Текст книги "The Lost Key"

Автор книги: Catherine Coulter

Соавторы: J. T. Ellison
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Текущая страница: 23 (всего у книги 27 страниц)

76

He realized this small compartment must have been completely sealed and airtight, dry for a hundred years, until Havelock had forced the hatch open. The body was mummified, almost perfectly preserved, wearing the uniform of a German naval Kapitänleutnant, the uniform cloth still a deep pure black.

But there was no mistaking the long, flowing hair. A woman. No woman should be aboard a sub, impossible, so what did this mean?

Her mummified body would soon be reduced to bones like the rest of the small crew. She hadn’t drowned, he realized, she’d starved to death, trapped in the ship’s womb, unable to get help for herself or her shipmates.

The names Alex Shepherd had said—Josef and Ansonia.

Had he found the Ansonia from Pearce’s files?

And suddenly, the bits and pieces from the Highest Order’s files started to make sense.

He floated in the water, staring at her, her body slowly rising, nearly to his outstretched hand now. He saw that her left hand was missing. Nicholas realized that as she lay dying, she’d held the key and Curie’s book in that hand and Havelock had snapped it right off.

He heard a tapping noise. It was Halpern. He looked down at his dive computer. Halpern was warning him. He’d started with sixty minutes of air and planned to spend only fifteen minutes in the sub, but that hadn’t happened. He’d spent too much time inside.

He swam slowly and carefully so as not to stir up more of the blinding silt, past the skulls, as he emerged out the enlarged torpedo hole. He felt suddenly like he’d been released from hell itself, and breathed deeply. He looked up, searching for fins and bubbles, but he didn’t see Halpern. Instead, he saw a white flash of metal, bearing down on him, four lights shining in his eyes, the water churning around it.

It was Havelock’s submersible. It looked straight out of a science fiction movie, like a giant metal bug, with three large portholes like eyes along the bottom.

Nicholas grabbed up his propulsion device to get away, but it was no match for Havelock’s submersible.

He saw the submersible had stopped. Had Havelock decided it wasn’t worth the time to try to run him down?

He prayed Halpern had escaped and he was already on his way to the surface to warn Mike. Nicholas knew he couldn’t get to Havelock down here, he had to get back up top. Suddenly the submersible shot past him, clipping his foot as it passed, knocking him around in a lazy circle.

Havelock had changed his mind. The submersible was turning to come at him again. He had to get to the surface now, but he couldn’t move. The submersible had shot off a net, trapping his legs.

He pulled his dive knife out of the sheath on his thigh and began sawing at the ropes. He sensed movement out of the corner of his mask, looked up to see a diver bearing down on him, a knife in his hand.

As the man swam closer, Nicholas saw through the face mask a scar bisecting the man’s eye and cheek, and a rictus of a smile around the regulator in his mouth. It wasn’t Havelock.

This must be the man März.

Had he come off the submersible? Yes, that was why Havelock had backed off for a moment. Nicholas swam backward and up, still sawing on the ropes.

Nicholas realized März didn’t want to get into a knife fight, he wanted to cut Nicholas’s air hose.

The submersible was backing away, its lights growing dimmer. Nicholas hoped März hadn’t killed Halpern.

Nicholas used his DPD as a shield as März came at him and kept cutting away the net on his legs. Finally, he kicked free of the netting as März swam over him, knife ready to slice through the tubing on Nicholas’s back. Nicholas corkscrewed in the water and thrust his own knife at März’s thigh as he swam past.

He missed.

März grabbed Nicholas’s tank and got his arm around his neck. He cut through the air hose to Nicholas’s regulator, sending a cloud of bubbles bursting upward. Nicholas twisted, felt März’s knife slash through his dry suit and into his arm, then his knee struck Nicholas’s hand and he dropped his knife. Nicholas managed to jerk free and swing his DPD around, hitting März in the face, shoving him backward.

There was a sudden whooshing sound and Nicholas could swear he saw a torpedo shoot through the water not six feet away.

He couldn’t begin to understand what was happening. He was running out of breath. He grabbed for the secondary regulator on his shoulder, but he didn’t have time to suck in a breath. März turned a tight somersault and reversed fast, right in Nicholas’s face, his knife up and ready. Nicholas punched his fist into his mask, knocking it half off his face, then he ripped the mask all the way off, and caught März’s face between his hands. He shoved his thumbs into his eyes and pushed, hard.

