The Sam Reilly Collection

by Christopher Cartwright

  Now’s the time.

  I have to stay conscious long enough for the pressure to equalize.

  A loud crunching sound told her that the car had struck the shallow seabed. Below her, Billie thought she could hear another crack on the window at the driver’s door. She swam down to the front door, where the car was now completely filled with water.

  At the window, a masked man stared back at her.

  Covered in a black wetsuit, tinted facemask, and SCUBA gear, there was something oddly familiar about the man. He could have been any diver, but there was something else she recognized from her past. Where, she could not place.

  He smiled, and she recognized it.

  It seemed sinister somehow, and she remembered where she’d seen it before.

  The man tried to open the door, but the pressure was still too great. Holding her breath, Billie moved to the back doors as the diver continued to fight his way into her car. She hoped the pressure would equalize and she could escape through the back door while he came through the front.

  The diver looked as though he realized what she was thinking at the same time. It gave him additional strength, and after fighting one more time with the door, he slammed his elbow into the window, sending a crack right across it.

  For a moment, Billie thought the window would hold.

  Then he struck it again with his elbow, breaking through the window completely. She watched the man remove the last shards of the window quickly, as he tried to squeeze through.

  Billie perched her back on the floor of the rear seats and pushed with legs against the back door as hard as she could. It didn’t budge on the first attempt, and she was already losing focus as the effects of hypoxia attacked her brain.

  She held onto the door handle and kicked it again.

  This time, the water pressure had equalized, and the door flung open. She turned to swim out. But her head was stuck on something, and as her world darkened, she began to lose the direction of the surface.

  Disoriented and frustrated, she felt the calm that often came before one accepted their death in drowning. It wasn’t that she’d given up, simply a matter of accepting that she’d failed despite her best efforts.

  As her lungs burned with pain and desire, she opened her mouth to take a deep breath of ocean water – and discovered a diving regulator being shoved inside her mouth by a large gloved hand.

  She involuntarily took a deep breath.

  It tasted sweeter than air – almost sugary -- but it soothed the pain in her chest, so she continued to take long deep breaths. By the third, everything seemed to go funny again, and then the world went dark.

  What has he given me?

  And with the fourth breath, all the worries of the world disappeared.

  Chapter Four

  With the heavy landscaping block in his arms, Sam sank to the seabed below. Billie’s Renault Twingo could be seen resting on the sandy bottom. A few remaining bubbles dribbled out. The trunk had been opened, as though she had thought to remove her laptop. The information inside was worth millions of dollars.

  Sam reached the front door.

  Its window had been broken. He scanned the area to see if he could spot Billie, but there was nothing but murky water. He opened the door to make certain she wasn’t stuck inside. The passenger compartment was empty, the glovebox open, and the back door on the other side half ajar.

  Thank God, she got out!

  He dropped the heavy block and then quickly swam to the other side of the car to see if he could see her. Again, nothing. He checked the sand below to make sure he hadn’t missed her, and then calmly swam to the surface, feeling confident they had been lucky.

  It was a wakeup call that their exploits to reach Atlantis were being pursued by others, but at least she’d survived. And now they would be much more cautious.

  Sam broke the surface of the water with his head and breathed deeply. On the surface, he quickly looked around, expecting to see Billie swimming towards the bank of the dike. But he couldn’t see her in the water. He rotated three hundred and sixty degrees, trying to find her.

  Sam was the only person in the water.

  He looked towards the edge of the water, and scanned the faces of the several bystanders who still looked worried.

  She wasn’t amongst them.

  “Did anyone come up?” he yelled at them.

  Most people ignored his question, either because they didn’t speak English, or didn’t know the answer.

  “Please, there was a woman in this car! Did anyone see her come up from the water below?”

  A man looked straight at him and said, “No, sir. I saw her crash, but I have not seen her surface the water.”

  Sam ignored the man’s response and immediately dived below again.

  Frantically, he examined the car from a new perspective. He saw it this time. The front driver’s window had been smashed from the outside. The rear passenger door remained opened and undamaged, giving the impression she’d escaped through it.

  Had someone else come in after her?

  Before he’d thought anymore, he knew that he was right. Sam carefully scanned the area around them, looking for any signs of whoever took Billie.

  There was nothing.

  He returned to the surface, swam to the edge and got back on his motorcycle. There, he picked up his cell phone and hit the call button.

  “Tom, we have a problem. They got to her.”

  Chapter Five

  Andrew Brandt looked at the woman beneath him.

  Despite approaching forty, her skin was delicate as it was white and smooth. Her blue eyes stared at him with wanton desire. Her ordinarily demure smile now contorted in pursed lips as she began to cry out in pleasure.

  And the woman did cry out in pleasure, as he knew she would.

  It began more like a whimper, and then in response to the horror of her own base desire, than the ecstasy of love. Frightened by her inability to control her bodily needs as he showed her exactly what her body was capable of. Her face, aghast in abject desire, unbearable pleasure, and split between the guilt and shame of it all.

