The Lost Key

Nicholas saw the air gauge on his dive computer was flashing red. He made a cut across his throat. Halpern quickly gave him his own regulator, and pointed to his dive watch, signaled three minutes.

Nicholas pointed to his arm where blood snaked into the water, and Halpern grabbed on to him. They hung quietly, off-gassing for a full three minutes, sharing the regulator back and forth.

Together they rose in an octopus ascent, skimming gently higher and higher, minute by minute, careful and smart, hanging still for another agonizing three minutes, then finally broke the surface. Nicholas saw the Dover not fifty feet away, and the men on deck shouting to them. Nicholas followed their pointing fingers and saw that Havelock’s ship, the Gravitania, was on fire, raging flames amidships, her nose now pointing to the sky. He watched as she slipped silently into the sea.

77

9:00 p.m.

Mike paced the deck of the HMS Dover, watching for Nicholas and Halpern. She’d had a firsthand view of everything Nicholas saw until März attacked. The initial impact had knocked the camera free. She’d never been so afraid in her life. She prayed, promising every good deed she could think of if only the right men would surface. She wouldn’t believe März had won.

The sun was gone, the air brisk and cool. They were using the ship’s big lights to scan the water. A young sailor joined her. “Ma’am? The captain’s asked for you. We have a hit on our sonar. We believe it’s the submersible you’re looking for.”

The Dover had steamed into the loch at the same moment Nicholas and März faced off. They’d gotten both Mike and Shepherd off the Gravitania, and onto the deck of the Dover. Shepherd was being treated in their sick bay, and Mike had briefed the ship’s captain. He’d immediately set to work looking for Havelock’s submersible. And now they’d found it.

Captain Kinsley showed her the spot on the screen. “It came from that narrow strip of land over there about five minutes ago. We can take it out with a single shot, it’s not moving fast enough to outrun us.”

“You’re sure it isn’t Drummond and Halpern?”

“It’s too big to be men, it’s displacing too much water, and moving at about four knots. I’m sure it’s not divers.”

But they could be close, she thought, too close, and she closed her eyes against the possibility. She gave it only a moment’s thought. The key didn’t matter, killing Havelock eliminated the threat of the micro-nukes.

“Light it up, Captain. The man on that submersible is an enemy of both our countries.”

He smiled, signaled to his man, who said, “Firing, firing, firing,” and the torpedo was free. It hissed away, and there was an impact. Mike felt the concussion.

“Direct hit, sir. The submersible is down.”

Havelock was dead. It was over.

A second explosion, this one from above the water, made them all rush to the rails. The Gravitania was on fire, flames spreading through the ship as if following a trail of gasoline.

Mike shouted, “Did you hit it, did the torpedo hit the ship and not the submersible?”

The captain shook his head. “The torpedo was on a completely different path. That explosion was internal to the ship, not external. And there’s no one aboard, so it was probably on a timer of some sort. You didn’t see a bomb on board?”

Mike shook her head, realized her hands were shaking. They’d been plucked off the Gravitania and brought on board the Dover only twenty-two minutes before.

Everyone but Mike watched the ship sink. She was staring down at the water. She knew how much air they had, and it was gone. She had to face it, Nicholas and Halpern hadn’t made it.

The surface of the water began to bubble. When she saw Nicholas’s head break the water, she didn’t say a word, so grateful, she stood mute, heart pounding, thinking over and over, You did it, James Bond, you did it.

—

NICHOLAS AND HALPERN were chilled to the bone. The medics from the Dover wrapped both men in special heat-trapping blankets, stitched Nicholas’s arm, dropped a pain pill down his gullet. When they finally let Mike in to see him, she went straight to his bed and hugged him hard, and kissed him. His lips were cold, his teeth chattering, but he gri

Mike said, “Didn’t we have a talk about you pulling death-defying stunts? You scared me to death.”

Nicholas ran a hand over her hair, rested it on the back of her neck. “At one point down there I saw you clear as day—did you call me a lamebrain?”

“Not this time, I was too scared. You’re all right, Nicholas, you’re all right.”

“I’ve got to admit I didn’t think I was going to make it up, and I wouldn’t have if not for Ryan.” He called out across the sick bay, “I owe you one, Ryan, you saved me. What was the explosion? Tell me what happened above water.”

“They hit the submersible with a torpedo. If Havelock was still in it, he’s dead.”

“So I didn’t dream it, then? I thought I saw a torpedo whiz by. Havelock dead? Somehow I can’t quite come to grips with that. I have a lot to tell you.” He realized he was still holding her close and pulled his hand away. She didn’t move for another moment, then slowly straightened, and he told her about the billions of dollars in gold bars in the sub, about the woman he’d found in her own private tomb. He mentioned briefly März’s attack once he came out of the sub. After they thrashed it all out, she pushed him again about März. Nicholas said only, “He knifed my arm, but in the end, I killed him. As for the key and Curie’s book, Havelock took them.”

“Do you think this was the woman Shepherd spoke of? Ansonia?”

“I do. Is Shepherd awake? I’d like to hear more.”

“Shepherd was in and out of consciousness the whole time you were down. He’s messed up pretty bad. They had no choice but to operate, possible because they’ve got a small operating room on board.” She looked at her watch. “They took him in for surgery maybe twenty minutes ago. It’s going to be a while before he’s coherent enough to talk.”

“Has there been word on Adam and Sophie?”

Mike shook her head. “I would assume they’re probably off on this phantom boat Shepherd talked about, with Weston and Havelock’s whipstress. But there’s been no sign of it.”

“His what?”

“I made it up. Sounds fitting, doesn’t it?”

He burst out laughing, startling the medics, who rushed over to make sure he was okay. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Agent Caine’s a comic, that’s all.”

The captain strode into the sick bay. “We’re receiving some sort of distress signal from that long piece of land and someone’s waving a white flag at us. We’re sending a boat over, and the chopper for support, in case. We’ll have whoever it is on board shortly.”

They heard the chopper’s rotors whining, heard it lift off, and they waited.

78

HMS Dover

9:30 p.m.

After a reluctant nod from his captain, the medic unhooked Nicholas from his IV and discharged him from sick bay. He and Mike went up onto the deck of the Dover to watch the rescue.

The lights of the chopper swung crazily along the coast of Loch Eriboll, the granite cliffs shining white in the beams of light. A small rescue craft scooted over the water, sending out ripples across the surface. The chopper hovered, spi

Five minutes later, the boat was headed back, no shots fired, no trouble at all. When the boat drew close enough, Mike let out a shout. “It’s Sophie Pearce!”

She was a mess, bedraggled, bruised, exhausted, still wearing Alex Shepherd’s shirt, the gauze bandage still wrapped tightly across her back, but she managed to climb the ladder to the deck of the Dover. Both Nicholas and Mike wanted to speak to her, but a medic said, “Nope, first we take care of her.”