At their current rates of speed, it appears the hurricanes will make landfall around the globe at approximately the same time, four days from now. Governments around the world are urging their citizens to ready themselves for the worst.
Stay with us here at CNN as we bring you the latest information on what is now being touted by many as “Stormaggedon.” I’m Julia Saxon, and we’ll be right back.
********
“Six hurricanes forming at the same time? I think it’s safe to say Daedric is behind this.” Greco paced the floor as he addressed the group.
Orano stood at the picture window overlooking the small town of Halkidona, just outside of Pella. His coffee-colored eyes, almost the exact shade of his skin, stared intently at the sky. “If that report’s right, we have less than four days to stop him, with no idea where he is or what he’s got.”
After a moment, Mirissa interjected. “What about Flip? He’s got to have some information about what Daedric was looking for.”
“Are you kidding?” Orano’s biceps flexed as though they were about to burst through his taut skin as he spun around to face the team. “He worked with the man. What makes you think you can trust him?”
“Does it matter? Right now we’ve got nothing. As far as I can see, Flip is our only shot at getting any answers.” Mirissa glanced to each person in the room. “Does anyone have a better idea?”
Myrine crossed her arms over her chest. “Call him and get him over here. Let’s find out what he knows. In the meantime, let’s see if Julian’s got anything for us.” She dialed his direct number and placed her phone on the scratched coffee table.
“What?” Julian’s curt greeting didn’t fill the team with optimism as to his progress on the case.
“Is everything all right?” Myrine asked.
“Yeah, sorry. I’m just not getting any traction. I can’t find a single reference to anything even close to those weird clouds, and now with the storms …” His voice trailed off.
“We’re all working blind, here, Julian. Keep looking. What about the writing on Mirissa’s key? Have you been able to decipher it?” Myrine said.
The group listened to their computer genius tap away at his keyboard before answering. “Sort of. Some of the symbols are similar to Greek letters, but others don’t match anything I’ve been able to find. I’ve got Big Duck running a modified translation program right now. I’ll keep you posted.”
Big Duck was the nickname Julian gave his Cray computer. He told them he chose the name because, like a duck, a computer didn’t look all that busy on the surface, but underneath it was furiously working away. Mirissa thought it might have more to do with the way he often looked like he wasn’t doing anything other than staring at a glowing monitor.
“I did find something interesting on that video footage Mirissa took at Daedric’s dig site,” Julian said. “The pile of dust on the floor wasn’t dust. It was remains.”
“Remains?” Steve asked.
“Yep. Cremated remains. When I blew the image up, I saw the tiny bone fragments which are always left behind after a body is burned.”
Mirissa subconsciously wiped her hands on her jeans. She’d touched that pile shortly after entering the chamber to remove her boot print. “Are they human remains?”
“There’s no way to know without testing a sample, but considering there were two other archeologists there and only one body, my guess would be yes.”
“Ew!” Mirissa cringed. “I need to wash my hands. I’ll be right back.”
The scalding water and excessive amount of anti-bacterial soap helped ease Mirissa’s mind. Although she’d touched more than her fair share of ashy remains, they’d always belonged to Kakodaemons, not humans. Knowing the pile of debris she’d so casually stepped on was once a living person sent a shiver down her spine.
She re-entered the living area just in time to hear her mother give one final task to Julian. “Phillip Petrakis. Get me everything you can find.”
Chapter 8
Flip sat cross-legged on the end of his bed, watching the news anchor on television strive to suppress his glee about the approaching apocalypse. Humans had the strangest tendency to love the excitement revolving around horrific events. The fact that they gave a name to every storm that had the ability to kill, showed just how twisted they could be.
Perhaps he had a twisted streak, too. He couldn’t help his own feeling of excitement at what was to come. Not the storms, of course. Rather the wrath of Ares. The god of war had a plan, and his recently freed sister continued to screw with it. Not only did the key-holder know she had a task to perform, but the hurricanes gave her ample motivation to figure out how to do it.
