Joe Hawke Series Boxsets 3

by Rob Jones

  He knew she wanted to talk about it but his mind was elsewhere. The Danny Devlins of this world were nothing to worry about when you were up against the likes of the Oracle and his secret cult.

  In his right pocket, he turned over the small box that contained the engagement ring he had bought back in Washington. It never seemed to be the right moment to ask her. Something always came up and kicked it along the track. “Come on,” he said at last. “We need to get some sleep if we’re going to wake up before dawn and find out what the big surprise is.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Hawke woke first. He had never needed an alarm clock to wake up early, and even as a child he was able to train himself to wake naturally at a precise time and usually got it right. Today was no exception and when he checked his watch he saw it was just before dawn.

  Even before he opened his eyes he was aware of Lea beside him, one of her arms over his chest. Reaper and Devlin were enjoying a less intimate arrangement and their two separate sleeping bags were either side of the entrance.

  He yawned and woke Lea. Moments later they were all outside the tent. Ryan and Kim were already outside.

  “And what about Cairo?” Hawke said, leaning inside her tent.

  “Piss off,” Scarlet said. A boot sailed past his head and thudded down in the muddy ground. “I’ve decided to have breakfast in bed.”

  “Get up,” Hawke said. “Now.”

  “But it’s still night.”

  “Dawn’s about to break, Cairo.”

  “All right, all right. Let’s get this show on the road, fuckers,” Scarlet said, clambering out of her tent. “Any sign of Zito?”

  “Not yet,” Ryan said.

  “Maybe Kloos kept his mouth shut,” Kim said, but not too convincingly.

  “Talking of Kloos,” Devlin said. “What did he say about this legend again?”

  Ryan climbed up on the highest granite slab of them all and looked out across the mountainous horizon. “He said that the son of Arianrhod will reveal where the Sword of Fire rests.”

  Hawke turned to Ryan. “And who might that be, mate?”

  “Arianrhod was an important part of ancient Celtic mythology, and the mother of Llew Llaw Gyffes,” Ryan said, lighting up a cigarette and flicking the match into the breeze.

  “Give us one of those, will you?” Scarlet said. “Smoked all mine.”

  He handed her one and took a deep drag on his own.

  Hawke watched Ryan’s eyes for a moment. A new coldness was moving in, for sure, but he wasn’t the boy’s father. Maybe when all this was over, he’d have a chat... “Who was that last bloke you just mentioned, mate?”

  “He was a major hero in Welsh mythology, tucked away deep in the fourth branch of the Mabinogi.” He breathed out another long cloud of smoke and sniffed. “Point is, he was symbolized by Perseus, the slayer of dragons. I was thinking about this all night and now I posit that the reference to the heavens in fact means stars. Jesus, I could do with a drink.”

  Hawke shot a quick sideways glance at the young man but said nothing.

  “So we’re looking for something in the stars?” Lea said.

  “A constellation?” Kim asked.

  Scarlet sighed. “No, a Klingon mothership. What do you think?”

  “Hey, I was just asking.”

  “Which one’s the Perseus constellation?” Lea said.

  “There,” Hawke said, raising his arm. “The bright star just there is Mirfak, the brightest star in the Perseus constellation.”

  “Most of these constellations have an important role to play in traditional Welsh mythology,” Ryan said. “The Milky Way was originally called the Fortress of Gwydion. Every one of these stars has a part to play in these ancient legends, including Perseus there.”

  They followed Perseus down to the horizon and one by one the stars in the constellation began to fade.

  “Look!” Lea said. “The Sword of Perseus is pointing precisely to that smaller peak down there.”

  “Craig y Castell,” Ryan said. “The tip of Perseus’s sword is pointing to Craig y Castell.”

  Then it happened.

  The sun broke the horizon in the northeast and struck the western slopes of the caldera directly beneath the peak of Craig y Castell. They watched in silence as one particular rock glowed almost as bright as the sun itself.

  “It faces the sun at dawn in such a way that it’s acting like a mirror,” Ryan said, shielding his eyes from the glinting, gleaming piece of smooth granite.

