The Hunt for Atlantis (29 page)

Even through his helmet and the thick stone walls of the temple, Chase heard the low rumble. “Shit!”

“What was that noise?” Kari asked.

“An explosion.”

“Are you sure?”

“Oh yeah,” he said. “Either someone dropped a thousand-pound bomb on the Evenor—or the sub just blew up.” He looked down at his suit. “Which means—oh shit, shit! Cut my coms line, quick!”

“But we’ll be cut off!”

“We’re already cut off! Do it!”

Kari put down the camera and clumsily hurried to him, taking her diver’s knife from her belt. The fiberoptic cable attached to the back of Chase’s suit was sheathed in protective plastic. She grabbed it and sawed away with the knife.

“Come on, come on!” Chase yelled.

“I’m trying!” The line finally sheared in two, a blue pinpoint of light shining from the stub still attached to Chase’s suit. A moment later, the rest of the cable was snatched from her gloved hand. It shot across the chamber before disappearing over the edge of the shaft. “What the hell just happened?”

“If the sub blew up, the ballast would’ve been dropped automatically when it lost power. That means the thing’s on its way to the surface like a fucking rocket—and it would have tried to take me with it.” He turned to face her. “Thanks. Sorry I shouted.”

“No need to apologize, given the circumstances!” She looked at the shaft. “If the sub’s been destroyed, what are we going to do?”

“Get the fuck out of here, for starters.” He moved back over to the shaft. “Hugo? Can you hear me? Hugo? Shit!”

“I’m still getting you on the radio,” said Kari.

“Yeah, but you’re standing five feet away in air, and he’s got to receive it through Christ knows how many feet of stone and water. Hugo!”

Castille grabbed the control stick and pushed his suit’s thrusters to full power, shooting upwards in a spray of bubbles as the submersible swooped down at him. It was close enough for him to see the word Zeus painted on the control sphere and the pilot lying on his belly inside, face magnified and distorted into a leer by the glass bubble.

The manipulator arm swung at him, but he rolled, using his fins to change direction and duck under it. He looked back, but the pilot was keeping hold of the explosive package, determined to deliver it before dealing with him.

There was only one possible target.

The entrance to the temple.

“Edward!” he screamed, knowing there was no chance of being heard. “Get out of there! Get out!”

The sub’s thrusters spewed out bubbles, the whirling propellers reversing to bring the vessel to a stop at the base of the wall. The arm extended, reaching smoothly into the narrow passageway before retracting again.

The gleaming steel claw was now empty.

Castille put his thumb on the thruster control. If he could get in there fast enough, he might be able to pull the explosives clear.

The submersible pilot wasn’t going to give him the chance. The arm rising above its hull like a scorpion’s tail, the vessel swung around again, hunting for him.

Spotlights dazzled him. Another burst of froth from the sub’s propellers, driving it forwards.

Straight for him.

“Very well…” he whispered. He released the control stick, reaching for his equipment belt.

The submersible accelerated, its arm descending and stretching out ahead of it like a lance.

Castille waited, holding still.

And he whipped up his grappling gun and fired it straight at the cockpit bubble.

The pointed steel tip of the grapnel hit the glass—and stopped dead, penetrating barely more than a centimeter before the force of the water sweeping over the submersible tore it free. It clattered away beneath the sub, trailing its cable behind it.

Castille had already dropped the gun and powered up his thrusters again, twisting to climb over to one side of the onrushing sub. The pilot, startled by the impact, couldn’t react quickly enough to catch him with the outstretched arm.

But he was fast enough to pull the sub around in a sweeping turn, ready to pursue.

Castille knew his suit didn’t have the power to outrun the sub. He just hoped he wouldn’t have to.

In the cockpit, the pilot grinned savagely as he saw the bright yellow shell of Castille’s deep suit pinned in his spotlights. He brought the throttle to full power, preparing to ram him, an underwater hit-and-run …

The tiny mark left by the grapnel suddenly grew. And kept growing, crazed tendrils sweeping outwards across the bubble with an awful, tooth-grinding screech of cracking glass. The immense pressure of the ocean bore down against the new flaw in the surface, expanding it—

With a bang as loud as artillery fire, the submersible’s cockpit imploded. Huge shards of three-inch-thick glass hit the pilot at the speed of sound, reducing him to a red haze that bloomed through the churning air bubbles like a huge and gory flower. The sub nose-dived into the seabed, plowing up a huge swath of sand.

Castille turned around. There might still be time for him to reach the explosives …

There wasn’t.

A shockwave burst from the end of the passage. Castille was slammed away by the deafening blast as if hit by a car, tumbling out of control, all vision obliterated by the enormous cloud of silt.

But he didn’t need to see to know that the thunderous vibrations hitting him through the water after the blast were caused by massive stone blocks collapsing into the tunnel, sealing it forever.

