Atlantis Stolen (Sam Reilly Book 3)

by Christopher Cartwright

  Billie touched her brakes slightly harder than required as she came around the corner leaving the city. To the other drivers of the busy motorway, the action might have appeared to be entirely accidental, but it was enough to cause the familiar moped to swerve to the right of her, forcing its rider to overtake.

  The license plate came into clear view.

  It was different.

  She had written it down as a precaution yesterday, when she noticed the motorcycle arrive and depart the National Archives building at the same time as herself. Even without checking her notes, she was able to immediately recognize that the two weren’t the same. Even so, it didn’t alleviate the uncomfortable sensation that she was being followed.

  To her dismay, the moped slowed until she was forced to overtake it again.

  That’s it. I’m not playing this game!

  She stopped the car, pulling over into a break down lane. Opening a large foldout map – as though she were one of the thousands of lost tourists – she watched as the Vespa disappeared.

  Relieved, she refolded the map, and was about to drive off again, when an entirely new Vespa appeared.

  Unlike the previous rider, who had worn a full faced helmet with an impenetrable reflective visor, making him or her appear sinister, this Vespa was red and the rider had long blonde hair, which hung carelessly out of the rider’s open faced helmet, and a beautiful young Dutch girl’s smile.

  Hardly the face of a person trying to spy…

  The rider pulled onto the footpath behind her. Despite the complete differences of the two riders, there was no mistaking the coincidence that another Vespa should park behind her within minutes of losing the last one.

  So, someone is following me.

  She entered the traffic, not wanting to draw attention to herself.

  “Call Sam,” she said, activating the voice recognition in the car.

  “Did you find what you were after?” Sam asked, dismissing civilities.

  “Sam, I don’t know how, but someone’s onto us.”

  “Really, no one even knows we’re in the country, and I can’t imagine how they would have worked out what we’re doing here. Especially, given that I don’t really know what we’re doing.”

  “All the same, someone knows. I’ve had several men on Vespas stalking me since I left the National Archives building.”

  “No chance they just want your phone number?”

  “Fuck you. I’m telling you someone’s after me.”

  Sam’s voice stiffened. “Where are you now?”

  She looked at the GPS on the heads up display on the windscreen. “Weeperstraat. Approaching… Mauritskade… ”

  “Good. I want you to take a right onto it. And then loop around to the Frederik Henderik Park. Do you know how to get there?”

  “Yeah, sure. I think I’ve passed it a few times in the past few days,” she replied.

  “Stay on the main roads. If I’m not there when you arrive, make a circuit. I can be there in twenty minutes. And Billie…”

  “What?”

  “Did you find it?”

  “Yes. I couldn’t steal it without someone taking notice, but I’ve taken several photographs. It should be enough to find where he’s gone.”

  “Good. Listen. Stick to the main roads, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Don’t stop your car until you see me!”

  “Understood!”

  Billie’s heart raced as she reached the Frederik Henderik Park within ten minutes. She slowed, but the park was empty. She was too early for Sam to reach it. The first time since she’d arrived in the city that the traffic had been so good, when all she wanted was a slow but constant run.

  In general, she could look after herself, but she was unarmed. She swore at herself for not taking the precautions she normally did, but she’d worried that her weapon was more likely to raise suspicion than dispel it. Besides, whoever knew what she was after would have infinite resources behind them. Few people knew that Atlantis really existed. Even fewer knew where it was. And as far as she could determine, no one presently living knew how to reach its inner sanctum.

  But she was about to find out.

  And that made her the most valuable person alive.

  Billie turned right onto Willemsbrug and began the mental process of planning a gigantic loop. The girl on the Vespa behind her seemed more serious now. The carefree smile had disappeared, only to be replaced by determination.

  The motorcycle rider, seemingly aware that Billie was onto her, became blatant in her movements to keep close. She laughed at herself for being so frightened. After all, they were only on motorcycles, Vespas actually, not even a real motorcycle, and she was in a car.

  What were they going to do to her?

  When she made another right back onto Weeperstraat, Billie was horrified to see the original yellow Vespa, the one that had followed her to the National Archives on her first day. It was parked on the intersection coming the other direction, but immediately turned in pursuit as she passed it.

  She sped up as, as the yellow Vespa followed.

  Billie pressed the call back button on her cell.

  “Sam! Where are you?”

  “Zaandam. I got stuck in traffic, but I’m doing my best. Are you all right?”

  “No, I’m not fucking all right! I have three motorcyclists after me, and I’m unarmed because of your suggestion!”

  Sam didn’t take the bait for the argument. “Well I’m not unarmed. I can assure you they’ll lose whatever interest they have in you pretty quickly when I arrive. Take it easy. Are you still on the same loop?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Don’t stop anywhere. I’ll find you. I’m coming from the other direction, but I’ll see you. Good luck.”

  “Fuck good luck! I want you to fix this, Sam!”

