The Pandora Chronicles - Book 1 (A Scifi Adventure Thriller) (12 page)

“Templar knights,” Nick gasped in awe.

“Yes. It took a small fortune to get the full thing,” Astrid said. “The rest of the stuff here includes authentic Conquistadores uniforms and equipment.”
 

Nick walked along the exhibitions, observing everything from Aztec masks to African shamanic scepters, a samurai-era
daito,
and a Chinese fan with more age than the entire United States. He flitted from one item to another, like an excited boy in a toy store.

“And this, Professor Solomon, is my most prized exhibition.”
 

Astrid was patting a glass case standing at the very back of the room in a corner all by itself. Its contents were sparse compared to the rest of the displays. There was an entire row of coins like the one Astrid had brought to Nick’s class. A faded, yellowed map lay flat, and Nick noticed it was largely incorrect, but had interesting markings on certain locations. Then, there were stacks of parchment, all showing the same story—gods bearing gifts to man. Finally, there was a broken sextant and a Conquistador’s helmet.

“They were taken from Columbus’s first voyage. That was also when the Order had become established,” Astrid said as he gazed into the case.

“The pictures you showed me,” Nick said. “Where were they taken from?”

Astrid sighed and motioned for Nick to follow him. They exited the room, and Astrid locked it up again.

“The Order had a series of ledgers, usually bound in red leather, in which it kept all of its case files, so to speak,” the Spaniard explained. “Those images were from one such ledger. It is not in my possession, unfortunately. It is not even in the country.”

They walked all the way outside, onto a veranda, and were greeted with a beautiful panorama which ended in the stark blue of the ocean. Nick could just make out the faint outline of land on the horizon, like a solid cloud of mist.

“Do you know what you are looking at, Professor?” Astrid asked.

Nick made some quick calculations. “The Straits of Gibraltar,” he replied, impressed by the view.

Astrid nodded. “Yes. They are also known as the Pillars of Hercules. The legend goes that one of the labors of Hercules took him to the very edge of the Mediterranean, and he split a mountain in half in order to gain passage.”

He paused for a moment.

“This is just a myth, of course,” Astrid continued, “but it serves of inspiration to me. If a man could split a mountain in two with his bare hands, in order to achieve his goal, then no challenge is truly impossible.” His cold, grey eyes fell on Solomon. “I want El Dorado, Professor Solomon. I want to do what my ancestors, and an entire secret society, could not. And I always get what I want.”

Chapter 17

Nick and Astrid locked eyes, each searching for weaknesses in the other.
 

“Is that a threat, Mr. Astrid?” Nick Solomon’s voice was as cold as Astrid’s eyes. He felt his heart pounding heavily in his chest, suddenly very much aware of the crazy rich guy standing a few feet in front of him.
 

Finally Astrid let out a laugh, breaking the tension.
 

“Of course not, Professor. That is just my philosophy. Please,” he said, inviting the archaeologist to sit around a small coffee table under an umbrella, while a very pretty girl brought over a tray with two long island ice teas.
 

Nick sat down and sipped the cool drink. He forced himself to clam down, and stick to the plan.
 

“Here’s a list of possible locations of where El Dorado could be,” he said, handing his tablet over to Astrid. “I have managed to narrow it down to three places. It’s the most I can do without any actual clues or historical documents.”

Astrid glossed over the information and whistled. “Truly impressive, Professor Solomon. You have arrived to some very viable conclusions without any help or real clues. I truly commend your skills.”

Nick nodded and watched as Astrid tapped the device and emailed the information to himself.
 

“Professor Solomon,” Astrid said, as he handed the tablet back to Nick. “What if I were to…shall we say,
acquire
the red ledger-”

“Let me stop you right there, Mr. Astrid,” Nick interrupted. “I have no idea what your true business is here, and I don’t care. But I am smart enough to know that when you say ‘acquire’ you mean, ‘get at any cost.’ I only came here to point you in the right direction, and that’s only cos my government blackmailed me into doing so.”

Astrid’s eyebrows shot up. “Did they now?”

“Yeah,” Nick replied. “Apparently they like keeping tabs on secret societies as well.”

Astrid burst out laughing. “Your government is extremely talented at wasting its own time and resources. But I am not worried—they are powerless here.”

Nick shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Either way, I held up my end of the bargain to the both of you.” He stood up. “I wish you luck with whatever you do with that info.”

“Professor Solomon,” Astrid called after him. “I was hoping that you would join me on my expedition.”

“I told you already,” Nick replied. “El Dorado does not exist. My job was to help you out, not hunt down fictional cities.”

“And yet, here you are, delivering me actual results,” Astrid said. He held up his hand, anticipating Nick’s response. “I intend to start my expedition soon. I will call upon you once I finish preparations.”

“You’re gonna be disappointed,” Nick replied.

Astrid smiled sinisterly. “We shall see, won’t we, Mr. Solomon?”

“Yeah, we shall,” Nick replied. He mirrored the Spaniard’s malicious frown. “And it’s Professor Solomon.”

***

The evening air felt cool on Nick’s face.
 

Astrid insisted that he stay for lunch before finally letting him leave, and afterwards, the driver dropped him off in a town nearby. Nick had just enough money for a cab ride to the airport and maybe a cheap dinner later that day, until his flight back home.

Nick sighed in relief as soon as he stepped off of Astrid’s property. All he had to worry about now was how he was going to occupy himself during the long flight ahead. Sleep sounded like a good option.
 

He really didn’t mind the long journey, so long as he didn’t spend another day in Spain. The quicker he got from Astrid and the rest of this insanity, the better.

