*Finishes writing* And that's a wrap on this chapter! And it's only- oh my god, over seven thousand words? That's more than twice my usual chapter length! *Shrugs* Oh well, who said consistency was a thing?
November 11, 2009
Nate and Elena's apartment:
Elena was awakened suddenly by a noise and sat up with a start, gripping the armrest of the couch on which she had fallen asleep fully clothed. When had she fallen asleep? Last she could remember she was staring at the empty yellow armchair- the one she and Nate had found on the side of the road in their quest to stock their humble abode with furniture- and sipping on a cup of coffee while she waited and worried about Nate and when he would come home. A quick glance at the clock told her that it was now four thirty-five in the morning; her coffee cup still sat on the table in front of the couch, half-full of coffee with cream that was now ice cold, and the chair across from her was still empty. Where is he?
The noise came again, and this time she recognized it as the deadbolt on the front door being turned, and she leaped up from the couch and ran to open it. The door swung slowly open and Nate stepped in, head down, but immediately lifted his eyes to meet his wife's. Instantly, the blood drained from Elena's face.
Nate was clutching his left shoulder, fresh blood visible on his fingers, soaking the sleeve of his shirt, and trickling out from under the cuff which was pushed up to his elbow. He grimaced and sucked air between his teeth as he smiled with as much composure as he could manage. "Hey, 'Lena. Didn't know you were gonna wait up for me."
"Nate?" she squeaked, her voice cracking partly from shock and partly from having just woken up. "Oh my god, what happened?"
Nate winced and started walking toward the kitchen. "Ah, I guess it doesn't take a psychopath with a grandiose scheme to take over the world to get out a gun and start shooting when you're on his property and in process of trying to rob him."
Elena, who had been left behind at the door when he started walking away, suddenly came to grips with the situation and ran and grabbed him by his uninjured shoulder. "Where do you think you're going? Go sit down at the table, and I'll get some bandages." Giving him a gentle shove in the direction of the dining room table, Elena rushed to the kitchen and opened one of the cabinets. Reaching inside, she pulled out an old ammunition box Nate had bought at an army surplus store and brought it to the table, setting it down beside Nate, who had just deflated on one of the wooden chairs. "Now let's just get this shirt off of you..."
Nate taking his hand away was accompanied by the sticky sound of blood that had grown tacky and begun gluing his skin together. He winced at the sensation of tearing his hand away from the wound, and then helped Elena pull his shirt up and over his head to be tossed aside on the hardwood floor. The wound was deep and not especially clean, having ragged edges where it entered in the muscular top part of his arm and exited a few inches back, by his left shoulder blade. She was relieved to see the exit wound- the last thing she wanted to have to do was dig a bullet out of his body right now.
Popping the latch on the ammunition box, she hinged the lid open and retrieved some antiseptic wipes, tearing open the paper package. "Now hold still," she said softly. "This is going to hurt a little." He hissed as the alcohol made contact with his raw flesh and turned his head to the side, biting his lip against the pain. Elena flipped the wipe to a clean side and went over the wound again, then threw it on top of his shirt and pulled out a second wipe to clean the exit point. "There!" she announced, returning to the ammo box to pull out a roll of bandages. "We'll get this all wrapped up, and then it's time for you to go to bed." Nate sat obediently still and stared at the far wall of the living room as she wrapped the bandages around his chest and shoulder.
Reaching the end of the roll, Elena tugged gently on the bandage, pulling it snug, and then secured it with a butterfly clip. She sighed wearily and leaned back in her chair, glumly examining her handiwork. "Nate," she groaned, "how many times are we going to be in this situation of me patching you up after a job gone sour before you wake up to just how dangerous this is? If that bullet had hit you just a little bit further to the left, that would have been it!"
Nate's lowered his gaze, shamefaced. "I know, Elena. I know." There was a moment of silence where he collected his thoughts, and then he continued. "I just want to be everything that you expected me to be, ya know, when we got married..." He looked up at her, searching for understanding. "I want to get us a decent place to live, so we're not always stuck in this dive. I want to give you a good life, provide for you," he shrugged limply. "I guess just- be a man for you!"
