The helicopter with Zovastina leveled off overhead and headed east, back toward the house and the valley beyond.
“While you fought her,” he told Vitt, “I activated the turtles inside the chopper. They’re now programmed to detonate when the ones inside the house are told to explode.” He motioned. “That controller will make that happen.”
She scooped it from the ground.
But he quickly brought his gun to her head. “Careful.”
CASSIOPEIA GLARED AT VIKTOR, HER FINGER ON THE CONTROLLER button. Could she push it before he shot her? Perhaps he was wondering the same thing?
“You need to choose,” he said. “Your Ely and Malone may still be in the house. Killing Zovastina could also kill them.”
She had to trust that Malone had the situation in hand. But she also realized something else. “How could anyone possibly know when to trust you? You’ve played every side.”
“My job was to end this. That’s what we’re about to do.”
“Killing Zovastina might not be the answer.”
“It’s the only answer. She won’t stop otherwise.”
She considered his statement. He was right.
“I was going to do it myself,” he said. “But I thought you’d like the honor.”
“The gun in my face for show?” she quietly asked.
“The guards can’t see your hand.”
“How do I know, when I do this, you won’t shoot me in the face.”
He answered her honestly. “You don’t.”
The chopper was beyond the house, out over the grassy meadow, maybe a thousand feet high.
“If you wait any longer,” he said. “The signal will not reach.”
She shrugged. “Never thought I’d make old age anyway.”
And she pressed the button.
STEPHANIE WATCHED FROM THIRTY FEET AWAY AS VIKTOR AIMED his gun at Cassiopeia. She’d seen him lay something on the ground, but Cassiopeia faced away and it was impossible to know what was happening.
The helicopter became a flying fireball.
No explosion. Just brilliant light erupting from all sides, like a supernova, its volatile fuel quickly joining the mélange in a destruction that thundered across the valley. Flaming chunks of debris propelled outward, then rained down in a fiery cascade. At the same instant, windows on the mansion’s ground floor shattered outward, the frames filled with a raging blaze.
Cassiopeia rose, with Viktor’s aid.
“Seems he is a help,” Thorvaldsen said, noticing, too.
Viktor pointed at the two guards and barked out orders in what she thought was Russian.
The men dashed away.
Cassiopeia fled toward the house.
They followed.
MALONE TOPPED THE STAIRS BEHIND ELY AND REENTERED THE library. Thumps echoed from somewhere inside the house and he immediately noticed a change in temperature.
“Those things have been activated.”
Outside the library door fire sprang to life. More thumps. Closer. Plenty of heat. Building. He bolted to the door and glanced both ways. The corridor at each end was impassable, flames were consuming the floor and headed his way. He recalled what Ely had said. I have that stuff all over me. He turned and studied the towering windows. Maybe ten feet by eight feet. Beyond, in the valley, he noticed something burning in the distance. There would only be a few more seconds before the fire arrived.
“Give me a hand.”
He saw Ely stuff the flash drive into his pocket and grab one end of a small settee. Malone grasped the other. Together they tossed it through the windows. Glass shattered as the sofa propelled outward, clearing a path, but too many shards remained for them to leap through.
“Use the chairs,” he yelled.
Fire wrapped itself inside the doorway and started its assault of the library walls. Books and shelves erupted. Malone gripped a chair and rammed it through what remained of the window. Ely used another chair to scrape away jagged remnants.
The floor started to burn.
Everything basted with Greek fire quickly identified itself.
No more time.
They both leaped through the window.
CASSIOPEIA HEARD GLASS BREAK AS SHE, VIKTOR, THORVALDSEN, and Stephanie ran closer to the destruction. She saw a settee fly out and crash to the ground. She’d taken a chance killing Zovastina, with Malone and Ely still inside, but, like Malone would say, Whether right or wrong, just do something.
Another chair flew out the window.
Then Malone and Ely leaped out as the room behind them filled with waves of bright orange.
Malone’s exit was not as graceful as it had been in Copenhagen. His right shoulder slammed to the grass and he tumbled. Ely, too, hit hard, rolled a few times, his arms shielding his head.
Cassiopeia ran to them. Ely stared up at her. She smiled and said, “You having fun?”
“About like you? What happened to your face?”
“Got the crap beat out of me. But I had the last laugh.”
She helped him to his feet and they hugged.
“You stink,” she noted.
“Greek fire. The latest fragrance.”
“What about me?” Malone grunted, as he stood and brushed himself off. “No ‘how are you?’ Good to see that you’re not a crispy critter?”
She shook her head and hugged him, too.
“How many buses ran you over?” Malone asked, noticing her face.
“Just one.”
“You two know each other?” Ely asked.
“We’re acquainted.”
She saw Malone’s face sour as he spotted Viktor. “What’s he doing here?”
“Believe it or not,” she said, “he’s on our side. I think.”
Stephanie pointed to fires in the distance and men running toward them. “Zovastina’s dead.”
“Terrible thing,” Viktor said. “Tragic helicopter crash. Witnessed by four of her militia. She’ll be given a glorious funeral.”
“And Daniels will have to make sure that the next Supreme Minister of the Central Asian Federation is more friendly,” Stephanie said.
Cassiopeia spotted dots in the western sky growing larger. “We’ve got company.”
They watched as the aircraft drew closer.