The Devil's Triangle

by Catherine Coulter

  Grant dropped to the deck in front of them. “What’s the right heading?”

  Amos said, “Straight on, then maybe angle ten degrees south.”

  They slowed when they were far enough away, and all of them looked back to watch the volcano’s show. The electromagnetic field had been knocked out for good. What would the volcano do? How much damage? Nicholas knew ash clouds were bad. But there was miles and miles of open sea around the island.

  He said to Mike, “Jason Kohath saved us. I couldn’t do anything without his palm and his iris—he stayed alive long enough for me to get the storm stopped.” He paused. “I’ve never seen anything so crazy in my life. It was a huge storm cloud and it was so close to the coastline and then suddenly, it broke up and was gone. I accessed Jason Kohath’s files, he gave me permission.

  “One more thing.” He called out, “Kitsune, thank you for saving my life.”

  She looked at him, held close to Mike, and gave him a huge smile.

  Once back at the Albatross, Rafael looked at the crowd and shook his head. “I’ve already got Captain Snelling and Aldo inside. I can’t fit the rest of you, we’ll go down.”

  They heard a huge roar coming from the island.

  “You woke up El Diablo,” he said.

  Mike threw back her head and shouted, “Isn’t it a good thing that the devil doesn’t have long arms? We’re safe.”

  Nicholas said to Rafael, “Can you take five?”

  “I can try, if they’re skinny enough.”

  “They are,” Nicholas said.

  He watched Mike hug Amos, whisper to him, hug him again.

  “What?”

  “Amos is from Horton, Nebraska, close to Omaha. I told him to call my dad, he’ll see he gets a good job.”

  They shook Grant’s hand. Then Nicholas turned to Kitsune and took her red blistered hands in his, leaned in close. “Thank you for my life. Again. And, Kitsune? Next time you want to steal a biblical artifact, think long and hard.” And he handed her up to her husband.

  “Go, Rafael. Mike and I will wait here for you to come back for us.” Because he and Mike were Rafael’s meal ticket, he knew he’d come back, and be sharp about it. They stood together in the boat, waving as Rafael skimmed over the waves, gained speed, and lifted into the air, heading back to Cuba.

  Nicholas looked back at the ash cloud rising high into the air. His shirt was nearly ripped off, his pants were torn and filthy, and everything hurt, his head, his hands, even his hair. He didn’t even think he’d have energy for a shower; sleeping for a week was what he wanted most in the world.

  As for Mike, her hair was straggling around her face, streaked with ash, her face as dirty as his, her clothes just as torn and filthy. She looked beautiful. She was smiling up at him and how could she smile? After all this, and yet she was smiling. She lightly touched her fingertips to his cheek. “How long do you think Rafael will take to get back here?”

  “An hour, maybe less.”

  “Nicholas, did you see James Bond movies when you were a kid?”

  “Never missed one. But my favorites were the old Sean Connery ones. Why?”

  “Did you see the one where James and the heroine are alone in a boat waiting to be rescued?”

  “Oh, yes, I think they were supposed to be in the Sea of Japan, but I found out it was filmed off Bermuda. Unfortunately, I also remember a submarine came up under their Zodiac, and they were busted.”

  Mike shaded her eyes, did a complete 360. “I don’t see any submarines.”

  Nicholas thought about all the unexpected twists his life had taken, how his life was now intertwined with people he hadn’t known the year before, good people, people who would fight until they had no more breath. He realized he cherished life more this moment than he ever had. Both he and Mike were alive, they’d made it. He grinned. “Well, then.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-ONE

  Mysore Base

  Gobi Desert

  2006

  Helen Kohath shielded her eyes from the setting sun. She stood over a large pit, being shored up by her foreman, Dr. Thomas Zahn.

  “Thomas, how much longer?”

  “I’m going as fast as I can, Helen. We don’t dare move quicker, the whole desert could collapse in on us.”

  “I know it’s here. I can feel it.”