"You don't have to spend all your time getting shot at to be a man!" Elena protested, inadvertently raising her voice. "We've been over this before, Nate. There's about a thousand and one ways you could make a living for us that wouldn't involve the kind of risk you put up with on a daily basis. I know you're a hero, Nate. You don't have to do this to prove something to me. At some point you have to be honest with yourself." She narrowed her eyes slightly, her tone becoming more pointed. "What is it that you really want?"
Nate steadily held her gaze, then suddenly stood up, nearly knocking his chair over. "Maybe I'm afraid, 'dyou ever think of that?" he asked, his own volume level rising in response to the foreign and frightening prospect of actually baring his soul to another person. "The man you fell in love with was fighting zombies and weird yeti guardians and psychopathic war criminals, and maybe I'm afraid that you won't like average Joe, nine-to-five Drake as much as you think you will. Maybe I'm afraid that if I just settle for being an average guy in a world of average guys that someday we'll find out that it's really true, that all it takes for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing." He scoffed lightly. "Maybe I'm afraid that I won't like average Joe me."
A bit taken aback by Nate's unprecedented display of emotion, Elena dialed back the intensity as she softly replied, "Nate, I fell in love with you not because you were the type of man who would go toe-to-toe with Lazarevich, but because you were the type of man who wouldn't leave Jeff the cameraman behind even when it cost you." She looked at him earnestly. "That's the hero I love you for being Nate. That's all I'm asking for, is to know you'll be there."
Nate looked at her with seething turmoil on his face. "So saving Jeff is fine, but saving the world is a different story?" He shook his head angrily. "I don't know, Elena."
As he stormed off to their room, Elena sighed and rested her chin in her hand, tapping it with her index finger and frowning. She facepalmed, shaking her head wearily, then rose and walked into the kitchen to make some breakfast.
Nate burst out of the narrow squeeze at the entrance to the passage, emerging into the misty darkness of the hours before dawn. Immediately he was driven back by raking machine gun fire, and he pressed himself against the side of the mountain as an armored Hum-Vee with a turret mounted on top drove by. He felt someone bump into him as the others of their group piled up behind him at the entrance, and he stepped out again, gun drawn and ready, just as a black armored truck pulled up and stopped several yards away, broadside facing him. The heavily-tinted window rolled down and Floki's face appeared, grinning like a cat.
"Thanks for the tour guide, Drake!" he bellowed, rolling down the back window to reveal Ming jie who was bound, gagged, and panic-stricken. "Him and these photos should really come in handy!" Floki added, waving Ming's phone out the window nonchalantly.
"Give him back, you bastard!" Nate shouted, raising his gun to point at the burly Scandinavian.
Ming's window began to roll back up as Floki continued carelessly, "While you're in town, try the Sake, I hear it's delicious!" As his window began to roll up, he closed with a, "Goodbye, Drake." At the last moment a grenade came flying out, landing right in front of Nate, and the truck accelerated away, sending turf flying in its wake.
"GET BACK!" Nate screamed, shoving the gang back into the tunnel as he dove for cover. The boom was deafening, and Nate shielded his head with his hands as shrapnel rained down around him. He groaned and pushed himself to his feet, coughing on the dust cloud that was left in the wake of the explosion, and staggered out of the tunnel again.
"Son of a- cough- bitch!" he growled, staring after the retreating convoy. Turning on his heel, he sprinted to the SUV along with the others. Elena ended up wedged in between Nate and Sully in the backseat while Charlie rode shotgun and Chloe fell into the driver's seat with a hiss of pain as her arm that had been shot banged up against the console. Throwing her seat belt on for good measure, Chloe spun the wheel and pegged the accelerator to the floor, and the SUV lurched to life, sliding around the corner of the outcropping and then racing after Floki's gang, the tail lights of which were now just tiny dots in the far distance. The engine drone became a roar as the tires left the grass behind in favor of the paved roads, momentarily breaking traction on the wet blacktop before picking up speed. In the rear view mirror, Nate saw Chloe's eyes flick up and then back down, and they narrowed as she spoke, "Nate! We've got a tail!"
