Treasured Lies (34 page)

Archer reached
Evangeline
and, not bothering with the back gate, he jumped over the railing, crossed the lower deck and raced up the back stairs. He stopped at the keypad and tried to ignore his trembling fingers as he punched in his access code. But to his horror the alarm wasn't set. He had deliberately double-checked it before they left. That meant only one thing. Iggy somehow managed to deactivate it.

Whomp. Whomp. Whomp.

He yanked the sliding glass door open, sprinted past the lower bedrooms to the internal staircase. There was no point checking the downstairs hold. Even in his current state of distress he accepted that the Calimala treasure would be gone. His clenched teeth hurt as he allowed this despicable reality to drive his anger.

His knee screamed in pain. But he didn't stop. He climbed the spiral stairs to the main deck two at a time, gripping the railing to increase momentum. At the top he dashed through the saloon, dining room, galley and up the stairs to the upper deck. Another fleeting thought bolted across his brain. How the hell did Iggy know where they were and that the yacht would be unoccupied for so long? Could it be Ginger? They barely knew her. No, he refused to believe it. The answer hit him like a wrecking ball. Iggy knew their moves. That's what the thugs had done. They'd planted a bug. Jimmy was right that the attack didn't make any sense. It made perfect sense now though.

Whomp. Whomp. Whomp. The chopper was jet-propeller loud and Archer hoped he had more than thirty seconds before it took off. Because if he didn't, he was set to miss it. A sudden brainwave had him dashing to the padded leather cushions. He snatched the cushion off, tossed it aside, reached in and blindly fumbled around until his fingers found what he was looking for. The gun.

He'd never fired a gun before but the thought of using it on Ignatius Montpellier felt so fucking good.

Whomp. Whomp. Whomp. Whomp. The sound changed slightly and Archer's heart was a thundering mess in his chest as he pictured it taking off. He dashed to the last set of stairs and as he looked up at the spinning rotors his fear was realised. The blades were at full speed, spinning so fast he couldn't even see them.

He scaled the stairs two at a time. The wind, the sound, the crazy situation, it all hit him like a chemical explosion. Without any thought to what he was doing, he aimed the gun at the cockpit and pulled the trigger. Click. Nothing happened.

He searched the gun, desperate to find the safety clip he figured must be on. To his horror, the helicopter skids lifted ever so slightly. But just as quickly they dropped back down.

‘No!' Archer cursed.

He found the safety. Clicked it off, aimed at the glass dome and fired.

A bright spark burst from the glass as the bullet ricocheted off it. All of a sudden the darkened cockpit lit up, and Archer saw his nemesis. Ignatius Montpellier. The bastard stared at him for a brief moment, then an evil grin split his lips. Seconds later the cocky son of a bitch was laughing.

It was only then that Archer realised the damn glass was bulletproof. The gun was useless. Archer watched in horror as Ignatius waved at him and then pushed the gear stick forward.

The skids lifted this time and the speed with which they did, he knew there was no stopping it now. He clamped his jaw until it hurt and watched on helpless as the helicopter gained airspace.

‘No!' Archer screamed, then before he knew what he was doing, he put the gun between his teeth, ran at the chopper and dived. He had one shot at this and it had better work. Archer caught the landing rail and the chopper dipped with his weight. Archer wrapped his elbow around the rail and desperate for more purchase, swung his legs in a frenzied attempt to hook one of them over the landing skid too. With one hefty haul, he managed to get his left leg over and secure himself better. As he dangled there with his arm and one leg, he looked downward. What he saw terrified him.

It wasn't that he was about two metres off the helicopter pad. It wasn't that he had no fucking idea what he was doing. It was Rosalina, on her knees, looking up at him with wide fearful eyes. But damned if he was about to let Ignatius get away with his treasure. If he had to hang on like this until Iggy touched down again then he bloody well would.

His tongue tasted the metal of the gun and he reached for it with his free hand. An idea flashed into his head and before he wrestled the pros and cons, he decided it was worth a shot … or two.

He aimed the gun at the spinning rotors, intensified his grip on the skids, closed his eyes and pulled the trigger. The gun kicked in his hand and he heard the thunder of release, but nothing happened.

He missed.

‘Shit.'

