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The Emperor Awakes

Page 37

by Alexis Konnaris


  Vasilis shook his head and a series of expletives stayed in his throat unsaid. ‘Damn, my mother will be furious.’

  Vasilis’ boiling anger sharply contrasted with Katerina’s calmness. It was she who now spoke, giving Vasilis some time to recover his composure and reenergise his brain and put it back to good use.

  ‘Thankfully the media haven’t yet connected the death and the raft of disappearances and kidnappings, but it can’t be a coincidence. Too many coincidences make a truth. It is starting to look like a pattern. Wait till the Cypriot media get wind of the New York events. They are bound to see a connection. They’ll have a field day.

  ‘Vasilis, we’ll have to make it quick. I can’t afford to be trapped inside the castle after it closes, especially tonight. On any other night I wouldn’t mind. I cannot miss dinner at my parents’ tonight, especially with the news about Giorgos. Let’s have a quick look at the spot shown on the plan and get out of here.’

  Vasilis nodded his assent. ‘OK. I understand. We can come back tomorrow. But we cannot postpone it for longer than that. Time is just too critical here and we need to stay ahead of the Ruinands and anyone else, a gravedigger or whatever, that may be after this tomb. You remember that huge publicity blitz only a few weeks ago after the charity auction?

  ‘It died down, because it just seemed to people too extraordinary to be true. But not everybody felt the same. Some people are still looking; archaeologists, journalists, quick rich opportunists are scouring the width and breadth of this world for information, for clues.’

  * * *

  Across town Elli had seen the news too. She suspected that it was a matter of time before they publicised Aristo’s disappearance as well. She knew it was the Ruinands and the Madame Marcquesa behind this.

  They wanted to show her what they could do, how many places they had infiltrated and had access to and possibly control of. She also then remembered the not so small matter of the traitor in her family and organisation. She had to find his identity. She had to flash him out soon.

  CHAPTER 50

  Limassol, Cyprus

  Present day

  Elli received the call she had been dreading. A scrambled signal did not allow her to trace the call. A disguised voice told her that there was a message for her. They had her son, Aristo. They wanted something in exchange to be revealed later.

  She would be picked up from the Hotel Grande Beyon in Athens at five o’clock in the afternoon the next day. She should come alone. Then the caller hung up. It was just before midnight.

  Elli called her pilot and arranged for one of her private jets to be on the tarmac at Larnaca International Airport with the engines revving ready for take off. Then she arranged for the Hotel Grande Beyon to have her usual suite ready; she would be arriving there in the early hours of the morning.

  She was told she was lucky that it was not occupied. She didn’t know whether that was the case or whether they were planning to move the occupier to another suite, because she was such a good customer, but it didn’t matter as long as she got what she wanted. Then she called her driver and apologised for waking him up.

  She went upstairs to her bedroom and took ten minutes to pack a small overnight bag. She let Mrs Manto know that something came up and she would be going to Athens on urgent business that very night. Mrs Manto was surprised, as Elli had only done that a few times in the past year, but guessed that it was part of a global tycoon’s hectic life.

  Elli was standing outside her front door within twenty minutes of the call. The car pulled up. She jumped in without waiting for her driver to open the door for her and they were off. Barring an incident, they should be at the waiting plane at Larnaca International Airport within forty-five minutes at the latest.

  * * *

  By three o’clock in the morning of the following day Elli’s plane had landed at Athens Eleftherios Venizelos International Airport and parked in a quiet corner reserved for private planes. A car drove up to the jet. Within forty minutes Elli was in her suite at the Hotel Grande Beyon wondering what to do for the next thirteen hours or so.

  * * *

  At ten to five in the afternoon she was standing in the lobby just inside the front entrance. She knew she should have sat down so as to draw the minimum attention to herself, but her impatience could not let her.

  At exactly five o’clock a man gently touched her arm. She turned and was looking into eyes of the most unusual green she had ever seen owned by a man no older than thirty and with a masculine and angular but at the same time angelic face.

  She was taken aback. She smirked to herself. She was looking at the civilised, mesmerising and admirably acceptable public face of one of the most ruthless organisations in the history of the world.

  ‘Mrs Symitzis, would you follow me please?’

  She followed him to the waiting car outside. The man opened the door for her and joined her in the back seat. The driver had the car running and drove off immediately the back door closed with a gentle thud. They rushed through the city with police escort and sirens to get through the car-clogged streets quickly.

  Once they were out of the city centre and into the Northern suburbs the police escort fell away. They left the city behind them and were driving on the Ethniki Odos or National Route, the motorway connecting Athens with Thessaloniki in the North of the country in the province of Macedonia.

  It was soon after they got onto the motorway that the man sitting next to Elli leaned towards her holding a scarf in his hand.

  ‘We cannot allow you to see where we are going so I will need to put a blindfold on you. Please don’t show any resistance.’

  Elli was no fool. She knew there was no other way. If she refused, they would turn back or just drop her there and then in the middle of nowhere. So she nodded.

