Vanished

by S. L. Menear

He leaned in and coughed. “I could really use a good long sleep. How about you?”

  “I can barely keep my eyes open, but I’d like to have breakfast first so my stomach doesn’t wake me later.” My belly rumbled. “Let’s hurry into that air-conditioned conference room.”

  “The base commander will want an after-action report. Keep it short and simple. My gut’s howlin’ for some chow.”

  I poked Lance. “Hey, that’s the Starr Corporation’s G650 parked over there.”

  Lance smiled. “I knew we could count on them. They’ll do anything for your family.”

  We straggled into the briefing room and settled around the conference table with our teammates. The satchel holding the sphere lay motionless on my lap.

  The base commander sat at one end of the table, and our friend, Commander Robert Metz from Navy Intelligence, sat at the other end. He didn’t look happy. Bob waved a printed paper at me. “I was told a soldier got this from a civilian who was paid to deliver it here to Samantha Starr.”

  “Me? What does it say?” I had a feeling it wasn’t good news.

  “The message is from Lord Edgar Sweetwater. It reads: ‘Samantha, I have Captain Ross Sinclair and Lieutenant Derek Dunbar. Deliver the Blue Dragon to me within seven days from now or I’ll feed your boyfriend and his buddy to my hungry lions. You’ll receive delivery instructions later.’”

  I glanced at my alarmed teammates.

  The base commander leaned forward. “Blue Dragon? Is that some sort of weapon?”

  Probably worried about her boyfriend Derek, Lisa bit her lip. “We might have it. Sam, show the commanders what we found in that underground chamber.”

  My team slid their chairs back when I unzipped the canvas satchel.

  Noting my teammates’ apprehension, Bob asked, “Is that thing safe?”

  “I’ll keep it pointed at the ceiling just in case.” I pulled out the silver-blue sphere. “There’s a long, blue marquise diamond inside mounted vertically, and it fires a laser.”

  Bob looked at me. “Is it a weapon, like that pyramid sculpture you found in Hong Kong?”

  I nodded. “Both artifacts have powerful laser beams.”

  The base commander focused on it. “Is the round casing made of anodized aluminum?”

  Banger couldn’t resist saying, “Sam said it might be a rare metal she calls unobtainium.”

  I glared at the big guy. “He’s joking, but the device could be the Blue Dragon. Let me call Harvard Professor Ben Armitage and verify it. He’s an expert on ancient artifacts.”

  Bob and the base commander nodded.

  I dialed Ben’s number on my satellite phone and put it on speaker. When he answered, I said, “Hi, Ben, it’s Sam. No time for chit-chat. I need your expertise on a life-or-death matter concerning an ancient artifact. Do you know anything about something called the Blue Dragon hidden somewhere in Africa?”

  “Well, hello to you too, Sam. I’ve been consulting with the Pentagon on those Atlantean archives you recovered. The translation program you helped them set up has proved invaluable. The government asked me to help them search the archives for mention of more weapons of mass destruction that Atlanteans may have hidden around the world.” He hesitated. “I recall reading about something called the Blue Dragon. Hold on while I consult my notes.”

  We waited a few minutes.

  “Ah, here it is: a fail-safe project the Atlanteans called the Blue Dragon, which was intended to ensure their future. The description is vague except for a blue, two-foot-long, marquise-shaped power diamond, similar in size to the power diamonds in the two halves of the Poseidon’s Sword WMD.”

  “Could it need an unusual key to operate it, like the artifact I found in Hong Kong for Poseidon’s Sword?” I stroked the shiny, silver-blue sphere.

  “It’s possible, Sam. Did you find something like that?”

  “We found a sphere in a circular chamber eight hundred feet beneath a church in Lalibela, Ethiopia. It’s ten inches in diameter and made of an unknown silver-blue metal. And it has a portal that opens above a long, blue marquise diamond that shoots a powerful laser beam. Oh, and it flies on its own at great speed without making a sound.”

  I glanced at Bob. His jaw dropped.

  “How do you know that?” Ben asked, his tone incredulous.

  “I saw it do those things. The laser activated shortly after I touched the tip of the diamond.” I explained everything I’d seen. “It seems I’m the only one who can touch the sphere without getting shocked.” I glanced at both commanders, who stared at me, mouths agape. Was it my fake facial hair or the silver-blue ball?

