The Atlantis Gene

by S. A. Beck

  The Atlantis Gene

  Book 3 of the Atlantis Saga

  S.A. Beck

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  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  The Atlantis Gene: The Atlantis Saga

  Copyright © 2016 by S.A. Beck

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author.

  www.sabeckbooks.com

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  About the Author

  All Books by S.A. Beck

  Excerpt from The Atlantis Secret

  Chapter 1

  JUNE 12, 2016, MOJAVE DESERT, NEVADA

  11:45 AM

  Even though it was barely past noon, Otto Heike felt exhausted. He slumped in the back of the Subaru and watched the desert go by. He’d had a sleepless night during an eleven-hour drive in that very same car, a terrifying morning making contact with a scientist who should have been lying half dead in a hospital bed, and then a tense hour driving out of Albuquerque, wondering when they were going to get shot.

  The shots never came, and fatigue was getting the better of his fear. His eyes kept closing, and his thoughts became muddled. Then an awareness of their situation jerked him awake, and he looked behind them on the lonely desert road, searching for pursuit.

  Next to him sat the scientist they had gone to Albuquerque to pick up, Dr. Akiko Yamazaki, a middle-aged woman who his friends in the Atlantis Allegiance had told him had suffered a massive stroke. She seemed fine at the moment, though, and had told them a story about how a group of Atlanteans had come into her hospital room, magically healed her by laying their hands on her head, and whisked her away as they were chased by cops and government agents who killed all the Atlanteans while Dr. Yamazaki made her escape.

  That last part sounded magical too.

  Otto was having a hard time buying her story. There were too many unbelievable things about it. But if someone was going to make up a bogus story, would they make up one that made no sense? Dr. Yamazaki seemed too intelligent to devise such a lousy alibi.

  His companions in the front seat looked as confused as he was.

  Dr. James Yuhle was driving and kept glancing at the doctor through the rearview mirror. Yuhle was as exhausted as Otto from the all-night drive, but Vivian, who sat in the passenger’s seat, had insisted that he get behind the wheel.

  Otto thought he knew why. Vivian was a mercenary, and Yuhle was a scientist. Vivian looked fine after her own sleepless night, but she obviously wanted Yuhle to drive so she could keep her hands free.

  And that meant she suspected trouble.

  Vivian had a 9mm automatic in a holster on her hip, and her purse was filled with grenades. In the trunk of the car, she had stowed a duffel bag filled with a small arsenal of weapons.

  Her face remained calm, however, at odds with all the suspicious things she’d been saying before they picked up Dr. Yamazaki. Hell, an hour before, Vivian had had the scientist in the scope of her sniper’s rifle when Otto had picked up Dr. Yamazaki at the rendezvous.

  For several minutes, there had been silence. It seemed like an hour. Dr. Yamazaki finally broke it.

  “So where have you set up base?” she asked.

  Yuhle opened his mouth to reply, but Vivian cut him off.

  “The desert.”

  Silence.

  “I see,” Dr. Yamazaki said.

  “So tell me more about this breakout. What else can you remember?” Vivian asked.

  Otto shook his head and looked out at the desert passing by. They were on a county road well away from the interstate. No other cars were in sight. Occasionally they passed an isolated ranch or a lonely cluster of dusty trailer homes, but otherwise there was nothing but rocks, scraggly bushes, the occasional lonely mesquite tree, and distant mountains under a brilliant blue sky.

  Why was Vivian asking her about that again? She’d told the story of her breakout three times already.

  Then it hit him. Vivian was looking for inconsistencies in her story. Otto tuned in as Dr. Yamazaki told about her getaway for the fourth time. He couldn’t find anything different from the last three times she’d told it.

  So where did that leave them? Believing that a commando squad of Atlanteans had healed her brain, helped her escape, and then conveniently all got killed?

  Otto remembered his girlfriend, Jaxon Andersen. She was an Atlantean with no training, and yet she had managed to beat up half a dozen government agents. So yeah, maybe they could have busted her out, but what about healing her brain? Was that even possible? He didn’t know much about strokes.

  He did know that medical researchers had spent years looking for ways to heal the damage and had come up with nothing. His grandfather, one of the smartest people he had ever known, had suffered a stroke a couple of years ago. Grandpa went from being a whiz at fixing cars and solving crossword puzzles, someone who could quote whole pages from books he had read years before, to a drooling mess in a wheelchair.

  Judging from what Yuhle had said, Dr. Yamazaki had been just as bad.

  The bleeping of Vivian’s phone snapped him out of his thoughts.

  She and Otto traded looks. No one was supposed to call except for Grunt or Edward back at base. That ring meant something had gone wrong.

  Yuhle had heard it too. He pulled the car off to the side of the road.

  “What’s going on?” Dr. Yamazaki asked.

  “Got to take this call, honey,” Vivian said.

  Dr. Yamazaki’s brow furrowed. “How are you even getting coverage out here?”

