The Hunt for Atlantis (7 page)

“Well, you just keep your head down back here and I’ll meet him when he lands, okay?” Chase winked at him, then added in a quieter, more serious voice, “Keep an eye open.” Castille nodded.

The helicopter swept over the rise above the farmhouse. The type was familiar to Nina from hundreds of movies and TV shows, and even a couple of flights as a passenger: a Bell Jet Ranger, a civilian workhorse found all around the world. It made a rapid circle of the farmhouse, then came to a hover and landed about a hundred feet from the Land Rover.

Chase waited for the rotors to slow, then walked over. Hajjar had brought company. As well as the pilot, there were three other people in the Jet Ranger. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the weight of the Wildey .45 Winchester Magnum in its holster under his jacket, ready for use in an instant. Just in case.

The helicopter’s rear doors opened, two large, bearded men in dark suits and sunglasses jumping out and surveying the area before fixing their black-hole stares on Chase. He stared back, unintimidated. From the way they held themselves he could tell they were ex-military—but just regular soldiers, not special forces. Definitely nowhere near SAS level. He could handle them.

One of the men leaned closer to the helicopter and spoke in Farsi. The door opened, and Failak Hajjar emerged.

Unlike his bodyguards, Hajjar was dressed in traditional Arab robes. But like them, he was wearing sunglasses—though his were far more expensive.

Another man followed him out. He was white, with short spiky hair, several days’ growth of stubble and a distinctly wary air. Chase guessed it was Yuri Volgan.

“Are you Chase?” Hajjar called.

“Yes!”

“Where is Ms. Frost?”

“Where’s the artifact?” Chase demanded. Hajjar glowered, then reached back into the Jet Ranger and took out a small black leather briefcase. Nodding, Chase backed away, heading to the Land Rover.

“In the house,” said Hajjar, gesturing with the briefcase. “Out of the wind, yes?”

“What wind?” Chase muttered. Now that the rotors had stopped, there was only an intermittent breeze. He checked the area once more for signs that they weren’t alone, but saw none.

He reached the Land Rover. “Well?” Kari asked.

“Looks okay, but…” He glanced around again, surveying the landscape. No sign of anyone—not that somebody couldn’t be in hiding nearby. “Just be careful, okay?”

“You don’t trust him?” said Nina.

“Christ, no. I’m just not sure exactly how much I don’t trust him. Okay, Hafez, you wait out here. Any trouble, sound the horn.”

“I will.” Hafez reached under the dashboard and pulled out a revolver, which he placed on his lap.

Chase opened the door for Nina, Castille doing the same for Kari. “I’ve got to say, I’m a bit nervous about all the guns,” Nina told Chase.

“What? Thought you archaeology types were always running around shooting people, like Indiana Jones.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Hardly. The only shooting I do is with a camera.”

“I hope it stays that way,” said Kari as she headed for the farmhouse, the hem of her white coat flaring out around her as she walked. Hajjar and his companions stopped outside the door of the little building, unable to take their eyes off her. “After you,” she told them, gesturing inside with her own slim steel briefcase.

The interior of the farmhouse was dark, the only light coming from a single window. Although the room’s contents had mostly been cleared out when its owners abandoned it, there was still a long table made from roughly hewn wood in the center.

Castille took a large glow stick from his jacket and bent it to crack the glass inside, chemicals mixing to release a vivid orange light like a fireside glow. Such a strong reaction, Nina knew, would only be able to sustain itself for fifteen minutes at most, so presumably the entire transaction was expected to be completed before then. She didn’t feel comfortable about that. It meant she would have to determine the authenticity of the artifact in a rush—and if she was wrong, the Frosts would be down ten million dollars. She could do without that kind of pressure.

So she would just have to be right.

Hajjar and his bodyguards stood at one end of the table, Chase, Kari and Castille at the other. Nina found herself facing Volgan. The Russian seemed worried, fingers jittering with nervous energy.

“Are you ready to make the money transfer?” Hajjar asked.

“Once we see the piece,” Kari replied coolly. “And once Dr. Wilde has confirmed that it’s genuine.”