  “Sounds like it may be an important component of the Blue Dragon device. Better keep it with you when you search.” Ben paused. “I flagged every reference to any Queen of Atlantis. There’s something that might help you find that weapon. I don’t know precisely where it’s hidden, but the scrolls say there’s a gold cylinder in Thonis-Heracleion that will guide the Queen of Atlantis to the location of the Blue Dragon.”

  “And where is Thonis-Heracleion?”

  “Ah, it was an ancient city built around the twelfth century BC near the Canopic mouth of the Nile, thirty-two kilometers northeast of Alexandria.”

  “Are you saying I can drive there?”

  “Not now. After a combination of earthquakes, tsunamis, rising sea levels, and a severe flood, the clay ground rapidly liquefied, causing the buildings to submerge.” He paused. “The city sank beneath the Mediterranean Sea at the mouth of the Nile. Its ruins are currently located in Abu Qir Bay, thirty feet underwater approximately two and a half kilometers off the coast. Frank Goddio’s team found it twenty years ago and is slowly excavating the site, bringing up huge statues intact, gold coins, and artifacts.”

  “Have they recovered the item I need?”

  “Not yet. I’ve been keeping abreast of their discoveries—lots of exciting finds. I doubt they know about the cylinder.” He paused. “I visited the site last year, and it’s well guarded, so I suggest you sneak in underwater late at night. Chances are the artifact will be where powerful ley lines intersect.”

  “Thanks for your help, Ben. I hope this works out.”

  “My pleasure, Sam. Call me if there’s anything else I can do.” He disconnected.

  I placed the sphere back inside the satchel. “We’ll need breakfast and sleep before we go scuba diving in Egypt. I saw the corporate Gulfstream parked at the airfield. Is the crew rested?”

  “They arrived yesterday evening, and the jet is fueled and ready.” Bob glanced at the base commander. “Now that there’s a possible WMD involved, your team will get priority—whatever you need to find the Blue Dragon. Obviously, you won’t hand it over to Lord Sweetwater.”

  “No, but we’ll need a plan to make it seem like I’m delivering it to him. We have to save Ross and Derek.”

  “If you find it within the allotted time, we’ll figure something out. I suggest you bring along whatever equipment you may need to explore other locations in addition to the dive site.” Bob hesitated. “I can see you’re exhausted. You and Lisa might want to remove your beards and mustaches before breakfast. Shower and change clothes while I handle the details. You can sleep in the reclining seats on your jet. That way you’ll get to Alexandria in time for a night dive.”

  Mike jotted down several items. “Here’s our necessary equipment list. Any chance DARPA has underwater night-vision goggles?”

  Bob nodded. “I’ll have them send three on a fast-mover for you, Banger, and Sam. The rest of your team should remain topside and keep watch.”

  “Thank you.” Mike turned to the base commander. “Sir, will you make arrangements to compensate the AN-2’s owner and help him get his airplane repaired?”

  “I’ll take care of it.” He glanced at Lisa. “Can you get new diplomatic passports for the team and the corporate pilots?”

  “No problem. The embassy in Mogadishu can make new ones easily now that we’re in their database. I’l
l send them photos of the pilots. I’d better use their real names so the passports match their pilot licenses.”

  “Their names are Captain Bill Hiller and First Officer Laura Burke. You’ll find them in the mess hall.” The base commander stood. “Team dismissed.”

  Eleven

  Sweetwater’s Hideout

  Sweetwater’s voice blared on the loudspeaker in Ross and Derek’s cage. “I’d hate for you to get bored, so I’ve arranged a show for you—another man who failed me. Consider this a preview of coming attractions, starring you.”

  Ross stood and whispered to Derek, “Not again.”

  “Looks that way,” Derek whispered. “Sweetwater’s a sick bastard.”

  “True, but I don’t think he’s keeping us alive just to prolong our angst about becoming dinner.” Ross paused when guards shoved a naked man through the entry gate for the lion pen.

  His hands were tied behind his back, and his chest and belly bled from numerous shallow wounds.