He twisted to see out the back window. Sure enough, another armored Hummer was swooping in behind them like a hawk diving for its prey, the silhouette of a person with a submachine gun hanging out the back window bearing witness to their intentions.
"Aw, shit!" Nate cursed. He pulled out his 9 mil and reached for a fresh clip until Charlie stopped him.
"Here, mate," he said, handing him the AK-47 Chloe had taken from the thug down in the lab. "No time for child's play."
Nate managed a grin. "Thanks." He slung the strap sloppily around one shoulder, braced the butt against his chest, and leaned out the window. The wind whipped through his hair and made him squint as he lifted the gun to line up a shot toward their opponents that were shrouded in the shadows of the night. The thug in the Hummer beat him to it, opening fire a split second before he could, the muzzle of the gun flashing as it sprayed bullets in their direction. Nate gritted his teeth and squeezed the trigger, sending a volley of return fire.
The chatter of machine guns was stark against the still of the before dawn hours in Xi'an, blending with the roar of engines and the shouts of treasure hunters and revolutionaries alike as they carried out their deadly game of hunter and hunted, with Chloe swerving crazily on the empty road to make themselves a more difficult target and the Hummer doing its best to run them off. Nate emptied his magazine and ducked inside the car to reload, breathing deeply to calm his nerves before he leaned out to continue the fight.
" Shoot the tires, Nate!" Sully coached.
"I've already tried!" Nate shouted back. "They're bullet-proof!"
"Of course," Chloe said darkly. "The whole bloody thing's armored! Why wouldn't they be?" She hissed again and took one hand off the wheel to squeeze her bicep where blood was pouring freely down her arm. Noticing the large, dark stain on her jacket, Charlie looked at her with concern.
"You going to be alright, love?"
Chloe chuckled and smiled bravely. "Never better."
The SUV drifted into a sharp ninety-degree turn and bolted between two buildings. They were now coming into the city and had only gained slightly on Floki's truck, and Chloe knew that she had to cover some ground before they got into the more dense traffic of downtown.
"Where are we going?" Elena asked, slightly alarmed.
"On a shortcut, love," Chloe replied in her signature way-too-breezy-for-the-circumstances tone.
The rpm's pegged out and the engine roared again as she floored it down an alley, spraying water on both sides as they splashed through a deep puddle. They were nearly back to the main street when Floki's armored truck flashed by.
"There he goes!" Nate exclaimed, having joined them back in the cab again while Chloe's "shortcut" bought him a temporary breather.
"I see him!" Chloe said through gritted teeth as she piloted the SUV into another hairpin turn onto the main road, emerging close to thirty yards behind the truck. A moment later, the Hum-Vee with the turret dropped back behind the truck and swiveled to open fire on them, causing Chloe to swerve into the opposite lane behind the protection of a median. At the same time, the other Hummer with the machine gunner reappeared behind them, and Nate groaned and put his AK-47 back out the window to return fire. A horn sounded angrily as Chloe, still driving them down the wrong lane of traffic, dodged around an oncoming car, and Nate recoiled for a moment as they passed each other. Another burst of fire from the turret caused them to weave erratically, and traffic cones and barrels went flying as they were caught in the crossfire. One of the cones bounced off the windshield with a thud, spiderwebbing the glass before falling to the side.
"Oh, just perfect!" Chloe muttered.
Nate squeezed off another burst gunfire at the Hummer, the but of the gun juddering against his body while the edge of the car window cut into the bottom of his ribcage. He felt the SUV swerve again, throwing him harder against his door, and he growled in frustration at the seemingly impermeable menace behind them- not to mention the two others in front of them. As he lined up for another shot, he was startled by Chloe screaming, "Nate! GET IN NOW!"
He turned to see two semi trucks neck-and-neck coming straight at them, air horns blaring in alarm and moving as far to the sides of the road as they could. "OH GOD!" Nate yelled as he pulled himself back inside.
Jaw clenched and knuckles white, Chloe guided the little car between the two behemoths with so little room to spare that the driver's mirror got knocked off in the process. It was all of a split-second and they had passed, somehow safely, and were on open road again. Charlie, who was gripping the door handle and the console like they were his lifeline, looked over at Chloe with a pale face. "Might I note that now would be a lovely time to get back in the correct lane?" he understated.
