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Drake bit into the sandwich, savoring the taste of the crispy bacon with its accompaniment of brown sauce. “Not bad,” he murmured. “Not bad at all.”

“Coming from a real Yorkshireman,” Karin said, “that’s high praise.”

Komodo proceeded to hand out a tray of sandwiches and bottles of water, their first food inside their all-but-impregnable latest HQ. Provided by the new Secretary of Defense — Robert Price — the large, well-equipped office inside the Pentagon was just what they needed at this point. The SPEAR team had been bombed, assaulted, wounded and torn apart. Two weeks convalescing and quietly occupied with learning the ins and outs of a new routine was more than a soothing balm, it was a major part of the healing process.

Of course, the team wasn’t complete. Not without Alicia Myles. Drake ranked her absence as dangerous to all mankind — not just because of the person she was but for the simple fact that she had never once slowed down, never mourned, never departed from the long, well-travelled road to allow time and losses and circumstance to catch up.

The time was coming when it would, and the outfall from that particular nuclear explosion would taint them all.

Drake finished his sandwich and turned to Mai, attempting again to engage at least a part of her interest. “Any news on Grace?”

“Nothing yet.” The unknown seventeen-year-old that Mai had rescued from a terrible captivity had been called to a meeting with investigators today. Maybe they had unearthed something from her past. Drake hoped so. Mai had wanted to accompany Grace, but the child, independent, angry and guarded to the last, had insisted she go alone. This was part of her past and her future, part of growing up and moving on.

What else haunts you, Mai? he wanted to ask. All he knew was that Mai believed she had murdered a man that worked in part for the Triad, and that the memory was tearing her apart. In the words of those that often felt responsible for deeds beyond their controclass="underline" Blame all your life on me.

With no more information coming and, judging by his girlfriend’s face, no more about to be offered any time soon, Drake turned his mind to happier thoughts. Hayden Jaye, wounded in the final battle with the Blood King, had healed well and was now back up to full strength — if a little sore. One of the main reasons that she had recuperated so quickly sat beside her now — the Hawaiian mountain — Mano Kinimaka. With a sandwich in each hand and an eye to his colleagues, Kinimaka failed to notice the sauce slipping out from the bread. But Mano was used to accidents.

At the back of the large room, Smyth leaned against the wall, a cantankerous look stretched across his features. Drake knew the man well enough by now to know that didn’t necessarily mean he was in a bad mood; it was a sign that all was well in the land of Smyth and could even mean he was daydreaming about the Easter Bunny.

Hayden, reinstated as leader of their elite group, called the meeting to order. “I hope you’ve all had a good rest because the devils of this world won’t stay inert for long, and already we’re seeing the beginnings of new troubles. Not with us today are Yorgi — the suits don’t want to issue a Pentagon pass to an ex-Russian thief and jailbird — and Lauren, who has undertaken a mission for Mano, more of which I’ll explain some other time.”

“Why?” Smyth asked touchily. “Why not now?”

Hayden stared. “Because the nature of the job she performs for us is somewhat delicate, and if it doesn’t pan out, then it will remain undisclosed.”

Smyth snapped his mouth shut. Kinimaka cleared his throat. “You do well to keep quiet, Smyth. Even I don’t know what she means.”

Smyth looked unconvinced. Hayden continued, “With the final demise of Coyote we believe all remaining threats of the Blood King’s vendetta against us and our families have passed. I guess you could call this a new era, even a new beginning. Now, before concentrating their efforts on Coyote, Drake and Mai travelled to Russia, chiefly to Zoya’s abode.”

“The crazy grandma,” Kinimaka put in.

“The best footballer in Russia,” Drake added.

Hayden took a breath. “Anyway, in addition to their findings relating to the Ninth Division and Coyote’s identity, they instructed us to smuggle out as much of the woman’s treasure pile as we were able. That included relics and artefacts which we haven’t yet been able to identify, in addition to dossiers of information on a treasure trove hidden by crusaders, a lost kingdom, and this new group — the Pythians. Zoya appears to have collected a wealth of information and dirt on just about everything, and the worst of her labors will bear our team the best fruit for years to come.”

“Do we have any credible threats?” Smyth asked, as if trying to make Hayden come to the point.

“They’re all credible,” Hayden answered. “We recovered enough information on the Thule Society to keep two analysts busy for a month. The problem comes in deciding which one needs our attention most.”

“The Thule Society?” Kinimaka asked.

“A German occultist group and secret society within the Nazi party. Their ancient myth research arm, if you will. They were even named after a mythical country from Greek legend and spent millions of Reichsmarks and countless lives searching for places such as Atlantis, Mu, Hyperborea and other lost civilizations that they believed might hold the origins of the Aryan race. Members included people such as Rudolf Hess, Hans Frank, Goring, Himmler and, probably, Hitler.”

The Hawaiian pinched the bridge of his nose. “I guess they were serious about their lost kingdoms.”

“They were more serious about their Aryan origins. But are they the prime threat here today or tomorrow? I think not.”

Dahl shifted in his seat. “I’m guessing you have more than just idle speculation on that front.”

Drake held up a hand. “In the Queen’s English he means ‘which one?’ ”

Dahl furrowed his rows. “Since when did the Queen come from bloody Yorkshire?”

“Since your wife came to DC, started keeping you up all night, and turned you into a whipping boy.”

Dahl rounded on Drake. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business!”

“You’re not denying it then.”

Dahl gritted his teeth. Hayden intervened. “In answer to both questions — yes. We’re taking the Pythians most seriously. In fact, more seriously than any other threat in recent memory.”

That made Drake do a double take. What? Why?

“We already know they’re recruiting big. Trying to make a name for themselves. Not interested in staying secret. They’re the new breed, the very real face of terror that no longer wants to hide behind a mask. But we don’t believe they’re terrorists as such, they’re power-mongers, intent on pulling the strings that make the world turn. We gathered as much from Zoya’s notes and the interrogations of mercenaries rejected or hired by their network. We know they have unlimited funds, government-level resources and leverage the like of which we’ve never seen, not even with Kovalenko. We know they’re searching into the legend of Pandora, though in what way we can only guess. Maybe it all leads toward this ‘greatest mystery of all time’.”

“It doesn’t necessarily make them more dangerous than the next bunch of crazies on our list,” Mai said gently.