by A D Davies
And Jules walked straight through.
This form of burglary wasn’t common for Jules. He was never comfortable in situations where he might have to justify his presence or hold a conversation with a stranger. After all, he could only absorb so much trivia before he died of boredom. It was far easier to bribe someone for access or to scale a building and cut a hole in a window. Even the scuba gear would be more comfortable than this. Possibly easier too.
A glaring security lapse invited would-be thieves aboard the Lady Mel via her lifeboat access point. The launch was too big to keep it inside the hull, but the law required yachts of this size to provide something suitable to evacuate all passengers, even when docked. For tonight, that meant a larger than usual escape vessel bobbed in the water by the aft exit. Less of an eyesore and simple to access in case of a major breach.
The undercover route was less risky if caught, though.
Jules breezed through the partiers. After tipping the champagne overboard, another waiter accepted the empty glass, and Jules wound inside to a saloon with an oval bar. All was lit in light blue with sparkling electric tea lights acting as stars or bioluminescent creatures swimming underwater. A couple dozen people milled around politely, not a crush like you would endure in a New York bar.
And everything was free.
He ordered a mango juice with a soda top and explored further: the pool deck above was the most popular, where Bhangra music played at a subtle volume; a reception room with a circular seating pattern found several of the more inebriated invitees lounging and chatting in slurred tones; the aft platform served nibbles of crayfish, lobster, veal, and a whole host of vegetarian options. From the plans he’d pulled off the internet for this particular model of yacht, the three locked doors he encountered throughout led to the owner’s private quarters, the bridge, and the engine room.
Any safe would likely be in the private quarters. Valerio was probably down there, waiting for the party to get going before appearing, and Sanjeev Kaur too, since he should have been up here; one was the host, the other the guest of honor—even though it was his boat. They had to appear soon.
That door, though, was located down a flight of five stairs, an access point he did not attempt as the hotel-style lock flashed red. Electronic. Requiring a fingerprint, not a card.
On the plus side, it was visible from the reception room full of drunks. On the minus side, Jules had to pretend to be drunk. Another minus was that he couldn’t act worth a damn, beyond the basics of social interaction. Anything more than looking stern or confident or interested or—at a push—amused, and he floundered. Those expressions got him through pretty much every situation, but faking physical inebriation was a new act he hadn’t practiced.
He settled for being a sleepy drunk, silent, smiling inanely at any comment directed his way. Two Indian men with familial similarities in their faces—brothers, he expected—kept pawing, vying for his attention, trying to get him to look at some source of hilarity on their phones.
The thirty minutes it took for that door to open were the longest he’d lived through in many years.
It was Valerio who stepped out first, then Sanjeev, both done up to the nines in tuxedoes instantly recognizable as being many times more expensive than Jules’s despite the fortune he spent this morning. Two knots of Indian muscle in suits greeted them, their jackets straining against large handguns in shoulder holsters, brows low and eyes focused everywhere but on the high-flying guests lest they creep out a billionaire and give rise to a party-spoiling tantrum.
They slipped out to the left to access the main deck.
No Horse.
Was he left protecting the bangles?
It was as if Valerio was—
“So you did think you could sneak on board my yacht! I owe Horse fifty dollars.”
Jules snapped his head around to find Valerio with the two mountains in suits, hands clasped before them. They circled behind him.
He said nothing. Just spent a second assessing his options, his mind racing at his miscalculation, now switched to figuring out the prospective assailants’ weak spots. Taking Valerio hostage looked the most viable option, but—
“Don’t worry, Jules, we’re not going to harm you.” Valerio waved away such silly notions. “Come on, enjoy the party.”
Jules hesitated. Watched for any sign the monstrous duo might attack. They kept still. But then, so did lions before pouncing.
With the pair in his peripheral vision, Jules straightened his jacket as he stood, ostensibly watching Valerio too but maintaining his concentration on the real threats.
