by Rob Jones
“I hate that these guys can’t last longer,” Lexi whined to Ryan.
“Said the actress to the bench of bishops,” he replied.
“Don’t overdo it,” Scarlet called out from across the room.
“Sorry.”
A quiet voice squeaked from under the desk. “Is it over?” It was Khatibi.
“Yes, and thanks for the help,” Scarlet said. During the fight the overhead light had gotten knocked and was now swinging back and forth creating crazy moving shadows over the cluttered room.
“Ah, you’re welcome!” he said. “Because while you were brawling like thugs I found what we’ll need when we get to the Pillars of Hercules.” He pushed his head out from behind the safety of the desk and looked up at them, blinking at the swaying light bulb. “Shall we?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
The Eurocopter’s powerful Turboméca Arriel’s turboshaft powerplant was cruising them high above the Moroccan clouds. They reflected the bright light of the crescent moon back up to the chopper, almost as bright as day. Everyone was tired, and most were sleeping, but Hawke, Lea, Ryan and Maria were awake and counting the minutes down until their arrival at Jebel Musa, the Mount of Moses.
The Pillars of Hercules was the ancient name given to the two elevations either side of the Straits of Gibraltar – the Rock of Gibraltar to the north and Jebel Musa to the south. Some had argued that the southern pillar was Monte Hacho in Ceuta, a Spanish city in Africa which bordered Morocco. Khatibi had spent his life studying the region and was certain the southern pillar was Jebel Musa.
On the flight, Khatibi and Ryan and used the professor’s research to work out the inscription was also indicating some kind of temple, and given Jebel Musa was on the tourist trail, that meant it had to be underground.
“So we’re definitely looking for an entrance inside the mountain,” Khatibi repeated.
Scarlet cupped her hands on the glass so she could see below and peered dismissively out the chopper’s window. “So that pointy little mountain is the southern Pillar of Hercules?”
Khatibi nodded. “Yes.”
“Not more bloody potholing,” was all she said, and then she leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes again.
Lea looked at the twin peaks far below them. “So what’s the skinny on old Heracles, Ry. Why did het get these named after him?”
“During his Twelve Labours, this was the furthest west he got… simple. Back in those days, if you were Greek, then this was pretty much the end of the world. It was the tenth challenge, when he had to collect the Cattle of Geryon.”
“Now he’s talking about cows,” Scarlet said. “Heaven help us.”
“Let him finish, Cairo,” Maria snapped.
Camacho stepped in. “Just everyone calm down. Ryan – please.”
“I’m not talking about cows per se, but Hercules’s mission to cross the Libyan desert to fetch them. It was one of his twelve labours. There are several references made by writers such as Pindar or Strabo that refer to the limits of his journey in the far west as being marked by the Pillars of Hercules, and Plato even goes so far to state that it is beyond these pillars that Atlantis is to be found.”
“People think of these legends as all taking place in ancient Greece but this is not always the case,” Khatibi said from nowhere. “We have the Pillars of Hercules and part of the Atlas Mountains right here in Morocco, for example.”
Ryan nodded in agreement. “According to the myths, there’s a famous legend detailing a meeting between Atlas and Heracles, so we know they met at least once. As you know, Heracles was made to perform twelve labours as a punishment for killing his family.”
“Which on reflection seems fair enough,” Lexi said.
“Oh, sorry,” Scarlet said. “Is that you being funny or were you making a serious point?”
“Drop dead.”
“Kapow!” Ryan said, giggling.
Scarlet looked at him. “Really?”
“Sorry. Anyway, so off he goes on his twelve labours and one of them just happens to be getting hold of some golden apples.”
“As in the golden apples of Valhalla fame?” Lea said.
He nodded.
“All this shit is coming together,” Scarlet said, lighting a cigarette. “I just wish I cared.”
Ryan shook his head at her and continued. “So these particular golden apples belonged to Hera, Zeus’s wife and sister.”
“The plot thickens,” Lexi said. “Wait – what? His wife and sister?”