  “Looks like we found the tomb,” Hawke said.

  “So let’s get on it, people,” Ryan said.

  “Look who thinks he’s the big boss,” Scarlet said sarcastically.

  “I could be the big boss,” said Ryan, nodding his head firmly. “An apex predator.”

  Scarlet laughed. “You? You’re just the comic-relief sidekick.”

  Instead of a comeback, Ryan said nothing, and headed toward the ridge to the west of them. Hawke thought he looked offended by Scarlet’s comment, but let it go.

  They walked along the ridge and as the sun slowly climbed in the clear sky it illuminated the valleys either side of the mountain. Great oceans of emerald green farmland stretched out in every direction. They could see the famous Minffordd Path snaking its way up from a visitors’ car park, and Hawke followed its path as it twisted through forests and rushing rivers on its way up the slope.

  The massive lake to their right sparkled in the morning sun. The previous night Ryan had regaled them with ancient myths about how it was supposed to be bottomless but the reality was more prosaic: it was the caldera of a volcano that last burned in ancient times not long after the glaciers carved these valleys out of the landscape for eternity.

  Hawke looked at his watch. “Still no sign of Zito.”

  “Or that giant tank of shit, Kruger,” Scarlet said.

  “Just as well, eh?” Devlin said. No one had spoken about the night before, and Hawke wanted it kept that way. “Maybe we got lucky?”

  Hawke shook his head. “No way. Kruger won’t mess around with this. For one thing, I think he’s working for someone else and that someone else will want results. Failing your boss in Kruger’s world means more than a demotion or getting fired – it means your life, so he’ll do whatever he has to do to get what he needs out of Kloos. They’re here all right. It’s just a matter of time.”

  “You’re such a pessimist, Joe,” Lea said. “Maybe just this once we got a break?”

  “I’ll believe it when I see it,” he said.

  And then, just to prove him right, the destruction unfolded right in front of their eyes.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  The surface to air missile screeched down the center of the valley at Mach 3 and smashed into the caldera’s western slope. The resulting fireball was of Hollywood proportions, blasting tons of granite and earth out of the side of the mountain and scattering smoking detritus all over the slope. As the deep roar of the explosion echoed back down the valley like thunder, dislodged boulders tumbled down the mountain and crashed through the black surface of the lake far below.

  “Holy smokes!” Kim said, unable to take her eyes off the unfolding devastation. “What the hell was that?”

  Hawke was already on it, scanning the valley to the north with his binoculars. The deep folds of the pastoral farmland below was still untouched by the rising sun, but it was easy enough to track the smoke trail back to its origin. He was just able to make out a pair of black Jeep Cherokees on a track to the north of a smaller lake just beyond the main one in the caldera. “Around a dozen men,” he said. “Looks like the fireworks was provided by an Eryx.”

  “A what?” Kim said.

  Reaper replied. “Eryx – it’s a shoulder-launched missile. European. Of all the handheld weapons it has the biggest caliber.”

  “Right,” Hawke said. “And their warheads are easily capable of breaking open a concrete bunker seven or eight feet thick. The granite slab block
ing the entrance to the tomb in that mountain would be no match at all – as we all just saw.” He watched the Jeeps move along the track toward them.

  “So now what?” Kim said.

  “We’re still much closer to the entrance,” Devlin said. “Surely we can get in there and out again with the sword by the time they get up the mountain?”

  “No,” Hawke said. “Look.”

  The Jeeps had driven closer now and were pulling up around the northern shores of Llyn y Gader in the bowl of the caldera. Giancarlo Zito climbed out of the leading vehicle and gave them all a cheery wave. The Jeep’s other doors opened and then Bruno and another man dragged Henk Kloos out into the new day. He was badly beaten and had to be held up by the two Italians.

  The doors of the Jeep in the rear now opened and several more of Zito’s men got out. Armed like a militia, they looked out of place in the Welsh countryside, but then things cranked up another notch when a face they all knew and hated emerged from the front passenger seat.

  “Dirk Kruger,” Hawke said through gritted teeth.

