Matt Drake Book 9 - The Plagues of Pandora

by David Leadbeater

  “They intend to weaponize an ancient plague?” Mai suddenly declared as if waking up. “Are they mad?”

  “If they are all like General Stone,” Lauren put in, “they’re off-their-head crazy, depraved sons-of bitches. No conscience.”

  Smyth patted her shoulder to help settle her nerves.

  “But also immensely powerful,” Hayden said. “Let’s not forget that.”

  Hayden started as the landline rang. “I’ve already put in a call to Robert Price,” she said for the latecomers’ benefit, referring to the new Secretary of Defense. “I want authorization to move immediately on this, and to move big time.”

  Hayden spoke fast, bringing the Secretary up to speed. “Everything we have is essentially unverifiable, sir, but it’s actually rock solid.”

  “You realize that’s two total extremes don’t you?” Price knew that she did and went on, “Anything further as to what happened in Drago?”

  Drake knew he was referring to the “house on the hill” atrocity. The entire US was united in tracking down its perpetrators, from the highest level of government to the lowliest step above the worst of the social media trolls.

  “No, sir.”

  “All right. Do we know where they’ll hit first?”

  Hayden coughed. “Excuse me, sir, but that’s one of the reasons I called you so quickly. We believe they’re going to hit all three at the same time.”

  Price was struck dumb for a moment, then: “The Pythians are hitting three major cities at once? Do they have that kind of manpower? That kind of organizational ability?”

  “General Stone, despite his failings, is a first-class strategist. And who knows who else they have on their payroll?”

  “Of course, of course. Jesus, this is going to get very big, very fast. I’m going to have to make some international calls, smooth out some rough ground. How are we for manpower? Homeland. The FBI. Do you need teams?”

  “We believe we’ll be okay for now, sir. We have people in mind, but a high alert in the targeted cities would be appreciated.”

  “After I convey this information the entire world will be on high alert.”

  “Right now, that’s not a bad thing, sir.”

  Price’s voice took on a tense strain. “I’m also assuming you want Stone left alone?”

  “It’s the best way. He’s still our best way into their inner circle.”

  Drake tuned out as Mai drifted over. The Japanese woman’s eyes were downcast, her bearing lackluster. “What’s the problem, love?”

  “I can’t get Grace out of my mind.”

  “Her past is not as rosy as she wanted but we can’t change that. And we’ll help her through it all. It’s bloody bad timing too.”

  Mai stared. “What do you mean, bad timing?”

  Drake didn’t back down. He knew his words hadn’t been spoken maliciously. “Haven’t you been paying attention? Catastrophe is on the loose and heading to town with a mean motherfucking attitude, leaving nothing but destruction in its wake. We have to deal with that, Mai.”

  “We’re always dealing with that, Matt. Don’t you remember Babylon? Hawaii? My goddamn trip to Tokyo?”

  Drake pulled her aside, feeling the others beginning to take an interest as Mai’s voice rose. “You never did fully explain that trip. What happened?”

  “I told you. Weren’t you paying attention?”

  “I don’t believe you murdered a man, Mai. The term implies intent and desire to kill. He wasn’t an innocent, by your own admission. Did you even have a choice?”

  Mai glanced up at him from beneath her brows. “That’s the problem, Matt. I did have a choice. I could have left Tokyo. I could have said no, abandoned the search for my parents.”

  “But he was your only way into the Tsugarai.”

  Mai nodded. “He was.”

  “And you rescued Grace, and others besides.”

  “And he also had a daughter. A son. A wife.”

  “He was playing with their lives the second he accepted blood and drug money from bad people.”

  “Some people have no choice.”

  Drake fell silent, realizing Mai was referencing her own parents and how they had initially sold her to survive life with their first-born daughter, Chika. He was arguing a losing battle. No way could he win this.

  All of a sudden he realized Hayden was talking to him. “. . . as soon as you can.”

  He blinked rapidly. “What?”

  Dahl shook his head. “Ask him again. Takes a bit of processing for a Northerner.”