This time he kept his eyes open, he aimed and fired again. Nothing. He knew his direction was right but couldn't believe the bullet had gone right through the blades. Archer had no idea how many bullets were in the gun. He prayed he had one or two shots left. He aimed again but then he remembered the tail rotor and in a snap decision changed his aim to it instead. He squeezed the trigger.

From that moment on everything went to hell.

The chopper bucked, spun and literally fell from the sky. Fast. Archer gripped on for his life as the world whizzed past at frightening speed. The gun flung from his hand and he reached for the rail as his free leg threated to pull him off with the drag of momentum. He saw the ocean,
Evangeline
, the ocean.

The chopper was set to crash and in that instant Archer knew he was going to die.

Archer was in a vortex. Literally being sucked off the skids as it spun around so fast his brain hurt.

He was slipping. He clawed at the skids, scraping his fingernails over the metal. He squeezed his leg muscles desperate to stay in place. But he flung free, and flew through the air like rubbish in a tornado. Before he had any chance of regaining his bearings, his back hit the water. His breath slammed out of him and as he drifted below the surface he watched in horror as the helicopter crashed into
Evangeline
and exploded into a huge fireball.

His chest squeezed with the agony of broken bones, and as he gulped huge mouthfuls of dirty salty water, he cried out for Rosalina.

Chapter 34

Nox didn't miss the irony in Ophelia asking him to make rice for dinner. His specialty back in Italy, in the kitchen deep in the bowels of the church, was mushroom risotto. The last time he'd cooked it was special. His perfectly cooked rice, laced with mushrooms and lashings of his special mushroom powder, had ensured a quick end to Father Benedici's life. The man who had practically raised him suffered a horrendous and painful death. Nox had given him plenty of opportunities to see his way of thinking. But, in the end, Nox was certain Father Benedici had been expecting his demise.

As Nox stirred the big pot of rice with a wooden spoon he watched the boys set the table. They had obviously done this many times over and knew exactly where everything went. Dinnertime in this house was a family affair with lots of food and conversation, most of which he had no comprehension of at all. It was his favourite time of the day. But it made him realise he'd missed a significant part of normal human behaviour growing up, and it only made him hate Father Benedici even more.

Ophelia chopped the chicken and vegetables with a heavy knife then she tossed them into a saucepan equally as large as Nox's pot. She grabbed his hand and her touch alone sent sparks through his body. Still holding the wooden spoon, she moved his hand to her pot and motioned for him to stir it too. He did as he was told, alternating his stirring from one pot to the next, but with every opportunity he watched her. The woman was a colossal bundle of homely bliss, and it wasn't just her size that made him think about her that way. She fussed about the food and the kitchen, cleaning with equal measure, and at every available moment she'd wrap her arms around both boys, hugging them to her ample bosom and kissing the tops of their heads before she let them go.

With each ingredient she tossed into the chicken pot she grabbed his hand and stirred. It became a little game in which he deliberately went too slow so she would grab his hand and guide it around the pot with vigorous stirring. The aromas that quickly emanated from the cooking were as delicious as her frequent touches, and once again Nox reflected on his good fortune. He couldn't remember a time when he'd ever been so … happy.

Sure there had been glimpses of happiness, like eating a stolen chocolate, or smoothing down the fur of his beloved cat Shadow, or seeing his plans for revenge come to fruition. But never had his happiness transcended over days, let alone weeks. He considered fate had dealt him yet another hand and he had always been destined to meet Ophelia and her two rambunctious boys. This scenario, with a family that loved and cared for each other, was new to him. But after what he'd seen so far, he knew it was something he wanted in his life permanently.

Ophelia placed four plates before him and with her usual flamboyant hand movements she indicated that he spoon on rice and then top that with the chicken dish. He did as he was told and as each plate was filled, the boys took turns ferrying the plates from him to the table.

Once all the plates were placed they each took their designated seats at the table and put their hands together for grace. It was Arion's turn and as the little boy spoke in Greek, Nox said grace in Italian. He couldn't remember the last time he'd said grace, but, for probably the first time in his life, he really was grateful for something.