  “Hey, I recognize him.” Ross squinted in the afternoon sun. “Aye, that’s Arkady Baranov, Sweetwater’s general.”

  “Looks like he’s about to be permanently demoted.” Derek moved closer to the bars.

  “Why haven’t his soldiers killed Sweetwater?” Ross shook his head. “There can’t be any loyalty to a man like that.”

  Derek rubbed his thumb against his fingers. “It’s all about the money. As long as he pays top dollar, they’ll stay and roll the dice.”

  Lions closed in on the bleeding Russian, and he made a run for the cage in the center of the pen. He’d almost reached the bars when a lioness pounced on his back and shredded his flesh with her claws. His shrill screams were short-lived.

  Goosebumps covered the Scotsmen. They turned away as blood from Arkady’s severed artery sprayed the cage.

  Ross clenched his fists. “I hope a lion tears Sweetwater to shreds.”

  Thonis-Heracleion

  Running lights on guard boats patrolling the archaeological site, combined with reflections from a starry sky and a bright full moon, shimmered on the calm water of Abu Qir Bay.

  Warm air swirled around me as I zipped up my neoprene wetsuit and studied the full facemask newly developed by DARPA. “Guys, I love this mask—night vision combined with a voice-activated microphone.”

  Mike nodded. “The underwater dig is only a mile and a half from shore, but it’s spread out over a wide area.” He checked the dive gear and loaded the special vest-mounted rebreather air tanks into the boat. “Good thing we have the GPS coordinates for that intersection of ley lines.”

  “With any luck, we won’t need these lights with the night-vision masks.” Banger clipped dive lights on the buoyancy-compensator vests. “And our rebreather units won’t leave bubbles for the guards to spot.”

  “I just hope we won’t need to dig.” Mike fingered his mask. “The water is clear now, but the instant we disturb the silt, visibility will go to zero.”

  I glanced out over the dark water as I pulled on my dive gloves. “The cylinder was meant to be found by an Atlantean queen, so it has to radiate energy that can be felt. Otherwise, I may never find it.” I zipped the Eye into a side pocket on my BC vest.

  Mike handed me some unusual-looking bags. “These are tactical lift bags. You shove the U-shaped cuff around an enemy’s ankle and squeeze it together to lock it. The lock triggers a CO2 cartridge that instantly inflates the bag and yanks the bad guy feet-first to the surface.” He grinned. “The Navy uses these to interdict enemy divers trying to sneak into our submarine bases.”

  “It’s always fun to have a new toy.” I clipped a lift bag to my vest.

  Lance patted one of the two 400-hp Mercury outboard motors mounted on the stern. “These babies will outrun those guard boats—probably make seventy knots or more.”

  “We’d better anchor about a half mile outside the restricted area so guards don’t spot the dive gear.” Lisa pointed off to the side of a lighted buoy.

  Mike stepped aboard and slipped into his BC vest, then glanced at Banger and me. “I want us ready to go over the side the moment the boat stops. Bryce will monitor our comms, and Lisa and Lance will keep watch.” He turned to Bryce. “If you have to leave us to maintain your fishing cover, do it. We can always swim a mile and a half to shore.”

  I climbed aboard, donned my dive gear, and clipped a waterproof pouch holding the sphere to the front of my BC vest. Then I sat along the side rail and pulled on my fins. “Lovely night for a dive. Should be fun.”

  “Why are you taking that thing on the dive?” Mike edged away from me on the seat.

  “We don’t want to risk losing it.” I set the bagged device on my lap and stared at it. “It’s been dormant since I started carrying it. I’m worried if I leave it behind, it might decide to fly away.”

  “Then don’t swim directly behind me in case it decides to turn on the laser again.” Mike gave the bag a sideways glance and checked his weapons.

  Something big disturbed the water nearby, leaving a trail of ripples.

  Banger sat across from me. “This’ll be a lot easier than diving in Atlantis. No megalodons or krakens in these shallow waters.” He scanned the Mediterranean Sea on the dark horizon. “Could be sharks.” He handed me a ballistic speargun.

  Lisa cracked open the breach on her rifle as Lance shoved us away from the pier. Bryce shifted into forward gear and eased the throttles up to the stops, the marine engines roaring as we raced into the bay. I grabbed the side rail as we skimmed over the calm water. The wind helped cool my wet-suited body in the warm Egyptian air.

