“I’d love one.” Luke smiled his most ingratiating smile.
“Jump in.”
Luke opened the passenger side door. The girl shuffled into the middle seat so that he had room to sit. The entire back of the van had been converted into some sort of sleeping arrangement.
“I’m Veronika and this Kristof,” the blonde girl said in a thick German accent.
Luke offered his hand. “My name’s Ryan. Thanks for helping me out.”
“Where are you headed?” Kristof asked.
“Anywhere in town would be much appreciated. I’m heading over to the West Coast tomorrow by bus.”
Kristof admired his small waterproof duffle bag. “You travel light. Do you need to pick up anything else?”
“No. This is it.” Luke smiled at the young German couple. He had an honest smile and a deeply formed cleft chin that gave him the appearance of a model or movie star. The sort of person people tended to trust for no apparent reason.
“This is your lucky day. We’re about to head west. We’ve got to meet up with some friends in California in a few days’ time, so this is going to be a pretty quick trip. We’re happy to take you, if you want to come along for the ride?”
Luke smiled again. It was his lucky day. “That would be great.”
Chapter Twenty Three
They drove for two days along Interstate 10. Driving hard, the three of them took it in turns to drive. Veronika played the guitar and the three of them sang old classic rock songs and smoked weed.
By the time they reached California the three had become good friends. Albeit based primarily on illegal drug use and old rock and roll. They’d travelled some three thousand miles together in a small van. It brings people together.
Kristof looked at him as they entered the southern tip of California. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve got business in Los Angeles,” Luke said.
“Really, you don’t look like someone who’s traveling for business?”
Luke stared at the young man. Despite his sixties flashback appearance, he was an intelligent man. A computer engineer from Berlin. There’s only so much you can fool an engineer. Kristof offered him another lit roll. Luke took it and breathed deep. “I made a mistake.”
“What sort of mistake?”
“We were offered a lot of money for something we’d created. My business partner thought it was a good deal and accepted it, while I refused. Apparently the price of refusal was death. They tried to kill me and came very close to doing just that.”
“Wow, someone’s hunting you?” Kristof turned from the steering wheel to look at him.
“Watch the road. No one’s looking for me. They already think I’m dead.”
“Sweet. So what do you need in California?”
Luke took a deep suck on the hippy’s weed to relax himself before he spoke. “I need to pick up something.”
“Okay, cool. We’ll help you out. Where is it?”
“It’s in a place called Death Valley.”
Chapter Twenty Four
They drove the small Kombi van into the entrance to Death Valley National Park. It was the hottest and driest place in North America. Luke climbed out. “Thanks for the lift,” he said politely, closing the door to the car.
Kristof stared at him like he had a death wish. “Are you going to be all right out here? You’re a long way from anything.”
Luke nodded his head. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be back by tomorrow morning.”
“We’ll be here.”
“Thanks.”
With his duffle bag thrown over his shoulders like a backpack, a big Texan hat and little else, Luke walked into the desert. He started climbing the sand dunes that looked like the never ending swell of the oceans, and continued all the way to the horizon.
He walked for hours upon hours.
At the top of a ridge, he took the sextant out of his duffle bag and took a reading of the sun. The sextant was broken, out by five degrees. The thing had always been that way as far as he could tell.
It had only served to make his treasure cache more secure.
Anyone could find “X marks the spot” using a GPS. But very few people could work it out based on the coordinates of an old sextant, especially one that was out by five degrees.
He took the reading. Grinned. He was getting close. He would still reach it by nightfall. He climbed another dune, followed by another and then stopped. Luke took a final reading — and then commenced digging.
Ravenously, he dug into the sand, as though he might just find water. He dug deeper and deeper, until, his shovel struck metal.
He stopped.
Smiling, he carefully removed the sand on top and then pried the box free from the earth. Luke struck the rusted lock with the edge of his shovel. Sparks flew for an instant, and the lock broke free. He quickly opened it.
Inside, a cool million in cash was packaged in neat bundles of hundred dollar notes. Next to it a magnum 44 with several rounds of cartridges. Last, and most precious amongst his hoard of treasure, in a small bundle of notes was his new identity. A passport and driver’s license. Years ago, he’d paid a man who worked for the DMV to scour their records for a man who matched his facial appearance, someone who was currently single and desperate.
Ryan Thomas had met those criteria.
He also desperately needed money to pay medical bills for a rare type of cancer that would most likely bankrupt him before it killed him. Luke had met with the unfortunate man, and offered to pay for all his medical expenses, on the proviso that once he died, Luke could have his identity.
Luke examined the passport photo. It was uncanny their resemblance. They could have easily been twins. He smiled. Luke Eldridge was now a dead man.
He was now Ryan Thomas. A dead man with a secret. One that a federation of powerful people around the world, including politicians, had killed to maintain. Luke had only one name on the list of people responsible for the attack on him. But it wasn’t hard to imagine who had the most to lose with his discovery. He had one of the brightest minds on earth, cash, and a new life. Somehow, he would find out exactly who was behind the offer.
He grinned.
And then THEY were going to discover that some dead men do more than talk.
Chapter Twenty Five
The constant hum of the Maria Helena’s powerful twin diesel engines reduced to an idle. Sam looked at the spectacular azure water surrounding the Bimini Islands. Like a jewel in the Gulf Stream, few islands held the imagination of so many for so long. Legends — the Bimini Islands manufactured them like a magic factory. All of the great ones were tied up in there somehow. The Fountain of Youth, the Ruins of Atlantis, Megalithic Stones. It was all there.
And it had all been disproved.
Sam stared at the sparkling waters. The fountain of youth turned out to have high levels of lithium providing people with a natural mood elevator. As for Atlantis, Sam had already been to the Temple of Poseidon, and this wasn’t it. Extensive geological studies and mineral analysis of the Megalithic Stones showed them to be natural, albeit unique, limestone formations.
But Sam knew a strange fact about legends. Sometimes they’re based on an ounce of truth. Often a minor detail, or a hidden truth. The Antiqui Nautae were that truth. He didn’t even know why he believed it so much, but he was going to prove it.
Sam walked down to the Maria Helena’s moon pool. He quickly attached his single dive tank to his buoyancy control device — BCD for short. Turned the regulator open and rotated it back half a click to stop the seal from catching. He picked up the dive computer and confirmed 210 BAR of air pressure. It would be a shallow dive. Less than fifteen feet. No need for twin tanks.