by David Wood
As rational thought took hold, he considered their options. He and Bones were on the sheriff’s radar, and likely wouldn’t get anywhere if they showed up at the jail. Besides, they were in a foreign country. What she needed right now was bail money, a good attorney, or both.
“We need to call Charlie,” he finally said. “He’s got money and connections we don’t have. If we show up there, we might get arrested too.”
Bones considered that for several seconds before acquiescing. “Yeah, Charlie’s the man for the job. He can take care of getting her out while we follow up on this.” He tapped the casket.
“The mystery’s solved,” Maddock said. “That casket was the only thing on the island. Once it’s opened, that’s it.”
“Hardly,” Avery said. “There were three chests. Three treasures. I don’t think Dad planned on quitting after only one. He’d follow it all the way to the end.”
“You know how it goes with us, Maddock.” Bones leaned forward and rested his chin on the back of Avery’s seat. “The first thing we find is never it. There’s always more.”
“Yeah, I know.” Maddock chuckled. “You can’t blame a guy for wishing for a quiet life.”
“I’m not even going to comment.” Bones sat quietly for a minute, then suddenly burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?” Avery asked.
“Angel’s going to be pissed when she finds out we started without her. She’s been dying to go on another of our little adventures.”
“Do you do this sort of thing often?” Avery looked from Bones to Maddock, who grinned ruefully.
“You have no idea.”
They contacted Charlie, who assured them he would take care of Angel, as well as send a couple of his men to the cottage to collect everyone’s remaining belongings. They didn’t provide him with any details of what they had discovered beneath Oak Island, but assured him the search was over and encouraged him to pack up his crew and return to the States as soon as possible. By the time they rendezvoused with Corey and Willis, who met them aboard Sea Foam, they had filled Avery in on all the details of the hidden Templar church. She was fascinated and couldn’t wait to see the pictures they’d taken, but was even more eager to see what was hidden in the casket.
While Willis piloted the boat toward international waters, Maddock, Bones, Corey, and Avery gathered belowdecks. Using small chisels, Maddock worked at the seal until he freed the lid. He paused and took a long look at the others. This was the moment he relished- the edge of revelation.
“Stop titillating us and open it already,” Corey said.
“Dude, you said tit.” Bones elbowed Corey, who winced and rubbed his arm.
“Are they always like this?” Avery cast an annoyed glance at Bones and Corey.
“What did I do?” Corey complained.
“Never mind,” Maddock said. “Masks on and we’ll do this.” When they had all donned surgical masks, Maddock took hold of the lid and lifted it free.
The inside was stuffed with a tangle of stringy brown material.
“Coconut fiber,” Avery said. “It was used for packing material. They even found some in the Money Pit.”
Maddock reached a gloved hand inside and pushed the fiber aside to reveal a dagger with a dark, mottled blade and a gleaming white handle. He looked up to see Avery holding the casket lid in trembling hands, and Bones and Corey looking over her shoulder.
“Carnwennan.” She turned the lid so Maddock could see the Latin word carved on the inside. The word was unfamiliar, but the look in her eyes told him it was significant.
“And what is that?” he asked.
“King Arthur’s dagger.” She leaned in for a closer look. “He had three legendary weapons: Caliburn, which we know as Excalibur, Rhongomnyiad, his spear, and Carnwennan, his dagger.”
“Wait, so we’ve just found proof that...” Bones began.
“King Arthur was an actual, historical figure?” Maddock finished. His mind was numb with shock. He’d expected to find treasure beneath Oak Island, but not this.
“It was one of the legends associated with Oak Island, but probably the most far-fetched one of them all.” Avery’s voice trembled.
“But why would somebody try to kill us for it?” Bones asked. “I mean, it’s a huge discovery, but there’s got to be more.”
Maddock withdrew the dagger and held it up to the light. The blade was made of a substance unfamiliar to him. It was mottled gray, its surface covered in a hexagonal grid of alternating light and dark metals. The blade was honed to razor sharpness, and the butt was translucent, almost black, like obsidian.
As he gazed at it, the handle began to pulse with a dull, bluish-white glow that gained strength with every beat.
“What is it doing?” Avery took a step back as if it were a venomous snake.
Maddock didn’t reply, but removed his hand from the hilt and, carefully holding the knife by the blade, held it up to the light. The pulses came faster, the light more intense until it shone so bright that Maddock had to avert his eyes, and a low hum filled the room.
And then it stopped.
The hilt no longer shone, but it glowed a brighter white than before. Pinpoints of light like tiny galaxies sparkled deep in the handle and butt, and threads of blue flickered around the hexagonal patterns on the blade.
“It’s like it absorbed energy from the light,” Avery said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“We have.” Bones grimaced.
Maddock examined the dagger closely, carefully running his finger along its length. There was something odd about the way the butt was made. It was concave on the bottom and flattened out so that it did not quite conform to the dimensions of the hilt. Frowning, he pressed his thumb into the recess. Nothing. Then he gave it a twist.
The dagger vibrated and his vision swam for a split second.
“What the hell?” Bones said.
“Maddock! Where did you go?” Avery sounded panicked.
“I’m standing right here.”
