“Weak, Riley. You don’t even have a real knife with you?” He threw the tool out the tomb opening.
She looked out and saw the white rope dangling just to the right of the entrance.
“Look at this box,” he said, nudging it with his toe. “Fascinating.”
“There are three keyholes.”
“Shall we break it open and see what’s inside?”
“No!” she said.
Half his face grinned at her.
“Your archeologist boyfriend wouldn’t like that, eh?”
“Fiancé,” she said, and she went back to concentrating on her breathing.
“Oh, Riley. I’m disappointed in you. You’ve never been boring. And now look at what you’ve done. Marriage? That’s not your style.” He walked over to her and pulled her up by her hair. “I’m not happy when I’m bored.”
Riley thought about free diving. When she wanted to stay underwater a very long time, she hyperventilated first. By over-oxygenating her brain, she’d learned to hold her breath for just over two minutes. Short breaths.
“That’s funny,” she said, breathing in and out as though she were frightened. “Because when we were lovers, I was the bored one.”
He yanked her head back and stared at her throat. “You lying bitch.”
“I called you a freak once. Now you actually look like the monster you are.”
He wrapped both hands around her neck and squeezed her windpipe under her chin. Not too hard, though. He was playing with her like a cat torturing its prey. He didn’t want to cut off the blood flow to her brain just yet.
She fought him hard enough to be convincing, then slowly she let her body go slack. Just when she felt him beginning to ease, she threw her arms up high inside his and slammed down on the insides of his elbows. His released his grip on her throat, and before he could react, she smashed her good shoulder into him and drove him back through the opening.
His feet hit the opening’s rock edge, and he nearly stumbled, then his other foot hit the box, sending it skidding over the edge and knocking him off balance. Her momentum had carried her after him. When his arms flailed at her, one hand hooked onto a leg strap of her climbing harness, yanking her toward the edge with him. Riley wrenched back and seized the dangling rope with both hands, and then they both went over the edge.
The nylon rope had some stretch and give in it. They bounced, then swayed, but her grip held. Dig’s weight along with her own was almost too much for her. He was trying to grab hold of something with his free hand, but whenever he reached he swung around wildly.
Riley looked down. It was his good hand on the leg cuff. She swung her free leg and kicked him in his injured shoulder as hard as she could.
He screamed and jerked, and the rope started to slide through her fists. She wrapped her free leg around the rope and that stopped the descent.
Dig’s weight on the harness had dragged the waistband low on her hips, and the thigh cuff was below her knee.
Ever since her injury, her left arm had been growing stronger to take up the slack for her weak side. Now she would test that strength. She let go of the rope with her right hand and pulled the drill bit from her chalk bag, then tried to stab his hand. There was no way she could reach.
Her left hand started slipping, and she grabbed the rope with both hands again, dropping the drill bit in the process. She felt the bitter end of the rope at her ankle. She couldn’t slide much lower.
She ordered herself to think. Diggory’s chuffing breaths grew calmer. He was trying to get his pain under control, preparing for his next assault. She had no time.
The buckle on the front of her harness was designed not to release under pressure. But the adjustable strap that held the buckle in place was not. She let go once more and quickly lifted the plastic tab at the back of the buckle. The webbing slipped through it and the pressure on her pelvis eased.
She grabbed the rope again quickly as she felt the belt slip off her hips. She untangled her leg from the rope and hung freely from it. When the waist belt slipped past her buttocks, the leg cuffs slid off her legs, taking her shoes—and Dig—with them. Dig didn’t make a sound until his body hit the rocky shore.
Riley felt so light without his weight, she had no trouble lifting her legs up, grabbing the rope with her feet and legs, and starting to shimmy up to the tomb. It wasn’t until she was able to swing her feet onto the ledge that she pried her hands off the rope. She leaned her back against the stone and closed her eyes.
“Riley.” She heard a voice from below.
She crawled back to the edge and peered over. At first, all she saw was the sprawled body at the base of the cliff, a growing pool of red spreading out in the water. No way he survived that.
“Riley, here.” She shifted her focus slightly to the left, and two-thirds of the way down the slope she saw Cole’s white face looking up through the branches of a tree. He was on the narrow ledge, his arms wrapped around the tree’s trunk. The wooden box was lodged in the branches of the tree.
“I was climbing up to save you,” he said.
“I’m impressed you made it that far.”
“Me, too. But I think I might need some help getting down.”
A Restaurant in Republic Square
Valletta, Malta
May 11, 2014
The four of them had just been seated at an outdoor table when the champagne arrived.
Cole looked at the two empty seats and said, “Should we wait until they get here?”
Hazel lifted the bottle out of the ice bucket and said, “There’s plenty more where this came from, and I have a few toasts to make.” She filled their glasses.
Riley stood up with hers. “I want to go first. I know this week is supposed to be about us, but I want to make a toast to Hazel and Theo. I know it’s early days, but Cole and I could not be happier for the two people we love most in the world.”
Cole lifted his glass. “Cheers to that.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Theo said.
Riley laughed. “Come on. It’s not like we didn’t know. The two of you have been walking around grinning like a couple of goony birds ever since we sailed in on Bonefish a few days ago.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Hazel said, and they all clinked glasses.