"Couldn't agree more," Chloe answered, still a bit shaken herself.
At some point Nate realized that he had shut his eyes, and apparently Sully had too, since he heard him comment, "Heaven looks a lot more like Cleveland than I expected."
The ratta-tat-tat of automatic gunfire brought focus back to the fact that they were not yet out of the woods. "And, like Cleveland, it has a lot more gunfire than I would have expected," Nate quipped as he reluctantly leaned out the window again. After firing just a few more rounds the gun clicked, signaling that it had just run dry. "Charlie! I need more ammo!" Nate shouted as he slumped back against the seat.
"Fresh out," Cutter replied, twisting in his seat to look back. Another barrage of bullets swept across their tail and Chloe jerked the wheel to try to avoid it. "You'll have to try something else," he said.
Nate frowned and then growled, and, in an act of pure desperation, held the AK-47 out the window with both hands and hurled it behind them. He watched as the weapon spun through the air and struck the windshield of the Hummer, and was surprised when the glass shattered and it struck the driver, causing him to lose control of the vehicle. The Hummer swerved first one way, than the other before plowing into the end of a concrete median wall with a terrific crash, the impact causing it to flip end for end into the air.
"Chloe! Go right!" Nate screamed.
She swerved just as the Hummer crashed down onto the blacktop where they had been moments before, landing on its roof in a terrific display of grinding, squealing metal and sparks. The flaming and twisted pile of scrap metal continued to spin and slide from its momentum, the tortured metal screaming as it skidded across their path, causing Chloe to slow the vehicle to dodge around it. Flames lapped at the wreckage, the glow dancing on the SUV and the faces of those inside as Chloe guided the car around it by riding up on the sidewalk.
"That was way too close," the Australian commented. General nods of agreement came from the others in the vehicle. Once they were clear she gave it some gas and they began to pick up speed again towards the truck, which had just vanished over the top of a small hill. The engine note rose and fell as it rapidly shifted gears under the hard-driving foot of Chloe Frazer, and in moments they too crested the hill and began the descent on the other side.
"They turned at that sign ahead!" Cutter said emphatically, pointing to a lighted parking garage sign.
Chloe whipped the car around the corner with the help of the hand brake and they found themselves facing a fork with one side leading to parking garage "A" and the other to garage "B". "Any votes? We're taking votes!" Chloe said hurriedly as they approached the fork. A garbled cacophony of suggestions chorused from the back seat until Cutter's voice cut through with a decisive "B!" Chloe jerked the wheel at the last second and then rammed the gas pedal to the floor. Tires squealed as she drifted the car around corners, narrowly missing parked cars and support pillars, in a frenetic descent through the levels. As they rounded the corner onto level three particularly quickly, the back passenger's side clipped a fire extinguisher and caused it to discharge its contents.
"Hey!" Sully said. "I thought you were the best driver in the business!"
"I am," Chloe said flatly. "This is what 'best driver in the business' looks like under the circumstances."
"What would worst driver look like?" Elena asked dryly.
Chloe smirked. "Very, very dead."
Still no sign of the truck, and there was only two more floors to go. As they sped down the open edge facing the opposite garage, Nate glanced up and happened to spot the armored juggernaut speeding down a line of cars on the floor above them, clearly not making quite as good of time as Chloe.
"Hey, Stop! He's over there!" he shouted. Chloe slammed on the breaks and the SUV fishtailed as it broke traction before coming to a halt.
"What?" she demanded.
"We took the wrong garage," Nate said. "They're over there!" As the truck smashed its way past an expensive sports car, Nate suddenly had an idea, and acted before he even had time to think about it. Throwing open the car door, Nate scurried to the concrete barricade at the edge of the parking garage as his companions shouted at him to stop. Jumping up on the wall, he leaped out into space, managed to grab the perimeter wall of the opposite garage with one hand, and was left dangling in the cool early morning air, forty feet off the ground in a random garage in Xi'an, until he reached up with his other hand and pulled himself to safety. Heaving himself onto the top of the wall, he paused in a crouch. He was ready to make his move, breathing in deep lungfuls of the misty dawn and scanning the dimly-lit garage for the current location of the truck.
