Joe Hawke Series Boxsets 3

by Rob Jones

  “People think of these legends as all taking place in ancient Greece but this is not always the case,” Khatibi said from nowhere. “We have the Pillars of Hercules and part of the Atlas Mountains right here in Morocco, for example.”

  Ryan nodded in agreement. “According to the myths, there’s a famous legend detailing a meeting between Atlas and Heracles, so we know they met at least once. As you know, Heracles was made to perform twelve labours as a punishment for killing his family.”

  “Which on reflection seems fair enough,” Lexi said.

  “Oh, sorry,” Scarlet said. “Is that you being funny or were you making a serious point?”

  “Drop dead.”

  “Kapow!” Ryan said, giggling.

  Scarlet looked at him. “Really?”

  “Sorry. Anyway, so off he goes on his twelve labours and one of them just happens to be getting hold of some golden apples.”

  “As in the golden apples of Valhalla fame?” Lea said.

  He nodded.

  “All this shit is coming together,” Scarlet said, lighting a cigarette. “I just wish I cared.”

  Ryan shook his head at her and continued. “So these particular golden apples belonged to Hera, Zeus’s wife and sister.”

  “The plot thickens,” Lexi said. “Wait – what? His wife and sister?”

  “I’m afraid so, yes, and if that’s not scary enough, the garden was also guarded by Ladon, a sort of cross between a serpent and a dragon. Definitely not fuckaroundable with, if you get my drift. The constellation Draco is supposed to be Ladon.”

  “We finally reach your millionth factoid,” Scarlet said.

  “Anyway,” Ryan said, ignoring her, “old Ladon was guarding the Garden of the Hesperides, and…”

  Lea looked at Ryan, confused. “Wait – who?”

  “The Hesperides – the famous evening nymphs.”

  “Oh, I remember.”

  “Great. So the thing is Heracles was reluctant to go and fight Ladon for the golden apples so he went and asked Atlas if he would do it for him.”

  “As you would.”

  “Except Atlas was busy holding the entire world on his shoulders.”

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Scarlet said, “but are we still working on the premise that all of this shit really happened, or not? It’s just that the whole planet being held up by one chap is pushing even my broad mind.”

  “It might be metaphorical,” he said bluntly. “So Heracles made a deal with Atlas that involved him holding up the world while Atlas got the apples, the only problem being that when Atlas returned with the apples, he offered to finish the task himself, and Heracles got the impression he was trying to fool him into carrying the world forever.”

  “So what happened?”

  “Heracles got sneaky and told Atlas he accepted the offer, but that first he wanted to rearrange his cloak, so he asked Atlas to hold the world for just a second.”

  “And then what?”

  “Then Heracles took the apples and ran away, of course.”

  “This is riveting – it really is, boy – but is it going anywhere?”

  “Maybe – some of these symbols seem to refer to the golden apples.”

  “So we’re looking for more golden apples?”

  “Not at all,” Khatibi said. “Golden apples are a metaphor for immortality throughout European folklore.”

  “So we’re searching for more sodding eternity?” Scarlet said.

  “We’re searching for Atlantis, Cairo,” Lea said. “I thought we were all on that page by now.”

  “And this mysterious temple is down there somewhere?” Maria said.

  “Heads up,” Hawke said. “We’re here and we’re not the first ones.”

  Peering down on the mountain’s amazing twin peaks with their night vision they were able to see Dirk Kruger’s expedition already set up and a dozen men milling around some pickup trucks.

  “Bastard worked it out first,” Hawke said.

  “He had more to go on,” Lea said, trying to soften his frustration and disappointment.

  “Not fun being late to the party, though,” Camacho said.

  Scarlet looked at him, lingering a second too long at his biceps. “You’re very good at stating the obvious, darling.”

  “That’s not all I’m good at, babe.”

  Ryan rolled his eyes. “I’d say get a room but first, I’m not sure there’s a hotel room big enough to accommodate your two egos and second, we are somewhat busy at the moment.”

  Scarlet tickled Ryan’s chin with her finger. “Aww – is Baby Ryan jealous?”

  “Jealous?” Ryan and Camacho said in unison.

  “Oh please,” Scarlet said, leaning forward to kiss the American.