Once the sun had set, and he checked out of the motel he was staying in, Nick hailed a cab and gave the driver directions.

“Good evening.” Her voice nearly sent him into cardiac arrest. Sitting next to him was a slender woman dressed in all black, with matching dark hair, perfectly camouflaged by the evening darkness and interior shadows of the cab.

“What the hell?” he yelped.

“Oh, I hope you don’t mind,” she gently replied, with a faint british accent. “I, too, am headed for the airport. I guess we both hailed the same taxi at the same time.”

“Uh huh.” To Nick’s mind this was starting to sound like something out of a cheesy romantic comedy.

“I really hope you don’t mind,” she insisted. “I’ll be more than happy to split the fare. But I really can’t miss my flight.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” he replied.
 

For some reason, warning signals going off in Nick’s head, but he ignored them. She seemed harmless enough—besides, there were worse people to share a cab with other than a hot businesswoman.

She smiled, and for a second, his mind went numb.

Her hand was a blur and Nick felt something cold and thin sink into his thigh. He found himself looking right into her eyes, partially stunned by the sudden turn of events. He remained ensorcelled by the emptiness in her icy blue eyes, a void expression that comes after years of training and cold, hard execution of orders.

In that split second, his own training kicked in. He stopped seeing her as a woman, but as a faceless being set out to hurt him. And there was absolutely nothing stopping him from retaliation.

His fist whipped into her face and he felt her block his punch. She twisted her wrist and sent him face first into the empty passenger seat in front of him. Her other hand snaked up to his thigh and pressed the injector on the syringe stuck there.

Nick’s mind went into overdrive, and time seemed to slow down. He knew already that the woman was trained to fight, almost certainly having a level of skill far exceeding his own. It was unlikely that he could overpower her. The drug was numbing his leg and spreading its contents across his bloodstream like a river—Nick guessed it was a tranquilizer or a barbiturate of sorts. The syringe was small, meaning that the dosage was minimal: killing him wasn’t her agenda. Nick glanced down to look at the injector. It wasn’t something that was commercially available, which meant it was likely military issue.
 

Nick looked at the rear-view mirror hoping to catch a reflection of the driver. The man behind the wheel wore the same empty expression the woman had. He deduced that this was a planned operation, a deliberate plan to kidnap him.
 

The only question left was which side they were on.

“Who are you?” he mumbled as the drug took effect and the world began to spin.

Before he fell unconscious, the woman spoke up. “Your new best friends, Professor.”

Chapter 18

Nick Solomon woke up when a rush of cold water hit his face. His head snapped backwards in shock, and he sucked in a deep breath. The chair’s hard back bit into his spine, and he jerked forwards. Sensations rushed into him like a freight train.

A halogen lamp was aimed at his face, blinding him.

His eyes hurt, and his ears rang. Nick felt something hard press against his knees and realized he was sitting down behind a desk. A wave of nausea hit him. The dampness around his face and neck wasn’t helping. He reached up to wipe his face, but handcuffs restrained his movements.

A plastic cup was pressed into his palm.

“Drink up. It’ll counter the effects of the drug.” The phantom voice came from behind the painfully bright light.
 

Nick’s mouth was too dry for a response and he just drank. The cool liquid worked its magic, and he could breathe without his throat burning.

“Welcome back, Professor Solomon.”

Even in his state, Nick recognized the voice. “Director Stan,” he rasped.

“It’s Director Briggs,” the man said.

Nick’s head spun. “Did you guys date rape me or something?”

“Nothing so drastic. I simply thought it was time for us to meet face to face.”

“Ever heard of Skype?”

“Try to calm down, Professor,” Briggs coolly said. “There’s no reason for this to become unpleasant.”

“So the abduction was the pleasant part?”

“By our standards, yes.”

“That’s it. I’m not voting anymore.”

“It wouldn’t make a difference,” Briggs replied with an unsettling grin. “We have been around since Bush.”

“That explains so much.”

“Bush Senior.”

“Oh.” Nick craned his neck, trying to better figure out where he was. Best he could tell, it was some sort of interrogation room—grey walls with no decoration, save the bright lamp in his face.

“So, what do you want?” he asked.

“For you to help us,” Briggs replied. “And by that I mean, take Astrid’s case, retrieve the red journal, and then help my agency secure the artifacts.”

“Oh, for God’s sake.” The chains around his wrists rattled furiously as Nick snapped at Briggs. “There is no artifact. There is no Order. There is no magic power source. It’s all the screwed up belief of a bunch of religious nut-jobs and the idiots who believed them.”

Briggs sighed and sat back. There was a click as he switched off the lamp and the ceiling lights went up, illuminating the room.

The director was dressed in a dark suit. His black, calloused skin and thick lips gave him a truly feral look. In contrast, his small, beady, intelligent eyes were focused on the young archaeologist before him.

“We know all about your past, Professor Solomon,” Briggs said.

“Congratulations. You can read
National Geographic
.”

“Your childhood, Solomon,” Briggs continued. “We know how you were raised.”

Nick’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, that was one secret facility that did not serve its purpose.”

“Oh, but it did serve its purpose,” Briggs said slyly. “It was a mine of information. Most of our agency is, in fact, based on that facility’s principals.”

“You’re telling me that you guys are an off-shoot of those whack jobs?” Nick asked incredulously.

“In a way, yes.”

“Then, I really have nothing else to say to you guys.” Nick sat back and tried to cross his arms, despite the handcuffs.

“We know the Order is real, Solomon,” Briggs said. “I’m not happy about it, but it
does
exists.” He leaned forward, peering into Nick’s eyes. “What do you really know about your childhood home?”

Nick stared at him defiantly, silent as the walls around him.