Still gripping Hajjar’s wrists, Chase pulled his dazed opponent upright. “Hajjar!” he yelled. “Hands up!” He lifted Hajjar’s arms into the air—
Hajjar realized what was about to happen, but too late.
His good hand and the Ingram it was clutching disintegrated in a shower of gore and shattered steel as Chase thrust them into the spinning rotor blades. His knife-hand fared no better, the eight-inch blade snapping like a lollipop stick before the whirling rotor took another two inches off the stump of his wrist.
Hajjar stared in horrified disbelief at the blood gushing from the ends of his arms. Then he looked down as the Englishman swung him around—
Chase’s huge fist delivered a pile-driver blow square in the middle of his flattened, bloodied face. Hajjar staggered back, falling into the cockpit as Chase snagged the strap of his satchel, pulling it from him.
The impact rocked the helicopter, which creaked ominously as its weight shifted.
Chase turned and ran, seeing Castille already racing away for the cover of the stairs with Kari right beside him.
The first lick of flames escaped the battered fuselage, curling around the top of the engine casing as the helicopter toppled completely onto its side. What was left of the rotor blades plowed into the concrete and shattered, torque grinding the chopper’s nose into the helipad. Fuel spilled from the ruptured tanks, raining down on to the burning engine—
Hajjar screamed, but the sound was completely obliterated as the helicopter exploded.
Castille and Kari threw themselves into the arched doorway at the bottom of the stairs. Chase, some yards behind them, could only dive for the ground.
Burning debris rained down, but the fuselage had contained most of the blast. The largest pieces landed well short of him. That didn’t stop a few smaller chunks of mangled metal striking his back and legs. He yelled in pain.
“Edward!” Castille shouted, running back to him.
“Shit!” Chase said, standing painfully and clutching his leg. “Feels like I got kicked by a fucking horse!”
Nina ran down the stairs to Kari. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine!” she said, eyes wide with gratitude. Both women hurried over to Chase. “Did you get the artifact?”
“Are you all right?” Nina asked at the same time. They exchanged smiles, then hurried over to him.
“You see? Helicopters!” said Castille, waving a hand at the burning wreckage. “Twice in five minutes one has almost killed me! Vehicles of the Devil!”
“Hugo? Shut it,” Chase told him wearily, limping to pick up his Wildey.
“The artifact?” Kari asked.
He handed her the satchel. “Here. Hope it’s worth it.”
“It is,” she said, opening the bag and carefully lifting out the metal bar. The nearby flames reflecting from its surface gave it even more of a glow. “This is it,” she said, passing it reverently to Nina. “This is the path to Atlantis.”
Nina took it, examining the symbols scribed into the metal. At once familiar, yet different, mysterious. Then she looked back at Kari. “Not wanting to put a downer on things, but before we go looking for Atlantis, we are still stuck in Iran.”
“I wouldn’t say we’re completely stuck,” said Chase. “I saw something that might be handy …”
Hajjar’s other men were either dead, or had decided that survival outweighed loyalty to their late employer and run away. The group encountered no further resistance as Chase led them to the main courtyard.
In the northeastern corner was a set of large doors. He swung them open.
“Hajjar’s taxi service,” he proclaimed, sweeping an arm at the rows of expensive vehicles parked within. “Not quite as good as your collection, boss, but it’ll do. So, what do you want?”
“I don’t think we’ll get very far in a Ferrari,” Castille noted of the yellow F355 near the doors, “not on the local roads. And it may be a little … high profile.”
“A Hummer isn’t exactly hard to spot either,” added Kari, examining a bright green H3 disdainfully.
“You got any preferences, Doc?” Chase asked Nina.
“Please stop calling me that. And I just want whatever gets us out of here as quickly as possible.”
“Well in that case,” he said, eyes lighting on a particular vehicle, “might as well do it in style. Maybe Hajjar wasn’t so bad after all…”
A few minutes later, a silver Range Rover charged down the twisting road from the fortress, then with the throaty roar of a V-8 engine headed away into the mountains.
