The Minoan Cipher (A Matinicus “Matt” Hawkins Adventure Book 2)

by Paul Kemprecos

  The driver was the man called Bruno. No one spoke on the ride out of the city and into the countryside along the same route they had taken on the earlier trip. When the SUV stopped in front of the log cabin, his seat companions muscled him out between them. As soon as Chad’s feet hit the ground, one man enveloped him from behind in a bear hug. His companion bent over and plucked the pistol from its holster.

  He jabbed Chad between the shoulder blades with the gun.

  “Get moving,” he growled.

  Salazar’s gorillas dragged him up the stairs and into the log cabin. Salazar was waiting in the living room. His man handed him the pistol. Salazar glanced at the gun, then tossed it into the cold fireplace.

  “You won’t need your little toy for this mission,” Salazar said. There was derision rather than anger in his manner.

  Chad decided to bluff it out. “No one said I couldn’t bring along some insurance.”

  “True, but it would simply complicate matters.”

  “You’re the boss, Mr. Salazar.” He turned to Bruno and gave him a lop-sided grin. “Must be getting careless. How’d you make me?”

  “No-brainer. Your piece got picked up by a metal detector built into the framework of the front door. It’s got a link to my cell phone.”

  Chad remembered the call Bruno had taken on the first visit to the cabin.

  Forcing a chuckle, he said, “Guess things have changed a lot since my Special Ops days.”

  “Guess they have,” Bruno said with a sneer lacing his voice.

  Salazar raised his hand to signal an end to the discussion, then moved closer to Chad, examining him from a foot away like an entomologist studying a rare insect.

  “Not bad at all,” he murmured. “The hairline is barely discernible. The eye color is almost right. What do you think, Bruno?”

  “Dead ringer,” Bruno said.

  Salazar stretched his lips in a wide smile. “Give me another demonstration of your vocal talents.”

  Chad barked, “Why did you come here? Did you think I’d be amused by your antics?”

  Salazar wrapped his arm around the shoulders of his body double and guided him to the door. “Now let’s put your skills to a real test.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

  Calvin was twelve minutes overdue at the airport and to Abby that was an eternity. She went to shoot him a text but hesitated. Headlights were approaching at a high rate of speed. As the lights neared, she saw that they belonged to a truck. Someone was waving madly out of the driver’s window. The truck screeched to a stop and the door flew open. Calvin leaped out, a bright smile on his face, strode across the tarmac and gave Abby a hug that squeezed every ounce of anger from her body.

  “Sorry I’m late,” he said. “Had to swing by Captain Santiago’s to borrow the truck. Where’s Matt?”

  “He got the call from Lily Porter and drove into Cadiz to meet her and the professor. He doesn’t expect it to amount to much.”

  “Mission’s still on as far as I’m concerned. When I told the captain we were headed to La Mancha he quoted a bon voyage from Cervantes. It’s been whirling around in my skull all the way to the airport.”

  “I’d love to hear it,” Abby said.

  “I’ll give it a try,” Calvin said. “ ‘May you come back sound, wind and limb out of this dreadful hole which you are running into, once more to see the warm sun which you art now leaving.’ ”

  Abby laughed. “I’ll be glad when we all see the warm sun again.”

  Calvin gave her a thumb’s up. He went over to the back of the truck, unloaded some boxes and laid out the contents on the tarmac.

  Abby brought out her iPad and went down the list with Calvin. Black dry suits. Draeger rebreather units. Night vision goggles. Six M67 “baseball” grenades. Two tear gas canisters. A pair of Heckler and Koch machine guns with sound suppressors. Ammunition magazines. Two limpet mines. Dive knives. A compact raft that could be inflated in seconds. And miscellaneous equipment, such as radios, medical kits and wire cutters.

  She stopped next to a long bag. “Planning to get in a round of golf?”

  “That’s gator repellant,” Calvin said with a straight face.

  Abby was responsible for making sure Calvin and Hawkins weren’t encumbered by even an ounce of excess gear.

  “Is it necessary for the success of the mission?”

