The Sam Reilly Collection Volume 2

by Christopher Cartwright

  Veyron shook her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Ma’am.”

  She nodded. “Thanks for getting us out of Libya.”

  The loud whine of the Sikorsky’s engines finally ceased, and the blades became silent as they slowly settled, and stopped turning. Sam watched as Genevieve climbed out of the cockpit. She wore an expression which said I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks, right now. Her hair, so dark brown it was nearly black, was cut short and neatly tied back, giving her the appearance of an elf. Probably the most deadly elf on the planet. She had deep blue eyes, full of intelligence, and long eyelashes. She wore no makeup whatsoever. Never did. Her naturally tan complexion appeared to be the result of hours working under the sun, rather than genetic heritage.

  Sam smiled, as she walked straight up to Tom and threw her arms around his neck. She kissed him passionately on his lips. It lasted about thirty seconds, and then she broke the entanglement, and walked away, having said nothing.

  Sam smiled at her as she went past. “Thanks for coming and getting us, Genevieve.”

  Genevieve met his eyes, ignored his comment and said, “Not a word, Sam. I don’t want to hear a word.”

  He turned to make a comment to Veyron, but the man quickly turned to run through a series of safety checks on the Sikorsky.

  Elise stepped onto the deck. “So, you made it.”

  Sam smiled. “We made it. I hear you came looking for us. Thank you.”

  “Forget about it. I was mostly indifferent. I figured you got yourself into the problem, you could get yourself out of it. But Genevieve was pretty keen to come get the two you, and equally keen to kill anyone who got in her way.”

  “Yes, well, I guess we now know why she was so emphatic.” He turned to Zara, “This is Zara Delacroix. She’s the reason we were late.”

  Elise looked at Zara, studying her like she would a fine painting. She smiled, reassuringly. “So, you survived. What about the book? Are you still in possession of it?”

  Zara nodded. “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  Sam asked, “How do you know about Zara and the book?”

  Elise's smile was mischievous and tormenting at the same time, without revealing anything about what she knew. “We have a visitor, Sam. You’re going to want to meet him, right away. We found him at a Libyan archeological camp. He says he’s heavily involved in the United Sovereign of Kongo and he needs your help. Oh, and bring the girl, she's going to want to hear what he has to say, too.”

  Chapter Eighty-Four

  Adebowale sat up when he saw his visitors enter. His wounds were healing well despite it only being two days since Elise and Genevieve found him in the camp and managed to remove the bullets in his abdomen. They didn’t bother trying to find the one imbedded in his head. Elise had informed him that he would die in a matter of months if it wasn’t properly operated on by a neurosurgeon. He’d refused to lose the time it would take to travel to a mainland hospital and then perform the risky procedure. Besides, what did it matter to him? He already knew how he was going to die, and it wasn’t from an infection in the brain, that’s for certain.

  He smiled and offered his hand. “Sam Reilly. It is nice to meet you.”

  Sam gripped his hand, warmly. “Adebowale. It’s good to meet you, too. I have to tell you, my position in Sahara was purely as a treasure hunter, trying to locate some lost diamonds, and I’m not authorized to negotiate any deals on behalf my government.”

  “That’s fine. I don’t need the help of your government to do what must be done. What I need, is your help.”

  “My help?”

  “I will explain soon.” Adebowale glanced at Zara, who was standing quietly beside Sam. “Why Doctor, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so lost for words.”

  She blushed. “I’m sorry, Adebowale. I thought you were dead, as the result of my own failure. I just heard you started the USK movement. I heard you were beaten pretty badly by General Ngige’s men, and left for dead. Are you feeling any better?”

  He smiled kindly. A big, full smile of a naturally born leader. “There is nothing that time won’t heal. Tell me, do you still have the book?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Keep it. The time will come, soon, when you will need it to find the answers. Without it, all will be lost. You are a very intelligent woman, Doctor, I think you will work out what it means in time.”

  “In time for what?”

  “To save the human race from extinction, of course.”

