The Atlantis Trilogy Box Set- The Complete Series

by A. G. Riddle

  He kissed her on the mouth, and it was like the kiss in Gibraltar. She seemed to feel the rage draining out of him, as if the kiss were releasing some pressure valve that had been about to blow.

  When they separated, he stared at her, the softness back in his eyes.

  “And one more thing: I will follow your orders.”

  “Actually… I think maybe you should give the orders for a while. I’m just kind of… zooming out here, getting a little perspective, remembering some of the things I just said.” David shook his head. “Not the sanest stuff that’s ever come out of my mouth or entirely rational for that matter. And you seem to know what’s going on. You do the thinking, I’ll do the shooting.”

  “I can do that.”

  David stood and glanced around the stateroom. “Murder mystery cruise and a countdown to a global apocalypse. Hell of a second date.”

  “You’re certainly not boring.”

  “Just trying to keep you interested. Now where do you want to start: with the plague or Martin’s murderer?”

  “I think—”

  The boat suddenly lost speed. Kate felt as though it was coming to a stop in the water. “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know.” David put his arm around her and guided her across the room. He pointed at the hallway that led to a short flight of stairs and at the bottom, an elaborate master bathroom. He handed her a gun. “Stay in there. Lock the door. I—”

  She kissed him again. “Be careful. That’s your first order.”

  60

  Immari Advance Fleet Alpha

  Near Tangier, Morocco

  Dorian strode onto the ship’s bridge. The men turned quickly and stood rigidly. “Attention on deck!”

  “You have a message for me,” Dorian said to the captain.

  The captain held out a slip of paper, and Dorian unfolded it.

  I have Warner.

  She has code.

  Request exfil.

  She is well guarded.

  On yacht near Ceuta.

  Destination unknown.

  Be ready.

  Dorian considered his options. If those damn British hadn’t mined the straits, his fleet could reach them. The Berber control of Ceuta and northern Morocco also further limited his options.

  “We’ve sent ships from Fuengirola after them,” the captain said.

  “Estimated intercept time?” Dorian asked.

  “Unknown.”

  “What do you mean, unknown?”

  “They’re moving at almost thirty knots. We don’t have a ship fast enough to catch them.”

  Dorian shook his head.

  “But if they slow down or stop, we’ll be on them. Or—if they enter port somewhere, we can corner them.”

  “Notify our source. And get me a map of Ceuta’s firing radius. I need to know how to fly around their guns.”

  61

  Somewhere off the coast of Ceuta

  Mediterranean Sea

  David waited at the door to his and Kate’s stateroom, listening, hoping for any sound, any clues as to what was happening on the ship. The engines had completely stopped, and the one-hundred-thirty-foot yacht was cruising almost silently now. David glanced out the floor-to-ceiling glass windows that led out to their balcony.

  He backed away from the door. If whoever had killed Martin was taking the boat, they would be set up outside the master stateroom, waiting for him.

  He exited onto the balcony. There were no other boats in sight. Even the lights from Ceuta had faded, leaving only the moon to light the boat.

  David inched forward on the balcony and peered into the saloon—the living space beyond the bedroom. Empty.

  Tiny recessed lights twinkled, illuminating the lavish living and dining accommodations.

  The main deck was devoted entirely to the master stateroom and living and dining spaces. The lower deck below them housed the crew quarters and guest rooms.

  Assuming he lived through the next few minutes, he would have to move Kate belowdecks, to a room with no balcony and fewer windows. It would be easier to defend her there. However, he could also fold the balcony off the master into the ship, closing off the side entrance to the master stateroom. Which would add better protection? He’d have to sort it out later.

  At that moment, he heard a footstep on the deck above: the upper deck. It housed the ship’s cockpit, a spacious guest stateroom, as well as indoor and outdoor lounging space.

  David exited the stateroom quickly and rushed up the stairs, his gun leading the way.

  The upper saloon was empty.

  He heard voices in the cockpit. David stepped quietly toward it.

  Dr. Janus stood there, the same impassive look on his face, no hint of concern at the sight of David and his gun. David panned around the room. Kamau and Shaw stood on the port side, arguing. They turned toward him and stared.

  “David—” Kamau began.

  David’s mind raced. Chang. “Where’s Chang?”

  “We haven’t seen him—”

  David darted out of the cockpit, back through the upper saloon. He was about to round the stairs when the door to the saloon’s bathroom opened. Chang glided out, seemingly talking to himself.

  David wheeled around, still holding his sidearm straight out, and closed the distance between them.

  Chang almost collapsed back into the bathroom. He held his hands up, shaking. “I… I’m sorry, I didn’t know whether to flush… then I felt the boat stop… I…”

  Kamau, Shaw, and Janus walked into the saloon. The African spoke first. “We’re out of gas.”

  David let his gun fall to his side, but he still gripped it tightly. “That’s impossible. We had over half a tank when we left the harbor in Ceuta.”

  “True,” Kamau said. “But there’s a hole in the fuel line. We’ve been leaking.”

