She smiled. “Apparently. Hey, I didn’t make up the story. I’m just telling you what I know about the legend.”
Sam said, “But the crusades didn’t start until somewhere in the middle of the eleventh century.”
Her lips formed a half-grin. She turned to meet his eyes directly. “So?”
“So, the fictional Saxon king of Camelot died while fighting off Roman invaders during the seventh century.”
She lifted her hands in the air in acceptance. “Hey, like I said, I didn’t make up the legend. I’m just telling you what I heard. Besides, what makes you think the legend isn’t true?”
It was Sam’s turn to laugh. “Probably the fact that there’s no written historical evidence of the legendary king, let alone Camelot, or its band of chivalrous knights.”
“You know the Dark Ages were named that for a reason, right?”
“Touché.” Sam changed down a gear, slowing the old T-Bird so that he could steer round an upcoming snake-like bend. “So maybe King Arthur lived much later, somewhere around the late 10th century?”
“Beats me. I just liked the stories. But you know what I’d like to imagine?”
“No. What?”
“What if King Arthur and his legends of honor, duty, and chivalry, were like a flaming torch, passed on throughout the ages of time, to allow the people — from peasants through to kings — to rise up and make the place better.”
Sam gave that some serious thought, as he accelerated out of the corner.
A large grin formed. “I like that. Who’s King Arthur for our generation?”
She met his smile. “I don’t know. But sometimes I think our world needs one, and I like to believe the next embodiment of all that is good will rise like an Arthurian legend when our civilization needs it the most.”
They drove in silence for another minute.
Up ahead, the road came alive with the red and blue flashes of an oncoming emergency vehicle. Sam pulled to the side of the road to make room, and watched as a Tillamook Sheriff’s Ford F150 Interceptor raced by, with a single occupant at the driver’s seat.
Sam turned the steering wheel to the left until it reached a full wheel lock, and accelerated in a sharp U-turn, before racing afterward.
Guinevere asked, “What the hell are you doing?”
“There was only one officer in the car.”
“So?”
“You and I both know that there’s true evil in that forest back there.”
“I remember. We were both trying to escape it. So what are you doing taking us back there?”
Sam gritted his teeth. “I can’t let a single officer drive alone into that sort of thing. Whoever they are, they’re going to need help.”
Guinevere shook her head. “When I said the world needed an Arthurian legend to rise up and help those in need, I didn’t think you’d take it literally!”
Chapter Ten
Dexter Cunningham watched as the Director of MI-6 approached his office. The man was wearing casual clothing, which wasn’t unusual. After all, if the head of a Secret Intelligence Agency can’t work incognito, who can?
Dexter straightened himself up.
Plain clothes or not, the Director had an air about him that sent shivers down the spines of even the toughest operatives.
The Director entered his office, closed the door, and shut the blinds. Without preamble, he said, “I’m afraid we’ve lost Excalibur.”
Dexter’s blood turned to ice. “Are you certain? The project was shut down in 2008. Excalibur was to be put down.”
The Director smiled at the euphemism for executed. “You know damned well what happened. The entire project was to be shut down long before that. But there was a complication…”
Dexter nodded. “I remember. The vessel he was being transported on sank.”
The Director raised his eyebrows. “Yes. The report suggested a fire. But my guess is that Excalibur was behind it.”
“You’re kidding. He was sedated and restrained.”
“What did you think he was going to do? He knew he was being sent to his execution. You didn’t think he would let that happen so easily?”
Dexter nodded. “Sure, but the ship sank in the end. There were no survivors.”
The Director’s lips hardened into a flat line. “Dexter Cunningham, don’t play games with me. I know damned well what happened after we tried to shut down the program. I also know that Excalibur went about systematically attempting to execute every man on the team. In 2011, either before or after killing Patrick, the Hoshi Maru, a Japanese fishing trawler, was destroyed by the devastating 2011 tsunami.”
“I know. Dr. Jim Patterson and I were there. We were tracking Excalibur.”
“You used Patrick as bait.” It wasn’t a question. Simply an acknowledgement that the Director knew everything that had happened, despite their secrecy at the time.
Dexter nodded. “We were trying to finish what we first set out to do. Excalibur had to be stopped. Although, we never predicted that a tsunami would be the thing to destroy him.”
The Director’s eyes narrowed. “Are you certain it did?”
Dexter nodded. “We watched the trawler get destroyed. Its captain had gambled, trying to take it back out to the safety of sea, but the die didn’t roll quite as its skipper had planned. Instead, the Hoshi Maru took the brunt of the tsunami on its portside. A thirty-foot wall of water struck it causing the ship to broach and instantly reducing its steel hull to rubble.”
“But where did that rubble end up?”
“As though that wasn’t enough damage to destroy Excalibur, the Hoshi Maru was dragged back out to sea by the receding tide, where I’m guessing — or certainly hoping — the ship eventually sank, drowning Excalibur in the process.”
“You’re forgetting Excalibur was one hell of a swimmer.”
“Sure, but out there in the middle of the ocean? How long could he have survived?”
“Long enough to reach the Oregon Coast.”
Dexter coughed. “You mean, as in the US West Coast?”
The Director crossed his arms. “Afraid so.”
“How?”
“The wreckage of the Hoshi Maru was indeed taken out to sea by the receding waters of the Japanese tsunami, where it was eventually picked up by a series of currents in the Pacific Ocean. Over the course of the past seven years, the ship has drifted, until a few days ago, when its hull washed up on Cannon Beach along the Oregon Coast.”
“Good God!” Dexter said. “What are the chances?”
“Indeed.”
“I don’t suppose we had the good fortune of discovering that all occupants on board the Hoshi Maru were found dead?”
“They were. In fact, what remained of their bodies were all set up perfectly in the ship’s dining compartment, as though Excalibur had gotten bored and decided to play with them.”
Dexter pictured the gruesome scene. It was the sort of thing he could imagine Excalibur doing. “But no sign of Excalibur’s body?”
“No. There was. In fact, the wreckage shows that someone had been alive on the Hoshi Maru when it finally came to rest along the Oregon Coast. Whoever that someone was, left on foot immediately. You and I can both guess where he was heading.”
“You think after all this time his first thought was revenge?”
The Director raised his eyebrows. “Don’t you?”
Dexter sat there in silence. He knew exactly where Excalibur would be heading, even though he didn’t want to accept it.
The Director handed him a report. “Here, look at this. Live video feeds show him hitchhiking south along US Route 101 like he’s on some goddamn vacation!”