Phantom Prospect

by Alex Archer

  There had to be a point sooner or later where they would stop. To go far would require fuel, and food and water for the passengers. Annja decided that they would be getting to the destination soon enough.

  She tried to relax and enjoy the ride. It was a smooth sensation and she had no sense of direction aside from going up or down. She reasoned that it would be good to rest and be ready for whatever greeted her next.

  She sat up and leaned back, letting her head rest against the wall of the holding compartment, with the sword across her lap. In the dim interior, the gray luminescent light contrasted with the red bulb and provided enough light for Annja to see, but aside from the oxygen holes, there was nothing to observe. The walls were featureless.

  Fascinating, she thought. She couldn’t wait to find out who owned this machine and why they’d had it built. She could only guess what the reason might have been.

  Dave Crosby had been with the SEALs. Was he still working with them in some undercover role on Hunter’s team? If so, why? Was someone aboard the Seeker a terrorist?

  Would SEALs even have access to this type of technology? She knew they had smaller submarines they called SDVs—swimmer delivery vehicles—but they looked nothing like this and they were nowhere near as technologically advanced. The SDVs she’d seen looked like oversize steel torpedo casings that let SEALs squeeze inside and travel a distance to their targets. Compared to the SDVs, Annja was riding in a Bentley.

  No, there had to be something else to it all. And she felt certain it had something to do with the HMS Fantome and its treasure. Hadn’t Hunter mentioned rival treasure hunters? Could this machine be a tool of those rival hunters? Were they purposefully trying to scare the Seeker and her crew off the dive site so they could take it for themselves?

  It almost seemed too fantastic to be true and yet Annja had no other possible explanations for what was happening.

  Maybe I should just stop thinking and rest, she thought.

  She leaned back and closed her eyes, taking deep breaths that made her eyelids feel heavy.

  The shark started to ascend. Annja opened her eyes. We’re going up. But where?

  The engine started to slow down. Wherever they were going, it was definitely on a final approach. To Annja it almost sounded like when a plane is approaching a runway and the flaps start to come down while the engine revs up and then throttles back.

  She wondered if the shark had landing gear.

  More oxygen started coming out of the holes and the breeze made Annja shiver just a little bit. Why would they be pumping more air into her now? Did they want her to wake up in case she’d fainted or fallen asleep?

  Annja gripped the sword. Wherever they were, Annja fully intended to jump out just as soon as the mouth opened to let her escape.

  She yawned suddenly, aware that she was seeing small spots in front of her eyes. Spots? She started to feel very heavy and relaxed.

  She bit her tongue and felt blood flow.

  Dammit!

  They were going to knock her out prior to getting her out of the shark. Annja tried to cover her nose and mouth with her clothes, but it didn’t help. Annja spat out a bit of ocean water and felt even more tired.

  She tried to concentrate on the sword, willing it to help her stave off the effects of the gas.

  But it was no good.

  I can’t be found with the sword, Annja thought. And as much as she hated to do it, she closed her eyes and the sword disappeared. At least they wouldn’t find her with it and she could use its surprise factor to her advantage when she woke up.

  If she woke up.

  Annja considered the possibility that they were drugging her now so she wouldn’t give them trouble and they could calmly and methodically kill her at their leisure.

  She frowned. No. If they’d wanted her dead, she already would be.

  Wherever she was going, they wanted her alive.

  And as Annja drifted off to sleep, she found herself wondering what she would see when she woke up.

  26

  When Annja awoke she was covered with a thin, threadbare blanket made of coarse fibers that poked into the exposed bits of her skin. She shivered and realized that she was in a dank cell. A steady dripping sound of water told her that she might be underground or even below the waterline.

  Where the hell am I? She got up and walked the expanse of the ten-foot-by-ten-foot holding cell. The walls were made of smooth stone and small rivulets of water cascaded down, only to disappear into a small drainage hole at one end of the room.

  Annja had no memory of being taken out of the shark when they’d arrived, but of course, that would be due to the gas she’d breathed in. She wondered what was so top secret that they couldn’t afford to let her know where she was. Or perhaps they knew about her sword?

  She thought about Sheila. Sheila had been well briefed on Annja. That meant there was a leak somewhere. Annja tried to figure out how they could have learned about the existence of the sword. Did Garin have a leak in his organization? Or had Roux sold her out?

  Annja frowned. If that had happened, then she would see to taking care of Roux herself.

  Light came from a single bare bulb burning overhead. A small pull chain dangled from it and Annja tested it. The light shut off when she pulled and went on again when she repeated the process.

  So they weren’t necessarily looking to deprive her of sleep. She nodded. That was good news.

  She sniffed and smelled the salt clinging to the air. They were at least near the ocean, but where? Or were they in some sort of massive underwater lair?

  She wondered if Henderson was a reality instead of some story Sheila had told her. Annja tried to picture an old guy using his power to wield influence over the world by devising some mechanical shark that could terrorize people. She almost laughed. It sounded like a bad movie on the Sci Fi Channel.

