“Thank you,” said Chase as the applause began again. When it became clear that he wasn’t going to add anything else, the sound quickly died down. This time, only a single picture was taken: unlike the photos of Nina, which would be attached to a press release and sent out to news agencies worldwide within the hour, this was solely for the White House’s official records. Dalton’s slight turn away from Chase acted as an unspoken signal that the formal part of the presentation was over, and the audience stood, the politicians quickly seizing the opportunity to approach the president.
“So, that was your big speech?” Chase said quietly to Nina. “Thought it was going to be all about the wonder of great treasures from the past.”
Nina’s face screwed up at the reminder. “Don’t start. God, I was so nervous. You’re lucky I managed anything more coherent than ‘Duuuhhh …’”
Amoros stepped up to them. “Well, congratulations, to both of you. Eddie, are you sure you don’t want any kind of recognition? I’m certain something could have been arranged.”
“That’s okay,” said Chase firmly. “I’ve pissed off a lot of people over the years—last thing I need is to remind them that I shot their scumbag brother or whatever by getting a medal.” He looked down at Nina’s neck. “Speaking of which, that suits you. You should wear it at the airport, see if it gets us a free upgrade to first class.” Nina gave him a sarcastic smile.
“You’re still rushing off to England tonight?” Amoros asked.
Chase nodded. “Wednesday, meet the president of the United States at the White House. Thursday, meet my nan for tea and biscuits in Bournemouth. Not quite in the same league.”
“We’ve been engaged for nearly a year,” said Nina. “We thought it was time I met Eddie’s family.”
“You thought it was time,” Chase said pointedly.
Nina held back her response as Dalton joined them, hangers-on moving into position around him. “So, Dr. Wilde. You found Atlantis and the Tomb of Hercules—what’s next on your agenda? Discovering the Temple of Solomon, or maybe Noah’s Ark?” He finished the sentence with a small chuckle.
Nina didn’t laugh. “Actually, my current project for the IHA goes back much further than anything I’ve done before—before Atlantis, even. What I’m trying to do is take advantage of the IHA’s access to worldwide archaeological and anthropological data to track the spread of humanity around the world in prehistory.” The words came out faster as her enthusiasm mounted. “The general pattern of the expansion of mankind out of Africa across Asia and Australia, and then later into the Americas and Europe, is pretty well established. The lowering of sea levels during ice ages allowed ancient humans to travel overland and settle in places that are now underwater—there’s a very promising site in Indonesia that we’re planning to explore later in the year.”
“I can’t wait,” said Chase. “It’ll be great to finally get out of the office and see some action!”
“Careful what you wish for,” Nina joked. “But my goal is to pinpoint the exact origin of humanity; the cradle of civilization, so to speak.”
Dalton raised an eyebrow. “Sounds to me like you’re looking for the Garden of Eden.”
“You could say that, yes. Although not in the Adam and Eve, talking snake sense. Actually finding the place where Homo sapiens branched off from other ancient hominids won’t make the creationists happy!” She realized that Dalton had tensed slightly, and Amoros cleared his throat in a tone of soft but definite warning. “Oh, God, sorry, they’re part of your—your ‘base,’ aren’t they? Sorry.”
“That’s okay,” said Dalton, smiling thinly. “My base is broader than just the creationist wing, fortunately. Why, some of my supporters even believe the earth revolves around the sun!” He forced a laugh, his entourage joining in; after a moment, Nina followed suit in a mixture of embarrassment and relief. “It all sounds fascinating, Dr. Wilde. Although it’ll be a tall order to top discovering Atlantis and the Tomb of Hercules—and both before you were thirty! You turned thirty just recently, am I right?”
“Yeah, I did,” said Nina, not happy to be reminded of the fact.
“Well, I’m sure you’ve still got time for plenty more accomplishments!” Dalton laughed again, as did Nina, though this time it was her turn to force it.
He was about to turn away when Chase spoke. “’Scuse me, Mr. President. Can I ask you about something? Sort of in private?” He tipped his head to indicate a spot a few feet away from the rest of the group.