TEN
France
Iran was a long way behind her. And thank God for that, thought Nina, as she gazed out from the hotel balcony over Paris. From the penthouse suite, she had a clear view across the city. Landmarks like Notre-Dame and, farther away, the Eiffel Tower stood out in their floodlit glory against the clear night sky as if placed there for her personal pleasure.
But sightseeing would have to wait. She had work to do first. And she didn’t seem to be getting anywhere.
Someone knocked on the door. “Come in,” she called, turning away from the balcony. Kari entered.
“Are you ready, Nina?” she asked.
“I don’t know …” Nina shot an aggrieved look at the Atlantean artifact, which was surrounded by her notes beneath an illuminated magnifying lens. “I’ve done as much as I can, but it’s not enough. I still can’t translate some of the symbols. Why, is your father waiting for me?”
Kari nodded, then smiled. “But don’t worry. You’re one of the few people in the world he’s willing to wait upon.”
“Well, I’m honored, but it doesn’t make me any less nervous.”
“There’s no reason to be nervous. You’re already closer to finding Atlantis than anyone since the ancient Athenians.”
“Yeah, and look what I’ve been through—what we’ve been through—to get there! I still don’t think I’ve got that horrible stink out of my hair.”
“Come on,” Kari said reassuringly, “let’s tell my father what you’ve found out.”
Nina picked up the artifact and Kari led her into the adjoining room, a lounge at the center of the suite. Chase lurked near the door, his jacket off and his Wildey’s shoulder holster in plain sight. Castille was absent; Nina suspected he was guarding the corridor outside. “Hi, Doc,” Chase said cheerfully. He nodded at the top-of-the-line laptop sitting on a table. “Hope you’ve got your makeup on, you’re going to be on camera.”
“Oh, we’re videoconferencing?”
“My father likes to talk face to face, even when he can’t do so literally,” said Kari. “Come on, sit down. Do you want anything?”
“No thanks.” Although she wouldn’t have minded a drink to settle her nerves.
Nina sat in front of the laptop, Kari joining her and tapping a key on the computer. The screen came to life, revealing Kristian Frost in his office. “Dr. Wilde! I’m glad to see you again!”
“I’m glad to be seen!” Nina told him. “It was a bit more … well, violent than I expected.”
“So I heard. Were there any problems getting out of Iran?”
“Nothing serious,” said Kari. “Mr. Chase’s local contacts got us back to Esfahān, and the foundation’s influence with the government let us clear the country unchecked.”
“And Hajjar?”
“Dead.”
Frost nodded. “Good. A shame about the ten million dollars, but it’s a small price to pay.” His face became eager. “So, Dr. Wilde. Please tell me what you have found.”
Nina cleared her throat. “Well, I’m afraid it’s not a direct route to Atlantis, unfortunately. But it’s definitely a map of some kind.” She held up the metal bar, turning it to the laptop’s camera. “The line running down its length represents a river—the Glozel word is unmistakable. And there are other markings, which I’ve been able to partially translate.” She checked her notes. “‘Begin from north mouth of’ the something ‘river. Se
ven, south, west. Follow course to city of,’ um, something. ‘There to find …’ I’m afraid that’s all I’ve got so far. But these markings to each side, I think they show the number of tributaries you have to pass to reach the destination. Four on the left, seven on the right, and so on.”
Frost was intrigued. “I take it the words you can’t translate are not Glozel.”
“No. They’re actually more like hieroglyphics than letters, part of a different linguistic system. The frustrating thing is that they seem familiar, but I can’t place them. They could be a regional variation …”
“Interesting. Kari, can you take pictures of the markings and send them to me, please? I want a closer look.”
“Of course, Far,” Kari answered, using the Norwegian term for father. She took the artifact from Nina and started a program to photograph it with the laptop’s camera.
Chase came over as she worked. “So who are these Glozelians, Doc? I did GCSE history, but I’ve never heard of them.”
Nina laughed. “You wouldn’t have, because they don’t exist.”