Inside the altar chamber, Chase was about to lower Kari into the shaft when a surge of water erupted beneath them, knocking them both onto their backs as it blasted into the chamber like a geyser. Chunks of debris rained down, hammer-blow impacts against their suits.

“Oh my God!” Kari screamed. For the first time since Chase had known her, she was on the verge of panic. “What was that, what happened?”

“Kari. Kari!” He held her arms, trying to calm her. “We’re okay, we’re all right! Let me check your suit.”

They helped each other to their feet, examining the casing of the deep suits. Both had sustained some dents, but nothing that seemed to compromise their integrity. Not, Chase realized, that it mattered.

“What happened?” Kari asked again.

Chase looked at the shaft. “They blew up the passage. We’re sealed in.”

Starkman’s men had forced the passengers and crew of the Evenor to assemble on the helipad. A quick head count told Nina that eight of the crew were dead.

The other ship moved alongside, crewmen throwing ropes across to tie the two vessels together. Bumpers hanging over the side of the decks creaked and squealed as they rubbed against each other in the swell.

A tall man climbed aboard the Evenor, accompanied by two armed guards. He strode across the aft deck, signaling the men to bring Nina to him. Captain Matthews protested, but the guns waved in his face quickly silenced him.

Nina already knew whom she was facing. She had seen the hard, angular features before.

“Dr. Wilde,” he said. “We meet at last. My name is Giovanni Qobras.”

I know who you are,” Nina said, trying not to let her fear show. “What do you want?”

“What do I want?” The question provoked the tiniest flicker of amusement on Qobras’s stern face. “I want what everybody wants, Dr. Wilde. I want peace and security for the world. And thanks to you, I can now bring that about.” His intense gaze flicked over to Philby. “And thanks to you too, Jack. It’s been some time since we last met. Ten years, wasn’t it?”

“I was rather hoping I’d never have to meet you again,” said Philby, voice quavering.

Nina rounded on him. “You know him, Jonathan?”

“Jack—Jonathan, rather, I suppose it’s more dignified for a professor—has helped me keep anyone from finding Atlantis before,” said Qobras. He gestured to one of his men, who led Philby from the group of prisoners. “And now… Well.” He waved a hand at the empty ocean. “Atlantis will be lost forever, because it will be destroyed.”

“Why?” demanded Nina. “What secret could there possibly be that it’s worth destroying the most important archaeological find ever? And the lives of all the people you’ve killed?”

“If you knew, you wouldn’t need to ask that question,” Qobras replied. “You would be helping me. But I see your mind has been poisoned by the Frosts, like your parents. A shame. You could have accomplished so much if you hadn’t chosen the wrong path.”

“Wait, what about my parents?” But Qobras turned away as Starkman emerged from the superstructure.

“I’ve trashed the hard drive with the recordings from the dive, Giovanni,” Starkman announced. “All we have to do now is destroy the temple itself and there’ll be nothing left.”

“Excellent,” said Qobras. He was about to say something else when somebody urgently called his name. One of his men jumped between the two ships and ran to the helipad.

“Sir!” the man gasped, looking concerned. “Some thing’s gone wrong down below!”

“What happened?” Qobras asked.

“The Zeus destroyed the Frost submersible”—Trulli shoved forward, shouting and swearing at Qobras, until two of the guards pushed him back at gunpoint—“and detonated one of the demolition charges. But… our hydrophones heard an implosion.”

“Could it have been the Frost sub?”

“No, sir. That was already heading back to the surface, while this was on the seabed. One of the divers must have destroyed it.”

Qobras turned to Philby for an explanation. “Kari—I mean, Ms. Frost—and Chase were inside the temple,” the professor said, almost stuttering in his nervousness. “It must have been Castille.”

“Go, Hugo!” Nina said, with no joy. Starkman fixed her with a nasty look from his good eye.

The furrows on Qobras’s brow deepened. “We needed the Zeus to plant the explosives! How long will it take to get a replacement here?”

“At least five days, sir.”

“Too long. Frost can get more people and equipment here before then. And this time, they’ll be prepared for us.”

“What about their other sub?” Starkman asked, gesturing towards the Evenor’s bow, and the Sharkdozer.

“Only I know how to pilot it,” Trulli said defiantly. “And if you bastards think I’m going to help you after you killed my mate, you can fuck right off.”

Starkman looked annoyed and raised his gun, but Qobras shook his head. “Have the remaining demolition charges from our ship brought aboard this one,” he said after a few seconds of thought. “Set two thirds of them below the waterline forward, and the remainder aft.”

“What are you going to do?” Nina asked.

“Since I can no longer destroy the temple with explosives,” said Qobras, turning back to her, “I need some other method. Three thousand tons of steel dropped directly onto it should be an effective alternative.”

