The Hades Conspiracy (A Delphi Group Thriller Book 3)

by John Sneeden

  “If you were a man, you wouldn’t have brought them down here. Their blood is going to be on your hands.”

  “Do you really think you’ll get away with this? Our people are searching the area as we speak.”

  Roger laughed. “I doubt that.”

  The Australian said something to one of his men. Seconds later, the light went out, plunging the tunnel into darkness.

  “Good bye.”

  There was a clicking noise on the far end, and Zane knew what came next. “Get back, everybody! Get back!”

  He turned and ran, as did the others. But it was too late. A flash of light filled the space, followed by a massive explosion. The blast wave hit them like a runaway car, launching Zane into the air.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  BY THE TIME the charge detonated, Roger was already squatting on the tunnel floor, hands pressed against either side of his head. He and the three gunmen had backed around a bend to protect themselves from the effects of the blast, but they still felt the shock waves rolling through the rock beneath their feet.

  In the wake of the explosion, Roger heard boulders, rocks, and other material filling the space. A satisfied grin spread over his face at the thought about how things would now play out. The dwindling oxygen on the other side would bring about the slow death of those who’d caused him so much embarrassment. Not only would they die, they would have plenty of time to think about it.

  He spoke into the darkness. “Turn on the light.”

  One of his men flicked on a pistol-grip spotlight, illuminating the tunnel. A cloud of dust, dirt, and debris snaked around the corner. After giving it a couple of minutes to settle, Lawson led the men around the bend to the blast site. The explosives had worked to perfection. The tunnel was completely blocked. Nothing would pass through. Not even air.

  “Check it,” Roger said. “Make sure it’s completely sealed off.”

  The guards stepped forward and used spotlights to examine every nook and cranny. Five minutes later, one of the men answered. “It’s plugged completely, sir.”

  “Check it again.”

  “It’s sealed as tight as—”

  “I said, check it again!”

  The man was about to protest then thought better of it.

  After they turned around, Roger slid a hand into his pocket and closed his fingers around the grip of a suppressed Glock 17. He slid it out slowly, careful not to make any noise. He stepped behind two guards and shot them in the head, dropping both in succession. Realizing what was happening, the third man swung around, fumbling for his gun. The pistol coughed again, knocking the man backward. He was dead before he hit the ground.

  Roger moved the bodies up against the tunnel wall. He’d dispose of them later. Even he found it a bit distasteful to kill his own men, but that was the problem. There were too many people involved. At some point, someone would talk, and that was unacceptable. As the old saying went, dead men don’t talk.

  He turned back toward the surface. The others were expecting him. It was time to take care of one last problem. Unfortunately, it would be the most difficult task yet.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  CAMILLA LEANED BACK against the hood of a Humvee, shivering in the cold. The snow no longer fell, but the temperatures continued to drop. She guessed it was at least mid-twenties now.

  She looked toward the cave mouth about fifty yards away. Roger should be coming out soon. He and the others had stayed behind to ambush the Americans and the Swiss Guard. This time, he’d promised not to play games. This time, he’d kill them then cast them all into a chasm one of the men had located. According to the guard, it was at least a mile deep.

  Hearing footsteps behind her, Camilla turned and saw Kimberly coming toward her. She’d been helping the guards put a few things in one of the vans. As she drew near, Camilla noted the redhead’s toned legs. The guards had been staring at them all night. Camilla felt a pinch of jealousy as she thought about the woman’s attractiveness. A part of her didn’t like having such a beautiful woman around Roger, but at the same time, she realized Kimberly was invaluable to the business. She was smart, strong, and ferociously loyal.

  Besides, Camilla had no reason to worry about her marriage. A man as handsome and wealthy as Roger Lawson could have anyone he wanted, and he had chosen her. In fact, she found it deeply touching that he was so strongly attracted to her unique appearance.

  “Is that everything?” Camilla asked Kimberly.

  “Just about. I need to gather a few more things inside.”

