Fault Line by Chris Ryan Page B

been wearing them when they’d crashed to the ground trying to avoid being shot. He handed the goggles to Hex without comment, but behind his back Paulo could see he had his fingers crossed.
    Hex got the case open and powered the goggles up. He looked through them at the robber’s legs. ‘The patient looks fine.’ He took the goggles off and put them away.
    Li was carefully brushing the dust off the golden mask. It gleamed in the light that filtered down through the trees. The face was so lifelike she felt she could see what the dead man had really looked like, all those years ago.
    Alex looked dubious. ‘You decided to bring the mask out?’
    ‘It belongs in a museum,’ said Li. ‘If we leave it here now the tomb’s been opened, someone else might come along and help themselves.’
    ‘Fair point,’ Alex agreed.
    ‘There was other stuff in there too,’ said Amber. ‘More jewellery.’ She rolled up her trouser leg and scratched, ignoring Alex’s disapproving look. ‘Once we’ve dropped this guy off in hospital we can take it to the big museum in Belize City.’
    Alex looked annoyed. ‘Wait a minute. I didn’t think we were going to Belize City. We’ve still got our exercise to do.’
    Hex was looking at the mask. He felt its weight. It had to be solid gold. ‘We’ve got to take it there in person,’ he said. ‘This thing must be priceless. It wouldn’t be fair to just give it to the pilot, pat him on the back and say, “Drop that off, there’s a good chap”?’
    ‘Hex is right,’ said Paulo. ‘We’ve got to take it ourselves.’
    Alex looked glum but had to agree. ‘I suppose we can come back and pick up where we left off.’
    ‘I’ll tell you something else,’ said Hex. ‘We’d better get the other valuables that are in that tomb or they’ll disappear.’
    Amber jumped to her feet. ‘Good idea. Are you coming?’
    She was only teasing but Hex’s shudder was for real. ‘Not a chance.’
    But Li was keen. She hurdled a wait-a-while plant and joined Amber. ‘We should take some pictures of the friezes so we can show the archaeologists. Anyone got a camera phone?’
    As she spoke there was a loud rumble followed by a crash. The trees shook, sending birds squealing into the sky.
    The five friends froze in a shocked tableau: Hex wrapping the mask in cotton wool from the medical kit; Paulo at the stretcher, adjusting the robber’s splint; Alex getting up off his bergen to go down into the tomb with Li and Amber.
    Li swallowed nervously. ‘Was that a quake?’
    Amber moved cautiously towards the mouth of the tomb. ‘Oh,’ she said.
    The other four went to join her.
    One side of the tunnel that led down into the tomb had caved in.
    ‘I think,’ said Alex, ‘we’d better leave the dangerous stuff to the archaeologists.’
    The birds, barely settled again, suddenly took off in a squawking panic, bright feathers flashing through the green foliage. And there was another sound – the steady beat of rotors; the high whine of an engine. The helicopter was coming.

8 L ANDING Z ONE
    They ran to the little clearing and looked up at the signal balloon. It was buffeted in the air currents like a punch bag. The bright sky hurt their eyes after the permanent twilight under the tree canopy; they felt like nocturnal animals as they squinted up into real daylight. The belly of the helicopter passed over, a black torpedo sliding through the sky. It circled away then hovered, the winch man at the open side door, looking down.
    Alex waved. The winch man waved back. They had contact. Alex lay down flat on his back, his legs straight out and his arms stretched above his head. It was the international sign for ‘casualty on a stretcher’.
    Above him, the heli flew away and circled back again. As it passed the gap it did a wobbling movement, tipping its rotors from one side and then the other. Alex knew what that meant: message understood .
    The heli came back and hovered. Soon a shape began to descend