Ignoring the armed men around him, Captain Matthews stepped forward. “Qobras! What about my crew? What are you going to do with us?”

Qobras eyed him dismissively. “I believe there’s a maritime tradition that the captain should go down with his ship. In this case, that will apply to his crew as well.” He glanced back at Nina. “And his passengers.”

“You son of a bitch,” Matthews spat.

“You’re going to drown us?” Nina said, horrified.

Qobras shook his head. “No, no. I’m not a cruel man, or some crazed sadist, whatever your friends the Frosts may have said about me. When the ship sinks, you will already be dead.”

Chase checked his air supply. The deep suits were designed for long durations underwater, but they still had a limit. He had around another hour’s supply.

One hour. After that, he and Kari would become permanent residents in the ancient temple …

Kari had had the same thought. “There must be another way out,” she said, pointing down the stairs. “The water couldn’t have filled the main chamber through the secret passage, otherwise this room would be flooded as well.”

“Doesn’t mean we’ll be able to get through it,” Chase reminded her as he descended the steps.

“We still have to try.”

“I know, I was just preparing for the worst. It’s a British thing. How many of those big glow sticks do you have? We’ll need as much light as we can get.”

Kari checked the pouch on her belt. “Six.”

“Same here. Okay, let’s take a look.”

They waded into the frigid water.

Castille swam back to the site of the entrance. The cloud of silt kicked up by the explosion was still hanging there, and he knew from past experience that such murky water could take hours to clear.

Undaunted, he entered the cloud anyway. It was like an extremely thick brown fog, even the beam of his flashlight almost completely obscured by the drifting sediment.

He didn’t need to see to know that the passage had been sealed, however. Chunks of shattered stone lay on the seabed beneath his feet. Locating the line Chase had led into the tunnel, he tugged it experimentally. It didn’t give at all.

Using the suit’s thrusters to return to clearer water, he checked his air supply and considered his options. An hour left. He could easily return to the surface …

But the mere fact that they had been attacked suggested that the situation topside was dire. Qobras’s ship would have reached the Evenor by now. Apart from his knife he was unarmed, and on the surface, trapped inside the bulky deep suit, he would be almost useless in a fight.

Which meant that all he could do now was find some way to help Chase and Kari escape from the temple.

If they had survived.

The atmosphere on the helipad was tense. A few of the crew were close to tears, or panic. Others muttered fast prayers. Qobras’s men circled them, raising their MP-7s …

“Wait,” said Nina, masking her terror with as much determination as she could muster.

“For what?” Qobras asked.

“I’ll make you a deal. Let the crew use the lifeboats before you sink the ship, and …” She took a deep breath. “And I’ll give myself up to you.”

Starkman snorted dismissively as Qobras let out a brief, humorless laugh. “I already have you, Dr. Wilde! There’s nothing you can offer me—I have what I want. I know the location of Atlantis, and now I’m going to destroy it!”

“There’s something you don’t know, though,” Nina said with a thin smile. “The location of the third Temple of Poseidon.”

Qobras’s expression changed to one of wary surprise. “There is no third temple, Dr. Wilde. There is the one in Brazil, which has been destroyed, and the one below us, which will soon join it. The trail of the Atlanteans ends here.”

“Uh-uh.” Nina shook her head. “There’s a third one. And sooner or later, somebody’s going to find it. You think that just smashing the temple’s going to eliminate all the clues? People know where Atlantis is now. Word’s going to get out, and people will come looking. There’s a whole city down there, not just the temple. Sooner or later, someone’ll put the pieces together and be able to follow the trail. The secret you’ve been trying to hide’s going to be found, and there won’t be anything you can do about it. Unless …”

“Unless what?” There was menace in Qobras’s tone, but he was also intrigued.

“Unless I tell you where it is. So you can destroy it personally.”

“This is bullshit,” Starkman cut in. “She doesn’t know anything, she’s just trying to buy time and save herself.”

“Mr. Qobras, tell Patch here to shut the hell up,” Nina said, defiant despite her fear. Starkman bristled, but said nothing. “There is a third temple, a third citadel. Before the deluge, the Atlanteans were preparing to establish two new colonies. One expedition went west, to Brazil, the other … Well, I know where they went. And I’ll tell you. If you let the crew live.”

Starkman pressed his gun against Matthews’s head. “Or we could just execute them one by one until you tell us.”

“Seeing as you were going to kill us all anyway, that’s not really much of a deal,” Nina retorted.

Qobras rounded on Philby. “Is she telling the truth?”

“She, ah, could be,” Philby said, flustered. “The final inscriptions inside the temple did seem to indicate that the Atlanteans were planning to resettle in more than one location—but I didn’t have time to translate enough of it to be sure.” He regarded Nina suspiciously. “And I don’t see how she could have either.”