Flip smiled at the thought of all the drama on Mount Olympus he’d be missing. By now, everyone would know Eris had been released, and Zeus would be out for blood. For all his pompous “King of the Gods” crap, he had one glaring weakness. Zeus loved his humans.
While most of the gods looked at humans as playthings to be toyed with and laughed about, Zeus seemed to almost admire them. No matter how often they were beaten down and shown how insignificant and useless they really were, humans never gave up.
Flip could relate to that, although he knew Zeus felt no admiration for him.
Tired of being an errand boy for Ares, the most ungrateful higher god he’d ever had the displeasure of serving, Flip came up with his own plan. He would play both sides against the middle until such time that he controlled the outcome. He would help the key-holder achieve her goal—almost—then use his newfound position of power to force Ares to give him everything he wanted.
A strange ringing noise interrupted his thoughts. He didn’t understand how humans dealt with the constant cacophony of sounds assailing them. Natural noises were one thing, but their multitude of screeching devices were deafening.
Telephone.
Flip jumped off the bed and ran to the table under the window, almost knocking the ringing plastic phone to the floor in his haste to grab it. “Hello?”
“Hi, Mr. Petrakis. This is Mirissa Colson. We met earlier at Pella.”
Flip tried to wipe the enormous smile from his face so she wouldn’t hear it in his voice. “What can I do for you?”
“Well, this might sound strange, but my friends and I need your help. Are you available to meet? Like, right now?”
He skipped around his tiny hotel room as his thoughts raced. “Of course. But I’m not sure what I could possibly help you with.”
“I’ll explain everything when you get here.” She reeled off the address to their hotel, though he didn’t need it.
“I’ll see you shortly,” he said, ending the call. It took every bit of Flip’s self-control to not teleport over there immediately. He watched the clock tick away one minute after another, until enough had passed for his arrival to appear timely. Then he teleported.
Their hotel seemed far less grand than he’d expected. The girl was supposed to be Artemis’s secret weapon. Why would she subject herself to lodgings that were so obviously below her stature?
As he walked through the lobby, ignoring the fearful people watching the news, Flip readied himself for the meeting. He had to ensure he didn’t come across as too eager to help, but also needed them to not dismiss him as worthless. Not an easy task for a lower god of his level of insignificance.
His breath caught in his throat when the key-holder answered his knock on the door. “Hi,” was the only greeting his brain would produce. Her beauty stunned him. In the darkness at the ruins, he’d been unable to glean much more than her height but, in the room’s electric light, he couldn’t escape her loveliness. He shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, she’d been blessed by Artemis.
As she led him through the room, introducing him to her friends and family, Flip felt more and more uncomfortable. Were they all blessed by the gods? Was he cursed to forever be surrounded by gorgeous people, even on earth? Every bit of confidence he’d drummed up earlier drowned in
the sea of beauty this group produced.
“Thanks very much for coming, Mr. Petrakis. We’re in a bit of a tight spot and need all the help we can get,” the girl’s mother said with a smile that actually seemed genuine. She pointed to the couch and gestured for him to sit.
“How can I be of service?” he asked.
Mirissa took a seat next to him while her mother answered his question. “We’re investigating the murder at your former dig site. We were hoping you could tell us what your group was searching for.”
Flip’s gaze darted from one person to the next before settling on the enormous man they called Orano. The look on the behemoth’s chiseled face said he wouldn’t trust a word Flip said. “I don’t really know.”
The big man snorted before crossing his tree-trunk size arms over his chest.
“I mean,” Flip continued, “Stapleton found some ancient writing at another excavation that told him where to find some super-important artifact. He said it would be a bigger find than Tutankhamen’s tomb but didn’t elaborate more than that. In truth, I don’t think he even knew exactly what we were looking for.”
“Where was this writing? Do you remember what it said?” Myrine asked.