“Wilde?” Volgan asked, shocked. Nina noticed he was suddenly unwilling to look directly at her. “Related to Henry and Laura Wilde?”

“Yes, they were my parents. Why?”

Volgan didn’t answer, but Hajjar impatiently interrupted before Nina could ask any more questions. “The item is genuine. Here.” He placed his briefcase on the table and operated the combination locks. Nina was surprised to see that his right hand was missing, replaced by a steel hook. She couldn’t help staring at it.

“You think I’m a thief, perhaps?” he asked coldly.

“Uh, no, I…”

Hajjar shook his head. “Westerners, always with their clichés and preconceptions,” he said as he opened the locks. “I lost it in a motorbike accident. I am no thief.”

“Well, not the petty kind,” Chase remarked cheerily. “Or so I’ve heard.”

Hajjar paused and glared at him. “Are you trying to insult me, Mr. Chase?”

“Nah. You’d know if I was insulting you.”

“May we see the piece now?” prompted Kari. Hajjar gave Chase a last angry glance before clicking the catch and opening the briefcase.

Inside, resting in a bed of protective foam, was the artifact.

It had to be made of orichalcum, Nina knew. Nothing else would have gleamed with such a unique ruddy glow.

It had been carefully and diligently polished. There was not a mark on it, no fingerprints or smudges. The only flaw was the small nick in one side, from where Volgan had carved a sample of the metal. It was without a doubt the same piece she had seen as a hologram.

And now she could see the whole thing. On its front, directly above the protrusion on the underside, was a small angled slot. And below it were markings …

“Can I examine it?” she asked Hajjar, her voice almost an awed whisper.

“Of course.”

Nina snapped on a pair of latex surgical gloves and carefully lifted the artifact from the briefcase. It was heavier than it looked, consistent with a high gold content. An arrowhead was inscribed into the curved end of the piece, as well as a wavering line with some sort of tiny markings on either side running up its length, but what caught her attention was the lettering parallel to it. She turned the bar to catch the light from the window.

“What are they?” Kari asked.

“They’re Glozel characters, or a very close variant. At least most of them are.” Nina pointed out certain symbols with the tip of her gloved forefinger. “But these are something else. A different alphabet.”

“Do you know which one?”

“It looks familiar, but I can’t quite place it. It’s another variant, though, not a standard alphabet. Maybe a regional offshoot, or something from a slightly different time period? I’d need to check my references.”

“Whatever you need, you’ll have,” said Kari. “But is it a genuine piece?”

Nina turned the artifact over. The underside was just as she had seen in the hologram, the metal nub protruding from the upper end. Apart from that, it was devoid of markings.

Her fingertips pressed against the curved end as she turned it over again.

Sense memory …

The shape reminded her of something, the curve of the metal almost instinctually familiar …

“Dr. Wilde?” Kari lightly touched her arm, and she flinched, realizing she had been staring at the artifact for several seconds, lost in thought. “Is it genuine?”

“Uh, it certainly looks as though it is. But you should really do a metallurgical analysis to confirm it.”

“I’m afraid I didn’t bring my crucible and spectrograph,” Kari said with a faint smile. “It’s your opinion that counts.”

“Okay…” Nina took a breath, her throat dry. Ten million dollars was a lot of money, more than she would see in several lifetimes. “If it’s a fake, it’s a very expensive one. And an extremely well-done one—there aren’t many people in the world who could write in Glozel.”

“You can read it?” Chase asked.

“Parts of it.” Nina tapped at certain words. “‘From the north,’ ‘mouth,’ ‘river.’ I’d say that this line here,” she indicated the marking running down the artifact’s length, “is a map or guide of some sort. Directions.”

Kari beamed at her for a moment before becoming businesslike again. “That’s good enough for me. Mr. Hajjar, you have a sale.”

“Splendid,” said Hajjar, beaming as well, although considerably more rapaciously. “The money transfer?”

Kari indicated for Nina to return the artifact to its foam tray, then closed the briefcase. Nina felt a twinge of disappointment as the gleaming metal disappeared from sight. Chase slid it over to his side of the table as Kari opened her own case.

