The Mask of Troy (45 page)

‘That’s why they call it the bends.’

‘Help me. Please. Help me.’

Costas paused. ‘Well, Chechnya, you have a choice. With all that nitrogen fizzing in your bloodstream, another bubble will form, a big one, and go to your brain. Maybe it will kill you straight away, maybe not. Maybe you’ll live for hours, screaming in pain, insane. And then you will die. Or you can go back down and join your friends. Going deep, the pressure will ease your pain. And you will drown, an easier death.’

The man pathetically waved his right hand as if to reach for his regulator, and flapped one fin. ‘Help me get in. I can’t move.’

Costas sighed. ‘It seems you’ve made your choice.’ He turned to go, wading towards the entrance to the sump, behind Jack. They both crouched through the hole created by the rockfall, and knelt in the water on the other side. They could see a glimmer of light through the water from the pool where they had entered, where they had left Wladislaw only forty minutes before. Costas felt the rock, peering at it, then looked at the man still visible in the background, groaning. He unhooked the remainder of the detonation cord from his gear, coiled it into a crack at the top of the rockfall and crimped a blasting cap on to it. Then he glanced at Jack. ‘Ready?’ Jack nodded. Costas kept one hand on the cap, and stared back through the jagged hole. The man was moaning, his eyes pointing in different directions, sightless.

‘Hey, Chechnya,’ Costas bellowed. ‘Happy hangover.’ He clicked the cap, snapped shut his visor and dropped down into the sump, quickly finning behind Jack up into the green pool. There was a thump and a rumble of falling rock. Costas came up alongside Jack, visor to visor, and they rose to the surface. ‘Three down,’ Jack said.

‘Not for a little while yet, I hope,’ Costas said grimly.

They broke surface. The light bulb was still on. Jack quickly scanned the tunnel up the line of the train track. There was no one to be seen. Wladislaw must have followed his instructions.
Good
. He dragged himself on to the edge of the pool, then quickly unhooked his hoses and his rebreather unit, slipping it off. He unhooked his helmet and dumped it beside him, and took a deep breath. Costas did the same, then sniffed loudly. ‘It smells better here than when we left. That vodka breath. Phew.’

‘How’s your deco?’

Costas glanced at his gauge. ‘Fine. You?’

‘Three minutes margin.’

‘My guess is we’re going to go flying. We’ll have to go in the recompression chamber on the Embraer.’

Jack stood while Costas unzipped the back of his e-suit. He remembered claustrophic hours spent in that chamber, a long metal tube with barely enough room to kneel in.

‘At least we can lie down,’ Costas said, yanking on the zipper.

Jack grunted. He bent down and drew the neck seal over his head, then pulled out his arms. He saw that the suit was still covered in blood. ‘Hard stuff to get off, blood,’ he murmured, turning to unzip Costas.

‘Forget it. What you did, you had to do.’

‘I don’t have a problem with that. I just mean a ruined e-suit.’

Costas pulled his own suit over his head and stepped out of the legs, and Jack did the same with his. They both quickly went to Costas’ bag and got dressed, zipping up their fleeces. Jack went back and took the bag with the swastika box from his e-suit belt and tucked it under his arm. Costas delved in his bag and pulled out two small bottles of water and two energy drinks, and they both squatted on their haunches, drinking. Jack finished the water, then uncapped the other drink. ‘I couldn’t help noticing. Some good archaeology down there.’

‘Jesus, Jack.’

‘You had your fix. The bomb.’

‘Jack, for all the Neolithic hand axes and little statues in the world, I wouldn’t go back in there again.’

Jack took a deep swig, then stood up, nodding. ‘Roger that.’ He dropped the bottle in the bag. ‘Right. We have to get cracking. Got everything we need?’ He patted his pockets, feeling for his things. Costas did the same, then looked at him, and put his hand on his shoulder. Costas’ hair was matted and his face lined with exhaustion, but his eyes were cold and determined. ‘We can leave all this here. All we need is your phone.’

‘I know where that is. We need to get in touch with the kidnappers and convince them that we’ve got what they want. They’ll have been expecting Chechnya to have it, having disposed of us. But if they’ve got any intelligence, what’s happened won’t come as a complete surprise. Not the desired outcome, but it doesn’t change the balance of power. They’ve still got what we want, and we’ve got what they want. We have to keep them thinking that.’

