The Atlantis Plague: A Thriller (The Origin Mystery, Book 2)

  The pilot swallowed. “Sir?”

  “Put down somewhere else. They could be waiting near the helicopter to ambush us. We’ll survey the ground by foot.”

  Dorian checked his phone again. No messages. Why?

  Was Adam dead?

  He hoped not. That would be the final loss, the very last family he had, his only relationship in the entire world. His brother. The only person in the world he trusted to capture Kate Warner. And he was somewhere in Rabat. But why? What was here? Dorian was sure history could be his guide, reveal the exact significance of Rabat, but who gave a damn? History was so much work.

  “Do any of you know the history of Rabat? Any significant cultural points?”

  The soldiers turned to him, blank looks on their faces.

  The pilot called over the intercom, “Mdina was the Roman capital in ancient times. The Phoenicians and the Greeks before them governed from there as well.”

  Who fills their head with this useless shit? Dorian thought. “Very interesting… But we’re not in Mdina, are we? What’s in Rabat?”

  “They buried their dead here.”

  “What?”

  “The Romans placed a premium on sanitation. And safety. They built walls around their cities and wouldn’t let the dead be buried within the walls. Rabat was a suburb—”

  “What the hell are you saying? Get on with it!”

  “There are burial chambers here. Ancient ones. The catacombs of St. Paul.”

  Dorian considered this. Yes, it was exactly what David and Kate would be here for—dead bodies, ancient genetic clues to the cure. How many thousands of years were buried below this ancient city, in the stone chambers used over the ages? Had someone hidden an ancient body among these burial chambers, cloaking it, hiding it in plain sight? It didn’t matter. All he needed was her, the code, the knowledge in her mind.

  Slowly, the figure emerged from the darkness. David gripped the trigger. He depressed it slightly, ready to fire.

  The man emerged from the tunnel, his hands raised.

  Janus.

  Kate stood from the table. “Thank God. I need your help.”

  Janus closed the distance to her. David instinctively followed the scientist with his gun.

  “You found it?” Janus asked.

  “Yes—”

  “The Ark—from the Tibetan tapestry? It was here? All this time. The alpha. Adam?” Janus asked.

  Kate nodded.

  “Extraordinary…” Janus mumbled as he eyed the computer. “May I?”

  “Of course, please.” Kate stepped aside.

  “Where’s Kamau?” David called, over his shoulder.

  “We got separated after the scream.”

  “He’s alive?”

  “I certainly hope so,” Janus said, as he typed on the computer, his eyes scanning back and forth.

  A minute passed with David focusing on the tunnel entrance and Kate and Janus staring at the computer.

  Janus nodded. “This is it—the point of origin, the first human to receive the Atlantis Gene. If we combine the genome with those bodies from the bubonic plague and survivors of the Spanish flu outbreak, it all makes sense. I think they can isolate all the endogenous retroviruses from this dataset.” He turned to her. “This is it, Kate.”

  Kate grabbed the sat phone and plugged it into the computer. She worked the computer. “It’s uploading.”

  Janus paced away from the computer, toward the entrance to the tunnel.

  “You can’t go down there,” David said.

  “I am afraid I must,” Janus answered. He turned to David. “For a scientist such as myself, this is the opportunity of the ages. The first human of a wholly new tribe, the genetic cataclysm that began all that came after. The history, the science. Despite the risk, I have to see it with my own eyes.”

  “Stay here—”

  Janus slipped into the tunnel before David could stop him.

  Kate disconnected the sat phone from the computer and dialed quickly. David took up position between her and the tunnel’s entrance.

  Paul, I just sent a new data set—Yes—What—No, I didn’t check the message.

  Kate’s eyes went wide. “No… I… thank you for letting me know. Call me back when you have the data.” She ended the call. “Janus and Shaw. They’re both fakes.”

  From the tunnel, David heard footsteps approaching the opening. He raised his gun, ready to fire, but the figure emerging from the darkness stopped.

