The Sam Reilly Collection Volume 2

by Christopher Cartwright

  His heart started to race. Sam’s body wasn’t being tested. He’d been a free-diver since he was a boy. If he was going to die here, it wasn’t going to be from drowning.

  What if I’m in the wrong well?

  He turned slowly in the cramped space to look directly above. He was glad the well hadn’t been dug any narrower or he would have struggled to turn around inside. To help, he used his right hand to hold the largest of five boulders at the bottom of the well. He pulled hard and shifted his body around to face upwards.

  Happy, to have made the turn, he gripped the stone again to keep himself from surfacing immediately.

  In an instant, the stone began to lift with him.

  Did my hand just slip?

  Sam moved the glow stick so he could see the stone. It still appeared firmly fixed in place where he’d seen it earlier. He pushed harder, but it made no difference. His lungs burned and as his dive watch showed he’d been free diving for close to two minutes. Sam shook his head, unable to explain what moved, and quickly swam to the surface.

  Above the surface of the water he went through a process of blowing off the excess carbon dioxide built up during his dive, by taking slow, deep breaths. Two minutes later, he turned and dived below again.

  This time he immediately dived to the large stone he thought had moved so he could examine it again. Sam was almost certain the thing had moved. He tried pushing it to the left and then to the right. Neither allowed him to shift the enormous stone even an inch. He pulled down heavily on the stone. Again, nothing moved. He shook his head, he must have been imagining things.

  There was no secret vault.

  And that meant it was all over. He’d gotten it wrong. Perhaps their agent had never buried the diamonds inside a well after all. Sam used the same stone to help turn himself upwards again. He would need to tell the others. It was time to make a new plan.

  Maybe there was still time to kill the four closest riders and take their camels?

  He pushed off the large stone to swim towards the surface. Only this time, it moved again. He hadn’t imagined it. There was definitely movement as he pushed away. Sam stopped and stared at the giant stone, examining it like a surgeon preparing for an amputation. He went through the same three axis of movement which were possible and then tried the one axis that was impossible – lifting the massive stone upwards.

  The stone was enormous. Nearly three feet in height, the massive stone looked like it was wedged deeply inside the wall, making it impossible to lift. He didn’t expect much response as he attempted to lift the stone, but instead found it lifted freely from the ground – revealing an opening inside.

  With his other hand he moved the glow stick so it shined inside. The opening was quite large once you got through the initial entrance. He tried lowering it again and then easily lifted it once more.

  Sam grinned.

  The damned thing is perfectly balanced on a fulcrum!

  He gritted his teeth, and holding the glow stick out in front of him, quickly pulled himself through the secret opening.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  The entrance lead to a much larger tunnel. It traversed in a horizontal direction for approximately twenty feet before gradually turning upwards. The distance didn’t stress him, but would be close to impossible for a non-free-diver. He hadn’t even considered if there was even air on the opposite side of it.

  He’d already passed the point of no return. Now, all he could do was swim into the darkness and pray that he would find a safe exit. He kicked his legs, swimming diagonally upwards until his head broke the dark surface.

  The other side opened into a large clearing, like a subterranean lake. The radiant green light of his glow stick stretched at least fifty feet forwards in a forwards arc. Sam swam upwards until his head broke the surface of the water and he found himself inside a massive subterranean cavern. He took a deep breath in. The air felt cool and sweet on his throat. He felt his heart rate eased and he felt his entire body relax.

  The green glow stretched to the other end of the cavern – approximately fifty to sixty feet away. The entire place looked like a half dome shaped cave above an underground lake. It would be a cold, wet, place to take refuge for a number of days while they lost their pursuers, but it would do the job. His biggest concern was that if they couldn’t get out of the water they would freeze to death.

  Sam turned around to orient himself and make the quick journey back to the well to get the others. In the process he noticed the tiny ripples he’d created along the surface all stopped at the same section at the middle of the lake.

  He grinned. There was an island at the center of the lake.

  Sam didn’t stop to investigate. He’d found what they needed to hide from their pursuers and cheat death. Now he needed to quickly return for Tom and Zara. He found the opening to the original tunnel and followed it all the way to the end where the large stone blocked his progress. The light from his glow stick was fading and without it, the tunnel appeared extremely dark.

  The tunnel gradually became narrower until the stone blocked his progress. Sam placed his hands firmly on the ground and tried to push down as though he were doing a push-up with the stone resting heavily on his back. It didn’t take too much effort and the stone tipped backwards opening the tunnel fully.

  He climbed through the opening. Inside the well once more, he turned to the light and pushed off the sandy bottom. Kicking hard, he swam to the surface. His head broke the surface and he took a deep breath of air again.

  Sam placed his left foot in front and his right one behind. He used the oppositional force to step up so his torso rose above the water’s surface. Using his hands for balance, he placed additional weight on the balls of his feet and pushed downward.

  His left leg held, but his right one slipped and he fell back into the water. The water made the well slippery to climb. He tried again and achieved the same result. On the fourth time he used his right hand to grip a curved stone in the wall of the well and pulled himself out of the water. He slowly kicked free some of the water on his feet and then commenced climbing again. It took around four to five minutes to reach the top of the well. Sam climbed out and saw Zara staring back at him.

