Atlantis Lost

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Atlantis Lost Page 19

by J. Robert Kennedy


  He closed his eyes, the burn intense at the sound of her voice, the voice of an angel.

  “Thatch! Please!”

  He sighed, opening his eyes to find the submersible passing him then turning to block his path. He stopped, staring into the camera, a camera he knew was transmitting to the woman he loved. “Let me past, Giselle.”

  “I can’t let you do it. It’s not worth it!”

  Her voice was cracking, and it made this all the more difficult. She cared. She didn’t love him, but she cared.

  Oh God, if she had only said she loved me!

  It wouldn’t have been true, but it would have been wonderful to hear, just once in his life.

  Everyone deserves to be loved.

  In all his years, no woman had ever said those three, beautiful, wonderful words. They had been sent insincerely through text messages from platonic friends, because electronically they were meaningless. But to have heard them in person, while staring into their eyes, hearing the breathless delivery—that would have been something to take to the grave.

  He swam closer to the camera. “Let me do this, Giselle, let me make a difference. I can’t take years in prison without you. Every day would be torture, and I don’t want to go through that—it wouldn’t be living, it would be merely existing. These past seven years with you have been incredible, and those moments we spent together earlier, were the most wonderful of my life. Thanks to you, I’ll die a happy man, because I will have been with the woman I’ve loved for as long as I can remember, and I’ll have sent a message to the world that will resonate throughout, and hopefully accomplish our goals.” He reached for the camera, as if reaching for her hand. “I love you. Never forget that. Now please, let me finish what I started, what we all started.”

  He could hear her sobs through the headgear, and it broke his heart. Then there was a final sniff, and the whispered words that shattered his being, as he wasn’t there to hear them in person.

  “I love you too.”

  “Hang on!” Acton sent them careening around an unexpected corner before swiftly recovering, waving at two cars as they whipped by, horns and wagged middle fingers the response.

  “Slow down or I’m going to have your license revoked.”

  Acton glanced over at Reading, wondering if the man was serious, when an exclamation of delight from the back seat ended the thought. “Did you connect?”

  Laura nodded, her eyes glued to an iPad she had their travel agent Mary arrange with the hotel. “I’ve got the camera feeds coming through now.”

  “How’s it look?”

  “Everything appears the way we left it. If they’ve detonated, then it looks like the ruins have survived.”

  Acton wasn’t so sure he was ready to declare victory just yet. “I don’t think we’re that lucky. My guess is they haven’t had a chance yet. That means there’s still hope.”

  Giselle’s shoulders shook as she stared at the display, the man she only now realized she loved, pleading with her to let him kill himself. She hadn’t been sure how she felt until she had been faced with the prospect of losing him, and the gut-wrenching feeling, a feeling that had almost made her vomit from the horror of it, convinced her that their friendship was no longer just that, that she shared his feelings, and she didn’t want to live without him.

  “I-I’m so happy to hear you say that. I wish I was there with you, so I could hold you, and say goodbye in person.”

  She stared at his beautiful face. “You still can. Just come back so we can be together one last time. Then if you decide you still want to do this, I-I’ll come with you. We’ll do it together.”

  She felt a hand grip her shoulder and she looked up at Fleming, tears streaking his face, and those surrounding her. She wished she were alone, but this was their moment too. The man who had brought them all together was about to sacrifice himself for the cause, for their cause, and they deserved to share in these final words, no matter how private, no matter how intimate.

  And she loved each and every one of them for not saying anything to interrupt.

  “Someone’s coming!”

  She heard the others head to the windows, but she ignored it. Her entire focus was on the man she loved.

  “It’s the police!”

  “Break out the weapons!”

  Footfalls pounded out of the room, and she found herself alone, finally.

  “What’s going on?”

  She closed her eyes at the sounds of the sirens, and then the shouts over a megaphone, the words lost on her. “The police are here.”

  “Then you have to let me past, so I can finish this before they try and stop me.”

  “But I don’t want you to die.”

  Gunfire erupted outside, sporadic at first, then more intense.

  “Is that gunfire? Are you safe?”

  “Don’t worry about me. Just come up here, and we can be together.”

  An engine roared outside, then she felt a vibration through the deck plates as something hit the side of the vessel, the exchange of gunfire continuing.

  “I think they’re boarding us.” She could see the anguish in his face.

  “Tell them to surrender! No one was supposed to get hurt!”

  Tears flowed down her cheeks. “You weren’t supposed to get hurt, either.”

  He shook his head. “I’m making a choice. Now I need you to. Tell them to surrender, please!”

  She closed her eyes as someone hammered at the hatch. “Goodbye, my love.” She opened her eyes and saw a gun sitting beside the console. The door burst open, several police entering, and she made a decision. “I’ll see you soon.”

  She reached for the gun.

  “Giselle!”

  Thatcher could hear the gunfire through his headgear, then a cry and a gasp. Footfalls echoed, then words he couldn’t understand were said.

  “Please! Can anyone hear me? Is Giselle okay?”

  There was a pause, then a voice he didn’t recognize replied. “This is the police. Where are you?”

  Thatcher’s chest tightened and his stomach drew into a tight knot. “Is she okay?”