  CHAPTER 87

  St. Paul’s Catacombs

  Rabat, Malta

  Kate focused on the tunnel entrance, trying to see who was coming. The figure stepped out, his arms in the air.

  Kamau.

  He stood in the entrance of the tunnel, fighting the light with his arms as if it were drowning him.

  “Are you okay?” David asked.

  “I… can’t see.”

  David rushed forward and helped Kamau out of the tunnel and to a chair at the long table where Kate sat. She thought the African looked disoriented, weakened somehow.

  “What happened?” David asked.

  “Janus. He blinded me with a light weapon. It disabled me for a while.”

  David focused on Kate. “He could have manipulated the data.”

  Kate opened her mouth, but stopped when the sat phone began vibrating on the table. She snatched it up and answered quickly.

  One result—no—I think you have to—I agree, Paul—Call me back when you know.

  She ended the call. The one therapy was their only shot. But…

  “They found one therapy,” she said. “They’re going forward with it. They don’t have any alternatives.” She stared at David. “We need to talk to Janus.”

  David walked closer to Kamau. “How bad is your sight?”

  “Getting better. Still blurry.”

  He’s putting up a front for his commanding officer, Kate thought.

  David handed him an assault rifle from the table. “I want you to shoot anything that comes out of that tunnel.”

  He turned to Kate. “Chang is dead, I’d bet on it. It’s just Shaw and Janus down there. We know where Janus is going. I’ll bring him back.” To Kamau, he said, “When I’m at the tunnel entrance, I’ll call ‘Achilles coming out’ before I exit.”

  Kamau nodded.

  Then David was gone, into the darkness of the tunnel.

  Kate walked to the table and picked up a handgun. She ran her finger over the words engraved into the side. SIG SAUER.

  “Do you know how to use that?” Kamau’s deep voice echoed in the cavernous space.

  “I’m a real quick learner.”

  Adam Shaw placed another pack of explosives into the stone cutout in the tunnel. Where to go next? He should have made a map back to the museum lobby; the tunnels were never-ending. Somewhere in the distance, he heard footsteps. He clicked his lantern off.

  He receded deeper into the burial chamber that lay just off the tunnel. The rubber grip of the knife made a slight sound against his fingers as he drew it from the sheath.

  The approaching figure was carrying a lantern. The light grew brighter with each passing second.

  Shaw crouched and waited. The burial chamber was small, a roughly six-foot by ten-foot narrow chamber, one of many hollowed out appendages off the main tunnel. He would only have a second to see and take his prey.

  He tried to pace the footsteps in his mind, knowing he would have only a split second to time his lunge.

  Closer.

  Closer.

  The figure came into view.

  Janus.

  Shaw let him pass. He exhaled. But there were more footsteps—behind Janus. Kamau?

  They had been together.

  Shaw froze.

  David.

  Chasing Janus.

  Then he was gone. And Shaw was glad. In the recesses of his mind, he could admit, barely, that Vale could take him hand-to-hand, even if Adam had the element of surprise. He had read David’s
file, his Clocktower personnel report, before he had begun this mission. He had been searching for a way to kill him since the second he first saw him, since David had risen out of the waters of the Mediterranean and slammed him against the floating wreckage of the plague barge—impressing upon Shaw, literally, how capable he was at hand-to-hand combat.

  But Adam didn’t have to worry about David now—he was zooming deeper into the tunnel, away from Kate, the thing David valued most, leaving Shaw open to capture her, complete his mission, and get his revenge upon David.

  Adam stepped from the burial chamber and turned left, following the path David had revealed, to Kate.

  Janus ran as quickly as he could. Up ahead, the soft glow of lanterns illuminated the stone room.

  It would be guarded—if history was any indication.

  Janus took the quantum cube from his pocket and slowed his pace. He could see it now, the Ark, lying at the end of the chamber. Amazing. It was just as it had been.

  Two guards pivoted from behind the stone walls, blocking his path.