  Scarlet dragged on her cigarette, as cool as ice, and stared at the South African. “That, my friends, is a face that invites a massive slap.”

  “What he needs is a few years in a Russian salt mine,” Reaper said.

  Another man stepped out behind Kruger and Hawke shook his head with disbelief.

  Lea noticed him bristle. “You know him, Joe?”

  “Yes. His name’s Vermaak. Last time we met was on a joint training exercise in Angola. He was a South African commando, but now it looks like he’s a mercenary.”

  Before anyone could respond, Dirk Kruger cupped his hands either side of his mouth and called up to them. His voice echoed weirdly as the horseshoe shape of the caldera acted as a giant soundbox and amplified his words.

  “How nice to see you all again,” he shouted. “Especially you, Mr Bale.”

  Hawke took a step forward ahead of the group and called back down. “You want to talk, you talk to me, Kruger.”

  “Major Hawke, the big hero...” Kruger looked around at Zito and the others and they gave a short laugh. “Listen up then, big hero: throw your guns and weapons into the lake or I’ll drown Doctor Kloos in it with my own two hands.”

  “He’s got us,” Reaper said.

  “Bullshit,” said Devlin. “We’re not going to roll over that easy now, are we?”

  “He’s right,” Hawke said. “We haven’t got a sniper rifle and even if we did we can’t take out that many men before they kill Kloos.”

  Devlin looked at Hawke. “But we’ve got to try something, dammit.”

  “I’m responsible for the safety of everyone on this mission,” Hawke said, “including Kloos. If I say it’s over then it’s over.”

  Lea was first to hurl her gun off the edge of the mountain. What was a heavy, chunky weapon in her hands was now a tiny, fragile piece of metal bouncing off the rocks with a light smack until it finally hit the lake and vanished forever.

  The others followed her lead until they were all unarmed.

  “That was awesome!” Kruger called up in a mocking tone. “Now walk over to the tomb’s entrance and wait like the good dogs you are until we come up.”

  Hawke watched the South African give a series of orders. From the body language it was clear to see that Kruger was the man in charge and Zito and his men were just the hired help.

  “Looks like we’d better do as he says,” Kim said. “We all know he’s capable of killing innocent people.”

  “We should fight,” Devlin said.

  “You’re crazy, Danny,” said Lea.

  “Just sayin’.”

  “No,” Hawke said. “Kim’s right. Any funny business and he’ll kill Kloos. We play along with his rules for now and bide our time.”

  “So what are we waiting for, girls?” Scarlet said. “Let’s get this thing over with.”

  And with that, they started to march toward the smouldering entrance that the Eryx had gouged out of the mountainside. Smoke was still spiralling out of the newly blasted hole, and somewhere behind it was a tomb containing the Sword of Fire.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  With the sun at their backs, the team started along the rim of the caldera. The howling wind of the previous night was now a light summer breeze blowing on their faces from the Irish Sea to the west. With each step they took toward the newly-blasted entrance, the faces of Kruger and Zito slowly came into sharper focus until they were almost face to face.

  “All right,” Hawke said. “We’re here and we’re unarmed. Release Kloos.”

  “Not until we have the sword,” Kruger said. “Now get inside – and no funny business.” To clarify the consequences of any rebellion, Zito and his men moved forward and raised their guns.

  Lea stood defiant. “Where’s Maggie’s idol?”

  “Shut your mouth and move!” he snarled.

  They moved into the hole and quickly found themselves inside a cold, narrow tunnel, kept secret from the world for countless centuries by the slab of granite the Eryx had destroyed moments earlier. Shuffling deeper now, the hand-carved tunnel was so narrow they had to move into single-file, and their shoulders brushed against the rough stone as they moved into the heart of the mountain.

  The tunnel opened out and revealed a small chamber. Opposite them, an arched entrance was carved into the rock wall. Hawke shone his flashlight beam at it, and above the door was a smooth, granite lintel with some words carved into it.

  Kruger turned to Kloos. The old man was still being held up by Zito’s thugs and was barely conscious.

