The Tomb of the Gods (Matt Drake 4) (8 page)

“As did you, my friend.” Dahl came forward. “When I finally let you have a look.”

The pair shook hands. “The bloody A-team,” Dahl said. “Back together.”

“Well, by all accounts,” Drake said seriously, “we’re gonna be needed.”

“Jesus!” Alicia said, brushing them aside. “Make sure his thong doesn’t cut your lip, Drake, when you pull it down with your teeth.”

Drake stared after her. “Bitch always had a way with words.”

Mai followed Alicia. “Let’s see who else came to the party, shall we?”

Drake let Dahl get his back and followed Mai through the ramshackle door. Once inside, the building abruptly changed, everything looking more modernized. A fortified, brick-lined passageway led to another door—this one a big, riveted hard steel affair—with a nearby keypad. Hayden was waiting for them, and after giving them all a brief, tense greeting, she entered a sixteen-digit pin to unlock the door.

She ushered them through. Drake tried to shake off his ideas and plans for the forthcoming trip to the SAS facility in Luxembourg and concentrate on the job at hand. Wells’s material might hold the key to Alyson’s killer, but it might also blow the lid off the Shadow Elite—an organization even now immorally involved in trying to acquire the doomsday weapon that might exist inside the third and final tomb of the gods.

He saw Ben immediately. The young man stood uncomfortably in one corner of the big room, next to his sister, a pint of coke in hand and looking like the geek hanging out at the school disco. The bar behind him glistened with liter bottles full of the sweet nectar of forgetfulness. Drake’s eyes lingered a moment too long.

Dahl clapped him on the back. Hard. “Check that out, mate.”

Alicia had sashayed into the middle of the room, like a capable and confident model surveying an invited audience that, for some reason, never understood it was really the prey, until she came face to face with Daniel Belmonte, the British master thief, her ex-lover.

Drake could hear them speaking. Belmonte, to his credit, had recovered quickest. “Always good to. . .bump into you, Myles.”

Drake saw Hayden watching them too. And Ben watching Hayden. Such an odd rectangle of ex and current lovers.

Alicia didn’t miss a beat though. “The only thing you’ll be
stealing
tonight, Belmonte, is glances.” And she walked right by him, continuing toward the bar without looking back.

Mai had watched the exchange too. “She’s good. Though I’d never tell her.”

“Your secret is safe with me, Miss Kitano,” Dahl told her, a big smile lighting his face.

Drake took a moment to study the room. Clearly, this was some kind of local police safe house. Someone, Gates or Hayden or even Dahl, had probably called in a favor, an occurrence that would probably be happening a lot during the next few days. As he thought about it, Drake decided it had been Dahl. The Swede was the least likely of them all to pop up on an enemy’s radar and no doubt had a vast amount of friends and colleagues in mainland Europe. The room was furnished with a couple of big sofas, a solid oak table long enough to seat a horde of Vikings, and at least three makeshift beds in the corners. The bar, of course, was the main feature, especially for those having to deal with a terrible new knowledge.

Dahl took out his wallet and took a moment to study a picture of his two sons and his wife. Still holding it, he turned to Drake. “This is why we fight,” he said. “This is why we try to make things better. So our children can grow up in a safer world.”

Drake opened his mouth to reply. A sudden, unexpected lump of emotion lodged at the back of his throat. Dahl stared at him. The Swede didn’t know Alyson had been pregnant. Even now, Drake was still dealing with the fact that he would never have children, and that the child he had made had been so viciously torn from him.

“I will kill them all,” he whispered. “No one will get away with what they did.”

Dahl looked momentarily confused, then returned the picture to his wallet. Maybe he thought that Drake, in his way, was just agreeing with him. “I have a man on the inside,” he said with a grin. “In Iceland. He’s translating the ancient language as we speak. I should be hearing from him any time.”

“About what?”

“About
everything.
Bloody hell, why are Yorkshire men so dumb? The whole story is there, mate. About why the gods lay down to die. About the time-travel devices you found near the Bermuda Triangle and in Hawaii. About the doomsday machine. About how they
created fate.
They hopped through time, Matt, literally
hopped,
like we would visit different stores in a mall. Do you remember that poem, the one related to Odin?”

