the air to land on—
    The Land Rover’s door!
    It skidded down the hill in a flurry of dust and gravel, Chase clinging to it like a child on a speeding sled.
    He knew it wouldn’t take him far—the slope was too rocky. But he didn’t need it to. He just needed the extra yards it could give him before the soldiers reached the edge and fired down after him.
    A boulder loomed ahead, poking out of the hillside like a bad tooth. Chase jumped again, throwing himself sideways and hitting the ground hard as the door smashed into the rock and crumpled like cardboard. He tried to use his feet to brake himself, but he was moving too fast and tumbled helplessly down the hill. Grit spat into his face, blinding him.
    Gunfire from above!
    Something whipped against him. Not a bullet, but plants, tough grass and scrubby bushes. That meant he was near the bottom. But how near?
    He forced his eyes open against the stinging dust… and saw the ground drop out from under him.
    With a yell that echoed all the way back to the top of the slope, Chase fell into empty space.
    One of the soldiers winced. “Ow. That’ll hurt.” The foreigner had shot right over the top of the entrance to the railway tunnel and plunged out of sight onto the tracks.
    “Serves the bastard right!” snarled the man next to him. Special forces or not, a drop that high onto the unforgiving steel and concrete of a railway line would break a bone or two, maybe even kill a man.
    Mahjad strode over to them and looked down. The Englishman’s route down the steep slope was easy to follow, a trail of drifting dust winding down to the tunnel. “Get the ropes,” he ordered. “I want three men to go down there and find him. If he’s dead, take his body to the train yard. If he’s alive …” his face twisted with a mix of anger and sadistic humor, “take his body to the train yard.”
    “Sir!” The soldiers saluted, three of them preparing to descend the slope.
    Mahjad walked back to Hajjar. The fleeing Russian had been recaptured, and now stood under guard with the other prisoners. “This is all your fault!” Mahjad snapped, jabbing a finger into Hajjar’s face. “You didn’t tell me he was some sort of trained assassin!”
    “I didn’t know myself!” Hajjar blustered. “I thought he

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