And that's when it came. Multiple tons of careening metal, smashing its way through its surroundings like a heavily-armored bull in a China shop, and it was coming right at him.
"Oh shit," Nate barely had time to say before it drifted into a turn, its rear corner smashing into the barricade he was perched on just as he leaped up. The combined physics of it all sent Nate tumbling over the side of the bed, landing at the feet of an equally shell-shocked thug who was clinging on for dear life in the back of the truck. For a moment the rear passenger's side dual wheels spun in the air as they hung just over the side of the parking garage, then the all-wheel drive vehicle clawed its way back onto the pavement and continued its crazed journey to the ground, with the Hum-Vee close behind.
Nate clutched his forehead and rolled over with a groan. Two strong hands grabbed him by the front of his shirt, hauled him to his feet, and then punched him in the face, sending him staggering backward. He collapsed from shock, catching himself on the tailgate as he landed on his rear end with his knees bent. The thug rushed him, and Nate struck out with one booted foot, kicking him back against the back of the cab. Pushing himself to his feet, Nate raised his fists to meet his opponent but stopped and turned at a noise behind him. The turret on the Hum-Vee was lining up for a lethal shot, the grinning thug at the other end staring down the barrel at him, and Nate panicked, glancing quickly over his shoulder at the goon coming up behind him. Caught between a rock and a hard place, Nate took his only available course of action: he jumped.
The hood of the Hum-Vee flexed under the impact of Nate bouncing off of it and then sliding down. There was a whoosh, the turret discharged its shot, and there was a cry as the thug in the back of the truck took the bullet meant for Nate, who was now clinging to the grill of the Hum-Vee while his heels skipped and bounced as they drug on the pavement. He pulled himself up, only to slip back down with a grunt when the suspension dipped and the vehicle suddenly leveled out as it exited the parking garage onto the street again. Clenching his jaw, Nate lifted himself up again until he could see over the top of the hood and was looking down at the animatedly shouting and gesticulating goons in the cab as the driver pointed at him and the other drew a gun. Moving quickly, Nate whipped out his pistol and fired before the other man had a chance, and the goon in the passenger's seat slumped down lifelessly. The knuckles of Nate's left hand were white from clutching the grill; with his right hand he determinedly jammed his gun back into his shoulder holsters and then grabbed hold of the hood and threw himself up onto the front of the car. A jolt shook his body and the Hum-Vee entered a suspension bridge, its tires making a throbbing sound as they crossed the separate plates that formed the deck of the bridge, and the moonlight shining through the superstructure cast a strobe light effect on Nate as he struggled across the front of the rapidly moving vehicle. Then they were suddenly off the other end, and the driver took advantage of the wider range to swerve sharply to the left. "Whooooaaa!" Nate cried as the centrifugal force of the turn sent him sliding across the slick metal of the hood. He fell off the side, barely managing to wrap his arms around the mirror as he did, and he struggled to pull himself up again. Biting his lip with the effort of holding on, Nate glanced up and noticed the passenger's window was open. He made a face and sighed at his own thoughts.
"Desperation... is the mother of... STUPIDITY!" he grunted, flinging himself upward with the last word of his sentence. Grabbing on to the rack on the top of the Hum-Vee, he planted his feet in the center of the door panel just below the open window, then pushed off with his feet while keeping his grip on the rack. His return swing sent him rocketing through the window to plant his boots squarely against the side of the driver's head, smashing him against the inside of the door and sending the vehicle veering off course. There was a sound like a gunshot, and the whole vehicle popped up on its rear tires before crashing down again and grinding to a halt.
Nate groaned, sprawled out across the front seat with his legs on top of the unconscious driver. Slowly he lifted himself up and peered out the window before pulling the door handle and spilling out onto the road. He coughed as he staggered away from the Hum-Vee, then pulled out his pistol and turned around. "Heh," he scoffed with a wry grin, eying the six completely flat tires. "Road spikes. I think that's what you get for going the wrong way down a one way street!" Coughing again, he limped out onto an overpass they had crossed right after the bridge and stared down at the busy street below. "Now where did that truck go?" he muttered. He scanned the rows of traffic, bright lights and horns blaring as the people of Xi'an carried out their morning commute. Down the side rode a couple of stalwart bicyclists, and further down the road, coming his way, he spotted their forest-green SUV.