As if reading his mind, Valerio said, “Don’t mind them. They’re more for show anyway.” He stage-whispered, “Horse would snap them in two in about five seconds. I reckon you’d probably take ten, but that flippy-chocky-socky stuff you do would win out in the end. Unless they shot you first.” Then, back to normal, he said, “Yeah, they’d probably shoot you.” He waited for some reaction. A laugh? Was that supposed to be a joke? When Jules gave no response, Valerio stood aside. “Assuming you’re not genuinely off your face on booze... shall we?”
Jules spotted escape routes at every angle even as he stepped ahead of Valerio into another passage. This led through the bar. His new bodyguards maintained a distance of only a step and a grab away, sufficient for a private conversation, but if Jules pulled a knife or gun, they’d be on him in a flash.
“I’m not entirely sure what you’re doing here,” Valerio said. “You really think I’d have the bangles with me? In Mumbai?”
“It fits with your actions so far.” Jules eyed two fire exits and the two regular egress points. “Your personality type leaves nothing like that to chance. You’d assign your best people to guarantee their safety. But, same time, you can’t let the responsibility go entirely. You showing up in Ulaanbaatar proves that. Your attack would’ve been more effective if you’d simply blasted through the museum and located it in the carnage. But, see, as soon LORI fought back, you made yourself known. You had to control the situation. You.”
Valerio applauded as they left the bar and ascended to the first deck. “I love your brain, sir, I absolutely love it! You really are nearly as clever as me.”
On the stern, the cocktail drinkers and smokers tipped their heads toward Valerio but did not approach with handshakes or business cards; a wary distance maintained. He stopped at the gunwale and leaned on the barrier, staring down at the water.
“I know that sounds conceited, but I first showed signs of genius aged six. I hatched a plan, along with my eight-year-old sister, to steal candy. A simple distraction tactic, but it worked. When my parents noticed the candy missing, they only found the evidence I planted on my dear sis and assumed her guilty. At first. One thing I didn’t factor into my deception: she was their favorite, and they took her word over mine.”
He stepped back, thrust his hands in his pockets, and faced Jules.
“So, no, I don’t always get it right, but I don’t let unseeable variables interfere with how I do things. I issued your photo to every security point, and my CCTV does facial recognition approaching the efficiency of the US government. We employ the same contractor. So in other words, you’re here because I want you here. And your distraction tactics won’t work.”
“There’s no distraction,” Jules said. “I’m alone. Sent the limy asshole on a ten-hour round-trip of a snipe hunt. I’m here to get the lay of place, figure out a way in, get the bangles, and leave. Nothin’ else.”
“You don’t care about their provenance? What they do? Why Saint Thomas fought so hard to keep them only in the hands of people he trusted?”
“No. I just want what’s mine.”
“And you still think I’d keep them here?”
“You’ve stashed ’em in the engine room with Horse.” Jules’s turn to gaze out at the harbor. This wasn’t the only party, of course, but it was certainly the biggest, the most prestigious. “By the motor launch in case you need to ma
ke your getaway. Guessing there’s more folks out there with their lights off, waiting to hold off any law or... other parties who want the bangles.”
“Oh-ho-ho!” Valerio spread his arms as he laughed. “My friend, you truly are my equal in the brains department. I mean, almost. You did walk in here expecting me to fall for your silly trick—”
“There’s no trick,” Jules said. “I get caught, I get away. Unless they’re gonna pop me in front of your people here, I can be in that water and away before they even get the barrels free. What’re they carrying? MP-443s? Makarovs?”
“Jules, Jules, Jules. This ruse is beneath you.” Valerio glanced at two tall balding men who were approaching. Both diverted away to keep his conversation private. “Your little friends landed exactly...” He checked his watch. “Ninety-six minutes ago.”
“Friends?” Shock stabbed through Jules’s stomach, spread to his chest, and continued out through his shoulders. “No. I told them to stay away.”
Valerio placed an arm around Jules’s shoulders, mouth close to his ear. “And right now, they are being tracked. They’re coming this way, to me. Or to you.”
“No...”
