Age of Heroes

by James Lovegrove

  Sasha chuckled, as did Chase.

  Arlington hesitated, then took his seat again. His wife had defused much of the tension, though far from all.

  “Not that you wouldn’t win that particular competition,” she added with a decorous leer.

  Her husband, in spite of everything, was unable to quench a smile.

  Finally, Gottlieb spoke. “I hate to say it, Evander, but Theo has a point. You ought to know where the cylinders are. Is it conceivable that you’ve lost them?”

  “No. I don’t think so. I’m fairly certain they’re at my place in New York. Stored in the safe there.”

  “Only fairly certain?”

  “If not, then at the castle in the Cairngorms, in the cellar. One or the other. Hélène, I don’t suppose you have more of an idea?”

  “How long have we been married, darling?”

  “Forty years.”

  “Closer on fifty, but who’s counting? I’ve been by your side all that time. I’ve shared three different surnames with you. But I’ve never heard about any copper cylinders before today.”

  “Have I never mentioned them?”

  “Not once. Must have slipped your mind.”

  “Well, there you go, Theo. That exonerates me. I’m not even sure where the damned cylinders are, and my wife says they’ve never once come up in conversation. I can’t say I’ve even thought about them in recent times. I remember, when Harry gave them to me, telling myself that I should be careful with them, make sure they never fell into the wrong hands. But time passed, I had other things to focus on, and the cylinders became just part of the baggage I carried around with me.”

  “Anybody else thinking of the ending of Raiders of the Lost Ark?” said Chase. “No? Just me, then.”

  “Assuming you’re telling the truth, Evander,” Theo said, “that doesn’t mean you never looked at what’s inside the cylinders.”

  “But I never did.”

  “So you say.”

  “Won’t take me at my word, eh?”

  “I’m not in the mood to trust anyone at present, you least of all.”

  “Less than Harry? I’m genuinely hurt.”

  Theo turned to Gottlieb. “That’s a point: why are you here, Harry? I thought you had some bolthole you’d run to.”

  “See that yacht down there?” Gottlieb gestured in the direction of the jetty, just visible from the terrace. The superyacht bobbed on the evening tide. A crewman was out on the foredeck, polishing chrome trim. “That’s it. That’s my bolthole.”

  “I assumed the boat was Evander’s.”

  “Mine?” Arlington snorted. “Even the smallest of the three I own is twice the size. That’s a dinghy.”

  “It’s a hiding place that allows me to go where I like,” said Gottlieb. “Rather than being confined in one spot, I can be anywhere – and nowhere. Fully crewed, all mod cons, a floating home from home. I have to dock at port every couple of weeks to refuel and resupply, but otherwise I can just keep cruising indefinitely, unfindable. It’s the perfect refuge for weathering a storm. A figurative storm, that is. An actual storm, too, come to think of it.”

  “I should have guessed,” said Theo. “Odysseus roaming the Mediterranean again. Why not?”

  “There is a certain symmetry to it, yes. A certain irony as well.”

  “Just be careful which islands you put in at.”

  “There are far fewer hazards for the traveller in the Med these days. No Sirens, no Scylla and Charybdis, no Circe. All those have gone. The most I have to worry about is colliding with a boatload of refugees in the dark. But to go back to your question: I decided to pay Evander a call for the simple reason that I felt he should be given a heads up. I knew that you, Theo, would be gunning for him. I thought the least he deserved was some forewarning.”

  “You couldn’t have Skyped him? Sent a text?”

  “Some things are better done in person. I was in the area anyway, and Evander and Hélène are such excellent hosts. You can’t fault me for wishing to partake of their generosity.” As if to illustrate the point, Gottlieb plucked the retsina bottle from the ice bucket and refilled his glass.

  “You have to admit,” Theo said, “it doesn’t make you look innocent, you being here. Doesn’t make Evander look innocent, either.”

  “You seem convinced that we’re in cahoots.”

  “There’s that word again,” said Chase. “Cahoots. Love it.”

