The Sam Reilly Collection

by Christopher Cartwright

  “Now your turn,” she said.

  Andrew carefully stepped from one stone tower to the next. As with everything she’d seen him do, he appeared confident and surefooted. By the time he’d reached the precipice just before the secret path, she felt the soft ground below her sink. It was dark, and despite shining her flashlight directly on it, the ground seemed to disappear.

  She watched as Andrew took his first couple of steps onto the hidden path. And then she reached down and picked up a handful of the dirt, throwing it directly at him. The dust blackened the entire secret path, along with the stepping stones leading onto it, leaving Andrew to remain floating high above the chasm.

  “My dear Dr. Swan, are you not forgetting that only I am carrying the code to Atlantis?”

  Billie forced herself to smile. “I was thinking of a trade. Throw me your bag, and I’ll throw some more white sand.”

  “I have a better idea. How about I just retrace your steps.” Andrew then slowly stepped forward, into oblivion.

  Billie looked around the room for anything to use as a weapon, but with the exception of the Sphere, the place was barren.

  Andrew laughed at her concern. “Did I not mention that I have the good fortune of a photographic memory?” To prove his point, he then skipped along the wandering secret path.

  He then walked toward the Sphere of Atlantis. It glowed blue in anticipation. Andrew expertly touched and rearranged several of its ancient symbols, changing them from blue to red. He worked quickly, and like a man who had been born to work on such a machine. Unlike Billie and Edward, who had only ever been merely guessing at the purpose of the ancient and complex machine, Andrew appeared to intrinsically know what it wanted. As though it were alive, and it was waiting for him.

  Billie approached slowly. “What are you doing, Andrew?”

  “That’s close enough, Dr. Swan,” he said, raising his handgun toward her. “If you must know, I’m changing the course of history for humanity.”

  Chapter Eighty-Two

  Andrew looked down at the sudden pain in his arm.

  He didn’t even see the ancient knife. He could only guess that she’d picked it up from where it had been buried inside the mysterious darkening alloy. Taking a deep breath, the adrenaline sent him into a frenzy of rage. Before he could come to any real understanding of what had just happened, Dr. Swan had charged at his gun with a force that did her lithe frame injustice.

  The gun went flying from his hand, landing on the floor. In an instant, he ducked to grab it and Dr. Swan brought her knee up to his jaw. Dazed, his fingers gripped the weapon. He pulled it up to shoot her, but before his hand could move, she’d kicked it so hard that it broke a number of his fingers and sent the weapon flying.

  He turned to race for it. Already, she had begun pressing several of the symbols on the sphere. It glowed black with disapproval.

  “You fucking bitch!” Andrew swore. “What have you done?” He then elbowed her hard in her face. She dropped to the floor, barely conscious.

  Edward stepped into the massive cavern, quickly and with growing confidence he moved in, to pick up the Glock. Without saying a word, he pulled the trigger.

  Andrew heard the two shots fire.

  Then he felt the burning sensation in his chest.

  Taking a deep breath, he heard the gurgle of blood in his lungs. He slid to the floor, an aghast look of despair on his face. His confidence now changed to sorrow and loss. He wasn’t worried, just disappointed.

  Dr. Swan was quick to retrieve her knife and hold it close on his throat. The thought made him want to laugh.

  Didn’t she realize he was mortally wounded?

  Andrew tried to speak, but the knife made it difficult. Still, he tried. She had to know the truth.

  Edward started to enter symbols on the sphere. “Quick Dr. Swan – the code! Tell me you have the code to Atlantis!”

  “Yes. Here.”

  Andrew tried to move, but she withdrew her tablet and tossed it toward Edward.

  “It’s all on there,” Dr. Swan said.

  “Good work. I knew I could trust you!”

  Dr. Swan yelled. “Edward, I can’t believe you’re alive! How did you survive?”

  “It’s a long story, but for now, I need to enter the code.”

  The blue sphere glowed radiantly as Edward began quickly inputting the code. When the final image was inputted, the sphere began to rotate on its axis. A shining blue light reaching toward the ceiling.

  “What the hell have you done?” It was the pygmy who spoke with vitriolic rage. “You were supposed to bury Atlantis properly, not activate it!”

  Edward smiled, pulled the pistol out again and shot the pygmy dead with a bullet straight to his head. “Sorry little king. I lied.”

  “What the fuck have you done?” Billie cursed.

  “Indeed, I am very sorry,” Edward said. “I neglected to mention that I’m part of the Phoenix Resistance. All I’m doing is making the world right again. Andrew, you were supposed to activate it! I knew that your lavish lifestyle would make you weak. Greedy, you were most likely trying to determine where if you could reprogram it to destroy parts of Manhattan only – making my investment in high altitude real estate worth a fortune to you.”

  Andrew tried to reply, but couldn’t.

  Billie looked up at him. “But it was already activated. The code was supposed to deactivate it!”