  She paused. Her eyes wide, and her mouth slightly open. She held her tongue between her teeth and then grinned. “How could you possibly know that?”

  “Because General Ngige is terrified of the book. He believes that the book of Nostradamus is the only thing stopping him from ruling the world.”

  Zara asked, “What does he think will happen if the book is destroyed and he’s allowed to rule the world?”

  “He told me the human race will cease to exist in three hundred years.”

  Zara stared at him. “And that doesn’t bother him?”

  “No. He told me, why would it matter, he would be long dead by then.”

  Sam sat down beside him. “What do you need me to do?”

  Adebowale opened up a computer tablet. He typed a series of GPS coordinates and pressed enter. The computer quickly ran through a series of search programs, until it identified the location, and magnified it using current satellite images. The image showed a lake in the northern region of the Democratic Republic of Congo. He passed the tablet to Sam.

  Sam took it, glanced at it, and asked, “How could this end humanity?”

  “A mine runs under this lake. It once provided large amounts of gold to the world, but was abandoned decades ago, as it became no longer economically viable. Recent geological surveys, however, reveal mammoth lithium stores inside that mine. They’re big. Very big. Nearing fifty times the amount of currently known lithium around the globe.”

  “You think this will cause a third world war?”

  Adebowale nodded.

  Sam asked, “Over lithium? Are you kidding me?”

  Adebowale stared at him. His eyes fixed. “Do you realize how valuable lithium’s about to become?”

  “I don’t know. Judging by your look, I guess very. Other than batteries, and crazy people, what is it used for?”

  “Just that. Do you know what batteries are currently in big demand?”

  Sam said, “Electric Vehicle batteries.”

  Adebowale nodded. “Current predictions suggest nearly twenty-five percent of all cars sold within the next decade will be entirely electric. That’s good news for the planet, but how do you think they’re going to make that many lithium ion batteries?”

  “I didn’t know lithium was so rare?”

  “It wasn’t. Not in the quantities we once used it for. But now we’re talking about changing the game entirely. Do you know how many lithium mines there are in all of North America?”

  “Ten or Twenty?” Sam took a wild guess.

  “One.”

  “You’re kidding me!”

  “Don’t look so shocked. Ethiopia, Venezuela, Germany and Australia currently have the highest lithium reserves. The total of all of which is insufficient to meet the expected demand of the next decade.”

  “And now we can add the Democratic Republic of Congo to the list – with potentially fifty times the lithium reserves of the rest of the planet.”

  “Which is going to make it the most valuable piece of soil on earth.”

  “And it’s currently being run by some despot. If we let him succeed, any number of countries are going to want to make deals with him. And if he doesn’t deal, there will be war. It needs to be protected.”

  “But we’ll never be able to do that with General Ngige in power.”

  Sam said, “You have the weapons. You have the support of nearly eighty percent of your people. Why haven’t you started the counter rebellion?”

  Adebowale closed hi
s eyes as though he was thinking. When he opened them he spoke with the slow confidence of a man born to lead. His deep voice resonating with divine patience and logic. “The time to overthrow the corrupt rebellion is almost here. A rebellion takes time and patience. You need to wait until the situation has boiled to breaking point, and the people are ready to fight.”

  “Are the people ready?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why hasn’t the USK attacked?”

  “Because they are waiting?”

  “For what?”

  Adebowale sighed. He looked like he was in physical pain. “Nearly five thousand of their brethren to be released.”

  “From where?”

  “As general Ngige ran through the cities of the DRC, wreaking havoc, he took prisoners. Those prisoners are now being forced to work in the largest lithium mine the world has ever seen.”

  “So. Rebel then. Free your people and lead them to victory!”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Why not?”

  “The mine is buried beneath Lake Tumba.”

  Sam asked, “Which means if you attack?”

  Adebowale said, “General Ngige will detonate a bomb in a tunnel below the lake – drowning at least five thousand of my kinsmen.”

  “So how could it be achieved?”

