Bodie decided to hold on to the almost-empty gun in case he could find more rounds. He saw a Chinese soldier walking out of the water, but then another appeared out of the blackness behind the first, giving Bodie pause because he hadn’t even sensed the man was there.
The Bratva waded in among them. Bodie counted six running through the crackling conflagration that was their campsite. Three SEALs were also present. Bodie ducked beneath a burning, collapsing branch to head-butt a large man, making him stagger backward. Fires raged all around, crackling and smoking high into the shadow-struck night. Bodie dodged another burning bush, turned, and shoved his adversary into the flames. The man’s uniform caught fire, and he screamed and ran through a clearing. Up ahead, he saw Heidi crawling along the ground, keeping her head down.
Chaos crackled and spat and screamed all around. The SEALs engaged the Bratva, shifting from cover to cover, firing their weapons, and engaging in hand-to-hand combat, and the two remaining Chinese soon joined in. The camp was still in chaos. Cross elbowed a soldier before Gunn managed to push him down into a tangle of brush. Cassidy leapt atop him as he tried to sit back up. Gunn hadn’t seen her coming and greeted her with incredulity, losing focus, and then had to jump free as a Bratva fighter tried to grab him beneath the arms. Jemma searched for a weapon. Bodie slid in beside Heidi and lifted her face.
“You okay? Injured?”
Her eyes cleared. “No, no, just the smoke.”
She coughed. He dragged her away from the flames. The bald Bratva fighter with the spindly arms ran past him, followed by Yasmine, neither giving him a second glance. How did they find this place? Heidi grabbed his arm and pulled herself upright.
“Have you seen Lucie?” she asked.
Bodie frowned. “Shit, no. Where was the last—”
Bodie had ridden the odds too long. A Bratva body-slammed him, knocking him to the ground. The exertions of the last few hours had depleted his strength. As he tried to repel a second attack, he realized his capacity to fight was now dangerously reduced.
Raising an arm, he struggled to find the energy needed to fight effectively. His opponent kicked him in the ribs and then leapt, coming down hard with an elbow. Bodie managed to scramble clear and saw Heidi approach his attacker from behind, a boulder in hand. The rock crashed against his skull, made his legs fold. Heidi helped Bodie up and the two went in search of Lucie.
Cassidy was assisting Cross, peeling an opponent from the older man’s back, forcing hands from around his throat, and sending his attacker spinning into a tree. He cracked his skull against the thick trunk, and collapsed to the ground. Burning debris from a spreading fire fell around him. Cassidy couldn’t just leave him to burn alive, even if he was an enemy. She moved in to pull him clear, but he struggled against her as she tried to assist. She smothered the flames on his clothes, checked he was okay, and then punched him in the face.
“I think he would thank you,” said a female voice at her side. “Maybe.”
She fell into a defensive position. Yasmine and the bald man were there. Cross stumbled forward but tripped over a branch and went face first into the earth. The three regarded him for a moment, shaking their heads.
“Why can’t you see what’s right in front of your eyes?” Yasmine asked cryptically. “We don’t want to kill you. We’re trying to help you, even now. You are a damn fool, Eli Cross.” She couldn’t stop the small, genuine smile from creeping across her face.
“Couldn’t agree more.” Cassidy lunged first as she read the bald man’s body language, a quick feint that told her he was about to strike. He leapt an instant later, catching a punch to the chin. Cassidy circled him as Yasmine stepped away from the encounter.
Bodie still saw the Chinese as the major threat. Their numbers may have been depleted but he knew from previous experience that they were formidable warriors. The SEALs had engaged them with knives, but one American was bleeding profusely and the other was attempting to beat a fire out on his friend’s back while continuing to fight. Bodie left Heidi to continue her search for Lucie, and loped off. Jumping a fallen crackling branch, he hit one of the Chinese from the side, bearing him to the ground. All of a sudden Jemma was there too, real courage making up for lack of skills, her weapon a thick, gnarly bough. Bodie reared away from his opponent. The Chinese soldier raised himself up . . . right into the bough that Jemma swung. It contacted heavily with his forehead, making instant lights out, the body falling backward with a thud.
