The Sam Reilly Collection

by Christopher Cartwright

  “Seeing as Atlantis is more renowned for its enormous wealth, we can hope that whoever we’re dealing with are willing to negotiate on financial terms.”

  “You mean ransom?”

  “Sure. Your father’s rich enough to pay anyone off. You will buy her life, won’t you?”

  “Hold on Tom. I know you’re smitten with her, but let’s not jump the gun here. No one has even asked for a ransom yet. We might just solve this problem ourselves. Alternatively, I’m sure you can agree that Billie can be… how do I say this? A little rough around the edges. We might just get lucky and have them decide she’s not worth it and send her back?”

  Tom looked at Sam. The man was making a joke, but even so, it was the wrong one. He fought himself not to take the bait.

  “Okay, what about your lead. What did you find?”

  “Nothing. A dead end.”

  “So what exactly do we know happened to Billie?”

  “She was on her way back from the National Archives Center when she called me to tell me that some people had been following her. I told her to stay on the main roads and that I would come and get her.”

  “So what happened? Why didn’t you protect her?”

  “By the time I reached her, they had already got to her. It appears that someone intentionally drove into her to send her off the bridge and into the bay below. By the time I entered the car, one of the windows on the driver’s side had been broken – from the outside in – and the rear back door was still wide open.”

  “Okay, so someone took her while the car was sinking. That’s promising. At least they didn’t intend for her to drown. Did you retrieve anything from her car?”

  Sam looked guilty.

  “When I dived down the trunk was open and there was nothing inside.”

  “Oh shit! Don’t tell me…”

  “She should have had her laptop with her today.”

  Tom shook his head. “Do you have a backup hard drive?”

  “Sure, but now they know what we do. Which means we’re in trouble.”

  Tom grinned. “That’s great news…”

  “What the hell makes you say that?”

  “Because if Billie’s as smart as we both know she is, she’ll work out the next stage of the map and leave a clue for us.”

  “That’s great, but you’re forgetting one thing.”

  “What?”

  “We have to work out the next step of the map.”

  “But we know that she was on to something at the National Archives. She found it, didn’t she?”

  “Yes, the Arcane Stone.”

  “That sounds like something out of Harry Potter. What is it?”

  “Legend is, the Arcane Stone, when placed correctly, will guide the viewer to the opening of the Atlantis Archives – a secret library built during the reign of the Atlantean people, in order to document their history.”

  “So, she has it?”

  “No she made digital copies. Said the security was too tight to steal it, or she would have.”

  “Do we know where to use it?”

  “No, but Billie definitely did. And I’m hopeful we can work it out.”

  Chapter Eight

  Andrew entered the National Archives building.

  After watching the two men walk up the stairs, he followed them, walking up the first two sets of stairs and heading directly toward the last three rows of archives, in a section dated 1630 to 1650. There, the two men had stopped to examine the dates. One appeared average in height, while the other looked like a giant. Both men, he noticed, had arms and shoulders as big as professional boxers. There was also something about their posture that suggested they were both confident and focused at the same time.

  The taller of the two had dark curly hair and hazel eyes. His face portrayed a certain intensity that Andrew couldn’t quite put his finger on immediately. He carefully examined the man’s features until it registered, as he knew it would – this man has a relationship with Dr. Swan which is strictly non-professional. Whereas the shorter one, who was still at least six feet tall, had dark blue eyes, tousled brown hair that looked like he’d just come out of the surf, and a grin that made him appear more interested in the antiquity he was admiring than whether or not he was able to rescue Dr. Swan.

  He guessed they had both served in the military at some stage, and would be quick and capable at defending themselves if the need were to arise. Not that Andrew envisaged any reason for that today. After all, he wanted them to succeed as much as they did. It was only through them he could discover where Dr. Billie Swan had been taken.

  To reach Atlantis, he was going to need her help, and he would have it – whether she wanted to give it, or not.

  He had no reason to hide. He’d never met or even seen either man before. He’d heard about Sam Reilly, and had previously been approached by his rich father with business, but there was no way the two men could place him with any connection to Billie’s abduction.

  Especially, since, in the end, someone else got to her first.

  The two men in front of him opened several books, appearing to check serial numbers and dates. After making notes, he heard the shorter of the two men say, “Okay, let’s go get it.”

  Andrew opened up a book called Reclaiming Land from the Sea and pretended to read it as he watched the two men enter another room labeled Historical Artifacts.

  The shorter of the two handed the librarian a piece of paper, presumably with the item’s serial number. Both men were asked to provide photo identification and then directed to sit down.

  Andrew put his book back and walked closer toward where Sam and Tom were now patiently sitting, waiting for the librarian to bring out whatever it was they were after. The second she returned and placed it on the table in front of them, the lights above made it shine like an orange sun. He was stunned at its appearance. He recognized the artifact immediately.

  The Arcane Stone

  Confused, he recalled that the Arcane Stone had been lost for centuries.

