Eternal Night

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Eternal Night Page 15

by Richard Turner


  “Almost.”

  The noise grew louder and closer.

  Cardinal squeezed Sam’s feet. “Sam, hurry!”

  “I’ve got it!” she cried out, triumphantly.

  As hard as he could, Cardinal yanked Sam out of the hole. She landed beside him, clutching a long, rectangular box.

  “What’s that noise?” Sam asked.

  “Run!” yelled Cardinal, hauling Sam to her feet, and pushing her in front of him.

  Moments later, water rushed past their ankles. What started as a small stream soon turned into a rolling wall of water. Cardinal was hit first, and sent tumbling head over heels. Next, Sam was struck in the back. She cried out in fear, and fell face first into the speeding water. She held onto the box with all of her might.

  “Sam, where are you?” called out Cardinal, trying his best to swim in the raging torrent.

  “Here!” she cried out, as her head broke the surface.

  Cardinal’s hip struck a rock under the water, and grunted in pain. He pushed the discomfort out of his mind. He spotted Sam and dug deep, and swimming toward his partner. Cardinal grabbed her by her collar, holding on tight. Up ahead, the water would soon reach the roof of the cavern. If they didn’t find a way out right away, they’d be trapped and face a horrible death by drowning.

  A faint light shone off to their left.

  With whatever remaining strength he had, Cardinal swam toward the light. His lungs and muscles ached as he fought to get enough oxygen. He saw spots before his eyes, and knew he was about to black out. Suddenly, like a pair of kids shooting out a waterslide, Sam and Cardinal flew out of the cave entrance and landed on top of one another in a muddy puddle next to the Rover. The rain had died down, and now was nothing more than a trickle.

  “Are you two okay?” asked Yuri, shining his light on them.

  Sam looked up and began to laugh, as did Cardinal.

  “What’s so funny?” Yuri asked.

  “I don’t know,” said Sam. “I’m just happy to be alive.”

  “Me too,” said Cardinal, helping Sam to her feet. “I take it that was your light we saw.”

  Yuri nodded. “I heard the flash flood coming through the cave, and stood here as best I could, trying to shine some light inside in case you needed it.”

  Cardinal patted his friend on the back. “Thanks. You saved our lives.”

  “Did you find it?” Yuri asked, eyeing the box in Sam’s hands.

  “Let’s find out,” she said, laying the box on the hood of the Rover.

  Yuri grabbed a knife from his belt and pried off the lid. Cardinal picked up a light and shone it inside. There was something that looked a long sword, wrapped in cloth, strapped to the bottom of the case. Sam reached her hand inside.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said a man with a strong British accent.

  Sam, Yuri, and Cardinal turned their heads. Out of the night walked a man in a rain suit. Standing next to him was a man holding an MP5 submachine gun.

  “Please raise your hands and step away from the box,” said the man with the MP5.

  All three exchanged a puzzled look, before doing what they were told.

  “I’m sorry, but this is the property of Her Majesty’s government,” said the man in the rain suit.

  “How on earth did you know where to look for us?” asked Sam.

  “That was rather easy,” replied the man. “We have informers all over the country. You were spotted digging around here by a goat herder yesterday. Therefore, it was easy enough to deduce where you would be going when you left your hotel a few hours ago.”

  “I take it you’re from the British embassy?’ said Cardinal.

  “That is correct. Don’t worry, I have no intention of shooting you, only in getting back what is rightfully ours. Now please leave the box at the feet of my accomplice, and we’ll be on our way.”

  “Easy come, easy go,” said Cardinal, as he reached for the box.

  From the dark, in rapid succession, two muffled shots were fired. The embassy personnel, hit in the chest with tranquilizer darts, buckled at the knees and collapsed to the ground.

  “What the hell?” said Sam.

  “Don’t move an inch,” threatened a man dressed in black fatigues. His accent had a Russian tinge to it. Behind the man stood four other men, all armed with AK-74s.

  Cardinal’s eyes widened. “Just a second. We know you.”