“You wanted to steal my last chance at life, Jules. All because of your selfish, stupid obsession. And you’d hand over the Ruby Rock bangle, or ‘Mary bangle,’ so my old friend Alfonse can salve his wounded soul. Sorry, Jules, but you will not kill me in exchange for money.” Valerio twitched his head, and the large men advanced, hands in their jackets. “And don’t think of jumping overboard. They’ll plug you before you hit the water. Regardless of how many guests leave with PTSD instead of a gift bag.”
Jules assessed that Valerio’s calculation was accurate. Possible at any rate. He nodded.
Then he swung Valerio around into the pair, and they stumbled, delaying their ability to draw on him.
Gambling that no one wanted a scene, he dashed sideways toward the bar again, meeting the brothers he encountered earlier, the drunk pair who’d wanted him to watch a video.
No longer drunk, no longer swaying, but rock steady.
The first touched a baton to Jules’s leg, and a jolt shot through him. Electrocuted. A second jolt knocked him from his feet.
His body convulsed.
Blackness descended.
And he could fight no more.
Chapter Thirty-One
When Valerio cleared the yacht, thus ending the party early, Sanjeev Kaur threatened to withdraw cooperation if Valerio embarrassed him further. It was a lame threat. Valerio was now paying the Ladoh militia personally via an installment plan that would keep them in line and following orders. His orders, not Kaur’s. The Ravi brothers, the militia leader’s nominated deputies on this mission, certainly showed no objection, proving all Valerio needed was an introduction. His money did the rest.
After the final people were safely ensconced in one of the larger bars on the marina—and Valerio’s personal American Express card had been swiped to cover the drink bill—he was more concerned about his own betrayal.
By Jules.
Sure, the lad never declared any sort of loyalty to Valerio’s cause, but he thought there’d been a spark of interest. Like they bonded back in Ulaanbaatar. Jules had certainly been hesitant when LORI intervened, and now he’d dumped Colin Waterston too.
Belowdecks, Jules attained prisoner status; he was carted to the staging area, namely the exit hatch beside the engine room, where Horse and the militiamen prepped the yacht for their trip. A journey north up the coast.
“Where exactly?” Sanjeev demanded to know.
“Not telling,” Valerio said. “And you can’t make me.”
It didn’t matter whether Sanjeev knew, but Valerio was now in a mood to hold back all information until absolutely necessary. He didn’t like acting this way, but even though they would soon be circling back around the militia-controlled jungle, it was still nine thousand square miles, an area they would need years to cover with LiDAR. But with the Thomas manuscript now almost fully translated, they had narrowed it down to around a thousand, and once the Hindi etymology expert he hired delivered the obscure sections that Tina Trussot had been unable decode on the plane to Mongolia, they would zero in on the location.
Watched over by the Ravi brothers, Jules lay on a stretcher, sleeping off the effects of a massive electrical shock to his nervous system.
Such potential. Who was this kid?
A shame he was so damaged, so self-limiting. The boy—sorry, man, lad, gentleman, whatever—could achieve so much given some coaching, some inspiration, some... balls. And Valerio still did not fully understand what made Jules so special in relation to the jewelry, only that he was glad Jules had sought them out. Otherwise, they would have had to go looking for him.
That he came here as expected proved he was only almost as smart as Valerio.
While Jules lay unconscious, they tried setting both bangles in his palm, but neither glowed any more than when Valerio or Horse handled them, the conclusion being that he couldn’t activate the stones unless awake. For this reason, Horse’s first plan—to cut off Jules’s arm, shoot him in the head, and drop him in the bay—wasn’t feasible. Horse suggested it must be tied to brainwaves as much as his genetic signature, genes being their first theory.
No time for experiments now. Perhaps later...
“Are they secure?” Valerio asked.
Horse held up a waxed surfer’s bag, the manuscript and both bangles sealed inside. “Watertight, boss. Just gotta get the launch secured to the Lady Mel, and we can set sail. Five minutes till we’re gone.”
