The Codex (An Armour of God Thriller Book 2)

by Daniel Patterson

  "Thank you, Mikkel," he shouted above the roar.

  "Of course, happy to help," Mikkel shouted back.

  They rolled down the runway, picking up speed, the landscape passing by the window faster and faster. Zack was pushed back into his seat as the plane lifted, the wheels pulling away from the tarmac. They were airborne.

  Zack watched the small airport building shrinking beneath them. He could almost make out the group of men who had been harassing the officers. They were standing in a circle, and it looked like they were laughing. The officers were nowhere to be seen. Zack had to smile. This was an adventure like none he'd ever experienced.

  Mikkel turned the plane into the sun, and they were off.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  THE FLIGHT FROM NUUK airport to Kulusuk airport was just under two hours, but it still took forever. What if they were too late? What if Sydney was already dead? He needed to focus on a plan. Father Giovanni had so much faith in him. He not only believed Zack would find what he was looking for—he also had faith in him to keep Sydney safe. He was on the verge of failing the father in both departments.

  He closed his eyes for a moment. Should he ask God for His help and guidance? It felt awkward, and he opened his eyes again. He hadn't prayed in so long. If God were the God he'd learned about from his parents, he hoped He would understand what Zack needed even though Zack didn't have the courage to ask.

  Mikkel brought the plane down on the tarmac with a bounce or two and was out the door as soon as the plane came to a complete stop. "Come, I have a friend. He's waiting for us. He'll get you geared up."

  Mikkel led the way to the helicopter where they were greeted by one of the hairiest men Zack had ever seen. His face was hidden by a large, bushy beard and tufts of hair peeked out of the ends of his sleeves, and around his collar. But, the man had a warm smile, and they took turns shaking hands.

  "This is Par, he's letting us use his helicopter."

  Zack thanked him for his help.

  "You'll find all the equipment you need in there," Par said, pointing to a wall in the hanger where red search and rescue outfits and gear hung. "Boots, jackets, pants, gloves, ropes. Help yourself. Mikkel's friends are our friends."

  It didn't take long to find what he needed. Getting dressed was still painful, but it wasn't as bad as when he first injured his shoulder.

  When he returned, Par and Mikkel were talking in their native tongue, and it appeared the two men were discussing the copter controls.

  Did Mikkel know how to fly this thing?

  If Zack wasn't mistaken the helicopter was a five-passenger Eurocopter. They were used for the search and rescue parties.

  "Don't look so worried," Mikkel said after they bid farewell to Par and the rotors on the helicopter began to spin. "It's not far now. I imagine they still need equipment, so I think we might have caught up with them."

  He was right, and his logical assumption released the knot of tension in Zack's stomach a little, and he was able to relax as the copter lifted off the ground. Zack pushed the memory of their previous trip and the trouble they'd had with the helicopter out of his mind. He'd survived then, he would survive now.

  "Mikkel, head to the Helheim Glacier moulin, but land half a mile or so away," Zack said. If Dingo's guys didn't find what they were looking for at the rescue site, chances were they had Sydney show them to the original moulin entrance.

  It was another twenty minutes from the Kulusuk airport to Helheim Glacier, but this time, the trip went a little smoother.

  Mikkel made good time, and before Zack could start worrying again, they were about a half-mile from the Helheim Glacier moulin. Mikkel brought the helicopter down gently on the icy surface. Zack grabbed a backpack out of the helicopter and opened it, examining the contents. Rope, flashlight, binoculars, and emergency food rations. He had everything he needed.

  "Wait here," he said and ducked under the still moving rotors. He began hiking toward the moulin in which he and Sydney had started.

  The air was cold and nipped at his cheeks and nose. It burned his lungs as he sucked it in, forcing him to cover his mouth the best he could. He walked at a brisk pace, and soon the cold was replaced with the heat of his exertion. He had to be careful to not sweat. The sweat could freeze, which would invite skin damage again.

  He walked for fifteen minutes before stopping and removing the binoculars from his pack. He held them to his eyes and scanned the landscape, squinting against the glare. A helicopter and three people came into his vision, and he adjusted the distance wheel until his view cleared.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  THE HELICOPTER WAS LARGE and had that military look to it. It was navy blue and had Politi written on the side in yellow letters, a Danish National Police helicopter.

  It was Dingo and Sydney.

  And Neilson.

  If Neilson was working with Dingo, that explained why he had been in such a hurry to get Zack out of the country. Neilson didn't want to preserve Greenland's heritage. He and Dingo wanted whatever treasures they might find all to themselves. And it was a safe bet that Neilson hadn't notified the Greenland National Museum of the discovery as he had claimed. Why would they want to keep a discovery of this magnitude a secret? They wouldn't. It didn't fit Neilson and Dingo's plans.

  Zack watched them for a moment. Dingo had a gun and was gesturing toward the moulin with it. Sydney stood on the edge, her face twisted in worry. She was shaking her head and saying something to the men, using her hands with plenty of animation as she spoke. Dingo stepped toward her and raised the gun to her forehead. Her hands immediately dropped to her side, her head bowed in resignation.

