The Matt Drake Boxset 6 Page 3

  Hayden coughed. “I realize you’ve had bad experiences with government agencies and the CIA do get a bad press, but I did use to work for them. And I, at least, did my job right. They have an entire nation to protect. Rest assured I’ll pass the facts on to you.”

  “I wonder what’s blowing her skirt up,” Alicia whispered over the comms. “Sure as hell ain’t anything good.”

  Kenzie stared over at her. “What could be good that blows your skirt up?”

  “I dunno.” Alicia blinked quickly. “Johnny Depp’s mouth?”

  Hayden cleared her throat and continued. “Six Special Forces teams. Hard to say who’s sympathetic and who’s downright hostile. Do not assume. We must treat everyone as an enemy. Not one of the countries we know to be involved are acknowledging it. I realize you may know some of these guys, but the song remains the same.”

  As Hayden paused, Drake wondered about the British contingent. The SAS had quite a few regiments and he’d been gone many years but still, the world of ultra-elite soldiery was not exactly a large one. Hayden was right to bring up potential confrontations and reservations now rather than be surprised by them in the field. Dahl might wonder about the Swedish contingent and Kenzie the Israeli one. Good job there wasn’t a conventional American presence.

  “I can’t see China being friendly,” he said. “Nor Russia.”

  “At this rate,” Mai said, staring out of the window. “They’ll be shapes in the dark.”

  “Do we have an idea of each country’s current position?” Dahl asked.

  “Yeah, I was coming to that. As far as we can tell the Swedes are hours away. The French are still at home. Mossad are the closest, very close.”

  “Of course,” Dahl said. “Nobody really knows where they’re going.”

  Drake coughed lightly. “Trying to make excuses for Sweden’s shoddy attempt?”

  “Now you sound like Eurovision. And nobody mentioned Britain. Where are they? Still brewing a pot of tea?” Dahl lifted a pretend cup, little finger sticking out at an angle.

  It was a fair point. “Well, Sweden probably started back to front.”

  “At least they started.”

  “Guys,” Hayden cut in. “Don’t forget we’re a part of this too. And Washington expect us to win.”

  Drake grunted. Dahl grinned. Smyth looked up when Lauren started speaking.

  “An interesting aside to all this, is that some of these countries are vehemently protesting any involvement. Of course, there’s always a high bullshit level, but we could be dealing with some rogue elements too.”

  “Off the books? Splinter groups?” Kinimaka asked.

  “That’s a possibility.”

  “Just brings us back to the main brief,” Hayden said. “Everyone’s a hostile.”

  Drake wondered what Smyth might be thinking about her statement. Back in Cusco, Joshua had been a hostile, but because his death hadn’t been sanctioned by the government and their stay had been in flux, contested, nobody knew what would happen. The man’s death had been an accident, but fueled by inattention and over-eagerness. Yes, he was a parasite and a murderer, but the circumstances were different.

  After the chopper they filled the boats. Wearing black and with faces camouflaged, bouncing smoothly across the waters of the Hellespont, darkness finally filled the night. The route they chose was empty, the lights twinkling beyond the far shore. The Hellespont was an important channel that forms part of the boundary between Europe and Asia. A narrow strait, its northern shores harbored Gallipoli whilst most of its other boundaries were relatively sparsely settled. As they skimmed across the waters, Hayden and Lauren used the comms.

  “Hannibal never had a tomb, not even a grave marker. After an illustrious career this legendary general died almost alone, poisoned in old age. So, how do you find an unmarked grave?”

  Drake looked up as Lauren paused. Was she asking them?

  Smyth went gamely for a solution. “Sonar?”

  “It’s possible, but you would have to have a pretty good idea of where to look,” Dahl answered.

  “They found an obscure document, a matter of record yes, but lost in time,” Hayden said. “The fate of Hannibal has always galled those that loved the hero who stood against Roman imperialism. One such man was the President of Tunisia, who visited Istanbul in the sixties. During this visit the only thing he wanted was to be able to take the remains of Hannibal back to Tunisia with him. Nothing else mattered. The Turks eventually relented somewhat and took him on a little trip.”