Nina had almost expected it to be full of banknotes, but instead she saw a piece of electronic hardware the size and shape of a Palm Pilot, with a chunky telephone handset connected to it. Kari picked up the phone and folded out a thick antenna, then pressed a button and placed it to her ear.

“Transfer,” she said when someone answered, then, after a few seconds, “Transfer, account number 7571-1329 to account number 6502-6809. Previously arranged, authorization code two-zero-one-tango-foxtrot. Ten million dollars U.S.” She paused, listening intently as her words were repeated back to her. “Yes, confirm.” She pressed her right thumb against the blank screen of the device in her briefcase, then nodded at Hajjar.

“I’ll have to use my left thumb,” he smirked, waving his hook hand at Nina.

Kari waited for confirmation of his thumbprint, then nodded to Hajjar again. The Iranian looked immensely pleased with himself, turning to Volgan. “There. Your retirement fund is about to be seven million dollars better off.”

“You’re taking thirty percent?” Chase asked. “Bloody hell! Thought you said you weren’t a thief.”

Hajjar scowled, but said nothing to him, instead turning back to Kari. “Just one thing left to do, Ms. Frost…”

“I know,” she said with a hint of impatience, before switching her attention back to the phone. “Ready for final security check.” She gave Nina a knowing glance before speaking. “‘In the temple they placed statues of gold; there was the god himself standing in a chariot, the charioteer of six winged horses, and of such a size that he touched the roof of the building with his head.’”

Nina immediately recognized it as a passage from Critias, but couldn’t imagine why Kari had quoted it. Maybe it was some sort of password—but wouldn’t her thumbprint and all the other codes she’d given be enough to confirm her identity?

Whatever the reason, it worked. “Thank you,” said Kari, before closing the phone’s antenna. She caught Nina’s puzzled look. “It’s a voiceprint and stress analysis system,” she explained. “The latest security measure. If my voice shows that I’m under stress, that I’m being coerced, the transfer will be canceled.”

“But everything was in order,” said Hajjar. “Thank you, Ms. Frost.” For the briefest instant, his eyes flicked towards the ceiling. “Our business is now successfully concluded.” He turned to leave—

Chase’s hand flashed up, his Wildey aimed right at Hajjar’s head. “Hold it!”

Hajjar froze, his bodyguards following suit as Castille whipped out his own gun and pointed it at them. “What is this?” he hissed.

“Mr. Chase?” Kari asked, concerned.

“Where’s the bug?” Chase demanded. “That was a trigger phrase, you’ve got someone listening to us.”

“I don’t—”

“Tell me where the bug is, or I’ll kill you.” He pulled back the gun’s hammer with an emphatic click.

Hajjar looked up again, breathing heavily through his clenched teeth. “On that beam.”

Chase nodded to Castille, who hopped onto the table and ran his hand along a roof beam. He jumped down a few seconds later with a small black box in one hand. “Transmitter.”

Nina looked between them in confusion. “What’s going on?”

“It’s a setup,” said Chase. “He was going to wait until the money was transferred, then keep the thing for himself. Guess that proves it’s genuine, anyway.” He looked back at Hajjar, his gun fixed on his face. “How many men have you got out there?”

“The only man I have out there is my pilot,” Hajjar snarled.

The bright red dot of a laser sight appeared on Chase’s chest, followed a moment later by another, twin beams shining through the grubby window. From outside came the sound of running footsteps.

Hajjar’s sneer became a mocking grin. “But my good friend Captain Mahjad of the Iranian army has about twenty soldiers with him.”

Nina jumped back in fright as the door burst open. Four uniformed men rushed in, rifles raised.

“Well,” said Chase, “buggeration and fuckery.”

After confiscating the group’s belongings, the soldiers directed their prisoners outside at the point of their rifles, locally made copies of the German Heckler and Koch G3. Hajjar followed with the briefcase containing the artifact, a gloating smile on his pudgy face.

Chase saw Hafez kneeling with his hands behind his head by the Land Rover, all its doors wide open. Two more soldiers guarded him. Other troops surrounded the building. He immediately realized what had happened: the soldiers had been hiding at the top of the steep slope above the farmhouse, using ropes to make a fast descent.

