Atlantis Lost

by J. Robert Kennedy

  The old man stared at her, then shook his head, grabbing another carafe of wine. “I’m getting drunk.” He paused, frowning as he stared at her. “Don’t let your fear control you. There’s still a chance to save yourself.”

  She shook her head as she realized what she had to do. “No, Professor, I can save us all.”

  40

  Zek Gerald Residence

  Outside Beja, Portugal

  Present Day

  “Stay in the car.”

  Reading frowned at Chief Ventura, but nodded. This wasn’t his jurisdiction, and his son was with him, and still technically a civilian. But staying here also meant he couldn’t at least try to influence what was about to happen. The dozen men that now surrounded the house of one Zek Gerald, were clearly locals, and clearly had no idea what they were doing when it came to a hostage situation like this. As far as Reading’s read of their intent went, they were planning on assaulting the house without any preamble.

  He cursed as his suspicions were confirmed and the front door was kicked in without warning, half a dozen armed men entering the premises, shouting. A shot rang out, then half a dozen more. Reading turned to Spencer.

  “Stay put.”

  He threw the door open and sprinted toward the entrance.

  And his friends.

  Acton’s eyes bulged at the sound of someone breaking into the house, the pounding of multiple sets of heavy footwear suggesting at least several attackers. He couldn’t understand a word they were saying, but something sounded like the word ‘police’ to him.

  Zek and Tark rushed to the door, Tark with a weapon.

  This is going to get ugly fast.

  He tipped himself to the side, balancing all his weight on two of the chair legs. It took only a moment for them to snap, and he collapsed to the floor, the cheap wood splintering. He pulled with all his might, snapping his arms free, and stood, his wrists bleeding. He lifted Laura in her chair, carrying her behind the kitchen island before tipping her onto her side so her head wasn’t in plain view as more shots erupted.

  “Tark!”

  The horror in Zek’s voice suggested his brother had just been shot or worse, and Acton caught a glimpse of Spud sprinting past, toward the back of the house. Acton reached up and grabbed a steak knife from a knife block on the counter, and cut the ties binding Laura. She flipped over onto her hands and knees, crouching behind the island as footfalls stormed into the kitchen. Acton raised his hands, keeping the rest of his body out of sight.

  “We’re the hostages! Don’t shoot!”

  Laura’s hands shot up beside him as men from either side of the island appeared, guns pointed at him then Laura, shouting uselessly in Portuguese.

  “Bloody hell! They’re the ones you’re here to save!”

  Acton breathed an audible sigh of relief at Reading’s voice. Somebody snapped some orders and the guns were raised, their ordeal over.

  Shots cracked the air in the rear of the house, making a liar out of him.

  Spud pressed the phone against his ear, praying that Thatcher would pick up.

  “Who is this?”

  He recognized Tarrell Fleming’s voice. He wasn’t Thatcher, but he’d have to do, the footfalls getting closer. “It’s me, Spud. We’re under attack. The hostages are about to be rescued, and I think I’m going to die. Tell Thatcher that the prisoners know what we’re doing. They know about the—”

  Shots splintered the bathroom door, the lock shattering, and suddenly the door was kicked open, the top hinge failing. Spud thrust his hands into the air. “I surrender!”

  Two weapons discharged, each firing a shot, then two then three. He shook from the blasts, the searing pain of each shot rapidly fading as the next overwhelmed him. His arms slumped to the floor, the still connected phone sliding onto the cheap linoleum.

  And he asked God one last question.

  Why? We were only trying to help save the world.

  Acton sat on the rear bumper of the ambulance as his wrists were tended to. Laura stood nearby, hers red but the skin uncut, tears in her eyes as three bodies were pushed past them on gurneys. She shook her head at Reading, who acknowledged her, but signaled her with a look to say nothing as he spoke to the man apparently in charge of the fiasco. A handshake was exchanged, and Reading finally joined them.

  “Will he be okay?”

  The paramedic nodded. “Just have them looked at when you get back home. The dressings will need to be changed, and your doctor should monitor for infection.”

  Acton examined the tidy wrapping job. “Thanks. Good work.” He stood and Laura gave him a hug. He returned it, then looked at Reading. “Can we go?”

  “Yes, but they’re going to want to interview you in the next day or so. They’re asking for you to stay in Portugal until you do.”

  Acton lowered his voice. “So then going back to the Azores is permitted?”

  Reading’s eyes widened. “I suppose so. Why? You’re not going back to those ruins, are you?”

  “Of course I am, but curiosity isn’t the reason.”

  Reading’s eyes narrowed. “Explain.”

  “Don’t you know why they kidnapped us?”

  Reading shook his head. “Enlighten me.”

  “I spotted them planting a bomb.”

  Reading’s eyes shot wide again. “What bomb?”

  “These guys are some sort of do-gooder terrorist group that intends to blow up all the transatlantic data cables to send some sort of political message.”

  Reading cursed. “We need to get that info to the proper authorities immediately.”

  Acton nodded. “I agree, but these guys”—he threw a thumb over his shoulder at the local police responsible for an unnecessary massacre—“aren’t them.”

