The Hunt for Atlantis (5 page)

Nina barely had time to scream before the car ripped through the flimsy wire-mesh barrier at the wharf’s end and arced down towards the dark water below.

Sudden deceleration crushed her against the back of the driver’s seat. Freezing water cascaded over her, a tsunami rushing through the broken windows. Bubbles frothed past as the Bentley’s heavy front end tipped downwards, pulling the car and its occupant towards the bottom of the river.

Nina tried to get out through the rear window, but the high headrests above the back seat blocked her escape. Eyes stinging, she tugged desperately at the nearest door handle, but it still wouldn’t budge.

The side window …

The glass was smashed, and it was just large enough for her to fit. She grabbed the window frame and pulled herself through. Her shoulders cleared the door, her chest—

She was stuck!

Her dress had snagged on the metal rods supporting the driver’s seat’s destroyed headrest.

Nina kicked, trying to free herself. No luck. Her stupid dress was still caught fast. She kicked harder, pushing at the window frame with her arms for extra leverage. The material gave slightly, but refused to tear.

Her chest was about to explode. She wanted nothing more than to take a breath, but the only thing she would draw into her lungs was water.

She was going to drown! Professor Philby had been right: her hunt for Atlantis would get her killed—

No, there was no way she was going to let him be right!

But she couldn’t do anything to stop it. She was trapped in a car that was plunging to the bottom of the Hudson, and the pounding in her head would at any moment overcome her reason and force her to take a fatal breath…

Someone grabbed her.

She was so surprised that the breath froze on her lips. An arm tightened around her waist, pulling. Her dress ripped, and her savior dragged her through the window, kicking forcefully upwards as the Bentley disappeared into the darkness below.

Her heart slamming desperately inside her chest, Nina breached the surface and pulled in a whooping, painful gasp, not caring about the foul taste of the water. One arm still around her, her rescuer pulled her towards shore. Her pain and panic subsiding, Nina looked to see who it was.

The man in the leather jacket grinned back at her, revealing a prominent gap between his two front teeth. “Ay up, Doc?”

“You?”

“Tchah! That’s bloody gratitude for you!”

They reached the pier, the man guiding her to a rusted ladder. Nina wearily climbed it, dragging herself onto a concrete dock below the main level of the wharf itself. The man followed, water streaming from his jacket. “Nice dress.”

“What?” Nina asked, confused, before realizing that her skirt had been torn away practically to her crotch. “Oh my God!” She clapped her hands protectively between her legs.

“Well,” said the man, running a hand over his short hair, “if that’s all you’re worried about, you’re probably okay.” His accent was English, but not from a region Nina could pin down. “Which is good, ’cause we need to get out of here. Right now.” He held out a hand. Nina stared at it in bewilderment for a moment, then took it. With considerable strength, he hauled her to her feet. It was only then that she realized she’d lost both her shoes.

“Who are you?” she demanded, as he quickly led her to a flight of steps leading up to the wharf. “What’s going on?”

“My name’s Chase. Eddie Chase. Don’t worry, I’m not some nutter.” He looked back to give her a smile that wasn’t entirely reassuring. “Just mad enough to dive into a river to rescue the woman I’ve been hired to look after.”

“Hired?”

“Yeah. I’m your bodyguard!”

They reached the top of the steps. A small group of people were waiting for them, looking amazed. A few of them applauded. “Used to be in the SAS—you know, Special Air Service. Now I’m… sort of a freelancer.” Nina saw that his Range Rover, its front end the worse for wear, was parked on the wharf with a door open and the engine still running.

An overweight man in the uniform of a security firm jogged towards them, panting. “Hey! What the hell’s going on here?”

“It’s all right, mate,” said Chase. “Everything’s under control.”

“The hell it is! A car just smashed through the gates and went off the end of the pier! I want some answers!”

Chase sighed, then reached into his jacket and pulled out his massive gun. It looked even more menacing to Nina close up, the long barrel reinforced by a slotted steel bar along its top. “Mr. Magnum here’ll answer any questions,” he said, waving it in the guard’s general direction. The little crowd hurriedly backed away. “You got any?”

The guard fought to keep the fear off his face, with little success. “They can wait.”

“Good. You might want to find the bloke who bailed out of the car before it crashed, though—he’s the real bad guy. But right now I need to get this lady somewhere safe. All right?”

“Sure!” the guard agreed, backing off.