He looked puzzled. “Eh?”
“Glozel is—at least at the moment—the oldest known written language,” she explained, “a sort of ancestor to several others, including Vinca-Tordos and Byblos.” Chase’s expression didn’t change. “Which I guess you’ve never heard of either!”
“I said I did GCSE history. I didn’t say I passed it.”
“It’s named after the town where it was discovered. Here in France, actually.”
Kari finished taking pictures and put the artifact down, addressing Chase as she sent the files to her father. “The Glozel Tablets were found in a cave beneath farmland in 1924 by a man called Émile Fradin. Because they indicated an earlier origin than any language known at the time, they were dismissed as fakes—but when they were tested with new dating techniques fifty years later, it turned out that they really did date back to at least 10,000 BC.”
Chase whistled. “Bloody hell. That’s really old.”
“There was a civilization using a complex written language in Europe several millennia before even the ancient Greeks,” said Nina, “and that civilization was widespread enough to influence the languages of the Phoenicians, the Greeks, the Hebrews … even the Romans and Persians.”
“And that civilization…” Chase gazed at the artifact, the golden reflected light illuminating his features from below. “You think it was Atlantis?”
“She does,” said Kari. “And so do I.”
“In that case? I do too.” He smiled at Nina. “So how do we find out which river to check?”
“That’s the problem,” Nina told him reluctantly. “I don’t know. This figure on the main inscription,” she pointed out the little group of seven dots, “seems to be some unit of distance. The words following it mean ‘south’ and ‘west.’ ”
Chase examined the artifact more closely. “So it could mean seven miles southwest of somewhere, or seven south and then go west…”
“Exactly. The problem is, we don’t know what units are being used, or even what they relate to—their ‘zero point.’ ”
“Atlantis, I’d guess.” Nina looked at him, impressed. “Hey, I’ve been known to use my brain from time to time.”
“Dr. Wilde,” said Frost over the videolink, catching everybody’s attention, “I’ve just looked at the markings. I didn’t expect that my knowledge would be any greater than yours, and I was right. I don’t recognize them either. But,” he went on, catching Nina’s glum expression, “I will arrange for an expert in ancient languages to view the artifact.”
Nina’s face fell further. “Oh. So you don’t need me anymore, or …”
Kari laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous, Nina! You’re the most important person on the entire mission! In fact, without you there wouldn’t even be a mission.”
“Kari is absolutely right, Dr. Wilde,” said Frost reassuringly. “You’re irreplaceable.”
“Our expert can decipher the remaining characters when he gets to Paris,” Frost said. “Then, once we know which river to search, we can prepare for a full expedition.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier just to e-mail this guy some pictures?” Nina asked.
“After your last experience, I don’t want anybody to see the artifact except under conditions we can totally control. The fewer people who know about it, the better.”
“Good point.”
Frost gave her a broad smile. “There’s no need to feel downhearted, Dr. Wilde. You’ve done excellent work! I think we’re now closer to finding Atlantis than ever before. Congratulations!”
The praise boosted Nina’s spirits immediately. “Thank you!”
“Since there’s nothing more you can do for the moment, I suggest you take a break and enjoy Paris. Kari can show you around. I’ll speak to you again soon. Good-bye.” The screen went black.
Kari checked her watch. “It’s a bit late to show you around town now, unfortunately. We should probably go to bed.”
“Oh, aye?” said Chase, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Kari glared at him again. “Sorry, boss,” he said, without a hint of genuine contrition behind his smirk.
“Have you ever been to Paris before, Nina?” Kari asked.
“Yes, but only briefly. I was with my parents; they were going to an archaeological conference. And I was only nine, so I didn’t really appreciate it.”
Kari smiled. “In that case, tomorrow we’ll do something that you can appreciate.”
That something turned out to be art, cuisine… and shopping.
They spent the morning at the Louvre, Chase acting as Nina and Kari’s escort while Castille guarded the Atlantean artifact at the hotel, before moving on to Paris’s consumerist heart.
