Preston Child - Mystery of the Amber Room

“Good God!” Carrington said under his breath. “We have to get MI-6 involved, and — ”

“No,” Purdue interrupted him. “You cannot risk turning this into a huge public show, Mr. Carrington. If this leaks out, the Chancellor is dead before dusk. What we need to do is get someone to investigate the origin of the attacks.”

“What do they want from Germany?” Carrington fished.

“That part I do not know,” Gabi lamented, blowing her smoke up into the air. “What I do know is that it's a very wealthy organization with basically unlimited resources and what they want is nothing short of world domination.”

“And what do you suppose we do about this?” Carrington inquired, leaning on the banister to look at both Purdue and Gabi. The wind disturbed his thinning straight gray hair as he waited for a suggestion. “We cannot let anybody find out about this. If it becomes public, hysteria will spread all over Europe, and I am almost certain that would be the death sentence for your Chancellor.”

From the door, Carrington's secretary beckoned him to sign off on a visa discrepancy, leaving Purdue and Gabi in awkward silence. Each contemplated their role in this matter, even though it was none of their business. They were just two good citizens of the world, eager to help fight the dark souls who had brutally ended innocent lives for the pursuit of greed and power.

“Mr. Purdue, I hate to admit this,” she said, quickly glancing back to see if their host was still occupied. “But I was the one who arranged for your flight to be rerouted.”

“What?” Purdue uttered. His pale blue eyes were full of questions as he stared at the woman in astonishment. “Why would you do that?”

“I know who you are,” she said. “I knew you would not tolerate being turned away from Danish airspace, and I had some — let's call them associates — hack into the air traffic radio control to send you to Berlin. I knew I was going to be the person Mr. Carrington would call in on the matter. I had to meet you in an official capacity. People are watching, you see.”

“My God, Mrs. Holtzer,” Purdue frowned, looking at her with great concern. “You certainly went through a lot of trouble to speak to me, so what is it you want from me?”

“That Pulitzer-winning journalist, your companion on all your hunts,” she started.

“Sam Cleave?”

“Sam Cleave,” she repeated, relieved that he knew to whom she was referring. “He must look into the kidnapping and the attacks on the wealthy and powerful. He should be able to figure out what the hell they are after. I am not in a position to expose them.”

“But you know what's going on,” he said. She nodded as Carrington joined them again.

“So,” Carrington said, “have you told anyone else in your office about your ideas, Mrs. Holtzer?”

“I have archived some information, of course, but, you know,” she shrugged.

“Clever,” Carrington remarked, sounding deeply impressed.

Gabi added with conviction. “You know, I am not supposed to know anything at all, but I am not asleep. I tend to make things like this, things that would impact the well-being of the German people, and all others for that matter, my business.”

“That is very patriotic of you, Mrs. Holtzer,” Carrington said.

He pressed the barrel of the silencer against her jaw and blew her brains out before Purdue could blink. As Gabi's mutilated body fell over the banister from where Carrington had flung her, Purdue was promptly overpowered by two embassy bodyguards who knocked him unconscious.

Nina bit down on the mouthpiece of the snorkel, wary of breathing wrongly . Sam had insisted that there was no such thing as wrong breathing, that she could only be breathing in the wrong place — like underwater. Pristine and at a pleasant temperature, the water enveloped her floating body as she propelled forward over the reef, hoping that she would not be ravaged by a shark or any other sea creature having a bad day.

Below her, the twisted corals decorated the pale and barren ocean floor, livening it up with bright and beautiful colors in hues Nina did not even know existed. A great assortment of fish species joined her in her exploration, darting across her way and swirling in rapid movements that made her a bit nervous.

‘What if something hides among these bloody schools and lunges out at me?’ Nina scared herself. ‘What if right now I am being followed by a kraken or something and all the fish are actually racing like this because they want to get away from it?’

With a jolt of adrenaline courtesy of her overactive imagination, Nina kicked faster, pressed her arms tightly at her sides and speared her way past the last large rocks to get to the surface. Behind her, a wake of silver bubbles marked her progress and a rush of shimmering little beads of air jetted from the top end of her snorkel.

Nina broke the surface just as she felt her chest and legs begin to burn. With her wet hair swept back on her head, her brown eyes looked especially big. Her feet found the sandy floor and she started to wade her way back to the beach inlet between the hillocks formed by rocks. Wincing, she pushed hard against the current, goggles in hand.

Behind her, the tide started swelling for the flow, a very dangerous time to be in the water around here. The sun had thankfully disappeared behind the gathering clouds, but it was too late. It was Nina's first time in the tropical climes of the world and already she was suffering for it. Sore shoulders punished her every time the water hit her red skin. Her nose had started to peel already from the sunburn of the day before.

“Oh God, can I just get to the shallows already!” she sneered in frustration at the constant onslaught of the waves and sea spray that spattered salty surf against her reddened body. As the waist deep water became knee deep, she hurried to find the closest shelter, which just happened to be a beach bar.

Every single boy and man crossing her path turned to stare as the petite beauty strutted onto the loose sand. Nina's dark eyebrows, perfectly shaped over large dark eyes, only accentuated her marble skin; even if now it was quite reddened. All eyes immediately fell on the three emerald green triangles that barely covered the parts of her that men coveted most. Nina's physique was by no means perfect, but it was the way she carried herself that drove others to admire and desire her.

“Have you seen the man who was with me this morning?” she asked the young bartender who was aptly sporting an unbuttoned flower shirt.

“The man with the obsessive lens?” he asked her. Nina had to smile and nod.

“Aye. That would be the very one I am looking for,” she winked. She collected her white cotton tunic from the corner chair where she had left it and pulled it over her head.

“Have not seen him recently, ma'am. Last I saw he was on his way to meet with some elders of the neighboring village to learn about their culture or something,” the barman added. “Drink?”

“Um, run me a tab?” she charmed.

“Of course! What will it be?” he smiled.

“Sherry,” Nina decided. She doubted they would have liqueur. “Ta.”

The afternoon dulled into a smoky coolness as the tide brought with it a saline mist that drifted onto the beach. Nina sipped her drink, clutching her goggles, while her eyes surveyed her surroundings. Most of the people had left, save for a group of students from Italy making a drunken racket on the other side of the bar and two strangers hovering quietly over their respective drinks by the counter.

When she had finished her sherry, Nina realized that the sea had come much closer, and the sun was sinking quickly.