He saw that a couple of the Iranians were carrying Russian-made Dragunov sniper rifles, equipped with laser sights as well as telescopic scopes. That explained why Hafez hadn’t gotten off a warning. Being pinned under the needlelike line of a laser, with the knowledge that a high-velocity bullet could explode against the glowing red spot in an instant, encouraged a person to keep very, very still and quiet.

“I’m sorry, Eddie,” said Hafez. “There were too many of them.” One of the guards kicked him.

“I think we all bollocked things up this time,” Chase replied. The possibility of Hajjar enlisting military backup hadn’t even occurred to him. The dealer’s corruption spread much further than he’d thought.

In the distance he spotted a dull brown truck rumbling up the dirt road. It must have been parked out of sight, responding to a summons now that the soldiers’ mission had been completed.

Hajjar approached an officer, hanging the briefcase from his hook as he shook hands. “Captain Mahjad! May I introduce my … business associates?”

Mahjad, a lanky, bearded man, grinned at the group of captives. “A pleasure. So, Failak, what do you want done with them?”

“The blond woman and the Russian, I’m going to take them with me.”

Mahjad leered at Kari, who shot him an icy look in return. “I don’t know about him, but I can definitely see why you’d take her.”

“It’s nothing like that. Although …” Hajjar looked thoughtful, then laughed again. “As for the others, I don’t really care. Just as long as they don’t come after me.”

“Not a problem. The Ministry of Culture has been cracking down on foreigners trying to steal our treasures. They should get at least twenty years in prison—if they live to reach trial.”

“I’ll leave that up to you.” Hajjar snapped his fingers at his bodyguards. “Handcuff them,” he said, indicating Kari and Volgan.

“Where are you taking her?” Chase shouted. One of the soldiers slammed the butt of his rifle into his back, sending him reeling.

“To my home. Don’t worry, nothing will happen to her. As long as her father cooperates.”

“You’re going to ransom me?” Kari asked, appalled. One of the bodyguards pulled her hands behind her back, clicking a pair of handcuffs around her wrists.

“I think another ten million dollars seems fair, don’t you?” said Hajjar to Chase, ignoring her. “If I had such a beautiful daughter, I’d think it was a bargain.” He dropped his voice to a more menacing tone. “To make sure she stayed beautiful.”

“You do anything to her,” Chase growled, “and I’ll kill you.”

“Is that the best threat you can come up with?” scoffed Hajjar.

“After you beg me to.”

Hajjar shrugged. “Better. I’ll worry about it… in twenty years.”

“Mr. Chase,” said Kari as the bodyguards pulled her and Volgan away, “remember what you were hired for. Protect Dr. Wilde. That’s your top priority.”

“But—”

“Do you understand?”

Chase nodded reluctantly. “Yeah.”

“Good.” She turned her attention to the helicopter, then to Hajjar. “You only have five seats, and there’s six of us. Or are you going to dangle from the skids by your hook?”

“You can ride on Yuri’s lap,” said Hajjar with a lecherous smirk. “He deserves a last pleasure … before I sell him back to Qobras.”

The blood drained from Volgan’s face. “What? No! No, Failak, we had a deal!”

“And I’m sure Qobras will have a better one. Why should I settle for three million dollars when I can keep all ten million, and have Qobras pay me even more to get you and the artifact back?”

“No!” Volgan shrieked. Even though his hands were cuffed behind his back, he threw himself against the bodyguard holding him, slamming him off balance.

The other bodyguard whirled, releasing his hold on Kari’s arm—as the Russian drove a kick deep into his stomach. Volgan jumped over the bodyguard as he fell, and ran awkwardly for the farmhouse. The soldiers overcame their surprise, weapons coming up.

“Don’t shoot!” cried Hajjar. Mahjad looked startled, then urgently repeated the order.

The soldiers paused for an instant, caught between trained instinct and the orders of their superior officer.

The instant was all Chase needed.

He grabbed the barrel of the nearest soldier’s rifle, jerking it out of the startled man’s grip and twisting his wrist to flip the gun over onto its back as his other hand stabbed at the trigger.