“I’m afraid so, yes, and if that’s not scary enough, the garden was also guarded by Ladon, a sort of cross between a serpent and a dragon. Definitely not fuckaroundable with, if you get my drift. The constellation Draco is supposed to be Ladon.”
“We finally reach your millionth factoid,” Scarlet said.
“Anyway,” Ryan said, ignoring her, “old Ladon was guarding the Garden of the Hesperides, and…”
Lea looked at Ryan, confused. “Wait – who?”
“The Hesperides – the famous evening nymphs.”
“Oh, I remember.”
“Great. So the thing is Heracles was reluctant to go and fight Ladon for the golden apples so he went and asked Atlas if he would do it for him.”
“As you would.”
“Except Atlas was busy holding the entire world on his shoulders.”
“Sorry to interrupt,” Scarlet said, “but are we still working on the premise that all of this shit really happened, or not? It’s just that the whole planet being held up by one chap is pushing even my broad mind.”
“It might be metaphorical,” he said bluntly. “So Heracles made a deal with Atlas that involved him holding up the world while Atlas got the apples, the only problem being that when Atlas returned with the apples, he offered to finish the task himself, and Heracles got the impression he was trying to fool him into carrying the world forever.”
“So what happened?”
“Heracles got sneaky and told Atlas he accepted the offer, but that first he wanted to rearrange his cloak, so he asked Atlas to hold the world for just a second.”
“And then what?”
“Then Heracles took the apples and ran away, of course.”
“This is riveting – it really is, boy – but is it going anywhere?”
“Maybe – some of these symbols seem to refer to the golden apples.”
“So we’re looking for more golden apples?”
“Not at all,” Khatibi said. “Golden apples are a metaphor for immortality throughout European folklore.”
“So we’re searching for more sodding eternity?” Scarlet said.
“We’re searching for Atlantis, Cairo,” Lea said. “I thought we were all on that page by now.”
“And this mysterious temple is down there somewhere?” Maria said.
“Heads up,” Hawke said. “We’re here and we’re not the first ones.”
Peering down on the mountain’s amazing twin peaks with their night vision they were able to see Dirk Kruger’s expedition already set up and a dozen men milling around some pickup trucks.
“Bastard worked it out first,” Hawke said.
“He had more to go on,” Lea said, trying to soften his frustration and disappointment.
“Not fun being late to the party, though,” Camacho said.
Scarlet looked at him, lingering a second too long at his biceps. “You’re very good at stating the obvious, darling.”
“That’s not all I’m good at, babe.”
Ryan rolled his eyes. “I’d say get a room but first, I’m not sure there’s a hotel room big enough to accommodate your two egos and second, we are somewhat busy at the moment.”
Scarlet tickled Ryan’s chin with her finger. “Aww – is Baby Ryan jealous?”
“Jealous?” Ryan and Camacho said in unison.
“Oh please,” Scarlet said, leaning forward to kiss the American.
“Guys,” Lea said. “Ry’s right. Can we leave the mati
ng ritual till later?”
Scarlet agreed with Lea, but squeezed Camacho’s bicep and gave him a wink before pulling her gun out and sliding a round into the chamber. The chopper was descending now.
Camacho smiled back. “This really could be the start of a beautiful relationship.”
“Don’t count on it,” Ryan mumbled. “Scarlet doesn’t do beautiful relationships, but she does have a good line in rough shags. Just ask the Royal Navy.”
“Hey, you little nerdgasm,” Scarlet said. “I’ll give you a good line in rough shags, all right.”
“No thanks, I’m in love with Maria and I couldn’t afford the pharmacy bills anyway.”
Before Scarlet could respond, Lea pointed to a column of smoke that was now pouring out of a crack in the mountain’s southern slope. “Looks like they might have found what they’re looking for, guys.”
“At least it saves us fucking about in the dark,” Scarlet said.
Hawke raised the night vision binoculars to his eyes again and leaned forward. “Hang on a second – what the hell’s he got down there?”
“What is it?” Lea asked.
