The Amber Secret

by David Leadbeater

  But then the noise faded away.

  A moment later he looked up and was greeted by a scene from a madman’s dream. The dislodged flashlights were now shining their beams in haphazard disarray; shafts of light speared through the cave in all directions. A cloud of dust billowed from wall to wall and up to the ceiling, hitting rock and rolling back on itself.

  The plastic explosives just beyond Cassidy’s reach were intact.

  From the random light he could see many of the ledges had lost their treasures. Boxes and sheets and ripped parchments were heaped upon the cave floor. Two of the eighteen crates had split asunder. Bodie couldn’t tell much more. Slowly, he moved, feeling fire in his wrists as sore, broken skin rubbed rope and sharp plastic.

  He reached out. “Heidi, you okay?”

  “I’m not dead, so that’s a good start.”

  Small chunks of rubble spilled from his back as he sat up. At his request everyone, including Caruso, sounded off that they were alive and injury-free. There was a lot of coughing and choking and groans of pain, but they had survived.

  “What happened?” Pantera wondered.

  Galvanized by the thought that R24 could be upon them at any minute, he fought his bonds. “It might be wishful thinking, but check that rope.”

  “The one that was attached to the top of the crate?” Cassidy asked. “Yeah, I got it here.” She held the loose end in her right hand.

  “You’re free?”

  “We’re all free, dumbass. Just gotta find something to cut these zip ties.”

  Bodie crawled with her, determined to help. Together, they found the sharpest old knife—a Nazi bayonet attachment. Bodie turned his back on her and held it firmly with the blade sticking out. Cassidy rubbed the ties along it, missing twice and cursing in pain. Eventually, though, her zip ties broke. She took the blade, sawed through the plastic that bound her legs, and then turned to Bodie.

  One by one, as those released picked up knives, everyone in the cave freed each other. Bodie worked soundlessly at first, squinting against the dust and watching the walls carefully for further rockfalls, but Yasmine’s next question made him take note.

  “Why didn’t these charges detonate? The wires are still attached.”

  “Something went wrong. Maybe they came loose farther along. Heidi and Cass, cover the tunnel. Get ready for Gurka and his pals coming back.”

  The two readied knives and ran into position. Yasmine and Pantera joined them, treading carefully. Bodie assumed they were experiencing the same loss of balance he was and took a moment to hold himself still.

  Then he rose, taking a last look at the dead Dudyk and wondering what might have happened to Lucie. In a few moments, the whole group was waiting at the tunnel entrance.

  “Ready?” Cassidy asked.

  “Are you?” Bodie caught her eyes, questioning her insecurities of the last few weeks.

  “More than ever,” she said confidently. “This is how Cross would want me to go on.”

  She was first into the tunnel, Bodie a step behind. They traversed the passage carefully and emerged into the larger cavern on the other side. Bodie stopped short when he viewed the scene beyond.

  It was a wrecked and ruined tableau, a nightmare of war memory. The old Junkers was ripped apart and spread all over the cavern. Its body, tail, and cockpit had been burned and singed, half-melted. Shattered boulders and sharp rocks lay everywhere.

  And there were bodies too.

  Smashed against the wall of the cave, as if propelled there by the hand of a violent giant, two were spread eagled against the rock wall, while two others lay crumpled at its base. Their clothes were blackened and flesh burned to ruin by the explosion. Bodie winced but had to be sure. The whole team walked toward the lifeless remains.

  “Belenko and Vash,” Cassidy said, halting. “I can tell by what’s left of their clothing and their size. I see Gurka too.”

  “The woman?” Jemma asked with trepidation.

  “Has to be Nina . . . oh, wait . . .”

  Bodie flinched. The woman’s body was badly burned, the hair gone and part of the skull. From the height and build it might be Nina, but it could also be Lucie.

  “Wait here,” he told them. “I’ll check.”

  “Not alone, you won’t.” Cassidy walked with him, and he soon realized that Heidi was a step behind. Yasmine too. Together, slowing, they approached the body. Bodie’s heart was hammering faster than when he’d been awaiting the explosion.