  “The sixties?” Dahl said. “Wasn’t this when the war criminals started devising their nasty little plan?”

  “Most likely.” Hayden said. “After they settled in Cuba and established new lives. Their new Order then continued for almost twenty years.”

  “Plenty of time to get devious,” Alicia said.

  “And to choose their Four Horsemen,” Mai added. “Hannibal—the Horseman of War? Makes sense. But who the hell are Conquest, Famine and Death? And why is the Dardanelles in Africa one of the four corners of the earth?”

  “Good point,” Alicia backed Mai, causing Drake to double-take. “You need to get that little thinking cap back on, Foxy.”

  Lauren smiled. Drake could tell by the tone of her voice. “So the Turks, particularly embarrassed by their own lack of respect for Hannibal, took the Tunisian president to a spot on the Hellespont. It reads ‘on a hill where there is a dilapidated building.’ This is the reputed resting place of Hannibal Barca.”

  Drake waited, but no more information was forthcoming. “Still,” he said, “that was thirty years ago.”

  “It stood that long,” Lauren said, “and the Turks no doubt post some kind of honor guard.”

  Drake looked dubious. “Could just be an honor grave, truth be told.”

  “They took the President of Tunisia there, Matt. He even took away vials of sand, attested by his bodyguards, vouchsafing them as ‘sand from Hannibal’s gravesite’ on his return home. In that situation, in that year, would the Turks really have hoodwinked the Tunisian President?”

  Drake nodded ahead to the approaching dark curve of the coastline. “We’re about to find out.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Drake helped pull the sable-colored speedboat out of the water, mooring it to a nearby cluster of old roots and stowing the outboard. Mai, Alicia and Smyth rushed off to establish an outpost. Kinimaka hefted the heavy rucksacks with Dahl’s help. Drake felt sand under his boots. The air smelled earthy. Waves lapped hard at the shore to his left, given momentum by the boats. No other sound broke the stillness as the SPEAR team took stock.

  Hayden held a portable GPS unit. “All right. I have the coordinates programmed in. We good to go?”

  “Ready,” several voices breathed back.

  Hayden moved out and Drake fell in behind, working against the shifting sands beneath his feet. They scanned the area constantly, but no other lights were in evidence. Maybe they’d gotten here first after all. Maybe the other teams were holding off, letting somebody else do all the hard work. Maybe, even now, they were being watched.

  The possibilities were infinite. Drake nodded at Alicia as they passed and the Englishwoman fell into line. “Mai’s ranging from side to side.”

  “And Smyth?”

  “I’m out here. Coast is clear.”

  Oh aye, but we’re heading inland, Drake thought but said nothing. The soft sand gave way to hard-packed earth and then they were climbing an embankment. Just a few feet high and with a rolling top, they soon crossed over to find the edge of the desert and a stretch of flat ground. Hayden pointed the way and they traversed the barren wasteland. No need to post sentries now. They could see for miles, but Mai and Smyth stayed further afield, adding range to their sight.

  The GPS screen blinked silently, guiding them ever closer to their goal, and the dark arch of the night stretched imposingly above. With this much space the sky was vast; stars barely visible and the moon but a tiny sliver. Ten
minutes became twenty and then thirty, and still they walked alone. Hayden kept in touch through the comms, both with the team and Alexandria. Drake let the environment sink inside him, drawing breath with the unsteady beat of nature. Animal sounds, breezes, rustling earth—it was all there but nothing untoward. He realized the teams they were up against may be every bit as good as them but trusted his own abilities and those of his friends.

  “Up ahead,” Hayden whispered. “The GPS shows the topography rising about forty feet. That could be the hill we’re looking for. Eyes up.”

  The hill appeared slowly out of the gloom, a steadily rising mound of earth with tangled roots and boulders dotting the dry ground, and they made a steady path through the obstacles. Drake and Alicia took a moment to pause and look back, noting the smooth blackness stretching all the way to the undulating sea. And way beyond that, twinkling harbor lights, a whole different existence.

  “One day?” Alicia asked wonderingly.

  Drake hoped so. “We’ll get there,” he said.