Drake collected himself. “Vaguely.”

“The ending went ‘
Forever shall thou fear this, hear me sons of men, for to defile the Tomb of Gods is to start the Day of Reckoning.’”

“Yes?”

“We believe that it has begun. The day of reckoning is fast approaching.”

“The Day of Reckoning? Something to do with Armageddon. Or the Viking’s
Ragnarok?”

“Exactly.
Ragnarok.
Either heroes will rise to save the day or villains will end it.”

Drake stared at his Swedish friend. That sentence struck a chord in him.
Either heroes will rise to save the day or villains will end it.
“So we’ll stay strong until the end,” he said. “And we’ll win the day. For our children, and our friends.”

“No matter what.” Dahl gripped his hand and the two men shared a moment that would lock them together for the rest of their lives.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Drake watched Hayden walk through the crowd as Alicia had done. But this time the crowd parted with respect and expectation.

He saw her command attention with a look, a sigh. He saw Ben staring at her and suddenly felt a wave of sadness for his young friend. There was no future there. Ben, though exceptional in his own right, was not the man for Hayden Jaye. And widening his field of vision, he noticed Komodo—the Delta team leader who had helped him win the day against the Blood King in Hawaii. Drake made a point of catching the man’s eye and nodding in respect, though Komodo seemed more intent on chatting with Karin than noticing Drake.

There were men scattered around who Drake didn’t know. Probably colleagues of Mai and loyal soldiers attached to Jonathan Gates, a US Secretary of Defense who could realistically trust no one except the few people in this very room.

“We’re in desperate times,” Hayden said. “You all know that the third tomb of the gods houses the nastiest of their kind. So we have no idea what to expect. And even worse—it may also contain some kind of doomsday device. We don’t know with any certainty, so we can’t rule anything out. What we
do
know is that Russell Cayman—under the command of some all-powerful group—will stop at nothing to reach the tomb. The race to reach it first has already begun. If you’re willing to risk your life to become a hero, then stay in this room. Otherwise—just walk away.”

Not a man or woman listening moved a muscle.

Hayden smiled. Everyone was scared, but they stayed anyway. She nodded toward her boss. “The US Secretary of Defense would like to say something.”

Jonathan Gates didn’t move, but his voice carried around the room. “I can only reinforce what Agent Jaye has already told you. The tomb is vital. The remaining eight Pieces of Odin, now in Stuttgart, are vital. Russell Cayman is vital, and if at all possible needs to be captured alive. We don’t know”—he paused—“if the eyes of authority consider us the bad guys here. But we’re monitoring the news services and nothing has come up so maybe someone, somewhere, has our backs. There’s a group—calls itself the Shadow Elite—who think they own the world. Let’s shake it up and show ’em who it really belongs to. The people.”

A cheer went up. Drake could hardly imagine the variety of characters a man like Gates could enlist to find the Shadow Elite. Something would shake loose soon. When Gates stopped speaking and the room started to mobilize for their short journey to the tomb, Drake drifted over to Ben and Karin.

“You two nailed down the tomb’s location, I hear. Not bad for a head banger and a dropout.”

Ben’s face fell. “Don’t remind me, mate. Just don’t remind me.” He sounded suicidal.

Drake blinked rapidly at Karin. “His nappy rash flared up again?”

Karin smirked. “Worse than ever. But on top of that, he’s just heard that, in his absence, the band released their CD when they came out of police protection and have been invited to guest at a festival near Leeds.”

“Isn’t that good news, mate?”

“Not when I’m
here
,” Ben whined, “saving the world.”

“Worse thing is—” Karin couldn’t contain herself any longer. “The festival’s being headlined by Ben’s two favorite groups. Pretty Reckless and Evanescence.”

Drake whistled. “Bummer. Don’t worry. Maybe the world will have ended by then.”

Ben glared at him. “I thought you, at least, would understand.”

“Life’s tough, Ben.” Drake cast a sideways glance at Hayden. “And if you don’t
realize
that pretty soon, you’re gonna find out in a way that’ll cut you off at the knees.” Drake turned away, an old memory of Kennedy playing through his head. “Stick to working the internet, Blakey.”

