The Secret of Excalibur

‘So that’s why you never talk about him.’

‘Your dad was a role model,’ Chase said, voice bitter. ‘Mine was everything I didn’t want to be. I never talked about him ’cause I didn’t want to be reminded of him . . . and I didn’t want to think that I might be anything like him.’

Nina had paused in her treatment to listen; now, she gave a final dab to his last cut. ‘I don’t think you are,’ she whispered, kissing him.

He returned it. ‘Thanks.’ It was only a single word, but it told Nina the depth of his gratitude.

They sat against each other as the lifepod continued its sluggish voyage home.

To their surprise, they weren’t met by armed and angry Russians as the pod finally bumped against the jetty. Instead, Chase opened the top hatch to find Maximov waiting for them. ‘It’s okay, he’s on our side,’ he assured Nina as he helped her out. ‘I think.’

‘Uh-huh,’ Nina said uncertainly.

‘What happened to submarine?’ Maximov asked. ‘Whole front end came out of water like - like whale!’

‘Well, it’s sleeping with the fishes now,’ Chase told him. He saw a handful of people waiting at the dock’s cavernous entrance. ‘What’s going on?’

‘They were going to fly away in the boss’s jet.’ The big Russian grinned menacingly. ‘I persuade them to stay, wait for army or navy or whoever to arrive.’

‘But we’ve got to get out of here,’ said Nina. ‘Jack’s got the sword. We need to go after him.’

‘Can you get us back to Moscow?’ asked Chase.

Maximov looked puzzled. ‘Da, in jet. But I said, we wait for army to arrive.’

‘No, seriously, that would be a really bad idea. You know who they’re going to blame for all this? Whoever they find. You’re Russian, you know the drill - bag everyone in sight and worry about who actually did anything later. And if we’re all under arrest, we can’t stop Mitchell getting away.’

‘You have point,’ said Maximov. ‘Okay, I take you to plane, get you back to Moscow.’

Nina shivered. ‘Anywhere, as long as it’s warm.’

The lights were on in Pavel Prikovsky’s warehouse, but it was far from warm. The gate was open, the door ajar.

‘Stay in the car,’ Chase warned Nina. Vaskovich’s jet had been equipped with a gun cabinet; the fact that it had a combination code presumably known only to Vaskovich and Kruglov made no difference to Maximov, who simply ripped off the door. Both men drew their weapons and cautiously advanced across the yard.

Chase peered through the door, seeing one of Prikovsky’s men lying in a pool of blood. It had coagulated; whatever had happened had taken place some time ago. It couldn’t have been Mitchell, then . . . but it could have been men acting under his orders.

The warehouse was silent. Chase held up three fingers as a signal to Maximov, mouthed a countdown, then burst through the door, the Russian covering him. He swept his gun from side to side. No movement. No life.

They made their way through the stacks of boxes to Prikovsky’s office, passing another corpse slumped against a forklift, his chest a ragged mess of bullet holes. Prikovsky was slumped over his desk, dead eyes staring at the door as they entered. ‘Oh, Jesus,’ said Chase softly. Prikovsky had hardly been a friend, but he had still come through for him, and this was his reward. The Russian had been shot in both legs, but the actual cause of death was easy to see: a metal pole protruding from his back, plunging down through his chest and the table below. Someone had held Prikovsky in that position in order to impale him, leaving a very clear message.

Chase knew he was the intended recipient. A piece of paper had been taped to the pole, three words printed on it in large bold capitals.

CALL YOUR SISTER.

‘Shit,’ Chase whispered, filled with utter dread. He hunted for a phone, and found one that had been knocked from the desk by Prikovsky’s struggle.

‘What does it say?’ Maximov asked.

‘The fucker’s going after my family!’ Snatching up the phone, Chase dialled 44, the international dialling code for Britain, then Elizabeth’s number. He waited anxiously for the connection to be made, the phone to start ringing . . .

The answer came on the second ring. ‘Lizzie!’ Chase snapped. ‘Are you okay? Is Holly all—’

‘Eddie, oh, my God!’ Elizabeth cried. ‘They took her, they took Holly!’

‘Who? Who took her?’

‘I don’t know, they wore masks! They said they were watching, that if I called the police or spoke to anyone else they’d kill her - that I had to wait to hear from you!’

Chase smashed his gun down on the desk, splintering the wood in his barely contained fury. ‘Mitchell, you fucking little shit, talk to me! I know you can hear me!’

A click, then a familiar voice on the line, an eerie electronic distortion behind it. ‘Hello, Eddie.’

‘Let Holly go, right now,’ Chase barked. ‘Or I will fucking kill you.’

‘Save your threats, Eddie.’ There was another noise under Mitchell’s voice, the whine of an aircraft’s engines. He was no longer aboard the submarine.

‘It wasn’t a threat. It was a promise.’

‘Don’t waste my time and I won’t waste yours. I want Nina. Or rather, I need Nina. I know this is kinda drastic, but I needed to show that I’m one hundred per cent serious.’

‘By kidnapping a teenage girl?’ Chase cried. ‘The British government’ll go apeshit!’

‘The British government will shut the fuck up and do as they’re told, like always. But they won’t even need to hear about this if you do what I tell you. Bring me Nina, and you get your niece back.’

‘Eddie, what is it?’

Chase whirled to see Nina standing in the doorway. ‘That fucker’s kidnapped Holly!’

‘Is that Nina?’ Mitchell asked as she reacted with shock. ‘Put her on, Eddie.’

Tight-lipped with anger, Chase put the phone on speaker. ‘She’s here.’

‘Nina, hi. I’m sure you’ve guessed what I want already, but I’ll tell you anyway so there’s no ambiguity - I want you to turn yourself over to my people. In return, I’ll let Eddie’s niece go.’

‘Your people?’ Nina said in disgust. ‘Kidnappers and killers? I’m ashamed to be an American right now. DARPA’ll be finished when this gets out.’

Mitchell almost laughed. ‘You still think I actually work for DARPA? I didn’t realise you were so naive.’

‘A black project,’ Chase growled.

‘Blackest of the black. This is way too important to be put in the hands of any official agency. Or politician.’

‘So you’ve just unilaterally declared yourself the guardian of American interests?’ Nina asked, appalled.

‘Someone has to do it. But I’m not here to debate idealism versus realpolitik - I’m here to do a job, and for that I need you. Get back to England. Once you’re there, call this number again. We’re monitoring it; I’ll hear you. And then we can make the exchange.’

‘No!’ Chase shouted. ‘You want me to trade my fiancee for my niece? Fuck you! I can’t - I can’t make a choice like that!’

‘I can,’ Nina said quietly. ‘I’ll do it.’

‘What?’

‘I said I’ll do it.’

‘No you fucking won’t!’

Her voice was firm. ‘I have to. And you know it. It’s the only way to get Holly back safely. She’s your niece . . . and she’s going to be mine too.’ She took his hand. ‘She’s going to be part of my family, Eddie. And you have to do whatever’s necessary to protect your family.’ She turned to face the phone. ‘Jack, we’ll do it. I’ll do it. If I have your absolute assurance that Holly will be released unharmed.’

‘You have it,’ Mitchell replied. ‘Now get to England. And make it soon.’ The line went dead.

Chase swept the phone off the table. ‘Fuck! I don’t fucking believe him, he’ll kill her anyway. He can’t risk anyone finding out what he’s done.’