There was a sudden rumble, a deep vibration that sent a shimmer across the pool of water, a pulse of energy that coursed through the rock. They both stood silently for a moment, watching dust shake off the walls of the chamber. The rumble stopped. The tunnel ahead was still clear.

Costas coughed. ‘Remote detonation. Always the safest way. I timed that perfectly, don’t you think?’

Jack narrowed his eyes. ‘Let’s move.’

 

Ten minutes later they left the lift shaft and went straight into the office where they had first met Wladislaw. Jack found his phone on the desk pad, exactly as he had instructed.
Good man
. He picked it up and switched it on, tapping his fingers impatiently while it connected, and then he pressed the code for the IMU secure channel. It was picked up immediately. ‘Jack.’

‘Ben.’

‘Status.’

‘The Lions are at the Gate.’ It was a code they had prearranged in case anyone might be eavesdropping on the line. ‘I repeat,
The Lions are at the Gate
.’

‘Copy that. Now switch off your phone and put it down.’ Jack did as instructed. Seconds later there was a muffled ringing sound. He went round to the front of the desk and pulled open a drawer. It was another phone, evidently Wladislaw’s personal phone he had left there. Jack picked it up. ‘Yes?’

‘Okay, Jack.’ It was Ben again. ‘Wladislaw called us when he returned to the office and I told him to leave his phone there. I’m using a disposable. We can’t be too careful. In about two minutes you’ll be answering your phone again. It’s a pre-recorded message that will only come through once. It’s essential that you listen to what I’m about to say now.’

‘Copy that.’ Jack did as instructed, staring hard at the ground as Ben spoke. After less than a minute he lowered the phone and clicked it off. Almost immediately his iPhone rang, and he answered it. There was a crackle, and then he heard a voice, educated English but with a hint of an accent. ‘Dr Howard. This message presupposes that you have found what I want but your diving companions are unable to bring it to me. As you will know by now, your people have been given our instructions. You will wish to speak to your daughter.’ The crackle ended, there was a click and then a uniform hissing sound. He heard sounds of movement, a scuffle, then breathing close to the phone.

‘Dad?’

‘Rebecca.’
Thank God
. ‘Are you all right?’ Jack’s mind raced. ‘You must be tired.’

‘Yes, but nice to stand here and imagine Orion.’

Jack’s mind raced.
Night sky
. A time zone ahead of where they were now. And the constellation Orion. She and Jack had stood on the battlements looking for it two nights ago, then realized it was still below the horizon. He had told her that he had always thought of Orion as his guardian, ever since he was a boy.
So that was it. She really was there
.

‘Orion’s looking after you, even if you can’t see him,’ Jack said carefully. ‘You don’t need to worry.’

‘It’s kind of, um, creepy, though. I could really do with a double vodka.’

Jack remembered what she had called Raitz.
A creep
. And what the US Marines she had befriended in Kyrgyzstan called a Russian male.
A shot of vodka
. Professor Raitz, and two Russian thugs. ‘You need to keep warm,’ Jack said slowly. ‘You should be inside.’

‘Don’t worry, Dad. We’re going back in now. I found us a place. It’s only just opened. You’d be amazed, Dad. It’s so cool.’ There was a sudden scuffling sound, then a guttural snarl, Russian, and another man’s voice in English. ‘Give it back to her,’ the voice said. Rebecca came on the line again. She was panting. ‘Sorry, Dad. I have to go. I love you. I just want to know. On the shipwreck. Did you find it?’

Jack was stunned. It seemed an age ago. A lifetime. He flashed back to the moment the day before when he had been carrying the shield upwards, imagining Rebecca looking down and seeing it. He swallowed hard. ‘We found it, Rebecca. Costas and I found it. You’ll be amazed.’

‘When do I get to see it?’

‘Tomor—’ The phone was snatched away, and went dead. He hoped Rebecca had heard the word. He turned to Costas, who had gone out of the room and now returned. Jack clenched his hands, felt the energy course through him. He was beyond tired, but those few words with Rebecca had kept the adrenalin pumping. ‘Okay. Here’s the plan. Ben’s got in touch with Wladislaw and he’s coming to pick us up. The Embraer’s fuelled and ready to go at Krakow airport. At Istanbul we transfer to the helicopter and then to
Seaquest II
. If all goes to plan, we should be there by about three a.m. Ben’s going to have a security team ready, as well as a section of Turkish navy commandos from the minesweeper.’

