The Minoan Cipher (A Matinicus “Matt” Hawkins Adventure Book 2) (31 page)

“You should talk, dude. Kept a tight hand on that knapsack.”

“You got a name,
dude
?”

Leonidas hesitated. He switched identity so often he’d forgotten he had a real name.

“It’s Chad Williams,” he said. “What’s yours?”

Chad Williams was the name of the man who’d bought the Spike missiles from the arms dealer in the Netherlands.

“Calvin Hayes.” In a level voice, he said, “You know a guy in Amsterdam by the name of Broz?”

“Never heard of him.”

“Funny, ‘cause he knows you.” He pulled the gun out of his belt. “I’ll bet that if I rip that Halloween mask off your face I’ll see the same mug the security camera caught when you bought the Spikes.”

Chad’s reaction wasn’t what Calvin expected from a man staring into the muzzle of a gun. He laughed and looked over Calvin’s shoulder.

“Glad to take that bet, but we’ve gotta move before they get into shooting range.”

Every instinct warned Calvin not to take the word of a stranger who could switch colors like a chameleon. He changed his mind when the pumice exploded in small clouds of dust just inches from where Chad had fallen seconds before. The next shot would find its mark. Calvin raised the pistol and fired a spread of six shots, hoping to slow down their pursuers, knowing that the muzzle flashes would reveal their position. There was a pause, followed by the sound of someone yelling or crying out. Then an intense fusillade began.

“Nice going. Now they’re really pissed off,” Chad shouted over the rattle of gunfire.

“Time to make us disappear,” Calvin said.

“Follow me. Gets tricky, so watch your footing.”

Chad plunged into the gloom with Calvin close behind. Another round ricocheted off the lava a dozen feet to their left. Bullets zipped through the air like angry bees. The rounds would have ripped into their targets, but the path descended at a steep angle and the bullets passed overhead. The rocks at Calvin’s left elbow began to encroach, transforming the path into a ledge that narrowed to about a yard in width. On his right side lay darkness and potential death; on the left, was a ridged wall of rock.

The curve in the wall offered protection from the probing gunfire, but the ledge narrowed by a foot. Calvin pressed his body belly-first against the rock, arms spread like an eagle’s wings, fingers looking for hand-holds. If the ledge narrowed more, or simply disappeared, they could go neither forward nor backward. The wall bulged again. He inched his way around the curving rock.

When he got to the other side of the bulge he saw that Chad had disappeared. A hand reached out of a dark cleft in the wall and grabbed his arm.

“Keep on coming,” an echoing voice said. “Ground’s flat. You’ll be okay.”

A cell phone screen light flashed on, showing a smooth floor and timber supports in the wall and ceiling.

“We in a mine?” Calvin said.

“The island is a honey-comb of shafts and tunnels. Follow me. Floor slopes down. When I say stop, make sure you
stop
.”

After walking another thirty seconds, Chad said, “Stop!” The bobbing light showed a rectangular opening in the floor. “We go down this shaft. Me first.”

He handed the phone over, then grabbed onto a rope tied to a timber and lowered himself into the shaft. Calvin tucked the phone away and rappelled down the rope until his feet touched solid ground. Chad was in the mine entrance, silhouetted against a square of blue. Behind him were shimmering waters.

They exited through the opening and descended a ramp to a rotting pier. A winding path ran from the dock along the base of the cliffs until it opened up into the parking lot of a busy taverna. The fragrance of oregano and garlic wafted on the sea air and wailing music blasted from speakers on the patio. Calvin went inside and asked the owner to call a taxi. He and Chad waited out on the patio and ordered a couple of beers.

Calvin silently pondered his options. First order of Priority was to get the hell off Oia.

“I’m leaving the island,” Calvin said. “I’d suggest you do the same.”

“I want to talk to Hawkins. And he needs to talk to me.”

“Talk to him about what?”

“About everything. You guys don’t have a clue what kind of crap you’re dealing with. Tell him I’m the guy who saved his ass twice on Crete.”

Calvin gave Chad a suspicious look. “Okay. I’ll call Hawkins and see what he says.”

He got up and walked away from the restaurant until he could hear above the music. He reached Hawkins in his hotel room and told him Kalliste had been kidnapped.

“Tell me what happened,” Hawkins said.

“Salazar’s men got her when she went to the neighbor’s house. They came for me, but I got out the back door. I managed to save the device and the scroll.”

“That’s good news. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Few bumps and scrapes after running along the rim of the caldera.”

“You were lucky to get away.”

“Not all luck. I had help. Same guy who came to your rescue on Crete.”

“You can’t be talking about a British tourist named Pouty.”

“That’s the phony name he was using then, but he’s actually American as apple pie. His real name is Chad Williams.”

“Sounds familiar.”

“It should. He’s the guy who bought the Spike missiles.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. Crazy, huh?”

“It’s insane. Why would he help me and give you a hand?”

“You can ask him yourself. He says he knows what’s going on with Salazar and wants to talk to you.”

“Where is he now?”

“Sitting at a table having a beer.”

“Tell him I’ll talk to him. He could be the only lead we have to Kalliste. I’ll send a plane to bring you back to Spain. Call me from the airport after you land.”

“He could be angling to take another shot at you. Like they say in the bayou, you don’t invite a water moccasin into your house.”

“I’ll have to take that risk. Kalliste’s life may depend on what this snake has to say, Calvin. But don’t take any chances. Make sure he’s defanged.”

Calvin clicked off and went back to the table. “Hawkins says he’ll talk to you. You’re going to have to do something about the way you look, though. I think Hawk will be spooked to see a copy of himself.”

