Atlantis, page 5
part #6 of Dane Maddock Series
“We’ll see how he handles questioning.” Dane once again engaged the external audio and spoke into his mic. “Nod your head if you can hear me.” The man nodded. “Good. What’s your name?” The man frowned and pressed his lips together. “Let’s try this again,” Dane said. He spun the cutting blade and lowered it an inch for emphasis. “Give me your name or this is about to get painful for you.” He wasn’t about to slice this fellow apart, but hopefully, his bluff was convincing.
The man’s face twisted in anger then sagged. “Abel.” He looked like he was going to be sick.
“See how easy that was? Now, tell my why you were shooting at my friends.”
Abel took a deep breath and narrowed his eyes. For a moment, he looked as if he might refuse to answer. “The Cleansing.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Bones asked.
Abel’s eyes bugged out and he gaped, but it wasn’t the sound of Bones’ voice that elicited the reaction. A diver rose from the water, inches from him. With a single, swift movement, he sliced Abel’s throat, and sank back into the water.
Dane released Abel’s body and tried to snatch the diver using the mechanical hand, but the man moved too fast. Dane took Remora down while Bones engaged the sonar and began pinging the area all around them, but the diver was gone.
“We’re not going to find him,” Dane said. “Too much silt and debris in the water for visual or sonar, and he’s not a large target. Besides, he could swim through any of these submerged buildings and get away.”
“What just happened?”
“Not a clue,” Dane said. It was the truth. Try as he might, he could not construct a scenario in which the murder they’d just witness made any kind of sense. “Let’s pick Willis up and then find Matt and Tam. Maybe they can help us figure it out.”
Chapter 7
Sofia rolled the mechanical pencil back and forth between her teeth, her index finger tracing an invisible line under the row of symbols. She cursed, dropped the stack of papers onto her lap, and fell back onto the pillow. She needed sleep, but she couldn’t turn her brain off. Since her arrival in Huertas, a barrio of Madrid, she and Arnau had made progress deciphering the codex. As she had suspected, the codex bore a strong similarity to Egyptian hieroglyphs, but too many of the symbols still eluded them.
She moved to the window and gazed down at the street below. Streetlights shone on a young couple enjoying the night life, and a few stray singles who cast envious glances at the two lovers. Under different circumstances, she’d be down there among them, drinking in the local culture and perhaps enjoying tapas and cerveza at Magister or Viva Madrid. Right now, though, she couldn’t bring herself to put the codex aside.
“Five more minutes, and then lights out,” she told herself. She sank down on the lumpy bed in Arnau’s guest room and returned to her stack of papers. Wanting to protect the ancient codex, she and Arnau were working from blown-up images of the artifact. She had abandoned her plan to send copies to colleagues skilled in ancient languages because she could think of no one whom she could completely trust. Some would turn her in to the authorities for stealing the codex. Others would seek to discredit her find, while still others would try to translate it on their own and steal the credit for themselves.
And then there was Arnau. She was not entirely comfortable working with him. His dealings with her, as far as she knew, had always been honest, but the fact he’d been caught trading in stolen antiquities strained his credibility. Then again, considering her present circumstances, who was she to judge?
She decided to begin by re-reading what she’d translated so far. It was not a literal translation. The symbols conveyed meaning, but could not be directly transcribed into complete sentences, so she and Arnau had fleshed things out, using a combination of educated guesses, wild speculation, and atrial and error. In the places where they were least confident about the translation, they’d inserted their best guess in brackets.
The words of Paisden, priest of [Atlantis?] We are betrayed by our [Fatherland? Motherland?] Our crystals have been taken and our [machines?] [fail?] My [servant?] leads our people to [safety?] but I remain [steadfast? Dedicated?] The deluge shall soon [unknown] I believe we are the last [remnant]…
The rest remained untranslated, save for a few words, including an intriguing reference to temples. She gained no new insights, and put the papers down even before her allotted five minutes was up. Weariness weighed heavy on her and her eyelids drooped. Tomorrow, she’d look at the codex through fresh eyes.
