The Secret of Excalibur (2 page)

The trio left the church, joining Yosarin and climbing back into their black SUV. As they drove down the winding road, the first curls of smoke drifted from the door of the little church, catching the last light of the dying sun as they rose.

1

Washington, DC: Three Weeks Later

‘
N
ervous?’ asked Eddie Chase, nudging his fiancée as they approached the door.

Nina Wilde fingered the pendant round her neck, her good-luck charm. ‘Er, yeah. Aren’t you?’

‘Why? We’ve met the guy before.’

‘Yes, but he wasn’t the frickin’
President
then, was he?’ An aide opened the door, and they were ushered into the Oval Office.

They were greeted by applause as they entered. Waiting for them were former US Navy admiral Hector Amoros, their current boss at the United Nations’ International Heritage Agency; several White House officials and representatives of Congress; the First Lady . . . and Victor Dalton, the President of the United States of America.

‘Dr Wilde!’ he said, stepping forward to shake her hand. ‘And Mr Chase. Good to see you both again.’

‘Good to see you again too. Uh, Mr President,’ Nina added quickly.

Chase shook hands next. ‘Thank you, sir.’

The others took their seats while Nina, Chase and Dalton remained standing. Dalton waited for everyone to settle before speaking, standing half-turned to face the White House photographer recording the event as much as his guests of honour. ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he began, ‘distinguished members of Congress, members of my Cabinet. It is truly a great privilege to present this award to a woman whose unflinching bravery in the face of extreme danger has saved countless lives, both in America and elsewhere in the world. And at the same time, a woman whose dedication to science and discovery has changed our view of history for ever, restoring to the world long-lost treasures that until now were thought only to be myth. In a way, she is responsible for protecting both our past
and
our future. I am honoured today to introduce Dr Nina Wilde, the discoverer of the lost city of Atlantis and the buried Tomb of Hercules, and also the saviour of this nation from a monstrous terrorist act, and to present her with the highest accolade this office can bestow - the Presidential Medal of Freedom.’

Nina blushed, simultaneously fighting the pedantic urge to correct Dalton - Atlantis was the name of the
island
, not the city - as he carefully took a medal on a blue ribbon from a velvet tray. ‘Dr Wilde, this nation is in your debt. I would be honoured if you would accept this symbol of our eternal gratitude.’

‘Thank you, Mr President,’ she said, lowering her head. Dalton raised the medal and placed it round her neck. He then shook her hand once more before turning her to face the strobing flashes of the camera, leaving her momentarily dazzled. The speech she had worked out earlier melted away to nothing under the onslaught of light and renewed applause. ‘Thank you,’ she repeated, struggling to come up with something intelligent to say. ‘I’m . . . I’m very grateful for this award, this honour. And, um, I’d also like to thank my fiancé, Eddie -’ She cringed mentally at that.
I’d also like to thank? This isn’t the goddamn Oscars!
- ‘without whom I’d probably be, well, dead. Several times over. Thank you. Everyone.’ Cheeks now as red as her hair, she moved back.

‘Dr Wilde stepped on my toes a little there,’ said Dalton jovially, raising a polite laugh and making Nina wish the Oval Office had a secret trapdoor she could disappear down. ‘But yes, the second person we’re here to honour today is Eddie Chase,’ he gestured for Chase to step forward and take Nina’s place, ‘who as a former member of the United Kingdom’s elite Special Air Service has chosen to eschew public recognition for security reasons, which is a decision we can all respect. But this nation owes him as much as Dr Wilde a tremendous debt of gratitude for his role in preventing a terrorist atrocity.’ He shook Chase’s hand. ‘Mr Chase, on behalf of the people of the United States of America, I thank you.’

‘Thank you,’ said Chase as the applause began again. When it became clear that he wasn’t going to add anything else, the sound quickly died down. This time, only a single picture was taken: unlike the photos of Nina, which would be attached to a press release and sent out to news agencies worldwide within the hour, this was solely for the White House’s official records. Dalton’s slight turn away from Chase acted as an unspoken signal that the formal part of the presentation was over, and the audience stood, the politicians quickly seizing the opportunity to approach the President.

‘So, that was your big speech?’ Chase said quietly to Nina. ‘Thought it was going to be all about “the wonder of great treasures from the past”?’