  “It should be easy.”

  “Aye love. Like riding a bike. But you fall and you get cuts and bruises and scrapes long before you find your balance.”

  “Half way there then.” She touched him briefly and then continued up the hill.

  Drake followed her in silence. The future really did hold a new wealth of possibilities now that Alicia Myles had broken away from a cycle of self-annihilation. All they had to do was overcome the next set of madmen and megalomaniacs hellbent on making the people of the world suffer.

  And that right there was why soldiers like himself put everything on the line. For Adrian next door and Graeme across the road. For Chloe who struggled to get her two kids to school on time every single day. For the couples that bitched and moaned their way around the supermarket. For the good of those that sat good-naturedly in ring-road traffic jams and those that jumped the queues. Not for the gutter-trash that stole into your van or garage after dark, making off with whatever they could. Not for the bullies, the power-hungry and the back-stabbers. Let those that struggled hard to respect and love and care, be cared for. Let those that fought for their children’s future be assured a safe one. Let those that helped others, be helped.

  Hayden caught his attention with a low grunt. “This could be the place. GPS says it is and I see a derelict structure ahead.”

  He saw the overlapping colored dots. This was ground zero then. This was now no longer a time for subtlety. They may as well set off fireworks in their quest to locate Hannibal’s grave if, now that they were here, they could find it faster. Because Drake was certain—if they could find it, all the other teams could.

  Hayden marked the approximate area. Kinimaka and Dahl swung their heavy packs down. Mai and Smyth took up the best surveillance positions. Drake and Alicia moved close to Hayden to help. Only Yorgi hung back, lack of confidence showing as he waited to be told what to do.

  Kinimaka and Dahl broke out the good flashlights, setting a trio up on carbon-fiber cradles and handing more out. These were not simply bright bulbs, they were manufactured to imitate sunlight as close as possible. Admittedly, even the CIA’s vast reach was limited in Egypt but Drake thought the apparatus didn’t look half bad. Kinimaka used the cradle-mounted light to illuminate a general large area and then Hayden and Dahl roamed to check the earth.

  “Now be aware,” Hayden told them. “The Order of the Last Judgment states a weapon was buried here long after Hannibal’s death. This is an unmarked grave, not a tomb. So we’re looking for disturbed earth, not bones or blocks or pillars. We’re looking for items more recently interred, not ancient relics. It shouldn’t be too hard to—”

  “Don’t say it!” Dahl barked. “You’ll jinx bloody everything.”

  “I’m just saying we don’t have to find Hannibal. Just the weapon.”

  “Good point.” Kinimaka adjusted the perimeter lights a little.

  Hayden marked three places in the earth. All looked as if they’d been tampered with and none recently. Yorgi walked up carefully, shovel in hand. Drake and Alicia joined him and then Kinimaka.

  “Just dig,” Hayden said. “Hurry.”

  “What if it’s booby-trapped?” Alicia asked.

  Drake looked over at the dilapidated building. Walls hung sadly, drooping as if holding the weight of the world. One side had been chopped in half as if by a giant cleaver, blocks now exposed to both sides like ragged teeth. The roof had long since collapsed, doors and windows gone. “Well, it’s not like we can take shelter in there.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No worries, love. Chin up.”

  Drake ignored the vehement glare and got to work. “So what’s the significance of the Four Horsemen anyway?” he asked Hayden through the comms.

  “Think tank’s best guess? They fit the historical figures we’re searching for and the weapons we hope to find. So Hannibal, raised to hate Romans, brought an almost endless war to Rome, yes? This is where we’ll find a weapon of war.”

  “Could also be that they’re horsemen,” Kinimaka put in. “I mean, Hannibal was.”

  “Yeah, bit too vague, Mano.”

  “So nothing to do with the Bible?” Drake dug out another mound of earth. “ ’Cause we don’t want none of those silly codes.”

  “Well, they appeared in Revelation and—”

  “Whoa!” Alicia suddenly cried out. “I think I hit something!”

  “And heads up,” Mai’s voice rustled over the comms. “There are new lights on the water, coming fast.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Drake threw his shovel to the floor and strode over to watch Alicia. Yorgi was already there, helping her dig. Kinimaka also moved in fast.