  Zack wanted to cry out, but couldn't risk the sound traveling across the snow. He peered through the binoculars again.

  Sydney was crouching down, fiddling with her safety harness. A few moments later she rose and walked to the mouth of the shaft. Two heads poked out of the moulin, belonging to Waterson and Ives. Of course. Dingo would never do the dirty work himself.

  As he watched, their heads disappeared back below the ice. Sydney turned, and with a last look up at the sky, began to lower herself after them. In three seconds, she was gone, sinking into the same moulin that had almost been her coffin just days ago.

  Zack turned around and started back toward the helicopter. His body shivered from the cold, and with the icy fingers of apprehension.

  He was too late.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  SYDNEY STOOD ON THE edge of the moulin, gazing down into the icy mouth that seemed intent on swallowing her whole. It looked hungry as if waiting for its next meal...

  Me want cookie! Feed me cookie, floated through her brain as the giant maw opened up toward her. I really needed to stop watching Sesame Street.

  Her attempt to lighten her mood was short-lived as dread settled onto her shoulders and desperation turned into lonely resignation. She had been lucky once. But that time she was with Zack. It felt like a lifetime ago. She'd been terrified then—their situation had seemed so bleak. It was so much worse now.

  She shivered. She was cloaked in layers of protection to guard against the freezing environment. It was the gun that left her frozen, the glint of steel that kept pointing in her direction.

  "Get a move on," Dingo barked, his deep voice growling his command.

  Waterson and Ives were in the moulin already, just beneath the surface. Waterson popped up, giving the signal that all was ready, and Sydney made one last attempt for them to see reason.

  "This is a suicide mission," she told them, waving her arms with each word. "If there was one cave-in, there will be another. With the global climate change, there is no insur—"

  She paused as Dingo stepped forward and pressed the barrel of the gun between her eyes. Her hands fell like dead weights to her sides. Her chin sank against her chest when he uttered, "Go."

  She knelt down to finish securing her harness, her heart threatening to beat right out of her chest. She'd told the
m about the cave-in, and they were taking extra safety measures, just for themselves, no doubt. They only needed to keep her safe until they got to the lost city.

  Zack had been so reassuring. He had made this trip an adventure. She'd learned so much about survival and staying alive in the field. Perhaps that experience would help her this time.

  She dawdled as long as was possible; now it was time to stand and face her fear. Before lowering herself into the hole, Sydney looked up into the sky, clutched her locket and said a prayer. "I look to you, Lord, for protection. I know I won't be disappointed. You do what is right, so come to my rescue. Listen to my prayer and keep me safe. Amen"

  In a few moments, she was below the ice. And soon her feet touched the slope where the moulin ran horizontal. This time, it didn't catch her off guard.

  They followed the moulin down and across. Waterson and Ives had their focus on the tunnel wrapping around them. They didn't want to be trapped down here, and Sydney whole-heartedly agreed.

  They came to the area where the tunnel had caved in around her and Zack. The mesmerizing glow of the minerals caught her attention again and, she ran her fingers across their surface. They were a pleasant distraction, for a moment. She welcomed anything that allowed her mind to drift from her present circumstances. No, she wouldn't think about the future. Only about the now and how this place was spectacular and rare and beautiful. It would make a glorious casket.

  They descended deeper into the hole, lowering themselves toward the rush of water. They didn't hear it at first, but it was down there. In what felt like an eternity later, they finally reached it.

  There was a ledge at the bottom. It was a miracle she and Zack had missed it when they had fallen. They could have been killed immediately if they had landed on the icy surface. Today, the ledge was their friend, and they lowered themselves onto its thick shelf.

  The water rushed past them, flowing down the tunnel like a raging waterfall sweeping over the edge. A cold shiver ran down her spine. She'd been numb, the first time this happened, all the air forced out of her lungs, and it had been too cold to gasp it back in.

  She closed her eyes and pushed those thoughts away and a moment of hope flowed through her. She had fallen into that icy water, had endured its deadly grasp. She could survive these two buffoons—she just needed to keep the faith.

  She survived the first time with God's help. She would survive it again.

  Chapter Fifty

  "THIS PLACE GIVES ME the creeps," Waterson said, looking around.

  "What did you expect," Ives responded, "a field of wildflowers? No one would put treasure someplace easy to get to, idiot."

  Sydney rolled her eyes. She didn't bother to tell him that the 'treasure,' as they called it, wasn't put here to hide it from anyone. It had been a home, a way of life. He wouldn't understand. His kind never did.

  A raft was lowered from above. Sydney watched it float down and guessed the drop must be almost thirty feet. She shivered again when she thought about the ledge and their near miss. "Thank you, God," she said.

  The two men put pitons in place and attached the ropes to the back end of the raft.

  "What's that for?" Sydney asked.

  "So we can find our way back. We don't intend on getting lost in there," Ives said. He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. It had been hard work, and in addition to their snow gear, they each had a wetsuit on underneath. The suits were designed for rescue crews, keeping the heat in and water out. Sydney had seen it before they zipped up their gear.

  They stepped into the raft. Sydney sat in the middle with Waterson and Ives flanking on each side.