There was a loud boom. The concussion tumbled both men backward, grappling for a hold on each other.

Nicholas heard the screech of metal, but he knew Havelock hadn’t sent a torpedo into the sub, otherwise the concussion of the blast would have killed them.

So who had fired at what?

Nicholas’s arm was bleeding, he was getting light-headed but knew if he passed out, he’d be dead. He grabbed März’s foot, and jerked him backward, until he was able to flip him around. März struggled even as the stirred-up silt blinded him. He got his thumbs into März’s eyes again and squeezed. A moment later, he felt something give way.

März jerked and danced in his hands, ribbons of blood curling around their heads. Nicholas ripped the regulator from März’s mouth, and sucked in air. Then he held März’s body between his legs and twisted his neck until he heard the crack of bone. He shoved his secondary air in his mouth, took a huge breath, and let go of März. He was facing Nicholas as he fell away, his eyes black holes, his head now dangling sideways. Nicholas watched his body hang limp in the water before slowly, slowly gliding downward.

Nicholas checked his air tank. His air was low, too low, but he hoped there was enough to make a decompression stop on the way up.

He started a slow ascent, carefully breathing in and out. Mike suddenly appeared in his brain, arms crossed over her chest, tapping her foot. Was she calling him a lamebrain? A set of fins came into view. It was Halpern, he was alive and waiting for him. He’d never been happier to see someone in his life.

Nicholas saw the air gauge on his dive computer was flashing red. He made a cut across his throat. Halpern quickly gave him his own regulator, and pointed to his dive watch, signaled three minutes.

Nicholas pointed to his arm where blood snaked into the water, and Halpern grabbed on to him. They hung quietly, off-gassing for a full three minutes, sharing the regulator back and forth.

Together they rose in an octopus ascent, skimming gently higher and higher, minute by minute, careful and smart, hanging still for another agonizing three minutes, then finally broke the surface. Nicholas saw the Dover not fifty feet away, and the men on deck shouting to them. Nicholas followed their pointing fingers and saw that Havelock’s ship, the Gravitania, was on fire, raging flames amidships, her nose now pointing to the sky. He watched as she slipped silently into the sea.

77

9:00 p.m.

Mike paced the deck of the HMS Dover, watching for Nicholas and Halpern. She’d had a firsthand view of everything Nicholas saw until März attacked. The initial impact had knocked the camera free. She’d never been so afraid in her life. She prayed, promising every good deed she could think of if only the right men would surface. She wouldn’t believe März had won.

The sun was gone, the air brisk and cool. They were using the ship’s big lights to scan the water. A young sailor joined her. “Ma’am? The captain’s asked for you. We have a hit on our sonar. We believe it’s the submersible you’re looking for.”

The Dover had steamed into the loch at the same moment Nicholas and März faced off. They’d gotten both Mike and Shepherd off the Gravitania, and onto the deck of the Dover. Shepherd was being treated in their sick bay, and Mike had briefed the ship’s captain. He’d immediately set to work looking for Havelock’s submersible. And now they’d found it.

Captain Kinsley showed her the spot on the screen. “It came from that narrow strip of land over there about five minutes ago. We can take it out with a single shot, it’s not moving fast enough to outrun us.”

“You’re sure it isn’t Drummond and Halpern?”

“It’s too big to be men, it’s displacing too much water, and moving at about four knots. I’m sure it’s not divers.”

But they could be close, she thought, too close, and she closed her eyes against the possibility. She gave it only a moment’s thought. The key didn’t matter, killing Havelock eliminated the threat of the micro-nukes.

“Light it up, Captain. The man on that submersible is an enemy of both our countries.”

He smiled, signaled to his man, who said, “Firing, firing, firing,” and the torpedo was free. It hissed away, and there was an impact. Mike felt the concussion.

“Direct hit, sir. The submersible is down.”

Havelock was dead. It was over.

A second explosion, this one from above the water, made them all rush to the rails. The Gravitania was on fire, flames spreading through the ship as if following a trail of gasoline.

Mike shouted, “Did you hit it, did the torpedo hit the ship and not the submersible?”

The captain shook his head. “The torpedo was on a completely different path. That explosion was internal to the ship, not external. And there’s no one aboard, so it was probably on a timer of some sort. You didn’t see a bomb on board?”