  “The girl is dead. I repeat, where are you?”

  Thatcher’s eyes closed as all will drained out of him. She was dead, and it was his fault. If he had never met Kozhin, if he had never agreed to move forward with this insane plan, if he had never met Giselle and invited her to join their group, she’d be alive today, somewhere out there in the world, happy, blissfully unaware that he even existed.

  But that wasn’t reality, and the reality he now faced was a world without the woman he loved in it. He opened his eyes, glaring at the submersible in front of him.

  “Where you can’t touch me.”

  He kicked to the right of the massive vehicle, pushing past it before someone up there figured out how to operate it. He kicked hard, the tears pouring down his cheeks making it difficult to see, wiping them clear impossible with his headgear on.

  “Stop what you are doing!”

  He ignored the voice, instead focusing on Giselle’s precious gift to him.

  I love you too.

  He was going to die, but he was going to die having loved, and more importantly, having someone who loved him back. He hadn’t believed her words at first, though he knew from those that followed that she truly did mean what she had said, and while those words were usually worth living for, they were the exact words he had needed to hear to give him the strength to die.

  He reached the device and flipped open the panel protecting the detonator from stray debris accidentally activating it. He paused. “Are you listening?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell the world I did it for them.”

  He reached forward and pressed the button, ending a life well lived.

  Acton cursed as he spotted a massive eruption of water to his left, his heart sinking at the realization the terrorists had made good on their threat. A horn blast and a shout from Reading had him swerve back onto his side
of the road, the art of driving momentarily forgotten. He spotted an access point and cranked the wheel, sending everyone toward the passenger side as he surged onto the beach, racing toward the shore. He slammed on the brakes, skidding to a halt, then jumped out, rushing toward the water. He turned back, pointing at Laura.

  “The cameras!”

  She rushed over with the iPad and he stared at what appeared to be a steady image, the ruins untouched. He breathed a sigh of relief. “They’re intact!” He grabbed Laura by the shoulders, squeezing her against him. “Oh, thank God!”

  Then something moved.

  It was a column, slowly tipping over, the water delaying the inexorable fall to the seabed, the massive piece of stone pounding into the surface with a puff of silt that spread out from all sides. Then another began to tip, and Acton’s entire body tensed as a sickening feeling threatened to take over.

  “Oh no!” gasped Laura, pointing at the screen. “What’s happening?”

  Acton wasn’t sure. The image seemed to be shaking, as if the camera were vibrating, and everything in its view appeared to be doing the same, with massive columns and stone walls changing position slightly.

  Then he realized what it was.

  “Switch to Camera Five!”

  Laura tapped at the display and the image changed to show an angle from the south side of the find, nearest the shore, looking down the slope of the ruins, down the side of the volcano.

  And everything was moving.

  Away from the camera.

  Reading peered over their shoulders. “What’s happening?”

  But Acton couldn’t answer. It was simply too horrible to voice. Laura saved him.

  “It’s-it’s all sliding deeper.”

  Finally, the camera they were watching began to slide with the ancient city, then tumble as the tripod lost its footing. Suddenly everything went blank as the relay was pulled out of range, too deep for its signal to reach the surface.

  And perhaps ending any chance mankind had of proving once and for all whether Atlantis had ever existed.

  “Is it lost?” asked Spencer.

  Acton closed his eyes, nodding slowly. “I think so.”

  “Surely you can still find it. I mean, you know where it is.”

  Acton turned back toward their vehicle, filled with pessimism. “It depends on how far it slid, and if it was buried. If it went beyond dive depth, then only submersibles will be able to reach it, and if it was buried, it could take years, even decades, to find it.” He sighed. “If ever.”

  Spencer snorted. “Give James Cameron a call. He’ll find it and make a movie out of it.”

  His father gave him a look. “Now’s not the time.”

  Spencer’s face sagged. “Sorry.”

  Acton forced a smile, patting the young man on the shoulder. “It’s okay, perhaps a little humor is what we need right now. We still have the footage from the cameras, and it’s all stored safely in the cloud, and we still have…” His jaw dropped. “The trident! What happened to the trident?”

  Reading’s eyes narrowed. “That giant fork you were talking about?”

  “Yes. We left it on our boat when we were diving, but we were captured. We need to find that boat! That trident could be the only thing left that proves Atlantis might exist!”

  Reading frowned. “I’m afraid I’ve got bad news on that front. I talked to the owner of the dive shop, and he said they had to go out and retrieve your boat.”

  Acton wanted to look at his friend with some inkling of hope, but there was no point. “And the trident?”

  “He said it had been picked clean.”

  Acton’s shoulders slumped, his eyes burning as Laura fell into his arms, as crushed as he was. “So somewhere, out there, is the only proof that Atlantis ever existed.”

  71

  EQ Hotel & Casino

  Shanghai, China

  Kane walked into the hotel’s restaurant, Tien on his arm, and strode toward Zhang’s table, the thin man enjoying his breakfast with several of the high-priced talent on display the night before. “Good morning, Mr. Zhang.”

  Zhang looked up at him, his eyes darting toward Tien for a moment. “Ahh, Mr. Kane. I trust you had an enjoyable evening.”