“No way.” Bones reached out awkwardly, as if he were playing Blind Man’s Bluff, and grabbed Maddock by the forearm. “He really is here,” he marveled.
“But... how?” She gaped at a spot a few inches to Maddock’s left.
“What are you two talking about?” Maddock looked back and forth between the two of them. If it were only Bones, he’d figure it was a lame joke, but Avery appeared rattled.
“Dude, you’re invisible.” Bones’ matter of fact tone was void of humor. “One second you were there and then you were gone.”
“It must be the dagger.” He explained what he had done, and what he had seen and felt.
“The stories are true,” Avery whispered. “Legend says Carnwennan had the power to cloak its owner in shadow. It really does make you invisible.”
Maddock turned the butt back and, once again, the room swam for an instant.
“He’s back!” Bones said. “Here, let me see that.”
Maddock handed him the dagger and, a moment later, Bones vanished.
“I don’t feel anything,” Bones’ voice said from nowhere. “Am I really invisible?”
“Yes, but we still recognize your foul stench,” Maddock deadpanned.
“Star Wars quotes are my job,” Bones said.
Maddock stared at the spot where he heard Bones’ voice. He thought about what Avery had said. Carnwennan cloaked its bearer in shadow. He wondered...
“Bones, do me a favor and move side to side a little.”
“You mean like line dancing? You know I hate anything redneckish.”
“Just do it.”
“Fine, I’ll do the Casper Slide. Ready? To the left!” Bones began chanting lyrics and, presumably, dancing.
Maddock followed the sound and, sure enough, he saw movement.
“Avery, Corey, can you see it?” He drew them to his side and pointed. “If you really focus, you can tell a difference between the space where Bones is and the wall be
hind it.”
Avery narrowed her eyes and, a few seconds later, smiled.
“It’s like an imperfect piece of glass. You can see through it, but something’s just a little bit off.”
Bones stopped chanting and, an instant later, reappeared.
“I don’t think a woman’s ever called me imperfect and a little bit off in one breath.”
“No one’s ever made the mistake of thinking you were only a little bit off.” Maddock relieved his friend of the dagger and held it out so everyone could see it. “Look at the pattern on the blade and think about what this dagger does.”
“It’s a cloaking device!” Bones said, following Maddock’s line of thought almost immediately. “This isn’t some magic weapon. It’s seriously advanced technology.”
“Scientist are in the early stages of developing technology that bends light rays, making a particular spot invisible,” Maddock said, noticing Avery’s confused expression. “Nobody’s achieved anything like this, though.”
“But this has clearly been down there for centuries. And if it’s really Carnwennan, how did they get their hands on such technology?”
“I don’t know,” Maddock said, though he was turning over a myriad of ideas in his mind. “But now we know why someone would kill in order to get their hands on it.”
Chapter 18
Angel sat stock-still, her eyes on the widening band of gray light where someone was opening the door to her small room. She was locked in what looked like a basement storage room, but she didn’t know where. A dark figure loomed in shadow, and then a light clicked on. In the instant before she closed her eyes against the sudden glare, she caught a glimpse of a blocky man with red hair.
“Glad to see you’re awake.” He smiled. “We need to talk.”
Angel’s only reply was to suggest he use an orifice other than his mouth when speaking. She usually liked a guy with a British accent, but not under these circumstances.
“That won’t do.” Still smiling, he shook his head, his eyes roving up and down her body. “I’ll explain.” He pulled up a stool and sat down next to her. “We want information, and we will have it. If you talk to me, things will go easier for you. If you talk to Locke...” He let the words hang there, and gave her a look that told her Locke was the last person she wanted to deal with.
“Where am I?”
“We’re in the museum. Now, tell us what we need to know and we can have you back with your friends in a thrice.”
“Right.” She didn’t believe a word of it. “Explain to me why I should believe anything a kidnapper tells me.”
“I didn’t kidnap you, love. I’m merely gathering information.” He winked, making her stomach twist. Even if he wasn’t her captor he’d be creepy. That big, moon face and massive body reminded her of the inbred killers that hacked their way through so many horror flicks. “I’m not one of the bad ones.”
“So, you’ll take these off of me,” she indicated her handcuffed wrists, “and let me go.”
“Sure.”
The reply surprised Angel. She searched his eyes for signs of deception.
“I’ll take the cuffs off right now to show you I’m a reasonable man and, after you answer my questions, you can walk. Hell, I’ll even give you a lift to the airport.”
No way in hell was she getting in a car with this creep, not that she believed for a second that he intended to release her, but she played along. If he was willing to uncuff her, that meant he didn’t expect a girl of her size to pose any kind of threat. At a good two hundred-fifty pounds, she imagined few women, or men for that matter, were a threat. She’d have to be fast and would need a bit of luck on her side, but what did she have to lose? They were going to kill her anyway.
“Fair enough.” She held up her hands, and watched as he fished a key out of his pocket and unlocked one side of the cuffs. The moment he turned his attention to the other cuff, she struck.