  David stared at the four men. One of them had killed Martin, and now he had cut the fuel line. He wanted the boat stranded. For what? An extraction?

  Shaw spoke up. “There could be other damage. There are bullet holes in the engine room.”

  Kamau nodded slightly, confirming that the damage was there.

  Bullet holes, David thought. Could the boat have taken fire from soldiers on the plague barge or during the firefight at Ceuta? It was possible…

  A plan formed in David’s mind. He would need to fix the fuel leak before they could go on, but the size of the leak—whether it had been cut or simply severed by a bullet—might reveal the killer. “Where were each of you just now?”

  “I was in the galley, preparing a meal,” Janus said.

  “I was in the cockpit,” Kamau said. “I hadn’t thought to check the fuel, but when I saw our status, I killed the engines.”

  “I was…” Chang began. “…using the restroom.”

  Shaw cleared his throat and straightened his back. “I was actually about to knock on your door and demand you release Dr. Warner to me. A demand I now press, especially in light of our circumstances—”

  David had hoped one of the scientists had seen Kamau, had hoped he had an alibi. David desperately wanted to rule him out. His primary suspects were Shaw and Chang—in that order.

  “I want your guns.”

  “I… don’t have a gun—”

  “I’m not talking to you, Dr. Chang.” David stared at Kamau and Shaw. Neither made a move.

  “David, there are pirates on the Mediterranean,” Kamau said. “We need to be armed—”

  “It’s an order.”

  Kamau nodded, glanced at Shaw, then extended his pistol, butt outward.

  “Well, you can’t order me, and I won’t relinquish my—”

  “Hand me your gun, or I’ll shoot you right here, Shaw. Try me.” David took another step closer to him, lifting his pistol to chest height.

  Shaw cursed and muttered but handed over his gun. He made to leave the saloon.

  “You stay here, all of you.” He nodded to Kamau. “Bring me my sniper rifle and ou
r automatic rifles.”

  David knew that neither Kamau nor Shaw needed a gun to kill him or Kate, but ensuring they had to do it hand-to-hand gave David a bit more comfort. If it came down to fighting hand-to-hand with either man, he liked his chances.

  Kate strained to hear what was going on up above. She heard footsteps occasionally, but no gunfire. That was a good sign. She considered leaving the bathroom long enough to retrieve the sat phone and call Continuity. She wanted to find out how much time she had, what the status was. She heard the outer door—the door to the stateroom—click open.

  She started to call out for David, but she hesitated. Someone was running around the room, ransacking it.

  A knock came from the bathroom door.

  “Who—”

  “It’s David.”

  She opened it. Relief washed over her. “What’s happened?”

  “We’re losing gas.”

  “Losing—”

  “Either someone sabotaged the ship or one of the bullets nicked the fuel line. I’m thinking sabotage.” He led her into the room. He had turned it upside down.

  “What were you looking for?”

  “A safe.” He pointed to a wall safe with a combination. It was closed, but a smaller, portable safe—what might have held a large necklace—stood open. Several handguns and magazines from rifles lay inside. David closed it and handed Kate the key. “You and I have guns now. Only us. We need to decide what to do from here. Stay focused. One of them is not who he claims to be. Their next actions could reveal who.”

  62

  Somewhere off the coast of Ceuta

  Mediterranean Sea

  David led Kate up the stairs to the upper deck where the four men were waiting. Kamau and Shaw stood and paced impatiently; Chang and Janus sat, staring out the boat’s windows like nothing was amiss.

  David focused on Kamau. “How much fuel do we have left?”

  “Less than a quarter of total capacity.”

  “Range?”

  “Depends on our speed—”

  “Can we make it to the coast?”

  Kamau wavered. That made David nervous. “Assuming we fix the leak, I think so, but there is no guarantee that we will find fuel there.”

  “We’re sitting ducks out here,” Shaw said. “This luxury liner is the juiciest bait on the Mediterranean. Pirates will be on us within hours, certainly by sunrise.”

  David wanted to rebut the argument, but… it was true. In the post-plague world, for those who had survived the initial outbreak and avoided the Immari or the Orchid Districts, the seas were safer than the shore. A lot of people were waiting the plague out on boats scattered across the Mediterranean. Survivors could fish and catch rainwater—a lot of it on a boat this big. The one-hundred-thirty-foot-long motor yacht was irresistible bait, and it would draw pirates.

  When David didn’t respond, Shaw continued. “Kate, I need to use your sat phone. I’ll have my government airlift us out of here within hours. You know we’re racing the clock here. We’ll be in London soon. You can continue your research there and hopefully save some lives.”

  Chang and Janus both stood. “We’d like to join you—”

  “Nobody’s going anywhere,” David said.

  “We’ve been doing our own research,” Chang said.

  “What sort of research?” Kate asked.

  “Research on a cure,” Janus said. “We were close to a permanent cure, or at the very least, an Orchid alternative. We have worked in secret, withholding our findings from the Immari.”

  “The treatment you gave Martin,” Kate said.

  “Yes,” Chang said. “That was our latest prototype. It’s not one-hundred-percent effective, but it was worth a shot.”