He felt the heat of the bullet through the metal barrel as the gun fired, scorching his palm. The soldier lurched backwards, the bullet ripping right through him and showering the Land Rover with blood and mashed lung tissue.

Before any of the other soldiers could react, Chase flipped the gun over again, jamming the selector switch to full auto and unleashing bursts of fire at the soldiers with the Dragunovs. They fell. If the remaining soldiers fired at him, they ran the risk of hitting their own comrades, which would deter them for a moment.

“Nina!” he shouted. She stared uncomprehendingly at him, totally unprepared for his lethal flurry of action. He reached out to grab her arm, but one of the soldiers reacted more quickly than his companions and tackled Nina to the ground. Chase couldn’t shoot him without hitting her—

He immediately changed tactics. “Hugo!” he yelled, jerking his head at the Land Rover. Castille was already following his example, grappling with a soldier for his rifle.

Another soldier smashed his rifle onto the back of his skull. Castille collapsed.

Chase snapped his head around at the sound of a pained gasp. Hafez was trying to get to his feet, but one of the guards kicked him back down. The other was aiming at Chase with his G3—

Chase dived into the back of the Land Rover. He had just enough time to slam the door shut before the window blew apart, bullets chunking through the 4×4’s aluminum skin.

“Eddie!” Nina screamed as the soldier pulled her to her feet, hauling her roughly away from the Land Rover. She struggled and kicked, but he was too strong for her to escape. Another two men pinned Castille to the ground.

The soldier kept firing, emptying his entire ammo clip into the vehicle.

For a moment, everything was silent. Then he grabbed the handle of the bullet-riddled door and yanked it open.

The Land Rover was empty. The soldier stared in confusion. Then he heard a faint noise and looked down.

In the rear footwell, the hand grenade rolled to a stop.

He opened his mouth to scream—

The scream never emerged. The grenade exploded, blasting him backwards in a storm of jagged metal.

The soldiers holding Castille were caught in the blast, as was Hafez’s remaining guard. But their prisoners, flat on the ground, escaped unharmed as the deadly shrapnel shot over them.

Lying against the rear wheel on the other side of the Land Rover, Chase clamped his hands over his ears as the door above him was blown from its hinges. He watched it whirl away like a giant square Frisbee and crash down on the slope below.

Chase looked under the vehicle. The nearest soldiers were all either injured or dead, but the others were recovering from the shock of the explosion. At least ten of them, all armed.

All angry.

Kari’s long white coat immediately caught his eye by the helicopter. One of Hajjar’s bodyguards held her, and the Iranian captain was covering her with his pistol as he screamed orders to his men.

Nina—

The soldier who’d tackled her had his arms wrapped around her in a bear hug as he dragged her backwards.

No way he could risk a shot. And his G3 only had a few bullets left anyway.

Mind racing, he assessed the situation.

Nina was relatively safe for the moment, even as a captive, but it wouldn’t take long for one of the Iranians to get the idea to use her as a hostage, forcing him to surrender. Hajjar and Captain Mahjad spoke English—and they had heard Kari order him to protect Nina above everything else …

Which meant that to protect her right now, he had to abandon her.

He grabbed the G3 and crouched in the cover of the smoking Land Rover as he backed away—then sprang up and fired his remaining bullets in a sweep. He was deliberately aiming high, not trying to hit anyone but instead forcing them to duck, confusing them as he ran, sprinting for the steep slope down to the valley floor.

Rifles crackled behind him as the solders opened fire.

The valley opened out below, the lazy curve of the railway lines vanishing into the tunnel.

A bullet hissed past his head, close enough for him to feel its shockwave. He jumped, clearing the edge of the slope, and flew through the air to land on—

The Land Rover’s door!

It skidded down the hill in a flurry of dust and gravel, Chase clinging to it like a child on a speeding sled.

He knew it wouldn’t take him far—the slope was too rocky. But he didn’t need it to. He just needed the extra yards it could give him before the soldiers reached the edge and fired down after him.

