John Sneeden - The Hades Conspiracy

Carmen broke the silence. “That’s it? ‘I think you now have enough information to find it’ ?”

“That was strange,” Amanda said. “No doubt about it. It’s almost as if the video was spliced, like there was something missing.”

Zane sat back and tried to make sense of what he’d just heard. Did Pauling mean Rust would recognize the location? Perhaps, although that would be odd since the two hadn’t had much contact since Pauling moved to Venice.

“Play it again,” Carmen said. “Maybe we missed something.”

Amanda played the file a third time. As Zane watched, he didn’t see or hear anything he hadn’t noticed before. The odd pause at the end seemed to be suggestive of something, but he had no idea what.

Carmen leaned forward, her brows knit together tightly. “Play it again.”

“Did you see something?” Zane asked.

Carmen ignored his question. “And pause it when I tell you to.”

Amanda played the video a fourth time. After the odd pause at the end, Carmen raised her hand. “Now!”

Amanda paused the video.

“What are you looking at?” Zane asked.

“Now, back it up just a little, and play it again,” Carmen said.

Amanda did as she was told. As the video played, Carmen pointed at the screen. “There!” She looked at Zane. “Did you see it?”

Zane shook his head. He had no idea what she was talking about. There seemed to be something unusual about Pauling’s expression, but that was it. Maybe he was looking at something off camera. But what?

Carmen turned to Amanda. “Go back one more time, and when he moves his eyes there at the end, hit pause.”

Amanda rewound a bit then hit pause at the appropriate time. A smile spread over Carmen’s face. She tapped the screen and looked at Zane. “See it?”

Zane narrowed his eyes, focusing on the bottom of the screen. Something was printed there in a tiny font. He leaned closer, and a series of numbers appeared. She was right. That was what Pauling was trying to communicate.

Carmen patted Zane’s leg. “Sorry, I had to focus on getting it right.”

“No, that’s fine.” Zane looked at Amanda. “Can you enlarge it?”

Amanda used her fingers to increase the image size. Zane frowned. What he thought was one long string of numbers was actually two sets of numbers, and the pattern was one he was quite familiar with. “I think I know what it is.”

Carmen turned toward him in surprise. “What is it?”

“They’re GPS coordinates.”

Emily swam up through the dark waters of her dreams. Her head broke the surface, allowing her a brief moment of consciousness. Men talked somewhere nearby. They seemed to be down a hallway, but she couldn’t be sure. Just as she began to hear the voices more clearly, she sank back beneath the waves. It was the third time she had surfaced, and for the third time, she had failed to break through.

After what seemed like an eternity, she found herself swimming toward the surface again. Light appeared above. The surface was almost in reach. She pushed, kicked, and stroked with all her strength. This time, she wouldn’t be denied. This time, she’d push through for good.

She opened her eyes. She could see. Was it real or just a dream? She twitched her nose then blinked several times. Everything seemed to be working. She was finally awake, and she resolved to never go back.

The space around her was mostly dark. The only light spilled in from a door or window behind her head. The stench of cigarettes and cooked meat filled the air. As her eyes adjusted, she noticed the room had beige walls covered with cracked paint. Probably an old apartment in Venice .

Emily tried to lift her head, but the room spun, forcing her back down. Someone drugged me . The words flashed in her mind. While her memory hadn’t fully returned, she instinctively knew the words were true. But who’d drugged her? And why had they brought her here?

After she lay still for several minutes, her mind sharpened a bit, and the events of the last few hours flashed through her mind. She remembered arriving at her father’s house, although she couldn’t remember when. She’d just begun to search the third floor when she heard someone downstairs. She remembered being caught by an intruder, a tall man with long hair and powerful hands.

Zane . That was his name. A strange feeling of comfort swept through her when she pictured his face. Even though she’d protested at the time, she remembered it wasn’t unpleasant when’d he pinned her arms on the floor. He was strong, but he was also someone who controlled his strength. She imagined the arms he used to fight were the same arms that could tenderly scoop a woman up.

More images came. Gunmen arriving at her father’s house, forcing them to flee. She remembered the chase that ended at the concert along the Grand Canal. At that point, the group had split up. Emily fled with the dark-haired woman whose name she couldn’t remember. At some point, they became separated. Then…

Emily’s heart pounded in her chest as she remembered hiding behind the boxes. She’d been convinced she was safe, only to feel a large hand close over her mouth and a gun press into her spine. After that, her memories grew foggy. She remembered a man — maybe two — dragging her down an alley. Eventually, they came to a canal where she was shoved into the bottom of a boat and hit over the head with a blunt object. She remembered awakening briefly in a chair, only to feel a sharp sting on her upper arm.

That’s where the memories ended.

A man laughed in the distance, bringing her back to the present. Another joined in the laughter, while a third said something in a foreign tongue. Distance muffled their voices. She guessed they were down a hallway or around a corner. She heard the familiar clink of chips being tossed onto a table. Poker. They’re playing poker.

Emily tried to get up. She rose slightly, only to realize her wrists were bound to the bed frame with rope. There was a bit of slack, so she was able to squirm around and finally get up on her knees. A headboard was directly in front of her, and there was a window to her left.

Sliding her legs carefully so as not to make the mattress squeak, Emily scooted closer to the window and peered through the glass. It was dark outside. She doubted she’d been out for twenty-four hours, so she assumed it was the same night she’d been abducted. She shifted her gaze downward. Moonlight glimmered off the waters of a narrow canal. Along the edge, several gondolas rocked gently in the choppy waters. Venice . She was still somewhere in the city. Lifting her eyes slightly, she studied the buildings on the other side of the canal. They looked much the same as they did everywhere in the city. That was the problem with Venice. Unless you were near one of the landmarks, it all looked pretty much the same. That was why a lot of tourists got lost.

Maybe if she could look in one direction or the other she might see something she recognized. The Grand Canal. The Bridge of Sighs. Anything. She lifted her right leg and leaned to the left. As she pressed her face against the glass, her left knee slid out from under her, sending her crashing onto the mattress. The old bed squeaked loudly, and she knew it would be heard throughout the house.

A chair pushed away from a table down the hall. Footsteps sounded in the hall outside her room. She froze. Someone was coming. Seconds later, the dark figure of a man appeared at the door. Seeing she was awake, he stepped into the room. He was bald, wore all black, and clutched a pistol in his right hand. Emily recognized him as one of the men who had chased them across the plaza.