“I see you’ve started early,” a familiar voice said.
Riley pushed back her chair. “Mom, welcome, and happy Mother’s Day.” She walked around the table with her arms spread wide.
Riley had not seen her mother since her last trip to France back in 2009, but Celeste Laurent Riley Villeneuve had changed very little. She was dressed in an elegant suit that no doubt bore a designer’s name as upper-crust as her new husband’s name.
They embraced and exchanged kisses on both cheeks.
Riley turned to her mother’s husband. “Bertrand. It’s good to see you again.”
Cole embraced them, too, and Hazel followed, saying, “It’s been a long time.”
“I remember when you and Riley were just girls,” Celeste said. “You always had such style, while this one”—she looked at Riley—“never had the eye for it.”
When they were all seated at the table, Celeste leaned forward and said, “We saw your photographs on the television at our hotel.”
Cole shrugged. “Yeah, well, it’s not as bad as it looks.”
Riley said, “They haven’t pressed any formal charges yet.”
“On the television news they mentioned smuggling and two men dead,” Bertrand said.
Her mother nodded. “I’m glad to hear you say it’s not as bad as it looks, because it looks very bad.”
Riley sighed. That was classic Mother. Always worried, above all, about how things looked.
“Mom, what they’re saying is technically true. While we were in Turkey, Cole and I did kill two men—in self-defense—and then we took off on Bonefish and sailed here to Malta, taking certain antiquities out of their country.”
“Riley, if you’re trying to make me feel better, it’s not working.”
“Don’t worry. Lucky for us, we have a good friend with the Turkish Jandarma. We called him before we even cleared Turkish waters and told him what we were doing and where to find the bodies. Then we called the director of Heritage Malta here in Valletta, and told her to alert the authorities about our arrival. But let’s not talk about that now. We’re here to celebrate, and the event that’s happening inside the palace here in”—she checked her watch—“about an hour will hopefully clear everything up. Anybody else hungry? Because I’m starved.”
From the entrance to the Grand Master’s Palace, they followed the signs that led to the Throne Room. People were filling the rows of chairs in the great golden hall while television crews set up their cameras pointing at the stage at the front of the room.
When Dr. G. spotted them, she came at a near run down the center aisle to meet them. “This is so exciting!” She took both Cole’s and Riley’s hands in hers. “Come, you and your party have reserved seats up front. We’ll be starting soon.”
Riley and the others sat in the front row while Cole followed Dr. Günay onto the raised platform. The wooden corsair’s box they had brought back from Turkey rested on the center of the long table onstage, and the shield lay next to it. Several people stepped forward to admire the objects, and they introduced themselves to Cole. After a few more minutes, the museum personnel closed the doors to the room, and Dr. G. stepped up to the microphone.
“I want to thank you all for coming to our museum here in Valletta today. I’d especially like to welcome the delegations from the Bardo National Museum in Tunisia”—she pointed to a group of people and they nodded—“and the Turkish Ministry of Culture and Tourism, led by Captain Pamuk. Representing the Vatican, we have Sister Ola Momani, and we are honored to welcome Dr. Festing, grand master of the Sovereign Military Order of Malta. And finally, Dr. Cole Thatcher of the Full Fathom Five Maritime Foundation. I’m certain you all know why we are here. Without any further speechmaking, I’d like to invite our local locksmith, Pietru, to open the box for us.”
The older Maltese man approached the table from the front, spread out a cloth with a set of lock picks, and went to work.
Dr. Günay continued while the man worked. “The box before us was discovered in a Lycian tomb on the island of Kekova in Turkey. It is a fine example of a late sixteenth-century corsair’s box used by the Knights of Malta. These strongboxes were used to safeguard the valuables and gold coins aboard their ships. This box requires three keys to open it. Since we do not have these keys, Pietru, who works for us here at Heritage Malta, assures us he can pick any lock made before the twentieth century.”
The crowd murmured softly. Within minutes, Pietru stepped back and pushed open the lid. Dr. Günay motioned to a pair of white-coated museum technicians at the side of the room. They stepped forward with an acrylic box. While the man held the box, the woman reached in with gloved hands and lifted a large, blackened manuscript out of the corsair’s box. She placed it in the wide acrylic case and opened it to a random page.
The male tech closed the top of the box and set it on the table.
Dr. Günay peered through the top of the box. “At first glance, I can tell you that the manuscript appears to made of dark-stained animal skin, and the writing, which appears to be in a gold-colored ink, is certainly in Syriac, a dialect of Aramaic. For those of you who do not know, that was the language spoken by Jesus.”
The noise in the room grew as the crowd murmured opinions on that piece of news. The historian waved the tech over and spoke to him. He reopened the box and showed her the front cover and inside first pages. She nodded, and he reclosed the box. “The pages of the manuscript appear to be loosely tied together. I cannot estimate how many pages there are.” She paused and took a deep breath. “I am not an expert in the Aramaic language, but I have been doing research in preparation for this event. I can tell you that I recognized one word on the title page. That word is Barnabas.”