He took a second look and shook his head in disbelief. “He’s got a sodding Kaman down there.”
Ryan looked over at him in the darkness of the Eurocopter. “Sorry, Dirk Kruger has an alligatorid crocodilian down there?”
Scarlet rolled her eyes. “A what?”
“Caiman,” Lea said. “That’s how Ryan says caiman.”
“Why the hell would Kruger have a caiman down there?” Camacho asked.
“Kaman,” Hawke said, spelling it out. “Not sodding caiman.”
“I thought that was odd,” Ryan said.
“What the hell is a Kaman?” Lea asked.
“The Kaman K-MAX is a synchropter. Lockheed Martin’s finest autonomous flying technology, right here, right now for your pleasure.”
“Sorry – so it’s a helicopter?” Ryan said, taking the binoculars and having a look.
“Yes and no,” Hawke said. “It’s a synchropter, like I just said. It has two intermeshing rotors that give it tremendous lift. It can carry things heavier than itself.”
“Why the hell has Kruger got one of these out here?”
Ryan answered. “My guess is he was one step ahead and knew about those rocks blocking the entrance to the vault.”
“Eh?”
Ryan passed the binoculars back to Hawke and he saw the Kaman rising into the air down on the side of the mountain. Attached to the four-hook carousel beneath it was an enormous boulder which the Kaman was now lifting away from the rocky slope to reveal an entrance.
“Let’s get down there,” Hawke said. “By the looks of things we’ve no time to waste.”
They landed and hiked along a goat track until they reached Kruger’s camp where they took cover behind some boulders. From here they watched the last of the South African archaeologist’s crew disappear inside the mountain.
“Looks like we’re on,” Hawke said.
They reached the entrance and saw Kruger had rigged up a small generator for light and drills and was already long gone inside the depths of Jebel Musa. They followed the path, reassured by how much they had reduced Kruger’s forces but still aware they would be dangerous.
The tunnel took a sharp dive down and they held on to the roughly hewn sides to stop themselves sliding, but then they reached their destination.
The Temple of Hercules.
It was smaller than any of them had expected, and they could easily see Dirk Kruger, Van Zyl, Luk, Kamchatka and Korać at the far end. It looked like the Serbian warlord had replenished his force of goons as well.
“Take a look here,” Ryan said, indicating the sides of the tunnel. Either side of them they saw thick stone walls that had retracted back into the sides of the rock and on the floor at their feet they saw the stone column Kruger had taken from the Tomb of Tanit. “This is what he needed the stone key for – to pull back these massive stone walls.”
They moved closer to the temple and saw the walls in here were roughly carved out of the mountain’s granite, but the floor had been worn smooth over countless centuries of use. Piles of treasure were stacked here and there. Looking closer, Hawke saw that the walls were lined with alcoves each one blocked with a door, and whatever Kruger wanted with them he’d done it, because now he was preparing move out and he had a large smile on his face.
“All right” Kruger barked. “Prepare to move everyone out!”
Across the room Luk and Kamchatka were hauling a trunk out of one of the alcoves and moving it toward the entrance. The South African’s eyes glazed with rage when he saw them.
“What are you fools doing?” As he asked, Van Zyl swung his gun over his shoulder and moved out of sight.
“What do you think they’re doing?” Korać said, his voice dripping with contempt. “They want to get paid for their trouble. We all do… and maybe there is no Atlantis!”
Kruger was staggered. “No Atlantis? Don’t you see it? This temple is where people would stop and pray before travelling across the sea to Atlantis. These symbols are coordinates to Atlantis, you fool! This place proves there was an Atlantis. What do you think I’ve been doing for the last ten minutes?”
Khatibi and Ryan shared a glance.
“Now!’ Kruger said sharply. “Get the bomb rigged and then destroy this whole place!”
“What about the bags of treasure?” Korać said.
“Yes what about that?” said Luk. “Like we said, we still want to get paid for our trouble.”