  “Satellite uplink,” Vivian said. Otto noticed she left out the fact that Edward had hacked into a communications satellite so he couldn’t be traced. At least that was what Otto presumed he had done. Maybe he was using a different trick. Otto had given up trying to predict what Edward would do.

  Once the car came to a stop, Vivian opened the door and stepped out onto the gravel shoulder. Her long blond hair flashed brilliantly in the desert sun, and Otto couldn’t help admiring her athletic body as she stepped away from the car. Reminding himself he had a girlfriend, he looked away.

  “Otto, come with me,” Vivian called.

  Curious, Otto followed.

  Vivian walked several yards into the desert, well out of earshot of the car. Otto looked back and saw Yuhle had turned around in his seat and was talking with Dr. Yamazaki. From their expressions, it looked like an argument. The hot desert sun pounded on Otto and made him feel even more tired. Once he caught up with Vivian, she answered the phone.

  “What is it, honey?” she asked.

  Otto leaned in close to hear the answer. Edward’s voice came over the phone. He was a computer hacker and conspiracy theorist who served as the Atlantis Allegiance’s eyes and ears. He was also the nerdiest, most paranoid person Otto had ever met.

  “Big trouble. Are either of the two scientists there?”

  “No, I figured it would be best to do this out of earshot,” Vivian replied
.

  Otto remembered how Dr. Yuhle was insistent before the mission that Dr. Yamazaki would never set up a trap for them, that she was totally dedicated to stopping General Meade and the rest of the secret government project that wanted to enslave the Atlanteans. If Edward didn’t want Yuhle to hear what he had to say, then it really was bad news.

  Edward went on. “I’ve picked up some chatter on a military channel in your area. Looks like General Meade’s goon squad is closing in on you.”

  Otto looked all around him, squinting against the harsh southwestern light, hoping to catch a glimpse of a faraway helicopter or vehicle. He saw nothing.

  “We got clear of the city without being tailed, I’m sure of it,” Vivian said.

  “Did you check her for a tracking device?” Edward asked.

  “Of course.”

  Vivian had run a device that looked like an airport security wand up and down Dr. Yamazaki after she had gotten into the car back in Albuquerque.

  “Check her again. Visually. General Meade’s Poseidon Project has access to all the latest technology. He might have something that resists the detector.”

  “All right,” Vivian said, nervously looking around as Otto had. “How much time do we have?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t been able to break their code yet. I only know that they’re in your area and active.”

  Vivian sprinted back to the car. Otto hurried to follow.

  She yanked open the back door and hauled Dr. Yamazaki out.

  “Hey!” the female scientist protested.

  “You have a tracking device on you. Know anything about that?” Vivian demanded.

  Dr. Yuhle got out of the car. “A tracking device? Nonsense.”

  “Stay out of this,” Vivian snapped. Otto was taken aback. Normally she was all sugar and spice. Right then, though, she looked as if she wanted to tear someone’s head off. He had to remind himself that the woman was a mercenary, and from the hints she’d dropped, she had once been an assassin.

  Dr. Yamazaki was wearing a man’s trench coat over a cheap old dress and even cheaper shoes. She had claimed that she had taken the wallet from one of her dying saviors and bought some clothes at Goodwill to replace her hospital robe. That part of her story certainly appeared to be true.

  Vivian tore off the trench coat and handed it to Otto.

  “Take a good look at this, inside and out. I’m going to take her over behind that mesquite tree and check out the rest of her. No peeking, boys.”

  “I’m not trying to trap you,” Dr. Yamazaki protested.

  “She’d never do that,” Yuhle said, trying to get between them.

  “Hey, Yuhle,” Otto said. “We got company coming soon. Take the binoculars in the glove compartment, get on top of the car, and take a look around.”

  Yuhle turned pale. He looked at his old boss as Vivian hustled her away, he hesitated, and then he ran for the car.

  Otto nodded. Yuhle didn’t always think straight, but he seemed to appreciate how much danger they were all in. He’d been part of General Meade’s Poseidon Project and knew better than any of them how determined and ruthless that man could be.

  Otto turned his attention to the trench coat, not really sure what he was searching for. What did a tracking device look like, anyway? First he rummaged through the pockets and found them all empty. He felt along the lining of the coat as he’d once seen in a gangster movie but didn’t find any suspicious lumps.

  Yuhle clambered up onto the roof of the car, the thin metal groaning in protest, and scanned the horizon.

  “See anything?” Otto asked.

  “Not yet,” Yuhle said, slowly turning a full one hundred eighty degrees. When he moved to face Vivian, who was giving a loudly protesting Dr. Yamazaki a strip search behind the mesquite tree, Yuhle practically jumped in the air and turned away.

  “No, I didn’t see anything. Nothing at all, got that?” Yuhle said, turning red from something other than the desert heat.

  “Ah…right,” Otto said and went back to searching the trench coat.

  He patted it, turned it inside out, then inside in, and still didn’t find anything.