  “I have a plan.” Adebowale smiled. It looked unnaturally kind coming from such a brutal face. “But I’m afraid I’m going to need your help, once more.”

  Chapter Eighty-Five

  Sam climbed four sets of stairs and entered the bridge. Matthew sat at his navigation table, studying a series of charts for the West Coast of Africa.

  Matthew glanced up. “Welcome back, Sam.”

  Sam said, “Thanks. Have you seen Elise around?”

  “She’s in her computer room, down below.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  Sam ran down the series of stairs until he reached Elise’s computer room. The door was slightly ajar and he knocked on it, before entering a moment later. She was sitting at a desk with four computer screens simultaneously connected, and she typed a steady staccato of data into the keyboard.

  He asked, “What are you doing?”

  Elise smiled at him. “I’m searching for all known information on the Lake Tumba mine.”

  “Good.” He took a seat opposite to her. “Did the Secretary of Defense approve of the plan?”

  “No. She wouldn’t hear of it.”

  “So why are we looking at the maps of the Lake Tumba mine?”

  Elise grinned. It was halfway between innocent and diabolical. “I realized, we’re just going to have to adjust the plan. Same premise as before, but much less people involved. Complete deniability for the U.S. Department of Defense. Just you, Tom and Genevieve. You follow his plan to free the prisoners from the mine, and he says the rebellion will start.”

  Sam nodded. He could work with those conditions. He stood up to leave, and stopped. He heard the distinct sound of a small diesel turning over, followed by the subsequent sound of the anchor links running through the bow roller and into the chain locker. He’d heard the anchor raised thousands of times and couldn’t possibly confuse the sound with any other. He shook his head. He’d spoken to Matthew less than ten minutes ago and was told they’d remain where they were for the next week while they planned their siege of the DRC Lithium Mine.

  Matthew stepped into the room. “Change of plans.”

  Sam stood up. His jaw suddenly tense and fixed. “What’s happened?”

  “The Libyan government decided we’ve over-stayed our welcome. We’re being moved on.”

  Chapter Eighty-Six

  Sam found Zara Delacroix in the mission room, carefully reading each of the individual fifty-eight additional quatrains in the book of Nostradamus.

  He asked, “Any luck?”

  Zara said, “None whatsoever. Like in 1552 when The Prophecies were first published, none of these make any sense. They’re all gibberish. Even the puzzles I understand, still don’t make any sense.”

  “That’s too bad. Keep at it, you’re bright, you’ll work it out. Are you sure we can’t convince you to come with us?” Sam asked. “It’s a noble cause, and Adebowale seems convinced that your two paths are meant to intertwine in this pivotal moment in history.”

  She shook her head. “It’s his war, not mine.”

  Sam asked, “Where will you go?”

  “Paris. There will always be a job waiting for me at the Louvre. Matthew said you’re heading to Malta. If I can hitch a ride with you, I’ll catch a commercial flight from there to Paris.”

  “That’s really what you want?”

  She nodded. “That’s what I want.”

  “What about the Nostradamus equation?”

  “I’m going to try and forget about Nostradamus and his damned predictions. He told me he only saw the visions in fleeting time glimpses, and had no idea how I was supposed to stop the extinction of humanity. Maybe you were right, maybe he really was nothing but a charlatan? Either way, it doesn’t matter.” She pulled out her medallion and stared at the island she’d nicknamed Infinity because of its shape similar to the mathematical symbol for infinity. “I asked Elise and Matthew to search various databases of known islands, and this one doesn’t exist anywhere. And neither does the Nostradamus equation. So, I’m out. Maybe Nostradamus got this one wrong, this time.”

  “And Mikhail?”

  “What about him? You said yourself he’s dead. No point me dying for the memory of a temporary lover.”

  “All right. You’ve made up your mind. Tom and I have a meeting with someone in Malta. We’re leaving now, if you want to join us. I know you don’t have anything to pack.”

  “Okay, great.” Zara nodded. “Sam.”