  “How long do we have?” Hayden asked urgently.

  “Judging their speed, thirty minutes tops,” Smyth responded.

  Dahl stared hard. “Any clue?”

  “Probably Mossad,” Kenzie replied. “They were closest.”

  Drake cursed. “The only time I ever wished for the bloody Swedes to come first.”

  Alicia was knee deep in the hole, slamming the edge of her spade into soft earth, trying to ease the object free. She struggled, pulling at the obscure edges with no joy. Kinimaka cleared soil from above as Yorgi joined Alicia in the ever-widening gash in the earth.

  “What is it?” Drake asked.

  Hayden crouched, resting her hands on her knees. “Can’t quite tell yet.”

  “Put yer friggin’ back into it, Alicia.” Drake grinned.

  A glare and a raised finger was his only reply. The object in question was covered in dirt and clad all around in earth but it did have a shape. Oblong, measuring approximately two meters by one meter, it had a definite box shape and shifted easily, showing that it wasn’t at all heavy. The problem was, it was surrounded and packed by hard earth and roots. Drake stared from the box to the sea, watching the lights move ever closer and wondering how the hell such a small, light container could hold a devastating weapon of war.

  “Fifteen minutes,” Smyth reported. “No other signs of approach.”

  Alicia wrestled with the earth, cursing and getting nowhere at first but finally exposing the object and letting Yorgi pull it free. Even then, buried vines and tangled roots clung to it, gleefully it seemed, presenting a hard, twisted cluster that refused to let go. They were up to their waists now, brushing at muddy clothes and resting on their shovels. Drake refrained from making the obvious men at work crack, and stooped down to help lift. Dahl reached down too and between them they managed to find purchase along the side of the object and tug it free. Roots protested, snapping and unravelling. Some held on for dear life. Drake heaved, and felt it scoot up the hole and over the rim. Rivers of displaced soil ran from the top. Together, he and Dahl then rose and stared down at Alicia and Yorgi. Both were red-faced and panting.

  “What?” Drake asked. “You two planning a tea break? Get the hell up here.”

  Both Alicia and Yorgi double-checked the bot
tom of the hole, searching for more boxes or, perhaps, old bones. Nothing turned up. A moment later the young Russian ran at the side of the hole, finding purchase where there seemed to be none to bounce up the slope and over the edge of the hole. Alicia watched with chagrin and then leapt a little ungainly for the rim. Drake caught her hand, pulled her up.

  He clucked. “You forgot the shovel.”

  “You wanna go fetch? I propose head first.”

  “Temper, temper.”

  Hayden remained staring down into the hole. “I thought a moment for poor old Hannibal Barca is in order. We mean no disrespect to a fellow soldier.”

  Drake nodded in agreement. “Legend.”

  “If he’s even down there.”

  “The Nazis did their research,” Hayden said. “And, grudgingly I admit they did it well. Hannibal achieved enduring fame simply because he was good at his job. His journey across the Alps is still one of the most prodigious military accomplishments of early warfare. He introduced military strategies that are still lauded today.”

  After a moment they looked up. Dahl was with them. Kinimaka brushed off the object to reveal a sturdy box, made of dark wood. A small crest had been emblazoned in the top, and the Hawaiian sought to expose it.

  Hayden leaned in. “That’s it. Their self-made emblem. The Order of the Last Judgment.”

  Drake studied it, committing the symbol to memory. It resembled a small center circle with four swirling scythes positioned around it at odd compass points. The circle was the infinity symbol.

  “Scythes are weapons,” Hayden said. “Protecting their world within?” She shrugged. “We’ll figure it out later if we have to. C’mon.”

  The lights were no longer offshore, which meant Mossad, if that’s who were closest, had reached solid ground and were less than fifteen minutes away at full pace. Drake wondered once more how the confrontation would go down. SPEAR had been ordered to secure all four weapons at all costs, but orders rarely translated perfectly to the field of action. He saw twitchy expressions on other faces and knew they felt the same, even Hayden who was closest to the command structure.