  “I can’t believe you’re checking on the enemy first,” said a prim, clipped voice, “instead of the girl who saved your asses.”

  Bodie spun and saw Lucie immediately, standing amid the wreckage of the plane. She was leaning heavily on a seat, face and body blackened, clothes tattered, but she was standing—and she was okay.

  Pantera was past Bodie and at her side quickly, helping her out of the wreckage and assisting her to a boulder. With a flourish, he swept it clean.

  “Your seat.”

  “What happened?” Gunn asked. “What did you do?”

  Bodie listened to the tale as the dust settled, as the mountain ceased rumbling, and as the noises of approaching soldiers filtered through the cave’s front entrance. As they came closer, he managed a wry smile at Heidi.

  “You?” he asked. “Or me?” He was asking who would stave off the soldiers’ initial assault and start running them through what had happened.

  Heidi linked her arm with his and dragged him along. “Let’s go together.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  From an open, clear, and essentially boundless vantage point, Bodie felt freedom for the first time in a week. With Heidi at his side, they were still being questioned by the CIA suits, but the open air, the vast views, and the lack of guards felt like a slice of heaven.

  Heidi handled most of the questions. The entire process was made easier by her knowing one of the questioners and, of course, by her superiors vouching for them back at Langley. Bodie took the time to relax, to test his wounds, to stretch out his muscles and bask in the warm, healing rays of the sun.

  “This feels good,” he said, sitting back. “Bloody good.”

  The rest of the team was sprawled out close by, across the foothills of the mountains. CIA agents wearing flak jackets and camo and carrying semiautomatic weapons walked between them. Others manned the perimeter, watching the open valley, the mountains to both sides, and the choppers. Reinforcements and archaeology experts had already been called in to assess the monumental find.

  The first thing Lucie did on seeing the authorities was relay to them the address where Caruso’s family was being held. The information was passed along, and even now, thirty minutes later, a rescue operation was underway. Caruso couldn’t stop pacing and wringing his hands, and the team took turns standing with him.

  As soon as it seemed appropriate, Bodie asked the main guy, a mop-haired thirtysomething who Heidi called Carl, if they knew anything about the battle on the other side of the valley.

  “Friends of yours?” Carl asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “Not exactly,” Bodie said, and Heidi laughed. “But they did help us out, and I’d like to see them leave here alive. And free.”

  “Which ones?”

  “Not the mercenaries,” Bodie said.

  “Ah, well, if the mercs were wearing military fatigues, carrying HKs, face masks, and all the best gear, then they’re all dead. The other guys—a mishmash of shapes and sizes, some wearing jeans, others chinos, all of them sporting the tattoos of a particular Russian brotherhood—are doing pretty well.”

  “Still up there?” Heidi asked.

  “Yeah, haven’t moved. Feels like they’re waiting for something.”

  Bodie nodded. The freedom of the day started to recede. It hadn’t lasted long. “They are,” he said softly. “Me.”

  He wanted to go alone, but the entire team insisted on accompanying him. Without haste, they walked across the valley floor, bypassing the silent chop
pers, forged the narrow river, and then started up the same easy pass that R24’s mercenaries had used to launch their attack. It was a relatively short walk, and not without trepidation, but Bodie thought he knew how the Bratva worked by now and wasn’t unduly worried.

  First, they would be waiting to see which team of relic hunters had survived. The Bratva bosses would have different plans for R24 than they would for Bodie’s crew.

  Hopefully.

  Second, they would want to finish their business with Bodie once and for all. Lay everything to rest.

  They reached the cliff top as the sun began to dim in the west, and they headed inland, seeing the Bratva camp up ahead. It wasn’t far and consisted of a small group of tents around one large campfire. Bodie wondered if they’d had any issues with wolves or panthers as he approached but decided not to broach the subject.

  The first man he saw was the bearded giant he remembered speaking to him at the battle. Cassidy had already pointed out that they were being watched from cover, but it didn’t matter.

