Andrew’s cell rang once.
“Jason. Tell me some good fucking news.”
Andrew listened to the man’s response. A genuine grin crossing his face. “Really? You’ve got to be kidding me.” Andrew laughed for the first time that day. “Buy it. I don’t care how much it costs. I want that stone. And, Jason… don’t fail me with this.”
Chapter Thirteen
In the grandmaster’s sitting room of the Waldorf, Sam carefully studied the inscriptions on the Arcane Stone, and then swore.
“It’s a fake! We nearly got ourselves killed for a fucking replica!” Sam wanted to punch something, or someone, very hard.
“Are you certain?” Tom asked.
Sam brought up the screen-shot from Billie’s notes. These were the notes Billie had of the real Arcane Stone. It was made from orichalcum, an alloy only ever found in the hills surrounding Atlantis. A naturally forming alloy, consisting of gold, copper, zinc, and lead.
“The dimensions are identical to the original, but the metal is entirely copper.”
“So, won’t it still work to identify the opening to the Atlantis Archives?”
“No. Billie’s notes tell us that orichalcum has a very unique and rare response to light, in which it magnifies light three or four times better than copper. Even if this is shaped identically to the real Arcane Stone, it would never reflect the light in the same manner.”
Tom shrugged his shoulder, as if to say, ‘it all sounds close enough to me.’
“Come on, Tom, we have a flight to catch.”
“But you said this thing’s a fake and won’t help us?”
“It won’t. But I know someone who will.”
The two quickly walked to the front of the hotel and caught a cab from out the front.
“Elise. I’m texting you an image of a device found by a Hank Worthington in 1638.”
“And how are you, too? I’m glad you appreciate me saving your lives. Although why I bother I don’t know. After all, between the two of you, I’m certain you’re both more interested in throwing them away.”
“I’m sorry Elise. We’re in some trouble — again. I need you to locate something for me.”
“Sure. What is it?”
“It’s called the Arcane Stone and at the time was believed to be made of brass, but archeologists have long thought that it might have been made of orichalcum. According to Billie’s notes, it’s a key to an ancient archive for the people of Atlantis.”
“That’s if they existed, at all?”
“They existed Elise. Find me that artifact, and I’ll prove it to you.”
“Very good. Give me a few minutes and I’ll let you know what I’ve found. Where are you headed?”
“Nepal.”
“Really? You believe all that crap that the Nazis propaganda machine put out about the lost civilization of Atlantis being in the Himalayas?”
“No. But I believe their archives have been recorded there for the past 11,000 years.”
“And the Arcane Stone is going to show you the way?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Hang on a second Sam. I think I’ve got something, but you’re not going to like it.”
“Why not?”
“The Arcane Stone is currently owned by the Le Milieu Corso-Marseillais. They’re a secret society that has close links with just about every form of organized crime, from drugs, human trafficking — right through to the provisioning of private mercenary armies.”
Sam sighed. “That’s fine. Are they willing to sell it?”
“Sure are. Terrorism doesn’t come cheap these days. They currently have it listed on the Dark Net for 10 million Euros, with a note that it holds the key to locating Atlantis and other unknown riches. It’s probably a fake anyway.”
Tom interrupted. “Hey, Elise. Sorry to interrupt. What the hell’s the Dark Net?”
“Hi Tom. You know how most things we do on the internet is clearly visible to everyone. We make things available to search engines like Google. The dark net is the rest of the internet, where general users have no means of accessing information without knowing the precise URL to begin with. It’s used for secrecy, and as well as the latest conspiracy theorist, organized crime seem to like it for its obvious benefits.”
The cab pulled into the Schiphol Amsterdam Airport.
“Enough of the computer science lesson, Elise. Billie’s in trouble. Tell them the price is fine. Buy it for me and send it where I’m headed in Nepal. I’ll send you the address in a second.”
“But you’re not going to Nepal.”
“I’m not?”
“No, Le Milieu Corso-Marseillais don’t sell through Ebay or anything like that. You’re going to need to actually meet them. They won’t have a thing to do with you or your absurd amounts of money without seeing you in person.”
“All right, all right. Where are we headed?”
“The French Riviera.”
“That sounds all right. By the way you were speaking, I thought you were going to send me off to Iran or something difficult.”
“No, but don’t let the lovely location or the romantic lights fool you. These people maintain one of the cruelest and most ruthless organizations in the world. Just because you’re a potential buyer doesn’t make you their friend or in any less danger. You’re going to want to be careful.”
“Okay, arrange a meeting for me Elise.”
“Will do, and be careful.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll bring Tom along for a show of muscle.”
Chapter Fourteen
Billie woke up to the throbbing pain in her head.
Whatever sedative she’d been given, it had left a terrible aftereffect of amnesia, disorientation and pain. She could do nothing about the pain, but she would immediately work to rectify the other two problems.
How the fuck did I get here? Billie thought about it for a minute. She’d been driving in Amsterdam. Something had frightened her. But what? She felt the itch above her forehead and went to scratch. It was swollen and there were several surgical stiches under her hair line. That’s new.
Instantly, Billie returned to the events of earlier today, or yesterday — or however much time had passed and she’d been unconscious since the accident. Someone had learned what she knew and had come for her. She’d contacted Sam Reilly, and he’d said he would come for her, but something happened and he never reached her.
They had knocked her car into the water! She had tried to escape the sinking car, only to find that a diver had given her something, and taken her…
Billie looked around, trying to orient herself.
The room was mostly dark, with the dull ambient fluorescent lights outside barely providing enough light to see. There was no door, and she wondered if she could leave if she tried to. Her hand touched the metal wall next to the bed she’d woken up in. It vibrated, just slightly. And an image of a turbine spinning matched the constant drum she’d heard since waking.
They have me on a ship?
The realization hit her with surprise. She stood up and looked at the floor below her. It was metal. More like a steel grate on a working ship. Although she’d only just clambered out of the bed, her feet felt stable.
No, there’s no swell or movement of the waves. Even in a flat sea, she knew there was a certain amount of movement.
She looked around the room.
It looked like a bedroom, with a slightly smaller than normal single bed. There were no windows, or anything else to be seen inside the room. The walls were dark.
I’m in a submarine?
With an air of fatalism, she stepped out of the room and down the dark passageway. Looking for anything that wasn’t bolted to the walls that could be used as a weapon, Billie found that she was completely vulnerable.