  “Guys,” Lea said. “Ry’s right. Can we leave the mating ritual till later?”

  Scarlet agreed with Lea, but squeezed Camacho’s bicep and gave him a wink before pulling her gun out and sliding a round into the chamber. The chopper was descending now.

  Camacho smiled back. “This really could be the start of a beautiful relationship.”

  “Don’t count on it,” Ryan mumbled. “Scarlet doesn’t do beautiful relationships, but she does have a good line in rough shags. Just ask the Royal Navy.”

  “Hey, you little nerdgasm,” Scarlet said. “I’ll give you a good line in rough shags, all right.”

  “No thanks, I’m in love with Maria and I couldn’t afford the pharmacy bills anyway.”

  Before Scarlet could respond, Lea pointed to a column of smoke that was now pouring out of a crack in the mountain’s southern slope. “Looks like they might have found what they’re looking for, guys.”

  “At least it saves us fucking about in the dark,” Scarlet said.

  Hawke raised the night vision binoculars to his eyes again and leaned forward. “Hang on a second – what the hell’s he got down there?”

  “What is it?” Lea asked.

  He took a second look and shook his head in disbelief. “He’s got a sodding Kaman down there.”

  Ryan looked over at him in the darkness of the Eurocopter. “Sorry, Dirk Kruger has an alligatorid crocodilian down there?”

  Scarlet rolled her eyes. “A what?”

  “Caiman,” Lea said. “That’s how Ryan says caiman.”

  “Why the hell would Kruger have a caiman down there?” Camacho asked.

  “Kaman,” Hawke said, spelling it out. “Not sodding caiman.”

  “I thought that was odd,” Ryan said.

  “What the hell is a Kaman?” Lea asked.

  “The Kaman K-MAX is a synchropter. Lockheed Martin’s finest autonomous flying technology, right here, right now for your pleasure.”

  “Sorry – so it’s a helicopter?” Ryan said, taking the binoculars and having a look.

  “Yes and no,” Hawke said. “It’s a synchropter, like I just said. It has two intermeshing rotors that give it tremendous lift. It can carry things heavier than itself.”

  “Why the hell has Kruger got one of these out here?”

  Ryan answered. “My guess is he was one step ahead and knew about those rocks blocking the entrance to the vault.”

  “Eh?”

  Ryan passed the binoculars back to Hawke and he saw the Kaman rising into the air down on the side of the mountain. Attached to the four-hook carousel beneath it was an enormous boulder which the Kaman was now lifting away from the rocky slope to reveal an entrance.

  “Let’s get down there,” Hawke said. “By the looks of things we’ve no time to waste.”

  They landed and hiked along a goat track until they reached Kruger’s camp where they took cover behind some boulders. From here they watched the last of the South African archaeologist’s crew disappear inside the mountain.

  “Looks like we’re on,” Hawke said.

  They reached the entrance and saw Kruger had rigged up a small generator for light and drills and was already long gone inside the depths of Jebel Musa. They followed the path, reas
sured by how much they had reduced Kruger’s forces but still aware they would be dangerous.

  The tunnel took a sharp dive down and they held on to the roughly hewn sides to stop themselves sliding, but then they reached their destination.

  The Temple of Hercules.

  It was smaller than any of them had expected, and they could easily see Dirk Kruger, Van Zyl, Luk, Kamchatka and Korać at the far end. It looked like the Serbian warlord had replenished his force of goons as well.

  “Take a look here,” Ryan said, indicating the sides of the tunnel. Either side of them they saw thick stone walls that had retracted back into the sides of the rock and on the floor at their feet they saw the stone column Kruger had taken from the Tomb of Tanit. “This is what he needed the stone key for – to pull back these massive stone walls.”

  They moved closer to the temple and saw the walls in here were roughly carved out of the mountain’s granite, but the floor had been worn smooth over countless centuries of use. Piles of treasure were stacked here and there. Looking closer, Hawke saw that the walls were lined with alcoves each one blocked with a door, and whatever Kruger wanted with them he’d done it, because now he was preparing to move out and he had a large smile on his face.

  “All right” Kruger barked. “Prepare to move everyone out!”

