The Resurrection Key

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The Resurrection Key Page 4

by Andy McDermott


  Fortune nodded. ‘Good luck with your quiet life, my friend!’

  That was enough excuse for another toast. ‘Good luck!’ chorused Brazilian ex-cop Ana Rijo and her boyfriend, the hulking Russian mercenary Oleg Maximov. Everyone else followed suit.

  Eddie and Nina clinked their own glasses. ‘Sounds good to me,’ he said. ‘You?’

  ‘Staying out of trouble?’ she said. ‘Absolutely. Here’s to a quiet life!’

  They both drank, then Nina eyed her husband’s faintly pensive expression. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Can’t help thinking I’m going to hear Ron Howard’s voice saying, “They didn’t get one.”’

  She laughed. ‘A cultural reference from the twenty-first century? I’m impressed! But we don’t need to worry. I mean, I’m not about to jet off around the world looking for some ancient artefact . . .’

  ‘Honey,’ said Nina a few hours later, ‘you remember how I said I wasn’t about to jet off around the world looking for some ancient artefact?’

  ‘Yeah?’ Eddie replied, followed by a more forceful: ‘Oh, you’re bloody kidding me!’

  ‘I know, I know! But something’s come up.’

  He entered her study, giving her a stern look as he folded his arms. ‘What?’

  She turned from her laptop to face him. The mysterious artefact Cheng had shown her dominated the screen. After returning home, she’d found the paper he had given her in her purse. Out of a mixture of intrigue and concern for his welfare – and maybe with the encouragement of a few drinks – she had installed an anonymising Tor browser so she could access the dark web, then used the address and password to reach the seller’s page.

  What she found caught her interest, almost unwillingly. There was a more detailed description of the object in both German and English, the text hinting at its origin: obtained near the South Pole. The hidden redoubt of the Veteres had been in the Antarctic. There had to be a connection.

  Then there were the crystal and the purple stone at the disc’s centre. They appeared to be the same materials as ones she had found in an Atlantean vault buried in Turkey: materials that, in conjunction with the earth’s natural energy fields, produced strange, even dangerous, effects. She knew from unpleasant experience that the Veteres, like their distant descendants from Atlantis, could harness these powers.

  A key, the seller called it. But to what?

  ‘This is something one of my students found on the dark web,’ she explained. ‘It’s almost certainly a Veteres artefact.’

  ‘I thought everything of theirs was destroyed.’

  ‘So did I, but it seems history always finds a way to resurface.’ She indicated part of the picture. ‘This text looks like the same script from the Veteres records in Antarctica.’

  ‘What about that?’ He nodded at a smaller image. ‘Badly drawn pirates?’

  The second photo showed a highly stylised skull. ‘I don’t know what it represents – but the text around it is in a different language. It almost looks Atlantean.’

  ‘This thing’s from Atlantis?’

  ‘I don’t know. The characters don’t quite match, and some of them I don’t even recognise. It could be an earlier form; proto-Atlantean.’

  ‘Can you read any of it?’

  She nodded. ‘This word . . . if it were written in Atlantean, I’d say it was “rebirth” – or “resurrection”. I can’t translate anything else, though. Maybe if I saw the real thing . . .’

  ‘Which is where?’

  ‘Germany. Somebody’s trying to sell it on the black market.’

  He peered at the screen. ‘Fifty grand? Jesus! Who’d pay that much?’

  ‘My student, unfortunately! A Chinese kid called Cheng, with a wealthy family. He wanted me to go with him to buy it.’

  ‘Why you?’

  ‘I’m his professor – and I have a track record of finding lost civilisations, remember? But when I said no, he decided he was going anyway. And I think he’s going to be played for a sucker to the tune of fifty thousand euros at best, and end up face-down in the River Elbe at worst.’

  ‘You don’t think it’s genuine?’

  ‘No, I do, and that’s the problem. If some kid can find it on the dark web, so can other people.’ She pointed out the stone and crystal. ‘These are the same kind of things we saw in Turkey. Remember how somebody stole the entire vault from under the noses of the Turkish government and the IHA?’

  ‘Hard to forget. The thing probably weighed twenty tons.’

