Outcast (SEAL Team: Disavowed Book 2)

by Laura Marie Altom

  Parkas were removed and stowed under the bench seats. The raft’s floor was thankfully still dry.

  “Anyone else hungry?” Jasper asked.

  “You’re not suggesting we stop for a full meal?” Dane asked.

  Eden pulled a protein bar from her pack, passing it back to him. “Will this hold you over until—” She screamed.

  He followed her light’s direction to see a skeleton propped against a wall. Poor bastard was garbed in full Nazi gear from his crooked hat to dusty black boots.

  “How do you think he got here?” Eden asked.

  “Maybe he fell off a raft?” Jasper unwrapped the bar, eating half in one bite. “Lost his bearings and with no light, just sat down to die.”

  She shuddered.

  A faint roar made Jasper freeze mid-chew.

  Dane looked back. “Is that grumbling rapids up ahead?”

  “That would be my guess. Put these on.” Jasper tossed Eden and Dane life jackets before strapping one on himself.

  A few minutes later, the craft bobbed and shuddered through a downhill chute that left them and their gear soaked.

  Yeti howled.

  Jasper did his best to avoid a collision, but with boulders the size of Volkswagens, it was inevitable. “Brace yourselves!”

  Water cold enough to be liquid ice surged over the low sides, swirling around their feet.

  Yeti leapt to Eden’s neck.

  She cried out from the scratch of his claws. Blood dripped down her back, but she held tight to the little menace.

  Dane made the sign of the cross on his chest.

  Jasper gritted his teeth. His muscles screamed from the water’s force against the ancient wooden paddle. It snapped. And then they were at the water’s mercy.

  After each surge upward, they crashed down hard. Water cascaded over them, soaking them head-to-toe.

  Jasper had been in some bad spots, but this was looking seriously dicey.

  Just when he thought their situation couldn’t get worse, the water ran even faster. Up ahead, the ceiling height dropped to a mere couple feet of clearance.

  “Get down!” he shouted just before the raft’s fragile rubber wall ripped against the rock wall.

  12

  EDEN SQUEEZED HER eyes shut tight—not that it mattered. She hadn’t crouched fast enough to stop her headlamp from smashing against the low rock ceiling. She assumed Dane and Jasper’s lights had been hit, too, as their world had gone dark.

  Terror welled deep inside her.

  The water in the boat now swirled around her knees. It had long since crowned her boots, and the icy liquid numbed her toes.

  Was this it? How they would die? All alone in a black tomb.

  She’d been consumed by her cancer, but she wouldn’t even have that long to live. She regretted not telling Jasper how much she loved him—for she did. All of this was her fault. Everything. Start to finish. If she hadn’t called him, he never would have charged to her rescue.

  “Everyone all right?” he called, dowsing them in the glow of his back-up penlight.

  “I-I think so.” She hugged the drenched cat.

  “Yes,” Dane said. “Are we sinking?”

  “It would appear so,” Jasper said. “Anyone have anything they could use to bail?” The current had slowed, but they were in a low tube with no way of escaping other than to ride it out—assuming there even was an out.

  Eden tried keeping panic at bay, but with the water now lapping at her thighs, she didn’t have much luck.

  “Am I hallucinating?” Dane asked. “Or is that light up ahead?”

  “This place just keeps getting weirder . . .” Jasper slowly exhaled. “Everyone hold on for a few more minutes. I think that’s a freakin’ dock.”

  The river floated them out of the closed space and into a dimly lit vaulted chamber. Utilitarian wall sconces had been fitted into the rock, and a concrete landing jutted out to greet them.

  “How is this possible?” Eden asked, forgetting how cold she was to gape at the domed ceiling. Stalagmites and stalactites and thousands of spindly soda straws vied for top billing in a bragging show of Mother Nature’s handiwork when left on her own for thousands of years.

  “Geothermal power,” Dane said. “It’s the only way these lights are possible. I’ve long heard rumors, but to see that the Germans actually did it? And that the power is still working. I’m in awe. Your father must at least replace bulbs.”

  “I’m starting to think he really is here.” Hope coursed through her, warming limbs that had gone numb.