  When we neared our chosen drop point, Mike signaled for us divers to do a communications check with each other and with Bryce on the surface radio.

  I twisted the knob that opened my rebreather tank’s air valve and donned the full facemask.

  “Testing, one, two, three,” Bryce said, followed by Mike, Banger, and me responding.

  The dive team agreed everyone came through loud and clear.

  I pulled off my mask, turned off the air, and waited as sweat trickled down my back under the hot wetsuit.

  “After we enter the water, the boat will ease up as close as possible to the restricted area, and the surface team will pretend to fish.” Mike tapped his mask. “Our DARPA comm system has a thousand-foot range, which is farther than civilian comms, but even at a shallow depth, we’ll be out of range with the dive boat for most of our dive.”

  A few minutes later, Mike looked at Banger and me. “Dive in ten seconds.”

  We turned on our air and fitted our masks as the boat coasted to a stop. I sat on the rail, clipped a speargun to my vest, and rolled backward into the bay. Cool water invaded my wetsuit, giving me instant relief from the heat as I descended and paused a few seconds to clear my ears.

  In moments, Mike and Banger were at my side.

  “The bottom is at thirty feet, and we don’t want to stir up the silt, so maintain fifteen feet on the way there. I’ll lead.” Mike checked us over before he swam ahead.

  “Copy that, brother dear.” I liked that we were able to talk to each other via the comm units inside our full facemasks.

  We set out in a V-formation with me on Mike’s left and Banger on his right.

  We’d covered about a thousand yards when the sphere seemed to come alive. The bag holding it jerked in front of me, straining against the two-foot tether. I grabbed the line as the device pulled me forward and accelerated. My body twisted from side to side as the speed increased.

  When I zoomed past him, Mike yelled, “Sam, what’s happening?”

  “The sphere is pulling me really fast, but I don’t know where or why.”

  “Hang on and we’ll try to track you.” Mike’s voice was fading.

  “I hope it’s pulling me to the ley-line intersection we plotted.”

  “Try to stay low and out of view from surface boats.” Mike’s voice sounded fainter.

  “Maybe I’ll meet you with cylinder in ha
nd.” Despite my best efforts, my tone radiated fear.

  “Right, because everything’s always easy when you’re involved,” Banger said, his sarcastic voice fading too.

  “Hey, I’m doing my best.” I gripped the tether tightly as the globe increased speed, the water blurring around me. In seconds, I was out of comm range.

  Nearby outboard motors made deep rumbling noises as I entered the guarded area. Wish I knew where this thing was going.

  Huge statues of pharaohs, gods, and goddesses rose up out of the bottom silt in a macabre reminder of an ancient disaster. Most of the sculptures seemed intact, all trapped in the port city that had sunk into the sea thousands of years ago. Columns covered in Egyptian hieroglyphics marked the remains of government buildings and temples.

  Even though my team probably couldn’t hear me, I said, “Almost there—I hear guard boats.” I winced when the artifact pulling me made a sharp zigzag to miss a big statue, and my body glanced off the side of the stone sculpture.

  I had barely recovered from my painful collision when the round device stopped in front of an enormous stone head and torso depicting the goddess Isis. My momentum caused me to slam into the statue. I recognized her from the image the Eye had shown me on the bank of the Blue Nile River. Her lower half was still buried in silt. Judging by the proportions, she had to be at least twenty feet tall.

  The satchel holding the silver-blue globe floated in front of me, and the tether was still secured to my vest. Am I safe now? Is it dormant again?

  The huge face in front of me looked serene. Isis wore a headband embedded in the stone with a four-inch-diameter gold medallion in its center. Giant emeralds formed her eyes.

  My head tingled, sensing the electromagnetic energy emanating from her. I was about to touch her face when the sphere switched on its laser and fired through the waterproof bag, zapping the center of the gold medallion.

  Just one quick blast of energy, then the laser extinguished.

  I shut my eyes the instant the laser flashed on, but stars blazed across my vision for a few minutes because the night-vision facemask magnified the light. When my sight had recovered, I stared into an opening in Isis’s forehead. The medallion had been a hatch, opened by the laser.