  Calvin smirked. “Might be. If we run into any gators.”

  Abby sighed and shook her head.

  This was going to be a long night.

  While the equipment was being checked out at the airport, Hawkins was driving across the city to meet with Lily and her professor friend. He hoped the professor had information that would help, but no matter what he said, Hawkins was certain he and Calvin would have to penetrate the castle defenses.

  A SEAL mission goes through a standard protocol that starts with a problem to be solved. The platoon comes up with one or more solutions, operations and intel are brought in to massage the plan, and it goes to the commander. Upon his okay, the platoon comes up with an action schedule and collects the resources needed to carry the mission out.

  Hawkins was commander and team leader. Calvin was operations and Abby was intel. This simplified things. They could move faster without the usual back-and-forth and negotiations that went with a full-blown SEAL mission. As far as combat forces go, the team was pretty pitiful.

  To be successful, a SEAL operation must follow a simple rule. Haul ass. Get in, accomplish the mission and get out. Combat should be avoided at all costs.

  The objective was to rescue Kalliste. He had figured out the when. Damned soon. But not the where. Kalliste could be anywhere in the Maze. He pictured the Maze drawing on the scroll. His brain fluttered. A thought flew around inside his skull like a bird in a cage.

  He glanced at his watch. Traffic was heavy because of an accident. He was running late for his appointment with Lily at the University of Cadiz campus, and this delayed him even further. All he could do was sit behind the steering wheel and fume.

  The Cadiz campus was in the old city, clustered in a warren of narrow streets, squares and plazas bordered on the waterside by Caleta Beach and Genovese Park. In the daytime, it was a shady oasis of palms, topiary cut trees sculpted in the shape of giant corkscrews, duck pools and bubbling fountains. At night, much of the park was in darkness.

  Lily waited in the shadows of an unlit area under some tall palms.

  She had instructed Hawkins to leave his car in the lot next to the seawall, and make his way to the park. She would be watching for him. She would call his name and tell him that the professor was waiting with her. Then she would lead him to the place she had chosen as the killing ground. As they strolled under the trees, she would stop and whisper something pitiful like, “Oh Matt. I’m so glad you came.”

  Then she would embrace him as she had at the café, draw the bronze dagger from her sleeve and drive the point up under his ribs. Hawkins was a big man, but she had dispatched thousand-pound sacrificial bulls with cold-blooded efficiency. She gripped the hilt of the dagger. At times of sacrifice, the dagger seemed to quiver with life. She was merely the instrument of the Mother Goddess who directed her hand.

  The sea shimmered in the moonlight. It was a beautiful night. Soon she would add the sickly-sweet smell of blood to the fragrance of orange trees carried on the soft, warm breeze. When she had eliminated Hawkins, she would head back to the Maze where a new High Priestess would be born. Lily Porter, the vapid chattering woman whose role she had played for so long, would disappear forever.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

  Six thousand miles to the west of Cadiz, Molly Sutherland sat in front of the glowing computer screen surrounded by empty diet soda cans, half a cold pizza and various empty snack bags.

  She had spent hours going through Salazar’s off-the-books list of corporations. Her head was spinning. Her butt was numb from sitting. Her stomach was queasy from junk food. She felt like a lone lumberjack trying t
o hack his way through a forest of redwood trees. The extent of the Auroch holdings was mind-boggling.

  Most of the businesses had to do with energy, mining and related industries, which is the reason she raised an eyebrow when she came across the media subsidiary known as the Hidden History channel listed under Auroch ownership.

  She Googled Hidden History and concluded that the show was the broadcasting equivalent of the junk food that was making her sick. A number of files referred to Lily Porter. She called up a photo. Porter was pretty in a dippy kind of way. Had she seen the name before? Oh yeah. Hawkins had been sending her short updates on where he was and what he was doing. She went back and read where he had met Lily Porter in a hotel. She was Kalliste’s producer. Molly’s mind must have been as bloated as her stomach. She didn’t catch the significance of the recollection at first. When she did, it was like being hit with a hammer. Lily Porter worked for Hidden History, which was owned by Auroch, which was run by Salazar.

