Buccaneer (Dane Maddock Adventures)

by David Wood

  Buccaneer- A Dane Maddock Adventure

  By David Wood

  For more than two centuries the Oak Island Money Pit has baffled researchers and foiled treasure hunters, and when Dane Maddock and Bones Bonebrake take up the search, they get much more than they bargained for. Danger lies at every turn as they search for a treasure out of legend that dates back to the time of Christ. Ancient wonders, hidden temples, mythical creatures, secret societies, and foes new and old await as Dane and Bones unravel a pirate’s deadly secret in Buccaneer.

  Praise for the Dane Maddock Adventures

  "David Wood delivers again with a fast-paced romp complete with treasure maps, hidden Templar churches and a secret organization that wants to resurrect an ancient kingdom. Dane Maddock and his sidekick Bones wisecrack their way through adventure, aided by Angel and Avery, two strong women who bring a romantic spin to this action-adventure chase. I loved the Cornish citadel with dragons guarding it and the echoes of Arthurian legend. Fantastic!" -J.F.Penn, author of the ARKANE thrillers.

  “With the thoroughly enjoyable way Mr. Wood has mixed speculative history with our modern day pursuit of truth, he has created a story that thrills and makes one think beyond the boundaries of mere fiction and enter the world of ‘why not’?”–David Lynn Golemon, Author of Ripper and Legend

  “Ancient cave paintings? Cities of gold? Secret scrolls? Sign me up. A twisty tale of adventure and intrigue that never lets up and never lets go!” –Robert Masello, author of The Medusa Amulet

  “A page-turning yarn blending high action, Biblical speculation, ancient secrets, and nasty creatures. Indiana Jones better watch his back!”–Jeremy Robinson, author of SecondWorld

  “Let there be no confusion: David Wood is the next Clive Cussler..”–Edward G. Talbot, author of 2010: The Fifth World

  Dedicated to John Blake, for always being there for us.

  Buccaneer: A Dane Maddock Adventure by David Wood

  Copyright 2012 by David Wood

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without the written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction, all names, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.

  Published November, 2012 by Gryphonwood Press

  www.gryphonwoodpress.com

  Prologue

  January, 1698

  It was a stormy day on the Arabian Sea. Dark clouds hung low on the horizon and an angry wind scoured the decks with salt spray. William Kidd stood on board the Adventure Galley, surveying his prize. The merchant vessel sailed under Armenian colors, but carried French passes guaranteeing its protection, and that made it a fair game. They’d taken it with little resistance offered by its crew. If its cargo holds carried half the wealth he hoped, he would be a rich man.

  “Captain, may I have a word?”

  He turned to see an ashen-face Joseph Palmer standing behind him, shifting his weight from side to side and looking about as if fearful of being overheard.

  “What is it, Palmer?”

  “We have a problem.” The sailor dropped his gaze, reluctant to continue.

  “What is it? It can’t be the cargo. The ship was riding too low in the water for her to be empty.”

  “No, Captain, it isn’t that. It’s the finest haul we’ve ever made. Gold and silver, silk and satin, and all sorts of fine things.”

  Kidd tried not to let relief show on his face. It would not do to reveal that he’d had even the slightest doubt. Loyalty among his crew was tenuous at best, and the dogs would bite at the first show of weakness on his part.

  “So, what is this problem?”

  Palmer cleared his throat and looked up at the gray sky.

  “It is not a French vessel.”

  Cold fear trickled down Kidd’s spine. The man had to be mistaken.

  “It is an Indian ship,” Palmer continued, “captained by an Englishman.”

  “That cannot be. It is under French protection. French!”

  “It’s the truth all the same.” Palmer shrugged. “The captain of their vessel, he wants to see you.”

  “Then he may come and see me. I will show him all the proper courtesies.” His thoughts raced. He was a privateer, not a pirate, but, after this incident, it might not be seen that way back in England. Perhaps he could reach an arrangement with this captain. “Bring him aboard.”

  “There’s a problem with that. We tried to reason with him, but he wouldn’t stop fighting. Finally, Bradinham stuck him in the gut. He’s in a bad way, and I don’t think he’ll last much longer. He says it’s important. He said he...” Palmer stopped and scratched at his chin whiskers. “What was the word? It was something like ignore.”

  “Implore.”

  “That’s the one.” Palmer’s expression brightened. “Shall I take you there?”

  Kidd saw no way other than to face the problem and work his way out of it.

  “Very well, sailor. Let us go.”

  The wounded captain sat propped up on the bed in his cabin. His quarters were austere, not at all befitting a man of his rank, Kidd thought. Blood soaked through the heavy bandages wrapped around his abdomen, and loss of blood had drained him of any color he might have had. He forced a smile as Kidd came through the door.

  “Be welcome, Captain.” His voice was as thin as old parchment. “Please, close the door.”

  Puzzled by this courteous reception, Kidd complied.

  “I understand you wish to see me.”

  The man’s gray eyes, glassy with shock, locked on his.

  “Are you a man of God, Captain Kidd?”

  It was not a question he would have expected, considering the circumstances.

  “Of course,” Kidd replied.