Dalton exchanged looks with his staff, then smiled and stepped over, the ever-present Secret Service agents watching from the side of the room. “Of course. What can I do for you, Mr. Chase?”
“I wanted to ask what’s going on with Sophia.”
“You mean Sophia Blackwood?”
Chase very nearly replied, “No, Sophia Loren,” but managed to hold back the sarcastic retort. The former Lady Blackwood—the UK parliament had recently stripped her of her title in absentia—was Chase’s ex-wife … and also the mastermind behind the planned act of nuclear terrorism that he and Nina had just barely foiled. “Yeah. Last I heard, she’d been moved to Guantánamo Bay. When’re you going to put her on trial?”
“She was moved to Guantánamo for her own safety,” Dalton answered. “If we put her in the normal prison system, she’d be dead long before we could hold a trial.”
“It’d save all those lawyers’ fees. We all know she’s guilty, and you’re going to execute her anyway, right?”
Dalton gave him a cold smile. “I have faith in the justice system to do the right thing.”
“Glad to hear it.” Chase extended his hand. “Thank you, Mr. President.”
“Thank you, Mr. Chase.” The president shook the offered hand, then raised his voice. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to take care of a small difference of opinion with our Russian friends. The USS George Washington is already on station, but hopefully a second carrier group will help make our point.” The muted laughter the comment provoked was very much of the dark kind: the ongoing disagreement between the West and Russia over the extension of the latter’s territorial claims in the Arctic had taken an ominous turn just a few days earlier, when Russian warships forced an American survey vessel out of the disputed waters at gunpoint. “Dr. Wilde, Mr. Chase—and Hector,” Dalton added, nodding to Amoros, “thank you.”
With that, Nina, Chase and Amoros left the Oval Office, a young aide escorting them through the White House corridors. “Thought that went okay,” said Chase. “Well, my bits did, anyway.”
Nina ground a fist against her forehead. “Oh, God! I can’t believe I made an ass of myself in front of the president!”
“Twice in two minutes, an’ all,” Chase commented.
“Not helping!”
“Don’t worry about it, Nina,” Amoros said reassuringly. “You did fine.”
Chase waved a thumb at the medal around her neck. “And you got a nice piece of bling out of it.”
“Eddie,” Amoros chided, “the Presidential Medal of Freedom is not ‘bling!’”
Nina felt mildly affronted as well. “Yeah, come on, Eddie. I wouldn’t make fun of you if you got a medal from the queen.”
“Who says I haven’t?” Chase replied.
Nina regarded him suspiciously. Even after having known him for over two years, she still wasn’t quite able to tell whether he was being serious or, as he called it on the frequent occasions when he was doing so, “taking the piss.” “Nah,” she said at last. “If you’d really got a medal from the queen, you’d have told me by now. Even you couldn’t keep that a secret.”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself. I’ve got medals, though. I just don’t make a big deal about them. They’re in a box somewhere.”
“Well, maybe you can dig them out and show them to me when we get home. We’ve got time before the flight.”
Chase grinned. “I didn’t say the box was here, did I?” He flicked Nina’s medal, making a faint metallic ting.
“I think you should wear that on the train back to New York. See if anyone recognizes you.”
• • •
Nina was indeed recognized on the Acela high-speed train to Penn Station, but it wasn’t because of the medal, which she had returned to its presentation case before leaving the White House.
The discovery of Atlantis had not taken place under ideal conditions—the backer of Nina’s expedition had ulterior, genocidal motives. So the Western nations behind the founding of the International Heritage Agency, under the auspices of the United Nations, had in large part set up the organization in order to devise a much more innocuous cover story.
Such a story had finally been agreed upon, and a carefully staged program of media coverage arranged to reveal it to the public, with Nina, fittingly enough, at its head. As a result, she had recently been doing the publicity rounds in newspapers, magazines and even TV—hence her being spotted by a man who asked for her autograph. “Bit more of this,” said Chase as they left the train, “and you’ll be in all the tabloids.”
