“You think there’ll be a squabble?” Alicia said drily.
“Shit, it could be outright war if someone lights the tinder the right way.”
“For a place that’s been missing for so long,” Dahl said. “It seems to have been found awful fast.”
“Once the right clues come to the surface it’s only a matter of how fast you work,” Kinimaka rumbled across the airwaves. “We found the tombs in Hawaii and Germany pretty quickly once the Icelandic one came to light.”
“What clues?”
Hayden butted in. “We’ll explain later. But the Americans have been searching for Mu since the 1940s so don’t think this is a lightning find. They’ve sunk ships, stolen treasure and hidden artefacts to do it.”
“Where does Dudley fit in?” Drake wondered.
“Working for the Pythians, he’s over in your—how do you say it?” Kinimaka pondered. “ ‘Neck of the woods’ right now.”
“Not bad, Mano, we’ll make an honorary Yorkshireman of you yet.” Drake ignored the Hawaiian’s snort. “Dudley’s in Asia?”
“Him and his inner circle of jerks. They call themselves the 27-Club and there’s seven of them.”
“Yeah, stay alert, man,” Smyth said. “They’re bug-fuck crazy, worse even than Myles.”
Alicia glanced over from her perch beside a makeshift bar, but didn’t deign to comment. Chances were high she hadn’t actually heard the entire sentence as Dai Hibiki was talking into his own cellphone beside her, liaising with his police office back in Tokyo. Hayden filled the silence. “Dudley has been seen in Taiwan, in the vicinity of where Mu is believed to lie. We’re still working on the language to give us an exact location. He could be overseeing operations there.”
“Interesting.” Drake keenly wanted to end the man’s involvement in world affairs once and for all. “We could always pay him a visit.”
“Sit tight for now,” Hayden continued. “All that’s old news. We’re struggling with something new at present. You see, if the Pythians have found Mu what do they intend to do with that knowledge?”
“Or rather—who do they intend to hurt?” Karin put in with a resigned sigh.
“Any ideas?” Drake asked.
“Yes,” Hayden said. “Unfortunately we do. Our friends in the Pentagon and others in the CIA report that the Chinese government is being ransomed for something, but we don’t know what.”
“The Pythians are ransoming Mu?” Drake said, feeling more than a little skepticism. “Its location maybe? That doesn’t sound right at all.”
“Not for them,” Smyth agreed. “Too tame.”
“And how’re they gonna stop the Chinese from getting to it?” Dahl said. “No, it’s something else.”
“Well, that’s what we think,” Karin said. “Trouble is, it’s the Chinese inner circle who are being ransomed and—to quote the great William Goldman—‘nobody knows anything’.”
“I may have something.” At that moment Hibiki pocketed his phone and walked over to Drake. “Since you’re already knee-deep in this Mu thing and I’m right here with you I’ve been asked to act as liaison between our insiders in Beijing and Tokyo. Nothing risky or serious,” he said in response to a look from Chika. “Just collating the facts that trickle out of China’s capital.”
“You’re their first contact?” Karin asked.
“I am now.”
“So what do you know?” Drake slid the cellphone closer to him.
“There’s an emergency meeting of the inner circle of the Chinese government scheduled for later today. Something’s wrong with Mu, and the men of power aren’t happy.”
“What is wrong?”
“Like you said—nobody knows. But there’s not one scrap of elation over the sudden discovery of Mu. Not an ounce of celebration. This kingdom is their ancestry, part of not only their beginnings but the creation of the human race, and all we hear coming out of Beijing are these sneaky connivings . . . and fear.”
“The Pythians are up to something,” Drake affirmed.
“Yeah,” Hayden drawled. “But what?”
*
Mai lay back, struggling with the bizarre dilemma of occupying a room with so many people she loved and wanting to hurt most of them. Even Chika should have known better than to infiltrate the Yakuza. It was only going to end one way.
So she side-tracked herself with Grace. The young girl was none the worse for wear after her Kobe adventure; even more bubbly than usual because the constant activity had helped distract her mind. Even so, Mai saw dangerous storm clouds sweeping through the girl’s eyes.
