Atlantis Stolen (Sam Reilly Book 3) (7 page)

Billie woke up to
the throbbing pain in her head.

Whatever sedative
she’d been given, it had left a terrible aftereffect of amnesia, disorientation
and pain. She could do nothing about the pain, but she would immediately work
to rectify the other two problems.

How the fuck
did I get here?
Billie thought about it for a minute.
She’d been driving in Amsterdam. Something had frightened her.
But what?
She
felt the itch above her forehead and went to scratch. It was swollen and there
were several surgical stiches under her hair line.
That’s new.

Instantly, Billie
returned to the events of earlier today, or yesterday – or however much time
had passed and she’d been unconscious since the accident. Someone had learned
what she knew and had come for her. She’d contacted Sam Reilly, and he’d said
he would come for her, but something happened and he never reached her.

They had knocked
her car into the water! She had tried to escape the sinking car, only to find
that a diver had given her something, and taken her…

Billie looked
around, trying to orient herself.

The room was
mostly dark, with the dull ambient fluorescent lights outside barely providing
enough light to see. There was no door, and she wondered if she could leave if
she tried to. Her hand touched the metal wall next to the bed she’d woken up
in. It vibrated, just slightly. And an image of a turbine spinning matched the
constant drum she’d heard since waking.

They have me
on a ship?

The realization
hit her with surprise. She stood up and looked at the floor below her. It was
metal. More like a steel grate on a working ship. Although she’d only just
clambered out of the bed, her feet felt stable.

No, there’s no
swell or movement of the waves.
Even in a flat sea,
she knew there was a certain amount of movement.

She looked around
the room.

It looked like a
bedroom, with a slightly smaller than normal single bed. There were no windows,
or anything else to be seen inside the room. The walls were dark.

I’m in a
submarine?

With an air of
fatalism, she stepped out of the room and down the dark passageway. Looking for
anything that wasn’t bolted to the walls that could be used as a weapon, Billie
found that she was completely vulnerable.

Up ahead she
thought she could hear something other than the sound of turbines. It creaked
and cracked, as an open fire would. Slowly she progressed, walking ten or so
feet and then stopping to listen. Her ears sensitive to the slightest change in
sound, and expecting to hear someone come out to grab her at any moment, Billie
clenched her fists.

But no one came
for her.

She continued
walking through the passageway. It was long. Much longer than any submarine
she’d ever been on, not that she’d been on many. Still she expected that
whatever type of submersible she was aboard, required hundreds of people to
sail – but despite walking for several minutes now, she’d seen no evidence of
anyone.

I’m on a
deserted ghost ship?

Billie wasn’t
immediately certain that she preferred that any more than discovering it was
swarming with submariners. At least then, she’d have answers. Besides, if they
didn’t let her die in the first place, that meant they needed her alive.

Determined to
take control of the only thing left to her, she decided not to continue
slinking around quietly like a cat in an alley.

She whistled
loudly.

The sound echoed
through the empty hull.

“I’m awake! You
may as well come out. I know you don’t want to kill me, or else you wouldn’t
have dressed my wounds. So come out!”

There was no
response.

A thousand tiny
prickles teased the nerve endings of her skin. Perhaps she really was on a
ghost ship. But why? Why go through the trouble of abducting her – healing her
– only to abandon her below the surface of the ocean?

No, someone
will come.

But they didn’t,
so she continued walking through the passageway. Although narrow, it had nearly
six feet of head room above. That meant she was most likely on an American sub
– after all, no other navy in the world believed in such luxuries for its
sailors.

At the end of the
room, she saw an old man who most likely was nearing his early eighties.  He
was sitting and reading a book in a recliner chair.  Next to him was a large
heat light, built to look like a fire.

It crackled, like
a real fire.

The man smiled
warmly, but did not stand up as she approached.

“Hello Dr. Swan.
I was hoping you’d wake up soon. We have a lot of work to do and it’s time we
get started.”

Billie looked at
the old man. “Started? What are we doing?”

He carefully
placed a bookmark in the old leather-bound book he’d been reading and then
closed it. With an omniscient grin, he replied, “Why, saving Atlantis, of
course.”

“So, that’s what
this is about.” Billie looked at the old man, her fear replaced with curiosity,
as confidence dawned on her that she could probably kill him with her bare
hands. “You heard that I had a new lead and decided that you could reap the
rewards?”

“Reap the
rewards?” he asked, a curious look on his face.

“The golden city.
Or, city covered in the gold rich alloy, Orichalcum.”

Laughing, the man
sat up and said, “So you don’t know then, do you?”

“Know what?” 

“Atlantis, my
dear, for the most part, was stolen nearly 150 years ago.”

“How could you
possibly know that?”

“I should know.
After all, it was my grandfather who did the stealing.”

“So, if you
didn’t kidnap me to find the treasures hidden inside Atlantis, why am I here?”

“First of all, I
never kidnapped you. I protected you from them. And I would have thought you’d
be more grateful for it, on that matter.”

“Then can I
leave…” she began to protest, but he stopped her.

“Second. We need
to find Atlantis, before they do, and stop the countdown, which we both know
you started.”