  “What you’ve yet to explain,” Gottlieb continued, “is why. Why would we collude in the killing of demigods? What do we get out of it? I personally had nothing against Aeneas, or Orpheus, or any of them.”

  “Neither did I,” said Arlington.

  “My interactions with each of them have been sporadic at best. There was never any longstanding animosity.”

  “I guess not,” Theo said.

  “Put it another way. Of the five demigods who’ve been killed, I harboured a grudge against none. And the same is true of Evander. The only demigod I can think of whom he might have cause to resent, Theo, is you.”

  Arlington bowed his head briefly in acknowledgement.

  “And you,” Gottlieb said, “are most assuredly alive.”

  “SO WHERE DOES that leave us?” Chase said to Theo and Sasha.

  The three of them were making their way to the guest cottages at the southern end of the island, the pointed of the heart. Ioannis was escorting them. The paths were lit by parades of knee-high lights.

  “Back at square one,” said Sasha.

  Theo shrugged. He didn’t want to talk about it any further until they were alone again, unaccompanied.

  Ioannis showed them to a row of blocky, self-contained apartments, like huge sugar cubes set in a straggling line. Each had a king-size bed draped in Egyptian cotton bedlinen, a balcony and a spacious bathroom.

  “Have a look round,” he said. “They’re all made up. You may choose whichever you like.”

  “Except Harry Gottlieb’s, presumably,” said Chase.

  “Mr Gottlieb isn’t staying here.”

  “He has his yacht,” said Sasha.

  “As a matter of fact, Mr Gottlieb is staying up at the house,” said Ioannis. “There is a bedroom there reserved for – ahem – special guests.”

  “That’d be about right,” said Chase sardonically. “Harry Gottlieb wouldn’t slum it with hoi polloi like us.”

  “You’ll find a selection of nightwear in the closets which you’re welcome to borrow. Fresh towels too. If there’s anything else you need, whatever the hour – food, drink, anything – simply press the intercom button. Someone will respond. If that will be all? Efcharisto. Kalinichta.”

  After the major domo had departed, the three demigods reconvened outside.

  “We should just go,” Theo said.

  “Are you shitting me?” said Chase. “I don’t know what your cottage is like, cuz, but there’s a whirlpool bath and a multi-jet shower in mine. The drinks cabinet’s stocked like you wouldn’t believe; so’s the fridge. There’s about a billion channels on the TV. The last thing I want to do is get on that goddamn boat and spend six hours schlepping back to the mainland. Screw that. I was on a long-haul plane last night. Tonight I want a decent sleep in a comfortable bed.”

  Theo couldn’t argue with his logic or the force with which he expressed it.

  “Sasha?”

  “We can head back to Piraeus in the morning. I’ll instruct Rosalind and Melina to stand down until daybreak. One thing, though, Theo.”

  “Yeah?”

  “How long have you suspected that Harry Gottlieb might be behind the killings? It wasn’t something that occurred to you just this evening. You weren’t grilling only Arlington. It was both of them.”

  Theo could see no point in lying or prevaricating. “Gottlieb’s been on my radar since Chase and I met up with him in Washington. The way he bailed on us was kind of a red flag.”

  “So you would have considered me tainted by association, since it was Gottlie
b who sent me to join you in Russia.”

  “Can’t deny it.”

  “Yet you never said anything.”

  “I might have been wrong. I was playing the odds. And trying to avoid pissing you off.”

  “Do you still have misgivings about me?”

  “Want me to be honest?”

  “If you wouldn’t mind.”

  “You weren’t with us in Stolby, and you were the only one who wasn’t. You stayed behind.”

  “The whole exercise seemed futile to me.”

  “But you encouraged us to go anyway.”

  “Chase needed to let off steam.”

  “I did,” Chase said.

  “You all did,” said Sasha. “Men are not the masters of their feelings. They need an outlet for all those emotions they cannot express. I judged that the three of you would benefit from getting out in the open air and hunting for a while. Whether you caught Chase’s beast or not, it would be cathartic. Of course I regret my decision now. With hindsight, I wish I’d been with you. It might have made a difference.”