  Janus activated the cube, flooding the area with blinding light. He adjusted it, turning it higher.

  The men collapsed, and he heard more bodies hit the stone floor inside the room.

  He stepped across the threshold and surveyed the scene. Perhaps six heavily armed European soldiers and someone else—an adolescent Asian wearing a ceremonial robe.

  Janus stepped to the Ark and peered down.

  There he was. The first. They had kept him. Told his story. After all these years. They were a remarkable species. They had exceeded all his expectations. It still didn’t change what had to be done. He told himself that he had no choice.

  He took hold of the alpha’s femur bone, lifted it, and swung it violently against the wall of the stone box.

  A small metallic chip fell out, then disappeared under the rain of gray dust that covered it.

  Janus brushed it aside, then reached in, searching for the chip.

  It had taken months to find it. It was the last piece. When it was gone…

  He held it up to the light, glancing at the technology he and his partner had embedded almost seventy thousand years ago. The small radiation beacon had enabled them to make changes to the human genome for tens of thousands of years. Each time they programmed a new radiation regimen, it altered the genome of humans within the beacon’s range, adjusting the course of humanity. The device was old now, and its power source was almost spent, reducing its range considerably. Janus had wondered if he could find it. But in the face of the current plague, it had performed as planned, running its emergency program, activating the Atlantis Gene, saving those who flocked to be near it. It was a shame so many had to die for Janus to find it. But without the device, nothing stood in the way of the final genetic transformation he had already unleashed. He tossed the chip into the box and crushed it.

  Behind him, he heard footsteps stop abruptly. Janus turned to find David Vale standing in the opening of the chamber, holding one of the primitive weapons that shot hardened elemental projectiles.

  Janus reached for the quantum cube.

  “Don’t, Janus. I swear to God, I will shoot you.”

  “Now, Mr. Vale. That’s no way to treat someone who saved your life.”

  CHAPTER 88

  CDC

  Atlanta, Georgia

  Paul Brenner walked to the Symphony control room. The feeling around the room was jubilation. Two flashing words on the center screen read:

  ONE RESULT

  They had a new gene therapy for the Atlantis Plague. A new hope.

  “Do it,” Paul said. “Deploy it across all the districts. Upload the data to all our affiliates.”

  He raced down the hall and burst into his nephew’s hospital room.

  The boy lay still. He didn’t turn to face Paul. He was only semi-conscious.

  But there was still time, Paul thought.

  At the lobby that led to the Catacombs of St. Paul, Kate Warner leaned back from the table, wondering what else she could do.

  The figure that flew out of the tunnel was a blur. Kate spun, but it was too fast. It bowled Kamau out of the chair. The assault rifle clanged to the ground as the two figures rolled across the floor, into one of the museum’s glass display cases. Kamau struck the figure, but Kate could see that he was disoriented, blind, bewildered. He would never make it.

  Kate staggered forward and raised the handgun.

  They writhed violently on the ground. Kate tried to get a lock on the other figure. Some part of her knew it was Shaw, but she didn’t want it to be true. She’d suffered betrayal by someone she’d trusted once before; she’d sworn she wouldn’t let that happen again. Shaw had saved her in Marbella. But…

  The figure rose from Kamau, a knife in his hand. Blood flowed out onto the white marble floor. Kamau twitched a few times, then came to rest.

  The figure turned to face Kate.

  Shaw.

  Kate squeezed the trigger. Nothing happened.

  The gun felt like a solid block of steel. Why didn’t it fire? She glanced at it, but Shaw was upon her. He snatched the gun out of her hand.

  “It’s not in you, Kate. Be glad of that. The safety saved you more than it did me.”

  The door across the lobby opened. Dorian Sloane strolled through it. The four men that followed him ran in, taking up positions around the lobby, two flanking the entrance to the tunnel.

  “Where the hell have you been?” Shaw demanded.

  “Relax,” Dorian said casually. “Car trouble.” He scanned the room. “Vale?”