  Drake didn’t even register the insult as Hayden again asked him to make the call to Crouch and Alicia. “We need them now,” she said. “If they’re not in place soon they may be too late.”

  Drake nodded, taking out his phone. Enough impossible questions, theories and bad tidings were amassing to give him a headache. Crouch was essentially working for himself these days and wouldn’t jump in to help unless he believed things were deadly serious. Maybe what he really needed was a chat with Alicia. That might help release the tension a little.

  But he didn’t feel comfortable enough to cross blades with the feisty heroine right now.

  A man’s voice answered his call. He spoke in highly stressed tones. “Are you free? Are you finished?”

  Crouch paused a second, then said: “We are.”

  “Then we need you. I mean, all of you, and more. This Pandora thing’s gone intercontinental; we’re fighting a war in four countries now.”

  “What?”

  “Drake?” Alicia’s tones floated over the connection. “You’re not making any sense.”

  Drake gripped the bridge of his nose. “It’s the end of the world, Alicia. The plagues of Pandora. The Pythians are everywhere. We’re losing. This is going to take every single resource, every ounce of brainpower, every grain of courage. We’re all going to get bloody or dead on this one, Alicia.”

  “We’ve faced Armageddon before, and recently. More than once.”

  “Not like this.” Drake felt as troubled as he’d ever been in his life. “Something this big comes along just once in a lifetime. Survival isn’t even on the bloody menu. Saving our society, that’s all that matters.”

  Alicia went quiet, seemingly lost for words. Drake then heard her say: “We have to help them.”

  Crouch spoke again, his voice as resolute as iron and stone. “My team is all yours, Matt. What do you need?”

  Drake thought about what Hayden, Price and Lauren had already brought to the table. “First of all head to Europe. You’ll be our response team there. We’re in the process of appointing others.”

  “Europe’s a big place, mate,” some smartass put in. Drake didn’t recognize the voice.

  “I realize that. We don’t have the right intel yet, it’s a fluid operation. Start with Rome. I want you on the mainland.”

  Hayden stared at him. “Why Rome?”

  He cupped the mouthpiece. “Pretty central. Who knows, the Pythians could even now be leading us up the garden path. If it turns out to be Paris, Crouch can make the hour-long trip on SPEAR’s coin.”

  “Done,” Crouch said. “I’ll be in touch when we’ve landed.”

  “Thank you. Oh, and guys?”

  “Yes?”

  “If you have loved ones and relatives, I’d call them before you land.”

  Drake ended the call, meeting the eyes of everyone in the room. “What?” he said. “Don’t you feel it too? This is pure fight or die. We’ve been here before, more than once, and I remember every ounce of pain and anxiety and emotion. Every time-sensitive heartbeat.”

  The way they all nodded, as solemn as men facing a firing squad, showed him that they felt the same way.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Hours later, and the SPEAR team was again in touch with Crouch.

  Hayden had waited until the ex-Ninth-Division man’s team were cocooned inside a fast jet with full audio and undivided attention before relating all the details. The SPEAR team w
ere working hard inside their HQ, gathering all and any information on everything that might relate to the mission.

  “We’re heading to London shortly,” she said. “But despite what we know, we’re still working almost blind. London is a city built on bones; there are dozens of plague pits. Why do the Pythians keep referring to a Pandora plague? How does it all fit? There are clues here, we just have to solve them.”

  “Can I just clarify . . .” a young woman’s voice spoke over the connection. “And sorry, this is Caitlyn Nash. When you say plague pits you’re talking bubonic plague, yes? Like from the Black Death and half the world’s population wiped out?”

  “The very same, Miss Nash,” Dahl said. “And may I say, very nice to meet you.”

  Drake snorted. “Get out of her pants, Dahl. You’ve enough on your plate satisfying one female.”

  “I meant nothing . . . I’m happily—”

  Drake shook his head. “God, you’re such an easy target.”

  Alicia broke into their banter with typical aplomb. “Cut it out, you two. Never bloody changes does it? Besides, I get first crack at Miss Nash.”