Flip leaned forward as though about to impart a secret. “That’s the strange thing. It was on one of the palace walls, in an area that had already been reviewed by hundreds of people. It simply appeared one day a few months ago.”
Mirissa placed her hand on his arm. “Do you remember when?”
Collecting the thoughts he’d lost track of when she touched him, Flip took a deep breath and said, “The end of May, I believe.”
The girl put her hand to her chest, presumably covering the key he knew hung there, and glanced at her mother. “Can you show it to us?”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t.” One look at Orano, and Flip quickly elaborated on his answer. “The writing disappeared again shortly after it was found. Stapleton was the only one who saw it. That’s why he was able to keep his dig a secret. No one else even knew there was something to look for.”
“What about the other archeologists in your group? What were their stories?” Myrine asked.
“Luke Campbell was Stapleton’s right hand man. I’m afraid I don’t know much more about him than that. He was nice to me, which is more than I can say for the others.” When he met Mirissa’s gaze, Flip realized what he’d said. Her look of pity shamed him into glancing away. “Rick Aresson joined them around the same time I did. He’s a bit of a jerk.”
Flip watched as Mirissa sent a questioning look to her mother, getting a nod in response. She twisted in her seat to face him. “We believe Rick Aresson may have been an imposter. We think he wanted whatever Jonathon Stapleton was trying to find.”
Flip feigned surprise. “I thought I was alone in my suspicions. Stapleton and Campbell didn’t see it, but I did. Rick is a self-serving twit.”
“So, you thought Rick was an imposter, too?” Mirissa asked.
“I guess great minds think twice,” Flip said with a smile.
“Think alike,” Mirissa corrected. “Great minds think alike.”
“Yes, sorry. I mix up my words sometimes. But Rick is a twit. I don’t even think he’s a real archeologist. You should’ve seen how scared he got when they opened the chamber. It …” His words trailed off as he realized his mistake.
Orano stepped forward. “I thought you said you were fired three days ago.”
Flip’s mind raced to find a plausible explanation for his lie. He needed them to trust him for his plan to work. “I lied.”
“I knew it,” Orano grumbled.
“Look,” Flip began, staring at his hands. “I was there when they opened the chamber, but I have nothing to do with the murder. I swear.”
“Then why did you lie?” Mirissa asked. She actually looked hurt by his deception.
“I was afraid. I didn’t think anyone would believe me. I can’t go to jail for murder. Look at me. And whoever killed Stapleton could be coming after me next.”
“Please, Flip, tell us what you know. You’re safe with us.” The girl once again touched his arm.
The sincerity in the girl’s voice caught him off guard. Flip had grown accustomed to anger, condescension, belittling, and lots of other nasty tones. Kindness, however, was a new one. “There was a box in the chamber. When Jonathon and Luke tried to carry it out, they dropped it and it opened. That’s when I passed out. I woke up a short while later beside Stapleton’s body. He looked horrible. I panicked, and I left. I know I shouldn’t have, but ...”
Mirissa squeezed his hand. “We understand.” She gave a look of warning to Orano before continuing. “We’ll keep you safe. I promise.”
“What can you tell us about the box?” Myrine asked.
“Well, it was more of a chest with a hinged lid, like in your pirate movies. It looked to be made of metal, but I didn’t get close enough to be sure,” Flip said.
“All right. It’s a start. Is there anything else you can think of that might help us?” Myrine asked.
“Nothing, I mean, other than the writing near the chamber.”
Mirissa’s eyes widened. “What writing?”
“In the tunnel to the chamber’s entrance. Didn’t I mention that already?” Flip cringed when Orano growled.
“No, Flip. You didn’t mention that,” Myrine said. “Perhaps you could tell us what the writing said.”
“Just your basic warning of ‘Do not open the box or everyone will die.’ The same kind of thing you find at every tomb. Although, the script is much older than most. I figure it was written about five thousand years ago.”