  Across the room Luk and Kamchatka were hauling a trunk out of one of the alcoves and moving it toward the entrance. The South African’s eyes glazed with rage when he saw them.

  “What are you fools doing?” As he asked, Van Zyl swung his gun over his shoulder and moved out of sight.

  “What do you think they’re doing?” Korać said, his voice dripping with contempt. “They want to get paid for their trouble. We all do… and maybe there is no Atlantis!”

  Kruger was staggered. “No Atlantis? Don’t you see it? This temple is where people would stop and pray before travelling across the sea to Atlantis. These symbols are coordinates to Atlantis, you fool! This place proves there was an Atlantis. What do you think I’ve been doing for the last ten minutes?”

  Khatibi and Ryan shared a glance.

  “Now!’ Kruger said sharply. “Get the bomb rigged and then destroy this whole place!”

  “What about the bags of treasure?” Korać said.

  “Yes what about that?” said Luk. “Like we said, we still want to get paid for our trouble.”

  Kruger got up in his face and grabbed him by the collar. “Don’t give me any of that crap, domkop! I’m not frightened of you and your little knife. You’ll get paid when the job is done.”

  Kruger released him and pushed him back against the rocky wall and then turned to the others. “Forget the fucking treasure. It’s nothing compared with what we’ll find at Atlantis.”

  As he spoke, Korać placed a bomb the size of a football inside the furthest alcove and activated it. “We have ten minutes to get well away from here and then it’s all nothing but dust.”

  “Shit,” Camacho said. “That looks nasty.”

  “What do you mean?” Lea asked.

  “Not liking the look of that bomb at all,” he repeated. “Looks like it might have a motion sensor on it.”

  “And you look like dead men walking.”

  They turned to see Van Zyl bearing down on them with a submachine gun. Without alerting Kruger or Korać to their presence, he moved his finger off the guard and swung the gun into Hawke’s face.

  “Get up, you pigs.”

  Hawke and the others slowly got to their feet and raised their hands in the air.

  “Look what I found!” Van Zyl called out.

  Kruger looked over and sneered at them. “Got you bastards at last… wait – is that you, Maati?”

  Khatibi looked at his boots for a moment before raising his head. “Yes, Dirk.”

  “What are you doing with these people?”

  “Richard and I are trying to stop you from desecrating this temple!”

  “Richard – you don’t mean Richard Eden?”

  Khatibi nodded and Lea stepped forward. “We work for Richard Eden, and he’s told us all about you. We’re not going to let you destroy this place and we’re certainly not going to let you plunder Atlantis.”

  Kruger laughed. “I’ve heard everything now. You bastards work for Dickie Eden! Jesus Christ.” He turned back to the alcoves and then spoke over his shoulder. “Willem – take Mr Khatibi out to the trucks and make sure he’s secured. Mr Korać – keep the rest of these bastards under guard while I finish up.”

  Van Zyl removed Khatibi while Korać approached Hawke.

  But he got too close, and the Englishman reacted in an explosion of defensive moves, throwing a handful of grit into Korać’s face and grabbing the muzzle of the weapon simultaneously. The gun went off, firing the rounds into the floor of the temple and spitting up clouds of dust and rock chips.

  Lea screamed and Ryan brought his hands up to cover his ears as Van Zyl slipped away and took cover.

  Kruger spun around and his eyes darted over to the fracas at the entrance to the temple. He pointed at them haughtily. “Kill them!”

  Then a fire fight exploded all around them with both sides taking cover as they fired on each other for control of the temple.

  “I need another clip!” Ryan shouted.

  “Here,” Camacho said and threw one over. “And it’s a magazine, son. No one’s used clips for about seventy years.”

  With limited rounds the gunfight was over in minutes, and that meant only one thing. A number of Korać’s men rushed them and things broke down into a hand-to-hand combat situation. Judging by the tattoo on his shoulder which read СПЕЦНАЗ, Hawke’s opponent was a former Spetsnaz soldier. Russian Special Forces were trained well and fiercely aggressive, but Hawke was former SBS and that meant he had the edge and he knew it.