  “Jesus.” Smyth looked like his legs were about to collapse beneath him. Lauren turned to stare. “You carry me out of a battle zone . . . on your back . . . and that makes you weak? Men!”

  Smyth turned bright red. “I . . . I . . . damn.”

  Caitlyn’s voice drew them back to harsh reality. “And what exactly do we know about the Pandora myth? Mostly it’s related to the box, which was a lethal gift of the gods to mankind. They say Pandora was the first woman, a punishment from Zeus in retaliation for Prometheus stealing fire from the gods and giving it to men. Pandora was fashioned from clay, a beautiful goddess, then each god gave her a virtue—grace, boldness, persuasion, curiosity, and more.”

  Hayden stopped her. “Why do we need to know all this?” Karin, the SPEAR team’s own resident genius, nodded in agreement even though she had probably been about to launch into a similar monologue.

  “Because it leads us into how all the sins of the world were loosed and how they might relate to what we’re up against.”

  Hayden pursed her lips in surprise. “Okay.”

  “Using the name Pandora could be anything from the Pythians employing a simple code word to them using the entire myth as clues to something . . .”

  “Really?” This time Crouch interrupted, sounding interested.

  “Of course. Megalomaniacs love revealing their intentions, even if it’s in the form of a riddle. Anyway, once formed the gods gave Pandora a box and told her not to open it.”

  Drake made a face. Smyth laughed. Even Dahl grimaced. “Not the best plan.”

  “No. And Pandora was tempted, just like Eve with the apple. Do you see now? Pandora is an origin myth. Just like Adam and Eve.”

  “An origin myth that’s also an apocalypse myth?” Karin wondered.

  “Now you’re with me. Anyway, they say Pandora pretty much invented the phrase ‘curiosity killed the cat’. She opened the box and let loose evil and plague upon the world. Crime. Poverty. Pain. Hunger. Sickness. Vice.”

  “I understand.” Karin said. “You’re saying the code word Pandora relates to one of these vices, particularly sickness I would think, and that her story may provide more clues.”

  “Exactly. Everything from an origin or apocalypse myth to reasons and locations.”

  “We’ll start with the plague pits,” Crouch asserted. “I think somebody should also start investigating how someone might be able to weaponize ancient bubonic plague.”

  Karin patted Komodo’s arm. “We can do that. And we already have all agencies tracking down the other Pythians that were named.”

  Hayden signed off with a muted goodbye. She turned to address the room. “The pure, uncaring evil of this staggers me. Even today, when we know what goes on in many parts of the world. Even now, I am stunned that wealthy, learned people, no doubt many with families of their own, can do this.”

  “A boy born into power, wealth and privilege does not necessarily find it easy to accept,” Dahl said quietly. “He’s born into a predetermined world with predetermined values. He has no freedom, no boyhood or youth. He’s expected to follow a requisite path, laid down by his father and their forefathers. One day . . . he may rebel.”

  Drake blinked at the Swede’s words. “That sounds like it came from the heart, mate.”

  “I was privileged,” Dahl said. “And I rebelled. How else do you think I came to be here?”

  Drake shrugged softly. “Always wondered why that fancy accent didn’t come with an officer’s placement.”

  “Because I became my own man. And went my own way.”

  Hayden stared at Dahl. “That doesn’t give anyone the right to commit genocide.”

  Dahl glared right back. “Don’t you think I know that? I’m right here beside you, fighting the same fight, remember?”

  Kinimaka came forward and put a massive arm around their boss’s shoulders. “Everything all right, Hay?”

  Hayden sighed. “I think I need more painkillers.”

  Drake stared around the room. “I think the feeling’s pretty universal.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Tyler Webb straightened his laptop, taking care to precisely align each side so it was perpendicular to the edges of his dark oak table, before clicking a button and settling back into his sumptuous seat.

  “We are the Pythians,” he said. “What news have you?”

  Five mini-screens sat before his eyes, each one filled with the face of a fellow conspirator. This was the first time they had tried video-link, but summoning every member in person whenever they needed a meeting was fast becoming problematic, not to mention annoying.

