Ancients

no need to be here any longer,' she said as she was suddenly praying that someone, anyone, would show up and stop what she knew was about to happen.

'You're not so secret anymore.'

'What ... I ... please, you need me.' The pleading in her voice was clear. The last of the marines' gunfire ceased and several loud whistles and sirens from the harbor patrol blared as Pearl woke up to the assault on their revered Arizona.

'I need my people back. Can you give them to me?'

Dahlia saw the raised gun and finally knew what it was like to face imminent death. This man was going to murder her.

Jack raised his weapon and fired.

The three Coalition divers had come close to catching Jack unaware. At the last second, the light from the rising moon caught the glass in one of the face masks of the divers. Jack had just enough time to fire directly over the head of the woman, who had thought for sure the American colonel was going to murder her.

The first of the Coalition divers went down with a hole placed cleanly into his forehead, but the other two ducked into the murk of Ford Island. Jack dived for cover just as twenty silenced rounds whacked the damp soil around him. As he looked up, he saw the woman disappear into the cattails and reeds. He took quick aim and fired five times at the spot where she had vanished, but the area had suddenly become motionless.

As Collins stood, helicopters started shining large searchlights around the area of the memorial. He reached for his radio to inform them to search Ford Island for the woman and at least two Coalition men. As he raised the small radio to his mouth, he realized that it was not going to work. He had been in the water so long that seawater had shorted out its workings. Collins reared back and threw it into the reeds.

At that moment, Everett broke through the reeds and saw Jack.

'Jesus, Jack, I thought you bought it. The woman?' he asked as he walked forward.

'Order a sweep of the area. Maybe they can find her, but I suspect she has nine lives.'

'Yeah, maybe, but with you taking shots at her, I bet she's only got one or two left.'

Dahlia was getting her leg tended to by one of the few survivors of another botched raid. Because of this colonel, she was on a losing streak. She winced as the diver placed pressure on her wound as he wrapped it.

Three of them had managed to evade the massive search for the attackers by marines and shore patrol. They had crawled through mud and mosquitoes to a waiting boat and slowly made their way to the dry-dock facility across the harbor. From there it had been a terrifying game of cat and mouse as they barely managed to hide from patrols looking for survivors. Dahlia knew that she was now one of the most wanted women in the world, and she owed it all to Jack Collins.

Once in the city, the men who had saved her took her to a safe house that she had prepared just in case something like this happened. She stretched out on the couch with her injured leg up on the arm, in the dingy room with a small automatic in her lap. Having a weapon was distasteful, but if Collins came through that door, she promised herself, she would put a bullet into his brainpan.

When a knock sounded at the door, Dahlia took the gun and aimed. Using the barrel of the weapon, she gestured for one of the men to answer. She doubted very much that Collins or the U.S. Navy would be so polite as to knock. One of the divers opened the door, and she relaxed as three men came through. They all were worn and tired. However, one man was smiling.

'And what is it that makes you stand there grinning like a fool?' she asked.

'You may find this of value. A nice second prize,' the man said as he tossed the map case to her. Then he accepted a glass of water from one of his companions. 'We almost didn't make it. The Honolulu policeman who stopped us won't be hula dancing anymore.'

Dahlia opened the aged plastic case. The smell was atrocious as she looked from the Coalition diver back to the items inside. She slowly pulled out several charts and maps. There were also handwritten notes. She looked at the map and her eyes widened.

'It looks like you just may have tripled the bonuses of every man in this room.' She smiled at the words written on the map of Africa.

'Then it is important?' the man asked, lowering his glass of water.

The men looked at the colored relief and saw the written coordinates placed there by the hand of Franklin Van Valkenberg, captain of the USS Arizona. In the weeks that he had possession of the plate map, he had figured out its secret and soon had calculated the resting place of the Key, exactly where Dahlia knew she and her men would be in the coming days.

She picked up the cell phone and pushed a single, special number. The man answered on the first ring.

'William, we have the location of the Atlantean Key.'

Dahlia hung up, then picked up the gun and smiled as she thought about Colonel Jack Collins. She knew that with the plate map he would come looking for the Atlantean Key. As she tapped the barrel against her muddy cheek, she thought about that bullet she would place into the colonel's head.

'This is one killing I do myself, free of charge.'

12

THE WHITE HOUSE

WASHINGTON, D.C.

The president sat silently watching the live C-SPAN feed from the United Nations in New York. The ambassador from North Korea was berating the Americans from the podium.

'They just threw out the evidence we sent them,' the president said to no one in particular. 'The Chinese were not able to convince them of the truth, or they're just not hearing it.'

Niles watched the angry animation of the Korean ambassador, but what was more important to Niles was the way the Chinese delegation sat stoically, not moving an inch as their ally decried what they perceived as a South Korean and American conspiracy to weaken the People's Army to the point of total collapse. The ambassador even threw in the disaster at the Russian port of Vladivostok for good measure. Damn! The president needed the Russians' support, but Niles as well as the president knew that this was a backlash action over the harvest and grain shortages.

Previously, the American secretary of state had told the world about the true nature of the Coalition that was truly responsible for the seismic attacks. Armed with only circumstantial evidence, and with the ambush in Chicago on record, even allies of the United States had looked on with skepticism.

The president could endure it no longer and snapped off the television.

'We can't stop them if they come across the border, can we, Ken?'

'The delay in moving in our sea power has seriously damaged our reaction time. Our pilots and the Japanese are running nonstop from Kempo, they're beat, and it's even harder on the aircraft.'

'So there's not a whole hell of a lot we can do about it,' the president finished for him.

'We have options, Mr. President.

'Ken, you know me--until they threaten to push the Second Infantry Division into the sea, that option will not be discussed, not with the world thinking we're behind these disasters.'

Admiral Fuqua stood and paced to the far wall and looked at a portrait of General George Washington. Compton had briefed the admiral on his SEAL-and salvage-team losses at Pearl and knew his anger.

'Admiral, do you have something on your mind?' the president asked.

'I see no way out of this outside of nuclear weapons' use.'

The room erupted as most thought that the admiral might be intentionally goading the president.

'Gentlemen, let the admiral voice his opinion,' the president said.

'We can't take more carrier groups from their current deployments,' he said, turning to face the room. 'Hell, it would be over by the time we got them in theater anyway. But we can'--the admiral turned again and faced the president directly--'pull everyone out.'

The gathered military men just stared at the admiral as if he had lost his mind. However, Niles could see the