  “Yes?”

  “In case I didn’t get around to it before… Thank you.” She smiled at him. “For saving my life, getting me through the ancient irrigation fogarras, everything. I really appreciate it.”

  Sam paused in the doorway, and grinned back. “You’re welcome.”

  He turned and left up towards the Sikorsky. Tom had already powered up the Sikorsky and run through its series of safety checks. Sam slid open the side door and Zara climbed in, placing her bag with her computer and the book of Nostradamus on the chair next to her. Sam closed the door and climbed into the navigator’s side of the cockpit.

  Sam fitted his headset and turned to Tom. “How are we looking?”

  Tom said, “Fueled up. Engine’s warm. Oil pressure’s good. We’re good to go.”

  “Good. Let’s head off then.”

  Tom said, “Hang on a second.”

  Genevieve opened the door next to Tom. He looked at her, and said, “Everything all right?”

  She didn’t answer. Instead she kissed Tom passionately on the lips. It lasted for about thirty seconds and then she pulled away. “Stay safe, and don’t let Sam lead you into trouble.”

  Sam smirked and turned away.

  Genevieve saw his expression and said, “Don’t say it.”

  “What?” Sam asked, grinning.

  “I said, don’t.”

  Sam nodded his head. Genevieve was an intensely private woman. He’d never even heard of her showing her affections in public, let alone in front of the rest of the crew before. He caught Tom’s gaze. One glance and he knew to keep his mouth shut. It was one thing for Genevieve to kiss Tom when he arrived on board the Maria Helena after she thought he was dead, but another thing entirely to do so under normal conditions. It made appear normal, instead of her usual hardened self.

  Genevieve closed the cockpit door and walked away.

  Tom smiled. “I guess, now we’re good to go.”

  Chapter Eighty-Seven

  Zara was the first to see the tiny speck of an island appear. It was wedged somewhere between the horizon and the infinite turquoise waters of the Mediterranean Sea. The first of the three Maltese islands which made up the tiny Mediterranean outc
rop. Once there she would board a commercial flight to Paris and Sam Reilly would disappear from her life.

  The Sikorsky’s rotor blades made a droning whoop, whoop sound which echoed in her head as they flew toward it. She took in a deep breath, slowly. Her hazel-green eyes stared vacantly at the island, while her mind drifted pensively into her past. A prophecy that had extended into her great ancestry. A life spent searching for a book she only now believed in. The discovery of the book of Nostradamus. The missing 58 quatrains. It had been a wild ride. The culmination of it all, leading to someone she’d never heard of wanting her dead.

  General Nige was the weapon of that person’s desire. But she still had no idea who wanted the book bad enough to kill her for it. She would need to donate the book to the Louvre of course. It would be the only way to protect herself. They would make copies, and a digital database that could be studied at universities around the world. It was the only way to remove its intense value.

  She’d met a lot of interesting people along the way. None more so than Sam Reilly. He was a hero of a different sort. All the normal characteristics were there. He was tough, handsome, and righteous. His piercing blue eyes betrayed his intelligence but also his kindness, simultaneously. His confident grin made him appear youthful and mischievous. He was focused, but settled, in any circumstance. Knowledgeable, but quick to listen and learn from those who knew more than he did. From what she saw, he served his country, but that patriotism extended beyond the borders of American soil. He served his fellow man, and acted for the goodness of the human race, which he often expressed his most fervent belief in – despite the many signs of discord throughout the world.

  Despite growing up inside a privileged world of wealth, politicians, and diplomats, he didn’t have a conceited bone in his body. He was rich enough to never work again, yet he chose to serve. He worked for fun, because he enjoyed it, and because a certain job needed doing, and he was uniquely capable of doing it. He believed in duty and what is right, above self-gratification and one’s own desires. Even though he looked contented to wonder the desert as a nomad, subsisting on local cuisine, she imagined he would look just as much at home, rubbing shoulders at a cocktail party with world leaders and billionaires.