  “You are needed to do God’s work.” A series of painful coughs racked the captain’s body, and red froth oozed from the corners of his mouth. “I need you to deliver something to England. It must not be lost or fall into the wrong hands.” He handed Kidd a canvas bag. Inside was an ivory document case, very old and ornately carved. Bound to it was a sheet of parchment with instructions on where and to whom to deliver it.

  Kidd frowned. The man’s urgency indicated this was something of great value. Perhaps he could profit from this transaction.

  “Captain Kidd, please listen to me.” The man could scarcely manage a whisper now. His time was short. “Do not think to circumvent God’s will. That way leads to ruin.”

  Kidd nodded. He was above such superstitious nonsense, but no harm in humoring a dying man.

  “Believe me.” He pulled down the neck of his shirt, revealing a brand on his left breast. He was a hairy man, and the brand was now a pale scar, but Kidd recognized the symbol immediately.

  Surprised, he took an involuntary step backward, his head swimming, and clutched the wall for support.

  “It can’t be,” he gasped. “They are all dead!”

  The dying captain managed a weak smile.

  “Not quite. Not yet.”

  Chapter 1

  It was like walking on Swiss cheese. Avery chose her steps with care as she wound between sinkholes and abandoned shafts. Damn treasure hunters. They’d torn the island apart over the last two centuries and for what? A legend. Then again, she wouldn’t be here if she wasn’t a believer.

  She paused, straining to listen for any sound that would tell her where work was going on. She didn’t know exactly where the crew would be, probably somewhere near the reputed location of the famous Money Pit.

  It had been a long hike from the causeway. Not so long ago, you could drive ont
o and around the island, but no longer. The local government had taken it over and shut it down, citing safety concerns. Now, no choice remained other than hoofing it. One hundred forty acres sounded small until you had to walk across it in the blistering sun, all the while worrying that your next step would send you plunging down into darkness and whatever lay beneath.

  She brushed a stray lock of hair back from her face, feeling the damp sheen of sweat and humidity that clung there. She knew she should have made an appointment, but when she’d heard the news about the new crew undertaking the search, she couldn’t wait, knowing she might not get a chance like this again. Now, if she could only make him listen.

  Passing through a dense stand of the oak trees that gave the island its name, she looked out across an open space where workmen had, over the years, stripped away the native forest. There! Far across the clearing, workers milled about, setting up equipment and surveying the area. Pleased that she’d been correct about their likely starting point, she picked up the pace. She thought she saw one of the workers, a tall, dark man with long hair, turn and look her way.

  Avery felt the ground give way beneath her feet. She sprang back a moment too late. Her scream didn’t quite drown out the muffled snap of rotten wood shattering. She reached out, her fingers digging furrows in the soft earth as she struggled in vain to hold on to the edge of the abandoned treasure pit. She caught hold of a thick tuft of grass and, for one blessed moment, hung motionless over the void.

  And then, with a tortured, ripping sound, her lifeline tore free. She battered the inside of the shaft as she slid downward, grasping for a handhold. Sharp pain lanced through her as jagged rocks sliced her palms and battered her legs. Her ankle caught on a thick root, turning painfully beneath her, but it slowed her fall enough that she was able to grab hold and loop one arm around it.

  Frozen with shock, she could only gasp for breath as she gazed up at the circle of light far above her. She could have sworn she’d fallen a hundred feet, but it was more like twenty. It might as well have been a mile for all the hope she had of climbing back out. She thought of the man who had looked her way. Might he have seen her fall? Maybe, but she couldn’t count on it.

  “Help!” Her scream was not one of panic, but more a matter of hedging her bets. She didn’t know if anyone at the work site could hear her from so far away, but it couldn’t hurt to try. She considered adding, “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up,” but even her morbid sense of humor wouldn’t permit it. She shouted again, this time loud enough to send a sharp, stabbing pain through her vocal cords. “I fell in a shaft! I need help.”

  She tried to calculate how long it would take for someone to run from the work site to the place she’d fallen. Not long. If the guy didn’t show soon, she had to figure he hadn’t noticed her.

  Her elbow burned and her shoulder felt like it was about to be wrenched from its socket as she struggled to hang on. She managed to take hold of the root with her other arm, giving her a measure of relief. The toes of her shoes slid across the rocky wall of the pit until she found purchase on a tiny protrusion. It wasn’t much, but it eased the pain in her shoulder.

  What to do now? Instinct told her no one was on the way to help her. Climbing up was out of the question. Could she climb deeper? It was a crazy idea, but maybe there was a place lower down where she could safely wait for help. Twisting her head around, she took a look down into the depths of the pit.

  Big mistake.

  “Oh God! Oh no!” Her head swam as she gazed down at the small circle of light reflected on the water far below her. There was nothing between her and the bottom that she could hope to stand on, and she’d never survive such a fall. She closed her eyes and took three deep, cleansing breaths. The whirlpool in her head slowed to an eddy and she opened her eyes again.

  Cold, harsh reality slapped her back into focus. She’d set off for the island without letting anyone know where she was going or when she’d return, not to mention she hadn’t obtained permission to even be on the island in the first place. No one knew she was here.