  “In the tunnels,” Shaw said.

  Dorian nodded to the soldiers flanking the entrance.

  “No,” Shaw said. “There’s only one way out.” He took a small box from his pocket and clicked a button. Eruptions echoed from the tunnels, like rolling thunder growing closer. He looked up at Dorian. “Make that no way out.”

  Dorian smiled. “It’s good to see you, little brother.”

  David heard the explosions before he felt them at his back. The ceiling was coming down.

  He could see Milo in his peripheral vision, lying there, lifeless. He dove for the boy, covering his body with his own.

  The stones fell around him and on him. It was like before, twelve years ago, in New York, on that day—when she had died, when he had rushed in, when the buildings had collapsed, burying him.

  But this was different. He was saving a life—Milo’s.

  The stone fell around him, echoing in his ear. Milo’s body felt so fragile under his. Would Milo survive?

  Another stone slammed into David’s body and he winced. And another—into his leg. The pain was complete, but he didn’t move. He remained, waiting for the end.

  It came, but it was not what he expected. A dome of light, covering him, arching over, blocking the falling rock. Still, David didn’t move.

  Kate glared at Dorian. “I won’t help you. We already have a cure.”

  Dorian’s smile grew, like someone who knew a secret. “Oh, Kate, you don’t disappoint. I could care less about a cure. I’m here for the code in your head.”

  “I don’t have—”

  “You will. You will remember, and then we’ll have what we need.”

  One of Dorian’s men grabbed her and dragged her out of the museum lobby.

  CHAPTER 89

  St. Paul’s Catacombs

  Rabat, Malta

  David felt a hand grip his shoulder and roll him over. The stone room was dark and quiet now. He still couldn’t see a thing.

  Slowly, a yellow glow expanded out into the room.

  The figure seemed to be lighting the room from the palm of his hand. He cupped something—a tiny cube that sparkled.

  David stared into the face. Janus. He had shielded David from the falling stone with the cube.

  “Who the hell are you?” David said, his voice hoarse.

  “Language, Mr. Vale.”

  “Seriously?”

&n
bsp; Janus stood and spoke quietly. “I am one of two scientists who came here a very long time ago to study the hominins on this planet.”

  David coughed. “An Atlantean.”

  “What you call an Atlantean, yes.”

  David studied Janus’s face. Yes, he knew it. He had seen Janus before. In Antarctica, days ago, when David had been in the tube, he had seen that face starting at him at the end of the chamber. Then the face had disappeared. “It was you—in Antarctica.”

  “Yes, though not in person. What you saw in Antarctica was my avatar, a remotely controlled representation of me.”

  David sat up. “You saved me. Why?”

  “I’m afraid I need to be going, Mr. Vale.”

  “Wait.” David stood and glanced at the rifle, considering whether to pick it up. No. Janus had incapacitated the soldiers with the cube. He could do the same to David. And Janus had saved his life—twice now. “The cure you sent to Continuity. It’s a fake, isn’t it?”

  “It is quite real—”

  “Does it cure us?”

  “It cures what ails humanity.”

  David didn’t like the sound of that, or Janus’s demeanor, which said: this conversation is over.

  Janus focused on the cube in the palm of his hand. He stuck his other hand into the light that radiated outward from the cube and began wiggling his fingers. It was as if he was programming it.

  David considered his situation. Someone had planted bombs and set them off down here; it wasn’t a bomb from above. During World War II, the Germans and Italians had dropped countless bombs on these catacombs and had not brought them down. Shaw. He closed the catacombs. And he would have Kate. Had he already delivered her to Dorian?

  “Shaw has Kate,” David said.

  “Yes, I imagine so.” Janus said, not looking up.

  “She has your partner’s memories.”

  “What?” Shock spread across Janus’s face—the first emotion David had seen him display.

  “The memories started coming several days ago, first in her dreams, then when she was awake, as if she couldn’t stop them.”