  Reading pursed his lips. “Agreed. Let’s get somewhere private so we can make the necessary calls.”

  “I suggest our plane. You can make all the calls you need, and we can get back to the Azores to try and stop whatever it is they’re doing. If we don’t, Atlantis could be lost to the world once again.”

  41

  EQ Hotel & Casino

  Shanghai, China

  Kane dropped silently back onto his suite’s balcony, his job done. The hotel’s IT system had been tapped, the drives copied, and all evidence he had been upstairs removed. Now Langley just had to decrypt the data, and hopefully find the proof they needed that Zhang was behind the illegal weapons systems, and ideally, their location so they could be recovered or destroyed.

  He stepped back inside his room, sliding the balcony door shut, then quickly stripped out of his black light absorbing infiltration suit, carefully wrapping it back up and putting it in the false bottom of his toiletries bag. Back in his skivvies, he climbed into his bed. “Status on my guest?”

  “Still sound asleep on the couch,” replied the familiar voice in his ear. He settled himself. “Am I good?”

  “You’re on your wrong side.”

  Kane frowned, flipping over and readjusting. “Good?”

  “Perfect. Pull your underwear down a little.”

  He reached for the elastic band on instinct, then paused. “Wait a minute. Are you just trying to see my ass?”

  “I’d never do a thing like that.”

  Kane raised his hand, giving the finger to the cameras now overridden by his team.

  “Switching in three, two, one, switching.”

  Kane lowered his arms and closed his eyes as the countdown progressed, trying to be as relaxed as possible for his hosts when the feed was returned to their control. “Okay, you’re back on the live feed. No evidence that they’ve noticed anything.”

  Kane’s watch pulsed and he cursed to himself.

  Perfect timing.

  He gave himself a sixty count then stretched and yawned. He rolled out of bed then used the bathroom, pretending to squint at his watch, the display indicating another message from Reading. He gave an exaggerated yawn then grabbed his phone and a cigarette, headin
g again for the balcony’s blind spot. He brought up Reading’s encrypted message, his eyes shooting wide and his heart racing as he read the update.

  Then immediately forwarded it to Leroux with an Urgent tag.

  42

  Operations Center 3, CIA Headquarters

  Langley, Virginia

  Leroux’s terminal beeped with an urgent communication, and he returned to his desk, tapping at the keyboard, his eyes widening as he read Kane’s message, then the details forwarded by Agent Reading. He rose. “Okay, people, new intel. Our two professors were just rescued by Portuguese authorities, and they are now safe.”

  A round of applause erupted, and shivers rushed over his body as he realized his team was just as committed to saving these people as he was, and just as relieved that being forced off the case hadn’t resulted in innocent lives lost.

  He held up his hand. “We’ll have cake and drinks later to celebrate.” Laughter. “Here’s the critical tidbit. According to Agent Reading, the people who kidnapped our professors, are the same people we’ve been looking for. Apparently, they are the ones who set the charges on the data cables, and the professors stumbled upon them in the Azores.” He turned to Child. “Please tell me you’re still monitoring any communications from that ship.”

  Child tapped at his keyboard. “Yup. I figured you said we had to stop working on it, not the equipment.”

  Leroux smiled. “I knew there was a reason I wanted you on my team.”

  Child grinned. “I thought it was my rugged good looks.”

  Leroux gave him the eye. “You’re not my type. What have you got?”

  “I have a shore-to-ship call just a few minutes ago, originating in mainland Portugal.”

  Leroux nodded. “Probably our kidnappers phoning home. Anything else?”

  Child shook his head then held up a finger. “Wait, someone’s making a call right now. Why aren’t they using satellite phones?”

  “Maybe they’re Luddites.”

  “Well, Luddites or not, that call is using some serious over-the-air encryption.”

  “Can you trace it?”

  “Give me a second. The number they’re calling isn’t encrypted.” Child furiously typed away, then suddenly shoved away from his keyboard, arms in the air, a smile on his face. “I can’t track it the entire way, but guess where the number they’re calling was routed through.”

  Leroux smiled. “The same Russian civilian satellite our blackmailer used?”

  Child smiled. “It’s like you don’t even need me.”

  Leroux chuckled. “Well, if I’m asked to make cuts, I’ll know where to start.” The room erupted with laughter at Child’s expense. He spun in his chair, hand held high, flipping them the bird. “Okay, so we’ve got two communications, both from the same organization, both using the same Russian civilian satellite, a satellite we’ve confirmed is often used by the Russian government, including military, when necessary. I think this confirms that the use of this satellite isn’t a fluke.” He turned to Tong. “Did you ever get a response back on the tail numbers for the two planes?”

  She checked her terminal. “Yes, it just came in. Confirmed Russian Air Force, based out of Chkalovsky Airbase just outside Moscow.”

  Child laughed. “Well, you’re never going to guess where our signal was routed to.”

  Leroux turned back toward Child. “Chkalovsky?”