  “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

  Up ahead, Billie saw a light turn red.

  She began slowing down early, hoping that she wouldn’t have to come to a complete stop. Traffic was already building up at the intersection and she was worried it wouldn’t be long before she didn’t have a choice.

  In the end, she had to stop.

  She kept one foot on the brake, while the other revved the engine, ready to cross into the oncoming traffic if she needed to.

  The yellow Vespa pulled up alongside her.

  It was the same blond man who had been watching her at National Archives in Amsterdam. He wore an open faced helmet. He turned his head to look directly at her. The arrogant smile across his face made him look like any other man who was out for a great ride and had come across a beautiful woman stopped at the traffic lights.

  Her eyes carefully kept track of the two Vespas behind her, now stopped a couple car spaces back. Certain that someone was going to get off their bike and take her she didn’t let her eyes stop scanning the area.

  Billie hit the central lock button and all four doors locked simultaneously.

  It failed to reassure her. The car was small and would do little in the way of protecting her from bullets.

  The traffic light turned green.

  And the man in the yellow Vespa grinned at her and waved, before speeding off ahead until he disappeared into the sea of traffic.

  Well that’s something…

  She was starting to feel more confident that Sam was going to reach her in time. Up ahead, she approached the intersection of Willemsbrug and Stadhouderskade.

  Approaching the intersection, Billie was forced to slow down, as a man on a bicycle in front of her nearly came to a stop. Her eyes carefully monitored the closest Vespa behind her. Reassured that it wasn’t moving, she remained in the intersection for a split second longer than she should have after the bicycle had crossed the road.

  She then floored her accelerator and pulled into the intersection.

  Where a truck drove toward her at full speed.

  By the time she saw it, Billie had just enough time to hit her accelerator in a vain att
empt to avoid the collision. The truck struck the passenger side door, sending her forward and towards the wall of the dike.

  After the initial impact, she realized she wasn’t badly injured. Deciding whether to run toward the truck driver or make a run for it down the street, she was about to reach for the door handle when the truck’s engine roared into life again.

  It was pushing her toward the bridge.

  She slammed her foot hard on the brake.

  The side of her car struck the old stone wall with a jarring force. And then she felt everything give way as her car began rolling down the edge.

  Until she struck water!

  It floated for thirty or more seconds before the heavier engine block at the front of the car began dragging her down hood first.

  With a gush of bubbles, the entire car disappeared under the water.

  Chapter Two

  Sam Reilly spun his BMW S1000 RR, one of the fastest road bikes in existence, south along the A10 at speeds that would make any police officer doubt his vision. Cutting through the backstreets of Houthavens he reached the intersection of Willemsbrug and Stadhouderskade.

  He came to a stop at the intersection.

  Broken glass and shards of metal were strewn along the middle of the intersection. A long stretch of tire marks could be seen skidding along the bridge. Starting in the middle, his eyes followed them until they went over the edge of the old bridge.

  He was too late.

  They had got to her first.

  Sam pulled his throttle all the way back as he raced to the edge of the bridge where the remnants of the destroyed railing still remained.

  Below him, he could see a thousand or more bubbles still piercing the surface of the water, and an eerie glow from the headlights of the car below. Presumably the only remnants of Billie’s crashed car.

  It must have only just happened.

  Sam then stepped off his bike and looked over at the broken large sandstone blocks, which had previously formed the top layer of retaining wall. Without waiting to see who else had been there at the accident, he lifted up one of the large blocks. It took all his strength just to lift the sandstone. He took a single step to the edge of the bridge and stepped off – into the white, frothing water below.

  Chapter Three

  Billie opened her eyes to the sight of bubbles running along the windscreen. Her hand touched her forehead. There was something wet running past her eyes. Slightly disoriented, she pulled her hand back, and looked at it.

  There was blood.

  Where am I?

  In an instant, she recalled what had happened and where she was. Dazed for a moment, she quickly reached for the door handle. It didn’t move. She tried the unlock button, but the door wouldn’t budge.

  She tried the electric windows.

  Nothing happened.

  Adrenaline raged inside her as the realization that she was going to drown inside her own car terrified her. She thought through all the ways she’d read over the years to exit a flooded car – there weren’t many that worked.

  Billie fumbled as she rummaged through the glove box, desperately looking for anything solid enough to break a window.

  Tissue box – are you fucking kidding me!

  She squeezed into the back seat. Her shoulder bag rested there. She opened it and riffled through the contents. Her cell phone, wallet, and tablet. She cursed herself for leaving her laptop in the trunk today, instead of with her handbag next to her.

  Car keys, all plastic. No, that won’t help.

  The water was filling the car faster now.

  Panic tried to grip her, and she fought to maintain control. If she was to survive, she was going to have to stay focused.

  The water was now up to her neck.

  With the downward angle of the car, the remaining air pocket was sitting at the back window. She tried to squeeze her head into the top to breathe the last remaining air. Trying the door handle again, she found the pressure outside was too great.