Billie already
knew the precise location of Atlantis. She’d been there only just last week. But
instead of finding answers, she had found more questions and discovered that
she had inadvertently restarted a timer that should have been permanently
stopped.

But there was no
way she was going to let this man know.

“Who are they?”

“They…” the man
coughed. A deep throaty cough. “They call themselves the Phoenix Resistance. And
have served a useful purpose for nearly 11,000 years, too. They protected the
secret of Atlantis. But, like all brotherhoods, they are run by people. And
people, well – let’s face it, people are corruptible, ignorant, and most of all,
stupid.”

Billie examined
the man’s appearance and decided that he could be dying. Maybe lung cancer or
something. Hell what did she care? The man had kidnapped her.

“What happened to
them?”

“Over the course
of that time, the Phoenix Resistance, in the process of trying to maintain the
secret of Atlantis, managed to lose it altogether on three separate occasions.
The most recent, of course, being nearly 200 years ago, when their plan to bury
it ended in its disappearance entirely.”

She repeated the words
“Phoenix Resistance.” She’d never heard of them. 

“For the most
part, they carry on, biding their time, until evidence of its reemergence comes
into light. As it did with your recent discovery of the looking glass and the
existence of Atlantis.”

“How could you
possibly know of that?”

“Let’s just say
that money’s not a problem for me. And, I keep tabs on a number of leading
archeologists around the world, just on the off chance that such an event
occurs, sending into motion a dangerous set of events.”

“What events?”

“Why, the end of
the world of course.”

Billie couldn’t
hide her response. “So, it’s true then.”

“Yes, and given
that you entered all but the inner sanctum last week – that means that we now
have a little under five weeks remaining to save the world.”

“Who are you?”
she asked.

“My name’s Edward
Worthington, and my grandfather, Hank Worthington, stole the great wealth of
Atlantis, before he too discovered its secret. He decided to bury its very
existence, so that no others should fall into the trap.”

Billie sat down.

“Okay, Mr. Worthington,
if what you say is true, why didn’t you simply contact me? Why did you go
through the effort of nearly getting me killed?”

“Ah, that I’m
afraid I brought upon you, but had no idea I was doing so until it was too
late.”

“What do you mean?
You didn’t realize you ordered one of your goons to try and kill me?”

“No, you see, I
paid a man who specialized in rare and often unattainable products. I sought
his assistance when I discovered that you were on the close tail of finding
Atlantis. Unfortunately, I had no idea that the very man I employed just so
happened to be a sleeper cell for the head of the Phoenix Resistance. I fear
something you did while you were in Amsterdam triggered something that made him
realize who you were, and why I was after you.”

“Who was after
me?”

Mr. Worthington
brought up a picture on a hologram in front of them. The man was in a blue
suit, clean shaven, and carrying a suitcase. He appeared quite handsome, had he
not been trying to kill her or at least abduct her only yesterday.

“His name is
Andrew Brandt. This was him three days ago when I paid him 5 million dollars as
a down payment to bring you to me.”

Her eyes looked
at the man for a second and then realized she’s seem him before. “The man with blond
hair in a red baseball cap!”

“Excuse me?”

“He was at the
National Archives center in Amsterdam!”

“That’s
possible.”

“But now we need
to find Atlantis, before they do. And the clock is ticking.”

“If I contact the
other two members of my team, we will have a better chance of finding it.”

“I’m afraid
that’s not possible.”

“Why not?”

“Because, the Phoenix
Resistance are after you. If they find you, and therefore beat us to Atlantis,
all is lost.”

“Why? What is so
important about Atlantis?”

“I think you
know, as well as I do.”

Billie did know,
but she certainly wasn’t going to let him hold all the cards. She nodded her
head in acceptance.               

Edward then said,
“No, its best that you and I go searching for Atlantis, while Sam and Tom lead
them away. If they think you’re dead, they will go after the next best lead
they have, and that means Sam and Tom.”

A man approached.
He had a solid build, pale skin, and brown hair cut in a short military style.
“Dr. Swan, this is Mark.”

The man shook her
hand. “Pleased to meet you again Dr. Swan. I’m afraid the last time we might
have gotten off on the wrong foot, although it was in your best interests. May
I please welcome you to this submarine and apologize for how you came to be
aboard.”

She took his hand
and replied, “Nice to meet you Mark. I don’t blame you for nearly getting me
killed. For that, we have Edward.”

Billy looked at
the man’s eyes. They were an intense blue, and a pleasant enough smile. But,
although she didn’t say so, there was something about him that gave her the
creeps.

Edward looked at
her. As though he’d read her mind, Edward said, “Mark has worked for me for the
past twenty years and is exceedingly loyal – to those who pay him well. He will
be your bodyguard.”

Billie stood
warming her hands by the fire. “All right. If your grandfather buried it, why
don’t you know where it is?”

Edward ignored
her question, as he had so many others. “Let me tell you what I know from my
sources so that you can clear up any of my confusions – and I have so many
these days.”