  ‘Any group that could do that would have to be big, well connected – somebody in Turkey must have turned a blind eye – and rich. It was a huge job, but they did it literally overnight without leaving a single clue. An organisation like that won’t let a nerdy eighteen-year-old beat them to the punch.’

  ‘What kind of organisation, though?’ he asked. ‘Everybody in the Covenant of Genesis is dead, and they were the only ones who knew all about the Veteres. And the vault in Turkey was from Atlantis, not the Veteres.’

  ‘But they’re linked – both civilisations could channel earth energy. We already know that’s a power the American government would go to great lengths to obtain, never mind any other country.’

  Eddie pursed his lips thoughtfully. ‘And you said this kid is Chinese? There’s a country that’s trying pretty damn hard to get more power all around the world. Maybe he’s working for the Chinese government.’

  She gave him a mocking look. ‘Cheng’s eighteen, and I’d guess the most physical training he’s ever had was clicking a mouse. I really don’t think he’s a Chinese spy. I’m more worried about him going to Hamburg chasing this thing, and not returning.’

  ‘So you want to chase after it instead?’

  ‘I can’t stop him going,’ she said. ‘But I can make sure he comes back.’

  Eddie perched on the edge of her desk, then sighed. ‘So much for the quiet life. That lasted, what, three hours?’

  ‘I know,’ she said. ‘It wasn’t what I planned at all. But if Cheng goes on his own, I have a horrible feeling he’ll be sticking his head in a lion’s mouth. He’s clever, very smart, but . . . well, he’s still a kid.’

  He made a disapproving noise, then looked back at the screen. ‘Hamburg, eh? I’ve been there. Long time back, when I was in the army, but I doubt it’s changed much. Sort of place where you need to stay on your toes.’

  ‘Any advice?’

  ‘Don’t go on your own. Especially in the rough part of town. Which is where I can guarantee the guy selling this thing will be.’

  ‘Yeah, I’d already resigned myself to that,’ she said with dark humour.

  ‘When’s he going?’

  ‘This weekend.’

  ‘And I already know I won’t talk you out of going with him, ’cause you’re back in full Nina mode . . .’

  ‘Hmph!’

  Eddie straightened. ‘I’ll come with you,’ he said firmly.

  Nina knew he would be as stubborn having made the decision as she, but still gave him a dubious look. ‘What about Macy?’

  ‘Holly or Olivia can look after her.’

  ‘Macy’ll be pissed at us both, you know.’

  He grinned. ‘You should be used to that by now.’

  It was her turn to sigh. ‘I know. Oh well. Better start thinking about how we’re going to break this to her in the morning.’

  ‘Think we’ll have to work faster than that,’ said Eddie as the study door opened.

  Macy entered. ‘Break what to me?’

  ‘All yours, love,’ the Yorkshireman said to Nina with a grin.

  ‘Gee, thanks,’ she replied, before taking a deep breath as she faced her daughter. ‘Okay. Honey, this weekend, your dad and I have to go away for a couple of days.’

  ‘Why?’ Macy asked.

  ‘Ah . . . some
business came up at the university. I need to go to Germany to help collect an artefact.’

  Her face lit up. ‘Can I come?’

  ‘Sorry, honey, but no. You’ll have to stay here.’

  Macy’s smile turned instantly into a scowl. ‘What? Why? Why does Dad get to go, but not me?’

  Nina looked to Eddie for help, but he merely gave her an infuriating little smirk. She glared at him, then continued: ‘The place we’re probably going . . . it’s not really suitable for a girl your age.’

  A snort of outrage. ‘Mom! I’m ten, not five!’

  Eddie finally joined in. ‘To be honest, love, I wouldn’t be happy about you going there even if you were a grown-up.’

  Macy’s expression did not lighten. ‘I can’t believe you’re going to Europe without me.’

  ‘We’ll be back as soon as we can,’ Nina assured her. ‘Olivia or Holly will look after you while we’re gone.’

  ‘But I don’t want them to look after me!’ she protested. ‘I want to come with you!’ She glanced at Nina’s laptop. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘That’s the artefact we’re going to collect.’

  ‘That skull looks familiar. I think I’ve seen it in an archaeology video.’