  And she could. Her ears buzzed with it. She hadn’t needed the spectrometer, she was able to stand right over the spot where the Ark was resting and sense the energy flowing up through her feet into her body, flooding her brain with light and flashes of long-ago memories, memories that weren’t hers, but maybe those of long-ago ancestors whose blood she carried. She saw a mass of people walking, pulling carts, carrying children—the flash was gone, but she knew to her soul it was an original memory. When she was one with the Ark, she would see everything, understand everything.

  She felt incredibly blessed, and impatient. So many years she’d waited for this moment, prayed for this moment. She stood motionless, watching, saying over and over under her breath: Come on, come on, come on.

  It was hot, small, biting flies buzzed around her head, the sand kept falling back into the pit, but finally, finally, they had the sands moved away and the pit reinforced.

  Thomas whispered, “It’s here, Helen. It’s here. There’s a crate, it’s marked with a simple cross, just a cross, nothing else. Come see.”

  She closed her eyes in a silent prayer, then walked to the edge of the pit. The buzzing grew stronger. “Do any of you hear that?”

  Blank faces stared at her. So it was only her. The Ark of the Covenant was hers alone.

  “Bring it out.” Saying the words aloud made her tremble.

  They’d long perfected the rope pulley system and the crate was quickly brought up. Brown and orange scorpions fell from the wood and scrambled away. They set the crate gently on the ground.

  She heard her crews’ excited voices and the deepening roar of the approaching storm. Then all eyes turned to her as she waved away the crowbar Thomas held out to her. She lightly laid her palm on the lid. And it came up with barely a sound, only a slight crack of the wood. The buzzing was growing louder, nearly a high whine now. She smoothed her hands over the rest of the wood and it simply fell away. She knew all her crew believed the wood was rotted, and simply touching was all that was necessary. But the wood wasn’t rotted at all. Helen saw gold flash in the sunlight and her heart nearly stopped beating.

  Two golden cherubim, wings outstretched, hovered protectively over the top of the Ark, almost as if they were crying. She reached out her hand to touch them, perhaps to comfort them, to let them know she was here.

  “I’ve found you at last,” she whispered. “You’re with me as it was meant to be.”

  Thomas whispered at her elbow, “It’s beautiful.”

  The crew broke into spontaneous applause, calling and cheering. “You’ve done it, madam. You’ve found the Ark!”

  Helen held up a hand for silence. She shouldn’t do this here, she shouldn’t do this now, not in front of these people who shouldn’t even be seeing this blessed gift God had preserved for millennia, but the Ark was calling her from deep inside, low, vibrant, insistent. Helen, Helen. Helen.

  Thomas leaned forward to help her, but she waved him back. He believed the lid was heavy? She smiled as she laid her hand on it, felt it pulse, felt it breathe. She pushed at the lid with her finger. It slid off as if she’d struck it, and crashed to the sands. A piece of a cherubim’s wing broke off.

  She’d heard their surprise when she’d lifted the lid so easily, heard their gasps when the cherubim’s wing broke off. She saw fear in their eyes, of some possible biblical curse? Of her? Thomas bent down to pick up the wing.

  “No! Don’t touch it, Thomas.”

  He straightened slowly, his eyes never leaving her face. Her friend for many years, her occasional lover, Thomas Zahn, brilliant, dedicated, had always been at her side. He’d been her confidant and she saw he was upset because s
he was shutting him out.

  She raised her hand. “No, don’t worry. The lid flew off because gases had built up, nothing more.” A lie, but how were they to know? “We’ll repair the wing. It’s okay.” Some of them looked away from her. The others, did they believe her? It didn’t matter.

  She knelt in front of the box and looked inside. The Ark sat on the golden shell. It was small, smaller than she’d believed it would be, even though she’d long ago memorized the biblical measures.

  She saw the lid closed with strings of rope. With a finger, she traced the old ropes and they sprung free at her touch. The lid of the Ark lifted, and a glow as bright as the desert sun wreathed her face. Its warmth was like a soft caress against her flesh. It grew more intense, a burning bright light, but she didn’t have to close her eyes against it, no, she leaned closer, breathed it in, thousands of years of an ancient life force, flowing into her. She bathed in it, let it fill her, let it settle.