Karin put a hand on his shoulder as he made to walk away. “There’s something else bothering him too. Well, both of us. This Shadow Elite—we found literally bugger all about them on the net. Not a trace nor a trail. Not even a sniff of digital footprints.”

Drake nodded. “I understand.” Ben and Karin working together could crack into the NSA without breaking a sweat. He walked them over to where Hayden, Mai and Alicia were talking. “Now, if you’re up for it, there’s the last tomb of the gods to raid.”

Hayden heard his last comment as they approached. She looked up, eyes hard. “You’d better be up for it. You think you’ve gone through hell so far? You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

PART 2

The tomb, the thief and the train.

CHAPTER TWELVE

The industrial city of Singen in Southern Germany had no idea of the storm that was set to strike. Sitting pretty and picturesque under a clear, blue sky, surrounded by forests, lakes and mountains, and overlooked by the landmark it was made famous for—the volcanic stub on which was built a fortress, now ruined—it basked in dangerous ignorance.

Some of the world’s most ruthless men and women approached. Some were already there.

They made the trip in less than an hour. During that time Drake, Alicia, Mai and Dahl swapped stories and jokes to help alleviate the tension. Drake kept half an ear on the conversation, but concentrated mainly on checking the gear he’d been issued back at the safe house. Of course, as always, Dahl had chosen that particular place for a major reason. Not only was it an SSG facility, it was also a military bunker and stored enough weaponry to outfit a small army. SIG and Glock pistols, American M16’s, and M4 Carbines. Pump-action shotguns, rocket launchers, grenades and flares.

Alicia and even Mai had approached the stash eagerly, like kids at Christmas, but Drake had grabbed the bare minimum, while making sure both Ben and Karin were outfitted with easy-to-use “point and click” handguns. At first, he had tried persuading them to stay behind, or at least stay hidden.

Ben had shaken his head immediately. Karin, in the way of a close sister, had put his thoughts into words. “We’ve come this far. We might be scared, but we’re doing it anyway.”

Drake looked at them, looked at them all. “That’s what makes a hero.”

“My life,” Karin said, “hadn’t been worth living, until I chased a madman down a black hole in a tropical paradise. Until then. . .I purposely destroyed my life.”

“Why would you do that?” Drake had asked.

Karin had shaken her head. “I lost my faith in people. Even now, I can’t find it. I just...can’t.”

“We’ll try to help.” Drake said to her, painfully aware that two months ago his words would have been
trust me. I’ll save you.
But not now. Not ever again.

“Like I said, we’re coming with you.”

Now Drake began to prepare himself mentally for what was to come. Their toughest battle yet. The streets of Singen streamed past, the stump of
Hohentwiel
now commanding the horizon. Lush fields, stands of green trees and a few houses encircled the volcanic stub and its old castle and, as they drew closer, something else.

Something completely out of place.

The chatter began to fire up the airwaves almost immediately. “I see three choppers, sir. All military.” A voice from the lead car.

Dahl’s voice. “Markings?”

“Sir, I think you should know this first.
They’re just landing.
Men are e-vaccing as I speak. I think we should consider an immediate strike.”

A stunned silence followed. Drake’s adrenalin spiked and he caught a look that flashed between Alicia and Mai. They were up for it too. They all nodded at Dahl.

“We hit them before they can set up,” Drake said. “Before they can prepare, settle, or plan. That way, even though we came second, we still have the element of surprise.”

“Strike through their lines.” Mai joined in. “Break through, outflank them, and decimate. We’ll come upon those already inside the tomb without warning.”

Alicia scowled. “In an ideal world, little sprite.”

Dahl was already speaking into the walkie. “Plan is a go. We do this now. No delay.”

“Lock and load.” Hayden’s voice came over the walkie. “Nothing changes. We hit them harder, that’s all. Remember, this is one of the most important military strikes in living memory. We’re talking about a third tomb of the gods
and
a possible doomsday device being acquired by an unknown group. We simply cannot afford to fail. ”

The military convoy picked up speed as it left the city and approached the old volcano. They made final weapons checks, clicked live ammo into place and tried to attain the mental focus it was going to take to win the day.