  “Yes, well you were very gullible, weren’t you? What did you think was happening? That you had walked in here, touched some things and triggered a cataclysmic event? No, I’ve tried for nearly fifty years to get my hands on the code to Atlantis, and only you have been able to give it to me. So thank you. It’s a real shame that we’re all going to die.”

  Chapter Eighty-Three

  Sam fired three short bursts from his M16 and the machine gun sprayed Edward Worthington before he could finish his next sentence. He and Tom then quickly crossed the secret path over the dark ravine.

  “How much time have we got?” he asked.

  “About five minutes,” Billie replied.

  Letting go of Andrew, she began examining the sphere again.

  Sam looked at the code and then at the sphere. “Can you deactivate it?”

  “I have no idea. I mean, it must be possible, but I wouldn’t have a clue how.”

  Andrew began to move. His face was white with sweat beads. Blood frothed at his mouth as he exhaled.

  Sam stepped toward him. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  Andrew tried to speak, but the bubbling blood in his lungs made it difficult to hear what he was trying to say.

  Sam grabbed him and tried to listen closely. “What is it?”

  In barely an audible whisper, Andrew replied, “I can stop it.”

  “Why should we trust you? You’ve spent the last five weeks trying to get me killed. We know that you were the leader of the Phoenix Resistance.”

  Andrew spoke again, but no one could hear his words.

  Billie stepped in. “Because I have no idea how to stop this thing, and the timer is now displaying two minutes!”

  They helped him to stand next to the sphere. It glowed positively with him. As though he’d been rejuvenated by the ancient sphere, Andrew began rapidly working with his hands along the myriad of symbols.

  Billie looked at him. The wounds to his chest were now almost entirely gone. “Who are you?”

  His disarming smile returned, and Andrew said, “My name’s Andrew Brandt, and I have waited nearly two hundred years to infiltrate the Phoenix Resistance and protect the sphere of Atlantis.”

  Sam grabbed his arm. Previously badly wounded by Billie’s knife, it was now almost entirely healed. “That’s impossible. No one lives that long.”

  “You’re right. It is impossible,” Andrew replied, like a creature from beyond our reality. “If you want to live, I suggest you both leave now.”

  “What are you going to do?” Billie asked.


  “I’m sending Atlantis where it will be protected for another thousand years.”

  He entered the code to Atlantis and the Sphere glowed blue. He held on to two specific symbols. Sam had studied them before, but had never truly worked out what their purpose was. Literally, one translated to life, while the other, death.

  The ground began to shake and small stress fractures slowly reached up toward the ceiling of the massive cavern.

  Tom looked at the large crack in the wall. “Sam, Billie. It’s time to go, the roof’s going to come down soon.”

  “We’re right behind you.”

  Sam stopped at the edge of the chasm and glanced at Andrew once more. His eyes were alive, and he appeared happy – finally in possession of the greatest power on earth.

  Chapter Eighty-Four

  Billie was the first to slide through the incinerator and back into the vault. She pressed the button for the elevator. Her large brown eyes appeared larger, if that was even possible, while they waited.

  “Sam, do you realize what this means?” she asked.

  “Billie, I just watched a man virtually return from the dead because he touched a blue sphere, and now, the entire building is collapsing beneath us. So, no. I have no idea what any of this means!”

  “Think about it. What if the Master Builders were the only survivors of the great flood who maintained the full knowledge of the technologies of Atlantis?”

  “And why did they of all people retain the knowledge, when others joined their fellow hunter gatherers in the mountains and survived?” Tom asked.

  “What if the reason they maintained the knowledge was they were immortal?”

  Sam stepped into the elevator. “That’s impossible.”

  “They were Gods! The ones the ancient Atlanteans worshiped. Poseidon was a god. They were immortal.”

  “That’s impossible.”

  “No. Everything’s impossible until it has been done. Just because no one’s ever heard of it, doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

  “Yes it does. That’s exactly what it means. It’s made up.”

  “But it would answer everything. We know that the Master Builders were just a few super intelligent people, who used armies of men to build their great works. How could the same person build the pyramids if they didn’t live forever?”

  “You’re talking about legends, the Holy Grail – nothing more.”

  “Yes, but today we stepped inside Atlantis, entered an ancient code that was otherwise planning on sending a comet hurtling toward earth.”

  “Okay, so we’ve had an unusual day. For now, I will accept that there’s a possibility they lived a much longer life than what we know of. Andrew told us that he spent nearly 200 years trying to infiltrate the Phoenix Resistance, but that’s a long way off saying they were Gods.”

  “Okay, but it’s worse than that.”

  “What’s worse than that?”

  “If what we think is true, then the Master Builders are still around. That means they’re here, in our time. Weaving their Machiavellian webs of purpose, but for what ultimate desire, or where, we have no idea.”

  Sam had another cold shiver down his spine.

  “That thought’s really going to send terror through the heart of the Secretary of Defense.”

  Outside the elevator a blue glow had encompassed the building. The entire structure shook for a couple minutes and then the light and vibrations stopped completely.