  A voice filled her, neither male nor female, human or beast, it was a thousand voices at once, but only one, and it reverberated like echoes of chimes through her entire body.

  Helen Kohath. Your family was chosen at the beginning, the blessed ones, the only ones to guard me, but still I was lost. You found me and now you must protect me, keep me safe. Not your children, for they would use my power against the earth. No one but you can ever see me. Only you are worthy to guard me.

  Take me away where none will find me. Those here cannot be allowed to tell the world of my existence. Do it.

  She closed her eyes, the words flowing through her, and she said with no hesitation, “Like the Kohaths before me, I was ordained to watch over you and I will, I swear it.”

  “Helen? Helen!” Thomas was shouting in her ear, pulling on her arm.

  The thousand-single-voice commanded, Do it, Helen. Do it now. The voice stilled, the brilliant light faded, the lid slapped shut. She was suddenly back in the Gobi Desert, facing her crew, all of them gaping at her, fear and awe on their faces. And Thomas, dear Thomas, now a stranger to her.

  She rose, and brushed the sand off her pants. She was Helen Kohath, the leader of this group. “Thomas, load the Ark on the truck. Fashion a new crate for it, this old wood is rotted through. Find the piece of wing, it slipped into the pit. Good job, everyone.” She paused only an instant, before smiling at them all. “Thank you for all your hard work, the world will be at our feet when we return.” She looked over Thomas’s shoulder. “We must hurry. We have less than two hours before the sandstorm is on us.”

  Her voice sounded entirely normal, slightly excited, appropriate to the situation. Thomas continued studying her face. “What was inside the Ark, Helen?”

  She smiled. “A great sweetness, Thomas, a great welcoming. Don’t let anyone try to open it again. Let’s get it packed up and on the truck before the storm hits.”

  She stepped away, watched her crew follow her orders, everyone excited, moving quickly.

  It took less than an hour to pack the Ark into a newly built crate and get it into the bed of the truck. She memorized all their faces, she never wanted to forget them and knew she wouldn’t. They would become part of her.

  Thomas brought her the wing fragment. She held it in her arms and saw the small lettering along the edge, and read the warning.

  Through this door lies a weapon of great power. Open it, and it will indeed kill.

  She looked at Thomas’s dear face, at all their faces, so happy, so excited, some of them staring at her, obviously worried, filled with questions, and she simply knew she couldn’t do it, she couldn’t kill these people whose lives were so close entwined with hers, even with the voice telling her to, commanding her to, even with the knowledge that one word from any of them and the precious Ark could once again be in danger, and lost for millennia yet again.

  Still, she couldn’t do it.

  She stood silently. The babble of voices grew louder in her head, so many, yet only one, and it was neither male nor female, and it was so very calm, mesmerizing and reassuring, saying words, strange words she didn’t understand, over and over, but not to her. No, these words were not meant for her.

  Her people didn’t hesitate. One by one, she watched them kneel down in a long straight line. Thomas smiled at her even as he knelt beside them, and bowed his head as all the others had. And she watched them simply fall forward on their faces.

  She felt for a pulse in each throat. They were all dead. She closed her eyes, said a prayer, but knew in her soul that the Ark would somehow enfold them and cherish them for their sacrifice.

  Helen secured the site. She took the broken cherubim’s wing, and a map she’d drawn inside a soil core, and dropped them into the pit for Cassandra and Ajax to find sometime in the future, as she now knew they would, as it was meant for them to. And they would act on what was deep inside them, what drove them to be what and who they were, and she knew what would happen. No way to escape that. A great lie, all a great lie, she knew, although she now couldn’t remember what her hand had written on the map. Perhaps the words would foster goodness and truth in her children, even as she despaired. Please, she prayed, please. She looked back at her dead team, wiped the tears from her face, and drove off, alone, toward her destiny.

  The sandstorm whipped the desert into a frenzy, but the flying sands never touched the truck.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-TWO

  Cuba

  Present Day

  When Rafael made his second landing at the Preston airfield and taxied toward the FBI Gulfstream, Nicholas and Mike saw that Clancy, Trident, Adam, and Louisa were standing by the stairs, clapping and cheering.