"Hey! There's the gang!" he murmured to himself. He holstered his gun and put his hands on his hips. "Now how to get down there?"
There was a scuffle behind him and Nate turned, eyes going wide as he saw the thug who had been at the turret barreling toward him. "Think I can help ya out with that!" the man snarled.
"Heyheyhey, easy," Nate blurted and backed against the barricade on the overpass, taken thoroughly by surprise. An instant later the goon's shoulder rammed into his chest and they both flopped over the barricade and plummeted toward the road below.
Nate was vaguely aware of the drone of multiple car horns sounding simultaneously as he fell with arms and legs flailing past the stark light of an overpass sign. His right shoulder collided with the roof of a semi truck hard enough to leave a dent in the sheet metal and he rolled sideways before falling again, and just managed to catch the edge with one hand. His body swung against the side of the truck, and he dangled groggily, almost lazily as he came to grips with this most recent turn of events. "Ughh. I am definitely gonna feel that one tomorrow," he moaned. Twisting around, he reached up with his free hand to grab the edge of the box but was met with the sole of a boot descending on him. "Whoa!" Nate said, switching hands to avoid getting his fingers crushed. "This is so not cool!" As the thug whirled around for another try, Nate threw himself a few more feet down the box and then hauled his aching body on top, raising his weary arms a moment too late and catching a uppercut to the jaw for his efforts. The punch laid him out flat dangerously close to the edge of the speeding semi, and Nate reacted quickly, rolling to dodge a foot that would have come down on his stomach. He scrambled to his feet and swung a wild right hook that connected with the thug's chin.
The two men weaved back and forth as they exchanged blows high on the top of the truck above the unsuspecting morning traffic of the city. Another punch to Nate's face sent him staggering backward, and he wiped blood from his mouth as he looked up. Just ahead, maybe two hundred feet, a road sign hung above the highway, low enough it would probably clear the truck by three feet at the most. Nate grinned and dropped flat to the roof, rolling to the side. In confusion the thug turned around just in time to hit the sign with a resounding clang and go flying off the back of the semi trailer. Nate pushed himself to his feet and looked back.
"Keep your eyes on the road, asshole," he quipped.
Suddenly there was a series of honks from nearby, and Nate looked over to see the SUV neck-and-neck with the truck, Sully leaning out the window. "D'ja call for a taxi?" the old man bellowed. Nate rushed to the front corner of the trailer and used the small fold-down steps to climb part way down the side, and then leaped over onto the top of the SUV, using the rack for a handhold. Leaning his head over the driver's side he yelled into Chloe's open window, "Catch that truck!"
"On my way!" she called back. Expertly veering between lanes and around other cars, Chloe quickly closed the distance between them and the Floki's truck and brought Nate up alongside the bed. "Go, Nate!" she screamed.
He didn't have to be told twice. Leaping through the air and landing once more in the bed of the truck, Nate approached the back of the cab and crouched at the corner. One of Floki's henchman leaned out the window with a pistol, but Nate grabbed his hand and yanked it out and down, causing him to drop the gun, then grabbed him by the collar and hauled him out of the vehicle. The goon gave a cry of surprise as he fell, and Nate swung into the window and landed on the back seat next to Ming jie.
It was then that he remembered he didn't really have a plan on what to do once he was in the vehicle. In the passenger's seat, Floki turned and looked at him, his bearded face twisting into a snarl. "You really are a rat, aren't you?" he roared. "And an overconfident one, at that!" Drawing a pistol and pointing it in Nate's face, he instructed his driver to bring them to the docks, adding in an aside to Nate, "The river is the best place to get rid of vermin."
Ming looked over at him and, despite his obvious terror, managed a snarky appraisal of the situation by asking, "So this was your grand plan? Get captured too?"
Nate frowned. "I'm not captured, I'm... rescuing you."