“Let’s see if the Marlins have made any more stupid trades.” She took out her phone, opened the web browser, and punched in the Miami Herald’s website. She gasped when she saw the headline.
Killer Tsunami Strikes Key West
She read on, concern turning to disbelief as she read the report. A freak wave had struck Key West without warning, causing death and devastation to a small section of the island. The tsunami was odd, not only because it seemed to come out of nowhere, but because its size and behavior were so far out of the norm. It had come from the direction of the mainland and was reported to be a concentrated wall of water rather than a typical, broad wave. Strangest of all, scientists could determine no cause for it. Seismic detectors all around the Gulf of Mexico and in the Atlantic detected no activity whatsoever. The sole clue was a brief burst of energy, emitted by an unknown source, minutes before the wave struck.
Sofia leaned back and considered this terrible news. It wasn’t just the tragedy that impacted her, but the similarity to the wave that had swamped her dig site. In both cases, a wall of water appeared out of nowhere, with no obvious cause, and behaved in a way no known tsunami ever had. The articles she’d read hadn’t mentioned a surge of energy preceding the event in Spain, but that didn’t mean it didn’t happen.
Something in the back of her mind nudged at her thoughts. What was it? The codex mentioned machines, and a deluge to come. The machine in the temple! What if… No, the very idea was absurd. Of course, belief in Atlantis seemed absurd until she’d unearthed the city.
“Oh my God. I have to tell somebody.” But who? Could she really go to the American embassy with this story? They’d think her a lunatic. But she couldn’t just let this drop. She was certain she was onto something.
A loud knock startled her. Someone was at the apartment door. She heard Arnau moving through the front room. He opened the door and whispered something unintelligible.
“Why the need to be so quiet?” a deep voice said. “We are alone, no?”
“I don’t want the neighbors to hear us.”
“Always overcautious,” said a second voice. “Perhaps it is for the best. There is no harm in taking a few precautions. Now, where is it?”
“Just a minute. It’s in my safe.”
Sofia’s heart lurched. Damn Arnau! He thought to sell the codex. She gripped the doorknob, ready to storm in and confront him, but then she paused. Some of the people who bought stolen artifacts were little more than wealthy eccentrics or gluttons who wanted to own a piece of history. Others, however, were dangerous. What sort were the men outside? Indecision rooted her to the spot.
“Here. Give me the money and go.” Arnau’s voice trembled. “I want this out of my house.”
“Let us see what we have here. Ah, very nice. You say this came from Atlantis?” The man’s tone expressed his obvious skepticism.
“That’s what I was told. I’ve studied it enough to be satisfied that it’s a genuine artifact. ”
“You’ve studied it.” The voice sounded flat.
“Yes, but only to authenticate it. Nothing thorough.” Arnau spoke quickly. “I don’t know what it says.”
“From whom did you acquire this piece?”
“You know I can’t reveal my sources.”
A dull pop made Sofia jump. On the other side of the door, she heard a thump and Arnau’s cry of pain.
“It is not a fatal wound, but the next one will be unless you tell me the truth. I ask again, from whom did you acquire the codex?”
Sofia’s stomach heaved. She had a feeling the fatal wound was inevitable, regardless of what Arnau told the men.
“I only know his first name,” Arnau groaned. “It’s Abed. He lives in Cairo.”
Another muffled pop and another cry of pain. That must be what a silenced weapon sounds liked.
“I’ve given you a measure of grace, Arnau. You’ll lose your leg, but you might live if you receive medical attention soon.” The speaker lowered his voice to a husky whisper. “You got this from Sofia Perez, didn’t you?” Arnau’s silence was all the answer the man needed. “Very well.”