Nina’s face screwed up at the reminder. ‘Don’t start. God, I was so embarrassed. You’re lucky I managed anything more coherent than “
Duuuhhh
...” ’

Amoros stepped up to them. ‘Well, congratulations, to both of you. Eddie, are you
sure
you don’t want any kind of recognition? I’m sure something could have been arranged.’

‘That’s okay,’ said Chase firmly. ‘I’ve pissed off a lot of people over the years - last thing I need is to remind them that I shot their scumbag brother or whatever by getting a medal.’ He looked down at Nina’s neck. ‘Speaking of which, that suits you. You should wear it at the airport, see if it gets us a free upgrade to first class.’ Nina gave him a sarcastic smile.

‘You’re still rushing off to England tonight?’ Amoros asked.

Chase nodded. ‘Wednesday, meet the President of the United States at the White House. Thursday, meet my nan for tea and biscuits in Bournemouth. Not
quite
in the same league.’

‘We’ve been engaged for nearly a year,’ said Nina. ‘We thought it was time I met Eddie’s family.’

‘
You
thought it was time,’ Chase said pointedly.

Nina held back her response as Dalton joined them, hangers-on moving into position around him. ‘So, Dr Wilde. You found Atlantis and the Tomb of Hercules - what’s next on your agenda? Discovering the Temple of Solomon, or maybe Noah’s Ark?’ He finished the sentence with a small chuckle.

Nina didn’t laugh. ‘Actually, my current project for the IHA goes back much farther than anything I’ve done before - before Atlantis, even. What I’m trying to do is take advantage of the IHA’s access to worldwide archaeological and anthropological data to track the spread of humanity around the world in prehistory.’ The words came out faster as her enthusiasm mounted. ‘The general pattern of the expansion of mankind out of Africa across Asia and Australasia, and then later into the Americas and Europe, is pretty well established. The lowering of sea levels during ice ages allowed ancient humans to travel overland and settle in places that are now under water - there’s a very promising site in Indonesia we’re planning to explore later in the year.’

‘I can’t wait,’ said Chase. ‘It’ll be great to finally get out of the office and see some action!’

‘Careful what you wish for,’ Nina joked. ‘But my goal is to pinpoint the
exact
origin of humanity; the cradle of civilisation, so to speak.’

Dalton raised an eyebrow. ‘Sounds to me like you’re looking for the Garden of Eden.’

‘You could say that, yes. Although not in the Adam and Eve, talking snake sense. Actually finding the place where
Homo sapiens
branched off from other ancient hominids won’t make the Creationists happy!’ She realised Dalton had tensed slightly, and Amoros cleared his throat in a tone of soft but definite warning. ‘Oh God, sorry, they’re part of your - your “base”, aren’t they? Sorry.’

‘That’s okay,’ said Dalton, smiling thinly. ‘My base is broader than just the Creationist wing, fortunately. Why, some of my supporters even believe the earth revolves around the sun!’ He forced a laugh, his entourage joining in; after a moment, Nina followed suit in a mixture of embarrassment and relief. ‘It all sounds fascinating, Dr Wilde. Although it’ll be a tall order to top discovering Atlantis and the Tomb of Hercules - and both before you were thirty! You turned thirty just recently, am I right?’

‘Yeah, I did,’ said Nina, not happy to be reminded of the fact.

‘Well, I’m sure you’ve still got time for plenty more accomplishments!’ Dalton laughed again, as did Nina, though this time it was her turn to be forcing it.

He was about to turn away when Chase spoke. ‘’Scuse me, Mr President - can I ask you about something? Sort of in private?’ He tipped his head to indicate a spot a few feet away from the rest of the group.

Dalton exchanged looks with his staff, then smiled and stepped over, the ever-present Secret Service agents watching from the side of the room. ‘Of course. What can I do for you, Mr Chase?’

‘I wanted to ask what’s going on with Sophia.’

‘You mean Sophia Blackwood?’

Chase very nearly replied, ‘No, Sophia
Loren
,’ but managed to hold back the sarcastic retort. The former Lady Blackwood - the UK parliament had recently stripped her of her title
in absentia
- was Chase’s ex-wife . . . and also the mastermind behind the planned act of nuclear terrorism that he and Nina had just barely foiled. ‘Yeah, Sophia Blackwood. Last I heard, she’d been moved to Guantánamo Bay. When’re you going to put her on trial?’