  “I found it!” he said, looking at her. He smiled. It was gloating and came naturally. “I told you it would be here.”

  Zara stared at him, but said nothing. She blinked and her long dark lashes opened. In the afternoon light, her eyes appeared dark and unreadable. Behind him, Sam heard the distinctive loud click of a large magazine being slid rearward and secured into the mag well of an AK-47.

  Sam didn’t bother to turn around. His eyes met Zara’s at once. They revealed the despondency of their fate in an instant.

  She shrugged. “I’m sorry, Sam. They found us, first.”

  Sam took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly. He figured it was a good sign they hadn’t killed him yet. He casually turned around to see all four riders aiming directly at the two of them. He raised his arms suppliantly and smiled. “I was wondering when you would finally catch up.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Sam glanced at his own AK-47. It stood upright about five feet away, with the butt of the weapon sticking into the sand next to the well where he’d left it with the hope of protecting the weapon from the sand while he dived the well. Zara had told him, she predicted it would take at least another hour for the riders to catch up with them. Even so, he should have been better prepared. He should have been faster down the well and back up again. None of that mattered now – because he’d gotten it all wrong. It might just be the last mistake he would get to make.

  His eyes darted back toward his attackers. They wore the indigo blue robes of the Tuareg nomads and all but their eyes were covered in protective cloth. One held an AK-47 pointed casually toward him, as though the rider knew it wasn’t going to be needed to persuade him to hand over the book. The other three carried Sterling submachine guns. All four appeared amateuris
h in the way they held their weapons. More like kids who’d recently been given toys than professionals. Even so, Kony 2012 showed just how well the AK-47 had been used to kill a lot of people by child soldiers throughout Africa. At a glance, the AK-47 looked clean and well oiled, while the other three weapons were old and poorly maintained.

  Sam glanced at the Sterling submachine guns.

  The bolt was open, with the working parts held to the rear of the weapon. Like other open-bolt weapons, the bolt goes forward when the trigger is pulled, feeding a round from the magazine into the chamber and firing it. Like any other self-loading design without an external power supply, the action is cycled by the energy of the shot, which sends the bolt back to the rear, ejecting the empty cartridge case and preparing for the next shot. It meant that it didn’t take much effort to fire and keep firing.

  He noticed the bolts had helical grooves cut into the surface. The purpose being to remove dirt and fouling from the inside of the receiver to increase reliability in the Sahara where sand was abundant. Without exception, each groove appeared blocked with sand and the riders were ignorant or too lazy to dismantle and clean it. The weapons hadn’t been stripped and oiled in a very long time. If he got lucky, in a firefight, at least one of the weapons would probably jam and misfire – but three working weapons against none was still a very uneven fight.

  Sam looked at his attackers. His hands remained in the air in supplication. “All right, now what?”

  The rider with the AK-47 dismounted her camel. She spoke with the authority of one used to being obeyed. “Now, you hand over the book of Nostradamus.”

  “What book?”

  She smiled at him. “Cute. But I’m afraid I don’t have a lot of time. You may not have noticed but we have an army following, and they’re not going to be quite as nice when they get here. Your friend has already told me she stole the book and you hid it for her down the well.”

  Sam forced himself to smile. “So, if you know where it is, why don’t you go get it yourself?

  “Because I have no intention of climbing down that well,” she said. “Instead, I’m counting on your kindness.”

  “Kindness! You think General Ngige is going to show a great kindness to the people of the DRC?”

  The woman in command laughed. “You still think General Ngige’s in control here, don’t you?”

  Sam asked, “He isn’t?”

  “No.”

  Sam was genuinely surprised by the new information. “From what I’ve heard, he’s the head of the rebellion?”

  “That’s because the world looks at the puppet and rarely at the puppet master.”

  “Someone else is pulling the strings?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who?”

  “Someone who’s interested in starting the largest war to ever effect Africa and doesn’t wish to be found. Someone who wants the book of Nostradamus destroyed before the future becomes irreparable.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t help you,” Sam said.

  “Mr. Reilly, I don’t think you understand what’s at stake here. You are exposing the future to the greatest danger it’s ever seen.”

  The use of his name shocked him. Up until that point, Sam had assumed the riders were nomads who had chosen to get rich fast off a bounty. They were hunting Zara Delacroix, but shouldn’t have had any idea who he was. “Who are you?”

  “My name’s not important. I’m not important. I’m a Tuareg nomad. A wanderer and a nobody. I perform unique tasks throughout the harsh land of the Sahara. Today I am merely a messenger. And I’m here to tell you it’s time to change sides. The US government backed the wrong person and the future won’t tolerate it.”

  Zara stared at her without saying a word.

  “The future won’t tolerate it?” Sam asked. “I didn’t realize the future wanted anything.”

  “That’s one of the many things you’ve recently gotten wrong. The future is set. It knows what should happen. Not what is easy, but what is necessary. My master knows what it wants. Nostradamus knew what it wanted and was too weak to obey its will. He chose to challenge the future and instead was killed by it.”