  “Threat level has risen in the three plague cities,” General Stone reported. “No credible reason as to why.”

  Webb detected an underlying tone but let it go. Perhaps the general was pushed for time or, more likely, irritated at being turned into Nicholas Bell’s nursemaid. “Don’t they have ways of monitoring chatter?” Webb said off-handedly with a tired gesture. “The threat level goes up and down all the time as a response. I shouldn’t need to tell you that, Stone.”

  “Sure.”

  “And that’s by no means a bad thing,” Miranda Le Brun said smoothly. “Makes the game all the more interesting.”

  “Since the factory is now up and running,” Webb continued. “I think it important that one or two of us oversee the operation. Yes, yes, I know it’s a long flight over there but the task will help stop boredom setting in. With that in mind I was thinking—Miranda and Nicholas? What do you think?”

  Bell was quick to jump in. “I’m happy to do that!”

  Webb concealed a smile. Perhaps the builder was as exasperated with Stone as the general clearly was with him.

  Le Brun smoothed her hair. “I suppose so,” she said with an air of tedium. “Anything to help the cause.”

  Webb could have happily throttled her, but calmed his anger. The Pythians were working surprisingly well together, and Le Brun herself was up soon with her own little project. If she didn’t prove herself then perhaps his most recent fantasy could become a blissful reality. Of course, he thought. You don’t simply throttle someone, even Le Brun. You have to tenderize them first. Make them afraid. Derail their life.

  Stalk them.

  “Once the factory is productive,” he went on quickly. “We will need another meeting by the . . . falls. In the tower.” Despite the highest security allowing real name references and the net of secrecy cast over their campaigns, Webb still remained cagey about referencing his exact location over the wires.

  Stone was talking off-screen, most likely to Bell, and turned back. “Sorry, it’s not like Bell and Le Brun have jobs is it? Maybe they should both stop trying to pretend they’re doing us a huge favor by . . . flying over there.”

  Webb sighed. “All right. Are we really bickering now? General—you are a public figure. Un
til you’re compromised—which we all hope is many years from now—you should remain in that position. I don’t have to remind you how helpful it’s already been to our cause.”

  “Yes, sure. I’m good.”

  “In the end,” Webb made sure he kept the floor, “thousands or even hundreds of thousands may die to further our cause. But for now, let’s look at our upcoming projects.” His observations were mere gusts of air, of no real consistence and without conscience, meaningless figures to the ears that listened. “So sayeth the king of maniacs,” he then added with a harsh laugh. “Glossing over the facts, making light of the crushed bodies we will trample beneath our feet, ignoring their pain and suffering. But hasn’t it always been that way?”

  “Amen,” Le Brun said heartily.

  “The weak will be crushed beneath our boots like dying leaves,” Stone said, a little too flamboyantly for Webb’s taste.

  “You mentioned our upcoming projects?” Robert Norris, the SolDyn exec, checked his watch. “I have a meeting I just can’t get out of in fifteen.”

  A little deflated, Webb understood the exec’s dilemma. “It’s fine. We’ll talk in more depth later. Just to say that Clifford’s ‘lost kingdom’ theory is already bearing fruit and Miranda’s ‘galleons’ concept, if it proves to be true, sounds utterly intriguing—”

  “I’ve always been fascinated by them,” Le Brun put in.

  “Galleons?” Stone asked with an arched smile.

  “These particular galleons,” Le Brun said. “You’ll see.”

  “And over all,” Webb said grandly, “Saint Germain. The Wonderman. The occultist. The Prince of Transylvania. The philosopher—”

  “Can we get on?” Norris asked.

  Webb fought down an even stronger urge to throttle someone. “. . . and the greatest adventurer with more treasures, relics and artefacts than any man, any museum, has ever known,” he finished as if he’d been meaning to conclude that way. “Which have never . . . ever . . . been found.”

  “Fantastic,” Stone said drily. “The sooner we can get three or four of these undertakings going at once the happier I will be about the final scheme.”