Andy McDermott - The Tomb Of Hercules

“Perfectly. Whatever Sophia’s doing in the Bahamas, I’m sure it isn’t to work on her tan.”

“She tried to kill Mac,” Chase reminded him. “Nearly succeeded, as well.”

Alderley scratched his mustache, thinking. “If it wasn’t for Mac, I wouldn’t even be considering this,” he said at last. “But I’ll see what I can do. I don’t know how much that’ll be, though.”

“Well, Mac managed to get me a fake passport, plane tickets and a wad of cash in about four hours flat, and he wasn’t even a full-time member of MI6, just a consultant,” Chase remarked.

“I get the point,” said Alderley, looking mildly stung. “But you’re seriously going to owe me for this, Chase. And if anything goes wrong, I’ll just say that you forced me into it somehow. I’m sure they’re more likely to believe me than the people who assassinated the Botswanan minister of trade.”

“We didn’t!” Nina moaned.

Chase shrugged. “Just sort things out for us, and I’ll get you all the Ford Capri parts you’ll ever need.”

Alderley actually smiled. “I might hold you to that, Chase. They’re surprisingly expensive these days… All right, I’ll do what I can. But you won’t be able to fly out until tomorrow no matter what I do, so you’ll have to spend the night here. Oh, and that sofa is the only spare bed in the place, so make yourselves comfortable.”

“I’m disappointed in you,” said Chase with a crooked grin. “You’re going to make a lady sleep on the settee while your own bed’s going empty? You’ll be in here for a while yet fixing everything up.”

Beaten, Alderley gestured at a door in the office’s back wall. “All right, Dr. Wilde, my bed’s through there.”

“Thank you,” Nina said, smiling as she stood.

He seemed mollified by her gratitude, though his expression changed when Chase stood up as well. “And where do you think you’re going?”

“Like I said,” Chase told him, grinning again, “you’re going to be working for a while yet. And me and my girlfriend need to make up for lost time.” He put his arms around Nina’s waist.

She brushed him off. “He’s just kidding,” she assured the mortified Alderley.

“Yeah, right,” said Chase, trying to take hold of her again.

“No, really! This isn’t the right time or place.”

“It couldn’t be a better time!”

“Eddie! Besides, Mr. Alderley might need to ask you more questions.”

“Oh, all bloody right,” Chase said, returning to the sofa and trying to ignore Alderley’s smug look. “So what is the right time?”

“Let’s see-how about after we’ve cleared our names, found the bomb, caught Sophia and stopped whatever the hell insane plan she’s trying to carry out?”

Chase cracked his knuckles and smiled wolfishly at Nina. “Always good to have an incentive.”

“So,” she said, “when we get to the Bahamas, do you have any lady friends there who can help us?”

“I’ve got a friend,” he told her. “Not one I want to see in a miniskirt, mind…”

Matt Trulli leaned back on his bar stool and regarded Chase and Nina uncertainly. “So… you’re telling me that my billionaire boss was actually some kind of crackpot megalomaniac?”

Chase nodded. “Afraid so,” said Nina. “Aw, what?” Trulli said in dismay, taking a gulp from his drink. “Two for two?”

“Maybe you should come and work for the IHA,” Nina suggested. “The pay might not be as good, but I don’t think any world domination plots have ever come up in meetings.”

“And he’s dead now?” Trulli asked.

“Yeah,” said Chase. “My ex-wife shot him in the back.”

“Wow. Good job you never pissed her off that much, mate.”

“Oh she’ll be plenty pissed when she realizes we’re not dead,” said Nina. “And even more so when we find her nuke.”

Trulli almost choked on his lager. “Nuke?” he gasped.

“Keep it down,” Chase said in a warning tone, glancing around the bar. Fortunately, none of the evening patrons were taking any interest in them. “Yeah, she’s got a nuke. So now we need to find her, so we can find it . Any idea where she might be?”

“We think she might be at Corvus’s house,” Nina added.

Trulli smiled. “Well, I know where that is!”

“You’ve been there?”

“I built it! It’s the test bed for an underwater habitat-it was what René hired me for. He wanted a scalable, modular underwater habitat that could work at least thirty meters deep. Well, that kind of thing’s been at the back of every marine engineer’s mind ever since he drew his first submarine in crayon as a kid, you know? And it was a no-expense-spared deal that he wanted done as soon as possible, so I got right down to it, no worries. We had the prototype built and working within a year.” His pride became more tempered. “Mind you, if I’d realized what he wanted it for, I might not have been in such a rush.”

“I need to get inside it,” Chase said. “Soon. As in tonight. Can you help us?”

Trulli made a pained face. “Your ex-missus doesn’t sound like the kind of girl who cares about experimental submarines, so whatever happens I’m probably out of a job. And I don’t really like the idea of nukes going off, so…” He took a quick gulp from his drink. “Sure. What do you need?”

“A boat, and scuba gear. And a way inside that thing.” Trulli smiled. “Got all three, mate.”

Trulli’s boat was a far cry from Corvus’s cruiser when it came to size and luxury, but the Australian’s fifteen-foot motor launch took them from one of the quays of Marsh Harbour up the coast of the island of Grand Abaco efficiently enough.

The habitat was two miles offshore, a man-made island among the myriad natural ones of the Bahamas. Like an iceberg, most of it was underwater, the section rising above the surface resembling a high-tech mushroom. Its brightly spotlit top was flattened to serve as a landing pad for helicopters-or, as Chase saw through a pair of binoculars, more exotic aircraft. “Well, bugger me.”

Nina tapped his arm, wanting to see for herself. He gave her the binoculars. “What is that thing?” she asked.

“Tilt-rotor,” said Chase. Hunched over the pad was a Bell 609 in Corvus’s blue and red corporate livery. Although its fuselage looked like a regular plane’s, the resemblance ended at the wings. On each wing tip was a bulbous pivoting engine nacelle, at the moment in the vertical position, above which rose an almost comically oversized propeller. “Civie version of the Osprey, like a cross between a plane and a chopper. The props point up so it can do vertical takeoffs and landings, then when it’s in the air they tip forward so it can fly like a regular plane.”

Nina handed the binoculars back to him. “Well, if it’s there, presumably Sophia is too. Question is, for how long?”

“Weeks, if she wanted,” Trulli told her. “It’s got its own generators-wind and wave power that we were testing, plus diesels-and water purifiers. She could stay there for as long as she’s got food.”

“I don’t think she’s planning on staying long,” said Chase, tightening the harness of the Aqua-Lung. “Whatever she’s doing, she wants to do it soon.”

“You sure?” Nina asked.

“I was married to her. I know when she wants to get something over with.” Nina and Trulli shared a suggestive look, then laughed. “No, not like that, you cheeky bastards!” But Chase was smiling himself, at least until he looked ahead. His expression became entirely serious as he watched the distant habitat.

Nina sat beside him. “Are you okay?”