  The man grinned. “I’m pleased to see that you remembered me.”

  “You’re Madame Wright’s great-grandnephew,” blurted out Sam.

  “My name for that charade was Victor,” said the man.

  “Charade?” asked Cardinal.

  “Please excuse me, but you three have been part of an elaborate scheme concocted by Ms. Maxwell and me to obtain the sword in that box, in exchange for a certain piece of information,” explained Victor.

  “My head’s spinning,” said Sam. “Are you telling me this entire mission was fabricated?”

  Victor shook his head. “No. The sword is real, as were all the events leading up to its disappearance in 1942. Everything after that was a ruse.”

  “Even Madame Wright?”

  “Madame Wright is really an actress I use from time to time to help me with my assignments.”

  “But what about General O’Reilly’s friend in Russia sending her that plate? Surely he isn’t make believe?” said Cardinal.

  “No, he’s real,” said Victor. “He thinks it’s all some kind of elaborate joke he’s playing on an old friend. For a couple of thousand dollars, he was more than willing to go along with whatever I said.”

  “I don’t get it,” said Yuri. “What is so special about this sword?”

  “It once belonged to the Prophet Mohammed, and is a priceless treasure from that era,” explained Victor. “Even back in World War Two, the British saw the sway they could have held with the Saudi government if they were to offer them that sword in exchange for access to their oil.”

  “What do you want with it?” asked Sam.

  “For a substantial reward, I’m going to hand it over to a person who shall remain nameless, but lives in Saudi Arabia. For our transaction to be complete, I have to supply you with information.”

  One of the gunmen stepped forward, picked up the sword case, and hefted it over his shoulder.

  “I’m only going to say this once, so memorize it,” said Victor. “Spiridov Island.”

  “What?” sputtered Cardinal.

  “I got it,” said Yuri. “It’s an island claimed by both the Russian Federation and Kazakhstan. Years ago, the Soviets used to have a bioweapons factory on the island.”

  “Correct,” said Victor. “Now, my work is done. Please don’t try to stop us or to follow us. I have more men hidden in the rocks who could kill you before you knew you were being targeted.”

  “What about the embassy guys?” asked Sam.

  Victor shrugged, turned on his heel, and walked away until they vanished behind a long row of jagged rocks.

  “Well, I’m glad we’re still alive,” said Cardinal. “I just hope this is the end of Grace’s games.”

  Sam grabbed Yuri’s arm and turned him so she could look into his eyes. “Please tell me you’re just in the dark as we are.”

  Yuri crossed himself. “Pretty lady, I give you my word that I’m not part of Ms. Maxwell’s schemes. I’m just as baffled as you.”

  Cardinal walked to the sleeping embassy people and hauled the man in the raincoat up off the wet ground. “I say we drop them inside their car with a note, explaining that we didn’t drug them, and that we were robbed ourselves.”

  “Then what?” asked Sam.

  “We get the hell out of Dodge and fly to a nice, safe country where we can regroup and see what Ryan and the general want us to do next.”

  “I’ll get us a plane,” said Yuri. “How does Cyprus sound to you two?”

  “Sounds great,” replied Sam.

  Cardinal started to drag t
he sleeping man to his vehicle while Sam and Yuri picked up the heavier gunman. They propped them up in the front seats of their Rover, and left them with a note written by Sam.

  “I’ll get our car,” said Yuri.

  Cardinal let out a resigned sigh and looked over at Sam. She was soaking wet and covered in sand. “How are you doing?”

  “Remember when I said the next time I see Grace I’m going to punch her lights out?”

  “Yes.”

  “Since she nearly drowned us today, I think I’m going to break a leg or two as well.”

  Cardinal began to pity Grace.

  27

  The Bay of Bengal

  Grace checked herself out in a mirror before leaving her room. As breakfast was going to be served on the aft deck, she wore white slacks with a black shirt and matching sweater. To finish off her ensemble, she grabbed her favorite pair of dark sunglasses. With practiced sangfroid, Grace strolled out onto the deck. Aside from a white-jacketed server, there was only Dimov sitting at a table, sipping a cup of coffee. She walked over and waited while Dimov got up and pulled out her seat for her.