  She paced off the cell again just to get some blood flowing and tried to examine the walls. She wondered if they had any type of surveillance in the cell. But after checking the walls for what seemed like an hour, Annja couldn’t find a single camera—pinhole or otherwise.

  “Hello?” she called out.

  Hearing her voice made her feel better at least. But she sounded hoarse. Some water would be good. She looked around and saw nothing but the crappy blanket they’d given her to ward off the chill.

  She sat down and tried to figure out what was going on. Was Cole being held in another cell like this? Did he know what was happening? Or had they killed him?

  And what about Sheila? Had she known about this before she jumped or fell into the ocean? Was it all part of some elaborate hoax designed to get the Seeker to move away from the Fantome so they could swoop in and claim it?

  Annja thought of the story Sheila had told her regarding the crucifix of Joan of Arc. She wondered if that was true. Was there another relic of Joan’s that could affect the vulnerability of the wearer?

  Immortality.

  She whistled to herself. Imagine what people would go through to get that. Anything, she concluded.

  And that made this situation all the more dangerous.

  She closed her eyes and checked on the sword. It hovered in the gray mist, ready for her to use. Annja opened her eyes and felt the wall closest to her hand. No, she thought; there would be no sense in trying to hack her way out of the cell.

  She realized that she’d completely ignored the door to her cell, which was carved out of stone just like the rest of it. She could see no locking mechanism and figured it must have been bolted on the other side. A small slit cut into the door opened out beyond, but had a shutter on it.

  Annja scampered over to it and tried to push the shutter back so she could look out.

  It was locked.

  She slumped back. So they were doing their best to keep as much information from her as possible. That was smart, Annja reasoned. If she had prisoners, she wouldn’t want them knowing anything about their surroundings, either.

&n
bsp; But it frustrated the hell out of her. She wanted to know what was going on. And for that, she needed information.

  Annja’s throat ached. She needed some fresh water. She glanced at the walls and the water running down them. She took a sniff and then put her lips to it.

  She spat the water out when she tasted the salt in it. As tempting as it would be drink the salt water, she knew it would kill her. If she took in too much of it, her liver would shut down and she’d die within a day.

  Annja sat again and tried to calm herself. She began doing some deep-breathing exercises.

  She had no idea how long she sat that way but eventually she heard a noise. Footsteps approached her door, echoing along the length of the corridor.

  She heard a click and the shutter was drawn back. She saw a hand slide a tray of food and a container of water into the room.

  Annja dashed for the door, but the shutter slammed shut.

  “Wait!” she called out.

  The footsteps receded, but Annja could hear that they had gone to the right. At least she knew something. If she escaped the cell, she would go right instead of left.

  Annja looked down at the tray of food. A simple ham sandwich with lettuce and cheese. An apple sat next to it. And the container of water was a small sixteen-ounce bottle.

  Annja grabbed at it and tore the cap off. Her subconscious registered that there was no safety seal on the bottle and Annja froze.

  What if they had drugged the water? What if they needed to keep her doped up for some reason?

  She frowned. She needed the hydration. I’ll have to risk it, she thought. And then she drank deep, feeling the cold liquid slosh down her throat. Another two gulps and she gasped as she brought the bottle away from her lips.

  Thank God.

  The water hadn’t tasted funny, which buoyed her spirits some. She looked at the sandwich and then lifted the slices of cheese to see if there was a hidden surprise.

  Nothing.

  Annja tore into the sandwich and chewed it up while washing it down with more of the water. She would need to save some for later, knowing that it was never a good idea to simply assume that if your captors fed you once they would do so again.

  But the food tasted wonderful and the apple was juicy and helped replenish her, as well. Annja chewed it slowly, welcoming the cleansing effect it had on her mossy teeth.

  Before long, her meal was finished and Annja felt content at having ingested water and food. She tried to snuggle up to one of the dry parts of the wall and wrapped the blanket around her. She shivered and started to doze off.

  As she relaxed deeper, she could hear other ambient sounds that drifted to her, bouncing from wall to wall. She thought she could hear the sounds of machines humming somewhere far off in the distance.

  She wondered if they were generators or other machines designed to keep the drains flowing. If she was underwater in some sort of weird cavern, then they would need to keep the water under control or else the entire place would flood in a second and kill them all.

  “Did you eat well?”

  Annja’s eyes snapped open. There was no one else in the cell with her.

  “Who said that?”

  “I did.”

  She frowned. The voice had an accent but one she couldn’t quite make out since the speaker’s volume seemed deliberately hushed.

  Annja scrambled to her feet. Where was it coming from? She’d gone over every inch of the cell, and yet someone was talking to her, presumably through a speaker of some sort that she must have missed.

  “Why am I here?” Annja asked as she continued searching for the source of the sound.

  “You’re here because you threaten our plans.”

  It seemed to be coming from near the roof of her cell. But there was no way Annja could reach the ceiling to check it out. From where she stood, it appeared to be smooth stone, uninterrupted with any cracks or holes that would permit an intercom system from being installed.