  “It might,” said Theo, “but probably not.”

  “But you believe – what? I sent you with him and set the Myrmidons on your trail?”

  “I’d be an idiot if it didn’t occur to me. They came right to where we were.”

  “It could have been coincidence that I chose not to go.”

  “Maybe, but I don’t like coincidences. I don’t believe in them.”

  “Was it you, Sasha?” said Chase. “I mean, let’s be direct about this. Look us in the eye and tell us you weren’t involved?”

  “I had nothing to do with it,” Sasha said. “Believe that or not, I don’t care. I know I am telling the truth. If I’m not on your side, how come I’m still with you? How come I have got you transportation and guns? Answer me that, either of you.”

  Chase was silent. Theo deliberated. He wanted to think Sasha was being up-front with them, but her personality made it difficult. Someone as prickly and aloof as her always seemed to have a hidden agenda, even if they didn’t.

  “You can’t,” she said. “Thought as much.” And she spun on her heel and disappeared into her cottage.

  Chase looked at Theo. “Get some sleep, cuz. That’s the best remedy. You’re tired; so am I. We’ll start again in the morning, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.”

  He clapped him on the shoulder and, somewhat drunkenly, ambled off.

  THEO TRIED TO sleep, but couldn’t. Frustration knotted his stomach. Thoughts whirled round in his head.

  If it wasn’t Arlington or Gottlieb, then who? Who was sponsoring and masterminding the killings? How had they got hold of the artefacts’ locations? Why were they going to all this expense and trouble to exterminate demigods? What was the point?

  He had been so close to a resolution, or so it had seemed. Kardionisi was where everything would be tied up, he’d been sure. But now, as Sasha had said, they were back to square one.

  Eventually he did doze off.

  Only to be woken sometime around 3AM by a beep from his phone.

  A text message, from Roy Young.

  Four short words.

  Be ready. We’re coming.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  The Aegean, south of Kardionisi

  A TRIO OF black Zodiacs scudded across the nighttime waves in triangle formation.

  Roy was in the leading boat. With him were Gavin and Jeanne, the latter driving. The remaining eight Myrmidons were divided equally between the other two boats.

  The Zodiacs – fast, low-profile inflatables – were a mile from their destination, a small island now rising on the horizon. Distant lights twinkled on its summit, outnumbered and outshone by the myriad of stars scintillating above.

  Just as Roy downed the last two of his Russian painkillers, his phone vibrated. Theo Stannard had answered his text.

  I’m the next target?

  Quickly Roy tapped out a reply, gloved thumbs clumsy:

  You and anyone who gets in our way.

  Stannard came back with:

  How many of you?

  Roy:

  The lot.

  Stannard:

  I should be flattered. How long do I have?

  Roy:

  Not long. We’re nearly there. I’ll do my best at this end. Haven’t been given much time to prepare. Just stay alive so you can keep your side of our bargain.

  Stannard closed the exchange with:

  You help keep me alive and I will.

  Roy tucked his phone away and turned to Gavin and Jeanne.

  “Stannard’s been alerted,” he said above the outboard’s rumble. “You two sure about this? You’re still with me?”

  Gavin said, “I’m not happy about the money. In my head, all I can see is a bloody great big wedge of cash flapping away from me on wings. I had plans. That villa in Malaga...”

  “It’s just money,” said Jeanne. “We can earn more another time, another way. Badenhorst is a son of a bitch. He crossed a line when he kidnapped Roy’s daughter. What kind of shitstain does that?”

  “The kind we shouldn’t be working for. The same kind who’d bullshit us, holding back the full intel we needed. That’s just plain rude; the worst kind of unprofessional. I know people in our line of work are not always what you’d call honourable, but still, there’s a code of ethics. A rule book.”