Chad drained his glass and removed the make-up kit from his bag. “Don’t worry. I’ll put on my best face.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Abby had just begun to doze off when she heard the soft knock. She got out of bed, and after a quick look through the peephole, opened her hotel room door and greeted Hawkins with a warm smile.

“What a nice surprise! I thought I had wasted my time with all the eye flutters and knee bumps at dinner. Come to bed while the sheets are still warm.”

“The sheets may have to get cold for now, Abby. Calvin called a few minutes ago with bad news. Kalliste’s been kidnapped.”

The smile faded. “Come in.”

Hawkins stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. “Salazar and his men grabbed her outside of her house. They tried for Calvin, but he got away with the translating device and the scroll.”

“Thank God Calvin’s not hurt. I feel awful about Kalliste. I know how much she means to you. I’ll do everything I can to get her back safely. How can I help?”

“I need Calvin back here as soon as possible. I told him I’d send a plane to pick him up. The person who helped him escape from Salazar will be coming in with him.”

“That’s not a problem. Who’s the other passenger?”

“His name is Chad Williams. We met him before when he was calling himself Pouty.”

“The mysterious British tourist we met in Crete?”

“Mr. Pouty gets around. He’s the guy who sank Captain Santiago’s boat and sent
Falstaff
to the bottom.”

Abby searched his face for any sign that he was joking. Seeing none, she said, “Are you crazy? That man is a killer.”

“I had the same reaction. But he’s got another agenda that evidently involves coming to my rescue. I want to find out what it is. He says he can help us find Kalliste.”

“I can see your reasoning, Matt, but it could be a trick.”

“Yes it could, Ab. But I have to go with what I’ve got.”

“In that case, you should talk to him. I’ll get a plane to Santorini.”

“There’s something else. I’d like to check out the Salazar castle. Which means I’ll need a helicopter.”

Picking up her phone, she made a number of calls. Minutes later she hung up. “I found a company plane in Frankfurt. I’ve talked to the pilot and he’s on his way to the airport. Plane will be gassed up and ready to go pick up Calvin and company in Santorini. We’ll have them back here by morning. My people are still working on the helicopter.”

“Incredible as usual, Abby.”

“I’m not doing all the work. You’ll have to come up with a safe meeting place. Having a chat with the man who tried to kill you doesn’t seem like something you would do at a café over lunch.”

“I was thinking of a more private setting where we’d be in control. The
Santa Maria
is docked at the harbor and we’re still paying for her lease.”

“Sounds perfect. Do you want me there?”

“Might be simpler if it’s just Calvin and me.”

“Okay. Now tell me why you want to look at the castle.”

“From what we know about the deed Father Francisco translated, the Salazar castle seems to be the key to this mess. I want to see it in the flesh. Just a feeling.”

“I understand. I’ve had a feeling that there might be something we missed when we talked to the captain’s brother. I think I should see him again.”

“Good idea, Abby. Thanks for all you’re doing.”

“No problem. Well, then, I guess we’re done for the night,” Abby said.

There was an awkward moment when no words were spoken. Abby was standing close and he could feel the heat from her body. Hawkins had the mental discipline that was a holdover from his days as a Navy SEAL. But his mind belonged to a healthy male in the presence of a beautiful woman whose nightie failed to hide the curves he knew so well. He glanced over at the bed.

“Maybe not,” Hawkins said. “We’ve got some time before Calvin arrives. I’ve been thinking what a shame it would be to waste those warm sheets.”

Abby raised an eyebrow. “I totally agree.”

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

The next morning after a breakfast of gluten free raisin bread, Molly got into her leathers and straddled her Harley. Leaving Bend, she followed the road through the forests around Mount Hood. She rolled into Portland late in the morning and pulled up in front of the Dragonfly coffee shop on Thurman Street.

A few blonde wood tables were occupied. A man and woman sat at one to the rear of the shop. When she stepped inside they waved her over. She walked past a man in a Red Sox baseball hat who was bent over his laptop.

“I’m Molly Sutherland,” she said. “I think you’re waiting for me.”

With his long, graying, brown hair tied in a pigtail, and a neatly trimmed beard, the man at the table looked like an aging hippie. He maintained a grim expression on his gaunt face, told her to take a seat and introduced himself as Jared Spaulding. The woman in the business suit identified herself as Attorney Alberta Mullins. Her manner was crisp rather than cold, Molly thought, but her attempt at a warm smile wouldn’t have melted an icicle.

“Thank you for coming all this way, Ms. Sutherland. After your call, I ran your name and telephone number through a private investigator. He said you were retired Army. Is that correct?”

“Yes, ma’am. That’s correct.”

“What do you do now?” she said.

“I’m on an Army pension but I work as a bird photographer and trainer at the High Desert Museum in Bend. You can call them if you want.”

“Thanks. I’ll do that.” She jotted down the information in a small notebook. “Would you tell us again why you’re interested in Auroch Industries and Viktor Salazar?”

Molly was ready for the question. “Like I said, my Uncle Gowdy died in a coal mine explosion. While I was working on a family history project, I found out that the mine was owned by Auroch. I started poking around and learned that they were never called into account for safety violations. Mr. Salazar is the boss, so I thought maybe he might do the right thing and apologize, even though it was years ago.”

Spaulding let out a barking laugh. “Good luck with that.”

“I see what you’re saying,” Molly said. “Big company like that wouldn’t pay any attention to me.”

“Uh-uh,” he said. “They would pay a
lot
of attention, and that’s the problem.”

Molly furrowed her brow. “Not sure I understand.”

Attorney Mullins reached into the briefcase by her side, pulled out a folder and opened it on the table. She extracted half a dozen photographs and spread them out. Taken from different angles, at ground level and from the air, the photos showed a village, or what was left of it. Most of the corrugated metal shacks had disappeared into a sinkhole.