"And doing a damn good job, didn't you notice?" Floki mocked as the truck rattled onto the docks.
Nate glared daggers at him, then in a move that was quick as lightning he batted Floki's gun hand away toward the driver. The firearm discharged, killing the driver instantly, and Nate leaped forward while simultaneously keeping the gun pinned down with his left hand and driving his right elbow into Floki's face. With no one at the wheel, the truck veered off and crashed down on a barge that was tied up to the docks, causing it to rock violently and snapping the thick nylon mooring ropes, which snapped back like rubber bands. The barge tipped further and further as the heavy armored vehicle upset its balance until the truck slid off the side and sank in the river.
"Drake! I can't swim!" Ming screamed as water poured in through the open windows.
Perfect, Nate thought to himself. Gritting his teeth, he headbutted Floki to buy himself a moment and then grabbed Ming by the arm. "C'mon!" he managed to shout before the water drowned him out.
Wriggling through the window like a fish leaving an underwater cave, Nate then pulled Ming through after him, wrapped the young man's arms around his neck, and began to swim for the surface. His cheeks puffed out as he fought to hang onto his precious oxygen while still being strangled by Ming's deadweight, Nate's arms cut long, sweeping strokes through the murky water of the Yellow River, and through the gloom he could see Floki's bulky form also rising a little ways away, and making significantly quicker progress. He tried not to imagine the Scandinavian brute waiting to shoot them as soon as they came up and poured more steam into his efforts to reach the surface.
They breached next to the barge, now adrift and floating with the current, and Nate grabbed on with one hand while hurriedly heaving Ming up onto it with the other. True to his predictions, Floki was already up and storming across the barge with gun in hand, aiming to shoot Nate in the head. Taking comfort in the fact that the burly revolutionary wanted Ming alive, Nate quickly dove under the water again just before the shot rang out, hitting the spot where he had just been.
Nate paddled determinedly, ducking under the float and swimming across the breadth of the barge, the light that filtered down from the flood lamps on the dock affording him limited visibility of his surroundings as indistinct shapes and silhouettes in the swirling water around him. The muffled sounds of two more gunshots, one of which he saw trailing lazily through the water in front of him, told him that Floki was taking pot shots in the dark. He turned and headed for the surface on the back corner.
In one motion Nate broke the surface and flung himself onto the barge, rolling on his side and firing a shot in Floki's general direction to cover for himself. He saw the burly man take cover behind a crate, and Nate pushed himself up on one elbow, firing another shot from the hip that blew a hole in the float on the opposite side of the barge. With a hiss and a boom the float exploded, causing a blinding spray of water and making the barge lurch to one side. Ming screamed as the deck tilted haphazardly and the lower half of his body was suddenly submerged in water, and Nate reached out to grab his hand. The angle caused a set of gas bottles to tip over, and they rolled down the barge, one of them smashing into the crate that Floki was still halfway crouched behind, while the other one got caught in a trough in the deck. Knocked over by the bottle and the crate, Floki tumbled down into the boiling torrent that had swallowed half of the barge, only just barely managing to grab onto a grate and keep himself above water. On the other end, Nate scrambled to his feet with Ming in tow, and he glanced over at his adversary. Noticing the entrapped gas bottle, Nate impulsively raised his pistol to point at it, and in the next instant he locked eyes with the Icelander.
"Sayanora, sucker," he deadpanned. Floki's eyes went wide and he slipped under the water with impressive speed. Shoving Ming off in front of him, Nate leaped off the barge at the same time as he pulled the trigger. His splash in the water was drowned out by the deafening explosion of the gas bottle, and the shock waves pushed the pair towards the docks. Clinging to the ironwork on the underside of the docks, Nate drug Ming and himself to the top and flopped over on the rough wood, panting and wheezing. After a moment Nate willed his aching body to stand and turned and looked out over the river. The wreckage of the barge had all vanished beneath the surface, leaving only choppy, confused waves and some flaming debris scattered on the dock as evidence of the events that had just unfolded. Nate heaved a deep breath, inhaling the smell of fish and co2, and strained his eyes into the darkness. Sure enough, across the river he saw a hulking figure drag itself out of the water; standing on the bank, the form turned to face him for a brooding moment and then trudged away into the dawn.