  “The whole project has been a fog of secrets and misinformation,” Roy said. “Kind of goes with the turf, I know, but this is on an altogether different scale.”

  “The pay was too good,” Jeanne said. “Too good to be true.”

  “Yeah, we were blinded by it. I know I was.”

  “What I still can’t get my head around is that our targets have been actual Greek demigods,” Gavin said. “I used to love those creaky old movies as a kid, the ones with Ray Harryhausen animation, Jason and the Argonauts, Clash of the Titans, all that. And they were about actual living people? The same people we’ve been going after? It’s just plain bonkers.”

  “It’s just a shame you’ve only got the two of us to back you up, Roy,” said Jeanne.

  “You’re the only two I know I can trust,” said Roy. “Schutkeker, Laffoon, Blomgren – I just don’t think I can rely on them. Sean Wilson, maybe; I thought about it. But when it came down to it, you two were the only ones who seemed like you’d do the decent thing, once you knew about Josie. You’d put your consciences ahead of lining your wallets.”

  “Too right,” said Gavin. “I’ve got kids. My boys. I like it that I can afford to give them a good life. My wife, too. Makes the job doable. But if I thought for one moment that there was going to be blowback, that I was going to put them in danger... Well, I don’t know what I’d do. Go ballistic, most like. I’m amazed you’re managing to hold it together, mate. Iron will.”

  “Not so much that as the idea of nailing Badenhorst’s bollocks to a wall after this is over.”

  “While they’re still attached to him or not?”

  “No particular preference. Either’ll do.” Roy tapped the pressure button on the side of his helmet to activate the Myrmidons’ universal comms link. “Everyone, we’re half a klick out. Decelerate to dead slow. There’s enough chop in the water to mask the sound of our engines at low rev.”

  Minutes later Jeanne was nosing the Zodiac into the island’s natural harbour. She cut the motor and the inflatable coasted up silently alongside the two boats moored at the jetty – a midsized launch and one of those floating gin palaces beloved of the global elite. Both were unlit and quiet. Anyone aboard was most likely asleep.

  During the mission briefing Badenhorst had advised the Myrmidons that there were civilians on the island. Travis Laffoon had asked the inevitable question: “What do we do about them?” Badenhorst had said leave them alone unless they showed themselves to be hostile.

  Roy felt the point was worth reiterating. “Target Alpha is Theo Stannard,” he said over the comms as the other two Zodiacs sidled up to the je
tty. “We do not shoot at anybody who isn’t a direct threat. No collaterals on this one if we can avoid it.”

  He leapt onto the jetty. Strapped to his back was the ancient double-bladed battle-axe he had used to slash open Isaac Merrison at Chapel Reef. As then, he seemed to feel the weapon vibrating where it touched him, trembling like a greyhound in the slips, eager for action. It was almost as though the axe was alive and thrilled at the prospect of bloodshed. Last time, he had dismissed it as nonsense, a figment of his imagination. Now, he was not so sure. In a world where demigods were real, all bets were off. Did the special weapons the Myrmidons were using have magical powers? It made a crazy kind of sense. Supernaturally boosted implements for killing immortals. Why the hell not?

  The island’s sides were sheer. The only practical way to get to its summit was the funicular elevator, which currently stood at the top of its track. There was a button for summoning it, but the noise was liable to cause a disturbance and wake people. Fortunately, a set of concrete service steps ran parallel with the track.

  “Gavin, Jeanne, with me,” he said. “The rest of you, stay put.”

  “Uh, actually that’s a no-can-do, Roy boy,” said Laffoon, clambering onto the jetty.

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “I said that’s a no-can-do. We’re all of us going with you.”

  “You are not. I’m team leader. I give the orders. And I’m telling you, this is just me, Gavin and Jeanne. The three of us will be enough. Everyone else, remain here on the jetty. Hunker down and wait ’til we return.”

  “No, that ain’t how it’s gonna happen.”

  “Yes, Roy,” said Hans Schutkeker. “You give us orders, but someone higher than you has also given us orders.”