  Of course she believed she knew where they were going. It must have been the Ruinands’ underwater city, Le Mirabel, in Marathon Bay, North of Athens. Vasilis had told her about that. She knew what to expect.

  CHAPTER 51

  Limassol, Cyprus

  Present day

  In the meantime, in Limassol, Andros was speaking on the phone with his cousin, Andrew Le Charos. Andros could hear the urgency in Andrew’s voice coming down the line all the way from Sydney.

  ‘Andros, you have to open the package I sent you and give what’s inside to Elli. There is not much time. Forget that I said in my letter that it should be opened if you haven’t heard from me for a week or if I’m dead. Before you unwrap it, throw it…’

  The line went dead.

  Andros shouted at the mouthpiece, but he knew as he did so that there would be no reply forthcoming from the other end. He knew something terrible had happened to Andrew. What he didn’t know was that the conversation had been overheard.

  * * *

  At the other end of the world in Sydney, Andrew Le Charos was working late in his office in the Fanari Tower. A group of four Ruinands disabled his security guards and the security systems at the building and within five minutes they were standing outside Andrew’s office.

  Two of them stayed there while the rest went to the next floor up, Andrew’s penthouse suite. They entered the penthouse. There was no danger of tripping any security systems as they had inside knowledge of the entire security system of the building and the penthouse’s security system, which was handled separately off-site, had already been rendered inoperable. They only had a brief sojourn dealing with Andrew in his office after having surprised him.

  Within minutes they were exiting the Fanari Tower with Andrew in their care. Their ultimate destination was Le Mirabel, the underwater city and nerve-centre of the Ruinands.

  That was where Andrew would be brainwashed to serve the Ruinand cause and punch further holes into the Order of Vlachernae and Elli’s organisation. The Madame Marcquesa had changed her mind about Andrew and realised that he could have his uses, but only under her full control.

  * * *

  Andros got up and
almost ran to his study. He opened the safe and took out the package that Andrew Le Charos had sent to him. He weighed it in his hand. It felt unusually heavy. He thought back to his conversation with Andrew. He remembered the last thing Andrew told him. He had said to “open it and throw it”. That was a strange thing to say.

  But there was no other way of interpreting Andrew’s words. He wondered whether Andrew meant it literally. There was only one way to find out. Andros toyed with the package for a while and tossed it from hand to hand. There was no harm in following Andrew’s instructions, as he could see no alternative. Doubting the sanity of what he was about to do, he threw the package in the air.

  On its descent to the floor the package narrowly missed his palm. Just before the package touched the floor it opened up like a flower with multi-coloured sparks flying everywhere and bouncing off the walls.

  Andros shielded his eyes and tried to protect his body from the onslaught. But when the firework display stopped and he checked his body for signs of injury, he found nothing and was perplexed. A few seconds passed and suddenly out of the centre of the flower rose an exquisite icon unlike any he had ever seen. He was hypnotised by its beauty.

  He wanted to touch it, but he hesitated for fear of triggering some unintended consequence, worse even than the spectacle he had just witnessed. He feared an explosion which considering what he had just witnessed would not be such a crazy notion.

  There was a noise in the entrance hall and Andros called out the names of his wife and his daughter, but there was no reply. He remembered Katerina’s warning and at that moment he knew there was an intruder in the house.

  He was tempted to freeze on the spot from fear and shock, but he steeled himself and thought quickly, looking for a weapon. He was too far away from his desk and could not reach the licensed revolver he had inside one of the draws.

  He saw the letter opener. He grabbed it and held it to his side, partly hidden by his shirt and his slightly bulging stomach. He then remembered the icon on the floor next to him. He quickly picked it up and hid it behind some books on the bookshelf closest to him, forgetting his earlier reluctance to touch it.

  Just as he was quickly bringing his hand back to his side, a smiling face appeared at the door of the study, a face he knew very well. He breathed a sigh of relief, he let his shoulders visibly relax and his suspicions instantly fled from his mind.

  He made a few tentative steps ready to hug that person, when he stopped as the smile vanished and his shock at the sudden change was amplified when he stood nailed to the spot looking at the barrel of a gun that appeared out of nowhere.

  The intruder had just caught Andros’ movement at the bookcase when he entered the room. Unobstructed he went to the bookcase and he searched with his hand. He found what he sought and his fingers closed around it in a gentle gesture redolent with self-satisfaction.

  A smile of mirth coloured his face. Mission accomplished. This person and his grief-stricken brood would not bother us again. From now on he would be my master’s houseguest, a silent embalmed decorative presence, a worthy addition to the glory that was Le Mirabel.

  Andros knew his fate was sealed. He was thankful that his wife was not in the house with him. But then his last thought was that that was not a guarantee that she would be safe.

  At the moment that the bullet travelled and just before it lodged in Andros’ chest on a straight course to his heart, determined to pierce it and shred it to pieces, and before Andros collapsed to the floor unconscious, Andros saw his wife standing behind the traitor, Elli’s traitor, and was, discreetly but desperately, signalling to her, hoping not to alert the traitor.