  ‘I doubt it, honey,’ Nina said. ‘This thing’s only just been discovered.’

  Macy’s only reply was an irritable huff as she turned and stalked out. Her mother and father exchanged long-suffering glances, then followed her into the living room. ‘It’ll be okay, love,’ said Eddie. ‘It’s only for two nights. And I’m sure Holly and Olivia’ll do something fun with you.’

  ‘Holly only ever offers to take me to the zoo, like I’m still six,’ Macy complained. She picked up her toy trikan, based on the weapon from the movies rather than the real artefact, from the coffee table. ‘And I love Olivia, but she’s really old. She can’t do anything fun.’

  Nina sighed. ‘My little girl’s already turning into a teenager. And she’s only ten!’ she said to Eddie, before turning back to her daughter. ‘So what do you want to do?’

  A shrug. ‘I dunno.’

  ‘Yep, definitely sounds like a teenager,’ Eddie said.

  Macy pouted, spinning the trikan on a short length of its string like a yo-yo – then whirled towards Eddie and sent it flying at him. ‘Hey, Malkovich! Think fast!’

  It was a family joke from the film Being John Malkovich, warning that the other person should duck. Eddie did so – but not quickly enough. The toy deflected off the top of his head as he bobbed, hitting an ornament on a shelf. It fell to the floor and smashed.

  Macy gasped in dismay. Eddie stared at the broken pieces, aghast. Nina, meanwhile, had to use every ounce of self-control not to whoop in delight. ‘Oh . . . no,’ she managed. ‘That’s a shame.’

  The broken object was a pottery cigar-box holder in the caricatured shape of a beaming Fidel Castro, which had come with the Englishman when the couple first moved in together – and which Nina had long since abandoned hope of ever removing from their home. She tried not to smile about their daughter doing it for her.

  Eddie regarded the debris for one last moment, then, with a heavy breath, crouched to collect the fragments. ‘Oh Dad, no, I’m so sorry!’ Macy cried, kneeling to help him. ‘Can you fix it?’

  ‘No, it’s bust,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Oh well. Guess it did its job.’

  As far as Nina knew, it had never held a cigar in its life, and she was sure he didn’t mean its everyday purpose of storing loose change. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Didn’t I tell you where it came from?’

  ‘I always kinda suspected Cuba, but no.’

  ‘Hugo gave it me as a souvenir while we were doing a job in Cuba, yeah.’ He nodded towards the framed pictures occupying part of one wall: Eddie’s former comrades-in-arms, many of whom were now dead. Hugo Castille had been his closest friend during his time as an international troubleshooter. ‘We actually met Castro, you know,’ he added, almost as an afterthought.

  Nina was surprised. Her husband had always been discreet about his military and mercenary past, but never mentioning that? ‘You did?’

  ‘Yeah, briefly. One of those “how the hell did I get into this situation?” moments. Didn’t agree with his politics, but he was a funny guy.’ He finished gathering the larger pieces and put them in the bin.

  ‘I’ll get the vacuum,’ said Macy, hurrying to the hall cupboard.

  ‘So Hugo bought me this,’ Eddie went on, crouching again to collect the spilled coins, ‘partly as a joke about meeting Fidel, and partly to say: “Hey, don’t sit around moping about the past” – I’d just got divorced – “because you never know what’s going to happen next.” And that part was certainly true. After me and Sophia split up, I had a couple of years doing all sorts of crazy stuff . . . and then I met you.’

  ‘And then things got really crazy,’ she said with a smile.

  ‘You’re not bloody kidding,’ he replied, grinning, as Macy returned with the vacuum cleaner. ‘So maybe poor old Fidel’s done everything he was meant to do. I’ve reached fifty, so that’s one chapter of my life over, but there are new ones to come.’

  ‘Lots and lots of them, hopefully.’

  ‘That’s the plan!’ He deposited the coins on a countertop, then moved so Macy could vacuum up the remaining fragments. ‘Can’t believe I didn’t duck in time.’

  ‘Like you said, you’ve reached fifty,’ Nina reminded him. ‘You aren’t as quick as when you were twenty.’