‘She was moved to Guantánamo for her own safety,’ Dalton answered. ‘If we put her in the normal prison system, she’d be dead long before we could hold a trial.’

‘It’d save all those lawyers’ fees. We all know she’s guilty, and you’re going to execute her anyway, right?’

Dalton gave him a cold smile. ‘I have faith in the justice system to do the right thing.’

‘Glad to hear it.’ Chase raised his hand. ‘Thank you, Mr President.’

‘Thank
you
, Mr Chase.’ The President shook the offered hand, then raised his voice. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to take care of a small difference of opinion with our Russian friends. The
USS George Washington
is already on station, but hopefully a second carrier group will help make our point.’ The muted laughter the comment provoked was very much of the dark kind: the ongoing disagreement between the West and Russia over the extension of the latter’s territorial claims in the Arctic had taken an ominous turn just a few days earlier, when Russian warships forced an American survey vessel out of the disputed waters at the point of their guns. ‘Dr Wilde, Mr Chase - and Hector,’ Dalton added, nodding to Amoros, ‘thank you.’

With that, Nina, Chase and Amoros left the Oval Office, a young aide escorting them through the White House corridors. ‘Thought that went okay,’ said Chase. ‘Well, my bits did, anyway.’

Nina ground a fist against her forehead. ‘Oh, God! I can’t believe I made an ass of myself in front of the President!’

‘Twice in two minutes, an’ all,’ Chase commented.

‘
Not
helping!’

‘Don’t worry about it, Nina,’ Amoros said reassuringly. ‘You did fine.’

Chase waved a thumb at the medal round her neck. ‘And you got a nice piece of bling out of it.’

‘Eddie,’ Amoros chided, ‘the Presidential Medal of Freedom is
not
“bling”!’

Nina felt mildly affronted as well. ‘Yeah, come on, Eddie. I wouldn’t make fun of you if you got a medal from the Queen.’

‘Who says I haven’t?’ Chase replied, deadpan.

Nina regarded him suspiciously. Even after having known him for over two years, she still wasn’t quite able to tell whether he was being serious or, as he called it on the frequent occasions when he was doing so, ‘taking the piss’. ‘Nah,’ she said at last. ‘If you’d really got a medal from the Queen, you’d have told me by now. Even you couldn’t keep that a secret.’

He shrugged. ‘Suit yourself. I’ve got medals, though. I just don’t make a big deal about them. They’re in a box somewhere.’

‘Well, maybe you can dig them out and show them to me when we get home. We’ve got time before the flight.’

Chase grinned. ‘I didn’t say the box was
here
, did I?’ He flicked Nina’s medal, making a faint metallic ting. ‘I think you should wear that on the train back to New York. See if anyone recognises you.’

Nina was indeed recognised on the Acela high-speed train to Penn Station, but it wasn’t because of the medal, which she returned to its presentation case before leaving the White House.

The discovery of Atlantis had not taken place under ideal conditions - the backer of Nina’s expedition had ulterior, genocidal motives. So the Western nations behind the founding of the International Heritage Agency, under the auspices of the United Nations, had in large part set it up in order to devise a much more innocuous cover story.

Such a story had finally been agreed upon, and a carefully staged programme of media coverage arranged to reveal it to the public, with Nina, fittingly enough, at its head. As a result, she had recently been doing the publicity rounds in newspapers, magazines and even TV - hence her being spotted by a man who asked for her autograph. ‘Bit more of this,’ said Chase as they left the train, ‘and you’ll be in all the tabloids.’

‘God, no! I don’t want
that
much recognition,’ Nina moaned. Though she had to admit, being recognised by a complete stranger had been a flattering, if bizarre, experience. ‘It’s not like I’m a movie star.’

‘You’re a star to me, love,’ said Chase, putting a hand round her waist before casually sliding it down to grope her butt. She bumped her hip against his to push him back as a reminder that they were still in public. ‘So if they made a film about our lives, who do you reckon’d play us? Shame Cary Grant’s dead, he’d be perfect for me.’

Nina gave the squat, balding, broken-nosed Englishman a sidelong look. ‘Riiiight,’ she said, running a hand through his close-cropped hair. ‘You just keep on dreaming.’

While Chase returned to their apartment to finish packing, Nina took a cab to the United Nations building on the bank of the East River. She rode the elevator up through the tall Secretariat Building and made her way to the IHA’s offices.