“You’re correct about my role in placing the sarin, and the phone call, but I’m not the one who controls the clasp.”
“The Shadows?”
“I don’t work for the Shadows, even though they think I do.”
“Who do you work for?”
“Anyone who pays me.”
“In that case, I can make you rich beyond your dreams. The scepter is only part of what I found. I’ll trade the scepter for Cait. And I’ll give you the rest of the treasure if you identify who’s giving you orders.”
Marzak glanced down at Cait’s supine form and a thoughtful look came to his face.
“Tell me about it,” he said.
Calvin was tying a flashlight to the top of the robot when the voices started coming over the radio. Something had gone wrong.
As he listened, he activated the robot’s forward control. It moved forward slowly, navigating the undulating boardwalk, and stopped around a foot from where he had seen the booby trap. He climbed back into the raft and pushed away from the platform until he was a safe distance off shore.
Hawkins slid the scepter off his shoulder.
“This bauble is only part of it,” he said. “There are twenty chests of treasure. Each one is filled with a different type of gem. Diamonds, rubies, emeralds, lapis lazuli. You name it. You could retire in splendor to your own island.”
“Tempting, Hawkins. How do I know you’re telling the truth about the treasure?”
“Easy. I can lead you to it.”
“Agreed. The scepter for now, please. Then we’ll talk about the rest of it.”
He’s agreeing much too fast, Hawkins thought.
“OK. Your call. Just hope this thing doesn’t blow up in your face.”
“What are you talking about, Hawkins?”
He held the scepter up. “I’m talking about the explosive nature of this thing.”
“You’re talking like a crazy man.”
“Maybe, but this thing has already caused a lot of fireworks.”
Calvin finally realized what Hawkins was trying to tell him.
Duh. He pushed the forward button. The robot’s treads hit the pressure plate.
Kaboom!
The middle of the dock disappeared in a blinding ball of fire. Flaming splinters of wood fell from the sky like rain.
Calvin was already on the move.
Cait moaned at the noise of the explosion and tried to lift her head.
Marzak cocked his ear as the echoes faded. “I forgot to tell you. I set up a surprise for anyone attempting to come ashore at the old dock.”
“You killed Calvin, you sonofabitch! The deal is off.”
Hawkins backed up. He wanted to draw Marzak away from Cait.
Marzak came around the side of the bar, holding the dagger forward like a fencer, and advanced slowly. Hawkins raised the scepter and swung it like it was a Louisville Slugger. Marzak jumped back out of the way.
Cait was up on one elbow, taking in the confrontation with bleary eyes. She pushed herself off the bar, stood on shaky legs and tried to walk. She was only vaguely aware of knocking something over with her knee as she made her way unsteadily around the bar.
Marzak thrust the knifepoint at Hawkins, who sucked his gut in and took another swing with the scepter. Marzak circled, trying to drive Hawkins toward the weakened floor in front of the altar. He dodged another swing, and got in a quick swipe of his knife that caught Hawkins in the ribs.
Marzak saw Hawkins wince with pain and lower the scepter. The next cut of the blade would catch Hawkins below the Adams apple.
Cait was still unsteady on her feet, but she made it around to the front of the bar. Her groping hand accidentally pushed a candle over the edge. There was a plouff sound as the gasoline she’d knocked over a moment earlier ignited.
Flames roared up, enveloping the back of the bar and the rotten deck.
Hawkins jumped back to avoid another knife thrust. He felt a warm wetness in his chest where he’d been cut. He instinctively moved to protect Cait only to feel his feet break through the rotten planks. He crashed through the deck up to his armpits and struggled to keep from falling in any further. His pistol holster was inaccessible.
Marzak sheathed his dagger and extended a hand.
“Give me the scepter, Hawkins. I’ll pull you out.”
Hawkins lifted the relic, but when Marzak moved closer, Hawkins swung it at his ankle. The cross arm connected with skin and bone. Marzak yelled in pain and backed off. His hand went to his belt holster and he drew his pistol and pointed the muzzle at Hawkins’ face.
Speaking quietly, he said, “Fine, I’ll just go ahead and kill you now, Hawkins. Matter of family honor for killing my brother. Too bad. We’re arrows from the same quiver, you know.”
“What are you talking about?”
Marzak smiled, but instead of firing the gun, he shuddered, as if he’d been hit by a blast of wind, and his mouth dropped open in a look of shock. His free hand groped at his shirt where two holes had appeared as if by magic. He squinted through the flames roaring around the bar, fired his gun at something unseen then turned and ran into the dining room and out onto the deck.
Flames were rapidly spreading through the lounge and the air was thick with smoke. Cait rushed forward to give Hawkins a hand, but then a familiar voice was yelling at her to stand aside.
Calvin stepped past her and reached for the scepter, wrapped his hands around it and pulled Hawkins out like a cork from an old bottle of wine.
With Calvin in the lead, they ran through the dining room, weaving their way through the swirling pockets of flame dancing around like fiery wraiths. Tongues of yellow fire licked at their heels, but then they were out the door and down the gang plank.
The massive bonfire consumed the boat from stem to stern and blistered the air with its heat.
As they hastily made their way to the truck in the undulating light from the blaze, Hawkins scanned the old parking lot and the surrounding woods
Marzak was nowhere to be seen.
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
The conference room in the office labyrinth of Global Logistics Technologies was unremarkable, but the same could not be said about its four occupants.
Hawkins stood in front of a blank presentation screen holding a laser pointer. He had bagged his quasi-military outfit in favor of Woods Hole casuaclass="underline" jeans, chambray work shirt and work boots. Hawkins’ big-boned physique and craggy features would have been an imposing presence anywhere, but the Afghan sun and wind had brought out the reddish skin tint he’d inherited from his Micmac ancestors and the rigors of the Afghan mission had hardened his features, especially around the dark eyes.
Seated at a table directly in front of Hawkins was Calvin, who looked like an entertainment lawyer in his thousand dollar Armani suit. Next to him was Abby, smartly dressed in a beige pants-suit and lavender blouse. They both wore a watchful wariness that wasn’t there at the start of the operation.
The only one not to have changed was Sutherland who sat at a table with her battered laptop open in front of her. She wore her standard outfit of jeans and sweatshirt. With the slight smile under her pudgy cheeks and innocent eyes blinking behind her glasses, she could have been a bank teller about to cash a check at the drive-up window.
“Cait is still recovering from her drug hangover,” Hawkins announced. “She’ll be okay in another day or so. Unfortunately, Marzak is still on the loose and he’s got the capability to detonate the sarin bombs at any time.”