“Months,” Karin said. “He returned there at least twice.”
“He may have visited every island then. What you should do is check out his logs, not his history or his achievements. It’s the things he isn’t famous for that we need to know about.”
“That…” Karin paused. “That actually makes sense.”
Ben said nothing. Karin hadn’t finished. “What we do know is this: the Hawaiian god of fire, lightning and volcanoes is a woman called Pele. She is a popular figure in many ancient tales of Hawaii. Her home is said to be at the summit of one of the world’s most active volcanoes, but that’s on the Big Island, not Oahu.”
“Is that it?” Drake asked shortly.
“No. Although most of the tales are about her sisters and siblings, some of the legends tell of the Gates of Pele. The gates lead into fire and the heart of a volcano — does that sound like Hell to you?”
“Could be a metaphor,” Kinimaka said without thinking, then blushed. “Well, it could be. You know…”
Alicia was the first to laugh. “Thank God someone’s still got a sense of humor.” She chortled, then added “No offence” in a voice that showed she didn’t really care which way people took her.
“Gates of Pele might be useful,” Drake said. “Keep at it. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Aren’t you staying?” Ben blurted, obviously hoping he’d get a chance to talk to his friend.
“No.” Drake stared out the window as the sun began to set over the ocean. “Tonight, I have somewhere to be.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Drake walked out of the room without looking back. As expected, Hayden caught him up just as he was about to step on the elevator.
“Drake, slow down. Is she alright?”
“You know she’s alright. You saw her on the video feed.”
Hayden grabbed his arm. “You know what I mean.”
“She’ll recover. It had to look good, you know that. Boudreau had to think it was for real.”
“Yes.”
“I wish I could have seen him snap.”
“Well, I was the one he stabbed, so I got that pleasure, thanks to you.”
Drake pressed the button for the ground floor. “Your agents should have his sister by now. They’ll take her to the hospital, and get her cleaned up. Fake blood’s a devil to get outta the hair, you know.”
“Boudreau’s turned even crazier if that’s possible. When his sister stood up, alive—” Hayden shook her head. “Ultimate meltdown.”
“The plan worked. The idea was sound,” Drake told her. “We got the information. It was worth it.”
Hayden nodded. “I know. I’m just glad the maniac’s behind bars.”
Drake stepped into the elevator and waited for the doors to close. “If it were up to me,” he said as Hayden vanished from sight. “I’d shoot the bastard in his cell.”
Drake took a cab to Biscayne Boulevard and headed for the Bayside Marketplace. The person who had called him, sounding subdued and shaky and completely out of character, had wanted to meet outside the Bubba Gump. Drake had experienced a moment of humour and suggested Hooters, a place probably more fitting for them, but Mai had acted as though she hadn’t even heard him.
Drake joined the throng, listened to the rowdy merriment all around him, and felt completely out of place. How could these people be so happy when he had lost something so dear? How could they not care?
His throat was dry, his lips cracked. The bar at Bubba Gump beckoned. Maybe he could sink a few before she arrived. He was under no illusions, though; this had to stop. If he was going to Hawaii to hunt the murderer of the woman he loved, if he was going to extract vengeance and not become a victim— this had to be the last time.
Had to be.
He was about to push through the door when Mai shouted at him. She was right there, leaning against a pillar not six feet away. If she had been an enemy, he’d be dead right now.
His resolve for savagery and retribution was worthless without focus and expertise.
Mai headed for the restaurant and Drake followed. They took seats at the bar and ordered Lava Flows in honor of the forthcoming Hawaiian trip.
Drake remained silent. He had never seen Mai Kitano nervous before. He had never seen her scared before. He couldn’t imagine the scenario that would faze her.
And then his world collapsed again.
“Kovalenko abducted my sister, Chika, from Tokyo. Many months ago now. He has been holding her ever since as captive.” Mai took a deep breath.
“I see. I understand what you did,” Drake said in a whisper. It was obvious. Family always came first.
“He has the device.”
“Yes.”
“I came to the US to find her. To find Kovalenko. But I failed until you and your friends contacted me. I owe you.”
“We didn’t save her. You did.”
“You gave me hope, made me part of the team.”
“You’re still part of the team. And don’t forget the government has the other device. They’re not about to give it up.”
“Unless one of them has had a loved one in captivity.”
Drake knew what had happened to Gates’s wife but said nothing. “We will need you in Hawaii, Mai. If we’re to beat this man, we will need the best. The government knows it. That’s why you and Alicia and the others have been cleared to go.”
“And you?”
“And me.”
“What of your loved ones, Drake? Has the Blood King tried to make good on his vendetta?”
Drake shrugged. “He failed.”
“And yet he will keep trying.”
“Is your sister safe? Does she need extra protection? I know some people—”
“It is taken care of, thank you.”
Drake studied the untouched drink. “Then it will all end in Hawaii,” he said. “And now that we have almost found him, it will be soon.”
Mai took a long sip of her drink. “He will be prepared, Drake. He has been planning this for a decade.”
“It’s a land of fire,” he said. “Add Kovalenko and all of us to the equation and the whole place might just explode.”
He watched Mai walk away toward the parking lot and headed over to where he thought a cab might be. The Miami nightlife was in full swing. Alcohol wasn’t the only intoxication available and the mix of endless, balmy nights, the fine men and women, and the up-tempo tunes were working hard to boost even his shattered morale.
He rounded a corner and the marina was laid out before him — yachts bristling to take pride of place, crowds thronging the walkways, an open-air restaurant studded with beautiful people without a care in the world.
Due for most part to people like Matt Drake.
He turned back. His cellphone began to ring that haunting, melodic tune.
A quick jab of the button. “Yes?”
“Matt? Good day. Hello.” The fine Oxford educated tones surprised him.
“Dahl?” he said. “Torsten Dahl?”
“Of course. Who else sounds this good?”
Panic struck Drake. “Is everything okay?”
“Do not worry, mate. All is well at this side of the world. Iceland is great. The kids are fantastic. The wife is… the wife. How goes it with Kovalenko?”
“We found him,” Drake said with a smile. “Almost. We know where to look. There’s some mobilization taking place right now and we should be in Hawaii tomorrow.”
“Excellent. Well, the reason I am ringing may or may not be of some use to you. You can decide yourself. As you know the exploration of the Tomb of the Gods continues cautiously. You remember back at Frey’s chateau when I stood on the edge of Odin’s tomb with my tongue hanging out? You remember what we found?”