Buccaneer (Dane Maddock Adventures)

by David Wood

  “To the museum?” Fisher asked.

  The idiot! Locke tried to silence him with a glare but to no avail. “I can question her first, if you like.”

  “No.” Would he have to choke Fisher to get him to shut his mouth? Clearly, the ordeal beneath the island had rattled him, but that was no excuse.

  “Wait a minute, Mister Locke.” Sheriff Meade swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and went on. “I understand you have the support of some important people, but the law is the law. I cannot allow you to take this woman away. She...”

  Locke stared him into silence, then stepped so close he could see the one silver hair in the man’s left eyebrow. The sheriff stood his ground, but he worked his jaw nervously.

  “Sheriff, you have two choices.” He raised his index finger. “You can set your people back to guarding this island so my museum staff can continue its work here undisturbed, and we shall remain friends. Or,” he raised a second finger, “you and your two deputies can take out your sidearms and attempt to stop us. I would prefer we we remain friends, and I would consider it a great personal favor if you permitted me some time alone with this woman before I return her to your custody.”

  For an instant, he thought Meade would go for his weapon, but the sheriff thrust his hands in his pockets instead and stalked away.

  “Have her back to me by morning,” he said to no one in particular. The deputies sent twin withering looks in Locke’s direction before following Meade.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to question her?” Fisher asked when they were out of earshot. He turned to watch the young woman being led away.

  Locke turned and punched Fisher in the jaw. The man crumpled to the ground.

  “What was that for?” he mumbled.

  “Stupidity,” Locke said. “You speak of interrogation in front of the man whose son you tortured and killed only a few days ago?”

  “He’s too dumb to put it together,” Fisher said, still holding his jaw.

  “You don’t know that. In any case, your special brand of questioning gained us no new information and added a complication. Between that and tonight’s fiasco, I no longer trust your judgment.”

  “I’m sorry. I always give everything I have to the cause.”

  “Morgan will decide whether or not to accept your apology. For now, I want everyone out of here except the museum staff. They may continue their research just as we planned. You will remain here as security until your fate is determined.”

  “I’ll see to it immediately.” Fisher wobbled to his feet and staggered away.

  Locke shook his head. Fisher’s failure notwithstanding, Morgan would consider this Locke’s responsibility, and it was. Morgan could temporarily be assuaged by the news of the temple beneath the island, but he would have to produce results soon or she would grow impatient. Perhaps this girl could help him bring things back into balance.

  Chapter 17

  Where could they have gone? Dane looked around, but there was no one in sight.

  “Maddock?” A voice called from the woods. “Bones? Thank God.” Avery appeared from the shadows and hurled herself into Bones’ arms.

  Dane raised an eyebrow and Bones shrugged.

  “What happened?” Dane asked.

  “Angel’s been arrested. I went over to the shore to look for you and, when I came back, they were putting her in their patrol car. I feel like I should have tried to stop them, but what could I do?”

  “Nothing,” Bones reassured her. “They would have taken you in too.” He looked over the top of Avery’s head and scowled. “Let’s go get her. Meade and his crew have pushed this too far. They can’t just take my sister in on some bogus charge.”

  “I know,” Dane said. “First, we need to get out of here in case they come back. Then we’ll figure out the best way to handle this.”

  Avery handed him her spare set of keys and, only then, did she notice the casket they’d recovered from the island. She looked at him in surprise and excitement.

  “It’s sealed shut. We’ll take a look at it when we’re somewhere safe. Bones, you ride in the back and keep the casket with you. If we get stopped, you might have to slip away.”

  “No problem,” he said.

  Dane took them on a route that led up the coast, away from town and, he hoped, the sheriff’s patrols. As he drove, he fought to suppress the rage that boiled inside of him. Right now, all was forgotten except the thought of Angel locked in a jail cell. He wanted to go in, guns blazing, and rescue her. He had a vague picture in his head of carrying her out through the front doors, action hero style, and laughed inside at the image. Where had this sudden hero complex come from?

