“It was. Remi and I were just inside when they attacked.”
“And how was it that all of you escaped?”
“Remi found a tunnel leading out,” Sam said. “It opens up on the north side. We climbed to the top and then . . .” He glanced in the direction of where he’d killed the lone gunman. “This way. I’ll show you.”
Kompouras followed him to the cliff’s edge, overlooking the Aegean and Fourni in the distance.
“You see the crevice about twenty yards down? That’s where we came out,” he said, pointing to the rocks on their left.
“You’re telling me that you scaled that cliff all the way over there?”
“We did.”
“I’m not sure I would have dared it.”
“We didn’t have much choice.”
Dimitris moved beside them. “What’s really sad is that we may have actually found evidence that the treasure called Poseidon’s Trident exists. Now it’s buried under a couple of tons of stone.”
The sergeant crouched at the cliff’s edge, using his phone to take a few photos. “What puzzles me is why Minerva Kyril would have been here. You were looking for some mythical treasure. She was allegedly trying to protect her drug empire.” He glanced over at Sam. “If I had to guess, her son’s obsession with Poseidon’s Trident brought too much unwanted attention to the family business. Especially when the four of you ended up on the Kyrils’ island.”
“Not that we found much there,” Sam said, “other than a few trigger-happy guards.”
He looked up from his phone. “But you did mention the glass vials you saw in the warehouse. I meant to ask you about that. By the time my team arrived on the island to investigate the shooting, the glass vials were gone.”
“You think they’re important?”
“We’re not sure yet. What makes it worth looking into is that we found bits of glass in the debris from the explosion that killed one of our agents. No one has found any explanation for it. Especially when the shipment was supposed to be nothing but olive oil, tins, wood, and plastic wrap around shipping cartons.”
Sam recalled seeing the boxes of vials, but at the time, his focus had been on finding and freeing Dimitris. “Had I known . . .”
“Yes. That old hindsight, twenty-twenty.” The sergeant eyed the cliffside, then stood, glancing at Dimitris. “You really think there’s some evidence of this treasure down there?”
“I found some shards from a broken amphora.”
“It couldn’t have been from one of the goat herders?”
“I suppose it could.”
“Except,” Sam said, “we didn’t see the shards until after the helicopter crashed. The impact caused part of the cave wall to shear off.”
Sergeant Kompouras slipped his phone into his pocket. “Any chance you would be willing to take another look? If we prove Poseidon’s Trident really exists, it will be one more piece of evidence against Adrian Kyril.”
Dimitris gave a firm nod. “Count me in.”
“Yes,” Nikos said.
Sam, recalling Remi’s reluctance to enter the cave from the beginning, asked, “How about it?”
“I think I can go in.”
“Let’s do it,” he said to the sergeant. “The more evidence, the better.”
CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
Once Dimitris retrieved the gear bags from the Asteri, they were able to find a solid spot to anchor their rope almost directly above the cave’s north entrance. Before they started, though, Sam pulled Remi aside. “You don’t have to go down there.”
Remi’s gaze searched his, and for a moment, he was certain she intended to back out. He could see the hesitation, even a moment of fear in her green eyes. But then she took a deep breath, and nodded. “Yes, I do. I am not going to let that man win. And if I have to go back into the cave to take him down, so be it.”
“I’ll be right there with you, every step of the way.”
Sam went first, testing the route, deciding it wasn’t too difficult for the novices—Remi and the sergeant—to scale. Once everyone had descended safely, Sam lowered himself into the chute, shimmying down. Remi went next, the others followed, with Dimitris bringing up the rear.
When Sergeant Kompouras made it into the low cavern, forced like everyone else to move about on his belly, he took a good look around. “Tell me it gets better than this?”
“It does,” Sam said. “But not before it gets worse. Whatever you do, when we get to the tunnels, keep your head down.” As they cleared the domed section and started into the long tunnel, he heard several clunks from plastic helmets hitting the low ceiling. Finally, they emerged into the large cavern, and from there, climbed the rope to the upper chamber. Kompouras moved next to Sam, using his phone to take photos, the flash lighting up the space with each shot. “I’m not sure I wouldn’t have gone into a total panic if I’d been trapped in here.” He glanced down at his screen, then at Sam. “So, where are these shards you found?”
“Over there. To the right of that pool.”
At the base was the pile of rubble where Dimitris had found the shards. Sam shined his light on it, seeing several more. Remi reached down and picked up an elongated piece of terra-cotta, something that looked like it might be the handle of an amphora.
She traced her finger over a distinctive rectangular marking. Sam noticed Greek letters in the middle of it. “What is it?” he asked her.
“Possibly the stamp of whoever manufactured it.”
Nikos took a closer look. “That’s quite the find. They may be able to date the piece based on that.”
Dimitris, digging through the pile of rubble just a few feet away, stood, excited. “Look what I found! An ancient Greek sat phone!”
Remi laughed as he handed the device over to her. She pressed a button. “Battery’s dead, but it looks pretty good otherwise.”