“God, no! I don’t want that much recognition,” Nina moaned. Though she had to admit, being recognized by a complete stranger was a flattering, if bizarre, experience. “It’s not like I’m a movie star.”
“You’re a star to me, love,” said Chase, putting a hand around her waist before casually sliding it down to grope her butt. She bumped her hip against his to push him back as a reminder that they were still in public. “So if they made a film about our lives, who do you reckon’d play us? Shame Cary Grant’s dead; he’d be perfect for me.”
Nina gave the squat, balding, broken-nosed Englishman a sidelong look. “Riiiight,” she said, running a hand through his close-cropped hair. “You just keep on dreaming.”
While Chase returned to their apartment to finish packing, Nina took a cab to the United Nations building on the bank of the East River. She rode the elevator up through the tall Secretariat Building and made her way to the IHA’s offices.
“Dr. Wilde!” said Lola Gianetti, standing up from her post at the reception desk to greet her. “I didn’t expect to see you here today. How was the White House? Did you meet the president?”
“I did.” Lola let out a muffled squeak of excitement. “And I’m sure I made an ass of myself, but Hector told me not to worry about it, so it can’t have been that bad.” She turned for her office. “Sorry, I can’t hang around—I promised Eddie I’d be quick. If we miss the flight, he’ll …” She considered it. “Huh. He probably wouldn’t be too bothered, actually.”
“You’re meeting his family in England, aren’t you? Good luck with that. The first time I met my boyfriend’s family, I was petrified. His mom hated me!”
“Yeah, thanks for that, Lola,” said Nina with a pained smile as she walked away.
It only took a few minutes to copy the files she wanted from her computer onto a flash drive, and a couple of phone calls reassured her that the IHA operations she was overseeing would be in safe hands for the few days she was away. Gathering up her notes, she left her office—only to encounter an unexpected face in the corridor.
“Matt!” she exclaimed. “How are you?”
“Fine, thanks!” replied Matt Trulli, giving her a hug. The spike-haired, slightly overweight Australian submarine designer had helped Nina on her previous adventures, risking his own life to do so, and on her recommendation had decided to accept a somewhat quieter job at one of the IHA’s sister agencies. Nina still wasn’t used to seeing him in a suit, although he retained some vestiges of his old beach-bum look—today his shirt had three open buttons and his tie’s knot was about level with his heart. “You and Eddie just got given the keys to the country. Nice one!”
“Thanks. What’re you doing here? I thought you were in Australia with UNARA.” The United Nations Antarctic Research Agency was gearing up to explore the unique ecosystems of the prehistoric lakes beneath the ice sheets of the South Pole.
“Nah, got a while yet. We’re waiting for winter to finish down there. I’ve been on a bit of a world tour, though—came up from the UNARA office to tell your sub guys about my trip to Russia. The Russians are the experts at getting subs to work under ice, so I picked up a few pointers. Handy being an Aussie—if I’d been a Yank, they probably wouldn’t even have let me into the country, the way things are at the moment. Even got to go aboard one of their nuclear missile boats. Pretty cool, in a terrifying this-could-blow-up-the-world sort of way.”
“Let’s hope that doesn’t actually happen.”
“Too right.” Trulli looked toward Nina’s office. “Is Eddie around?”
“No, he’s at home. We’re flying to England later.”
“Oh, meeting his family?” Nina nodded. Trulli pursed his lips. “Good luck with that! This girl I was once seeing? Going fine, until I met her family. They couldn’t stand me!”
“Thanks for the reassurance, Matt!” said Nina in not-entirely-mock despair. “Anyway, I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go. We’ll catch up properly when I get back.”
“Will do,” Trulli said as she walked away. “Oh, and don’t worry about the meet-the-family thing. It’ll be fine, probably!”
“Thanks again, Matt!” Nina replied through her teeth as she entered the reception area.
“Dr. Wilde,” called Lola as she passed. “I just remembered there’s some mail for you. What do you want me to do with it?”
Nina paused at the door. “Is there anything important?”
“Memos, mostly. Nothing urgent. Oh, and some stuff for the crank file.”