Sofia didn’t need to hear any more. She was halfway out the window, her few belongings stuffed inside her shirt, when the next gunshot sounded. She clambered down the fire escape, dropped the last ten feet and rolled her ankle when she landed hard on the pavement. Fear gave her strength and she hobbled down the street at a half-run. The hour was late, but the hotel district wasn’t far, and there were always taxis about.
By the time she flagged down a cab, she was soaked with sweat and her white tank top wasn’t quite opaque any more. If the driver thought it odd to pick up a young woman in her nightclothes, he gave no indication, though he didn’t bother to hide the way he undressed her with his eyes. He sat up straight, though, when she told him her destination.
“United States Embassy. I’ll double your fare if you get me there fast.”
Tires screeched and horns blared as the cabbie stepped on the gas and pulled the cab out into traffic. Sofia watched the lights and the people flash past and wondered if anyone would believe her story.
Chapter 8
“I expected something fancier from a government agency.” Bones scowled at the faded carpet and plain, white walls as they moved along a narrow hallway at the back of the Truman Little White House. The famed building had suffered a great deal of water damage, but this section must have been waterproofed. The carpet was dry and the sheetrock walls unblemished.
“After all those years in the military, you still think government splurges on people like us?” Dane shook his head and chuckled. “Come on.”
“We’re, like, agents now. James Bond gets all those fancy toys. Why not us?” Bones scratched his chin. “Must be a British thing. You think I could fake a British accent?”
“I’ve heard your accent. Hate to tell you, but it’s not the best.” He ignored Bones’ expression of feigned insult. “Besides, this building was underwater only a few days ago, or have you already forgotten?”
“Sloppy Joe’s and Captain Tony’s got washed out. Trust me; I’ll remember this for a long time.”
“They’ll be back.” Already they’d seen many of the island’s residents pulling together in the wake of the tragedy that had taken so many lives and caused such devastation. It was both sad and heartening to witness.
“Misters Maddock and Bonebrake?” A husky man dressed like a banker, barred their way. Dane didn’t need to see the holster inside his coat to know he was a professional, probably military. His rigid posture and clipped manner of speaking spoke volumes.
“That’s us,” Dane said.
“Very good. Follow me, please.” He led them to a bookcase.
“Thanks, but I’ve switched to e-books.” Bones ran a finger down the spine of a very old copy of Tom Sawyer. The shelves held complete works of Alexandre Dumas and Mark Twain. “Besides, I don’t read anything published before nineteen hundred. Not enough sizzle, if you take my meaning.”
The man grinned and withdrew a battered copy of The Count of Monte Cristo, revealing a small keypad. He entered a code and re-shelved the book as the bookcase swung forward, exposing a blank wall of gleaming metal and a small black screen. “Left thumbs on the scanner, please.”
Bones held his thumb up. “Mine’s been up my butt half the day. Is that going to be a problem?”
The corners of the man’s mouth twitched. “Not for me. I never touch that scanner.”
Dane and Bones pressed their thumbs to the scanner and, with a hiss, a previously invisible door slid to the side, opening onto an elevator. Inside stood Tam Broderick. She checked her watch and gave them an impatient look.
“Late for the first team meeting. Not the way to impress me.”
Bones yawned and stretched. “Whatever gave you the idea that I care about impressing anybody? Besides, we’re five minutes early.”
“Five minutes early is ten minutes late to me. Now get in here and let’s get to work.”
“All I see is a down button,” Dane said as he stepped inside and the elevator began its descent. “Should I have brought my dive gear?”
“Sweetie, this place has been here longer than you’ve been alive, and we know how to waterproof when we want to.”
“I can’t believe there’s been a secret installation here all this time,” Bones said. “Seems like a conspicuous place to hide spook central.
“Sure has. The government built it during World War II and kept it going all through the Cold War. It got shut down for a few years, but reopened it again right after the start of the War on Terror. They were about to close it again when I requested we be headquartered here. Now it’s all ours.”