  Camilla’s eyes narrowed. She’d picked up something odd in Kimberly’s expression, a brief flash of nervousness. Camilla had never seen that in her before. Fear and nerves were foreign to Kimberly’s constitution. Then again, they had been through a lot tonight. A lot of people had died, including a number of innocents. That was enough to rattle even the strongest person.

  Still, Camilla couldn’t help suspecting there was something else. She pushed off the hood. “Let’s go see if Roger has come up yet.”

  The two moved off in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. After they skirted the line of trees, Camilla saw a figure emerge from the cave mouth. Roger. As they drew near, she looked into his eyes, trying to read his expression. Strangely, he too seemed nervous.

  “Is it done?” Camilla asked.

  Roger glanced briefly at Kimberly before facing his wife. “Yes, it’s done.”

  “I need to grab a few things.” Kimberly continued toward the cave.

  Roger watched her walk away. After she disappeared into the tunnel, he looked down at Camilla. “A few more hours and this will all be over.”

  “Your plan was masterful, darling.” Camilla looked into his eyes.

  Roger bent and lifted her in the air. She loved it when he did that. Warmed by his embrace, he pressed her lips against his. Roger kissed her for a moment then pulled back. The kiss was too short. Camilla opened her eyes to find Roger staring at her. She frowned. She’d expected a look of longing. Instead, she saw an empty gaze, devoid of emotion.

  Camilla felt one of his arms fall away while the other held her aloft. “Roger, what’s the matter?”

  His expression darkened.

  Camilla pulled back. “Roger? Did something happen inside? What’s—”

  A muffled gunshot cut her off.

  “Easy.” Roger kissed her forehead. “Just let go.”

  Camilla felt as if a hot poker had been thrust into her abdomen.

  “Why…” she struggled to speak.

  Roger held her gaze, waiting patiently for her to die. For the first time ever, Camilla realized just how dark the man’s soul was. She also realized something else.

  Roger and Kimberly were lovers.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  Palermo, Sicily

  THE COAL-BLACK Maserati GranTurismo roared up the mountain, its headlights gleaming in the darkness like the eyes of a dragon. The car moved gracefully back and forth through the turns, comfortable on the winding roads of Sicily. Roger Lawson glanced down the slope. The lights of Palermo twinkled like jewels along the shore of the Tyrrhenian Sea. The view never got old.

  Lowering the window slightly, he filled his lungs with fresh Mediterranean air. Life couldn’t be better. Yes, Camilla’s murder still haunted him on occasion, but he’d had no interest in hiding his relationship with Kimberly any longer. He was going to spend the rest of his life with her, and there wasn’t room for two women. Besides, if he hadn’t killed Camilla, she surely would’ve killed him.

  Four days had passed since they’d sealed the cave entrance. That meant those inside had long since perished, either from a lack of oxygen or dehydration. Roger had seen some of the giant rats slinking around in the shadows. They probably got to them before the oxygen ran out.

  After sanitizing the site, Roger had driven to Haifa and boarded his yacht. From there, he’d sailed to Croatia, where he had hidden at a close friend’s house, far away from the prying eyes of intelligence
agencies. He hated leaving Kimberly behind, but she and the security team had important business to take care of. After gathering a number of important items from Roger’s home in Jerusalem, they eliminated several “problem” people who knew about the operation.

  In the meantime, Roger had contacted a source in Israeli intelligence, who’d confirmed an investigation was already underway. As it turned out, the Swiss Guard and U.S. government had sent a joint investigative team to Tel Aviv in the wake of the events on Mount Hermon. They confessed their sins to the Israelis but justified their operation by pointing to all the lives that would’ve been lost had they not moved quickly. The Israelis protested vigorously but eventually agreed to work with their allies.

  With a detente now in place, representatives from both countries scoured the slopes of Mount Hermon, looking for any signs of the missing operatives. According to the mole, the whole search was a complete flop. One of the teams found a few odd tire tracks, which couldn’t be traced to any registered vehicle. Another found water bottles and assorted trash among one of the many ruins on the mountain, but authorities traced the items to teenagers who frequented the area.