  He watched the two men quickly examine the stone. Then, after a quick exchange of words that he couldn’t quite make out, the taller of the two placed the artifact in his pocket and stood up.

  Andrew looked to the entrance at the other end of the building. There were at least ten security guards.

  All armed.

  Surely they wouldn’t be so stupid as to try to steal the damn thing?

  His eyes returned to the room they had been sitting in. They were both gone. Andrew quickly ran to the main entrance of the artifact room.

  There he was met by the same lady who’d retrieved the artifact for the two men.

  “Where did they go?” he asked, urgently.

  “Where did who go?”

  “Sam Reilly and Tom Bower. They were examining the Arcane Stone.”

  “I’ve never heard of those gentlemen.” She smiled helpfully and said, “But there is a Mr. Duchamp and his associate, from the British Museum, who are examining the artifact.”

  She turned her head to point them out, but they were no longer able to be seen.

  “I’m sorry. They appear to have left.”

  Andrew turned around, scanning the area, and then said, “And they took the Arcane Stone with them. Call security. Place the archives into emergency lockdown.”

  “Who are you to give me orders?”

  Andrew showed the lady his ID card. She stepped back in visible fear.

  “Yes, of course, Mr. Brandt.”

  Chapter Nine

  Sam Reilly followed Tom, who walked confidently out the front door of the artifact storage room. Neither of them ran but to a casual observer appeared focused and moving toward a purpose. No one would have expected them to have committed a great theft.

  He took note of the man in the dark suit with a blue tie. Sam thought he looked out of place reading the history of the development of Amsterdam’s waterways. Even at a glance, Sam thought the man appeared to be more suited to a boardroom a
s an executive than an archeologist. Then he saw the distinct bulge on the side of his coat.

  The man was packing a weapon of some sort.

  Judging by the shape it made, Sam was pretty confident it had a silencer attached to its barrel. And that meant he wasn’t part of the good guys’ team. He certainly didn’t look like any of the security personnel he’d taken note of when they entered the building.

  Sam looked at Tom’s face. One glance, and Sam knew they shared the same evaluation of the man. The two quickly moved behind the next row of shelves. Without saying a word, they began following the miles of bookshelves deeper into the heart of the National Archives Center.

  And then the alarm sounded.

  “Well Tom, that was unexpected,” Sam said calmly. “Do you think you might let me know next time before you steal an ancient relic?”

  Tom looked guilty. “Sorry, I figured we don’t have time to play by the rules. It was meant to have been made of copper or something. Can’t be too valuable. I didn’t expect them to have someone guarding it.”

  “Well, it’s done now.” Sam picked up his phone and rang a secure number.

  “Who’re you trying to call at a time like this?”

  “Elise. And I’m trying to get us out of here.”

  Elise was a computer whiz Sam had met years ago during his specialized training as a Ghost Agent for the U.S. Military. He never saw her in person, only through computer challenges and games of riddles designed to test how each of them responded had they become friends. From what he’d heard, Elise had an IQ of 162 – that was two points higher than Einstein, and she’d been recruited by the CIA when she was still a teenager.

  Elise had discovered something that she didn’t agree with while working for the agency and a few years later, simply disappeared. Sam worried that her malcontent had gotten her killed, but last year she started sending him encrypted messages that only he and four other people on the planet could possibly decipher. Since then, Elise had been working intermittently on a variety of projects for Sam.

  Sam took the lead and started running down a set of stairs, which led deeper into the archives storage, where millions of boxes covered more than ten miles of basement.

  “Where the hell are you headed? We’re only burying ourselves deeper by going that way.”

  Sam ignored the question and kept running.

  “Sam, what do you need?” It was Elise, his computer whiz, who answered. Her voice was curt, as though she’d been expecting his call.

  In front of them, a solid glass door was locked. Tom kicked at it several times without making so much as a scratch.

  “You know how we discussed plan A and plan B for getting the Arcane Stone?” Sam said.

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, Tom decided he’d elect for plan B. Now we’ve got about twenty security guards, and some sort of spook I’ve never seen before, after us. We’ve just reached the basement, and the first door is locked.”

  “Ah, boys. You sure will get yourselves into trouble.”

  Above, someone started shooting at them. He guessed it must have been the man with the silencer, because he couldn’t hear the sound of the shots being fired. Only the sight of bullet holes ahead let him know. They were off by several feet. More warning shots, he guessed.

  “Not to rush you Elise, but we’re a little short of time. Can you open the basement door or not?”

  “Hang on. I’m just getting you on their CCT. Ah, there you are. Tell Tom he looks guilty as hell.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s because he is. Not that it’s gonna matter much if you don’t get us out of….”

  And then the glass doors clicked open.

  They both ran towards the end of the corridor, where the next door opened automatically for them, and then the next one.

  “I’m just going to superimpose fictional characters over your bodies, so that the investigators don’t get an accurate image of you two. You’re now Santa Claus, and I’m afraid Tom’s one of the reindeer… you know that one with the bright red nose, or something…”

  “Rudolf?”