‘He’s told the authorities?’ Costas asked.

Jack shook his head. ‘Too risky. The kidnappers want the Lynx to fly to international waters, where they’re going to drop Rebecca in a Zodiac. They must have a vessel offshore. There’s obviously big money behind this. We don’t want an overzealous policeman jeopardizing the whole thing. But Ben’s told the minesweeper captain we suspect we’re being shadowed. Has to be kept top secret. The Turkish navy guys are fully prepped on the illegal antiquities trade and this is just what they’d love to get their teeth into. Officially it’s a covert training exercise. Ben will tell them about the kidnapping once they’re in position and you and I are inside.’ He heard a car draw up outside. ‘Here’s our ride. We’ve got to move, now.’

‘Where are we going?’

Jack looked at his hands. There was still blood in the cracks, under his fingernails. He thought of what he had just done, in the mine. He felt nothing.
Nothing
. He looked up, and gave Costas a steely look. ‘We’re going to Troy.’

 

J
ack crouched low against the bank of the watercourse, training his night-vision scope on the overgrown mound about a kilometre away across the fields. It was the first time for fifteen years that he had seen Troy from this vantage point, only a few hundred yards from the spot where he and Costas had excavated the ancient beach with the galley timbers from the time of the Trojan War. The dykes and marshy fields looked like no-man’s-land, an image of war. There was a hint of a breeze, and Jack remembered imagining Greek warriors standing silently among the rustling reeds, their spears black against the moonlight, waiting for the signal to move forward. Except they now knew it had not been like that. It had been a maelstrom of raging sea and hellfire, a wave of destruction that swept the warriors in their ships from this place up against the battlements, arrows storming down, engulfed in flames.

He never could have imagined being back here again in these circumstances, sighting the best approach route to confront the kidnappers who had taken his daughter. He put down the scope, took a deep drink from his water bottle, zipped up his fleece and slid down close to the river course where he could stand up without being seen from the mound. He had to keep moving. He had not slept while he and Costas had been on the Embraer from Krakow airport in Poland, cooped up for half the flight in the recompression chamber after their dive in the mine. His only thoughts had been of Rebecca. He knew she was out there. He had spoken to her on the cell phone the night before. And it might only be a matter of time before whoever was behind this determined that the palladion had not been in the mine after all, and that what Jack was doing now was a charade. If that happened, all bargaining chips were lost. Rebecca might became irrelevant to the kidnappers, yet too much of a liability to return alive.

He slithered along the mud bank to where Ben and Costas were waiting, just visible in the moonlight. He glanced at his watch. It was five a.m., and the time stipulated by the kidnapper was an hour from now. They had got here as fast as they could, with barely time to get their plan into action. Ben beckoned him over, and Jack and Costas hunched down, listening. ‘I’ve got to get my team in position now,’ Ben said. ‘Here’s the score. The kidnappers have come here because this is our turf. They know we’ve got carte blanche here from the authorities. We can clear the place, which we’ve done. There’s nobody else anywhere near the site tonight. All our personnel, Hiebermeyer, everyone, are back on
Seaquest II
. And the kidnappers are using us for the getaway. The Lynx is going to land in the car park at 0530. They’re going to leave in it, with Rebecca, once the exchange is made, and go directly to a vessel waiting for them beyond the twelve-mile territorial limit. Except they’re not going to do that. Because Jack doesn’t have what they want, only an empty box. So the only way they’re getting out of here is in a body bag or in cuffs. Am I right?’

‘Roger that,’ Costas muttered.

‘Costas has an iPhone. When he calls, my team goes in. Until then, you’re on your own. Jack, Costas has what I promised you. All clear?’

‘Copy that,’ Costas said. Ben disappeared into the darkness. Costas reached in his bag and took out Macalister’s Webley revolver. ‘Ben said he’s tested the loads. The accuracy’s phenomenal, but aim low and to the right because there’s an almighty kick. Something about a manstopper.’

Jack picked up the heavy revolver, weighing it in his hands, seeing that the chambers were loaded. He opened his khaki bag, took out the black box with the swastika emblem on the lid and put the revolver inside, in the space that had once held the Trojan palladion, with the impressed pocket in the shape of the reverse swastika removed to make space for the pistol. ‘That would be the flat-nosed bullet designed for maximum damage on impact.’