“Great,” Nina sighed. Since becoming the public face of the IHA, she had, to her annoyance, also become the locus for seemingly every crackpot on the planet with a theory about UFOs, lost civilizations, sea monsters, psychic powers … “Maybe I should take something to read on the plane in case I need a laugh. Anything good?”
“The usual. Crystals and black helicopters and pyramid power—oh, and someone who says he knew your parents.”
Nina felt an unpleasant twinge in her stomach: her parents had died twelve years earlier, murdered while on their own quest to find Atlantis. If some crank was just using them to get her attention … “What’s his name?”
“Bernard somebody. Hold on, I’ve got it here …”
“Bernd?” Nina asked, suddenly intrigued. Maybe it wasn’t a crank after all. “Bernd Rust?”
“Yes, that’s right,” Lola replied, surprised, as she plucked a padded envelope from a sorting tray. “You know him?”
“Only vaguely—but he was a friend of my parents.” Nina took the envelope, opening it to find a DVD in a plastic case and a single sheet of paper. She unfolded it and read the crisp handwriting.
Dear Nina,
Firstly, I hope you still remember me—it is some time since we last met, at the memorial service for Henry and Laura. Even though it has been over a decade, their loss is still felt, as they were both good friends of mine.
It is vital that we meet in person to discuss the contents of the enclosed disc. Please contact me when you receive this. It is a matter of extreme importance, and it concerns your parents.
Bernd Rust
A telephone number was written at the bottom of the page, but there was no address. Nina checked the envelope. It had been sent by airmail within the last few days, and the postmark appeared to be German.
For a moment she considered returning to her office to examine the disc’s contents on her computer, but a glance at her watch deterred her. Besides, she was taking her laptop; she could check the disc on the flight.
It concerns your parents. What had Rust found? The German was a historian, Nina remembered, and she had learned years after the fact that her parents’ doomed expedition had relied upon secret Nazi documents to follow the trail to Atlantis. Had Rust been the one who provided the papers?
“Are you okay? Nina?”
She blinked at Lola’s question. Then she hurriedly stuffed the disc and letter back into the envelope. “Fine, th
anks. Just … yeah, I know him, just haven’t spoken to him for a long time.” The blond receptionist still seemed concerned. “It’s fine, Lola, really. I’ll have a look at it on the plane. And speaking of which,” she went on, glad of the conversational segue, “I’ve got to get going. I’ll see you when I get back.”
“Good luck with the family!” Lola called after her.
This time, Nina didn’t react. She had something else to concern her.
• • •
Chase tilted back the seat as far as it would go, then stretched out with a contented sigh. “Ah, this is more like it. But I bet if you’d worn that medal at the check-in desk, we would have been upgraded to first class.”
“I’ve got a gift horse here,” Nina said mockingly. “You wanna look in its mouth?” As far as she was concerned, business class was more than a good enough free upgrade from their original economy tickets—though she had to admit that when the woman at the counter recognized her and offered to upgrade their seating, the luxuries of first class had been what sprang to mind.
“Neigh, lass. I’m just going to get some kip. I don’t want to get straight into a hire car after only having two hours’ sleep on a transatlantic flight.”
“Well, I’m not tired yet.” They were under half an hour into the overnight flight, and Nina was still very much on New York time. “Can you get my bag down?”
Chase grunted. “Great. First you demand the window seat, now you’re going to make me get up and down the whole flight.” But he stood and opened the overhead locker, handing Nina her carry-on bag. She took out her MacBook Pro and the envelope containing Rust’s letter and disc, then handed the bag back to Chase.
“If you wake me up five minutes after I fall asleep to go to the loo,” he grumbled as he shoved it back into the locker, “I’m going to chuck you out of the emergency exit.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve gone out of a plane without a parachute, would it?” They shared a smile, then Chase returned to his seat as Nina opened her laptop and inserted the disc. After a few seconds it appeared on the desktop. She copied the single file on the disc to her hard drive, then double-clicked it … but to her surprise was presented with a password prompt.