‘The only thing I’ve been able to find that makes any sense is this,’ Vladimir said as he handed his father a glossy photograph. ‘She’s been collecting images of this place for months.’
Yuri took the photograph and studied it. It appeared to be a sonar image, or perhaps one taken by satellite, that showed the south-east corner of Yonaguni Island. There, just off the coast, a distinctive series of geometric shapes emerged from the sea floor. Although Yuri was fully aware of the power of nature to carve extraordinary forms through volcanic and other processes, the sheer complexity of the site that he was looking at defied any natural explanation.
A central, temple like area was elevated high above the seafloor on a diamond-shaped plateau that was surrounded by pathways, steps, angular altars and other perfectly aligned features that screamed human architecture.
Vladimir handed him another sheet of paper that contain scribbled notes in Lucy’s hand, marking the depth of the remains and including charts that showed the original coastline prior to the last Ice Age.
‘According to these charts,’ Vladimir said, ‘the last time this site would have been above water and habitable was around three thousand years ago.’
‘The end of the Ice Age caused the melting of the massive ice caps,’ Yuri agreed. ‘Sea levels rose dramatically over a period of just centuries and swamped many coastal plains and cities. Some believe that this deluge was the origin of the flood myth from the Bible, as so many different peoples could have witnessed it and the event was dramatic enough to have remained in human memory and later been recorded.’
Vladimir shook his head as he leafed through the files.
‘The site has been dived over and over again,’ he said as he examined Lucy’s records. ‘Nobody has found anything except shards of pottery and wood, much of which has been dated as in excess of ten thousand years old, but according to this could easily have been washed up at the site from elsewhere. Scientists dispute that the site can be gauged from the result of the debris found around it.’
Yuri handed back the sonar image of the monument as he glanced out of the window of the limousine towards the island south-east coast.
‘We will need diving equipment,’ Yuri informed his son, ‘and a means to travel to the site without being seen easily by either Lucy Morgan or this man who is accompanying her. Do we know anything about him?’
‘As a matter of fact we do,’ Vladimir said as he handed his father another image. ‘It turns out that this is the same guy who showed up in Israel when Lucy was there. His name is Ethan Warner, a former journalist and United States Marine. He has a history of working for the US government as well as in various war zones and danger spots around the world. He could prove a problem for us.’
Yuri looked down at the picture of Warner, probably taken some time in the last five years. Wavy light brown hair framed cold grey eyes and a wide jaw, and Yuri could tell from the image taken of Warner crossing a road in Chicago that he was in good physical condition. Once a soldier…
‘Inform our men that Lucy Morgan is the priority,’ Yuri decided. ‘If this Ethan Warner decides he wants to get in the way, then they are to deal with him as the situation dictates.’
Vladimir nodded enthusiastically as he picked up the phone from beside him on the seat and began dialling.
‘Don’t worry, papa,’ he said. ‘I will deal with Ethan Warner personally.’
XIII
‘We’ve been out here many times before, there won’t be any problems.’
Michael Spader was an American archaeologist who had travelled to Japan after marrying his wife, Ishira, when she decided to return to her homeland to continue her own research into ancient feudal Japan. A native of Ohio, as far as Ethan could make out Michael seemed to be the kind of free spirit who just went along with everybody else, and had an easy-going nature that provided Ethan with some kind of reassurance that he and his wife knew what they were doing.
Michael was at the wheelhouse of the small boat Jest as it crashed through the waves along the island’s south shore. Ishira was busily unpacking and preparing the diving equipment alongside Lucy, who had suddenly developed a very business-like attitude towards the expedition. Ethan shrugged off the jetlag weighing down upon him with an effort as he stepped towards the bow of the boat where Michael was guiding it through the brisk seas.
‘How deep are the remains?’ Ethan asked, shouting to be heard above the engine and the crashing water.
‘In places it’s not much more than ten feet,’ Michael explained. ‘In others, more like fifty but it’s all accessible. I’d imagine a maximum dive time of thirty minutes plus decompression.’
Ethan looked up at the bright blue sky, filled with light, cumulus clouds flaring bright white in the sunlight. The ocean was brisk, but in shallow waters Jest would easily be able to anchor. He looked up at the steep cliffs lining the nearby shore, seeking weak spots or points of ambush from which the boat would be easily visible on the ocean.
‘You look like you’re staking the joint out,’ Michael observed.
‘Habit of a lifetime.’
Ethan glanced across to the rucksack he had bought with him, somewhat reassured by the knowledge that a 9 mm pistol was safely tucked inside. There had been no way he could have dared to attempt to slip a weapon through customs either when leaving the USA or arriving in Japan: even though he technically had the knowledge and ability to do so, the chance of him being flagged up and thus exposed was too great to take. Instead, he had elected to contact a former buddy from the Marines who was still on active service and based in Okinawa, and through him he had been able to obtain the weapon despite Lucy’s concern.
‘I didn’t expect you to be carrying,’ Michael said to him.
‘I didn’t expect you to know.’
Michael grinned. ‘I didn’t, but I do now.’
Ethan dropped his voice an octave so that Ishira would not overhear him. ‘Lucy is being followed, and the people following her are not afraid of guns. I thought it best to be cautious.’
‘And you were going to tell us about this when?’ Michael demanded, the smile gone from his face.
‘Now,’ Ethan replied without rancour. ‘You’re not in any danger, and we’re far enough out here that we’ll see any trouble coming long before it reaches us.’
‘That’s not particularly reassuring. We heard about what happened to Lucy in Israel, that she was abducted and held by terrorists or similar. Are they the same ones following her now?’
‘No,’ Ethan replied. ‘These guys are a different bunch and we don’t know exactly who they are.’
‘Smashing,’ Michael uttered. ‘First sign of trouble and we’re out of here, no questions asked.’
‘Agreed,’ Ethan replied. ‘Just wanted to let you know.’
‘Obliged, I’m sure.’
Ethan walked over to the diving gear and began busying himself preparing his own kit. Due to the relatively shallow nature of the dive they would be using a standard nitrogen and oxygen mix, with only a slight excess of oxygen to minimise the chances of nitrogen bubbles forming in the blood if they were forced to ascend too quickly. Ethan wanted the ability to get out of the water fast if anything went wrong, and despite the fact that they had departed the United Kingdom in great secrecy and left a complex trail behind them he had long ago learned to always err on the side of caution.
‘The kit’s ready,’ Lucy reported as she made a final check on the oxygen gauges.
‘Five minutes!’ Michael called from the wheelhouse, and Ethan heard the engine note whine down slightly as the boat approached the dive site and pulled in towards the coastline.