  “I am Alexei,” the man said as he approached. “And you are Guy Bodie.”

  They met where several obstinate tufts of brush created a miniature forest amid a stretch of barren, brown land. Both men’s boots kicked up dust as they came to an abrupt stop.

  “You look the worse for wear, my friend,” Alexei laughed.

  Bodie nodded wryly. “As do you,” he said, looking over the big man’s bandaged arms and two gashes along his left temple. “Was it a good fight?”

  “Ah, they were American pussies,” Alexei guffawed. “Went down like weak Russian vodka.”

  “They weren’t all American,” Cassidy said. “I remember hearing a couple of British soldiers too.”

  “Even easier.” Alexei grinned. “They were your cheap supermarket vodka, nothing more.”

  Cassidy smiled back, and Bodie turned to show he wasn’t armed. “We’re here to talk.”

  “Of course. You must come with me. First, we wrestle, and then we eat. Then we drink. And then, if we’re still able, we will talk.”

  “First we . . . what?”

  Alexei ushered them past the tent line and over toward the large campfire. A man was already lighting it, tending the flames. The sun was at their backs, glowing orange as it sank between the peaks. The evening was still and burnished and beautiful. The Bratva gathered around, some eyeing the newcomers suspiciously, others with distaste, and still others with a quiet acceptance. The first wrestling match was taken by the Bratva, two strong soldiers who whipped off their shirts and set about flinging each other left and right close to the flickering flames. When they were done, they shared vodka, spitting a mouthful each into the flames before swallowing three more.

  Bodie and his team found themselves relaxing in the Bratva’s company, an odd turn of fate but a welcome one. Soon, it was Bodie’s turn to wrestle, and despite voicing his reluctance, he climbed to his feet to face a small man with strong, thick arms. The Russian pulled his shirt over his head. Bodie did the same.

  Instantly, Cassidy let out a wolf whistle. “Hey, put it away, man. That should come with a health warning.”

  Heidi laughed out loud. “Yeah, cut down on your doughnut intake.”

  “You wanna borrow my body, pal?” Pantera catcalled.

  Bodie ignored them all. “What are the rules—” he began.

  But the short man was on him before he’d finished speaking, wrapping those arms around his chest in a grip of iron. Bodie felt all the air leave his body and fought with every screaming muscle he had left, but he couldn’t break the hold. When he sank to his knees, the short man pulled away and cheered, reaching out for the vodka.

  Bodie swallowed it too, relishing the smooth taste.

  “That is Southern Cross,” Alexei bellowed. “The best that Dmitry Kovalenko ever made, bless his cold, dead soul.”

  Bodie knew the name but didn’t have the strength to remember why. Slowly, he staggered back to his people and slipped his T-shirt back on. Alexei held out spread hands to them.

  “Anyone else?”

  Their lack of movement made him guffaw and turn to his own men. “They are all pussies, yes?”

  Laughter rang out. Some slapped the ground with open palms. It stopped abruptly when Cassidy stood up. “Feed me first,” she said. “And then I’ll take you out, Alexei. And I don’t mean to dinner.”

  There was a shocked silence, but then Alexei roared his approval. Meat was found and roasted over the campfire. More vodka was passed around. Bodie began to feel comfortably numb as full night fell and the smell of roasting meats made his mouth water.

  As they ate, Alexei sat down beside him.

  “You eat and drink to end our feud,” the Russian told him. “It is good between us now.”

  “And Jack?”

  “The bald one is free also. And his family. But you must remember the matter of your onetime debt is yet to be settled. And the Bratva will not take no for an answer. And it might only be you, not your team.”

  Bodie remembered they had demanded he do them a single service at some time in the future. The knowledge that he might have to do it without his friends raised new implications and ambiguities. He didn’t like it. “Will it be legal?”

  Alexei slapped the ground hard and guffawed. “That depends on which country you are from and which authority you work for, my friend. One man’s crime is another’s act of necessity. Today, the CIA love you. Tomorrow . . . who knows?”