The elevator stopped and the door slid back, revealing a welcome area with plush, blue carpet, leather sofas, and an attractive receptionist with shoulder length, black hair and blue eyes, seated behind a mahogany desk. Five doors were evenly spaced along the wall behind her, with no signage to indicate where they led. Fine works of art lined the walls to their left and right.
“Everyone’s in the conference room, Ma’am.”
“Everyone except for these two.” Tam rolled her eyes in Dane and Bones’ direction. “Joey, meet Dane Maddock and Uriah Bonebrake.” Tam smiled sweetly as Bones’ smile flickered. He hated his given name.
“Call me Bones,” he said, taking Joey’s hand in a familiar way. “How about you and I get to know each other while Tam and Maddock go to their meeting?”
“Bones?” Joey frowned, and then realization dawned in her eyes. She stole a quick glance at Tam and then smiled at Bones with what Dane could have sworn was a touch of sympathy. “It’s very nice to meet you and I look forward to working with you.”
“You ain’t getting out of the meeting that easy, Bonebrake. Let’s go.” Tam led them through the door on the far right and down another hallway.
“Did you tell Joey not to talk to me or something?” Bones asked.
“No, I just warned her that, ever since your injury, you try to overcompensate by hitting on every woman you meet, and she should be patient with you but not encourage you.”
“What injury?”
“You got shot in the pelvis and now you can’t do your manly duty. That’s why we call you ‘Bones.’ It’s one of those ironic nicknames.”
Dane smothered a laugh in a rasping cough while Bones’ cheeks turned crimson.
“That was you, wasn’t it?” Tam asked with a straight face. “Or did I confuse you with somebody else? I’m sorry.”
“Not bad,” Bones admitted. “You do realize the next move is mine?”
“I’m counting on it, sweetie. Just don’t forget I’m the boss.”
The door at the end of the hallway opened into a well-lit conference room painted in bright colors and furnished with tropical plants. A giant, high definition screen on the far wall showed rolling surf and palm trees swaying in a gentle breeze. Just above the edge of hearing, the sound of waves crashing onto shore whispered from invisible speakers.
A long, oval table sat in the middle of the room. All the seats were occupied but three. Some of the faces were unfamiliar, but Matt, Willis, and Corey, the rest of Dane’s crew, were there, smirking at Dane and Bones like the two were school kids who’d just come from the principal’s office. A blonde sat with her back to them, but Dane didn’t need to see her face to recognize her.
“Avery?”
At the sound of her name, his sister turned around. He’d expected her to look contrite, if not downright guilty, but instead, she set her jaw and raised her eyebrows.
“Yes?”
“What are you doing here?”
“I work here. You have a problem with that?” The look in her eyes told him it would be a bad idea to answer in the affirmative.
“Man, I love it when she gets all Maddock Junior on him.” Willis laughed and slapped his thigh. “That’s exactly what you look like when you act stubborn,” he said to Dane.
“Come on, now. Maddock isn’t stubborn.” Bones put a protective arm around Dane’s shoulders. “When he knows he’s right, he sticks to his guns. And he’s right all the time.”
Everyone joined in the laughter, even the unfamiliar faces. Dane shrugged Bones’ arm away and turned to his friend. “You knew about this, didn’t you?”
“I told you she was moving down here because she got a new job.”
“You left out one important detail.”
“Not that long ago, you didn’t even know I existed,” Avery said. “This way, we get to spend even more time catching up on all those lost years.”
He couldn’t argue. It had only been a few months since he learned that his father, Hunter Maddock, had a daughter a few years younger than Dane. Avery was the sole blood relative he had left in the world, and the idea of her being a part of their new team, worried, even frightened him a little. Except for Angel, all the people he cared about were now part of this team, and that meant their lives were in peril. He knew they were adults and the responsibility was not his, but he couldn’t like it.
“It doesn’t matter,” Tam said. “I needed to add to our research staff. I like her and, more important, I trust her. She’s one of the few people in the world I can be one hundred percent sure isn’t connected to the Dominion. Are we clear?”