Still keeping his gun raised, Chase opened the Range Rover’s passenger door for Nina, then ran to the driver’s side and jumped in. He drove off down the wharf at high speed. At the end he made a tight turn, then sped along the empty sidewalk for a few hundred yards before passing the tangle of stationary cars and swerving onto the West Side Highway. “Better put the heater on, I suppose,” he said, glancing at the shivering Nina as he accelerated. In the distance, the sound of sirens wailed through the night air.

She clenched her teeth. “What the hell’s going on?”

“Short version? Bad guys want to kill you. Good guys want to stop them. I’m one of the good guys.”

“Why do they want to kill me? What did I do?”

“It’s not what you’ve done, Doc. It’s what they’re afraid you might do. That bloke in the Bentley, Starkman? Used to be a mate of mine back in the day—we worked together, joint ops around the world—until he went rogue.”

“He said he worked for the Frost Foundation, for Kristian Frost,” said Nina.

Chase laughed. “Well, I know for a fact that he doesn’t.”

“How?”

“Because I work for Kristian Frost. You want to meet him?”

Norway

Check it out, Doc,” said Chase. “Pretty nice, isn’t it?” “It certainly is,” Nina agreed, gazing at the starkly beautiful landscape below.

Kristian Frost’s home and corporate headquarters were both at Ravnsfjord, three miles inland of the Norwegian coast south of Bergen. The fjord that gave the area its name bisected his expansive property. On the southern side was a campus of office buildings that, while ultramodern in design, nevertheless perfectly complemented their surroundings. A road led from them to a slender arched road bridge across the fjord. Over looking the bridge—overlooking the entire area, she realized—was another large, sleek building, its colors and curves blending into the bluff on which it stood.

“That’s Frost’s house,” Chase told her.

“That’s a house?” Nina gasped. “My God, it’s huge! I thought it was another office building!”

“Bit bigger than your flat, eh?”

“Just a bit.” The plane—a Gulfstream V business jet in Frost’s corporate livery—banked to cross over the fjord. Nina spotted another cluster of ultramodern buildings farther east of the house at the base of a cliff, then on the northern side of the waterway their destination—a private airport. “All of this belongs to Kristian Frost?”

“Pretty much, yeah. He runs his whole business from here, almost never leaves. Guess he doesn’t like traveling.”

Nina took a last look through the porthole before sitting back. The Gulfstream was moving into its final descent. “It’s a lovely place to live, that’s for sure. A bit isolated, though.”

“Well, when you’re a billionaire, I suppose the world comes to you.”

The plane landed and taxied to the small terminal building. Nina wrapped her coat more tightly around herself as she stepped down onto the concrete. “Bit nippy?” Chase asked.

“Are you kidding? I’m used to New York winters. This is nothing!” Actually, it was close to freezing even without the chill wind blowing in from the coast, but now that she’d opened her big mouth she had to endure it.

“Well, we’ll be going somewhere a lot warmer soon.” Nina looked at Chase for an explanation, but he just grinned. “Here’s our ride.”

A white Jeep Grand Cherokee pulled up next to the plane. A thick-necked man with close-cropped blond hair and muscles practically bursting the seams of his tailored dark suit, got out to greet them. “Dr. Wilde,” he said, his accent German. “I am Mr. Frost’s head of security here at Ravnsfjord, Josef Schenk.” He extended his hand, which Nina shook. Although his grip was light, she could tell that if he chose, he could crush every bone in her hand. “Good to meet you.”

“Thank you,” said Nina. Chase and Schenk were eyeing each other up almost like boxers before a fight. They had similar builds; she wondered if they also had similar—or rival—military backgrounds.

“Joe,” said Chase.

“Mr. Chase,” Schenk replied, before opening the Jeep’s rear door. “Please, Dr. Wilde. I’ll take you to Mr. Frost.”

Nina got in. Chase followed her with a slightly sarcastic “Cheers,” closing the door behind him. Schenk glared at him before walking around the SUV to the driver’s side.

“What’s that all about?” Nina asked.

“He’s a company man,” Chase explained while Schenk was out of earshot. “Doesn’t like freelancers, thinks I’m going to rip off his boss.”

“And are you?” Nina couldn’t resist asking.

“I’m a professional,” replied Chase, for a moment completely serious. “I always see the job through.”

Schenk climbed in and they set off. Nina saw several hangars at the runway’s western end. Parked outside the largest was a huge aircraft, the Frost corporate logo—the outline of a trident inside the “O” of the name—only half complete along its flank as tiny figures on cherry-picker cranes painted it. “Wow. That’s a big plane.”

“An Airbus A380 freighter,” Schenk said. “The latest addition to Mr. Frost’s fleet.”

Nina looked back down the long runway. Steep hills rose beyond its distant eastern end. “Hope it’s got good brakes! Those mountains look a bit close.”