Mirissa sat straight, her interest obviously peaked. “And you can translate the writing?”
“Sure. I’ve got a knack for all things ancient Greek.”
Myrine stood up with her hand outstretched. “Thank you very much for your help, Mr. Petrakis. We’ll be in touch.”
Taking that as his cue to leave, Flip shook her hand and said his goodbyes.
“I’ll walk you out to your car,” Mirissa said.
“Oh, that’s really not necessary. I’m fine to walk by myself.” Flip straightened his spine to show his bravado.
“It’s really no problem. You came all the way out here in the middle of the night to help us. It’s the least I can do.”
Flip nodded his agreement and trudged out of the hotel with Mirissa at his side. When he got to the parking lot, he waved his hand in the general direction of an automobile and said, “That’s mine. You can go back inside, now.”
“Okay,” Mirissa said. “Drive safe.”
As he walked toward the vehicle, he glanced over his shoulder, only to find the smiling girl still standing there, watching over him. He used his powers to unlock the car door and, after sliding into the driver’s seat, start the engine. Waving another goodbye to the over-protective Mirissa in an unsuccessful attempt to get her to leave, he noticed the interior of the car. Stick shift. Crap. Resigning himself to yet another show of his stupidity, he gave it his best shot.
The grinding sound of the transmission, accompanied by the jerky starts and stops, pierced the quiet night as he slowly made his way out of the parking lot. In his rearview mirror, he watched the girl laugh, as she turned to go back inside the hotel. When she moved out of sight, Flip teleported to his own hotel room, leaving the stalled automobile on the side of the road.
“Hello, Flip.” Daedric leaned casually against the wall. “It’s about time you got back.”
Flip cringed at the demi-god’s cruel smile. “Why are you here? I’m making progress with the girl.”
“Not quickly enough.” Daedric looked far too pleased for Flip’s comfort. “Ares sent me to speed things up a bit.”
Chapter 9
When Mirissa walked into the hotel room, she found the team in the midst of conversation.
“I still don’t think Flip can be trusted,” Orano said. “You heard him. Every time he spoke about Daedric, it
was in the present tense. But when he talked about the other archeologists, he used the past tense. He knows more than he’s saying.”
“Agreed,” Myrine said. “But if he’s able to decipher the writing on Mirissa’s key, we need him.”
Julian’s voice came over the speaker on her mother’s phone. “I’ve changed my search to include anything mentioning an old box or chest as well as the clouds and storms, but I don’t expect it to help much.”
“Why not?” Myrine asked.
“Because I’ve already got thousands of hits.”
“And?” Myrine prodded.
“Pandora’s Box seems to be the only thing fitting all of our criteria.”
Silence filled the room as all eyes turned to Myrine. She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. “Could that even be possible? I mean, the story of Pandora’s Box is a myth, right?”
“Sure. Just like Amazons, Greek gods, shape shifters …” Julian’s voice trailed off as his point sunk in.
Myrine ran her fingers through her hair. “We need to speak to Artemis.”
Mirissa’s cell phone chimed its alert to an incoming message. Her heart sank as she read it. I have your little friend. Bring the key to the ancient market in Thessaloniki in one hour or he dies. The picture that accompanied the text showed a smiling Daedric standing beside Flip, whose eyes blazed with anger.
The last time Mirissa received a text from Daedric, her father and some of his Navy SEAL buddies were the ones captured. At the time, she’d been foolish enough to think she could handle the demi-god by herself. That mistake caused the death of a good man. Since then, she’d been acutely aware of every one of her weaknesses, and she knew she had neither the strength nor the talent to go it alone.
“Guys? We have a problem.” She showed them the text.
Orano spoke first. “You can’t be considering trading the key for that guy. We know nothing about him, and even if we did, the key is too important to give up.”
“Of course she won’t trade the key,” Myrine said. “But we can’t leave Mr. Petrakis with Daedric.”
Pandora (Book 3) (The Omega Group) Page 4