“There’s something new,” Mai said, sitting up a little, wincing as pain from the bullet wound and new aches began to pulse. “I can tell. Another memory?”
“Having the Japanese mob chasing me isn’t enough?”
“No.”
A sigh. “I just wanna be part of the team, you know? If I can’t be a fighter let me be a geek. Like Karin. Drake said it’d be okay.”
“Did he?” Mai wasn’t entirely sure the Yorkshireman would have agreed.
“Well, he didn’t say no. So that’s a yes. Right?”
Mai read the flippant way Grace tossed the situation away and decided to dig a little deeper. The barriers were up. Maybe a little heartfelt admission would help. “Look, I’m grateful all these amazing friends came to help me. I really am. But I’m also really mad at them right now for endangering so many lives, including their own! I’m not a heartless bitch, Grace, I’m a caring one and that’s why I’m furious.”
“Even at Drake?”
“Especially at Drake.”
Grace sniffed. “I like him. I’ll take him off your hands.”
Mai did a quick double take. The girl wasn’t joking. “All right, all right, let’s get real. You’re sixteen going on thirty, I get that. But Grace, you need your own life. The fourteen years between now and then are the years that are going to shape you, make you, and heal you. Believe it—when we get back to the States it’s straight to school for you, young lady.”
Grace pouted. Mai had intended the statement to be part fact, part joke, but the huge implications of it suddenly weighed heavy upon her. Could she ever go back? Could Chika? The Yakuza would hunt them forever. They would have to be in hiding for the rest of their desperate lives.
She studied Grace closely. “Is that it? Nothing else?”
“Whilst Drake was out sorting the bikes and the cash yesterday,” Grace spoke her mind out of the blue. “I got a call from the investigator, Hardy. He told me . . .” the seventeen-year-old paused, the words caught in her throat.
Mai reached out, sensing her distress.
“He told me that my real parents have been traced and that they’re dead. They blamed themselves for losing me, couldn’t cope, and fell apart. They just . . . gave up.”
Mai saw tears in Grace’s eyes and grabbed hold of her, hugging her close and cursing silently at the world. It couldn’t even give this girl a break. Grace was trying her heart out, struggling to overcome her past, and Mai wished she could just get one fucking break.
“I’ll train you,” she said abruptly, out of nowhere.
Grace sniffed and pulled away. “Eh? You’ll what?”
“I don’t know.” Mai’s head was mush, full of doubt, uncertainty, anger and even fear.
“You said you’d train me. I heard you.”
Drake heard and came right over. “Mai’s a great teacher,” he said with an idiotic smile that Mai wanted to slap right off. “You couldn’t do better.”
Grace looked even happier. “I’d love that. I really would. I’m already fast, maybe half-trained after . . . well, you know. See, I remember that. Oh, this is great. Let’s start now!”
Mai could have slapped herself for blurting out such thoughtless words. To train somebody was to consciously place them in harm’s way. It was not a passive act, not even a defensive one—not the way she did it. If she trained Grace it would be to turn her into a weapon.
And, after that, what came next?
Where do we go from here?
CHAPTER THIRTY
Hayden entered the home she shared with Mano, mulling over all the fragmentary pieces that comprised the Pythians’ latest plan. This mastermind, this leader she had already met called Tyler Webb, seemed to have gathered a veritable mental institution together—an institution of like-minded, ultra-wealthy, powerful, repressed and psychopathic individuals. If aerosolizing bubonic plague wasn’t enough, then how about ransoming and threatening the world’s most formidable emerging superpower?
Probably not.
Memories of other Pythian projects filtered through her mind as she closed and locked the door. Galleons and Tesla and what was the big one? Saint Germain? One day she would have to hit serious research mode to see if some clues to the future were already emerging. Maybe it would help to advance Webb’s incarceration date.
For they would get him, dead or alive. Of that she had no doubt.
Kinimaka headed for the kitchen, already rubbing his hands together and no doubt imagining up a grand feast. The couch shuddered as his left hip rammed into it. No matter. The Hawaiian was a substantial amount of incredible things but he was never going to be her dance partner.