Valerio placed his hands in his pocket and sighed. He looked down on Jules, then turned his attention to the marina outside.
The dark water bobbed four feet below the open hatch, the calm surface reflecting moonlight and distorting the city’s illumination into ripples as a light wind picked up.
“Think it’ll work?” he said.
“Has to,” Horse replied. “Boss.”
Valerio laid one hand on Horse’s shoulder. “Thank you.”
“Thank me if it works.”
“No, I mean... thank you. For sticking around. I know you could probably have made more money taking other jobs, individual assignments instead of staying on retainer.”
Horse turned his body to face Valerio. “Boss, if you want a financial justification, I can tell you, one of these days, you’re gonna hit pay dirt with these excursions. I know we’re looking for a specific place, but... it’s been hidden for thousands of years. If it’d been found, even by thieves, we’d have heard rumors. But we haven’t. When we find this tomb, we’ll be the first people in there since Saint Thomas. It’ll be worth billions. And you being the generous type... I figured you’d share.”
Valerio swallowed what felt like a sad pill but couldn’t help smiling. “I don’t believe that’s the only reason.”
“No.” Horse held his head low, then raised it to meet Valerio’s gaze. “I believe in this, in what we’re doing. Everything we’ve seen. We can do a lot of good with it. Makes all the bad stuff I’ve done worthwhile.”
“If it’s real.”
“Yeah, if it’s real. That’s a bit of a gamble.”
“There’s more though.” Valerio positioned both hands on Horse’s shoulders this time. “Don’t be shy. You can tell me.”
Horse chuckled. A glance at the Ravi brothers. Back to Valerio. “I worked for some evil people in my time. I worked two branches of advanced military—SASR in Oz, Navy SEALs in the States. Plus a black-ops CIA program that didn’t even have a name. Done much worse stuff than anything while working for you. It’s been stable here. And you ain’t bad. You’re fair.”
Valerio swelled with pride. Sadness, happiness. Like a movie star being honored for a lifetime achievement award. He never thought of himself as a good person before, just a person. A desperate one sometimes, one willing to commit atrocious acts to arrive at the right place.
So not a good person, but
perhaps a courageous one. A person willing to risk it all to achieve greatness.
“Thank you, my friend,” Valerio said. “If we do make such a discovery, maybe you can retire. And you can stop calling me ‘boss.’”
“Sure. We’ll hang out.”
“Are you going to kiss?” Jules asked, levering himself up to a sitting position, alerting the Ravi brothers who held their Russian hand cannons on him. He ignored them. “If you’re gonna kiss, it’s cool and all. Twenty-first century, guys.”
Horse shrugged off Valerio’s arms, disappointing Valerio a tad. No, he wasn’t going to kiss the big lug, but a hug might not have been out of the question.
Valerio spun, swung a kick, which Jules dodged, and Valerio slipped, landing hard on his butt. He yelled, “Get this... person... out of my sight!”
Jules was wrenched up by his armpits and dragged toward the hatch. While he hadn’t quite gotten his bearings yet, he was aware they were still on the yacht. The open hatch revealed techs working on securing the Lady Mel’s launch, meaning they were probably hitting open ocean soon, a less visible means of accessing the land where the tomb had lain hidden for millennia.
So Valerio already knew the location. Or was close.
And Jules was still alive because they needed something. Not a hostage. Perhaps they needed him to make the bangles light up, a feat he put down to genetics. Or did someone else put it down to that? It hinted at a half-remembered dream.
Maybe the bangles, once they formed the key they needed, would open whatever door barred the way, but clearly Valerio didn’t want to take a chance on a hitherto-unseen factor.
As he was being carted away, Jules said, “When you’ve done with me, what then?”
Valerio picked himself up off the floor, smoothing his hair and straightening his tux jacket. “After? I honestly haven’t decided yet. But if you cause me any problems, I’ll start cutting bits of you off and give the sharks a feast along the way.”
Horse stood behind him. “Any more questions?”