  Kruger poked the professor in the stomach with his gun. “What does it say, old man?”

  Kloos mumbled incoherently.

  “What about you, Bale?”

  Ryan frowned. “It says Annwn. It’s the Welsh underworld, but I don’t know much about it. It’s the Welsh version of the classic otherworld – the Tibetans had Shambhala and the Irish had Tír na nÓg.”

  “The Land of the Young,” Lea said quietly. “My father talked to me about it.”

  “This stuff is all very pre-Christian,” Ryan continued. “All I know about Annwn is that there was endless food there and no death or disease. It basically morphed into the Christian concept of Paradise, except there’s a difference – the word Annwn refers to the great depth of the place, whereas we see heaven as high above us and hell being below.”

  “That’s right,” Kloos said, his voice weak and trembling. “The King of Annwn was Gwyn ap Nudd, and he used to hunt for mortal souls with his hell hounds, known in Welsh as Cŵn Annwn. There is an ancient poem called the Spoils of Annwn – a very cryptic and strange piece of text that describes how King Arthur himself made an expedition to Annwn,”

  He stopped to cough and spit out some blood. “There are Irish accounts recounting similar details. At this stage Welsh and Irish myths are closely intertwined. Some say this expedition was nothing more than Arthur’s journey to Ireland, but I have always known in my heart he went to the actual underworld... Annwn.”

  “And you think this damned place is Annwn?” Kruger said.

  “Sounds like nonsense to me,” Zito added. “All this for a sword.”

  Kruger turned on him and raised a blade to his fat throat. “You keep it down, Gianni, or I’ll gut you like one of your Italian sardines, right boy?”

  Zito was shocked, but Kruger had the power and everyone knew it, including Zito. He gave a hurried nod and tried to smile. “I meant nothing by it, Dirk.”

  Kruger slid the blade back in his belt, satisfied he had quelled the mutiny, but Hawke noticed a look in Zito’s eyes. Something told him Kruger had better watch his back around the Italian from now on.

  “I’ve had enough of all this crap about underworlds and hell hounds,” the South African said, and turned to Vermaak. “I was married to a hell hound once.”

  Vermaak laughed and gave Kruger a hearty slap on the back, but Zito and his men were less impressed, and
Hawke wondered if he could exploit the difference of opinion between the two groups of men.

  “So let’s get inside,” the arms dealer said. “I want to get out of this place.”

  They made their way deep inside the mountain. In the second tunnel, the wind howled and whistled like an army of ghosts disturbed after centuries of silent rest. Moving further forward now, and with Kruger and the others a safe distance behind them, they started to notice the tunnel opening out.

  They advanced further until they reached a large cavern: carvings in the rocky walls showed an ancient human presence, and then they saw stone steps carved into the side of the cave. Each step had been hewn from granite into a perfectly smooth slab, and they descended away from the ledge until disappearing into an unsettling darkness deep in the earth.

  Hawke looked at the steps doubtingly. “I don’t like the look of that.”

  Scarlet appeared at his arm and peered down the steps into the damp gloom. “I used to go to a nightclub with an entrance like that.”

  “No doubt the sort where you need a password to get in,” Hawke said.

  “As matter of fact, yes,” she replied.

  “And a safeword when you’re in there,” Ryan said with a smirk.

  Scarlet leaned in and whispered in Ryan’s ear, but loud enough for all to hear. “As matter of fact yes. Where do you think I get my fighting techniques from?”

  The young man’s response took a second too long to come, and then Kruger filled the silence. “What are you waiting for, Hawke? Get down the steps. If you think there might be a booby-trap then send one of your team first.”

  “I go first, Kruger,” Hawke replied. “We don’t all think like you.”

  The Englishman took the first step with the same level of trepidation he imagined Neil Armstrong must have felt, but his boot landed on solid granite and slowly he led the others down the stone steps into the darkness with only his flashlight to guide him safely and stop a lethal fall off the side.

  They reached the bottom of the steps and found themselves facing a decrepit rope suspension bridge which spanned a narrow gorge. Hawke pointed his beam down and it disappeared into blackness.