Tomb of the First Priest: A Lost Origins Novel

by A D Davies

  “So I’m dead?” Jules said.

  “Pretty much.” Horse checked on progress. “About to haul her up. Okay, let’s go.”

  “One thing.” Jules dug his heels in, hindering the brothers’ progress. “I got a grandmother.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Valerio said. “Maybe they could’ve got together. A barbecue. Knitting club or something. Only... what happened?” He feigned deep thought. “Oh yes, someone turned down my kind offer and screwed me over!”

  Jules had seen him manic but never close to this, losing his temper. The way he shook and breathed and how Horse approached him with concern, it appeared no one else was used to this side of him.

  “Need a pill?” Jules said.

  “Get out.”

  Jules caught sight of a watch on one of the guys guarding him and held out once again. “My grandmother. Seriously, man. Just... let me say goodbye.”

  Valerio looked to the brothers, then Horse.

  Horse shrugged. “Your call, boss.”

  “Someone recently told me I was a fair person.” Valerio slipped a chunky smartphone from his pocket, a plus-size version of a Samsung, and unlocked it with a six-digit code. “Be quick. You’re right. I need a pill.”

  Jules accepted the phone, conscious of the guns at his back, and dialed a number from memory. “Thank you.” He waited for the person to answer. It wasn’t his grandmother. If he’d timed this correctly, it should work. When the other end of the line opened, he said, “It’s Jules. I’m on the boat. How long I got?”

  “Now you’ve got in touch... approximately thirty seconds,” Bridget replied. “Dan, it’s a go!”

  Horse reacted first, sweeping Valerio away from the open hatch. Then the brothers ordered Jules onto his knees. Jules obeyed, the phone still in his hand.

  With no sign of danger, Horse unhooked a radio from the belt under his suit jacket. “All units report in, starting alpha four-eight.”

  “Alpha four-eight here,” came the reply. “All clear up h—”

  An explosion cut off the transmission. The floor rose several feet, and every person in this section stumbled and fell as the boat jerked back down. Then the whole vessel shuddered, and Jules had approximately five seconds to live.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Dan had never liked the water. Although the Rangers occasionally needed him to power boats and, even more rarely, scuba dive, his deployments were mostly desert and jungle based, with a smattering of island and coastal missions. The Ranger left the more watery business to the Navy SEALs.

  In fact, it wasn’t until Toby headhunted him from his new training role with a private contractor that he even learned to sail. Since many of the treasures they hunted lay at the bottom of lakes and off the coast of former colonies and civilizations, he’d become an expert at all forms of maneuvering through and over the sea.

  However, the stolen compact hovercraft he currently piloted was easily the most fun, bringing the stolen millionaire’s toy around so they could approach from the harbor’s dark mouth. It acted like a Jet Ski, only smoother, and so simple to handle that Dan even allowed Harpal to take the reins while he mounted the rocket-propelled grenade and fired it at the Lady Mel. Well, not at it as such. But close enough to feel as if it were sinking.

  Dan still didn’t trust Jules, but he did trust Toby and Bridget, and he trusted Charlie’s ability to “slip up” just enough to convince anyone watching for them that they were attempting to sneak into India without detection. That Charlie had hacked the security feed from the new marina and spotted Jules via facial recognition gave them enough certainty to assume that Valerio knew he was here too. Dan’s suggestion that they leave him to it and tail the boat left too much to chance.

  What if they killed Jules?

  So what? He’d left them, sided with Colin Waterston, all because the odds of the asshat leading Jules to the Aradia bangle were better than LORI’s.

  Does that mean he deserves to die?

  It didn’t, of course, and since Valerio had murdered innocent civilians in Ulaanbaatar and apparently wielded enough influence and guile to evade arrest, it was up to Dan and Harpal to deliver that justice. They couldn’t just assassinate him, even though that was Dan’s preferred choice, so Toby demanded he come up with a better plan.

  This was his plan: full-frontal assault.

  Sort of.

  With the quiet engine, the hovercraft had been a spark of genius, which Dan took credit for.