Kruger got up in his face and grabbed him by the collar. “Don’t give me any of that crap, domkop! I’m not frightened of you and your little knife. You’ll get paid when the job is done.”
Kruger released him and pushed him back against the rocky wall and then turned to the others. “Forget the fucking treasure. It’s nothing compared with what we’ll find at Atlantis.”
As he spoke, Korać placed a bomb the size of a football inside the furthest alcove and activated it. “We have ten minutes to get well away from here and then it’s all nothing but dust.”
“Shit,” Camacho said. “That looks nasty.”
“What do you mean?” Lea asked.
“Not liking the look of that bomb at all,” he repeated. “Looks like it might have a motion sensor on it.”
“And you look like dead men walking.”
They turned to see Van Zyl bearing down on them with a submachine gun. Without alerting Kruger or Korać to their presence, he moved his finger off the guard and swung the gun into Hawke’s face.
“Get up, you pigs.”
Hawke and the others slowly got to their feet and raised their hands in the air.
“Look what I found!” Van Zyl called out.
Kruger looked over and sneered at them. “Got you bastards at last… wait – is that you, Maati?”
Khatibi looked at his boots for a moment before raising his head. “Yes, Dirk.”
“What are you doing with these people?”
“Richard and I are trying to stop you from desecrating this temple!”
“Richard – you don’t mean Richard Eden?”
Khatibi nodded and Lea stepped forward. “We work for Richard Eden, and he’s told us all about you. We’re not going to let you destroy this place and we’re certainly not going to let you plunder Atlantis.”
Kruger laughed. “I’ve heard everything now. You bastards work for Dickie Eden! Jesus Christ.” He turned back to the alcoves and then spoke over his shoulder. “Willem – take Mr Khatibi out to the trucks and make sure he’s secured. Mr Korać – keep the rest of these bastards under guard while I finish up.”
Van Zyl removed Khatibi while Korać approached Hawke.
But he got too close, and the Englishman reacted in an explosion of defensive moves, throwing a handful of grit into Korać’s face and grabbing the muzzle of the weapon simultaneously. The gun went off, firing the rounds into the floor of the t
emple and spitting up clouds of dust and rock chips.
Lea screamed and Ryan brought his hands up to cover his ears as Van Zyl slipped away and took cover.
Kruger spun around and his eyes darted over to the fracas at the entrance to the temple. He pointed at them haughtily. “Kill them!”
Then a fire fight exploded all around them with both sides taking cover as they fired on each other for control of the temple.
“I need another clip!” Ryan shouted.
“Here,” Camacho said and threw one over. “And it’s a magazine, son. No one’s used clips for about seventy years.”
With limited rounds the gunfight was over in minutes, and that meant only one thing. A number of Korać’s men rushed them and things broke down into a hand-to-hand combat situation. Judging by the tattoo on his shoulder which read СПЕЦНАЗ, Hawke’s opponent was a former Spetsnaz soldier. Russian Special Forces were trained well and fiercely aggressive, but Hawke was former SBS and that meant he had the edge and he knew it.
The man kicked things off by pulling a ballistic knife from his belt and lunging forward at Hawke’s face. The Englishman pulled his head back and simultaneously brought up his left arm to block the knife from coming any further. He disarmed the man with one hand and thrust a punch upwards into his jaw. The man fell backwards and struck his head on the wall.
All across the cavern the fighting was intense. Maria Kurikova blocked her opponent’s onslaught and immediately brought up a counter-strike into the base of his jaw. The man moved back to dodge her attack, so her punch landed in his windpipe. His eyes widened in shock as he realized he couldn’t breath and it gave the Russian spy the only chance she needed. She brought her right boot up hard and fast into his balls and his instinct sent him doubling over, just as she knew it would. She brought her left knee up into his face and knocked him out cold.
Scarlet was fighting hard closer to the entrance, bringing her knee-length boot up to her opponent’s groin and showing less mercy than Vlad the Impaler. He collapsed to the floor in a howling mess, dropping his guard long enough for the former SAS woman to send him off to sleep with a speedy palm strike.