“Uh, I don’t think so,” said Nina, pausing at the entrance to Christian Lacroix’s store on the rue du Faubourg St-Honoré. “My credit card’ll spontaneously combust if I even look at the prices. I’m more of a T. J. Maxx kind of girl.”
“Thank God,” Chase exclaimed with a mocking smile. “Nothing more boring than standing about watching women try on clothes. Unless they’re bikinis.” Nina made a face at him, which only served to widen his grin.
“Don’t worry about it,” said Kari. “From now on, you have unlimited credit. The Frost Foundation will pay for anything you need. Or want, for that matter.”
“Seriously?” Nina asked.
Kari nodded. “Absolutely. Well, within reason. If you want to buy a Lamborghini, you should probably ask first! But you can get anything you want. Treat yourself.”
“Thank you,” said Nina, feeling oddly uncomfortable about receiving such largesse. It wasn’t something she was used to. She decided to restrain herself, whatever Kari might buy.
An hour later, she was staggered to realize that she’d spent almost a thousand euros. Definitely not T. J. Maxx prices. And that was barely a quarter of Kari’s total bill.
“Better be careful, Doc,” said Chase. “You get into the habit of spending that much, you’ll be in trouble when you get back to New York and blow your rent money on shoes!”
“I don’t think so,” Kari countered. “When we find Atlantis, money will be the last thing you need to worry about. We’ll take care of you.”
“Really? Thank you,” said Nina.
Kari smiled at her. “We always look after our own.”
Nina wanted to ask exactly what she meant by that, but Kari was already hailing a taxi.
Their next destination was a restaurant called L’Opéra. The place was busy with well-heeled Parisians enjoying the traditionally lengthy French lunch.
Nina didn’t think there were any tables available, but she soon discovered that for daughters of billionaire philanthropists, tables very quickly became available. “I despise crowds,” Kari sighed, after speaking to the maître d’ in perfect French and getting a flurry of activity from the staff in response. “It always reminds me that there are just too many people on the planet. The
resources we have aren’t sustainable for a population of close to seven billion.”
Nina nodded. “Too bad there’s not much you can do about it.”
“We’ll see. The Frost Foundation is doing what it can.”
While they waited for the maître d’ to return, Chase examined a menu and grimaced. “I’m more of a fish and chips kind of bloke,” he objected. “Think I’ll sit this one out and grab a burger later.”
“First you complain that the Mona Lisa’s ‘a bit small and grubby,’ and now this? You’re such a philistine, Eddie,” Nina said, amused. “You’re not just going to sit there and get drunk, are you?”
“Not while I’m on the clock. Besides, I can keep a better eye on the entrance from the bar,” Chase told her. “Make sure nobody tries to ruin your dinner.”
“You, ah … you think there might be trouble?”
Chase gave her a smile that was simultaneously reassuring and ominous. “There’ll only be trouble if anyone tries anything. You two enjoy your nosh, I’ll watch out for you.” With a final survey of the other patrons, he headed for the bar, perching on a stool where he could observe the restaurant.
Their table now prepared, a waiter led Nina and Kari to it. Nina glanced over towards Chase once they were seated. “Do you think we really might be in danger?” she asked Kari.
“It’s always a possibility,” she replied. “Qobras and his people will almost certainly have found out by now that we escaped from Iran. Which is why we need to work as quickly as possible—the longer it takes, the greater the risk of him finding us.”
“And trying to kill us again?”
“We’re not going to allow that to happen,” Kari said firmly. Her expression softened. “Nina, I never thanked you properly.”
“For what?”
“You saved my life! In Hajjar’s fortress, when you shot at the helicopter. That was a very clever and incredibly brave thing to do.”
Nina blushed. “Ah, actually … I was terrified that if I shot the chopper, it would instantly blow up!”
Kari laughed again. “That only happens in movies! No, you were very brave, and I am incredibly grateful that you were.” She gently squeezed Nina’s hand. “If there is anything you ever need—anything—just ask me.”
The Hunt for Atlantis_A Novel Page 15