  Kane lifted Tien’s hand and gave it a gentle kiss. “A wonderful time, thank you.”

  Zhang motioned to two empty chairs. “Please, join me.”

  Kane pulled out a chair for Tien, then pushed it in for her before sitting. “I have excellent news for you, Mr. Zhang.”

  Zhang paused. “Oh?”

  “We have found your yacht.”

  Zhang’s eyebrows shot up, a smile spreading. “That is good news!” He paused. “Where?”

  “Macao.”

  Zhang’s eyes narrowed. “Someone actually thought they could steal my yacht, my custom built yacht, and sail it into Macao?”

  Kane leaned back in his chair, putting his arm around Tien’s shoulders. “Which is why my company has its suspicions.”

  Zhang put down his fork, clearly not pleased. “Oh?”

  “Yes, they feel this may have been an attempt at insurance fraud on your part. We pay you for the yacht, then you sell it, or, perhaps even more boldly, reclaim it without telling us.”

  Zhang’s cheeks burned red. “You dare accuse me!”

  Kane laughed, dismissing the anger with a wave of his hand. “As I said, my company has its suspicions. I, on the other hand, have none.” He leaned forward, the flushed cheeks waning. “I’ll tell you my theory, and it’s the one that will go in the official report.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  Kane smiled, Zhang’s ears prominent. “My theory is that a rival, or perhaps merely a local gang, stole your yacht, with the intention of selling it. When they reached their buyers in Macao, they realized it was simply too unique to sell. Your yacht did not exactly come off an assembly line.”

  Zhang leaned back, a slight smile on his face, the yarn being spun apparently to his satisfaction. “No, it definitely is not.”

  “Exactly. Which is why I think once they realized they had stolen something that could never be sailed by a new buyer, they abandoned it.” Kane leaned forward slightly, removing his arm from Tien’s shoulders. “So, my final report will indicate that you were the victim here, that your property was recovered, and nothing untoward happened.”

  Zhang smiled broadly. “This is good news.” He stood, extending his hand across the table. Kane rose, shaking it. “If you ever need anything, Mr. Kane, I am at your service.”

  “I’m glad you said that.” He placed a hand on Tien’s shoulder and smiled at her. “I find I am quite taken by your gift to me.” He turned to Zhang. “I would consider all debts paid if you were to give her to me.”

  Zhang’s jaw dropped slightly, his eyes widening as he sat back into his chair. Then he laughed, holding out his hand toward Tien. “This? This is what you ask of me, when you could have asked for almost anything?”

  Kane bowed slightly. “I am a man of simple tastes.”

  Zhang laughed, flicking his wrist at Tien, Kane’s steadying hand unable to halt her trembling. “Fine, take her. I have a dozen more.”

  Kane bowed even deeper. “Thank you. And one more thing?”

  Zhang’s smiled eased slightly. “Yes?”

  “Nobody ever touches her, or her family.”

  The smile disappeared as Zhang realized what was actually going on. “Agreed.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And Mr. Kane?”

  “Yes?”

  “I better never see you, or her, again.”

  72

  Baltasar Residence

  Pico Island, Azores

  Baltasar leaned back in his chair, a good fire roaring to his left, taking the edge off the chilly night. There had been a lot of excitement on his beach for a couple of weeks, there even rumors of some great archaeological find just off the coast, though the fact the scientists had left yesterday, made him suspect it was noth
ing.

  But that didn’t matter. He’d be playing it up on the Internet for years to come. The more fools that thought they’d find ancient treasure under the water, the more that would rent equipment from his shop.

  Then again, maybe it wasn’t all nonsense.

  He stared over at the mantle of his fireplace, his hard work over the past few days worth it, the artifact he had found stowed on the scientists’ boat when they abandoned it, now a beautiful, brilliant gold. Some might have thought of it as stealing, but not him. As far as he was concerned, it was compensation for the trouble he had been forced to go through, and the risk they had put his boat in. Boats were expensive, and so was insurance, which he didn’t bother with.

  He stared at it, searching for the proper name, something he hadn’t been able to do since the Internet had been cut off.

  Maybe Erasmo will know.

  He’d be seeing him for drinks after dinner, and he’d try to remember to ask the man without giving away his secret.

  His cellphone beeped by his side and he checked the display, a smile spreading from a surge of excitement as he started to get a flood of messages from the mainland, service apparently at least partially restored. He fired off a text message to Erasmo, canceling their plans.

  And asking him what the name was for a giant fork.

  73

  Pier #6, Canal #4

  Atlantis

  The fall

  Ampheres came to a halt, his hands on his knees, hunched over as he gasped for breath. He and Mestor were at the outer ring now, the pattern of canals cut into the landscape creating wide swaths of lands the farther from the core one went. It meant less citizenry, as agriculture, factories, and fish plants filled the area, but there was nothing that could shield them from the horrors occurring behind them.

  The mountain was erupting with flowing red-hot fluid as dark clouds, bursting from the top, spread out and filled the sky, blotting out the sun, bolts of lightning streaking across the underside of the thick undulating mass—a terrifying spectacle if there ever was one.

 

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