  ‘Or forty-nine, apparently. Thanks, Macy.’

  Macy switched off the vacuum cleaner. ‘Dad, I’m sorry I broke it, I really am.’

  ‘It’s all right, love,’ he said, squeezing her. ‘It’s just a thing. Nobody got hurt. So,’ he went on, recognising an opportunity, ‘do you think you’ll be okay without us for a couple of days?’

  ‘I suppose so, yeah—’ Macy gave him a sidelong look, realising she had been guilt-tripped. ‘Dad.’

  He grinned. ‘You’ll be fine. We’ll call Holly and Olivia in the morning.’

  ‘And I’ll tell Cheng we’re going with him,’ added Nina.

  Eddie let out a wry chuckle. ‘Off to Germany at a moment’s notice? Hugo was right. You never do know what’s going to happen next.’

  3

  Hamburg, Germany

  Cheng looked around as he, Nina and Eddie emerged from the S-Bahn station. ‘So this is the famous Reeperbahn!’

  ‘Infamous is more like it,’ said Eddie. ‘It doesn’t look like much in daylight, but things’ll kick off once it gets dark. And whatever you do, keep hold of that bloody bag.’ As well as a backpack, the young Chinese carried a black nylon holdall; in it was fifty thousand euros in cash, which he had collected from a bank in central Hamburg.

  Nina was already regretting her decision to come. The evening flight from JFK had been delayed, not taking off until the early hours of the morning, and when she’d called Macy on arriving in Germany, her daughter was still angry and petulant about being forced to stay at home. The knowledge that they still had to deal with the artefact’s seller, who she was certain would try to pull some con, did not improve her own grumpy mood. ‘Do I want to know what you were doing in Hamburg’s red-light district?’

  ‘Nothing I caught anything from, don’t worry,’ her husband replied with a grin. ‘It’s pretty much a squaddie rule when you’re in Germany. Come to Hamburg, go to the Reeperbahn, drink too much, ogle people, try not to pass out in a gutter and wake up with all your money gone. Hey, I was young,’ he added, seeing her disapproval.

  ‘I didn’t do anything like that when I was young.’

  ‘Maybe you should have. Might have made you more . . . adventurous.’ He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

  Nina felt her cheeks flush. ‘Eddie, we have company.’

  ‘He’s not
listening.’ Cheng was consulting a map on his phone, only to become distracted as two young women wearing extremely short skirts and high heels trotted past. ‘Hey, Cheng! Close your mouth, you’re drooling.’

  The Chinese student hurriedly snapped his jaw shut. ‘I was not! I was, uh . . .’

  ‘I’m guessing you haven’t seen anything like this in China,’ said Nina. The buildings along the Reeperbahn advertised their business with Teutonic bluntness. Most were dedicated to sex, all tastes and kinks and fetishes catered for, and the remainder provided sustenance and supplies to wide-eyed visitors.

  ‘I have to admit, no, Professor,’ said Cheng, forcing his eyes back to the phone.

  ‘So where are we going?’ Eddie asked.

  ‘He told me to come to an apartment off a street called Grobe Freiheit at seven o’clock.’

  The Yorkshireman laughed. ‘That’s Große Freiheit. Pronounced like “grocer”.’

  ‘You know it?’ said Nina.

  ‘Yeah. Lots of boozers and nightclubs and theatres.’

  ‘Not the kind that do Shakespeare, I assume.’

  ‘Topless Shakespeare, maybe.’ He pointed west. ‘It’s along there.’

  The trio started down the street. The Reeperbahn was switching from daytime mundanity to the excitement of the night – or the sleaze, depending on one’s point of view. Nina definitely veered towards the latter. Packs of young male tourists were heading for the bars to drink up the courage they needed to enter somewhere more exotic, older men in ones and twos moving purposefully towards whichever establishment catered to their evening’s desires. Female visitors were in the minority, and were either in groups for mutual reassurance, or tagging along uncomfortably with partners. The women who actually worked in the district, whatever their age and profession, all had similar expressions: a stony indifference that couldn’t quite be masked even behind the brightest fake smile.

  ‘Is it safe here?’ she asked, moving closer to Eddie.

 

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