Atlantis Stolen (Sam Reilly Book 3) (25 page)

The tunnel led
down much lower than anywhere they’d been inside Atlantis. After nearly an
hour, the ancient escape route turned and they began the long journey in an
upwards direction. Sam looked at his survival time in his ADS machine – they
were down to six hours. They would need to begin the process of surfacing soon,
if they were to make it in time. Sam swam around the next bend in the tunnel,
revealing the opening inside a small cave overlooking the outside of Poseidon’s
temple.

“What do you
think? Are Andrew’s men taking chances that we’re dead or will they be waiting
for us on the surface?” Tom asked.

Sam was about to
answer, and then noticed that next to the extensive outer dome, a sad-looking
Snow Cat stood looking very out of place, nearly 500 feet below the surface.

“Oh yeah, they weren’t
taking any chances. Now we’re stuck about three hundred miles from anywhere, in
the Siberian winter without a vehicle!”

“All right, let’s
go face the elements.” Tom began the systematic process of ascending.

The massive
facemask of Sam’s ADS machine broached the surface of Lake Cheko. Tentative
that a second attack might be imminent, he decided not to return through the
hole they’d originally created. Instead, he built a new one as close to the
shore as possible.

He scanned the
area quickly, seeing nothing but white. Then, switching on his helmet-mounted infrared
monitor, he scanned the area above. Reassured nothing except snow surrounded
them, Sam climbed out and made his way to the edge of the lake.

“Okay Tom, I
think we’re clear. Your turn.”

“Coming right
up.”

Sam dug a
makeshift snow cave with the remaining power of his ADS machine. And then
carefully began exiting the awesome machine. Opening the exit below him, he
climbed down. After opening the antennae to his satellite phone, he pressed the
call button.

“Did you find out
where Atlantis is?” The Secretary of Defense was quick to answer.

“Yes, Manhattan!”
Sam replied. “But there’s more that we learnt, too.”

“It’s going to
activate in the next 48 hours.” She said the words slowly, with her usual air
of superiority.

“You knew?” Sam
asked accusingly.

“Of course I
bloody well know what the Atlantis device does. We were there in 1908! We knew
it’s due to be triggered again, but we just prayed like hell that the second
damn temple wasn’t on our side of the Atlantic!”

“We still have to
work out precisely where, and we don’t have long to do so.”

“Yes, leave that
to me, I’ll put all our manpower into it,” she said. “But do you have the code
to Atlantis?”

“No.”

“Then it’s all
over, anyway,” the Secretary Defense said.

“No it’s not.
Because I think Billie might have found it.”

“I thought you
said that awful woman had been kidnapped?”

“She has been.
Most likely by a man named Andrew Brandt. From what information I’ve gotten on
him. He’s a Rhodes Scholar. He was exceptional at math, and appeared to be in
the process of being groomed for a position with NASA.”

“So, what
happened to him? Why didn’t we get him?”

“Altruism or
science for the betterment of mankind wasn’t part of his plan. Instead, he took
the fortune his father had left him and opened up a merchant bank – The Phoenix
Associates. From what we’ve learned about him, he specializes in unique and
often highly illegal acquisitions. His problems started well before he was
born. His father, and grandfather, were part of a secret organization known as
the Phoenix Resistance for thousands of years. They swore to protect the Secret
of Atlantis – I can only imagine this would be the code we’re after. Perhaps
through the ages they’ve lost it, or they never had it to begin with.
Ultimately, I think they kidnapped Billie because they thought she could find
it for them.”

“And you think
they’ll bring Billie to Atlantis?”

“I’m certain of
it. In fact, I doubt they even know where Atlantis is themselves. All we need
to do is beat them to Atlantis. Find Atlantis, we find Billie, and if we can
get her back alive, we’ll have the code.”

Up ahead, Sam
heard the familiar whir of a couple Sikorsky SH-60 Seahawk.

He looked at Tom.
“We’ve got company.”

Tom nodded his
head and prepared the remaining RPG to be fired.

“What is it?” the
Secretary of Defense asked.

“We’ve got to go.
We’ve got incoming. Sounds like a couple Sikorsky.”

The Secretary of
Defense said, “Those are my birds on an extraction mission for you. Don’t you
dare damage my hardware, or it will come out of your bank.”

“That’s the first
bit of good news I think you’ve ever told me,” he said, while motioning to Tom
to put the RPG down.

“I have a jet
waiting to take you to JFK airport. I personally will meet you on the ground.
We don’t have much time to pull this off!”

“Understood.” Sam
thought about that celestial ceiling within Poseidon’s temple. Its purpose
suddenly struck something in his mind. “Madam Secretary, there’s one more
thing.”

“What?” her reply
was curt.

“Contact the head
of NASA’s Near Earth Object Program. It’s just a hunch, but I need to know if
there’s anything large heading toward earth.”

Billie sat still.
There was little of any use that she could do in her current position. She
tried to force herself to relax long enough to sleep. She would need all her
wits about her if she was going to beat Andrew when the opportunity arose. For
nearly twenty-four hours he had kept moving her. Someone had bound her eyes
tight with an impenetrable piece of leather, almost immediately afterward
handcuffing her to a steel brace bar inside the helicopter. From the helicopter
Billie was moved to a jet, most likely privately owned she guessed, because she
heard no one else on it with the exception of the man who had taken her.

Andrew, if it was
even him, had sat opposite her on the jet drinking something that smelled like
rich cognac. Then after a few hours, the smell of his dinner became painful. It
was roast beef with vegetables. She could imagine the look of gravy poured over
the peas, carrots, and potatoes as she heard the man savoring each bite. 