  Not luck—genius.

  He hadn’t wanted to go in at all, but after an honest assessment, and after locating and stealing this craft, he figured it was possible. He informed Toby that he was still prepared to quit this hunt, but if he was honest with himself, he really didn’t want to lose this time.

  He mounted another RPG and let rip, this time rocking the Lady Mel’s rear just as the first gunmen on the deck sought to repel him through automatic gunfire. The shockwave threw them off their feet. Harpal steered left, a temporary retreat to keep them out of range.

  A smaller yacht fifty feet closer to shore was being evacuated, Mumbai’s elite fleeing the attack. People stumbled. Some stopped to help, others ran on regardless. Once on the pier, all rushed for the safety of dry land with more on the quay joining them.

  Gunfire from Valerio’s yacht strafed the water. The shooters were plainly inexperienced as the barrage fell wide. Still, Harpal zigged and zagged until they were a reasonable distance out.

  All the kid had to do now was get off the boat. He had the skill to scale rooftops, vault cars, and overcome trained military operatives, so surely he’d choose a dive into the harbor... if he was still alive.

  Then, with a chug and a roar, the Lady Mel cast off, all seventy-five feet cutting forward and initiating the port engines to lumber away from the pier. They were already prepared to set sail.

  “Where is he?” Harpal shouted.

  More gunfire from the yacht.

  “Can’t see him,” Charlie answered in their earbuds. “Hold on.”

  Four quadcopter drones sped overhead, expensive models with six-foot wingspans they’d picked up in Singapore. Adopting the same angle as Dan’s initial foray, they climbed as they neared the Lady Mel. Spreading out. All equipped with camera phones and a little something extra that Charlie now utilized. The first drone dipped and kamikazed into the yacht’s upper deck.

  It exploded on impact.

  A simple grenade with a pressure trigger strapped to a bottle of cheap vodka for extra flame gave it a psychological edge if not a logistical one.

  It scattered the gunmen temporarily, giving Dan time to assess the Lady Mel’s angle. Was it going to flee to open water or mow them down? In open water, its speed would outstrip the mini hovercraft and would soon be out of range of the drones. But it accelerated like a cow.

  Dan still had two RPGs, though; he could take out something important, perhaps even sink her if he needed to.

  “Damn it, Jules, where are you?”

  “Still no sign,” Charlie reported in. “Hit ’em again?”

  “They regrouping?”

  “Horse is giving orders.”

  “Aim for Horse,” Dan said.

  “I’m not assassinating anyone.”

  “Damn it, you sound like him.”

  A thunderous crackle sounded to starboard, and the hovercraft’s fiberglass hull splintered with a dozen holes. Dan and Harpal hit the deck flat. Dan found the AK-47 procured from one of his longtime contacts in the region and, staying low, aimed it where the machine gun fired from.

  Two Jet Skis sliced through the water, a pair of men in wetsuits on each. Black paint, black suits. They must have been waiting beyond the wall as backup.

  “We really need our own spy satellite,” Dan said.

  “It’s on my list,” Charlie replied.

  Dan had never liked AKs. They were efficient to a point, but they were urban weapons. Primed for close-quarters combat, not naval battles. The men coming toward them were bette
r equipped, but it was impossible to tell exactly what they were packing. If they, like him, possessed explosive projectiles...

  He opened fire in short bursts. If he hit anything, they’d be toast, but he needed range finders.

  The lead Jet Ski veered left, the other right. The moon was bright enough to glimpse the setup: pilot and passenger—both with hefty machine guns, knives, and sidearms, other equipment strapped to the sides, and what appeared to be harpoons.

  The hovercraft still ran, so Dan yelled at Harpal to take them toward the Lady Mel.

  “Are you crazy?” he shouted back.

  “With Valerio in the crossfire, they’ll have to think twice about shooting,” Dan said. “Now do it before they come around!”

  Harpal obeyed while Dan alternated between the targets, keeping them dodging.

  “Charlie, keep one drone over the Mel,” Dan said. “Let’s use the others to knock these guys off our tail.”