  Kate whispered in David’s ear. “Can I speak with you?”

  Below deck, Kate turned to David and said flatly, “You know Shaw is right.”

  David stared out the window. Shaw’s option was their best. David couldn’t take Kate back to Ceuta. Everyone would know who she was. The brunette look wouldn’t fool anyone. If word got out that she was in Ceuta, the entire world would storm the base.

  He wondered what he would do in London. He was likely a wanted fugitive, but he could probably sort that out.

  But if Shaw had killed Martin, if he had cut the fuel line to set this up, David would be delivering Kate to him.

  “Let me think about it,” David said, still not looking at Kate.

  “David, what’s there to think about? Come with us.”

  “Just… give me a few hours, Kate. Let us fix the boat.”

  David thought Kate was going to press him, but she eyed him for a moment, then nodded. “While you do that, I want to work with Chang and Janus. I want to show them Martin’s notes. They’re written in a code I haven’t been able to break.”

  David had to smile. In Jakarta, Martin had sent him a coded message that had set the entire chain of events of the past few months in motion. The old man had been trying to warn David, but he and his team hadn’t unraveled the message fast enough. “Martin did love his codes.” David considered the implications. It certainly helped his cause: Kate could be making progress on a cure while he stewed on what to do.

  “Just make sure they don’t make any phone calls,” he said.

  Kate had spent the last hour discussing Martin’s notes with Doctors Chang and Janus. Both men had listened intently, occasionally raising their hands and asking a question.

  When Kate finished, they presented their own research, beginning with a bit of their personal backgrounds. Both men stood when they presented to the group.

  Kate thought that Dr. Chang’s story was very much like Martin’s. Shen Chang was sixty-one and had joined Immari Research right out of medical school. He had been enamored with the research, with the possibilities, but had soon learned the truth about the Immari. He had spent his career trying to prevent the Immari’s worst atrocities, but ultimately, like Martin, he was trapped and had failed.

  “There’s something I need to tell you, Dr. Warner. And I will completely understand if you no longer wish to work with me. I was the chief scientist at the Qino Immari facility. I was on site the day they put you in the Bell room.”

  A long silence passed and finally Kate said, “We’re working on the same side now. Let’s focus on the work at hand, on finding the cure.”

  “I’d like that very much. There is one other thing. You look… very familiar to me. I wonder if we’ve met.”

  Kate studied his face. “I… don’t think so.”

  “Ah, well, my memory isn’t what it used to be, Dr. Warner.”

  “Call me Kate. Both of you.”

  When Chang finished, Janus shared his story. Dr. Arthur Janus was an evolutionary biologist and virologist with an interest in viral evolution—the study of how viruses mutate and adapt.

  “I was on assignment for the World Health Organization in Algiers when the plague hit,” Janus said. “I barely got out. I made my way to Ceuta. The Immari sorted me there, and I was placed on the plague barge, assigned to be Dr. Chang’s assistant.”

  Dr. Chang laughed. “But I’m the one who has done the assisting since then. Dr. Janus is the genius on our team. He’s responsible for the breakthroughs.”

  Each man tried to deflect the credit.

  After that, they described their research and their approach. Kate was blown away. The men had tackled the plague from another angle—looking for similarities to past outbreaks and trying to find someone with natural disease resistance who might have a genetic anomaly that provided immunity to the plague.

  Janus made some tea and handed it out, and now they sat, sipping their tea and talking in turn. After each person spoke, they paused to consider the others’ assertions.

  Disagreements were never direct. It was so nice, Kate thought. The relaxed environment and collegiality made it so much easier to focus on the work, the theories.

  All their civility aside, the group was making no progress on
Martin’s notes.

  Their work now focused on one particular page that contained some sort of code:

  PIE = Immaru?

  535…1257 = Second Toba? New Delivery System?

  Adam => Flood/A$ Falls => Toba 2 => KBW

  Alpha => Missed Delta? => Delta => Omega

  70K YA => 12.5K YA => 535…1257 => 1918…1978

  Missing Alpha Leads to Treasure of Atlantis?

  Theories had been thrown around and collectively shot down. Kate had begun to fear they were out of ideas.

  Periodically, she heard banging from the engine room below, which was inevitably followed by a bout of cursing, always Shaw and David at each other. It only ended when Kamau spoke up in his deep baritone voice, always the same refrain interrupting the chorus of cursing and clanging: “Gentlemen, please!”

  Kate wondered if there would be anything left of the engine when they were done.

  Overall, it sounded like a bar brawl belowdecks and a book club up above.

  After yet another bout of intense banging and a final “Gentlemen, please!” from Kamau, David emerged from below, covered in grease.

  “We’re almost there,” he said. “But that’s all the good news. We don’t have enough fuel to make it to the coast.”

  Kate nodded. She considered bringing up Shaw’s plan to call his government, but she decided now wasn’t the time. David still seemed wound up. What would they do if these pirates showed up? Race down to their room, pass out guns and hope they could repel them? And that whoever killed Martin didn’t take a shot at her or David in the crossfire?