The remaining SEALs, looking grateful, took on the final Chinese fighter.
Bodie spun in the dirt and tiny fires, the wetsuit actually helping him move. “Still got your phone?”
Jemma patted her suit. “Tucked safely away.”
“Really? Shit, I don’t wanna know where.” He surveyed the scene. Heidi dragged Lucie from underneath a flaming tree as parts of it sheared away and charred the ground all around. Lucie reeled when a spark landed in her hair and caught fire. Bodie was grabbing handfuls of water but Heidi managed to smother it, yanking Lucie upright and screaming into her face.
“Pull it together!”
She hauled Lucie away and into the clearing.
Bodie found his attention divided. So far he’d been too engaged with the Chinese to worry about the Bratva and had lost track of his own team. Cross had somehow fallen to his knees in front of Yasmine, and she was shouting into his ear. Cassidy was fighting the bald Bratva warrior. Gunn was lying prone as a heavily tattooed Bratva killer stood over him. Two Bratva soldiers were searching the remains of their camp, and Bodie wondered if they had been ordered to look for clues as to the whereabouts of Atlantis.
Bodie decided Gunn needed his help more than anyone. Cassidy could hold her own, although the bald Bratva’s fighting style made him a dangerous opponent.
Bodie darted to where Gunn was being threatened by the Bratva soldier, hammering into the man from behind and knocking him away from the still-prone Gunn. The man spun to face Bodie, raising his knife. Bodie grabbed the man’s wrist and twisted, trying to force him to drop the weapon. But the soldier was stronger than he looked and shrugged Bodie off with ease. He lunged with the knife and Bodie jumped back. He dropped and kicked out, striking the Bratva soldier’s knees. A branch from a burning tree crashed to the ground nearby, distracting the tattooed soldier. Bodie took the chance and kicked the man hard in the chest, knocking him off balance. The knife fell to the ground. The man, though winded, still reached down to grab it. Bodie raised his boot and smashed it down on top of the man’s head, laying him flat out on the ground and rendering him unconscious. Then he scooped up Gunn and checked on Cassidy.
The area all around her and the bald man, around Cross and Yasmine, burned with a hateful fury. Flames licked at their faces, their flesh, as they struggled and brawled and shifted positions. The blackest of skies outlined it all. Again, Cassidy threw a Bratva clear just as a burning branch would have landed on his squirming body, and the bald man stood down to give her a few seconds to quench her own blaze.
The Bratva were killers maybe, but respectful of a worthy opponent and with a deeply held honor code. It was what he was counting on when it came time to steal and return the statue that set them after him and Jack Pantera in the first place. He saw Yasmine had a hand around Cross’s throat now, still yelling at him. Bodie’s best guess was that she was desperate for information.
Which poor old Eli doesn’t have.
Bodie ran up to the confrontation.
“Hey, Yas,” he drawled slowly, using familiarity to gain her attention. “You two are not married yet.”
He reached out and pulled her away, releasing Cross. Yasmine spun with an open hand, slapping him across the face. Bodie stood back, watching the interaction between the two.
“Why are you even here?” Bodie asked.
“Three reasons actually. You, Atlantis, and the Rif, which relies partly on us.”
“The Rif?”
“Yes, the Rif is our home, but it has been a
region of strife for many years now. We consider ourselves independent of the Moroccan government.”
“I hear of it quite often. Mostly reports centering on the fact that it ignores narcotics and other criminal trades that are the mainstays of its economy.”
“The government neglects the people. We help feed them.”
“Is that what Viktor tells you?” Cross put in. “He’s all about power, Yas. That’s why he wants Atlantis and all the incredible secrets it may contain. Just one of those secrets could be powerful enough to put the Bratva in control for many years.”
“Look, Viktor is not the boss. We work for the Frenchman called Lucien. And regarding the Rif—it is tyranny,” Yasmine said. “There is no rehabilitation. No aid. The region is devastated. What do you expect them to do? They have to survive.”