“It can only take off heading westwards. It’s inconvenient, but fortunately once it’s in service it will be spending more time flying around the world than here.”

The Jeep left the airport and crossed the bridge. Nina expected them to turn west for the corporate buildings, but instead they headed up a zigzagging road towards the house on the bluff. Close up, its clean, elegant lines looked even more striking.

Schenk parked outside, then ushered Nina and Chase into the house. “This way.”

Nina was hugely impressed by the room into which he led them. Its far wall was curved, a giant window running its full width to reveal the vista beyond, from the mountains framing the airport across the fjord to the corporate buildings below, and, in the distance, the North Sea.

And the view wasn’t the only impressive thing about the room. It was almost a combination of luxurious lounge and art gallery. A Henry Moore sculpture, a Picasso painting in an alcove carefully shielded from direct sunlight, a Paul Klee … and several others she didn’t immediately recognize, but was sure were equally valuable.

“This is an amazing house,” she said, awed.

“Thank you,” said a new voice, a woman’s. Nina turned to see a tall and strikingly beautiful blonde entering the room, glossy hair sweeping down past her shoulders. She looked to be about Nina’s age or slightly younger, the regal way she held herself countered by her high-fashion clothing—a tight white top cut off above her stomach to reveal a perfectly toned midriff, and equally tight black leather jeans with high-heeled boots. As she approached, she looked Nina up and down as if not quite sure what to make of her.

“Dr. Wilde,” said Schenk, “this is Kari Frost, Mr. Frost’s daughter.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Nina, offering her hand. Kari shook it firmly. Chase, Nina noticed with amusement, was trying not to make it too obvious that he was checking her out.

“You too, Dr. Wilde,” Kari replied. “Mr. Chase. I heard your services were needed in New York?”

“Yeah, you could say that. Good job you hired me!” He shot Schenk a smug look. Schenk frowned.

“I’m glad you like the house,” said Kari, turning back to Nina. “I designed it. Architecture is one of my… well, I would say hobbies, but that would be immodest. I have a degree in the subject.” She spoke perfect English with only the slightest trace of an accent.

“It’s beautiful,” Nina told her.

“Thank you.” Kari’s name was familiar, but Nina couldn’t quite recall why.

“So, your dad around?” Chase asked, hooking his thumbs into his jacket pockets.

Kari appeared slightly chilly about his informality. “No, he’s in the biolab. I came to take you to him.”

The memory returned to Nina. “Excuse me for asking, but… weren’t you in the news last year, in Africa? The medical relief in Ethiopia?”

“Yes, that was me,” Kari said. “I helped organize the aid effort.”

“Ms. Frost does more than just help,” Schenk said. “She’s in charge of the Frost Foundation’s medical programs around the world. I don’t think there’s a single country she hasn’t visited in the past five years.”

“That’s one way to rack up the frequent-flier miles,” joked Chase.

“You’re working on disease eradication programs, aren’t you?” Nina asked.

“Yes. The Frost Foundation does whatever it can to make the world a better place. It’s a lofty goal, I admit—but it’s one that I’m certain we can achieve.”

“I hope you can,” said Nina.

“Thank you,” Kari replied. She gestured at the door. “If you’ll come with me, I’ll take you to my father.”

Kari led them downstairs to a huge garage beneath the house. Nina was amazed by its contents; the space was packed with expensive sports cars and motorcycles, ranging from old classics to the very latest Italian supercars.

“My personal collection,” said Kari. “My father doesn’t entirely approve, but I just love the freedom and exhilaration of speed.”

“Nice wheels,” said Chase as he admired first a scarlet Ferrari F430 Spider convertible, then the motorbike parked next to it, a sleek machine in blue and silver.

“Suzuki GSX-R1000,” Kari told him, with more than a hint of pride—the first sign of real emotion she’d shown since meeting Nina. “The fastest production bike in the world. One of my favorites. I plan to take it to Europe to race soon. That is … if my schedule allows. But that depends on Dr. Wilde.”

“What do you mean?” asked Nina. Kari merely gave her an engimatic look, leading them to a Mercedes limousine.

Schenk drove, taking them to the futuristic buildings east of the house that Nina had seen from the plane. As they approached, she saw the complex was actually made up of two sections: the interconnected two-story structures on the ground near the fjord, and other sections above them set into the cliff itself.

“Our biolab,” explained Kari. “The underground section houses the containment area. There are samples in there which are potentially dangerous, so the whole laboratory section can be completely sealed off in case of an emergency.” She pointed at a curved structure protruding from the cliff face. “That’s my father’s office, up there.”