  The man kicked things off by pulling a ballistic knife from his belt and lunging forward at Hawke’s face. The Englishman pulled his head back and simultaneously brought up his left arm to block the knife from coming any further. He disarmed the man with one hand and thrust a punch upwards into his jaw. The man fell backwards and struck his head on the wall.

  All across the cavern the fighting was intense. Maria Kurikova blocked her opponent’s onslaught and immediately brought up a counter-strike into the base of his jaw. The man moved back to dodge her attack, so her punch landed in his windpipe. His eyes widened in shock as he realized he couldn’t breath and it gave the Russian spy the only chance she needed. She brought her right boot up hard and fast into his balls and his instinct sent him doubling over, just as she knew it would. She brought her left knee up into his face and knocked him out cold.

  Scarlet was fighting hard closer to the entrance, bringing her knee-length boot up to her opponent’s groin and showing less mercy than Vlad the Impaler. He collapsed to the floor in a howling mess, dropping his guard long enough for the former SAS woman to send him off to sleep with a speedy palm strike.

  “I cannot believe you crushed his giggleberries like that,” Ryan said. “It’s just not right.”

  “Anything goes when you’re over a barrel,” she said.

  “Said the archdeacon to the understudy,” Ryan replied.

  “Reasonably amusing for you, but don’t think it makes you funny. You’re not.”

  “Gotcha.”

  A second man stormed over to Hawke and drew back a knife ready to attack. Hawke stumbled over an unconscious man and fell on his back. The man seized the advantage and jumped on him, raising the knife. Hawke strained against the man’s arm as he plunged the knife down and inched the tip of the blade closer to his eye. He grunted with the effort of stopping the knife from plunging into his eye, and he felt the blood pound in his ears as he pushed himself to the max to fight off the heavier man.

  With the blade now less than an inch from his eye, and above it the grinning, sweating face of the Serbian merc as he mocked him, Hawke was starting to think he was in trouble, when suddenly a startled, froze
n look of surprise flashed on the Serb’s face and he released the knife before collapsing in a heap on the floor beside the Englishman.

  The man rolled off him to reveal Lexi standing behind him, this time holding not a lampshade but a fist-sized rock.

  “Thanks. I owe you.”

  “You know how you can pay me back.”

  Hawke gave her a look, rolled over and leapt to his feet. “Give it a rest, Lexi.”

  “You can’t blame a girl for trying.”

  Hawke looked up to see Kruger and Korać fleeing from the cave. They had what they wanted and were evacuating as fast as they could.

  “He’s getting away!” he yelled, his mind racing. He ran over to the alcove and saw the bomb now had less than seven minutes. “Jack – try and get this bomb defused and save this place if you can. Ryan – work out what Kruger was up to if possible and then everyone get the hell out of here. I’m going after that son of a bitch.”

  “And I’m right there wit’ ya!” Lea said.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Alex Reeve was taking a break in the Elysium headquarters building. With Hawke and the others damn near getting themselves killed like a bunch of amateurs on the Dadès River, Kruger slipping the net once again with his hired thugs and her father’s first televised presidential debate coming up in just a few hours she could feel the pressure rising. One glance down at her wheelchair sealed the deal and she pulled a Coke from the fridge and rolled herself out into the tropical breeze for some important Time Out.

  The Coke was bad which is why it tasted good, and she took a long drink before setting the can down on the low wall which separated the compound’s north lawn from the beach. To say she had fallen in love with this place was an understatement but she could already feel the long, cold shadow of Washington DC approaching her.

  She could be accused of many things but naivety wasn’t one of them. She knew what fate awaited the immediate family of a President of the United States and it wasn’t good. The United States Secret Service was charged with protecting the First Family and there was a persistent fear among them of something happening to a member of the President’s family.

  The Constitution was amazingly prescient in its content, and there was provision built into it in case of a crisis. That provision was the Twenty-Fifth Amendment, used several times in the past, including the succession of Gerald Ford to the Presidency after Nixon’s resignation and the appointment of Nelson Rockefeller to the Vice Presidency, both in 1974. Most recently, and dramatically it was invoked after President Grant was kidnapped by the madman Klaus Kiefel on his rampage across America during the Medusa attacks. That had put the traitor Teddy Kimble in the Oval Office.