Mike shook her head, realized her hands were shaking. They’d been plucked off the Gravitania and brought on board the Dover only twenty-two minutes before.

Everyone but Mike watched the ship sink. She was staring down at the water. She knew how much air they had, and it was gone. She had to face it, Nicholas and Halpern hadn’t made it.

The surface of the water began to bubble. When she saw Nicholas’s head break the water, she didn’t say a word, so grateful, she stood mute, heart pounding, thinking over and over, You did it, James Bond, you did it.

–

NICHOLAS AND HALPERN were chilled to the bone. The medics from the Dover wrapped both men in special heat-trapping blankets, stitched Nicholas’s arm, dropped a pain pill down his gullet. When they finally let Mike in to see him, she went straight to his bed and hugged him hard, and kissed him. His lips were cold, his teeth chattering, but he grinned at her.

Mike said, “Didn’t we have a talk about you pulling death-defying stunts? You scared me to death.”

Nicholas ran a hand over her hair, rested it on the back of her neck. “At one point down there I saw you clear as day—did you call me a lamebrain?”

“Not this time, I was too scared. You’re all right, Nicholas, you’re all right.”

“I’ve got to admit I didn’t think I was going to make it up, and I wouldn’t have if not for Ryan.” He called out across the sick bay, “I owe you one, Ryan, you saved me. What was the explosion? Tell me what happened above water.”

“They hit the submersible with a torpedo. If Havelock was still in it, he’s dead.”

“So I didn’t dream it, then? I thought I saw a torpedo whiz by. Havelock dead? Somehow I can’t quite come to grips with that. I have a lot to tell you.” He realized he was still holding her close and pulled his hand away. She didn’t move for another moment, then slowly straightened, and he told her about the billions of dollars in gold bars in the sub, about the woman he’d found in her own private tomb. He mentioned briefly März’s attack once he came out of the sub. After they thrashed it all out, she pushed him again about März. Nicholas said only, “He knifed my arm, but in the end, I killed him. As for the key and Curie’s book, Havelock took them.”

“Do you think this was the woman Shepherd spoke of? Ansonia?”

“I do. Is Shepherd awake? I’d like to hear more.”

“Shepherd was in and out of consciousness the whole time you were down. He’s messed up pretty bad. They had no choice but to operate, possible because they’ve got a small operating room on board.” She looked at her watch. “They took him in for surgery maybe twenty minutes ago. It’s going to be a while before he’s coherent enough to talk.”

“Has there been word on Adam and Sophie?”

Mike shook her head. “I would assume they’re probably off on this phantom boat Shepherd talked about, with Weston and Havelock’s whipstress. But there’s been no sign of it.”

“His what?”

“I made it up. Sounds fitting, doesn’t it?”

He burst out laughing, startling the medics, who rushed over to make sure he was okay. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Agent Caine’s a comic, that’s all.”

The captain strode into the sick bay. “We’re receiving some sort of distress signal from that long piece of land and someone’s waving a white flag at us. We’re sending a boat over, and the chopper for support, in case. We’ll have whoever it is on board shortly.”

They heard the chopper’s rotors whining, heard it lift off, and they waited.

78

HMS Dover

9:30 p.m.

After a reluctant nod from his captain, the medic unhooked Nicholas from his IV and discharged him from sick bay. He and Mike went up onto the deck of the Dover to watch the rescue.

The lights of the chopper swung crazily along the coast of Loch Eriboll, the granite cliffs shining white in the beams of light. A small rescue craft scooted over the water, sending out ripples across the surface. The chopper hovered, spinning up debris and rocks, then set down next to the hut.

Five minutes later, the boat was headed back, no shots fired, no trouble at all. When the boat drew close enough, Mike let out a shout. “It’s Sophie Pearce!”

She was a mess, bedraggled, bruised, exhausted, still wearing Alex Shepherd’s shirt, the gauze bandage still wrapped tightly across her back, but she managed to climb the ladder to the deck of the Dover. Both Nicholas and Mike wanted to speak to her, but a medic said, “Nope, first we take care of her.”

Sophie smiled at the medic towering over her. “A moment, please.” Before he could answer, she grabbed Mike’s arm. “You have to go after Havelock. He took Adam with him.”