A boulder loomed ahead, poking out of the hillside like a bad tooth. Chase jumped again, throwing himself sideways and hitting the ground hard as the door smashed into the rock and crumpled like cardboard. He tried to use his feet to brake himself, but he was moving too fast and tumbled helplessly down the hill. Grit spat into his face, blinding him.

Gunfire from above!

Something whipped against him. Not a bullet, but plants, tough grass and scrubby bushes. That meant he was near the bottom. But how near?

He forced his eyes open against the stinging dust… and saw the ground drop out from under him.

With a yell that echoed all the way back to the top of the slope, Chase fell into empty space.

One of the soldiers winced. “Ow. That’ll hurt.” The foreigner had shot right over the top of the entrance to the railway tunnel and plunged out of sight onto the tracks.

“Serves the bastard right!” snarled the man next to him. Special forces or not, a drop that high onto the unforgiving steel and concrete of a railway line would break a bone or two, maybe even kill a man.

Mahjad strode over to them and looked down. The Englishman’s route down the steep slope was easy to follow, a trail of drifting dust winding down to the tunnel. “Get the ropes,” he ordered. “I want three men to go down there and find him. If he’s dead, take his body to the train yard. If he’s alive …” his face twisted with a mix of anger and sadistic humor, “take his body to the train yard.”

“Sir!” The soldiers saluted, three of them preparing to descend the slope.

Mahjad walked back to Hajjar. The fleeing Russian had been recaptured, and now stood under guard with the other prisoners. “This is all your fault!” Mahjad snapped, jabbing a finger into Hajjar’s face. “You didn’t tell me he was some sort of trained assassin!”

“I didn’t know myself!” Hajjar blustered. “I thought he was just an ex-soldier she’d hired as a bodyguard!” He gestured at Kari, who glared back with chilly disdain.

“I’ve got four dead men and another three wounded! How am I going to explain this? How?”

Hajjar licked his lips nervously, sweating even in the cool breeze. “Perhaps … a donation of some sort to their families? And their commanding officer?”

“I’ll tell you what sort of donation, Failak,” snarled Mahjad. He paused for a moment. Hajjar’s nervousness grew. “A very large one.”

“I’ll make the arrangements as soon as I return to my home,” said Hajjar, relieved.

Mahjad regarded him coldly. “You’d better.”

“You have my word. Now,” he said, giving Kari another look, “I have to leave. There’s some urgent business I need to take care of—and it would be best if we’re not seen together at the scene of this … unfortunate incident.”

Mahjad nodded reluctantly, and his soldiers drew Nina, Castille and Hafez away while the others boarded the Jet Ranger. Volgan, now too scared to protest, sat in the center rear seat, one of Hajjar’s bodyguards on either side, while Kari was forced onto his lap. With her hands cuffed behind her back, there was little she could do to resist as the seat belt was tightly secured around her waist, effectively tying her to Volgan.

Hajjar took the copilot’s seat. “Oh, Ms. Frost,” he said, reaching back to take her chin in his one hand, “no need to look like that. You won’t be mistreated—you’re far too valuable. As long as your father cooperates, at least.”

Kari jerked out of his grasp. “You’ve made the worst mistake of your life, Hajjar.”

He gave her a smug smile. “Now, now. There’s no need to make this unpleasant. Just sit back and enjoy the ride. And if you want to help Yuri relax …” he glanced at the ashenfaced Volgan behind her, “then by all means wriggle about. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it. The last pleasure of the condemned man, hmm?” The smile turned cold. “Just don’t wriggle too much. It would be unfortunate if my bodyguards thought you were trying to escape and shot you.” One of the men poked the muzzle of his gun into her side for emphasis.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she sneered.

“Good!” Hajjar turned to his pilot. “Let’s go.”

Nina watched in shock and disbelief as the helicopter took off and wheeled away. From New York academia to Iranian prisoner in the space of two days—what the hell had happened to her life?

And now Kari was being held for ransom, and as for Chase …

She couldn’t understand much of what the soldiers were saying, but from their unhurried pace it was clear they thought he was dead.

A large military truck arrived at the farmhouse. As the soldiers shoved her, Castille and Hafez aboard, she had to fight not to cry.