  “Will a water landing trigger the bombs?” she asked.

  “Sure. Just slam in close by. It’ll give us room to escape.” He tried to scan the Lady Mel, but lights from the marina projected it mostly in silhouette. “How about Jules?”

  “No sign yet.”

  “Sorry, Bridget,” Dan said, knowing she was listening in. “We tried.”

  While the hovercraft had offered a tactical advantage in their ambush, the Jet Skis growled with superior horsepower and made it count as Dan reloaded the Kalashnikov.

  “More company,” Harpal warned.

  Dan sneaked a glance toward the yacht. Sure enough, its lifeboat launch churned water behind, the nose rising through its acceleration.

  “They’re pinning us in.” Dan loosed off two more bursts of five, forcing the Jet Skis to change direction and their gunners to miss. “Circle ’round the side. I’ll concentrate on the asshole farthest out. Try and punch our way through.”

  Harpal said nothing, clearly understanding the maneuver was a make-or-break play; they’d either carve themselves out or be cut down.

  “Now would be good, Charlie,” Dan said.

  “Five seconds,” she replied.

  Harpal opened the throttle as far as he could, but the motorboat still gained. One Jet Ski arrowed for them at an incoming angle. The second overtook, and although Dan concentrated his fire on that one, their speed now made accuracy all but impossible. The militiamen steadied themselves. The man on the back stood and aimed.

  Dan ceased shooting. It was pointless.

  Five feet from the threatening Jet Ski, a quadcopter slammed into the water and exploded. Only brief flames, of course, but the force of the blast flipped the Jet Ski and threw the assailants off.

  Harpal gave a whoop of delight and steered hard to the right, the move creating a wake that swelled and spread. The other Jet Ski slowed as it hopped the waves, while the men in the water struggled to return to their vehicle, which was hopefully too damaged by the grenade to pursue.

  “Hold it straight!” Dan ordered. “Slow it a bit.”

  “I got two more drones,” Charlie said. “One over the Lady Mel, but you have to choose which one goes boom.”

  While the motor launch was faster, the Jet Ski was more maneuverable. “The Jet Ski. Take it now.”

  In a repeat of her attack moments earlier, Charlie dived the quadcopter drone into the sea just feet from her target. But this time, nothing happened except a splash that caused a momentary diversion for the pilot.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I... I don’t know what happened.”

  Dan bit back several swear words and prepped the RPG launcher. Two grenades left. “Hit the surface at the wrong angle. Trigger didn’t ignite.”

  “I’ll bring the other round.”

  “No time.”

  “I’m going to try.”

  Their hovercraft aimed for the harbor mouth. Commercial crafts were still using the entrance; trawlers, ferries, and now police-branded boats joined the party.

  Dan mounted the RPG launcher on his shoulder and aimed directly at the Jet Ski, but that would do nothing except miss and spray them with saltwater. So he drew down ten feet ahead, visualized this driver’s favored evasion tactic, which was to veer away from his quarry, meaning to the right.

  He fired.

  The projectile burst out, contrail tracking its progress. Sure enough, the target eased to the right, plainly hoping to skip the worst. But Dan had accounted for that. The explosive impacted almost square on, blowing the back of the Jet Ski apart and throwing the two men high into the air.

  Ignoring another adrenaline-junkie cry of delight from Harpal, Dan reloaded and drew down on the approaching motorboat. “Hold her straight.”

  In truth, Jules had no clue what he was doing. He wasn’t adept on water. Traveling over solid ground, he could plan most feats in an instant. Even up in the sky, tall buildings, medium ones, small ones, he could see distance, feel the wind, knew his weight and size, all of which allowed him to calculate the effect of gravity on his leaps and falls. Water created too many variables, and he couldn’t keep up.

  The other thing he gauged correctly was human intent. In this case, that of Toby and the rest of his institute. Valerio revealed they were in town, even the time they landed. Assuming they brought everything with them they needed, Jules worked out the time it would take to find him (it would be fast since Charlie and Harpal were both smarter than average), then come up with a plan and execute it.