  As rational thought took hold, he considered their options. He and Bones were on the sheriff’s radar, and likely wouldn’t get anywhere if they showed up at the jail. Besides, they were in a foreign country. What she needed right now was bail money, a good attorney, or both.

  “We need to call Charlie,” he finally said. “He’s got money and connections we don’t have. If we show up there, we might get arrested too.”

  Bones considered that for several seconds before acquiescing. “Yeah, Charlie’s the man for the job. He can take care of getting her out while we follow up on this.” He tapped the casket.

  “The mystery’s solved,” Dane said. “That casket was the only thing on the island. Once it’s opened, that’s it.”

  “Hardly,” Avery said. “There were three chests. Three treasures. I don’t think Dad planned on quitting after only one. He’d follow it all the way to the end.”

  “You know how it goes with us, Maddock.” Bones leaned forward and rested his chin on the back of Avery’s seat. “The first thing we find is never it. There’s always more.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Dane chuckled. “You can’t blame a guy for wishing for a quiet life.”

  “I’m not even going to comment.” Bones sat quietly for a minute, then suddenly burst out laughing.

  “What’s so funny?” Avery asked.

  “Angel’s going to be pissed when she finds out we started without her. She’s been dying to go on another of our little adventures.”

  “Do you do this sort of thing often?” Avery looked from Bones to Dane, who grinned ruefully

  “You have no idea.”

  They contacted Charlie, who assured them he would take care of Angel, as well as send a couple of his men to the cottage to collect everyone’s remaining belongings. They didn’t provide him with any details of what they had discovered beneath Oak Island, but assured him the search was over and encouraged him to pack up his crew and return to the States as soon as possible. By the time they rendezvoused with Corey and Willis, who met them aboard Sea Foam, they had filled Avery in on all the details of the hidden Templar church. She was fascinated and couldn’t wait to see the pictures they’d taken, but was even more eager to see what was hidden in the casket.

  While Willis piloted the boat toward international waters, Dane, Bones, Corey, and Avery gathered belowdecks. Using small chisels, Dane worked at the seal until he freed the lid. He paused and took a long look at the others. This was the moment he relished— the edge of revelation.

  “Stop titillating us and open it already,” Corey said.

  “Dude, you said tit.” Bones elbowed Corey, who winced and rubbed his arm.

  “Are they always like this?” Avery cast an annoyed glance at Bones and Corey.

  “What did I do?” Corey complained.

  “Never mind,” Dane said. “Masks on and we’ll do this.” When they had all donned surgical masks, Dane took hold of the lid and lifted it free.

  The inside was stuffed with a tangle of string brown material.

  “Coconut fiber,” Avery said. “It was used for packing material. They even found some in the Money Pit.”

  Dane reached a gloved hand inside and pushed the fiber aside to reveal a dagger with a dark, mottled blade and a gleaming white handle. He looked up to see Avery holding the cask
et lid in trembling hands, and Bones and Corey looking over her shoulder.

  “Carnwennan.” She turned the lid so Dane could see the Latin word carved on the inside. The word was unfamiliar, but the look in her eyes told him it was significant.

  “And what is that?” he asked.

  “King Arthur’s dagger.” She leaned in for a closer look. “He had three legendary weapons: Caliburn, which we know as Excalibur, Rhongomnyiad, his spear, and Carnwennan, his dagger.”

  “Wait, so we’ve just found proof that...” Bones began.

  “King Arthur was an actual, historical figure?” Dane finished. His mind was numb with shock. He’d expected to find treasure beneath Oak Island, but not this.

  “It was one of the legends associated with Oak Island, but probably the most far-fetched one of them all.” Avery’s voice trembled.

  “But why would somebody try to kill us for it?” Bones asked. “I mean, it’s a huge discovery, but there’s got to be more.”

  Dane withdrew the dagger and held it up to the light. The blade was made of a substance unfamiliar to him. It was mottled gray, its surface covered in a hexagonal grid of alternating light and dark metals. The blade was honed to razor sharpness, and the butt was translucent, almost black, like obsidian.