  It only took minutes to do a quick people search using a biography program that could reach back to the gleam in a father’s eye. Porter’s biography was brief. She had been born in Stockton, California, went to U-Cal and the Columbia School of Journalism. After graduation, she went to work for Hidden History and in a short time as a reporter, became its producer. Molly ran a check of the Stockton birth records. No mention of Lily Porter. Lily just seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

  Her long eyelashes went into full blink mode. She typed a quick text.

  Matt. Call me now.

  When Matt didn’t reply she called him directly.

  No answer. She tried again and left a message on his voicemail saying she had urgent news.

  Damn, Matt. Where are you?

  Molly started to hyperventilate in her panic. With a trembling finger she punched in a number on her contact list. As she listened to the unanswered ring, she was filled with a sense of foreboding.

  Abby heard the phone chirping but she finished helping Calvin stow the raft in the helicopter before she answered the call.

  “Abby, do you know where Matt is? I can’t reach him. Tried texting and calling.”

  Molly’s excited voice was high-pitched, but Abby recognized the West Virginia drawl.

  “He’s on his way to a meeting with a TV producer named Lily Porter.”

  “Darn. Matt could be in danger,” Molly said. “Lily Porter works for Auroch.”

  Abby was stunned by the revelation, but her Navy training took control. “Thanks, Molly. I’ll stop him. Talk later. Bye.”

  She hung up and called Matt’s number. She got his voice mail and left a quick message, “Matt, it’s Abby. Don’t meet with Lily Porter.”

  Calvin walked over, brushing his palms to signify a job well done. “Why shouldn’t Matt meet with Lily?” he said.

  “That was Molly. She found a connection between Salazar and Lily. I knew there was something slimy about that over-made-up dame.”

  Calvin swore. “Whole thing was a set-up. You get through to Matt?”

  “Just his voice mail. Texting is out, too. His phone is off.”

  Calvin reached into his pocket and pulled out his own phone.

  “Damn it, Calvin, I just called. You’re wasting valuable time.”

  “Maybe not,” Calvin said with a maddening calmness.

  He showed her the phone screen which displayed a map of Cadiz. A pulsating blue dot was moving slowly through the city.

  “You’ve got a locator?” Abby said.

  “Matt and I installed the program on our phones. Seemed like a good idea if we got separated.”

  Abby’s elation faded as quickly as it had appeared. Matt was getting closer to danger. Even if they drove out of the airport now, they could never arrive in time. She stared at the screen. She had never felt so helpless.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

  As Hawkins pulled into the parking lot he finally figured out what was nagging him. He sat in his car and called up the photo Lily had relayed to his phone. When he’d first seen the picture, his eye had been drawn to Kalliste’s face and the creatures at her sides. This time he saw something he hadn’t noticed before.

  Kalliste had her arms crossed in what he had taken to be a defensive posture. The thumb of her right hand was extended vertically in an unnatural position. The invisible line from her thumb tip pointed toward the archway above her head. Painted on the lintel was a double-headed axe that matched the one in the maze diagram. Kalliste had used the photo to show where she was being held.

  There were two calls on his phone as well. Molly and Abby. He was already twenty minutes late for his meeting with Lily. He tucked the phone in his pocket, got out of the car and headed toward the opening in the wall bordering the park. A hard-packed sand path led to a boulevard that ran between the rows of benches and odd-shaped trees.

  No sign of Lily. He wondered if she had left because he was late. He started to walk down the boulevard. Ahead of him, a figure in black stepped out from the trees into the yellow puddle of light cast by one of the tall lamps that lined the boulevard. The figure waved. It could only be Lily. By the time he got to the lamp, she had stepped back into the woods.

  He stood under the light and called her name.

  Her answer came from the shadows. “I didn’t want anyone to see us together. Follow my voice. You’ll come upon a path. The professor is with me.”

  The last thing Hawkins wanted was to play hide-and-seek with the spacey TV producer. He stepped between two topiary trees and came upon a narrow path into the woods. After walking for a hundred feet he stopped where another path intercepted the first; he was uncertain which way to go.