  The raft shot forward without any effort, the water whipping it along as if it were a dried leaf. Smooth rock walls surrounded them as the water carried them along, the glare of their helmet lights causing an eerie glow around them.

  Sydney looked at the water. Should she jump in and take her chances? It was freezing, yes, but she could stay alive, at least for a few minutes before hypothermia started to set in. But it wouldn't do any good. She would only be pulled in the same direction as the raft. And if she didn't make it to the next ledge, she didn't know where the river would lead. It wasn't a chance she was willing to take.

  "So, how do you know Zack?" Waterson asked.

  Sydney blinked. Why did that even matter?

  "He works with my uncle," she said. She didn't want to give too much away.

  "He didn't get you in trouble with the law, did he?" Waterson asked.

  "Well, I'm here at gunpoint, brought by a police helicopter...or doesn't that count?" She snapped back with a hint of sarcasm. She was running low on good manners. "I'm assuming that's your beef with him as well?" she prodded.

  "Yes. Zack Cole will never have anyone's back. If a problem comes up, he takes off on his private jet without so much as a 'See ya later.'"

  Is that what was happening to her? He wouldn't abandon her if he knew she was missing. Did he know she was missing?

  "Tell me what happened," she said. If she could get him talking, focused on something else, she might see an opening for escape.

  "We were in Guatemala. Zack was there to recover a rare Tyndale Bible the National Police had seized from a gang of smugglers."

  "Zack was working with you?"

  Waterson gave a short laugh. "What? Didn't think he would associate with my kind? You really don't know him well, do you? He works alone, he likes to say. But if he finds you useful he'll get over it."

  "He found you useful?" grunted Ives.

  "So you were in Guatemala..."

  "Chasing smugglers by day, partying by night."

  Ives snorted. "You were in the middle of the jungle. Partying with whom? The monkeys?"

  "There was a village," Waterson said in his own defense. "They had a bar."

  "You mean some old man in a hut had a bottle of whiskey?"

  "You weren't there, Walter. Let me tell my story. It was a bar. A small bar, but a bar. Some girls would hang out there sometimes. I've always been popular with the ladies and Zack too, of course..."

  "Of course," Sydney said. It didn't sound like Zack. And at the same time, it sounded just like Zack.

  "And the lady I was spending time with wanted a little more that I could give her..."

  Ives coughed.

  "She wanted a ring," Waterson clarified. "I told her I wasn't ready to get tied down just yet, and the next thing we knew the authorities showed up looking for documentation. I told them Zack had all my paperwork. But Zack got what he came for and left. I ended up in jail where I met Walter, who was there under similar circumstances."

  "How did you get out?" she asked.

  "Dingo paid my bail," Ives said.

  "And I convinced him to pay mine too. So I owe him," Waterson said.

  "You're a man of honor," Sydney said.

  "Yeah. I guess I am."

  "Stop talking to her," Ives said. "She's just playing nice so it will be harder when it comes time to kill her."

  That put a damper on the conversation.

  Waterson turned his back on Sydney, and they floated on in silence.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  ZACK TRUDGED THROUGH THE snow, back to the helicopter, one foot in front of the other, marching until his thighs burned. He kept pushing. He had to get back to the helicopter. Rescuing Sydney was as essential as his breath.

  When he got to the helicopter, he called to Mikkel, speaking between the deep, heaving breaths of his exertion. "I need your help." Another deep breath. "We have to get to the moulin! They're taking her down." Another breath. "It's not safe. They've got guns!"

  Mikkel shook his head. "Think, Zack. If we arrive in a helicopter and, they have guns, they'll shoot at us. I can help in a lot of ways, but I can't protect you from bullets."

  Mikkel was right. There was no way he could get there in time without being seen.

  He only had one more option. In fact, it was a better choice. Why didn't he think
of this before?

  "Take me to the rescue site."

  "What are you thinking, Mr. Cole?"

  "It's another way in, maybe I can beat them to the city."

  Mikkel stared at him for a long moment. "You're serious about this, aren't you?"

  Zack stared right back, as serious as he'd ever been. Serious about her. He swallowed hard. His stomach knotted up, and he had to force air in and out of his lungs.

  Usually, ancient artifacts were harmless. Even their secret location only posed a threat as long as you couldn't figure out the mystery. Sometimes those places were booby-trapped, like the pyramids or some of the Mayan treasures.

  The people of old wanted to keep their valuables safe. But even then the traps were still predictable, the puzzle pieces falling into place if you were patient enough to see the clues. It was one of the biggest reasons Zack loved old things and the stories behind them. The ways that ancient cultures thought fascinated him.

  But today, it wasn't booby-traps or hidden doors that posed a threat. In modern-day times, it was people, living and breathing human beings with weapons and twisted loyalties that were the danger.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  SYDNEY'S MIND WAS RACING, and she forced herself to focus. She had the advantage. She knew her way around down here. The men didn't. This didn't have to end badly for her. They finally reached the ledge that had saved her and Zack before.

  She could lead them off into the darkness where they would never be heard from again.

  The problem was, doing that would lead her to her death.

  So.

  "There," she pointed. "That's where we're going."