  Billie looked at her feet. They had finally stopped moving. “It’s over. Atlantis is gone.”

  Chapter Eighty-Five

  Sam looked over to see the Secretary of Defense. She was on her phone – most likely giving the President her account of the events. She hung up and walked toward them.

  “I suppose a thank you is in order.” It was as close as the Secretary of Defense had ever come to thanking him for his services. “You must know that the events of the past five weeks must be buried as deep as Atlantis. As for our involvement in it, we will deny everything. And Russia will continue to stay out of it. Any public appreciation would be out of the question.”

  “Of course.” He smiled at her. Sam wondered how much her appearance of disliking him was a pretense. She smiled back. It was almost seductive in its array of meanings. Somehow, while he’d let his guard down on the pretense of flirtation, she had sensed his reticence.

  She smiled pervasively at him. The way a beautiful woman knew to seduce any information out of a man. He couldn’t stand the woman, but there was no denying she was insatiably beautiful. Her coy, flirtatious smile ended abruptly, as though she’d seen straight through him. Back to her normal, arrogant self, she said, “You learned something, didn’t you?”

  “About Atlantis?” He smiled. “No, only more questions. But seeing as your organization is in the business of plausible denial, I won’t try and interrogate you for their answers.”

  “Not about Atlantis. You made an unexpected discovery about the Master Builders, didn’t you?”

  He shook his head. “No, I’m afraid not.”

  Sam had been introduced to one of the greatest theories about the Master Builders since he’d first heard of their existence. It would change everything about the future, but he would be damned if he was going to tell her what he’d learned before he found some proof. Even he thought Billie’s explanation was fanciful, at best.

  Chapter Eighty-Six

  Sam sat down on the balcony of his father’s Fifth Avenue Penthouse overlooking one of the most beautiful cities in the world. Tom poured a glass of champagne for everyone. Billie took a glass and so did Matthew, Sam’s skipper of the Maria Helena, who had flown in that night to celebrate.

  Holding his own glass up high, Sam said, “A toast, to the human race. May we learn from our mistakes, so that we gain the right to survive.”

  They each drank quickly.

  “So, what are you going to do now?” Sam asked, staring at Billie.

  “You and I both know where I have to go,” she replied.

  “Where?” Tom asked.

  “If the ancient Master Builders really were immortal, it would finally explain some of the research that my grandfather did. I have to return to one of the earliest archeological sites I ever visited – to a place my grandfather took me when I was just a little girl. And then I have to complete what he started.”

  “So you’re leaving us again?” Matthew said.

  “I’m afraid so. But don’t worry. When I have the answers that I’m looking for, I’ll call your boss for some help. Sam, I’ve saved your ass enough times over the past decade. One of these days, I’m going to call in that favor, and you and Tom are going to help me complete this thing.”

  Sam poured another glass, drank it, and then replied, “I’m looking forward to the day that we both have answers on that account.”

  The night carried on, and the four of them consumed far more alcohol than any of them intended. Finally, Sam looked at Matthew and said, “Tell me Matthew, what’s happened?”

  Matthew shook his head. “What do you mean?”

  “I know you. There’s little that would make you leave your beloved ship, the Maria Helena, alone for more than a few hours, let alone an entire twenty-four of them. I appreciate you’ve come here to celebrate, but in all the time I’ve known you, you’ve never once sat down and had a glass of anything with me until tonight. So, now I ask again, what’s happened?”

  Matthew’s face flushed. “There’s been another rogue wave.”

  “Any casualties?”

  “Yes, another ship – the Global Star.”

  “That makes three of my father’s liners this month? He must be ropable. I’m surprised he hasn’t called to tell me to fix it.” Sam stopped and looked at Matthew’s expression. “Christ, he sent you to retrieve me, didn’t he?”

  “Yes. He’s lost three of his ships.”

  “But the weather’s been good.”

  “That’s just it, Sam… rogue waves occur out of complet
e randomness. There’s no way to predict when one will strike. On average, every 4th wave is one and a half times the median height of the waves in an area, whereas every 16th is double. However, only one out of every 800,000 is a rogue wave, described as more than ten times the median wave height.”

  Sam nodded his head. He was mildly inebriated and he’d heard the science of rogue waves previously. “So what? Rogue waves occur randomly in nature.”

  “And yet three have occurred within the Bermuda Triangle in the past month. The shipping captains have started to complain its bad luck; the insurance companies are crying fraud; and I’m afraid something much more sinister is happening.”

  Sam thought about it for a moment before replying. “You have any idea what the hell might be causing that, Tom?”

  “Not a clue. If it was hurricane season, or something, maybe. But there’s currently no severe weather warnings on the forecast.”

  “Okay, I’m away for a few days. I promised Aliana we’d go somewhere far from the ocean. Then I suggest we take the Maria Helena for a cruise into Bermuda in hunt of whatever’s creating these artificial rogue waves, and put a stop to it. . .”

  The End

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