Mike said, “Please tell me you don’t mean Havelock took Adam down in the submersible.”

“No, no, he forced Adam to go with him on his helicopter.”

Mike’s blood pressure dropped back to normal. She’d been scared Nicholas would be too close to the submersible when she’d given the order to fire the torpedo. She hadn’t even thought of Adam.

“Okay, then, that means Havelock set the submersible on automatic and sent it back into the loch. And then the Dover blew it up—it was all a diversionary tactic.”

“Sophie, where did Havelock take Adam?” Nicholas asked her. “Where did they go?”

“To get Madame Curie’s weapon. Havelock has the key and the book, he can open the lock now. We have to stop him, please, you have to save Adam.”

“Sophie, what lock? A lock to a door? Where did they go?”

Sophie stopped cold. “You mean you don’t know where Curie’s weapon is?”

“No, do you?”

Sophie shook her head. “All I know is it’s probably somewhere in Paris.”

79

Quai d’Anjou

Paris

Midnight

Havelock arrived at his house on the Quai d’Anjou just before midnight. He hurried inside with his package, still unopened, his hands shaking in excitement. He couldn’t believe he finally had both the key and the book.

Elise forced Adam to a second-floor room, a Beretta against his spine, and locked him in. She joined Havelock in his study, and together they spread the mummified fingers. Havelock carefully, gently, pried the package from the palm.

He had no idea how a woman came to be on the sub, nor why she was sealed in the waterproof compartment, nor did he care. All he knew was she’d held in death the gift of a lifetime.

The package was wrapped in thick oilskin, protected as best they could manage. He eased the edges apart, but the old wrapping paper inside crumbled at his touch. And there was the key, long, heavy, brown with rust. It had an ornate bow with a series of interlocking four-cornered fleurs-de-lis, a thick, twisted shank, and a dual bit with a complicated series of bit wards etched into the metal. It wasn’t an everyday key for Curie’s time, it was a key meant to protect as well as deter.

Havelock caressed the key with long trembling fingers, felt its weight in his palm, then finally, he set it gently on the desk. He turned to the book, encased in a separate waterproof pouch. The cover was black, the book slender, the edges rounded. He slipped on soft white gloves. If there was anything he’d learned from Pearce, it was how to deal with very old pages.

He slid his finger beneath the cover and lifted gently. The pages inside were yellow and the words were in French. Curie’s handwriting was faded but legible.

His heart pounded. With the book and the microgram of intensely amplified polonium, polonium that she’d managed to make grow stronger over time, he was ready. It was waiting for him in her lab to formulate a new kind of atom to be added to his bombs. And then he would own the world, nothing and no one could stop him.

He wondered, what should he name his new compound? Curie had named polonium after her beloved Poland. He felt no such love of homeland.

Havelockium?

He giggled. No, better to wait until he witnessed the new element in action, then he’d give it a proper name.

He turned carefully to the last page of the book. He saw a series of numbers and letters.

19 . G . 13 . R

There it was, the directions to Curie’s lab. He read the letters and numbers again. What was this? It made no sense, there was no address like this in Paris. Then he realized what the letters and numbers meant, and smiled. What a clever woman.

She was about to make him the most famous man on the planet.

He turned to Elise with a manic smile, pulled her into his arms, and danced her around the room, spinning her as they swirled and dipped. When he ferried her back across the room to the desk, he released her reluctantly. “Who would have imagined her hidden address would be so ingenious? And yet it makes sense—nineteen, G, thirteen, R. How very brilliant she was.”

Elise cocked her head to the side. “Nineteen, G, thirteen, R? What do the numbers and letters mean?”

“It always made sense to me her secret lab had to be here since this was her home. But you see, Elise, her lab wasn’t in Paris, it was under Paris. Her lab is in the tunnels. And now, my dear, I must go. You stay here and guard the boy. If he does anything you don’t like, feel free to kill him. I will be back before dawn.”

Elise saw his eyes were glittering, his pupils dilated, his excitement was that huge. She leaned up and kissed him on the neck, bit him deep, then licked the blood. “Be careful,” she said.

He stared at her mouth, at his own blood slicked over her lips. No, no, it wouldn’t do to celebrate too early. But later, later.

He made a brief phone call. The man answered on the first ring.

“Allo?”