Hayden headed for the shower, taking her cellphone with her. They were still very much on call, waiting for developments to emerge from China and Taiwan, but the little side trips like this were what kept them human, and on top of their game. The water was hot and refreshing, pounding down onto her shoulders and spine. She lingered a while and then wrapped the big soft towel around herself and stepped into their bedroom, casting around for fresh clothes.
Her phone rang. It was the hospital calling. Hayden’s antennae rose instantly and then stayed on high alert as the head of security spoke for several minutes.
“Nothing was taken,” he finished. “Nobody was harmed. It all seems whacky to me. Just this letter P drawn on the wall.”
Hayden found her gaze transfixed on something as she listened. “Where was it drawn on the wall?”
“Umm, next to Miss Fox’s head.”
Hayden tried to drag her eyes away from something but couldn’t. “And that’s it? No damage? No . . . letter or anything? Nothing else that shouldn’t be there?”
“Not that we can make out. Do you know what’s going on here, Agent Jaye?”
“It’s not Agent—” she began and then a hand fell on her shoulder, almost making her scream. Twisting away, letting the towel and the cellphone fall, reaching for her gun, she stared into the eyes of her attacker.
It was Mano, now transfixed and distracted by the sight of her body.
“Put your tongue back in.” She reached down and picked up the phone. “Listen,” she said. “We’re on our way. Don’t touch anything.”
“We’re going now?” Mano’s puppy-dog eyes almost made her smile.
But then she remembered.
She turned, eyes again drawn to the far side of the room where a high chest of drawers sat in the corner. “What do you see, Mano? What do you see?”
“Only the greatest ass in the known universe,” he said. “How did I get so lucky?”
“There!” Hayden jabbed her finger forward, catching his attention. “What do you see over there?”
“A chest of drawers,” he said a little hesitantly. “A cordless phone. An alarm clock, not my favorite since its set so high I have to get out of bed to switch the damn thing off. A spare mag. Whoops.”
Hayden gave up and climbed over the bed, gesturing at the drawers. “I didn’t leave my underwear hanging over the side of this open drawer. I didn’t leave it bunched up inside.” She scooped every item out onto the carpet.
Kinimaka looked over her shoulder. “Crap.”
“And I certainly didn’t write that fucking letter P on the bottom of the drawer.”
Hayden rose fast, suddenly shivering, suddenly feeling exposed. Quickly she grabbed the towel and sent her eyes roving over every corner of the room, searching every nook and cranny and light fitting and lamp.
“We’re being watched, Mano,” she said. “Now I’m sure. The Pythians are watching us.”
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
Matt Drake arrived in Hsinchu City, Taiwan, with limited Intel and no genuine idea of what to expect. Hayden had briefed them during the journey, their leader trying to prepare them as best she knew how but, as he knew, mission expectations and subsequent reality were often poles apart. Since the Pythians had discovered the supposed lost kingdom of Mu buried somewhere beneath the silty waters of the Taiwan Strait that separated China and Taiwan, close to the place where the Awa Maru had been torpedoed over half a century ago, very little had leaked out.
At first, Drake thought it unlikely that a handful of mercs working alone might locate such a thing, but soon understood it was all down to satellites, GPS and computer systems. Log a coordinate in America somewhere and even a baboon would be able to follow it to the ends of the earth. And a good job, Drake thought. He’d met some of the mercs the Pythians employed.
Next up, Hayden explained how certain members of the Chinese government had been sent reeling, and were now firmly entangled in some kind of power meeting. The Pythians were pulling many strings, and not in a nice Thunderbirds kind of way. Taiwan was highly suspicious but still mostly in the dark. Tensions between the two countries were rising yet again. Hayden had previously reported that she was pulling together a specialist dive team; now Drake and his colleagues were about to meet them after being smuggled into the country.
Hayden’s language expert, David Daccus, had translated several parts of the infamous Niven Tablets, and had sent the pages of text to Dahl’s new tablet computer.