  As he gazed at it, the handle began to pulse with a dull, bluish white glow that gain strength with every beat.

  “What is it doing?” Avery took a step back as if it were a venomous snake.

  Dane didn’t reply, but removed his hand from the hilt and, carefully holding the knife by the blade, held it up to the light. The pulses came faster, the light more intense until it shone so bright that Dane had to avert his eyes, and a low hum filled the room.

  And then it stopped.

  The hilt no longer shone, but it glowed a brighter white than before. Pinpoints of light like tiny galaxies sparkled deep in the handle and butt, and threads of blue flickered around the hexagonal patterns on the blade.

  “It’s like it absorbed energy from the light,” Avery said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “We have.” Bones grimaced.

  Dane examined the dagger closely, carefully running his finger along its length. There was something odd about the way the butt was made. It was concave on the bottom and flattened out so that it did not quite conform to the dimensions of the hilt. Frowning, he pressed his thumb into the recess. Nothing. Then he gave it a twist.

  The dagger vibrated and his vision swam for a split second.

  “What the hell?” Bones said.

  “Maddock! Where did you go?” Avery sounded panicked.

  “I’m standing right here.”

  “No way.” Bones reached out awkwardly, as if he were playing Blind Man’s Bluff, and grabbed Dane by the forearm. “He really is here,” he marveled.

  “But... how?” She gaped at a spot a few inches to Dane’s left.

  “What are you two talking about?” Dane looked back and forth between the two of them. If it were only Bones, he’d figure it was a lame joke, but Avery appeared rattled.

  “Dude, you’re invisible.” Bones’ matter of fact tone was void of humor. “One second you were there and then you were gone.”

  “It must be the dagger.” He explained what he had done, and what he had seen and felt.

  “The stories are true,” Avery whispered. “Legend says Carnwennan had the power to cloak its owner in shadow. It really does make you invisible.”

  Dane turned the butt back and, once again, the room swam for an instant.

  “He’s back!” Bones said. “Here, let me see that.”

  Dane handed him the dagger and, a moment later, Bones vanished.

  “I don’t feel anything,” Bones’ voice said from nowhere. “Am I really invisible?”

  “Yes, but we still recognize your foul stench,” Dane deadpanned.

  “Star Wars quotes are my job,” Bones said.

  Dane stared at the spot where he heard Bones’ voice. He thought about what Avery had said. Carnwennan cloaked its bearer in shadow. He wondered...

  “Bones, do me a favor and move side-to-side a little.”

  “You mean like line dancing? You know I hate anything redneckish.”

  “Just do it.”

  “Fine, I’ll do the Casper Slide. Ready? To the left!” Bones began chanting lyrics and, presumably, dancing.

  Dane followed the sound and, sure enough, he saw movement.

  “Avery, Corey, can you see it?” He drew them to his side and pointed. “If you really focus, you can tell a difference between the space where Bones is and the wall behind it.”

  Avery narrowed her eyes and, a few seconds later, smiled.

  “It’s like an imperfect piece of glass. You can see through it, but something’s just a little bit off.”

  Bones stopped chanting and, an instant later, reappeared.

  “I don’t think a woman’s ever called me imperfect and a little bit off in one breath.”

  “No one’s ever made the mistake of thinking you were only a little bit off.” Dane relieved his friend of the dagger and held it out so everyone could see it. “Look at the pattern on the blade and think about what this dagger does.”

  “It’s a cloaking device!” Bones said, following Dane’s line of thought almost immediately. “This isn’t some magic weapon. It’s seriously advanced technology.”

  “Scientist are in the early stages of developing technology that bends light rays, making a particular spot invisible,” Dane said, noticing Avery’s confused expression. “Nobody’s achieved anything like this, though.”

  “But this has clearly been down there for centuries. And if it’s really Carnwennan, how did they get their hands on such technology?”