“Your father’s office is right above the containment area?” Nina asked nervously. The idea of going into a building filled with contagious diseases and viruses made her skin crawl.

“His idea, to show his confidence in the design. Besides, he likes to keep a close eye on our progress.”

They drove down a ramp into a parking garage beneath the main building, then got out and took an elevator to a lobby on the ground floor. A large horseshoe-shaped desk of black steel and marble was manned by three uniformed security guards, who nodded respectfully to Kari. Behind the desk, doors led into a high corridor with a glass roof through which Nina could see Frost’s office above. The place was busy.

“How many people work here?” she asked.

“It varies,” said Kari, “but usually around fifty or sixty researchers, plus the security staff.”

Nina spotted another security station at the end of the corridor by the large glass and steel doors. “You, uh … you’ve got a lot of security, haven’t you?”

“We need it,” Kari answered matter-of-factly. “Some of the samples we work with could be used for bio-terrorism if they fell into the wrong hands. And the Frost Foundation unfortunately has enemies. You’ve met some of them already.”

“Don’t worry, Doc,” said Chase, “I’ll keep you safe.”

The sight of the trefoil biohazard logo on the door made Nina slow her approach. “Are … are you sure this is safe?”

“Absolutely,” Kari assured her. “These doors are part of an airlock. They’re made of ceramic aluminum oxynitride—transparent aluminum, equivalent to sixty centimeters of armor plate. Virtually unbreakable. The only way anything gets in or out of the containment section, whether it be a microbe or a person, is with our permission.”

Kari spoke to the guards, and the heavy airlock doors hissed open. The group passed through, waiting for the inner doors to cycle. The containment section beyond was purely functional in design, almost brutal. The walls were tiled in white, the floors coated in nonslip rubber for ease of cleaning. Harsh fluorescent lights lit every corner with an even glare, and Nina also saw the eerie purple glow of ultraviolet sources, adding to the sterile air.

Inside, Kari led them to an elevator that took them up to Frost’s office. Entering, Nina suddenly felt as though she’d been transported back to the house, the design was so similar. She could even see the house itself through the windows, perched atop its crag.

But it wasn’t the view, or the architecture, or the objets d’art that caught her attention. It was the man waiting for them.

Kristian Frost was even more imposing and handsome in real life than in pictures. Well over six feet tall, and still impressively muscular despite his sixty years, in his navy blue roll-neck sweater he reminded her more of a rugged fisherman than a billionaire businessman. His hair and beard were both turning gray, but his eyes still contained a youthful energy and deep intelligence.

“Dr. Wilde,” he said, taking her hand. She was a little surprised when instead of shaking it, he lowered his head to kiss it. From anyone else the gesture would have seemed somewhat silly, but coming from him it felt perfectly apt. “Welcome to Ravnsfjord.”

“Mr. Frost,” she began.

“Please! Call me Kristian.” His English was not quite as precise as Kari’s, a deep burr in his voice revealing his Scandinavian origins. “I’m very glad to meet you. And I’m also very glad that I’m able to meet you. Hiring Mr. Chase has paid for itself already.”

“Then I guess I should thank you for, well, saving my life!”

Frost smiled broadly. “Happy to be of service.”

“But… why would anyone want to kill me? What’s all this about?”

“Please, take a seat and I will explain,” said Frost, directing her to a long sofa. She sat, Kari joining her at the other end. “I’m afraid that your theories about Atlantis have led you to be targeted by a man called Giovanni Qobras.”

“And who is Giovanni Qobras?” Nina asked.

“A madman,” said Kari.

“Oh.” Not just a killer, but a mad killer. Great.

“Qobras and his followers,” Frost began, “who call themselves the Brotherhood, believe the same thing that I do—that you do. If there’s one thing we all have in common, it’s that we believe the legend of Atlantis is true. I’ve been convinced of it all my life, and I’ve put a quite substantial amount of my fortune into attempting to prove it.” He walked over to the wide window. In the far distance, the sea glinted like tiny diamonds. “Unfortunately, without much success. As you know, there’s very little information to work from … and what there is is subject to a great deal of interpretation.”

“Tell me about it,” said Nina. “So what about this Qobras?”

He turned to face her. “You and I want to find Atlantis, to bring an ancient wonder back to the world. Qobras, on the other hand…” His face darkened. “He wants to keep it hidden, to protect the secret for his own ends. And he’s willing to resort to murder to do so. Your new theory about its location may not have convinced the committee at your university, but it certainly convinced Qobras. He believes that you’re on the right track—as do I, by the way—and he wants to stop you from proving it.”