  “And what plans would those be?” she asked as they searched.

  “All in good time.”

  “Tell me now.”

  There was a long pause. “No. I can see that you’re busy trying to find the speaker system, so I’ll leave you to that. Don’t want to make it too easy for you, now do I?”

  Annja frowned. It had to be some place in the roof of her cell. Did they have a camera up there, as well?

  “How long are you going to keep me in here?”

  “As long as is necessary.”

  Annja slumped back down against the wall. “Well, if you’re planning on holding me here for any period of time, I hope you have the whole bathroom thing worked out because I’m going to need to use it soon.”

  She heard the lock release on the shutter and saw a pail come through before the shutter slammed closed again.

  “You can use the pail.”

  Annja frowned. So much for modesty. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Don’t you have a bathroom around here?”

  “Of course we do. You do not, however. So I suggest you use the pail. We’ll empty it during your meal breaks.”

  “This is disgusting.”

  “No one told you to get involved. Now you’re simply living with the consequences of your own decisions.”

  “Go to hell,” Annja said.

  “As you wish.”

  Annja heard a click as the speaker system switched off. So she was under surveillance, after all. And she had to use a pail as a bathroom.

  Fantastic.

  She looked at the walls again and wondered if the sword would be able to cleave the rocks enough to get her out.

  It might just be worth attempting if they didn’t clue her in on what was happening soon.

  Next meal, she thought. If I don’t have some answers by then, I’ll take matters into my own hands.

  But what if the stone shattered the blade?

  Well, that would mean she might be free of the sword. She could go back to living her life the way she wanted to.

  Wasn’t that a good thing?

  She frowned. Who the hell knew anymore.

  She pulled the blanket around herself and started to fall asleep. Then she opened her eyes again. They could still watch her.

  Annja got to her feet and reached for the light cord. With a pull, she plunged the cell into darkness.

  “No free shows,” she said aloud.

  But it didn’t seem as if anyone was listening.

  27

  Annja woke up and switched the light back on. She figured that at least several hours had passed since she had fallen asleep. She drank the last of her water, but Annja felt refreshed and energized. She couldn’t detect any trace of narcotics in the food or water, nor did she feel the sluggishness typical of having been drugged, so it seemed fairly certain they weren’t trying to keep her doped up.

  Just a prisoner.

  Within the confines of her cell, Annja had no way of knowing what time it was. She could only guess, but it seemed that another food break should be coming soon. Nothing had happened since the mysterious voice overhead had started speaking to her, so Annja decided that it might be time to get herself out of the cell.

  If she could.

  First things first. She had to figure out where the surveillance was. If they saw what she intended to do, they might be able to send people to stop her. And Annja didn’t want her party interrupted by those she hadn’t invited.

  The voice had come from above. But where? She stared at the ceiling, trying to scan it in-depth. But even so, the ceiling was at least three feet above her. And that meant she couldn’t get her fingers onto the surface to check for possible hiding spots.

  Her eyes went past the lightbulb and she stopped.

  Was it possible to conceal something in a light fixture? She peered closer. The lightbulb screwed into a socket that was embedded in the stone ceiling. But as Annja tried to peer past the brightness of the light, she thought she could see something there. A small grill wrapped ar
ound the base of the socket.

  It was a speaker. Definitely. She stopped looking at it and smiled. All right, she thought, I know where the sound comes from. But how are they watching me?

  Would it make sense to house both the intercom system and the video camera in the same socket fixture? Maybe, but the real problem would be the light. It would make it hard to see much of anything happening in the cell.

  Ideally, they’d have the camera positioned elsewhere. That way they could take advantage of the light source to get a good feed and picture of Annja.

  But where would they put it?

  And what if it was infrared or thermal? It wouldn’t matter if Annja shut the light off. They would still be able to see what she was doing.

  She went to the door and ran her fingers all over the surface and the jamb. She figured it would make the most sense to house it somewhere near there. They’d have a clear shot into the room and be able to see her from all angles.

  Annja missed it the first time, but on the second round, her fingers felt a small nub that jutted out of the stonework. She went back and saw that it looked like a small half dome of acrylic.

  So they had a pinhole with a fish-eye lens to see the entire room clearly.

  Wonderful.

  “What are you doing?”

  Annja looked up at the lightbulb. “Excuse me?”

  “You seem to be expressing a lot of interest in how your cell has been constructed. Take it from us, you can’t get out of there until we want you out.”

  “I’m not thinking about escaping.”

  “Oh?”

  Annja shook her head. “But I don’t like being kept under surveillance. It annoys me. So I was looking to see where you’ve got the intercom system.”

  “And you found it?”

  “In the lightbulb socket. Made the most sense, I suppose.”

  “Good girl.”

  “And the pinhole over the door.”

  “Ah, you found that, too, eh? Brilliant.”

  Annja frowned. “Is it really necessary?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Why don’t you just tell me what it is that you want from me.”