  “I don’t know,” Dane said, though he was turning over a myriad of ideas in his mind. “But now we know why someone would kill in order to get their hands on it.”

  Chapter 18

  Angel sat perfectly still, her eyes on the widening band of gray light where someone was opening the door to her small room. She was locked in what looked like a basement storage room, but she didn’t know where. A dark figure loomed in shadow, and then a light clicked on. In the instant before she closed her eyes against the sudden glare, she caught a glimpse of a blocky man with red hair.

  “Glad to see you’re awake.” He smiled. “We need to talk.”

  Angel’s only reply was to suggest he use an orifice other than his mouth when speaking. She usually liked a guy with a British accent, but not under these circumstances.

  “That won’t do.” Still smiling, he shook his head, his eyes roving up and down her body. “I’ll explain.” He pulled up a stool and sat down next to her. “We want information, and we will have it. If you talk to me, things will go easier for you. If you talk to Locke...” He let the words hang there, and gave her a look that told her Locke was the last person she wanted to deal with.

  “Where am I?”

  “We’re in the museum. Now, tell us what we need to know and we can have you back with your friends in a thrice.”

  “Right.” She didn’t believe a word of it. “Explain to me why I should believe anything a kidnapper tells me.”

  “I didn’t kidnap you, love. I’m merely gathering information.” He winked, making her stomach twist. Even if he wasn’t her captor he’d be creepy. That big, moon face and massive body reminded her of the inbred killers that hacked their way through so many horror flicks. “I’m not one of the bad ones.”

  “So, you’ll take these off of me,” she indicated her handcuffed wrists, “and let me go.”

  “Sure.”

  The reply surprised Angel. She searched his eyes for signs of deception.

  “I’ll take the cuffs off right now to show you I’m a reasonable man and, after you answer my questions, you can walk. Hell, I’ll even give you a lift to the airport.”

  No way in hell was she getting in a car with this creep, not that she believed for a second that
he intended to release her, but she played along. If he was willing to uncuff her, that meant he didn’t expect a girl of her size to pose any kind of threat. At a good two hundred-fifty pounds, she imagined few women, or men for that matter, were a threat. She’d have to be fast and would need a bit of luck on her side, but what did she have to lose? They were going to kill her anyway.

  “Fair enough.” She held up her hands, and watched as he fished a key out of his pocket and unlocked one side of the cuffs. The moment he turned his attention to the other cuff, she struck.

  She drove her fist into his Adam’s Apple, and he reeled back, gasping and clutching at his throat. Angel sprang to her feet and whipped her left hand around. Still locked onto her left wrist, the handcuffs cracked across the bridge of his nose, sending up a spray of blood that spattered across the wall. She attacked with fury, knowing the blows she had struck were far from incapacitating. She poured all her strength into an overhand right that caught the taller man squarely on the chin, followed it up with a knee to the groin, and pounded away with rapid flurry of punches to the chin, face, and temple. It was like chopping down a tree. He was too stunned by surprise and the force of her blows to do more than throw up his beefy hands in a weak attempt to fend off her attack.

  It did no good. Angel was a well-conditioned professional athlete and this was nothing more than a training exercise to her. She threw in a few hard kicks to the side of the knee and, slowly, the man slid down to the floor, Angel delivering kicks and elbow strikes as he went down. When he finally fell into a sitting position, his eyes were glassy and his face a mask of blood. She drove her knee into his forehead for good measure, smashing the back of his head against the wall. His eyes rolled back in his head and he was out.

  She made a hasty search of the floor, found the handcuff key, and freed her wrist, then searched his pockets for a weapon or anything else that might be of use, but all she found was a key ring. She took it just in case and crept to the door, tried the handle, and found it unlocked. Holding her breath, she opened it an inch and peered out.

  She was looking at a narrow corridor lit by a row of bare bulbs. At the far end, a staircase led up into the darkness. Her pounding heart was the only sound she heard, so she slipped through the door and closed it behind her. She tried three keys on the ring before finding the proper one, and locked the thug in.