  “Good point. And thank you . . . my friend.”

  They toasted and ate. The night wore on. Cassidy put up a great performance against Alexei and earned his respect before he dumped her unceremoniously on her ass. Grinning and calling for more, he pulled her to her feet, but she held up a hand.

  “Another time,” she said. “Another place. I’ve gained one too many bruises during the last few days to make this a fair match. Whaddya say, Alexei? I’ll kick your ass later?”

  The bearded Russian grinned and shook her hand. “I’ll kick your ass later.”

  Around him, Bodie knew his team was content. They sat close to each other. Only Lucie sat with a downcast expression. Heidi shouted in joy when Carl called her to say his team in Germany had safely rescued Caruso’s wife and child. They were fine. Alexei gave them a card, stating that if they ever needed a hand, he would be there.

  It was then that he saw her—the black-haired woman from the earlier battle. She stalked toward him now, a dripping sponge in one hand, a wickedly curved blade in the other.

  “I have never seen her without a weapon,” Alexei said in matter-of-fact tones. “Even when she makes love.”

  Bodie shuffled, unable to take his eyes from her as she approached, finally zeroing in on him.

  “I am Tamara,” she said. “I saw you at the battle. I like you.”

  She slipped fluidly into a seated position at his side, blocking Heidi out, and gave him a winning smile.

  Bodie started to answer but found the words catching in his throat. Pantera chuckled as he tried again.

  “Oh, hi . . . I’m . . . well . . .”

  “You don’t know?” Tamara leaned close to his face and started dabbing at the cuts and bruises with the sponge. The cold water felt good, the attention even better. Bodie grinned and let her work. When he heard Heidi’s grunt of disapproval, the grin wavered, but only a little.

  “Do we all get a turn?” the curly-haired agent asked.

  Tamara turned and said sweetly, “Would you like a turn?” before rising slowly and making her way back to a tent. Close to the entrance, she turned and smiled at Bodie.

  Yasmine also soaked cuts and bruises with a towel and water to Bodie’s left. As he pretended not to notice Tamara, Yasmine caught his eye.

  “Lucien next,” Yasmine said relentlessly. “He will pay for what he did to me and what he did to Cross.”

  “I promised you that back at the safe house,” he said, sitting back as Yasmine finished. “And I meant it then. Eve
n more now, because during this nightmare, you’ve proved yourself beyond any doubt.”

  “Thank you.” She nodded solemnly.

  “Don’t be humble,” Cassidy said. “We don’t accept people easily. You’ve earned it.”

  “I can help with Lucien,” Heidi said, shuffling forward so that Bodie could see her. “But all this talk of leaving the CIA has to stop.” She paused. “For now. It only breeds insecurity and undermines my position.”

  Bodie recalled their recent admissions. Was it because they had been about to die? Or was there much more to their relationship than a deathbed declaration?

  “Happy to stick around,” he said with purposeful double meaning, “and see what happens.”

  She understood and looked away, but not before he saw her smile. He took it as a sign to lean in and whisper, “What I said back in the cave . . .”

  She suddenly looked uncertain, innocent even. “Which bit?”

  He nudged her and grinned. “You know. I mean . . . a date. There’s a lot to consider.”

  “Yeah, I guess there is. Your gang. My bosses. Everyone’s future. And how you decide to deal with the CIA.”

  “Rain check?” he asked.

  “Maybe,” she said, “but I won’t be around forever.”

  The conversation reminded him of the Forever Gang and Darcey, the first girl he’d ever kissed. There was no great story, no special hook. He’d simply leaned over and kissed her lightly when they’d been in the dark, in the back row at the movies, because that was what a boy was supposed to do. It was a sweet, brief, innocent expression, never repeated. Who knew what might have happened between them in years to come if his parents hadn’t died a week later.

  Uncharted love, never explored. The knowledge of what might—and should—have been had left an everlasting burden on his heart.

  Always. Even now. He didn’t want that to happen between Heidi and him.

  “I’m going to find them,” he said quietly.