  Sarah tried to look away, unable to hide her shame.

  Or her need.

  When he was done with her he climbed out of bed, leaving her still writhing around, naked and insatiable.

  “Come back to me!” she begged.

  “I have a meeting. I must get ready.” He made no apology for her frustration.

  Andrew Brandt examined himself in the mirror.

  Despite his rigorous exercise this morning, his face displayed no sign of the exertion. There was no sweat, his cheeks weren’t flushed, and he breathed calmly.

  There was something hard about his face, as attractive as it was frightening. His hair blond, and groomed so that not even a single strand fell out of place. His eyes were grey, and piercing in their intelligence and power. A cleft chin broke his strong jaw line. Years of practice had allowed him to develop an unreserved smile, which could be used to disarm another’s temper or mistrust instantly. It was entirely fake, but then, the best were.

  If eyes really were the windows to the soul, his would show a man willing to stop at nothing to achieve his every desire.

  And what he desired most was power.

  In another hour he would meet the buyer and make the final arrangements to complete the transaction. At a price of 100 million dollars U.S., he had no intention of making even the slightest mistake. Even to him, that amounted to a massive financial windfall.

  He had a short shower, followed by a long shave as he delicately groomed himself and considered all the things that such money could afford.

  Luxuries, women, power…

  He was born into luxury, although he’d worked hard to improve on the fortune that his father had left him. As for women, Andrew could have as many as he wanted. However, it wasn’t just the amount, but the type.

  Like Sarah Clausen, whom he’d just seduced.

  The daughter of
the billionaire, Edward Worthington, who was the reclusive CEO of Worthington Enterprises, the multi-billion-dollar start-up tech firm. While her old man held the title, most people saw her as the brains and poster child of the company. Unknown to the rest of the general public, or even most employees, Worthington’s was about to make an announcement. Andrew knew what that announcement was going to be, but it was the date of it that was going to make him very rich.

  And for that, he needed Sarah’s help.

  Sarah was what he considered a typical heiress to a fortune. Groomed by tutors, educators, linguists and other specialists since birth, she was the product of the education that only that sort of money could buy. She’d gone on to become Dux at Cambridge University when she studied law. Now, at the age of 40, a control freak in herself and a self-pronounced feminist, she’d managed to avoid romantic relationships all of her life. When he first studied her, Andrew was momentarily worried that she was gay, but further scrutiny showed her to be a workaholic, with standards set much too high for any honest man to meet. Fortunately, he was as dishonest as a man could be. Currently, she served as senior legal counsel to her father’s company.

  That’s what brought her into his life.

  He could take a strong woman for such money and make her weak. Money in itself buys whores, but 100 million dollars buys power. And with that sort of power, you could take a strong woman, strip her of everything she has, and reduce her to nothing but a cheap whore, and inflame her with lust that betrays her own dignities. He felt himself stiffen again at the thought. Sex for him had little to do with physical attraction, and everything to do with power.

  He donned his tailored suit, with matching blue neck tie.

  An Oxford graduate with a Master of Business Administration, Andrew had worked at the Bank of England for nearly a decade before opening his own Merchant Bank. He now earned more in a day than most did in a lifetime. He specialized in unique acquisitions, which were as varied as they were expensive. He specialized in convincing people to sell before they knew they even wanted to.

  Some of his previous transactions included such wonderful items as a nuclear submarine for a private buyer, the secret plans for a new type of hydrogen engine, new pharmacological products, and the remains of one of the Seven Wonders of the World.

  For the most part, his transactions were perfectly legal, so long as he didn’t get caught, on the international playing field that he worked. Some projects more so than others.

  Today’s acquisition was on the dangerous end of that scale, and completely destroyed any pretense of legitimacy.

  He looked at his watch, an old Rolex. It was ten minutes past nine in the morning. It would be in his possession by now. The thought made him think about his acquisition. He smiled happily.

  With a 100-million-dollar price tag, the risk versus benefit had convinced him that he was making the right investment. And after all, that was the only way that a real businessman could look at his transactions. It wasn’t a matter of being moral or ethical, instead, he saw everything as risk versus benefit. In this case, he could amass an even greater fortune for a few day’s work and minor risk, or he could be caught, and spend the rest of his life in jail, or worse, depending on the country of capture, end up shot by firing squad.

  When the request was first made from the buyer, he had said that he’d hate to put a price tag on a person’s life. But then, when the buyer threw out the figure, he was confident such a price covered it.

  He checked his watch again.

  It was 9:15.

  He should have heard by now.

  Andrew walked toward his private lift. Sarah remained on his bed, sensually lying on her side, naked as the day she was born, a look of pleasure mingled with guilt abjectly painted on her face.

  He smacked her bare ass, and she turned around and sat up immediately.

  “Hey, that hurt, you asshole!”

  He ignored her complaint. “Sarah, I need something from you.”