  No way did he predict, however, just how fine he’d cut it.

  The explosions were enough to draw Horse from his immediate position, which left Jules with the simple work of overcoming the Ravi brothers and riding his luck all the way to snagging the surfer’s bag containing the artifacts while Horse was distracted. It was close, but his escape into the lifeboat launch was aided by Dan’s assault and something that exploded on the top deck.

  The knife he’d swiped from one brother cut the rope easily, and tuxedoed up like James Bond, he was away.

  Then, just as he thought he was free and clear, sticking rigidly to the flat trail left by the hovercraft thing, Dan went and aimed a rocket launcher at him.

  “Got coppers incoming,” Harpal said.

  Dan held steady on the approaching boat. “Can you lose them?”

  “Just shake that final bogey and I’ll try.”

  “Guys, I’m catching up,” Charlie said.

  Dan could just make out the tiny blob pursuing the Lady Mel’s launch, gaining on them. “Okay, but I’m gonna try and take him myself first.”

  He leveled the RPG launcher and sighted through the notches, an old-fashioned targeting device; he’d trained with one, but never like this. The boat, though, was coming at them in a straight line. A fairly easy target, even thumping over the surface like this.

  “Umm, ten seconds,” Harpal said.

  It was big, too, not just straight. And there was no gunfire.

  “Charlie, how close are you?” Dan asked.

  “Not close enough,” Charlie answered. “It’s too fast now you’re going straight.”

  “Camera?”

  “Can’t get an angle.”

  “Five seconds,” Harpal said. “Shoot him or wait?”

  “Chill.” Dan squinted at the motorboat, pressure on the trigger. “I got this.”

  Jules kept on course, understanding now that he must look like a hostile to Dan and Harpal. A fast craft aimed right at them, emerging from the same direction as the Lady Mel.

  He had one chance: he needed to prove he was here, not swimming away or held hostage.

  So he steered with one hand while rummaging in the wet bag with his other, weaving minutely, enough to maintain his speed, but not to capsize that damn thing.

  Still.

  There was no way of knowing when Dan would fire the rocket.

  Jules finally grabbed what he was looking for. He lifted the Aradia bangle out first, its green light bright in the darkness, followed by the Ruby Rock.

  Visible throu
gh the RPG launcher’s sight, a green light shone from the approaching vessel, a red glow piercing beside that one.

  Charlie said, “Oh my God! Wait! It’s him! He’s driving the boat. We got Jules. And he’s got the bangles!”

  Dan whipped the tube aside, recognizing she was right.

  Damn, he almost blew Jules away.

  Ah well. No harm, no foul.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  After Jules held the bangles aloft and performed the trick only he could do, Dan lowered the weapon and began waving him frantically aside. Then Jules saw why.

  Harpal took them on a hard right. The launch wasn’t as maneuverable as the hovercraft, and the sharp turn sprayed saltwater over the controls. No problem; it was designed for this.

  In Jules’s hand, the Ruby Rock bangle snapped and crackled as never before. The energy expanded and consumed his hand, snaking around him like a glove. When more water splashed him, the light jumped and sparked. He dropped it in the bag, recalling Amir Fong’s assessment.

  We found it reacts badly to liquids. Mostly water. But especially to salted water. The less pure, the more the bangle repels it.

  Police now joined the fray. Three speedboats pursued Dan and Harpal while Valerio’s yacht grumbled and sped up, turning faster than anything that size had a right to, water churning in a huge wake.

  Jules pulled level with Dan and Harpal, bringing himself to the attention of the cops. All were heading for shore.

  “Turn back!” Jules yelled. “We can get out to sea.”

  Bullhorns blared from the cops’ boats, too thickly accented and distorted to understand, although it was certainly English.

  Dan called, “Negative. We got exfil backup on land.”

  “They’ll have covered that. They got more eyes than you know.”

  The boat buffeted harder.

  “Come on!” Jules shouted. “Trust me!”

  “No!” Dan gestured violently toward the point where Jules had accessed the private marina. “That way!”