  “Yup. I can’t track it past there, but that ship-to-shore call that they’re making right now, is being carried over an encrypted carrier wave to mainland Portugal, then bounced up to a specific Russian civilian satellite, which then routed it to its end destination at Chkalovsky. From there it’s probably being routed directly to those planes using Russian Air Force equipment.”

  Leroux turned to stare at the footage still being fed them from the aircraft monitoring the strangely behaving Russian. “I think you’re absolutely right. And that means the Russians are involved.”

  43

  East of the Azores, Atlantic Ocean

  Thatcher stared at the radio, unsure of what to make of the conversation he had just had. There was still a technical problem with the satellite, which he found odd, but in discussing it with the others, they had all agreed it was possible, though none could believe it would be down for as long as it was.

  Yet when challenged, their benefactor had erupted with rage, insulting him and his family, and pretty much anyone he had ever known, before it devolved further into what he assumed was Russian. “Wait a minute. How did you call me?”

  “I couldn’t get through on the satellite system.”

  “I know, I’m blocking you. So how did you call me?”

  “I used the ship-to-shore system. It’s encrypted.”

  “But what number?”

  “I called your cellphone. I figured you’d have it routed to wherever you are.”

  More curses erupted then the signal went dead, with no instructions as to what to do.

  If the man was lying, there was nothing he could do about it. Kozhin had control of all the detonators. He didn’t even have access to the ones his team had set. If he did want to set one of the charges off, he’d have to dive back down to where they laid the charge, and manually detonate it, killing himself.

  Yet if Kozhin were telling the truth, then all he had to be was patient. Eventually, the satellite would be out of maintenance mode, and the detonation signals would be sent, along with the message he and the others had crafted for months. He sighed as he leaned back in his chair.

  Please God, let him not be lying.

  But what reason could the man have for lying? The charges were laid, that he knew. Blowing the cables was the only thing that those charges could be used for. There was only one reason to do that, and that was to send a message to the masses.

  The blood drained from his face and he felt woozy as another possibility occurred to him.

  Blackmail!

  The detonation of the charges would cause billions in damage and disruption. Would governments pay to prevent it? Would corporations?

  How well do you know this man?

  He didn’t really know him at all. He had been enamored with the money and the possibilities it brought, and he had never questioned where the money was coming from. The man was Russian, which should have raised some flags, but he was of the opinion that people should be judged individually, rather than collectively.

  You’re too trusting.

  It was something his mother had always told him, and perhaps she was right. It meant people taking advantage of him all his life, despite the fact he considered himself intelligent. He always wanted to think the best of people, but far too often, humanity was revealed to be the cesspool it was.

  Could Kozhin be using his plan for profit?

  He suddenly felt sick to his stomach.

  What do I tell the others?

  He doubled over, battling the desire to vomit.

  Nothing!

  He couldn’t tell them. Everyone’s spirits were still high despite the delay, and regardless of whether he was right or wrong, there was nothing they could do about it.

  You’ll just have to wait and hope.

  He rushed from the radio room and bent over the railing, the battle lost.

  44

  Departing Beja, Portugal

  Acton breathed a sigh of relief the moment the wheels of the Gulf V left the runway, then the frustrations he had kept bottled up erupted. “What the hell was that?”

  Reading, sitting across from them with his son, shook his head, frowning. “That was the most inept rescue I’ve ever been part of.”

  Acton regarded the young Spencer and frowned, the boy appearing pale and withdrawn. “Are you okay?”

  Spencer seemed surprised at being spoken to. “Umm, yeah, I guess.”

  Reading turned in his seat to face his son a little better. “That was not the way things are supposed to go down in those situations. You’ll be trained on how to deal with these things,
and I’m sorry to say, you’ll eventually get used to seeing bodies, though it’ll be rare that you see them like that. That was a disgusting example of amateurs trying to be heroes. There was no reason to not negotiate for the hostages. Nobody had to die there.” He sighed, lowering his voice. “I’m sorry you saw that. I shouldn’t have brought you.”

  Spencer’s eyes widened and he stared at his father, shaking his head. “It’s not your fault, and I’m glad you did.” He paused, as if searching for words. “Look, I’ve known I’ve wanted to be a copper for a while, now. This just makes me want to be one even more. I want to learn how to do things right, so that if I’m ever in a situation like today, I’ll know the proper thing to do. If you were running that operation, none of that would have happened, and everyone would be alive. I want to learn to do it like you.”

  Acton watched as Reading struggled to maintain control. His friend was bursting with pride that his humility was struggling to suppress, all while he took in what was probably the nicest thing his son had ever said to him since the end of their estrangement. Acton reached over and squeezed Laura’s hand.

  Three times.

  I. Love. You.

  She returned the gesture with a smile as they both enjoyed the moment. Acton decided to save his friend from embarrassing himself. He held up his wrists.

  “We must have a first aid kit on board.”

  Laura nodded. “I’m sure we do, but those bandages are fresh. We should just leave them.”

  He agreed. “Let’s just keep it in mind for when we’re done with all this.”

  “Do they hurt?”

  “Are you the most beautiful woman in the world?”

  She gave him the eye. “So that’s a no.”