Dr. Günay held up her hands for quiet as voices filled the room. “Please,” she said. “At Dr. Thatcher’s request, the manuscript is going to be made available to experts from all countries present and any interested Biblical scholars, in order to find a consensus on its age and authenticity. He hopes to have this manuscript become a part of our World Heritage Site here in Valletta. Thank you very much for joining us here today. Interested scholars, please see my museum director. The relics will remain on display here for the rest of the afternoon.”
The audience broke into applause, then the meeting broke up. Many in the crowd surged to the front of the room to peer into the acrylic box. Riley stood off to the side, watching them, and she smiled when Captain Pamuk walked up to her and shook her hand.
“Did you bring your handcuffs?” she asked.
He returned her smile. “My superiors wish it were so.”
Cole joined Riley and shook the captain’s hand. “Sorry to make things difficult for you, Captain, but we thought this was the best solution. We didn’t want to see this manuscript disappear again.”
“I understand,” he said. “But you will meet with me tomorrow so that I can take your statements? I have an investigation to conclude, and you are my witnesses.”
“No problem,” Cole said.
While Cole made arrangements to meet the captain the next day, Riley walked up to the front table, where people were now lined up to get a look at the manuscript. Riley moved to the opposite end of the table, to the open corsair’s box, and examined the inside. She felt a hand on her shoulder.
“It is a magnificent box,” her mother said.
Riley stepped aside to let her mother take a closer look.
Dr. G. joined them. “We have another corsair’s box in our Maritime Museum in Vittoriosa,” she said, “but this one is in much better condition. It will make a wonderful addition to our collection here at Heritage Malta.”
Celeste pointed at a metal band inside the box. “Look, there are engravings on the inside.”
Riley looked over her mother’s shoulder. “Really?”
Dr. G. stepped in and leaned over the box. “Where?”
Celeste pointed to the letters.
Cole arrived with a penlight, and he illuminated the inside of the box.
Dr. Günay said, “It’s two names. Alonso Montras and Arzella Brun, followed by the year 1798. She must have engraved it. The Silver Girl.”
Riley placed her other hand on Cole’s shoulder. “Hey, wasn’t her son named Lukka Demontras?”
“That’s funny,” Celeste said.
“Why?”
“That was my mother’s maiden name, and she always said she had family in Malta.”
While Dr. Günay and Riley’s mother put their heads together on a plan for creating the Demontras family tree, Cole pulled Riley out of the Throne Room and down the hall to a quiet bench on a balcony overlooking the palace courtyard.
“I’m ready to be done with these crowds,” he said.
“Me, too. But we’ve still got to make it through the wedding.”
“I know. I’m looking forward to the ceremony itself. I’ve always dreamed I’d get married on the deck of a sailing ship.”
“Figures,” she said. “You’re the romantic in the family.”
“Even I never dreamed it would be in Grand Harbour in Malta. But afterward, I have plans to whisk you away on a honeymoon.”
“Really? And when are you going to share these plans with me?”
“I was thinking now was a good time.”
“No time like the present.”
“I want to get away from the crowds, somewhere we can be all alone and also do some great diving. What would you say to a trip to the islands of Oceania?”
“That’s a pretty big territory. Could you be a little more specific?”
“Not until I do a little more research.”
“Research? I thought you said this was a hone
ymoon.”
“It is. But I’ve been reading about this mysterious French scientist and explorer, Jean-François de Galaup, more famously known as the Count de La Pérouse. He mounted a scientific expedition to the Pacific in 1785 with two ships, the Astrolabe and the Boussole. They sent their last reports back from Australia, then they vanished in Oceania.”
“Imagine that.”
“They were headed for the Santa Cruz Islands in the Solomon group.”
Hazel poked her head through the balcony doors. “Here you two are. Your mother sent me to find you. She wants to talk to you about shopping for a wedding dress, florists, music, and all that good stuff.”
“Can you stall her for me a little longer?”
Hazel smiled. “No problem.”
After she’d gone, Riley rested her head on Cole’s shoulder. “How soon can we leave?”
The characters whose names are followed by an asterisk are real figures from history.
2014 Timeline
MAGGIE RILEY – Former US Marine and solo sailor, she is the captain of the sailing vessel Bonefish. She is now engaged to Cole.
COLE THATCHER – A maritime archeologist who believes in conspiracy theories and is captain of the Exploration Vessel Shadow Chaser II.
THEO SPENSER – From the Caribbean island of Dominica, he is Cole’s first mate and best friend.
HAZEL KITTRIDGE – Riley’s best friend from childhood: African American, gorgeous, and rich.
DR. NAJAT GÜNAY – A renowned historian and director of Heritage Malta, which owns several museums in the islands. She is Turkish by birth but was raised in Malta.
VIRGIL VANDERVOORT – Former US Army Delta Force, he now works for and is a member of the Knights of Malta.
DIGGORY PRIEST – Former CIA agent who used to work for Skull and Bones and killed Riley’s brother and father. He was once Riley’s lover and caused the explosion in which she was injured and burned.
SIGNOR OSCURA – The executive director of the Sovereign Order of the Knights of Malta.
Knight's Cross (The Shipwreck Adventures Book 3) Page 42