  The Albatross rolled to a smooth stop and a beaming Rafael dashed out, waved, then waited for Mike and Nicholas. Everyone was on an obvious high, yelling questions, telling them what they already knew, but from the other’s perspectives. And now it was their turn, and on and on it went, Nicholas and Mike smiling and laughing.

  Adam said, “Mr. Zachery will never believe this.”

  “Sure he will,” Nicholas said, “I kept him up to date on everything that was going on, well, most of it—”

  “Some of it—when he had to,” Mike said, “but we have yet to make the last call, assure him the world will survive another day.”

  Finally, everyone was running down. Adam was shaking his head. “I still can’t believe it. Even from here we knew when the volcano blew, only now is the ash beginning to dissipate and the winds are carrying it out into the Atlantic.”

  Nicholas said, “Where are Captain Snelling and Aldo?”

  Adam said, “Captain Snelling and Aldo paid one of the workers to drive them to Havana. As for Kitsune and Grant, a Blue Mountain Gulfstream landed about a half hour ago. You told me to keep Grant’s people informed and I did. They took Grant and Kitsune, lifted back off within a few minutes. We don’t know where they went. At least we got to say goodbye.”

  “I can’t believe they just left,” Mike said.

  Nicholas shook his head at her. “You really didn’t expect to see them here waiting for us, now did you, Mike?”

  No, she hadn’t, but that wasn’t the point. She got in his face. “You knew she and Grant would be gone when we got back, didn’t you? If Blue Mountain hadn’t come, they’d still be gone. And you already said goodbye to her.”

  “Yes, I did. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you’d want to say goodbye to her, too. Did you?”

  It was hard to be pissed at him when he smiled at her like that, when she still felt so mellow and yet remarkably energized. But the fact was, she owed Kitsune, she owed her more than she could ever repay, and she’d wanted to tell her that, tell her she owed her big-time, forever.

  She cocked her head to one side. “The thing is, Nicholas, I really would have liked to have said goodbye to Grant. He’s incredible, isn’t he? All rough and tough and don’t-mess-with-me.” She gave a little shake. “Imagine, having him sharing some of his adventures with me—”

  She got him, she s
aw it, even though the let me kill him look was gone in an instant. He said, all bonhomie, “You know, Mike, I wish I could have talked to him more, too.”

  She gave him a little bow and turned to Adam, eyebrow raised. “I don’t suppose you’ll ever tell us where Kitsune and Grant live?”

  Adam said, “You’d have to make me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

  No, Mike knew Adam would never talk.

  Louisa said, “I expected you two to look like crap, ripped clothes, all banged up, some burns here and there, split lips, and that’s all true—” She paused, frowning at them. “But you both look so happy and so relaxed . . .”

  Then her eyes popped, and she started to laugh. She walked over to Adam and said something to him. He shot Mike and Nicholas a look, nodded. “Oh yeah, I bet that isn’t going in their report to Zachery.”

  Nicholas clapped his hands. “All right, that’s quite enough. All of you, get on the plane. I’ll be right with you after I’ve conducted some business with our pilot.”

  Nicholas set into motion all the promises they’d made to Rafael Guzman.

  Rafael didn’t leave until he watched them fly out of his sight in their new Gulfstream before he pulled out his cell phone and called his wife to tell her to pack for Miami, they wouldn’t be coming back to Cuba.

  Once they were airborne, everyone fed, watered, and snuggled in with blankets and pillows, Mike pulled Helen Kohath’s notebook out of her jacket pocket.

  Nicholas stared from her to the notebook. “I thought it went into the lava. How did you get hold of it?”

  “It was lying on the grate at the end of the catwalk. I thought it had fallen out of your pocket.”

  “I never had it. Cassandra, she must have dropped it.”

  “I only saw her carrying the cherubim’s wing. Well, in any case, I grabbed it up on our race to the boat.”

  Louisa called out, “Kitsune said something about Helen Kohath’s notebook being in the vault, said she didn’t know what happened to it. What’s in it, Mike? Adam, wake up, it’s from Helen Kohath, you want to hear this.”