“The Naacal Tablets, or so-called Niven Tablets, originated in the land of Mu and were written by the ancient inhabitants of earth—the Naacal. In essence they are unusual andesite tablets with unrecognizable markings. They were never deciphered until they were lost. It appears now the that Americans did decipher them, and since the markings bear a lot in common with Scandinavian petroglyphs I, with the help of my Icelandic colleague, Olle Akerman, have posited a theory that makes sense of most of the symbols. From this we have confirmed that the likely location of Mu, or whatever this lost kingdom might be called, is indeed close to where the Japanese hospital ship went down.”
Dahl, talking aloud as others docked the boat, paused for a moment. “Olle Akerman,” he repeated. “I wonder how the old dog’s doing?”
Drake knew little as to the whereabouts of Dudley, although it appeared likely the man was also in Asia, furthering the Pythians’ plans. For now, it was up to them to confirm the position of the lost kingdom and report back, at the same time as scanning for any signs of the Pythians. Hayden hoped the dive team would be able to get the job done within a day, thus reporting back before the Chinese made any kind of unalterable decision. This operation had become much more that a treasure hunt or military op now—men as powerful as President Coburn were waiting on an answer to decide how best to strategize a response to whatever the Chinese might do. This mission might put the US, the UK and even the Japanese a step ahead.
With the small boat docked, the team surreptitiously made their way inland, relying on paid locals to deliver them to Hsinchu Fishing Harbor where Hayden’s dive team waited. The journey didn’t take long, less than an hour, and soon Drake was out of the minivan and stretching his legs, wary of the tropical weather and the light rain that swept across the exposed harbor. A strong wind greeted them, sweeping in and out to sea. The harbor itself was a simple construction of wide concrete gangways to which boats were tethered, bobbing in the water, and where cars and vans could easily be parked on top. Tied and sheeted cargos sat everywhere and also piles of tires. Exposed stairs led down to the water’s edge.
A man wearing a flat cap walked up to greet them. “Team’s ready, Mr. Drake,” he said in an American accent.
“Mr. Drake’s my dad,” he said g
ruffly. “I’m Drake. What do we have here?”
“All right, Drake. I’m Kearns. Over here we have Thibodaux, or Thib for short, Gale and Sims. We’ll be your dive team today.”
“Seals?” Dahl looked across the bay.
“Frogmen.”
“Seals then.” Drake laughed. “Why don’t you just say so?”
“Do you tell everyone you’re part of team SPEAR?”
“I do!” Alicia blurted. “I have ID and everything.”
The frogman shook his head wonderingly.
Alicia looked over the side of the gangway. “Hope you got a bigger boat.”
Kearns smiled. “We only have the one, I’m afraid. Surely you’re not all wanting to go down?”
Drake glance over the group. “I guess just three,” he said, knowing Dahl would be up for it and Alicia would skewer him if he didn’t ask. The rest, he decided, either weren’t in the right place for exploration or too inexperienced.
“How deep are we going?”
“Roughly seventy meters. That’s the depth of the Taiwan Strait. Maybe a little less depending on sediment build up.”
“So we’re talking decompression stops?” Drake started to shrug into a scuba diving suit.
“Yeah, but we’re compensating for that.” Kerns was checking the respirators. “Larger volumes of breathing gas.” He tapped two tanks, one reading oxygen the other reading EAN50. “Strap ‘em both on, backplate and wing set up. We’re using rebreathers too. Remember, decompression is your most vital procedure today, your ally. When we come back up the ascent rate ain’t there for fun, it’s mandatory. Got it?”
Drake nodded. Alicia struggled to pull on her suit, complaining hard, but when a Seal innocently offered to help she gave him the dead eye. “You said breathing gas,” she told them. “Don’t you mean air?”
“Nah. We use Heliox since it’s less narcotic. Don’t want any of you landies getting the narcs now, do we?”
“Whatever.” Alicia tugged at the neoprene suit. “Damn! Why can’t they make these things out of denim? I can pull a pair of jeans on in about two seconds flat.”
The Lost Kingdom (Matt Drake Book 10) Page 17
