Clive Cussler - Wrath of Poseidon

A fitting end. Because of her son’s obsession with that godforsaken treasure, bringing unnecessary attention to her island, she’d had to suspend all operations in the face of the federal police investigation.

Her phone rang. She checked the caller ID, saw her attorney’s number, and answered it, turning it on speaker. “Leon,” she said, placing the phone on the table. “Please tell me there’s some good news?”

“The best I can give you is that it’s not all bad. Since your men are unwilling to testify that he pushed the old man into the cave, and the two witnesses didn’t actually see anything but your son standing there, the police don’t have a case for murder.”

“Small miracle.”

“That being said, they do have a good case for kidnapping. If it goes to court, we’re likely to find ourselves in the midst of an ugly inquest. I have a feeling that none of us will survive it.”

The mistake had been hers. She should have cut Adrian from the family business years ago. He was reckless and there was no talking to her son once he set his mind to something. Sadly, his narcissistic personality clouded all sense. He knew better than anyone, refused to listen to reason, and blamed everyone else for his inept handling of whatever the task at hand. “So how do we stop this . . . nightmare from happening?”

“Short of murdering your son in his cell?” Leon said.

Ilya’s expression darkened. “I don’t find that amusing.”

“I agree,” Minerva said. While Ilya might work for her, he had an unwavering loyalty to her son.

“I meant no harm,” Leon replied. “It was merely an unfortunate figure of speech. The prosecutor has offered a plea deal, which is why I’m calling.”

“A plea deal?” Minerva said. “To what?’

“Kidnapping,” Leon said. “My suggestion is that Adrian will admit to organizing the kidnapping in his misguided attempt to protect the family olive oil business, after the old man slipped into the cavern. The sentence for that is far less than anything else they’re likely to offer.”

The idea had merit. But her son wasn’t the only problem they were dealing with. There was also the shooting at their processing facility. Ilya had suggested that they may have to sacrifice a few guards for the good of the organization, adding a well-thought-out letter of confession to go along with their suicides—not that she was about to suggest such a move to her attorney. Right now, though, her son’s situation was more important. “Can I give this some thought and get back to you later this afternoon?” she asked Leon. “We have something in the works.”

“Unfortunately, I need to let the prosecutor know before we appear in court this morning. Otherwise the deal is off, and we’re faced with a trial.”

Minerva looked at Ilya. “How long do we need?”

“As I said, they’re readying the helicopter now.”

In the end, her decision wasn’t that hard. Adrian was going to have to pay for his misdeeds. Unless she found a way to even the playing field for him—and eliminating Sam Fargo was at the top of her list. She picked up the phone and turned off the speaker. “Hold off on that deal until you hear from me.”

“Very good.”

“Is that wise?” Ilya asked her once she disconnected.

“Until I know every one of those people is dead, I’m not willing to take a chance that my son will spend the rest of his life in prison.”

“I understand. I’ll call you as soon as it’s done.”

“You won’t need to. I’m going with you.”

Ilya, the man who usually seemed so calm, suddenly stood, looking alarmed. “I wouldn’t advise it. You need to be here. Besides, there’s not enough room.”

“They’ll have to make room.” She walked out, crossed the deck, then took the stairs up to the helipad, the sound of the rotors beating the air growing louder.

Ilya followed her. “Mrs. Kyril . . .” he shouted as he followed her up. “It would be best if you stayed here. By the phone. I’ll call you as soon as it’s done.”

She rounded on him. “Every single time I’ve relied on you to make sure things get done, your men have failed. Perhaps it’s time for someone else to ensure this is handled properly.”

The pilot and two men carrying assault rifles were already aboard. When she climbed on, the pilot looked over at Ilya, who waited behind. Minerva turned. “Why isn’t he boarding?”

“Not enough room, Mrs. Kyril,” the pilot shouted. “Four seats, four passengers.”

She waved her hand. “Let’s go. Maybe this time we can get it right.”

He gave a slight nod, then took off.

CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

Had Sam and the others not seen the goat leaving the cave, they might have missed it altogether. Between the glare of the sun, and the shadows cast upon the ground, not to mention the large rocks in front of it, they were lucky to have even seen the goat from where they stood. With smaller rocks and scrub cleared, it was hard to believe anyone could miss such a wide opening.

Remi stood at the entrance, looking down. “I guess I thought it’d be covered with more rock. Wasn’t part of the story about how Poseidon shook the earth and swallowed the cave?”

Nikos laughed. “You forget you’re in Greece. With all the seismic activity over the centuries, it’s not surprising that what at one time covered the cave is no longer there.”

When everything was ready to go, Sam stepped up to the cave mouth, turning on a flashlight. Remi moved next to him and looked in. The cave sloped diagonally into the interior of the islet and the light hit the walls about thirty feet down. There was a definite dark shadow below. Beyond that, Remi couldn’t see.

“It doesn’t look too deep from here,” she said.

“It’s hard to say until we get in there,” Sam replied.

He double-checked Remi’s harness, making sure the fit was right. “You’ll be fine. It’s a lot easier than rappelling down a cliff.”

“And what if something bad happens? Who’s going to call for help if we’re all down there?”

Dimitris smiled at her as he adjusted his helmet, grabbed the rope, then started down. “Zoe knows we’re here. She’ll send someone to come looking for us.”

The first part of the descent appeared easy. The stone rock formation made natural steps down into the shaft, and the rope was used more for balance.

Nikos went next. When he reached the bottom, Sam looked at Remi. “Your turn.”

She buckled her helmet’s chin strap, then peered into the cavern. It wasn’t getting down there that was the hard part. It was being down there. She wasn’t a fan of deep, dark places. “You sure you don’t want me to stay here and chase the goats out?”

“Something tells me we’ll be fine from any marauding wildlife.”

He held out his hand. She took it, stepping down into the cave, and grasping the rope, let it slip through her hands as she picked her way down the stone steps. At the bottom, she dropped the rope, waited for Sam, then crossed the cavern floor toward Nikos and Dimitris. The two men stood near a pool of water, the surface reflecting the light from their headlamps.

Nikos crouched down in front of it. “Runoff from the rain,” he said. “Undoubtedly why the goats visit.” He stood. “It would have been too much to ask that the treasure was in there.”

They worked their way around the edge of the pool, where, just a few feet beyond, was an opening in the floor leading down into another chamber. Dimitris took a coil of rope from his pack, looking for a spot to anchor it.

Remi eyed the rope, then the cavern below. “That looks pretty dark.”

Sam reached over and switched on her headlamp. “Better?”