“Not in debt to criminals,” Bodie said, trying to keep her talking. Again, they’d been told the name of the real Bratva boss of the region. It was uncalled for, and surely against any rule. What was she trying to tell them?
“The government always excludes the Rif from state development plans. It is devastated. A devastated population will not lie down and die, it will fight. It will resist until social and economic development arrives. Until then . . .”
“I’m guessing you are originally from the Rif,” Bodie broke in, ducking as a branch exploded with the popping sound of gunfire. “But you can’t confuse a state struggle with a criminal organization. How many like you does Viktor, or Lucien, have on the payroll?”
“He wants the clue. The clue you found down there.” She nodded at the lake. “Give it to me and I can let you live.” She looked back at Bodie. Her gaze was strong, but he sensed that behind the stare she was pleading with him to go along with her proposition.
Bodie glanced around. He could see the other confrontations had continued during their discussion. The SEAL team was forcing the remaining Chinese soldier to the ground, tying his hands behind his back. Cassidy and the bald Bratva soldier had reached an impasse, both still standing, both unable to continue. The fires raged in the treetops. The scene was chaos.
“We’re evenly matched,” Bodie said. “No, we’re better than you. I recognize that you hit us without weapons and I respect that, but it was as much for you as for us. The Chinese were winning at that point.”
“We helped save you.”
Bodie made a face. “To kill us later? Not really, but you did cause confusion. Tell me, how did you know we were here? You didn’t possess any of the information.” He tried hard not to show how rattled he was, still surrounded by the Bratva. But he was grateful that Yasmine had been put in charge. At least she had reason to let them live.
For now.
Yasmine plucked at Cross’s scalp until she came up with a tiny tracker. As she did so, the thief tried, ineffectually, to bat her away. “How did you . . .” He seemed lost for words then, staring at her.
“Remember the hug back at the Alps?” Yasmine shrugged. “I planted it then. Precaution. Always precaution.”
Bodie scowled. “The CIA didn’t detect that?”
“Signal can be turned on and off remotely,” Yasmine said. “We just activated it a few hours after Moroccan airport CCTV scanned your faces.”
“We didn’t—”
“There’s always CCTV, Guy, you should know that.” Heidi shrugged.
The SEALs were around them now, two holding guns at a nonthreatening level. Bodie backed away and signaled for the whole team to do the same. Yasmine stared at Cross, but the thief couldn’t look at her, hanging his head as he trudged along. Having already noted their lack of firearms, Bodie didn’t expect any protests from the Bratva and didn’t get one.
“Stalemate,” he said. “Everyone could die right now or we could all live to fight another day.”
The bald man stepped in front of Yasmine. “You can count on it,” he said.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Bone tired, the group trudged back to their SUV and drove into town. Reflecting on why they had been let go was deeply troubling. First, it had been a stalemate. Nobody had won, and no one had lost. Except the Chinese.
Second, Yasmine had offered mixed signals to both Cross and Bodie. But even the bald man had seemed reluctant to finish what he had started.
There was something else, something deeper going on here. But there was no time to stop. A large boat was waiting for them at a remote dock. Nothing fancy, just a rectangular vessel, pitted with rust, but bearing a powerful engine. Before they realized, it had motored them away from the Azores and out into the North Atlantic Ocean toward the Moroccan coastline from where they could view the jutting peaks.
From this distance, the Azores did indeed look like the tops of ancient mountains, all that remained of a deluged world. The boat dropped anchor a few miles from the coastline as the team gathered together in the small living quarters before separating to find their bunks and get some rest.
Bodie apprised them of the underwater find. They checked Cross for additional trackers, picking at his hair as if searching for lice. Cross looked dejected, lost, and was finding it difficult to cope. Everyone else nursed their wounds.
Bodie tried to lighten the mood. “I lost my camera,” he said, shrugging. “I have no idea where, but there’s still photographic evidence on Jem’s phone. Everything we saw down there.”
Expressions around the room cleared, especially Lucie’s. “Really?” the historian asked. “Let’s see them.”
“Well, it’s secreted carefully about her person.”