She had waited for
him to speak, not wanting to provide him with the upper hand. He wanted her to
feel helpless, she gathered. Billie had no intention of giving him such
pleasure, so despite her hunger and being deprived the ability to piss, she
remained silent. It was a game he was playing with her, but for what purpose
she had no idea. He had not spoken a word to her since kidnapping her, when he
simply told her that she would die, but first there were a few things he wanted
her to clear up.

She could almost
feel him staring at her. Enjoying her discomfort – waiting for her to get
herself really fired up with the anxiety that overcame most people in her
situation. He was savoring the moment, and she imagined him wanting to do
something to provoke her, but carefully restraining his carnal desires.
Delaying immediate gratification for something much greater – her complete
supplication.

Well, she
wouldn’t be giving him that.

What’s the
worst thing he can do to me? Kill me. Okay, so he’s already established that
he’s going to do that. Based on that, any way I can alter the outcome will be
in my advantage. If I only have a day to live, it will be worth it to ruin his.

But what does he
really need from me?

The answer came
immediately to her head –
Power!
She doubted it was sexual. Already,
she’d begun to feel like she knew the man. Edward had told her all about his
past. He was a rich kid, given money and power by his father. But he was also a
Rhodes Scholar, which meant he was exceptionally astute. He was the head of an
eleven-thousand-year old cult aimed at ensuring the secret of Atlantis reached
its violent fruition. And that made him a fanatic. Even terrorists rarely carry
on throughout multiple generations – but to maintain the desire to destroy
humanity for eleven thousand years takes fanatical persistence. The more she
thought about it, the less she believed what he desired was at all sexual.

No, he craves
power and by the sounds of things gets off over it, the sick fuck. But that’s
not what he needs me for. I have something, or else he would have simply put
two bullets in my head as he had the rest of the people on the ship.

Could he still
need the code to Atlantis?

Edward! –
Her thoughts quickly moved to the old man, and her heart slumped
with the almost certain knowledge that he was now dead, his carcass most likely
being eaten by crocodiles. They had all died. There was no reason why she
should care more for him than anyone else. But he’d been kind to her. More than
that – he had taken her under his wing as he would his own daughter. He never
quite got around to explaining it to her, but she knew that the old man had a
sad story with his own daughter.

She stopped
herself having the luxury of self-pity, and returned quickly to the task of
finding what Andrew was after.

So if Andrew
already had the code to Atlantis, what did he want?

Could it be
that he doesn’t actually know where Atlantis is?  

She dismissed the
idea almost immediately.

No, he knows
where it is. Mark would have had that information. Otherwise he would have
already tried to find out from her where it was, instead of flying there.  

Billie had no
doubt that they were flying directly toward New York.

He’s already
been there! Which means – he’s seen the challenges. He can’t pass them! That’s
what he needs me for.

And that meant
there was time… if only she could get a message to Sam Reilly.

The flight
continued. It made a brief landing. From what she could gather, it was only to
refuel. Her ears, now highly attuned to the sounds around her, noticed that the
man who was watching her had stood up to stretch his legs.

She waited for a
few minutes and then stood up herself.

Instantly she was
punched in the gut. The force knocked the wind out of her lungs, and as her
diaphragm went into a spasm, she struggled to take the next breath. Slowly she
curled up, back in her seat.

Then, slowly
gaining the ability to breathe again, Billie said, “I was going to the bathroom,
you fuckwit!”

“So go,” the man
replied with a laugh.

She hated to let
the man have his way, but even so, it was a long flight to the U.S. and there
was no way that she was going to hold it all that way.

Without speaking,
she simply pissed on the man’s jet.

“The fucking
bitch just wet herself!” the man said.

“Good.” It was
the voice she’d associated with Andrew. “That means we’re almost ready to
begin.”

Edward reached
the shore with Zanzibe, the pygmy king. It was a long swim, over a mile, and at
80 years of age, he was probably in the one percent of his age bracket who
could possibly do it. The fact that he didn’t die of a heart attack during the
swim only proved that the purpose that drove him was more valuable than his
life. He could die soon, after he had performed his task, but not before.

“Thank you
Zanzibe – I would not be here if you hadn’t entered when you had.”

“No. I know
you’re not one of them. You’re not a god, but Dr. Swan is, isn’t she?”

Edward nodded his
head.

“And you’re going
to save her life!” the pygmy insisted.

“Me? How the hell
do you expect me to do that? I’m in the middle of the Congo jungle, without
anything, and they’re in a helicopter, probably already boarding a plane to
Atlantis. I want Andrew dead as much as you do, and I want to save Dr. Swan
too, but I don’t think it’s possible. Hell, I don’t even know how I’m going to
get out of this jungle, let alone to New York.”

“I will help
you.”

Edward laughed.
“I hate to tell you this, but despite being the king of your little tribe,
there is a really big world out here, and there’s little that any of us can do
to change it.”

“I believe you’re
right, but all the same. I need you to save Dr. Swan’s life – before the code
to Atlantis is initiated, and your ‘really big world’ has a bad day.”

“Okay, so how do
we get out of the jungle from here?”

“Leave that to
me.”

The pygmy then
started to call out in an ancient pygmy dialect sounding more like a bird’s
mating ritual than anything human. Within minutes it was answered.

Great – he
speaks with the animals!

And then all went
quiet in the jungle.

“What did they
say?”

“They said they’d
help you. Because it is important, not because they like you.”

“Great. Which way
do we walk?”

The pygmy pointed
toward a small opening in the dense forest. “There.”

Five minutes
later the quietness of the jungled was interrupted by the sound of chopper
blades spinning.

Edward grinned at
the little native. “You ordered a helicopter?”

“Of course. And
now, I’m coming with you, to make sure you don’t screw it up.”