  Her shock at the unfolding turn of events did not give her enough time to pick up on the danger signals, recover from her initial shock and flee.

  CHAPTER 52

  Limassol, Cyprus

  Present day

  The next morning, Katerina was having a quick coffee for breakfast and some toast. Vasilis had spent the night there for extra security. She had a lovely time with her parents the previous evening.

  Her mother’s food was as delicious and finger-licking as ever and conversation flowed easily, which was surprising considering the cloud weighing heavily on everybody’s mind, the cloud that had Giorgos’ name splashed across it. She knew her parents put on a brave face for her sake, even though they were eaten with worry about her brother’s fate.

  Katerina was accompanied in her breakfast by the television in the background, set on low volume. Katerina’s eye fell on the screen as it was showing the latest news. Suddenly the toast stopped on approach to Katerina’s mouth for another much-desired bite and floated mid-air. She leaned forward to pick up the remote control and raise the volume on the television.

  “We have unconfirmed reports that businessman Andros Markantaskis and his wife Anna have disappeared. Police sources believe them to have been kidnapped during the night.”

  Katerina spat out her last bite and ran to find Vasilis who was having a shower and listening to the news on the radio. He immediately rinsed himself in seconds and jumped out grabbing a towel and running out of the bathroom towards the kitchen dripping water all the way.

  He almost collided with Katerina as he was reaching the entrance hall, a wet slippery trail running away from him like fuel that was in danger of being ignited. They both started speaking at once. Then Vasilis stopped and let Katerina go ahead.

  ‘Vasilis, it’s my parents. Just now on the news. They are missing.’

  ‘I know. I just heard it on the radio. It looks to me suspiciously similar to the other disappearances, or kidnappings I suppose we should call them now.’

  Katerina was visibly distraught, but her usual practical self took over.

  ‘How could the media have found out so quickly? I believe that our original theory is correct. There’s no doubt now that the media are being deliberately fed this information. Do you realise that you, Elli, Iraklios, my grandmother and I are the only ones left? We need to go to my parents’ house before the police and the media get there, and see if we can find any clues as to what happened.

  ‘It is likely that the media, and perhaps the police as well, have had a head start on us, so they may be there already. And many of those who had not been forewarned, but who just heard the news will be congregating there to get their healthy dose of excitement and gossip. We need to hurry.’

  Vasilis was speaking as he turned and headed towards the guest bedroom. ‘I’m coming with you. Give me five minutes to get dressed.’

  ‘I need five minutes myself.’ Katerina rushed to her bedroom.

  Within exactly five minutes they were getting into the car on the ten-minute short drive to her parents’ house. When they parked outside eight minutes later and got out of the car they could see nothing suspicious from the outside.

  Katerina took out the keys and unlocked the front door. She wondered about her parents’ hired help and whether any of them were there. She and Vasilis stood in the entrance hall, but heard only silence. Katerina moved to the living room, which was the room nearest to her.

  She saw no sign of a struggle or a search. Everything seemed to be in its place. Then she went into her father’s study. At first glance it all seemed normal, until she noticed the letter opener on the floor and she saw her mother’s bag on the side table. Then she saw the door to her father’s safe hanging open.

  With Vasilis they had a quick look round the study. She was about to move away from her father’s desk when she felt as if there was something there she saw but didn’t quite properly register and should go back for another look.

  She looked at her father’s desk again and then she saw it. It was easy to miss. It was a scribble on a small notepad with detachable sheets near the corner of the desk close to the bookcase. It was in her father’s hand-writing.

  There was the date of the previous day and the time 11.24 p.m. Underneath there was only one word: “Iraklios”. Vasilis had joined her and they l
ooked at each other not knowing what to make of it at first. And then it hit them both at the same time and they said it almost in unison. ‘The traitor.’

  They checked the rest of the house, but found nothing out of place or any other obvious clues. Vasilis was struggling to remember something that had been bothering him. Then it came to him. “Better safe than sorry”, he thought. He saw Katerina about to say something and he shushed her with his finger and indicated the front door. When they were outside he told her they could now speak.

  ‘I want to have the house checked for bugs. I’ll call my mother’s team.’

  ‘Vasilis, I don’t think there is any hope of finding out where my parents are, so I think we need to get to the castle. We should avoid Iraklios at all costs and try to warn the others when we see them. I was about to say we can do as much as we can without the others, but we can’t, can we?’

  Vasilis nodded in agreement. ‘No, we can’t. There wouldn’t be any point to even attempt it. Remember the scroll. We will need the three icons. We will need to establish which ones are the two original Likureian icons. We will need the Emperor’s ring, a phial of Iakovos’ blood and Eleni’s dismembered body from Cappadocia. We will also need to figure out that structure and the traps.

  ‘We’ll need your brother and the others for that. I think I have an idea where they may be and I know how to get there. You are coming with me, because I think you will be of great help. Unless you object, I can also use you as bait to create a distraction.’ Vasilis paused, waiting for Katerina’s consent. She nodded her acceptance.

 

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