  Lily called from the darkness to his left, “Over here, Matt.”

  He followed her voice through some bushes and broke out into a clearing. Lily was standing in the open area, barely visible in the moonlight. As he started walking toward her, she spread her arms. Hawkins steeled himself for the inevitable embrace. That’s when all hell broke loose. From overhead there came an ear-shattering thrashing racket. The palms whipped as if in a hurricane. The downdraft kicked up a blinding cloud of sand and dust. He was caught in the staccato glare of blinking lights from a hovering helicopter.

  Calvin’s voice thundered down from the heavens, “Matt, get out of there!”

  Hawkins covered his face with one arm and waved with the other.

  “Do it now, Matt,” the voice said. “Head for the sea.”

  Hawkins made his way through the palm grove to the path leading to the seawall. As he emerged from the park, he saw the red fuselage and yellow suns on the side of the hovering HelioTours helicopter, which was starting its descent.

  The downdraft had nearly blown Lily off her feet. She buried her head in her arms until the helicopter flew off, then she brushed away the sand that covered her black dress. As the dust settled, she looked around. Hawkins was gone.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

  When the red orbs had blinked on in the darkness Kalliste froze like a rabbit being stalked by a fox. The clop-clop sound and the snorts grew louder. She was too terrified to run. Her feet seemed to be glued to the floor.

  Then came the bellow. Part human moan. Part the bawl of a huge animal. The unearthly sound echoed off the walls of the dark chamber and triggered her flight response. She turned and fled.

  The thing gave chase. The reddish glow cast from behind by the burning eyes helped show the way, but it also indicated that the thing was about to catch her.

  She drew on every ounce of strength in her body, and seemed to be outdistancing her pursuer when the sole of her right sandal came down hard on a round object that moved underfoot. It was like stepping on a bowling ball. Her ankle twisted and she pitched off to one side. Her arms wind-milled in the empty air. The tumble was ripe with the potential for broken bones, but Kalliste crashed into what felt like a pile of dry kindling that snapped under her weight and cushioned her fall.

  She rolled off to one side and the thing b
arreled past Kalliste instead of over her. Then came a metallic crash that sounded like an SUV in a collision test. Kalliste pushed herself up on her knees and watched, spellbound, as the beams from the twin red orbs pointed up, then off to one side, then at the stone wall. The thing finally seemed to regain its balance. It spun slowly around. The probing eyes found Kalliste and moved in her direction.

  In the quick glimpse of pale light she saw that she had fallen onto a heap of bones. Dried flesh still clung to some of them, including the grinning skull that’d tripped her up. If she didn’t move she’d end up like the thing’s previous victims. Kalliste was up and running. She almost fell again on the scattered bones, but managed to stay on her feet. Again, she was surrounded by a rosy halo as the thing gained on her.

  A stone wall loomed up at the forward edge of the sweep of light. She saw a dark rectangle in the wall. A doorway. She plunged through the opening and her extended hands slammed into a second wall. She groped her way along the rough stone surface until she found another doorway. Kalliste stepped through the portal and followed the wall right, then left, until she emerged into a tunnel lit by flickering sconces.

  The thing was too big to follow her through the narrow passageway. She could hear it snorting and clomping around in its lair. She stood there catching her breath, her mind whirling. Had she nearly been killed by the Minotaur—the legendary half-man, half-bull that guarded the heart of the Labyrinth? The bones she’d tripped over and the odor of rotting flesh indicated that others had been less fortunate. She had leaned back against a wall to rest, and that’s when her legs turned to rubber and she slid down to a sitting position.

  Curling up on the hard surface, Kalliste waited for the mad hammering of her heart to slow down. She pulled the tablecloth tighter around her shoulders. The thin fabric provided a degree of insulation from the cold. She still shivered but her teeth stopped clacking. She got to her feet and ran her fingers over her arms and legs. Both elbows and one knee were bruised, but if she hadn’t fallen she might not be alive.