  “Thank you,” said Grace, sliding onto her chair.

  “How are you this morning, Baroness?” asked Dimov.

  “Fine. And you?”

  “You could say I’m really looking forward to how today goes.”

  The small hairs on the back of Grace’s neck went up. She knew it was going to take all of her considerable training and skills not to blow her cover. “How so, Krasimir?”

  “A number of very important decisions have to be made by Mister Sandesh today. What he decides will have a lasting impact on his entire corporation.”

  “How interesting.”

  The server approached the table. Grace ordered some coffee and a glass of orange juice, along with a fruit cup for her breakfast. Dimov asked for more coffee and a chocolate croissant.

  “More coffee. If I didn’t know better, I’d have to say you need the caffeine to stay awake. Surely, you got some rest last night.”

  “Au contraire, Baroness, I was up all night. There was a security breach reported on Mister Sandesh’s computer. As far as I can tell, nothing of value was taken, but it is disconcerting to think there could be a spy on board this ship.”

  Grace reached over and placed a hand on top of one of Dimov’s. “Certainly, that’s not why you left your note in my room, is it?”

  Dimov recoiled and pulled his hand away. “You’ve made your choice, Baroness. I know you slept with Sandesh last night. All those looks and smiles in my direction weren’t sincere. They were nothing more than a way for you to make Sandesh jealous. I’m not some teenage boy you can play games with.”

  “Don’t be that way. I’m not going to marry him.”

  Dimov placed Grace’s mini flash drive on the table. Her stomach dropped.

  “I believe this is yours,” said Dimov. “What were you looking for on Mister Sandesh’s computer?”

  Grace raised her head. “I’ve never seen that thing before in my life.”

  “I took it from a pocket in your pants. Your lies may work with Sandesh, but they won’t with me. I’ll only ask you one more time: what were you looking for, Baroness?”

  Grace racked her brain, desperate to give an answer that wouldn’t see her thrown overboard into the shark-infested waters. “If you must know, I’m the insanely jealous type who needed to know if there was anyone else in Mister Sandesh’s life that I was unaware of.”

  “There’s no one but you, my love,” said Sandesh, walking out onto the deck. He was dressed like a cricket player, with white pants, shirt, and sweater.

  Dimov stood. “Sir, I have to report that the Baroness broke into your office and searched your computer files while you were sleeping.”

  “I know, I heard your exchange,” said Sandesh.

  “And you’re not upset?” Dimov’s voice grew agitated.

  Sandesh smiled at Grace. “Yes, and no. All she had to do was ask, and I would have told her the truth. She’s the only one in my life right now.”

  “I’m sorry, Varun,” said Grace. “But I had to be sure.”

  “I forgive you.” Sandesh took a seat and ordered a cup of coffee.

  Dimov shook his head. “Sir, I don’t know if you’re aware, but the men we sent to protect the two Americans were arrested by the Indonesian police for drunkenness and property damage to a room in the hotel they were staying in.”

  “What happened to Mitchell and Jackson?” asked Grace.

  “They’ve disappeared,” replied Dimov. “It would seem Indonesia is not a good place to visit.”

  Grace suppressed a grin. They had got away.

  “Pay whatever fine we need to, but get our two men back from Indonesia as quick as you can,” said Sandesh.

  “That’s going be impossible,” replied Dimov.

  “Why?”

  “They’re dead. I was told there was a fight in the holding cell, and when the police arrived to break it up our two men were dead.”

  “How horrible,” said Grace.

  “Sir, because of the attempt on your life and then sudden disappearance of the two Americans, I feel it is necessary to speed up your plans and depart for Site Bravo immediately,” suggested Dimov.

  Site Bravo, thought Grace. She never saw any mention of the place in Sandesh’s files. Could he have another secret computer?

  “Do you really think we need to?” asked Sandesh.

  “Yes, sir, I do, and I suggest that we bring the Baroness with us for her own safety.”