Everyone stared at the tight wetsuit. Lucie frowned. Jemma grumbled, removed herself from the room, and then returned a few minutes later. She held the phone out to a suspicious Lucie.
“Don’t worry, it’s fine.”
Heidi proposed a five-hour rest. The Chinese were dealt with for now and the Bratva had run out of clues to follow. The team could afford a small respite to replenish their reserves. Nobody questioned that the Chinese might send more men.
Whatever, Bodie thought. I sure as hell can’t function any longer without rest.
He fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, and was still groggy when his alarm went off. Gunn, on the bunk below, complained loudly. Similar groans could be heard in the rooms next door through metal walls as thin as paper. He guessed it was now early afternoon.
Bodie was starving. He made his way to the galley, where steaming coffee and sausage sandwiches were available. Almost drooling, he polished off the first and started on a second. One by one, the others filtered in. Last in was Lucie, and Bodie saw immediately that she hadn’t rested.
“You didn’t sleep?”
“Later. We need information first.” The historian’s tone was entirely professional again and belied the bruises on her face and the bandages around both arms. Bodie remembered how she’d opened up when they drank from the bottle and wondered if she’d expected to die back there. After all, pitched battle wasn’t exactly natural causes.
Heidi rested her chin on one hand. “So what does five hours get us, apart from zombie eyes and camel hair?” She flicked her eyes to Cassidy as she finished speaking.
“Oh, we can’t all have perfectly tight, perfectly adorable curls, darlin’,” the redhead protested, shaking her locks out.
Lucie poured coffee. “There were sixteen photographs in all. I sifted through them carefully. What we ended up with was an interesting frieze, which is the panel that runs along the top of the apex, yes?” She paused to drink, take a sandwich, and sit down at the table, affecting her school-mistress air. “We have no way of determining the building’s date, but we do have eight bas-reliefs. The first three, and the largest, depict the god Poseidon, so we can safely say what you found was indeed a temple devoted to him. These reliefs also contain other gods, whom the Greeks would refer to as Apollo and Artemis, but who the Atlanteans may have called kings. I saw traces that confirm the temple may once have been inlaid with ivory, silver, and orichalcum. Now, the white, black, an
d red stones you saw at the base of the frieze are typical of the volcanic rocks in the region, and would be the very stones the Atlanteans would have used, if Atlantis is indeed beneath the Atlantic. It appears that this particular temple was a personal project, rather than a public one. It is small, basically unadorned, and, in places, not even completed.”
Jemma rubbed tired eyes. “You’re essentially saying that it was probably situated in Danel’s backyard? Like we might build a shed, or a barbecue?”
“Yes, why not? Danel was a lifestyle architect. A sculptor, a builder. He wanted to keep Atlantis alive for future generations. Is it not merely the equivalent of a man today burying a time capsule?”
“Putting your theory in context,” Jemma said, frowning, “would mean Danel lived high up in the mountains. Near the very peaks, it seems.”
Lucie shrugged. “Perhaps he knew the deluge was coming.”
“All this is fascinating,” Heidi said. “It really is. But can we get back to the temple?”
“Yes, of course. We’re left with five bas-reliefs. One depicts a king, whom I assume was ruler at the time. Another depicts an area of land, which I believe Danel wanted to immortalize because it was his home, and, yes, it is among the peaks. Now, the three that remain are the interesting ones. The first is the Pillars of Hercules, the second an old mountain, whilst the third is composed of text, a translation of which I have messaged Alessandro for.”
Bodie knew Lucie was enjoying stringing out her explanation, but then he was enjoying his second sandwich, and was prepared to let her waffle to her heart’s content.
“And . . .” Heidi looked grumpy. “What does it all mean?”
“The Pillars of Hercules are the first marker, the old mountain the second, and the text the third. Simple. Each successive relief narrows the location down. The text, by the way, translates closely to ‘In the mouth of the dead woman sleeping.’”
Bodie studied the others as Lucie explained. Despite all that had happened they were still engrossed.
The Atlantis Cipher (The Relic Hunters Book 2) Page 20