  “The future killed Nostradamus?” Sam asked. “I thought he died in his bed after suffering with gout and poor mobility for years?”

  “After making his journey into the unmapped and dangerous Sahara to bury his book, Nostradamus spent many months subsisting on shellfish along the North African coast until he was picked up by a European slave ship.”

  Sam stared at her, unable to follow her train of thought. “And so?”

  “Shellfish are rich in purines.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m still not following you.”

  “Purines break down into uric acid, which form into crystals that deposit in the joints and cause pain and inflammation.”

  “And you think the future did this to stop Nostradamus from challenging its path?”

  “No. Nostradamus had already made his attempt to change what will and must occur.”

  “So, why poison him then?”

  “The future was punishing him.”

  She’s talking as though the future is a living, breathing, evil thing. “Okay, let me get this straight. Nostradamus thought he’d found a way to beat the future, so he wrote a book and buried it in the Saharan desert where no one could possibly find it until Dr. Delacroix arrived.”

  His captor nodded and said nothing.

  “So, what’s inside the book of Nostradamus?” Sam asked.

  No one answered.

  “What doesn’t the future want changed?” he persisted.

  His captor turned to face Zara. “Do you want to tell him what you discovered inside the book of Nostradamus?”

  Zara shook her head. “No. I can’t!”

  Their captor lowered the AK-47 at Zara. “You can and you must!”

  “I haven’t worked it out yet. I don’t know!”

  “Yes you do. You just refuse to accept it! Now, tell him!”

  Zara looked at the weapons pointing at them and then back at him. Her jaw was set firm and her eyes piercing as though she’d come to a decision with terrible consequences. “I’m sorry.”

  “Then I’ll tell him!” Their captor said. “The future will –” her words stopped as a multitude of bullets tore through her chest.

  Zara was the first to recover. She ducked down and threw a handful of sand in the eyes of the other three assailants. Sam tackled the one closest to him, who pulled at the trigger sending a barrage of bullets into the air in a wide arc.

  Next to him, the second nomad fought with the Sterling’s bolt which had jammed. While Sam struggled to get control of the nomad he’d tackled, the third assailant aimed directly at him. The man took three steps toward him and shoved the barrel of his submachine gun hard against him.

  Sam felt the pressure on his temple. The man was making certain he didn’t miss and get the other guy. His confidence meant that Zara was already dead. He gritted his teeth, as though his will alone could somehow stave off his death.

  A moment later he heard the trigger click and the shot fire.

  You really do get to hear the sound of the shot that kills you? A split second later, Sam felt the pressure of the submachine gun’s barrel ease away from his temple. He turned his head slightly and saw a fine mist of red where his attacker fell.

  Sam turned his vision toward the sandy crest in the opposite direction. There, nestled high up on the sand dune behind them, Tom was standing up, having taken the man out a moment before he was able to fire.

  At the same time Zara kneed the remaining nomad in his groin. He dropped the Sterling submachine gun with the jammed bolt. The weapon dropped to the ground. It landed on the hard edge of the well. The force dislodged the bolt and the Sterling emptied all thirty-four rounds aimlessly.

  Sam dropped into the dune. The sharp whine of bullets flying past him making him hug the ground desperately. When the Sterling finally stopped firing Sam stood up. It had kill
ed the two remaining attackers. He quickly ran over to the woman who had been in charge. She’d been struck in the chest and was bleeding hard. There was nothing he could do to prolong her life.

  Sam said, “Please. I need to know. What is this all about?”

  She turned to face him. Blood draining from her mouth with every breath. Sam sat her up and rested her back against his knee. She coughed and some more frothing blood expelled from her mouth. She tried to talk, but the words wouldn’t come out.

  “What is it?” Sam asked, desperately. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Protect the future!”

  Chapter Forty

  Sam watched as the stranger who’d been his captor just minutes beforehand gave up the will to breathe. She coughed a few more times as her body vainly attempted to expel the blood from her lungs and then stopped completely. Sam didn’t bother to check for a pulse. Without an immediate surgical facility and team of cardiothoracic surgeons, her injuries were unsustainable. She would be dead soon and there was nothing he could do to rouse her enough to answer the question he so desperately needed to know.

  Zara brushed away a couple of flies from her face, already drawn by the smell of death. “Well, that worked well. I was beginning to worry Tom had lost interest in the plan – it took him so long to shoot.”

  Sam said, “I wish he had.”

  Zara bent down to take a Sterling submachine gun from one of the deceased and search for spare magazines. “What the hell does that mean?”

  Sam grabbed the newer AK-47 and three additional full magazines. “It means I want to know what was really inside the book of Nostradamus.”

  “I told you, I don’t know what was inside the book. It’s filled with riddles. So far, my time’s been spent a little preoccupied since I found the damned book, trying to keep myself alive. As I told you, the letter that Nostradamus addressed to me, described his visions of the future as a series of strings of significance. Watershed moments that changed everything. Big changes. These have carried on through the ages. With each possible event, he’s seen the subsequent strings for both futures. But for my generation all human strings cease to exist.”