Sam turned his attention up toward the now-blocked cave entrance. The rope still hung down, and he gave it a good tug, then climbed up. “This,” he said to the sergeant, “is where we came in.”
There wasn’t much left of the outcropping that Remi had been sitting on right before the helicopter crashed. The impact had caused a cascading effect, shearing off the ledge, and sending the pieces crashing into a pile of rocks and dust. What had once been a narrow crevice between the cave mouth and the outcropping of rock was now over two feet in width.
A hollow area had opened behind where the ledge used to be—one he hadn’t seen after the crash because of all the dust in the air. Now that everything had settled, there was no doubt the area was quite large.
“What is it?” Dimitris asked.
“Looks like a pocket opened up.” He glanced at the rubble on the cave floor, noticing the largest pile was directly beneath this hollow, exactly where Remi and Dimitris had found their pieces of terra-cotta. Gripping the rope, he slung one foot across, straddling the crevice, testing his weight on the opposite rock wall. Rope firmly in one hand, he reached into the hollow, brushing some of the debris and dust away, seeing a large orange-red terra-cotta piece. No doubt about it. He was staring at the bottom half of an amphora lying on its side, the top having been crushed and covered by the fallen rocks. Just beyond it, he saw another broken amphora, also on its side. He jumped back, hooked up his harness to the rope, then straddled the space again, this time using both hands to sift through the rubble of the broken amphorae, feeling mostly rocks, but then something smooth, thin, and round. “I think I’ve got something. It feels like a coin.”
He ran his hands through more of the broken amphora. “Make that several.”
“Photos, Sam,” Remi reminded him.
He left everything where it was, then pulled out his phone to take pictures. It was the flash from the camera that lit up what appeared to be a third and intact amphora, lying on its side behind the broken two.
> He tucked his phone in his pocket, then reached out, his fingers brushing against it. He stretched farther, grasping the handle, at the same time trying to pull himself into the opening. As he leveraged himself, the neck split open. Coins spilled from the jar’s mouth, revealing rocks beneath.
“You’re not going to believe what I found,” he said.
“The treasure?” Dimitris said. “Poseidon’s Trident?”
“Don’t get too excited. Unless you think a jar full of rocks is worth everything we’ve been through.” He grabbed a couple, holding them out for the others to see. “But there is a layer of coins covering the rocks.”
“You’re sure?” Kompouras asked.
“Very.” Once again, he used his phone and took photos of the amphora, the gold coins that had spilled from it, and the rocks clearly inside. He stuffed two of the rocks and several coins in a pocket, tucked his phone away, then started down. At the bottom, he dug the coins from his pocket, handing them to Nikos. They certainly glittered like the real thing, and the lion’s head stamped on the face certainly made them look authentic.
The older man looked them over, then sighed. Sergeant Kompouras plucked one of the coins from Nikos’s hand, holding it in the light. “This one’s been gouged,” he said, making the same conclusion that Nikos had made. “You can see the lead.”
“If I had to guess,” Sam said, showing them the photos from his phone so that they could see the rocks contained in the intact amphora, “whoever hid the treasure went to a lot of trouble to pretend they were hiding a hoard of gold.”
“So, we have nothing?” Dimitris said. “All this trouble. For what?”
“History,” his father said. “We found a piece of history.”
Sergeant Kompouras seemed to be the only one who wasn’t disappointed. “You do realize what this means? It proves that the legend behind the gold is real, even if the gold isn’t. It’s a direct connection to Tassos, and from there to Adrian Kyril.” He looked at Remi. “In fact, I’d say that we have about everything we need, and you should be able to go home. You, on the other hand,” he said to Sam, “will get to enjoy our Greek hospitality for a while longer.”
CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE
At the counter of the Samos airport, Remi handed over her passport.
“Any more luggage?” the clerk asked.
“No. Just the carry-on,” she said. It sounded odd. She wasn’t used to traveling so light, and briefly wondered if she could actually learn to travel this way.
Probably not.
The woman printed up her ticket, then slid it and the passport across the counter. The ticket was only to Athens, the first leg on her flight back to the States. Picking it up filled her with an immense sadness, no doubt due to the man standing next to her. Sam had insisted on escorting her in, making sure she got her ticket, then made it safely to security.
In all likelihood, she was never going to see him again—not after everything that had happened. They were polar opposites, she and Sam. He deserved someone more suited to his lifestyle. She couldn’t picture herself with someone who could simply pull a gun and kill a man, then carry on as though nothing had happened.
“That’s it,” Sam said. “Looks like you’re all set.”
She started to reach for her oversized carry-on, but he picked it up. “Thank you,” she said when they reached the line for security.
He set it down at her feet. “It’s light.”
“I mean for everything. For coming all this way. Helping me and Dimitris . . . I’m sorry I ruined your chances to get investors.” She smiled at him, feeling equal parts guilt and relief. “I guess this is it. Thank you.”
“That sounds so final when you say it like that.”
She hesitated, not wanting to leave him with any sense of false hope. “Maybe if we’d met at a different time in our lives, things might have been different.”