  Roger assumed his home outside Jerusalem had been turned upside down, but at this point, it didn’t matter. After arriving in Croatia, he’d assumed an alternate identity he’d cultivated for the better part of two decades. Under that alias, he held bank accounts, boats, cars, and real estate in Australia, Sicily, and the United Kingdom. Switching to his new identity meant he would have to forgo a number of valuable assets, but it would be worth it in order to maintain his freedom.

  Roger slowed the Maserati. Two stone pillars flanked the entrance to his villa. He pressed a button on the center console, and the iron gates swung inward. He followed the paved drive to a white stucco villa near the mountain’s peak.

  After getting out, he retrieved a single piece of luggage from the trunk. It was all he’d brought with him. Everything else he needed was inside, including the most important thing of all—a stiff drink.

  The house’s interior was pitch black. After flicking on a light, he turned to the security panel on the wall right inside the door. He was about to enter the code then stopped. The unit’s lights were dark. He leaned closer. The entire system had been turned off. He frowned. The maids must have forgotten to reset the system when they left. It wasn’t the first time this had happened. He made a mental note to speak to them about it later and turned the system back on.

  After dropping his luggage in the master bedroom, Roger made his way to the kitchen at the rear of the home. He entered and flicked on the overhead light. The urge for a drink was powerful now. As he crossed to the cabinets, he pondered the next few weeks. Once the investigation ended, he and Kimberly would return to Hermon and blast their way back through the blockage in the tunnel. After locating the bodies, they would drop them down into one of the many chasms, ensuring they would never be found. At that point, the city would be theirs to loot at their leisure.

  Roger searched until he found his favorite drink, a thousand-euro bottle of Scotch. He twisted the cap then realized it wasn’t sealed. Someone had already been drinking it. Maids. This was the last straw. Forget the talk. He’d fire them in the morning.

  Roger located a whiskey tumbler and filled it halfway. He sniffed the aroma then drained the tumbler in one swallow. The amber liquid warmed his throat, and he could already feel the stress melting away.

  Lawson poured another glass to the rim and headed to the study. He would eventually make it out to the patio, but first, he wanted to review some documents related to his alias. He’d used the papers many times in the past, but from this point forward, they had to be perfect. There was no going back to Roger Lawson. After everything had been reviewed, then and only then, would he venture outside with a third glass of Scotch and a cigar.

  The study was mostly dark, so Roger used the moonlight coming through the window to maneuver behind the desk. He sank into the chair but decided not to turn on the lamp just yet. Work could wait for a moment. Right now, he wanted to think back on the last night he’d spent with Kimberly. Their time together had been exquisite in every way, and it would continue when she arrived in the morning.

  Satisfied by the memories, he reached for the lamp’s pull cord. It was time to get to work. As soon as his fingers closed on the ball, he stopped. Despite the darkness, something caught his eye across the room. He squinted. Finally, he saw it: a dark figure in a chair against the far wall.

  His heart racing, Roger yanked on the lamp cord. A man replaced the dark silhouette. He had long, brown hair and was dressed in dark denim pants and a pocketed button-down shirt.

  Roger’s mouth opened slightly. It’s not possible. It can’t be. Yet he knew it could be no one else.

  The longhaired man lifted a glass that had been hidden in his lap. The Scotch. He took a sip then lifted it into the air. “I hope you don’t mind. It’s always been one of my favorites.” He set the glass on a nearby table. “How was the drive up?”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “What am I doing here? Things ended so quickly the other night. I never felt like we got to say our proper good byes. To be honest, I was actually a little offended you left so quickly. We were having such a blast… Then you just disappeared.”

  Roger ignored the sarcasm. “You’ll regret this.”

  The man laughed. “Oh, I doubt that, Roger. There are a lot of things I regret in life. Coming here is not one of them.”