He didn’t wait
for her to acknowledge her acquiescence, and instead continued. “You found a
series of pictographs on a sarcophagus inside an ancient pyramid. All of which
represented a known place of historical significance. The only one that had not
been officially discovered, was Atlantis. Then you found a looking glass, which
somehow allowed you to see the image of each of the archeological sites.”

She nodded her
head, not wanting to give away more than she had to.

“I’ve read your
notes, and see that you could calculate the exact distance between the location
of the pyramid and each of the sites by measuring the distance between the
center of the map and each of the pictographs. And you were able to work out
that of the 13 sites displayed on the seeing tube, or looking glass as you
called it, six were above the equator, while six were below it and the
thirteenth, or looking-glass was directly along the equator.”

He paused long
enough for her to add anything if she felt like, which she didn’t.

He then
continued. “What I don’t understand is how you derived a need to visit
Amsterdam?”

“We calculated
three separate known cities which roughly matched the distance that we
calculated from the main site. These were, Amsterdam, Nice and New York.”

“And you chose
Amsterdam first, because...”

“The pictograph
that represented what we believe to be Atlantis, depicted a circular city, with
dozens of canals, protected via dikes. When I looked at the three cities, and
the image of Atlantis, I thought, ‘Which one most closely resembles the
original city?’ Thus, I came up with Amsterdam, which luckily happened to be
the big break.”

“That’s very
good, Dr. Swan. A fanciful story at best. I think if I were to sit down here
with a map and calculate the exact distance from the Gulf of Mexico and those
three cities, I would most likely find three very different answers.”

Billie felt a
warm flush of blood flow to her cheeks. He’d caught her in a lie. Even if she
had no reason to be honest with him, it made her feel guilty.

She didn’t even
try to deny it, and Edward continued. “In Atlantis you realized that you needed
a code – Let’s call it the code to Atlantis. Without it, you have no ability to
access any further information from its inner sanctum, and nor do you have any
control over the timer that you’ve begun.”

Billie kept her
thoughts to herself on the matter, but inwardly, she was writhing with
curiosity.

“It was here that
you realized that the ancient Atlantean people had built a second temple – not
too dissimilar to their original one. The purpose of which, was not to house
the great wealth and even greater power that Atlantis was built on. Instead, it
was a great vault. An ancient set of archives, which tells of the history of
earth.”

“Yes. I went to
Amsterdam in search of a key to the archives to Atlantis.”

“Did you find
it?” He seemed only mildly interested.

“Yes. But it was
my interest in it that seemed to bring me to the attention of yourself, and if
I should believe you, the Phoenix Resistance.”

“My dear Dr.
Swan. The simple matter of whether you believe me or not has no bearing on the
fact that there
is
an ancient brotherhood who want that code to Atlantis
as much as we do. And if they beat us to it, the result can only mean the
ending of the world as we know it.”

She was a
scientist. As such, Billie had spent her life assessing everything with
circumspection and objectivity. But as she listened to this old stranger, she
knew in her heart he was speaking the truth.

Seemingly confident
he’d made his point, Edward said, “In Amsterdam you learned Felix Brandt was one
of the last people to ever see Atlantis, and that, after returning to
Amsterdam, he travelled to Tibet. There he lived out the remainder of his days,
presumably documenting the history of the world high in the Atlantean archives.”

“That’s right.
So, every archeologist and treasure hunter in the last two centuries have heard
the rumor that an ancient Atlantean left a treasure trove of orichalcum
somewhere in the mountains of Tibet, along with the key to the city’s central
vault and a map that could outlast the ages of time.”

“Yes, something
like. Of course no one’s ever been able to locate it have they? Yet, you
located something in Amsterdam. What was it, a map?”

“Not quite a map.
I discovered a key to an ancient map.”

Edward laughed,
as though he’d had enough fun with her. “Dr. Swan. On that account we’re in
luck. As it so happens, I once owned the Arcane Stone. It has since been stolen
from me. But I have previously used it to mark the secret location of the
Atlantean Archives.”

She grinned
mischievously.
What does this man actually need from me?
“And what did
you find there?”

“A whole lot of
ancient texts. The same as those that riddle the walls of Atlantis. I’m not a
linguist, Dr. Swan. I have studied far and wide, and in my short 80 years of
life on this earth, I have learned to make sense out of some of the images. But
for the most part, I need your help.”

“How do you know
that I’ll have any more luck understanding it than you?”

“Because as you
know, it’s the same language that you’ve studied for years. The one you believe
came from the Master Builders, although I believe we’re both going to find that
the simplest explanation for them was that they were simply Gods.”

Billie tried to
hide her surprise. And then said, “Gods? The last time people truly believed
that the Gods lived among us was in ancient Greece, and even then, no one
really believed the stories.”

“Oh, are you
sure?”

Billie was
certain. She might overlook her scientific objectivity in place of a gut
instinct about an old man, but resting the answers to some of the biggest
questions to plague her life on ancient Gods, was one giant step too much for
her to take.

He smiled at her
and said, “Don’t worry Dr. Swan. I’m not planning on preaching. It was just a
thought.”

Yet something
about his smile made her wonder what he really knew about the Master Builders.

“What now, then?”

“And so, Billie, you
and I are on our way to Tibet, to climb a mountain.”