“I’m a quick study, Jack,” Nina sneered.

“Can you translate the rest?” Qobras asked.

Philby shook his head and sighed. “Not anymore.”

“Ha!” Nina made a face at Starkman. “Betcha wish you hadn’t smashed the hard drive now, huh?” She turned to Qobras. “So, what’s it going to be? I made you an offer, and it still stands. Let the crew live and I’ll take you to the last outpost of Atlantis.”

“You’ll take us?” said Starkman. “What, you want to turn this into a working vacation now?”

She folded her arms, fixing Qobras with a determined look. “I’ve been hunting for Atlantis my whole life. If I’m going to die because of that, then I want to know exactly why. I want to see the whole story. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.”

“Dr. Wilde, it’s too dangerous,” said Matthews. “For all you know, he’ll just kill us anyway.”

“I’m offering him a deal in good faith. I’m hoping he’ll accept it in the same way. What about it, Mr. Qobras?” she asked. “You said you weren’t a cruel man. Are you an honorable one?”

Starkman continued to glower at her, but Qobras was unreadable. He moved closer, his flint-gray eyes looking right into hers. “You realize, of course, that even after we destroy the final temple we cannot allow you to live? Are you still willing to offer your deal to save their lives?”

She swallowed before answering, mouth dry. “Yes.”

For a moment, he seemed almost impressed. “You are a very brave woman, Dr. Wilde. And noble. I wouldn’t have expected it, considering your … heritage.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He stepped back. “We will have time to discuss it later. But I will spare the people on this ship, if you agree to show me how to reach the last temple. Do we have a deal?”

“We do,” said Nina.

Qobras nodded. “Very well. Jason! Prepare the lifeboats, put the crew aboard.”

“Are you sure that’s the right thing to do?” Starkman asked.

“We shall see. Search them first, though—make sure they have no radio transmitters or flares. I want to be certain we have enough time to leave the area before they are picked up.” He pointed to the north. “The Portuguese coast is a hundred and forty kilometers in that direction, Captain. I hope your crew can row that far.” Matthews shot Qobras a hateful look as Starkman and the other men led the crew away.

“What about the people in Atlantis?” Nina asked. “My friends are still down there.”

“And that is where they will stay,” Qobras replied.

“What? Wait, we agreed—”

Qobras grabbed her, pulling her close as he hissed into her face: “We agreed to spare the people on this ship, Dr. Wilde. They are not on this ship. If you object to that, then I will order the crew to be shot! Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” Nina said, defeated.

“Dr. Wilde,” called Matthews, as one of Qobras’s men gestured with his gun for him to follow the rest of the crew, “do you have any family I should contact?”

“No, I’m afraid not,” she sighed. “Just… if you see Eddie, tell him I’ll send him a postcard.”

Matthews looked puzzled, but didn’t have time to say anything else before he was shoved away. Qobras waved a hand towards his own ship. “Now, Dr. Wilde, if you’ll step aboard my vessel… we can discuss the location of the last Atlantean temple.”

Even three-quarters filled with cold, dark water, the genuine Temple of Poseidon was even more impressive than its replica in South America.

“This is absolutely incredible,” said Kari, the danger of the situation overpowered by her awe at the sheer magnificence of the surroundings. Above her, ranks of slender ribs adorned with gold, silver and orichalcum rose to the peak of the curved ceiling. “Look at the roof! The whole thing is lined with ivory, just as Plato described it.”

“Incredible’s not the word I’d use,” said Chase, swimming to her. “It’s like being inside something’s ribcage. That bloke who did the Alien films’d love it in here.” He cracked another glow stick and tossed it across the chamber, where it bobbed on the water. Beyond the beams of their flashlights, the chamber was now illuminated with a soft orange glow. The head of Poseidon rose above the water, watching them balefully with blank golden eyes. “Did you find any way out?”

“No. What about you?”

Chase pointed down at the southern end of the chamber. “It’s just like the other temple, and I mean just like it. I bet if we went all the way down the passage, we’d find the same challenges.”

“There’s a passage? Can we get out that way?”

He shook his head. “It’s at ground level, remember? There’s thirty feet of sediment over the exit.”

“We might have to try it. Since the roof is intact, that must be how the water got in. We could still get out the same way.”

“There’s a quicker way out,” said Chase. He held up one of the explosive charges.

“No, it’s too dangerous,” she protested. “If you blow a hole through the ceiling, the whole thing might collapse!”

“I’m not planning on blowing the whole thing up. Look.” He swam to a section of wall where the decorative ivory had broken away, exposing bare stone. “We only need to make a hole big enough to fit through—even shifting one of those blocks would be enough.”