  A minute later, he found it by pure chance. As he was turning the trench coat over, his hand passed over something that didn’t feel like fabric. A small circular area the size of his thumbnail felt smooth, like plastic. He held it up to the light and squinted.

  He saw a patch of clear plastic that contained a tiny spiderweb of circuits and wires. Even staring straight at it, he could barely make it out. If he hadn’t accidentally touched it, he wouldn’t have spotted it in a million years.

  “I found it!” he called out.

  Vivian came running. A moment later, Dr. Yamazaki emerged from behind the tree, buttoning up her dress.

  Vivian studied the little patch, then peeled it off, dropped it in the gritty soil, and ground it back and forth with her shoe.

  “That ought to wreck it,” she said.

  Everyone turned to Dr. Yamazaki, who stood uncertainly in the road.

  “Care to explain this?” Vivian demanded.

  Dr. Yamazaki’s eyes went wide.

  “I-I didn’t know! They must have put it on me.”

  “When?”

  “How should I know? Maybe in the motel last night, maybe in the diner this morning.”

  Yuhle cut in. “It was on the back of her coat. That’s where I’d put it if I was planting one on her. If I was planting it on myself, I’d hide it inside a sleeve or something.”

  Otto looked back and forth between them, not sure who to believe.

  Vivian pulled the automatic pistol from the holster at her belt and pointed it at Dr. Yamazaki.

  “Whoa, wait a minute!” Otto shouted.

  Vivian ignored him. “Care to tell us who sent you to trap us?”

  Dr. Yamazaki stood there, trembling, unable to speak.

  Otto put himself between the two women.

  “Look, everyone. Calm down. Vivian, please point that somewhere else. If they were going to attack us, they would have done so already.”

  Vivian shook her head. “They would hang back and follow us to our base to get the entire Atlantis Allegiance.”

  Otto thought for a moment. “Okay, that makes sense, but now that you’ve broken that thing…”

  Yuhle put his binoculars back up to his eyes and scanned the horizon.

  “Dust cloud on the road behind us!”

  He spun forward and paused a moment.

  “And ahead!”

  Vivian sprinted to the car, popped the trunk, and grabbed a large duffel bag that Otto knew was filled with guns.

  “Everyone in the car!” Otto shouted. “We can have this argument later. We need to survive the next ten minutes first!”

  Chapter 2

  JUNE 17, 2016, LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA

  8:30 PM

  Jaxon Ares Andersen sighed as she read the website of the Los Angeles Times as part of her summer school homework. Students had to read a newspaper article and then write an essay on it.

  Boring, but on the other hand totally difficult.

  No one seemed to care that she was dyslexic. Oh, there was a special counselor at school who was oh-so-helpful in that way people could be that made them look saintly and her look stupid, and her foster parents said all the usual supportive and encouraging things, but that didn’t keep her teacher from assigning her just as much reading and writing as everyone else.

  “Why couldn’t I just be a gardener?” she grumbled under her breath as she tried to focus on the words scrambling before her eyes. “I’m the best gardener in the world.”

  Jaxon gave a nervous look over her shoulder to make sure no one had heard. She sat at her desk in her room, using one of the Grants’ laptops. No one stood at the open doorway to her room who could have caught what she had said. The house was so huge she could have probably shouted that and gotten away with it.

  Still, she should control her mouth. If the Grants
learned about her weird abilities with plants, there could be trouble. Stephen Grant, her foster father, was a plant pathologist. If he found out, he’d probably want to conduct scientific tests on her or something, turn her into a guinea pig. All she wanted was to be left alone.

  She sighed and went back to reading the paper, or at least trying to. The headlines were all the usual boring stuff—political fights between important people she’d never heard of, some new highway construction project that was tying up commuter traffic, people complaining about the harsh fines the city had put in place against wasting water, more depressing news about California’s endless drought…it was all the same stuff as the last time she had been given the assignment a week ago. She had suspected that her class was going to get that assignment every week. Wonderful. Then an odd headline caught her eye.

  MYSTERIOUS TEENAGE SUPERHERO SAVES SENIOR CITIZEN

  LAPD have reported a strange incident last night.

  Mrs. Maria Rosales, 71, was walking home from a bus stop in East LA when she was accosted by two men who demanded her purse. Before she could react, a young man wearing sweatpants and a hooded sweatshirt attacked her would-be muggers and knocked them down with a series of martial arts moves. He then walked Mrs. Rosales home and fled the scene.

  Rosales was unhurt and described the attacker as a young white male in his mid-teens.

  “He barely spoke,” Rosales said. “He only asked if I was all right. He sounded educated and definitely Anglo, although I didn’t get a good look at him. God bless him.”

  This is the third such report in the past few weeks. The first occurred on May 13, when a man in a wheelchair reported being saved from a mugger by a teenager. On June 1, two teenaged girls walking in a shopping mall parking lot reported a similar incident of being rescued from a man who tried to force them into a car. In both cases, the vigilante matched the description of the teen described in the latest case. All three incidents happened in the hours of darkness.