John Sneeden - The Hades Conspiracy

He turned back toward the surface. The others were expecting him. It was time to take care of one last problem. Unfortunately, it would be the most difficult task yet.

Camilla leaned back against the hood of a Humvee, shivering in the cold. The snow no longer fell, but the temperatures continued to drop. She guessed it was at least mid-twenties now.

She looked toward the cave mouth about fifty yards away. Roger should be coming out soon. He and the others had stayed behind to ambush the Americans and the Swiss Guard. This time, he’d promised not to play games. This time, he’d kill them then cast them all into a chasm one of the men had located. According to the guard, it was at least a mile deep.

Hearing footsteps behind her, Camilla turned and saw Kimberly coming toward her. She’d been helping the guards put a few things in one of the vans. As she drew near, Camilla noted the redhead’s toned legs. The guards had been staring at them all night. Camilla felt a pinch of jealousy as she thought about the woman’s attractiveness. A part of her didn’t like having such a beautiful woman around Roger, but at the same time, she realized Kimberly was invaluable to the business. She was smart, strong, and ferociously loyal.

Besides, Camilla had no reason to worry about her marriage. A man as handsome and wealthy as Roger Lawson could have anyone he wanted, and he had chosen her. In fact, she found it deeply touching that he was so strongly attracted to her unique appearance.

“Is that everything?” Camilla asked Kimberly.

“Just about. I need to gather a few more things inside.”

Camilla’s eyes narrowed. She’d picked up something odd in Kimberly’s expression, a brief flash of nervousness. Camilla had never seen that in her before. Fear and nerves were foreign to Kimberly’s constitution. Then again, they had been through a lot tonight. A lot of people had died, including a number of innocents. That was enough to rattle even the strongest person.

Still, Camilla couldn’t help suspecting there was something else. She pushed off the hood. “Let’s go see if Roger has come up yet.”

The two moved off in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. After they skirted the line of trees, Camilla saw a figure emerge from the cave mouth. Roger . As they drew near, she looked into his eyes, trying to read his expression. Strangely, he too seemed nervous.

“Is it done?” Camilla asked.

Roger glanced briefly at Kimberly before facing his wife. “Yes, it’s done.”

“I need to grab a few things.” Kimberly continued toward the cave.

Roger watched her walk away. After she disappeared into the tunnel, he looked down at Camilla. “A few more hours and this will all be over.”

“Your plan was masterful, darling.” Camilla looked into his eyes.

Roger bent and lifted her in the air. She loved it when he did that. Warmed by his embrace, he pressed her lips against his. Roger kissed her for a moment then pulled back. The kiss was too short. Camilla opened her eyes to find Roger staring at her. She frowned. She’d expected a look of longing. Instead, she saw an empty gaze, devoid of emotion.

Camilla felt one of his arms fall away while the other held her aloft. “Roger, what’s the matter?”

His expression darkened.

Camilla pulled back. “Roger? Did something happen inside? What’s—”

A muffled gunshot cut her off.

“Easy.” Roger kissed her forehead. “Just let go.”

Camilla felt as if a hot poker had been thrust into her abdomen.

“Why…” she struggled to speak.

Roger held her gaze, waiting patiently for her to die. For the first time ever, Camilla realized just how dark the man’s soul was. She also realized something else.

Roger and Kimberly were lovers.

The coal-black Maserati GranTurismo roared up the mountain, its headlights gleaming in the darkness like the eyes of a dragon. The car moved gracefully back and forth through the turns, comfortable on the winding roads of Sicily. Roger Lawson glanced down the slope. The lights of Palermo twinkled like jewels along the shore of the Tyrrhenian Sea. The view never got old.

Lowering the window slightly, he filled his lungs with fresh Mediterranean air. Life couldn’t be better. Yes, Camilla’s murder still haunted him on occasion, but he’d had no interest in hiding his relationship with Kimberly any longer. He was going to spend the rest of his life with her, and there wasn’t room for two women. Besides, if he hadn’t killed Camilla, she surely would’ve killed him.

Four days had passed since they’d sealed the cave entrance. That meant those inside had long since perished, either from a lack of oxygen or dehydration. Roger had seen some of the giant rats slinking around in the shadows. They probably got to them before the oxygen ran out.

After sanitizing the site, Roger had driven to Haifa and boarded his yacht. From there, he’d sailed to Croatia, where he had hidden at a close friend’s house, far away from the prying eyes of intelligence agencies. He hated leaving Kimberly behind, but she and the security team had important business to take care of. After gathering a number of important items from Roger’s home in Jerusalem, they eliminated several “problem” people who knew about the operation.

In the meantime, Roger had contacted a source in Israeli intelligence, who’d confirmed an investigation was already underway. As it turned out, the Swiss Guard and U.S. government had sent a joint investigative team to Tel Aviv in the wake of the events on Mount Hermon. They confessed their sins to the Israelis but justified their operation by pointing to all the lives that would’ve been lost had they not moved quickly. The Israelis protested vigorously but eventually agreed to work with their allies.

With a detente now in place, representatives from both countries scoured the slopes of Mount Hermon, looking for any signs of the missing operatives. According to the mole, the whole search was a complete flop. One of the teams found a few odd tire tracks, which couldn’t be traced to any registered vehicle. Another found water bottles and assorted trash among one of the many ruins on the mountain, but authorities traced the items to teenagers who frequented the area.

Roger assumed his home outside Jerusalem had been turned upside down, but at this point, it didn’t matter. After arriving in Croatia, he’d assumed an alternate identity he’d cultivated for the better part of two decades. Under that alias, he held bank accounts, boats, cars, and real estate in Australia, Sicily, and the United Kingdom. Switching to his new identity meant he would have to forgo a number of valuable assets, but it would be worth it in order to maintain his freedom.

Roger slowed the Maserati. Two stone pillars flanked the entrance to his villa. He pressed a button on the center console, and the iron gates swung inward. He followed the paved drive to a white stucco villa near the mountain’s peak.

After getting out, he retrieved a single piece of luggage from the trunk. It was all he’d brought with him. Everything else he needed was inside, including the most important thing of all — a stiff drink.

The house’s interior was pitch black. After flicking on a light, he turned to the security panel on the wall right inside the door. He was about to enter the code then stopped. The unit’s lights were dark. He leaned closer. The entire system had been turned off. He frowned. The maids must have forgotten to reset the system when they left. It wasn’t the first time this had happened. He made a mental note to speak to them about it later and turned the system back on.