Treasure of Khan (Dirk Pitt 19) - Page 107

At the other end of the driveway, the mounted guards had been of little concern. A chorus of snorts and whinnies still blared from the horses, who had no conception of why the ground was shaking beneath their hooves. Three of the terrified horses reared repeatedly, their riders clutching the reins for dear life. A fourth horse up and bolted, galloping full tilt across the drive, stomping the bodies of the dead guards as it streaked petrified toward the horse corral.

The violent bucking lasted for nearly a minute, making the prone observers feel as if their bodies were being tossed into the air. Inside Borjin's residence, there was a chaotic crashing of glass and fixtures as the lights began flickering out. Across the compound, a lone alarm wailed feebly from inside the lab building.

And then it ended. The rumbling ceased, the shaking gradually fell away, and an eerie calm fell over the compound. The lights around the portico had fallen dead, casting Pitt and the others in a thankful darkness. But he knew the gun battle was far from over.

Gazing at the others, he saw Theresa and Wofford were unhurt, but that a streak of red flowed down Giordino's left leg. Giordino perused the wound with a look of minor inconvenience.

"Sorry, boss. Caught a ricochet from Machine Gun Kelly. No bones, though."

Pitt nodded, then turned toward the horsemen, whose mounts were now quieting.

"Take cover behind the support columns. Quick," Pitt directed. He barely spoke the words when a rifleshot rang out from one of the horsemen.

With a slight limp, Giordino dragged Tatiana to the base of one of the columns while Theresa and Wofford hunkered down behind an adjacent column. Pitt fired a covering round in the general direction of the shooter before scrambling behind a third column. Tucked behind the marble columns, they were at least temporarily clear of the line of fire from both the residence and the horsemen.

With their horses settled, the five remaining mounted guards could freely open fire and randomly peppered the three columns. But while their quarry was now hidden from view, they stood exposed on open ground. In a quick lunge, Giordino leaned around his column and let loose two quick shots at the nearest horseman, then ducked back behind cover. The targeted guard took a hit to the leg and shoulder as his comrades returned fire, chipping the stone column concealing Giordino. The wounded rider dropped his rifle and made a hasty retreat toward some bushes behind the drive. With Giordino drawing fire, Pitt took a turn, leaning out and firing two shots, nicking one of the other guards in the arm. The patrol leader barked a command and the remaining horsemen bolted toward the rear bushes.

Giordino turned toward Pitt's position. "They'll be back. A dollar says they're dismounting and will counterattack on foot."

"Probably trying to flank us as we speak," Pitt replied. He thought of Gunn and reached down for his radio, but it wasn't there. It had been knocked off during the earthquake and lay somewhere in the dark.

"Lost the radio," he said, cursing.

"I doubt Rudi can do anything more to help us. I've only got five shots left," he added.

Pitt had only a few rounds left in his Colt as well. With Wofford and Giordino both hobbled, they couldn't move far in a hurry. The guards were no doubt forming a noose around the compound and would close in from three sides. Pitt looked to the open front door and decided the residence might be the best option for a defensive stand. It had been strangely silent. Perhaps he and Giordino had hit the guard after all and only Borjin was hiding inside.

Pitt rose to a knee and prepared to lead the others toward the entry when a shadow flashed by the doorway. In the faint light, Pitt detected what appeared to be the muzzle of a gun poking out. A sudden rustle in the rosebushes to his back told him it was too late. The trap had been set with no means of escape. Outgunned, outmanned, and with nowhere to hide, they would have to make a final stand alone where they stood.

Then a deep rumble echoed off the hillsides. It was similar, but strangely different, to the roar that had preceded the earthquake. And with it came a new and unexpected cataclysm of death.

-58-

PITT LISTENED, and noted that the rumble originated up the mountain rather than beneath the ground. It was a thundering noise that refused to wane, growing louder each second. The tone seemed to transform from a rumble to a rush as it drew closer. Everybody in the compound stared toward the main entrance, where the sound seemed to be heading. Unbelievably, the rushing noise grew still louder till it matched the roar of a dozen 747 jumbo jets blasting down a runway in unison. Over the din, a pair of panicked shouts burst forth near the compound entrance. Unseen outside the walls, the two front-entry guards hurried to open the heavy iron gate. Their cries and bid to escape vanished under the crushing face of a giant wall of water.