  Jasper tossed a rope lasso around a piling, pulling them in.

  Yeti was the first to leap for dry ground.

  Dane followed, holding out his hand to help Eden and then Jasper from the raft.

  It took all three of them to drag the raft from the water onto the cave floor. The small bit of remaining air seeped out as the hull deflated.

  Six rafts stood in a row as they had at the previous stop in this otherworldly labyrinth. Was Dane right? Was this an escape route? Would the river take them further to safety? Or deeper underground?

  “Let’s set up a camp and dry out.” Jasper hefted his pack to higher ground. “We’ll eat, rest up, then start fresh in a few hours.”

  “No,” Eden and Dane said in unison.

  Eden talked over him, “If my dad is here, I need to find him. He could be hurt.”

  “Judging by the looks of this place,” Jasper said, taking it all in, “he’s done far better for himself than we have. Think logically, Eden. We need to at least change into dry clothes before hypothermia sets in.”

  “Okay,” she said, “but then we go.”

  Arms crossed, he nodded.

  She retreated to a dim corner to peel off her unwieldly wet boots, bib overalls and socks to change into dry jeans, socks and sneakers. She felt funny about stripping even to her panties in front of Dane. What had her even more flustered was the sight of Jasper’s muscular thighs. A flash of his abs warmed her more effectively than a crackling fire.

  “Like what you see?” He winked.

  Mouth dry, she hastily looked away.

  What was wrong with her? It wasn’t as if they hadn’t spent entire weekends in bed. They’d explored each other’s bodies at leisure. But now, everything had changed. The chemistry between them seemed supercharged and new. What would it be like to be with him again? Would she ever have the chance?

  “Ready?” Dane asked. “I’m anxious to get started.”

  “Let’s all have a couple protein bars and some water,” Jasper suggested. “I can’t imagine what’s waiting beyond that door.”

  They all looked to the rusty steel barrier.

  Anticipation bubbled in her chest. As hopeful as she was to find her father, she was also enthralled by their accidental discovery of a secret place time had forgotten.

  After eating, they voted to leave their bulky cold-weather gear hanging over an iron rail to hopefully dry. Yes, they were taking a chance in not having it. But wet, the garments would be useless even if needed.

  “Who wants to do the honors?” Dane asked with a broad smile, giving the door a Vanna White flourish.

  “Go for it,” Jasper said.

  Dane gave the thick, iron handle a tug. It didn’t budge. Reddening, he said, “I suppose I could use a hand.”

  Jasper stepped in to help. Together, they opened the door with a rusty-hinged creak that echoed through the chamber.

  What they found was another tunnel lit by hanging strands of mostly burned out bulbs.

  After fifty yards, it branched into another—only with two choices of direction, and even more dead bulbs.

  At the next junction, they had three choices. It had grown dark enough for Jasper to turn on his penlight.

  “This is a disaster,” Dane said. “At this rate, we’ll never find the treasure.”

  “You mean my father?” Eden was more than a little put out that his priorities seemed skewed.

  “Yes.
Of course.” He at least had the good graces to redden.

  Yeti stopped in the middle of the trail for a tongue bath.

  While Jasper fished through his pack for a tool sharp enough to scrape the rock wall, Eden clasped her locket for the usual comfort it provided, only to get a shock. “Um, guys . . .” Hoping this wasn’t a case of her imagination working overtime, she fumbled with the chain’s clasp, taking it off to check for herself if what she thought was happening, really was. “Look at this. My locket is suddenly hot—and the amethyst’s glowing.”

  Dane took one look, and clutched the wall for support when his knees buckled. “Do you know why that locket cost your father such an obscene amount of money? It’s not merely a locket, but a map. Maybe even a key. See the pattern of the tree’s roots? Do they seem familiar?”

  “Jasper check it out,” she passed it to him. “Dane’s right. I never noticed, but the roots are fanning out like a maze of trails. Only one path leads to the stone. We must be close, or it wouldn’t be glowing.”

  “How is it glowing?” He turned it over and over again, then opened it for a look inside. “I don’t get it. How can something this small have such a complex mechanism inside?”