  Sandesh turned to Grace. “Krasimir is correct. You’ll be a lot safer there with us.”

  Grace smiled. “Whatever you say, my love.”

  “Then it’s decided. Get the chopper ready to depart. Grace and I will head belowdecks and pack our bags.”

  “Very good, sir,” said Dimov.

  Grace got up from her chair. Her mind was a whirl of questions, none of which she knew would be answered until they arrived at Site Bravo, wherever that was.

  28

  South Sudan

  Mitchell stared out the window at the countryside as they took the long road north. The wide-open savannah reminded Mitchell of the American southwest, except there weren’t elephants and giraffes back home, roaming wild. He stretched out as best he could in his seat before reaching for the information package Rahma had provided them. It didn’t take long for him to become enraged.

  “You need to read these pamphlets before we reach our destination,” said Mitchell over his shoulder. “I can’t believe that in the past few years more than one hundred thousand elephants were killed for their tusks, and that most of the ivory goes to Asia, where it can fetch in excess of three thousand dollars a kilo. That’s disgusting.”

  “Hand me the pages when you’re done,” said Jackson. “I need to memorize this stuff, in case we’re asked something about the ivory trade.”

  “It also says that the smuggling of illegal ivory is so lucrative that it has displaced drug smuggling in some areas of the globe.”

  “Never underestimate man’s depravity,” said Dawn. “You should read up on human trafficking. Ms. Maxwell and I have worked tirelessly to help stop the exploitation of women, but for every one we save, hundreds of thousands more slip through our fingers. There are an estimated twenty-four million people trapped in modern-day slavery. Five million are under eighteen years of age, and over a million are involved in prostitution. As awful as it is that elephants are being slaughtered at an alarming rate for their tusks, human beings are being exploited in their millions to satisfy man’s greed.”

  “I knew it was bad,” said Mitchell. “I just never knew how bad it was until today.”

  “Most people don’t because it doesn’t involve them. Who cares if a teenage girl from Sri Lanka is sold into slavery to pay off her parents’ debt, when the latest iPhone is coming out next week?”

  Mitchell heard the anger in Dawn’s voice. “You should go into politic
s and stir up the pot.”

  “I’d rather shoot myself in the foot. I’ll happily stay where I am, doing what I can for these women. I heard about your recent mission in Mauritania, and for that, I salute you and your people.”

  “We do what we can to help, as well.”

  “I’m sorry if I got on my pulpit and gave you a sermon, it’s just so hard to believe that slavery still exists in this day and age.”

  “Miss, we have our problems too,” said Artan. “Where we’re going is full of bad men. Many of the people they took during the war are still there and are treated no better than slaves by their masters.”

  “The world is screwed,” said Jackson. “Sometimes I wonder if we’re going to make it another hundred years without blowing ourselves up.”

  “Let’s hope we learn from our mistakes,” said Mitchell.

  Artan carefully applied the brakes.

  “What’s up?” asked Mitchell, feeling the vehicle slow.

  “Up ahead is a police checkpoint,” replied Artan.

  “I don’t see it.”

  “It’s around the bend. If you drive this route enough, you learn where all the checkpoints are.”

  Sure enough, a couple of seconds later, a makeshift barricade appeared, barring the road. Artan drove up slowly and stopped in front of a long piece of wood propped up by a couple of empty jerry cans. He rolled down his window and waved at the two police officers sitting next to the road on a pair of old wooden chairs

  A skinny policeman got up out of his chair, ambled over to the vehicle, and popped his head inside. “Passports, please.”

  Mitchell, Dawn, and Jackson handed their passports to the officer. “I see that you all come from Canada.”

  “Yes,” replied Mitchell.

  “I have a cousin who lives in Toronto. Have you been there?”

  “Many times,” said Dawn. “What part of the city does he live in?”

  The cop shrugged and handed back the passports. The question had been a ploy to put them on the defensive, and it had failed. The cop tapped the side of the vehicle with his hand. “What’s in the back?”

 

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