A quarter mile upstream, the earthquake had triggered a deep chasm perpendicular to the riverbank. The raging river waters swirled in a confused vortex as the force of gravity led it in a new direction. Near the mouth of the aqueduct, the entire river shifted laterally, staking a new course alongside the elevated dirt road.

The river had rushed toward Borjin's compound before pooling in a large depression. A high berm, built as an equipment causeway between the road and the aqueduct, created an unintended dam within sight of the compound. The surging waters filled the depression, turning it into a large reservoir before the surplus flow began dribbling over the top. The overflowing water cut a crack in the dirt wall that quickly expanded to its base. In a flash, the entire berm collapsed under its own weight, releasing a surging wall of water.

The accumulated pool of icy black water burst toward the compound in a ten-foot-high wave. The front guards, oblivious to the approaching floodwaters until it was too late, were crushed by the wave as it smashed into the gate and gushed over the compound walls. The torrent lost little momentum before ripping away the front gate while also breaching a large hole through the wall above the aqueduct. The two swells of water merged forces inside the compound and surged toward the residence in a six-foot-high rolling wave.

Pitt gazed at the approaching wall of water and knew there was no chance of them outrunning it, especially Giordino and Wofford. Sizing up the surroundings, he saw one chance at survival.

"Grab hold of the columns and hang on," he shouted.

T

he Doric marble columns supporting the portico were deeply fluted, allowing a firm grasp to be made on the vertically cut edges. Theresa and Wofford stretched their arms completely around a column and linked hands. Giordino reached a thick arm around his column, keeping the Makarov held tight in his other hand. Tatiana abandoned her fright of getting shot and fearfully wrapped her arms around Giordino's waist in the face of the watery onslaught. Pitt barely had time to lie flat, grab the column, and hold his breath before the deluge hit.

But the shriek of men's voices arrived first. Encircling the drive in stealth, the guards were caught flat-footed by the floodwaters. The men were swept off their feet and devoured by the wave as it rolled toward the residence. Pitt heard the agonized cry of one guard just a few feet away as he was propelled toward the house by the surge.

The wave followed the path of least resistance, rolling across the northern part of the compound and mostly bypassing the lab and garage. Accompanied by a deep rumble, the advancing wave slammed into the residence with a crash. As Pitt had hoped, the marble columns took the brunt of the impact, but his legs were still ripped off the ground and pulled toward the house. He gripped the column tightly as the initial surge passed over and then the forceful tug of the water gradually receded. The initial fear of being battered and washed away by the flood was supplanted by the shock of the icy water. The bitter-cold water sucked the air out of his lungs and stung his skin like a thousand sharp needles. Grabbing the column, he pulled himself to his feet, finding the floodwaters had dropped to thigh level. At the adjacent column, he saw Giordino pull Tatiana up from under the water, the Mongolian woman coughing and sputtering. A second later, Theresa and Wofford emerged at the next column, gasping from the cold.

The wall of water had barreled into the house on its quest for a new pathway down the mountainside. Though two feet of water swirled through a crater-sized opening that had been the front door, the bulk of the floodwaters had been repelled from the heavy structure. The tormented waters finally surged around the northern end of the residence, pouring over the back-side cliff in a wide waterfall. Faint screams echoed above the river's rumble from scattered men who had survived the impact only to be washed downstream. Nearby, a loud splash pronounced that the northern tip of the residence had crumbled under the force of the rushing waters.

The surge and current eased at the front of the house, and Pitt waded toward the others congregating at Giordino's column. He grimly noted the stiff bodies of several guards floating about the driveway. Reaching the column, he found Theresa staring at him through glazed eyes while shivering uncontrollably. Even the rocklike Giordino appeared numb, the effect of the gunshot wound with the icy immersion sending him on a path to shock. Pitt knew they would all be facing hypothermia shortly if they didn't escape the freezing water.

"We need to get to dry ground. This way," he said, motioning toward the lab, which stood on a slightly elevated rise. Wofford helped guide Theresa while Pitt made sure Tatiana didn't stray from Giordino. He need not have worried, as Borjin's sister was quietly subdued from the icy bath.

Tags: Clive Cussler Dirk Pitt Thriller
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