  “That’s the one.”

  Sam stopped. Dead in his tracks. The last door remained firmly locked.

  “Elise, I’m going to need the last door opened.”

  “Are you sure? That’s a pressurized room – they’re not going to be very happy if you destroy their sterile atmosphere.”

  “And I feel terrible about it, really I do… but if you don’t open it, I’ll be asking you to break us out of prison, or more likely, find us a nice place to be buried!”

  The door opened.

  And the two men walked into the sterile room.

  Sam looked around, pulling covers off drawers, searching for something.

  “Stop where you are! You have no way out, and we’re armed.” It was the stern voices of the security guards.

  The security door closed once more.

  A couple of the guards kicked at it aimlessly before accepting that it was locked and had been designed to offer protection against force.

  Sam looked behind and saw that the man in the dark suit with the blue tie was ordering them about. He stared at the man for a second. There was something sinister about his grey and intense eyes.

  Who are you?

  Confident that the door was sealed for the time being, while Elise had control of their computer system at least, Sam turned to ignore them and kept pulling expensive drawers out of the desks around the sterile room.

  “What are you looking for Sam?” Tom asked.

  “A way out, anywhere.”

  “Um… those are just drawers. What are you expecting to find?”

  “This,” Sam said revealing an opening.

  Sam turned to look at the man who had been following him since he arrived at the National Archives Center.

  And then stepped into the garbage chute.

  Chapter Ten

  It was a short fast ride to the bottom, where Sam landed on a pile of garbage. He cringed when he considered what type of previously sterile equipment could have been thrown out.

  “You okay, Tom?” he said, while climbing out of the bin, just in time to avoid having Tom land on him.

  “Never better – you?”

  “I’m fine.”

  He admired his new environment. Most of Amsterdam was built on dikes, or piers above the waterways and canals. The National Archives Center was above such water, but below it there was a world built for boats – shallow boats – that could move waste from underneath hundreds of buildings just like this one. If Sam reached up, he could almost touch the ceiling, which formed part of the road above them. In the distance, light flickered in through several openings to the outside world.

  Next to him, as promised, a wooden sports boat was tied up to the jetty.

  “Look Tom, some nice person left the keys for us.”

  Tom grinned. “I knew you weren’t going to get us killed – today.”

  Starting the motor, Sam grinned as he threw off the rope lines and began heading out. A heads up display came on in front of him, revealing a preprogramed map of the waterway below the city of Amsterdam. Like a GPS, but based on navigation markers instead of satellites. He began to follow it.

  “That was close,” Sam said, shaking his head. “I thought you’d give me a bit more of a heads up before doing something reckless with our lives.”

  “Sure was. Hey, what was plan A, anyway?”

  “Plan A?” Sam laughed. “I call my dad, he asks a favor from a friend who’s President of the board, and we get to borrow the Arcane Stone.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me? We nearly got killed, and you could have just mentioned that your dad’s friend is on the board?”

  “Yeah, well, to be honest, it could have taken a few days to arrange. I’m with you. Every minute counts. Besides, we’ll return their artifact when we’ve got Billie back in one piece.”

  “You might want to throw in a couple million in rebuild cost
s,” Tom said.

  “I wouldn’t say we did that much damage.”

  “Yeah, but he might.”

  Sam looked up at the bridge ahead.

  Where a man dropped a grenade down on them.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sam swerved the boat to the left.

  As it turned in a sharp arc, both men were pushed hard into the boat’s leather seats as centrifugal force hammered them with pressure. The massive V8 engine screamed, and the back of the boat dug deep into the water. A bow wave seven feet high lapped toward the grenade, and then the boat took off again.

  Shooting off in the new direction, their bow had only just broken the surface tension, allowing them to skim along the water – and then the grenade detonated.

  The blast sent jets of water in all directions.

  But their boat rode high, with its bow skimming above. Sam turned his head back as much as he dared while keeping the boat on its careful balancing track.

  “Are we clear?” Sam shouted.

  “Yeah I think we just made it.”

  And then just ahead, five jet skis approached.

  “Any chance they’re just out for a joyride?” Sam asked.

  A dozen bullets raked the front of their boat.

  “I guess that’s a no.”

  Sam swerved to the right.

  “Tom, have a look in the back there. See if Elise left us something more useful.”

  “I’m onto it.”

  A moment later Tom lifted up an RPG 7 – the Russian version of the Rocket Propelled Grenade Launcher, with an explosive head designed for antitank warfare.

  “How about this?”

  “Sure...” Sam said, taking a turn to the left again, down a narrow waterway. “I was thinking something more along the lines of a machine gun, but that’ll have to do. But there’s five jet skis. What are you going to do, blow up each of them?”

  “I think I’ve got an idea. See that bridge over there on the right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you think you can make it there?”

  “I’ll give it a try.” Sam turned to the right again.