  Billie returned to the back of the car and took another couple deep breaths, and then swam to the driver’s side door and tried to open it.

  Still too much pressure.

  She returned to take a final breath from the last pocket of air at the back window, before it completely filled with water.

  Now’s the time.

  I have to stay conscious long enough for the pressure to equalize.

  A loud crunching sound told her that the car had struck the shallow seabed. Below her, Billie thought she could hear another crack on the window at the driver’s door. She swam down to the front door, where the car was now completely filled with water.

  At the window, a masked man stared back at her.

  Covered in a black wetsuit, tinted facemask, and SCUBA gear, there was something oddly familiar about the man. He could have been any diver, but there was something else she recognized from her past. Where, she could not place.

  He smiled, and she recognized it.

  It seemed sinister somehow, and she remembered where she’d seen it before.

  The man tried to open the door, but the pressure was still too great. Holding her breath, Billie moved to the back doors as the diver continued to fight his way into her car. She hoped the pressure would equalize and she could escape through the back door while he came through the front.

  The diver looked as though he realized what she was thinking at the same time. It gave him additional strength, and after fighting one more time with the door, he slammed his elbow into the window, sending a crack right across it.

  For a moment, Billie thought the window would hold.

  Then he struck it again with his elbow, breaking through the window completely. She watched the man remove the last shards of the window quickly, as he tried to squeeze through.

  Billie perched her back on the floor of the rear seats and pushed with legs against the back door as hard as she could. It didn’t budge on the first attempt, and she was already losing focus as the effects of hypoxia attacked her brain.

  She held onto the door handle and kicked it again.

  This time, the water pressure had equalized, and the door flung open. She turned to swim out. But her head was stuck on something, and as her world darkened, she began to lose the direction of the surface.

  Disoriented and frustrated, she felt the calm that often came before one accepted their death in drowning. It wasn’t that she’d given up, simply a matter of accepting that she’d failed despite her best efforts.

  As her lungs burned with pain and desire, she opened her mouth to take a deep breath of ocean water – and discovered a diving regulator being shoved inside her mouth by a large gloved hand.

  She involuntarily took a deep breath.

  It tasted sweeter than air – almost sugary -- but it soothed the pain in her chest, so she continued to take long deep breaths. By the third, everything seemed to go funny again, and then the world went dark.

  What has he given me?

  And with the fourth breath, all the worries of the world disappeared.

  Chapter Four

  With the heavy landscaping block in his arms, Sam sank to the seabed below. Billie’s Renault Twingo could be seen resting on the sandy bottom. A few remaining bubbles dribbled out. The trunk had been opened, as though she had thought to remove her laptop. The information inside was worth millions of dollars.

  Sam reached the front door.

  Its window had been broken. He scanned the area to see if he could spot Billie, but there was nothing but murky water. He opened the door to make certain she wasn’t stuck inside. The passenger compartment was empty, the glovebox open, and the back door on the other side half ajar.

  Thank God, she got out!

  He dropped the heavy block and then quickly swam to the other side of the car to see if he could see her. Again, nothing. He checked the sand below to make sure he hadn’t missed her, and then calmly swam to the surface, feeling confident they had been lucky.

  It
was a wakeup call that their exploits to reach Atlantis were being pursued by others, but at least she’d survived. And now they would be much more cautious.

  Sam broke the surface of the water with his head and breathed deeply. On the surface, he quickly looked around, expecting to see Billie swimming towards the bank of the dike. But he couldn’t see her in the water. He rotated three hundred and sixty degrees, trying to find her.

  Sam was the only person in the water.

  He looked towards the edge of the water, and scanned the faces of the several bystanders who still looked worried.

  She wasn’t amongst them.

  “Did anyone come up?” he yelled at them.

  Most people ignored his question, either because they didn’t speak English, or didn’t know the answer.

  “Please, there was a woman in this car! Did anyone see her come up from the water below?”

  A man looked straight at him and said, “No, sir. I saw her crash, but I have not seen her surface the water.”

  Sam ignored the man’s response and immediately dived below again.

  Frantically, he examined the car from a new perspective. He saw it this time. The front driver’s window had been smashed from the outside. The rear passenger door remained opened and undamaged, giving the impression she’d escaped through it.

  Had someone else come in after her?

  Before he’d thought anymore, he knew that he was right. Sam carefully scanned the area around them, looking for any signs of whoever took Billie.

  There was nothing.

  He returned to the surface, swam to the edge and got back on his motorcycle. There, he picked up his cell phone and hit the call button.

  “Tom, we have a problem. They got to her.”

  Chapter Five

  Andrew Brandt looked at the woman beneath him.

  Despite approaching forty, her skin was delicate as it was white and smooth. Her blue eyes stared at him with wanton desire. Her ordinarily demure smile now contorted in pursed lips as she began to cry out in pleasure.