  Then she remembered her cell phone. How had she forgotten her lifeline to the rest of the world? If she could manage to get a signal down here, and she wasn’t that far below the surface, she could call for help.

  She let go of the root with her right hand and her body slid downward for one sickening moment, but she kept her toehold and her grip with her other arm. Fishing into the pocket of her jeans, she worked her phone free and tried to position it so she could see the screen.

  Damn! It was locked. Cursing her choice of phone, she balanced it on her palm and tapped in the numbers with her thumb. 1... 7... 0... 1... Unlocked! Still working one-handed, she began to tap in the number. 9... 1...

  Her foothold suddenly gave way and she screamed as she fell, scarcely clinging to the root that was now the only link between her and survival. Her cries quickly melded into a stream of curses as her cell phone slipped from her grasp. She watched its luminescent screen as it tumbled through the air, landing with a pitiful splash in the water below.

  Now, to quote her father, she was screwed like a Phillips head.

  “Drop something?”

  The voice caught her off guard and she almost lost her grip. Down below, a diver smiled up at her. He had short, blond hair, blue eyes, and an easy smile. She recognized him immediately. So this was the famous Dane Maddock. It certainly wasn’t the way she’d planned on meeting up with him. Nothing like making a good first impression.

  “What are you doing down there?” Despite her predicament, Avery couldn’t keep a tone of annoyance from her voice. Couldn’t he see she was holding on for dear life?

  “My friend and I were exploring a channel under the island when this fell in front of me.” He held up her phone.

  At that moment, another diver surfaced. This man had a shaved head and skin the color of dark chocolate. He looked at Maddock, who pointed up at her.

  “Hey girl, what’s up?”

  “Me, obviously,” she snapped.

  “Well, you ought to know the water is only about five feet deep here and the bottom is solid rock. You definitely don’t want to let go.”

  “No, really?”

  “Sorry,” Maddock said. “Willis loves to state the obvious. How are you doing up there?”

  “Hanging in there.” Just then, the root gave a little, dropping her a few inches. Her cocky façade dissolved in a girly shriek that, as soon as she realized she wasn’t plummeting to her death, at least not yet, turned her face scarlet.

  “I’m coming up to help you,” Maddock said. “Don’t you let go.”

  Avery gave her head a tiny shake, fearful that greater movement would dislodge her for good.

  “You can’t climb that!” Willis protested.

  “Sure I can. You just get back as quick as you can and bring Bones with some rope. I radioed as soon as I saw her, but I doubt they got the message.” Maddock had removed his air tank and was already feeling the wall for handholds as he gave instructions.

  Avery wondered if “bones” was some sort of climbing gear or rescue device. She couldn’t think of any reason for Willis to bring actual bones, unless they were going to rescue her with some weird voodoo magic.

  “Yeah, I heard it.” Willis tapped his mask. “Sweetheart!” he called up to her. “You know how to do a cannonball?”

  “Yes.” Avery’s voice was so small she doubted he could hear her.

  “Cool. If you slip, and I ain’t saying you’re going to, do a cannonball. Whatever you do, don’t straighten your body out. Got me?”

  Avery nodded, not wanting to consider the possibility that she might fall, but grateful for the advice. She stole another glance down and saw that Maddock had already covered a good ten feet of the wall.

  “What are you? Some kind of spider?”

  “Nope, just a SEAL.” Cords of muscle stood out on his shoulders and arms, showing the strain of the climb, but his expression and voice were relaxed. “
So, how does a nice girl like you find herself hanging around in a place like this?”

  “I just felt like dropping in,” Avery grunted. It was crazy to be bandying words with this guy like they were clever college kids, but it kept the fear and discomfort at bay. Her muscles cramped and she was losing feeling in her hands. She couldn’t hang on much longer.

  “Did Crazy Charlie hire you?” Maddock asked as he hooked his fingers in a cleft in the stone so shallow Avery couldn’t even see it.

  “I don’t know anyone by that name. I was actually coming to...” The root slipped again, this time accompanied by a cracking sound. Avery was too frightened to cry out. She just hung there, gasping for breath. Her foot found a tiny fissure and she pressed her toe into it, more for the comfort it afforded her than the weight it bore.

  “I’m almost there.” Maddock was maybe ten feet away now, but he looked like he was moving in slow motion. He was never going to get to her in time.

  The sound of her rapidly beating heart pounded in Avery’s ears. She was keenly aware of the sensation of abraded flesh against smooth wood, cold sweat running down the back of her neck, the smell of brine in the damp pit, and the crack of the root giving way.

  And then Maddock was there. He drew a sinister looking knife and jammed it into a crevice just as the root finally snapped.

  Avery felt only a momentary lurch and then a strong arm had her around the waist. She looked into Maddock’s eyes, so like the sea, and her panic subsided.

  “I’ve got you. But if you can get your fingers into that crack right there, it would help.”

  She looked up and realized his knife bore most of their weight, though he still had small footholds. She couldn’t believe he’d made it up here, but time to marvel would come later.

  She worked her left hand into a crevice, and draped her other arm around Maddock. She looked at him, uncertain what to say. She’d expected to dislike him, but now she wasn’t so sure.