  “Anything for you Andrew.”

  “Good, I’m going to need the precise date your father’s going to release his statement.”

  She sat up, looking serious for the first time that day. “You know about the development?”

  “Of course I do. Why did you think I seduced you?”

  A frown crossed her face, and for a moment, Andrew thought she was going to cry. He’d not expected that of her.

  The thought made him happy.

  “You planned this entire thing, because you wanted to know when my father’s going to come out with the news on Worthington Enterprises?”

  “That’s right,” Andrew said cheerfully.

  She frowned. “That’s what this was about, wasn’t it? You never loved me? You wanted to know protected information.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well you can get fucked. I won’t do it. Besides, do you realize that you and I could both go to prison if we were even caught talking about such things? Don’t you know what that sort of information will cause on the stock exchange?”

  “Insider trading at its grandest scale!” he replied.

  She laughed.

  “Of course you do. And with the amount of money I’m sure you could move on it, the investigators would quickly track it down to me. So no, you can find another whore to fuck!”

  She went to slap him, but he caught her hand. There was no way he was going to let her, a woman, strike him in the face.

  “Here Sarah, have a look at these pictures I had taken last night specifically to remember you by. I wonder what all those trashy mags would think about publishing these images of the world’s richest and most prominent feminist.”

  Sarah dipped her head as she scanned the pictures he placed in front of her.

  Andrew saw with more than a little pleasure, that it was the third picture that made her realize her mistake. It wasn’t being tied spread-eagled, or the marks on her wrists and back from where she’d struggled that had done it for her.

  No, it was the image of her face begging for him. A suppliant resolution that she’d accepted her fate, as the weaker sex.

  To be abused.

  He looked at her beautiful face. There were tears in her eyes and she looked miserable, but there was something else too. He thought he’d imagined it at first, but the more he examined her countenance the more he realized it was there. It was relief. She had been in control her entire life, and he’d made her lose it.

  “It’s August, the 23rd.”

  There were tears in her eyes.

  “Good.”

  Andrew looked at his security guard who’d walked into the room. “Trent, please see this woman out.”

  Sarah quickly attempted to get dressed while the security guard grabbed her.

  “Oh, and Sarah…”

  “What?”

  “I’ll be in town again in two weeks.”

  She stared at him, understanding slowly dawning on her.

  “You will come to me.” A Machiavellian grin crossed his face. “In the meantime, I forbid you to touch yourself.”

  “Yes, master.”

  Chapter Six

  Andrew Brandt caught his private elevator to his secure carpark, ten stories below his One Hyde Park penthouse. It was currently the world’s most expensive and overinflated piece of real estate. He would have to start making his way to meet the buyer.

  In his car, he switched his cell on.

  Andrew didn’t believe in the concept that cell phones were invented so that people could maintain constant contact. He had kept a strict policy of being contactable during specific business hours or prearranged times outside of those hours.

  After returning home from his work in Amsterdam the day before, he’d picked Sarah up. She fell into the category of business, even though he didn’t entirely dislike the prospect of seducing her. His business was to be with her, and for that, he did not want interruptions.

  His smartphone came up with two messages:

  Something�
��s wrong.

  Call me.

  It was Alex, one of the operatives he’d used in Amsterdam.

  Andrew relaxed into the seat of his Bentley.

  It was going to be a long day.

  He then pressed ‘call Alex.

  “Do we have the product?” Andrew asked.

  “No. Someone else kidnapped her before we could do so. It happened yesterday.”

  “Yesterday? I saw her yesterday. Do you know who?”

  “No, but we’ll keep trying. It’s not like they’re going to get her out of here without us noticing. We have all local airports, marine ports, railway stations, and bus lines covered.”

  Andrew looked out the window, temporarily distracted by the conversation, and then said, “The buyer’s not going to be happy.”

  “There’s something else that you might want to know, too…”

  “What?”

  “She had new information about Atlantis.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me. HE was after Atlantis?” Andrew looked at a cat running across the road. He accelerated carelessly, seeing if he could hit the creature.

  “It appears so.”

  “What makes you so certain?”

  “We stole her laptop from the trunk of her car. It was riddled with images of the Arcane Stone and what she had to do to use it.”

  “Really?” Andrew grinned with the surprising new development. “Okay, send the message out, call in all sleeper cells around the world. The Phoenix Resistance are going to have their first meeting for the millennium.”

  It wasn’t every day that two of his projects collided.

  Chapter Seven

  Tom Bower burst into Sam’s hotel room.

  It had taken him less than twelve hours to catch a flight across the Atlantic as soon as he’d found out about Billie.

  “How the hell did you let them do this to her?”

  “It wasn’t my fault. I was following up another lead while she was being targeted.”

  “But by who?”

  “I have no idea. If she’d discovered a new fact about the Master Builders I might have been worried THEY had got a hold of her. But this is about Atlantis. No, whoever got her knows she’d discovered Atlantis.”