“So, my timing was off?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“It’s the argon laser, right? The moment I bring it up, the women run,” Sam said, a forced smile on his face and sadness in his eyes.
“No, no, I wish you good luck with that.” She blinked back her tears. “I’m sorry we didn’t find that treasure. You could have invested in yourself.”
“You never know. Maybe I’ll win the lotto. Which reminds me. When I do, I owe you a new wardrobe.”
“Don’t you have to buy a ticket?”
“I knew there was a catch. Buy me one when you get back to the States?”
She laughed, then stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Goodbye, Sam Fargo.”
He placed his finger beneath her chin, lifted it slightly, and kissed her on the lips. “Goodbye, Remi Longstreet.” Then, kissing her once more, he let her go, his brown eyes somber. “Safe travels.”
Remi, feeling as if there was so much more she should’ve said, watched him walk off. When he looked back, she tried to wave, but a crowd of tourists rushed into line behind her, blocking her view. With a sigh, she entered the line for security.
A white-haired woman in front of her turned a knowing gaze in her direction. “So hard saying goodbye to someone you love.”
It took a moment for Remi to realize she was talking to her. “Oh, we’re just friends.”
“Are you?” The woman’s eyes held a hint of disbelief. “I’m not sure he knows that.”
A much younger woman glanced back, and in Greek, said, “Mána, mind your own business.” Then, in English, to Remi, said, “If you haven’t guessed by now, my mother likes to insert herself into everyone’s lives.”
Recognition hit as Remi looked from the younger woman to her mother. “You were both at Tassos’s funeral. Helena?”
The older woman smiled. “That’s the beauty of these smaller islands. We’re always running into someone we know.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I should probably catch up with my daughter.”
The younger woman had already turned away, putting her carry-on and her mother’s onto the conveyor. Remi did the same, then passed through the metal detector, collecting her bag and purse on the other side. Items in hand, she looked for a quiet spot to call her own mother.
“You’re actually at the airport?”
“I’m heading to the gate now.”
“It’s probably a good thing. I’m not sure this young man you’ve met is someone you should be spending so much time with.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Sam Fargo. Olivia told me he followed you to Greece.”
Remi wasn’t sure who she was more upset with. Olivia for telling her mother, or her mother for inserting her opinion into Remi’s relationships. “Well, then. You should be happy. We broke up.”
“Oh . . . Remi. I’m sorry. Let me know if you want to talk about it. In the meantime, your father and I were thinking, why don’t you just come back to Boston? We’ll have your car shipped, your furniture put in storage, and you won’t have to worry about anything but flying home. I probably should have asked, but I changed out the colors in your room. It’s so much brighter.”
It was moments like this that reminded her why it was she’d moved all the way out to California in the first place. Their idea of how her life should run differed vastly from hers. “Mom. I’m not moving home.”
“Yes, yes. You say that now. Don’t worry, dear, we’ll talk about it when you’re back in the States.”
Trying to discuss anything with her mother once she’d set her mind on something was futile. “Boarding the plane now. Love you, bye.”
She disconnected before her mother had a chance to interject anything else.
At the gate, Helena saw Remi, and walked up. “I recognize that look,” she said.
“What look?”
“The same one my daughter gives to me when she doesn’t like something I tell
her.” Her dark eyes sparkled as she reached out, clasping Remi’s hand. “You’ll make the right decision. I see it in your eyes.”
Helena’s daughter walked up at that moment. “Ignore her. When we get on the plane, she’ll find a new friend to torment.” Then, in Greek, added, “Mána. Don’t do this at the wedding. Please.”
Remi glanced at the woman, who seemed unfazed by her daughter’s mild rebuke as she gathered her bag, then followed her to two available seats in the waiting area.
With almost an hour to go until her own plane boarded, Remi settled back in her chair to wait. The longer she sat there, however, the more she heard the woman’s parting refrain: You’ll make the right decision.
What decision? Definitely not about moving home. That was never going to happen. Thirty minutes later, a loudspeaker overhead announced her flight. She got in line, handed over her ticket, then walked out the door to her plane.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR
Once Remi was safely on her way, Sam spent the next several days being interviewed by Interpol agents about every aspect of the case involving Adrian Kyril—from the time Sam arrived on Fourni after receiving Remi’s call to the moment they were trapped in the tunnel on Megalos Anthropofas after Minerva Kyril’s helicopter appeared.
At least there was some good news. With the death of Minerva Kyril, and the cooperation of her husband, not only were the Greek authorities finally able to shut down the drug empire, but they’d figured out how Minerva, the brains behind the operation, had managed to transport the heroin. The key had been those glass tubes Sam had reported seeing in the warehouse. The heroin was sealed inside the tubes, then placed inside the tins, which were filled with olive oil. That, in turn, made a nonpermeable barrier around the drugs, preventing them from being detected. So, while her husband was running the legitimate olive oil business, she had been smuggling drugs right beneath his nose.
After more than a week, with the close of the investigation, they informed Sam he was free to return home, with the stipulation that he and Remi would both need to return to testify when the case went to court.
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