As it promised to be, dinner was delicious and Nox cleaned his plate with a slice of Ophelia's homemade cornbread slathered in butter. Together they placed all the dishes into the sink and he knew Ophelia would clean them later, after the boys had gone to bed.

They moved to the lounge room and Ophelia switched on the television and assumed her position in her favourite chair. Nox took his place in a chair to her side, that way he could balance his gaze between her and the television. The two boys played with little cars on a rug at their feet that was decorated with roads and houses.

Ophelia pressed the buttons on the remote until she found the news channel she watched every night. The screen flashed to a fiery explosion and Nox's heart jumped to his throat as he did a double take at the television. The enormous yacht in the foreground was
Evangeline
, he had no doubt about it. He'd followed that boat around the Greek Islands long enough to have practically memorised every aspect of its sleek lines. A reporter came on and her lip movements didn't match what she was saying. It took Nox a little while to work out that whatever language she was speaking had been dubbed over in Greek. That meant the report wasn't coming from the Greek Islands.

The screen skipped back to grainy footage, like it had been taken on a mobile phone or similar device. It gradually cleared as the picture zoomed in. Nox saw a helicopter now, hovering a couple of metres above
Evangeline
. He launched forward on his chair as the footage focused on a person dangling beneath the helicopter's landing gear.

‘Is that Archer?' He stared open-mouthed at the screen.

The helicopter suddenly began to spin out of control, flicking around like a popped balloon. Nox watched the man beneath it hanging on with just an arm and one leg and he gasped when the body flung off. Barely a second later, the chopper crashed into the yacht in an enormous explosion. The fireball engulfed the entire back of the yacht as the helicopter broke up on impact. The tail sheared off and fell onto the lower level of the yacht. Through the smoke and flames he saw the blades spinning, until suddenly they both snapped off and flung in different directions, hitting the water with sizable splashes. Flaming helicopter pieces rained down into the black marina water.

‘Holy hell.' Nox leant further forward on his chair.

The dark-haired reporter was back on the screen. She was talking into a microphone and in the background was
Evangeline
. Black smoke billowed from the top and firefighters were pouring a steady stream of water from their small boats at the side of the yacht up onto the top of the helicopter remains. The camera panned around the marina and Nox spied several signs he could read, convincing him the yacht was in Italy. Did this mean they'd left Greece because they'd found all the treasure? He bet they had, he couldn't imagine Archer leaving the dive site until all the pieces were recovered.

A photograph of Archer's smiling face flashed onto the screen. It was exactly as Nox remembered him. Wavy hair, dark eyes, olive skin and an air of cockiness about him that said I am invincible. The photo couldn't be any older than a year or so. Was he dead? Nox weighed up the positives and the negatives of that being the case. Dead was what he wanted. But not yet. He still needed to use Archer to help him find the rest of the Calimala treasure. Nox had learnt from the scroll that the treasure had been divided into thirds many centuries ago. He thought he was the only person in the world who could possibly know that. But Archer and his crew may have worked it out somehow. It already surprised him how much they'd accomplished. Obviously they knew what they were doing. Which is exactly why Nox needed Archer alive. For now.

He'd been dreaming of the Calimala treasure for decades. Its vastness, as described in the scroll in his bedroom wall, was enough to fill three ships. That being the case, it was impossible Archer had found it all in such a short amount of time. The question now was whether or not the treasure was still on board
Evangeline
? Nox scanned the background, looking for any sign displaying the name of the marina. And there it was, a big blue sign displaying Marina Di San Vincenzo Livorno. He was right. They were back in Italy. It occurred to him that this accident could have something to do with the valuables. Was someone trying to steal it? He balled his fists at the thought.

The reporter was back on the screen, her excitement showing in her rapid words and hand movements. Nox stared in disbelief when the screen flashed to a picture of himself. A bald, pudgy picture of him, but by the gasp from Ophelia, a still very recognisable picture. In the photo he wasn't looking at the camera and with his clenched jaw and wide eyes, even he had to admit he looked evil. He couldn't figure out where the photo had been taken. There weren't too many happy moments in his life that involved capturing the occasion. The camera gradually panned back from the photo and when Nox saw the plaid shirt he was wearing he figured it out. It was taken in the office where he hired the boat in Athens to chase Archer around the Greek Islands. They must have had security camera footage of him.