Havelock spoke in rapid French. “I have the key and the directions. Bring the lamps and tools. I’ll meet you at the Sorbonne, then we’re going to the sixth arrondissement.”

“Oui, d’accord. Five minutes.”

Havelock hung up, stashed the cell in his pocket. He popped a handful of potassium iodide pills, gently eased the book and the key inside a small backpack, along with a Maglite and a bottle of water. Elise walked him to the door, kissed him again, and he set off into the dark Parisian night.

80

Over the Channel

Paris

11:00 p.m.

Captain Kinsley arranged to chopper the three of them down to RAF Tain, north of Inverness, where the PM’s Hawker was waiting to fly them not to London, but directly to Paris.

They left Shepherd behind, but took Sophie with them. She still had a lot to tell them. Nicholas wasn’t taking any chances with her safety, not now.

During the chopper ride to Inverness, Mike called Zachery and explained what was happening and where they were headed. She didn’t mention how close Nicholas had come to being killed.

Zachery gave them his consent, and thirty minutes later, they were off to Paris.

Once they were settled in with food and drink, Nicholas leaned forward, studied Sophie’s face. “How do you feel?”

“I’m fine, really. I only want to find Adam.”

She was probably telling the truth—both of them were feeling little discomfort, he thought, thanks to the pain meds swimming in their bloodstreams. His arm was sore, but the pain was tamped down.

He said, “Tell us what happened when you landed on the Gravitania. With Shepherd.”

She accepted a cup of hot tea from Mike, took a sip, then another. She sighed. “I was wrong about Alex. He was trying to protect me the whole time. He was working for the Order, reporting to Alfie Stanford. Then Stanford was murdered and Weston took over. But he also trusted Weston not only because he was a member of the Order, but because he was high-ranking in MI Five. Alex didn’t know Weston had joined forces with Havelock until we were leaving Weston’s estate near Oxford. Alex told Weston Adam had found the sub. He set the wheels in motion without meaning to.

“When we were on board the Gravitania, he came to our cabin to help us escape.” She told them of the fight, how Weston had shot Alex and März had thrown him off the boat, and taken her and Adam to the hut on the mainland. She paused. “Thank you for saving Alex.”

Mike said, “He didn’t give up. He’ll be okay,” and she hoped she was right.

Sophie drank more tea. “There are limestone caves right below that skinny slice of land, close to the hut. Havelock brought the submersible right into the edge of the caves—there’s a deep bay there, and a small dock. You can’t see it unless you’re right on top of it.

“Adam and I watched Weston help Havelock climb out of the sub, and he looked like some sort of mad scientist. He had something in his hands and I knew he’d found the key and Curie’s book. He told Weston and Elise that März had gotten himself killed. All he did was shrug and say, ‘It’s a pity. März served me well.’ And then he sent the submersible back into the loch. I think it had some sort of remote control. We heard an explosion. And Havelock laughed and called them fools. We didn’t hear him say anything about the gold.”

“Do you know,” Nicholas said, “I don’t think Havelock even saw the gold, he was so focused on getting the key and the book.”

“Was it an amazing sight, all that gold?”

“Yes, scores of bars. I don’t know how many.”

“So what happened after that?” Mike asked her.

“Havelock was in a hurry. He knew you’d be right behind him. Havelock took Weston, Elise, and Adam. They left me tied up. I remember thinking I was going to die in that hut, but then I saw a glass bottle lying in the corner and managed to break it. I used a shard to get my ropes cut off and signaled to you. And that’s the whole story.”

She fell silent. Nicholas watched her.

“Has Havelock gone to Paris because that’s where the weapon is?” Mike said.

Sophie nodded. “He took Adam with him because he’s not finished with hacking into all my father’s files. Alex told me killing Adam wasn’t part of the plan, at least until he had everything he can get from him.” She paused, then looked at Nicholas. “If Adam refuses to cooperate, Havelock will kill him, won’t he?”

“Not on my watch,” Nicholas said.

“Is there more, Sophie?” Mike asked.

“Oh, yes. I suppose I need to tell you everything now, don’t I?”

“Yes, start with the Highest Order in World War One,” Nicholas said.

Sophie drank more tea, then drew a deep breath. “It all started at the Battle of Verdun, with two men—William Pearce, Seventh Viscount Chambers and a German soldier named Josef Charles Rothschild, and his wife, Ansonia.”