She drove her fist into his Adam’s apple, and he reeled back, gasping and clutching at his throat. Angel sprang to her feet and whipped her left hand around. Still locked onto her left wrist, the handcuffs cracked across the bridge of his nose, sending up a spray of blood that spattered across the wall. She attacked with fury, knowing the blows she had struck were far from incapacitating. She poured all her strength into an overhand right that caught the taller man squarely on the chin, followed it up with a knee to the groin, and pounded away with a rapid flurry of punches to the chin, face, and temple. It was like chopping down a tree. He was too stunned by surprise and the force of her blows to do more than throw up his beefy hands in a weak attempt to fend off her attack.
It did no good. Angel was a well-conditioned professional athlete and this was nothing more than a training exercise to her. She threw in a few hard kicks to the side of the knee and, slowly, the man slid down to the floor, Angel delivering kicks and elbow strikes as he went down. When he finally fell into a sitting position, his eyes were glassy and his face a mask of blood. She drove her knee into his forehead for good measure, smashing the back of his head against the wall. His eyes rolled back in his head and he was out.
She made a hasty search of the floor, found the handcuff key, and freed her wrist, then searched his pockets for a weapon or anything else that might be of use, but all she found was a key ring. She took it just in case and crept to the door, tried the handle, and found it unlocked. Holding her breath, she opened it an inch and peered out.
She was looking at a narrow corridor lit by a row of bare bulbs. At the far end, a staircase led up into the darkness. Her pounding heart was the only sound she heard, so she slipped through the door and closed it behind her. She tried three keys on the ring before finding the proper one, and locked the thug in.
Smiling, she trotted down the corridor, almost wishing someone would try to stop her. She was ready to take somebody else down. She wasn’t that stupid, though, so she proceeded up the stairs with caution.
At the top, she found herself in the middle of a long hallway lined with doors on one side. None were marked.
“How the hell am I supposed to choose?” she whispered. Figuring one was as good as the other, she tried the closest door. It wasn’t locked. She peeked through and found herself staring at a dark figure holding an upraised sword. She gasped and almost slammed the door shut, but just as quickly had to suppress a laugh.
It was a wax figure, a pirate armed with a realistic-looking sword. He loomed over another wax figure posed as a cowering woman. She had discovered the access door to one of the museum’s exhibits. She inferred from the dim lights and empty museum that it was early morning and the place was not yet open. Good!
Only a low rail separated the exhibit from the museum’s viewing area and, across the way, a window beckoned to her. She crept into the exhibit area and closed the door behind her when heavy footsteps sounded in the quiet room only feet from her. She lay down behind the woman on the floor and tried to cram herself into the tiny space behind it. She watched, heart in her throat, as an armed man walked past. He wasn’t a uniformed security guard, and that frightened her even more. She’d take a rent-a-cop over a dude who looked like he could handle himself any day of the week.
He was a tall, muscular man with a shaved head. He wore a pistol on one hip and a knife on the other. He moved with detached ease, as if nothing could harm him, but his eyes were alert. As a fighter, she was always the aggressor, taking the battle to her opponent without fear. That same drive urged her to jump the guy, but common sense prevailed. This guy wasn’t a careless idiot like the dolt she’d taken out downstairs. She’d need more than her bare hands to deal with this fellow.
She held her breath, convinced he could hear the pounding of her heart, and prayed for him to pass her by without seeing her.
After three eternal seconds he did just that, continuing on through the museum. She didn’t permit herself to breathe until his footsteps faded in the distance. When she was certain he was gone, she counted to three
before rising and peering around the side of the exhibit. He was gone. What was more, the lobby was only fifty feet or so to her right. As she watched, a woman in a cleaning uniform appeared from somewhere near the lobby, unlocked the front door, and left. She did not lock it behind her.
Angel didn’t hesitate. She sprang to her feet, knocking the pirate to the floor, vaulted the rail, and made a dash for the door. Outside, the cleaning lady was climbing into a van. Maybe Angel could catch a ride.
She hit the lobby at full steam and was just reaching out to push the door open when her world dissolved into ice and pain. She slammed face-down on the tile floor, her arms and legs suddenly useless. The wind was knocked out of her and she tasted warm, salty blood in her mouth.
“Was my little dove trying to fly the coop?” Locke loomed over her, holding a taser and smiling. “I must say, I do enjoy shattering dreams at the very moment they are to be realized.”
“She almost made it.” The big guy she’d seen patrolling moments before stood behind Locke, looking equally pleased. “I wonder what she did to Charles?”
“Yes, I wonder that as well.” Locke dropped to a knee and leaned in close. “Charles was a test. He’s a great fool, and I’d have been disappointed had you not escaped him. Just know that you can’t escape me.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a syringe. “By the time we get you back to your cell, you should be most tractable.”
Angel watched in horror as the needle descended toward her limp arm. She heard someone screaming, then realized it was her.
Tamsin gazed across her desk at the surprise guest who had just interrupted her day. He was a pale man, his blond hair nearly white. She’d have mistaken him for an albino, but his eyes were alarmingly blue. He grinned, his perfect white teeth blending in with his pale face. Ordinarily, she’d never have granted an audience to a perfect stranger, but his cryptic explanation of his business had been enough to get her attention. He knew something about Kidd, or so he claimed.