  Roger could scarcely believe the man was sitting across from him. How had they escaped? Better yet, how had they discovered his identity? His attorneys had assured him it was foolproof. He should’ve listened to Camilla and killed them when he had the chance. Now this man had the upper hand, and barring some miracle, Roger would spend the rest of his life in jail, if not worse.

  Despite the odds, Roger refused to give up. The man might have escaped twice, but he’d also been caught twice. For now, Roger would play to the arrogant fool’s ego and look for an opportunity to turn the tables. “How did you find me?”

  “Oh, that.” The man took another sip of Scotch then continued. “As it turns out, our friends from the Swiss Guard brought an electronic copy of the map, so we studied it and discovered something interesting. There was more than one way out.”

  “You’re lying. There was only one—”

  “To be sure, there were a couple of tight places, but with some hard work and a bit of luck, we managed to get out by the next afternoon.”

  Roger began to focus on getting out of his predicament. While he didn’t see a pistol, he had to assume the man was armed. If so, would he have enough time to jump up and flee the room without being shot? If he managed to get to the hall, he might be able to slip away. After all, he knew the layout of the house better than anyone. If he could somehow get to the bedroom he could retrieve the gun hidden there…

  How could he have forgotten? He didn’t need to get up and run anywhere. He’d hidden several pistols around the house, all of which contained full magazines and one in the chamber. And best of all, one of them was stashed in a drawer mere inches from his hand.

  The only thing left to do now was distract the man a minute longer. Play to his ego. “How did you manage to stay hidden after coming out? I have a source in Israel, and he told us you were never found.”

  “We knew the order had tentacles across the globe, including the United States government. Although we couldn’t be sure, we knew they probably had one or more people in the Israeli government as well. We first contacted those at the highest levels of the Israeli government, people we knew we could trust.”

  “So the meetings that followed were all for show?” Roger lowered his hand off the desk.

  “Precisely.”

  “And the searches?” Roger moved his hand to the third drawer down and grasped the handle.

  “The searches were mostly for show, although the investigators did use the time to gather some evid
ence.”

  Lawson pulled the drawer open slowly, careful not to make a noise. “Were you there with them?”

  The man shook his head. “While the others were at Mount Hermon, we began the true investigation—the hunt for you. I have to give credit where credit is due. Your alias is good. Not good enough, but still one of the best we’ve ever seen.”

  Roger closed his hand around the grip of the pistol resting in the drawer. The longhaired buffoon was gloating, but the gloating—as well as his life—was about to come to an end. With cat-like quickness, Roger whipped out the gun. Before he could pull the trigger, a muzzle flashed across the room.

  Roger grabbed his chest, his pistol falling to the floor. He hadn’t been hit in the heart, but it was close enough. He’d bleed to death in a matter of minutes.

  “Oh, those guns you placed around the house… We emptied most of them, but I left two bullets in that one. My associates told me to empty them all, but I wanted to see just how far you’d take this, Roger. Not only that, but I believe in a fair fight.” He held up his pistol. “I only had one in mine.”

  Roger leaned forward, the life draining out of him. As darkness fell, two thoughts flashed through his mind:

  Kimberly was arriving in the morning.

  And he wouldn’t be there to see her.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  Rome

  AFTER THE DOORS slid shut, the old elevator rattled toward the upper floors. Zane stood at the back, surveying the others. Carmen, Amanda, and Pratt still mourned the loss of their teammate, Connor Reid. Despite the passage of time, his death still hurt deeply. Not only had they lost someone of valor and strength, they had lost a good friend.

  But tonight, he hoped they’d find a way to push aside the pain. After the funeral, Jonas Stegmann had invited them back for a gala in their honor in Rome. The Swiss Guard wanted to thank them for their assistance in retrieving the relic, which they’d retrieved from Roger Lawson’s villa in Palermo. At first, Zane had been hesitant to accept. After all, they were simply doing their jobs. But in the end, he realized they couldn’t decline such a gracious offer.