  “I don’t know, but it does. We have to follow the map. Help me backtrack so we can figure this out.”

  It took a while, but they finally learned the pattern to the trails.

  Jasper marked each turn, and the closer they were on the map to the stone on the locket, the brighter it glowed.

  Their journey had grown so fantastical that no one spoke.

  They’d earlier joked about her father being as much of a character as the famed Indiana Jones, but all of this really did feel straight out of a movie—not the sort of thing she’d ever expected to stumble across. As optimistic as she was of whatever fantastic finds were yet to come, she fought a growing anger at her father. How long had he known of this place? Had he taken her mother here before she’d died? If so, why hadn’t he told Eden? Had it been a lack of trust? If so, that hurt. Deeper than she ever could have known.

  They came to another door. This one, with a locking mechanism that looked far too modern for the rusty Nazi motif.

  The key? Judging by the heart-shaped indentation in a panel fixed to the wall, it was obvious.

  Hands trembling, palms sweating, pulse out of control, she pressed her locket into the open channel. For five beats of her heart, nothing happened. And then . . .

  A mechanism clicked.

  An airlock exhaled.

  The door creaked open, welcoming them into another world.

  13

  JASPER HAD SEEN a lot of things in his life. He’d dined in a sultan’s palace. Shaken the hand of the Commander in Chief. He’d made out with a certain starlet who’d been touring with the USO. But never had he encountered anything quite like this.

  The door opened onto a sterile, endless corridor finished in white subway tile that gleamed beneath a row of hanging lights. Classical music floated through the air. Tinny sounding. As if it were far off, yet not quite of this world.

  “Stay close.” Jasper withdrew the 9mm he’d stashed in the waistband of his jeans. He halfway expected the gnarled form of Hitler himself to step out from one of the closed gray steel doors.

  At the end of the hall was another door—this one a more traditional, dark-stained six-paneled oak. He opened it slowly, pulse pounding, with his gun at the ready, fully prepared to open fire.

  If the brightly lit corridor was an odd find this far beneath the earth’s surface, what next awaited him was like something out of a dream.

  They stepped into a two-story library, complete with a ladder on rails to access thousands of leather-bound books held on intricately carved shelves. The space was as cozy as it was grand—softly glowing Tiffany lamps and a flickering gas-log fireplace with a marble mantel. Thick, exotic-looking rugs absorbed their footfalls and a massive grandfather clock ticked far slower than his heart. The fire meant someone was down here—although not necessarily Eden’s father.

  How was this real?

  How could any of this be real?

  While Eden turned in a slow circle, drinking it all in, Yeti leapt onto a blue velvet settee.

  Dane stood by the nearest bookshelf, carefully turning the pages of a book he’d taken from a stand, staring in awe as if he held a glowing orb. “This is a Gutenberg Bible. Until today, there were forty-eight in the world. Now . . .” He paused for a moment as if to regain his composure before fainting. “There are apparently forty-nine.”

  Eden strolled through an open door leading to a dining room.

  Jasper followed.

  The mahogany table would easily seat twenty. The ceiling had been painted sky blue. Cherubs and angels frolicked above. Expensive-looking oil paintings hung in a row. Portraits mixed with old-school food porn.

  “These are Rembrandts, Renoirs, Monet’s and Manet’s . . .” Eden’s voice held a reverent tone. “I can’t even begin to calculate what these must be worth.”

  “So the treasure’s real?” Jasper asked. “But is this worth killing for?”

  He pushed open a swinging door to reveal a kitchen and pantry. Shelves held stacks of china. Tarnished silver goblets and urns and trays. It made him more than a little nauseous to believe full-on Nazi dinner parties must have been held down here.

  A wine cellar had been built into the cavern wall—hundreds of dusty bottles visible through a glass door.

  “I’m kind of in a stupor.” Eden ran her fingers atop a cherry sideboard. “Everywhere I look is something more fabulous. But I should be searching for my dad. He has to be down here, don’t you think?”