The hum of an engine and the clatter of tires on wood drew Nate and Ming's attention, and he turned to see Chloe and the gang piling out of the SUV and running down the dock toward them. One figure outpaced the others, arriving at Nate's side a good three seconds ahead.
"Nate!" Elena threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest. Even with his sopping wet clothes and the dim lighting, Nate could tell she was crying. "Oh my god, I thought you had died. You scared the shit out of me! How are you not dead?"
Nate chuckled and tried on a joke in hopes to lighten the mood. "Oh, just me bein' me, Elena."
Elena pulled away and looked at him in the eyes, her expression shifting from relief to betrayal so quickly and suddenly it left Nate scrambling mentally to keep up with what was happening. "How long are you going to do this to me? To us?" she asked- or maybe accused- her voice raising as she vented at her husband. "Why is this stuff so important to you that you have to drag everyone around the globe, putting everyone's lives at stake so that you can get to some kind of treasure first?" Her glistening eyes narrowed at him and she took a half step back. "Nate, I love you, but I don't know how long I can do this. This kind of life is no way to carry on a healthy relationship." She shook her head. "Something's gotta give, Nate."
Nate's eyes searched her, his suddenly forlorn and morose soul in a turmoil of bewilderment and frustration. Something in Elena's face told him that he had hurt her very badly, and he wanted to feel bad, he really did. Kind of. But his pride bristled, and instead of an apology he heard his voice spewing harshly. "What did you expect me to do, let him die?" he yelled, motioning to Ming jie. He saw the Sully, Chloe, and Charlie standing apart from the conflict, shuffling awkwardly and looking at their feet. "I may be a thief, but I do still have some moral obligations to fulfill, 'Lena."
She stared back at him, anger seething in her eyes and her lips pursed to speak. "No one drug you into this, Nathan," she said slowly and in a low voice. A few silent moments passed with unbearable tension, then finally she spoke again. "I'm going home, Nate. I've got a lot to do to get ready for my new job." She turned and began to walk away, adding over her shoulder, "I'd hate to hold you up, so I'll just call a taxi. I'll see you when you get back to the States."
For two whole minutes, silence reigned supreme save for the soft padding of Elena's retreating footsteps. Then even they were gone, and then only the occasional splish of the river meekly broke the deafening quiet as Nate stood motionless and staring off into nothingness and his companions tried to give him a moment out of respect.
"Nate?" Chloe finally dared to ask. "You okay?"
Nate's jaw became a hard-set line and his eyes narrowed slightly. "Yeah," he said darkly. "Never better."
"C'mon, mate," Charlie said, abandoning all pretense of deference. "You know that's not true. Liars go to Parliament."
"And then to hell," Sully chimed in.
"I'm fine," Nate repeated sternly. "We've got work to do. Let's go." He started walking down the dock until a hand grabbed his shoulder and he was turned to face Chloe.
"Nate," she said, voice low and full of compassion. "No one will think any less of you if you need time to go talk to her. She's your wife, mate."
"She'll cool down," he butt in and shrugged her hand off of him, then turned heel and kept walking. "Let's get Ming back to his house."
After dropping Ming jie off at his place, the four remaining treasure hunters continued their drive back to the hotel in the same silence that had been looming over them since the docks. Attempting to make small talk to ease the tension, Sully began rambling in a subdued tone, "Too bad we don't have time to see what we can get from that Xu Fu's place. There's probably a lot of valuable stuff in there, what with everything they took from the emperor's tomb. A real siphoning job, that was. Heh, that's what I call robbing Peter to pay Paul!"
This was followed by a moment's silence, and then Charlie suddenly whipped around to look at Sully. "What'd you say, mate? That last part."
Sully looked at him blankly. "Robbing Peter to pay Paul? It's an expression-"
"Yeah, yeah, I know what it means. That phrase has been around since before your people even got on the Mayflower," Cutter said dismissively. Looking at Nate with a twinkle in his eye, he said, "I think I know where the Chapel of the Moon is."
Nate raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah," Cutter said. "Let's get ourselves the next flight to London."