  “Someone sure as hell is.” He spied a modern-day mini fridge, plugged with a converter into an ancient wall socket. Inside? Bologna, mayo, dried fruit and a bunch of American cheese and Coke. Drumming his fingers atop the white marble counter, he grew madder and madder. Like what the hell? How could Eden’s dad have known about this and not shared the knowledge with the world? Now, if they weren’t careful, that slimeball Leo was going to get his greedy hands on all of it.

  “Aren’t you a little pissed at your father? Assuming he’s the gatekeeper, he has to have been coming down here for years. It’s like he’s been living a double life. There are probably another couple of entrances, too.”

  When she remained silent, he figured he’d hit a nerve. Not wishing to rub salt in very fresh wounds, he eased her fingers between his. “Let’s finish this, okay? We’ll find him, then get the hell out of here.”

  She swallowed hard. Tears shone in her eyes, but she nodded.

  The kitchen was a dead-end, so they walked back through the dining room to the library where Dane was still engrossed in books and Yeti had fallen asleep on a pillow in front of the fire. He purred loud enough for it to be heard across the room.

  Jasper held tight to Eden while exploring room after room. Formal living areas and bedrooms fit for royalty. A double-lane bowling alley and a theater. Bathrooms with deep tubs and showers and toilets. Marble sinks with plenty of hot and cold water.

  “How is all of this so perfectly preserved?” Eden asked. “How is there no dust?”

  “Remember the airlock when we came in? It’s sealed. Probably has a special ventilation system with filters in the event of chemical warfare.”

  They came to a room with a rumpled bed and an open bag of potato chips on the nightstand. Also on the nightstand was a framed photo of Eden when she’d been a little girl. Her mother held her hand.

  She gasped, then broke down, collapsing on the side of the bed. “H-How could he? Our friends were murdered in cold blood and f-for what? A dozen paintings and a bunch of musty old books?”

  “I’m afraid there’s far more to it than that, my beauty.”

  Jasper whipped around to find Eden’s father, Carl, standing in the open doorway. It took every ounce of his restraint not to punch him.

  “Dad, h-how could you keep all of this from me?” Des
pite her anger, she ran to him for a hug. “Did Mom know?”

  “Yes.” He held tight. “We debated whether or not to tell you, but decided in the end that the burden of carrying this secret was too great. The potential for good is boundless. How else do you think I funded my cancer research? And the station? I’m so close to finding a cure. In the wrong hands, this kind of wealth . . .” He stepped back, ramming his hands in the pockets of wool slacks that looked as if they’d been made in the forties. “The amount of wealth Hitler and his party accumulated down here isn’t just what you must have seen in the formal rooms. That isn’t the tip of the iceberg.” He held out his hand to her. “Come. I’ll show you your legacy.”

  “There’s more?”

  “You have no idea . . .”

  She took his hand, but then turned to look toward the library. “Wait. We should find Dane. I know he’ll want to see.”

  Her father’s gaze narrowed. “You brought Dane?”

  She nodded. “He helped save us. Dad, it was horrible. After you left, Leo’s men took me hostage. They insisted I knew where to find you and your treasure, but—”

  “Well, well, well . . .” Dane entered the room, brandishing the second of the two 9mms Jasper had stowed in his pack. “If it isn’t my oldest, dearest friend who’s been lying to me for the past two decades. All of those times you were supposedly off studying penguins, you were here, lounging in luxury amongst millions in stolen art, books and antiquities.”

  “Wait—” Jasper’s head was spinning. Dane had been lying to them all along? His initial suspicion not to trust him had been right? Meaning, all this time, in having him near Eden, he’d been putting her directly in harm’s way. Meaning, after all these years, his instincts were no better than they’d ever been. “You’re working with Leo?”

  Dane smiled. “He and his men should be here any time.”

  “They can’t get in without Eden’s locket,” Carl said.

  Dane waved off Carl’s concern. “Of course, they can. I placed a rock on the threshold to keep the door from locking. I was the one who convinced Leo that in this case, a soft sell would be infinitely more successful than manhandling the answer from Eden. And look, I’m happy to say I was right.” He stepped behind her, pressing the gun to her head. “Sorry, pet. I really do have a deep affection for you—Jasper, too. But I love money more.”