Rob Jones
The Sword of Fire
DEDICATION
For My Children
CHAPTER ONE
Joe Hawke looked at the ring for the third time in an hour and snapped the tiny box shut with his fingers. If anyone had told him he would ask another woman to marry him after the devastation caused by his first wife’s brutal murder he would have told them they were insane, and yet he had an engagement ring in his hand. He just hoped Lea Donovan would say yes — if he found the courage to ask her.
He slipped the box in his pocket, gave the two secret service agents a brief nod and pushed open the heavy door. He hated hospitals and the sooner he was out of here, the better. They had some serious rebuilding work to do if they were to make their home on the island of Elysium secure again, and he couldn’t wait to start.
Inside, the room was bright and sunlight flooded in through the slats of a metal venetian blind. Sitting on the bed, Alex Reeve turned and smiled.
“You’re late.” She frowned and tapped her wrist watch.
“I had to buy something,” he said, returning the smile. Subconsciously, he put his hand in his pocket and turned the small box over.
Alex glanced down at the little bulge in his pocket. “Woah, you are pleased to see me.”
“Funny,” Hawke said, but quickly changed the subject. “Ready to go?”
“Sure.”
He helped her off the bed and into her wheelchair. She had lost the ability to walk while on a covert CIA mission many years ago, but for a brief, shining moment she had walked again after consuming the strange elixir Hawke had found in the Tomb of Eternity.
He knew how much it had transformed her life, but then her new-found freedom had been brutally snatched away again when the elixir’s power faded and her legs had collapsed from under her. She was storming Alcatraz at the time; it was during what they had come to call Operation Aztec Prophecy, and ever since that terrible day she had once again been confined to her wheelchair.
Seeing her like this ripped Hawke in two, and in many ways he felt offering her the elixir was a mistake. Not only had they been unable to work out exactly how it worked, but in drinking the strange, sparkling liquid, Alex had been given a sharp reminder of what it was like to walk again. When its mystical power drifted away and she had lost the ability to use her legs all over again, the pain she must have felt would have been unbearable, and he knew that was his fault.
And yet she had never once complained about it or blamed him. Now, she looked up at him and gave him that famous smile of hers — curious, knowing and intelligent.
She looked around the room. The smell of industrial disinfectant drifted through the dust motes. “Just checking I have everything.”
Hawke nodded. “What about your suitcase?”
“With the agents outside.”
“What were their names again?”
“Brandon and Justin.”
Hawke sighed. “Remind me again — which one’s your new shadow?”
“Brandon.”
“Which one’s he — little or large?”
“Large.”
“I thought they were supposed to blend in? He’s ten feet tall.”
Alex rolled her eyes. “He’s six foot six — one inch taller than his father.”
“He told you that?”
“No, I read it in his tea leaves.”
“I thought you said you’d convinced your dad that this wasn’t necessary?” he said, and paused to consider the casual way he referred to the President of the United States as “your dad”. He couldn’t believe how much his life had changed since he had left the Special Boat Service just a couple of short years ago. Meeting Lea Donovan in the British Museum and being drawn into the hunt for Poseidon’s trident was incredible enough, but now he was on first names with President Brooke and his daughter.
“Hey — I’m lucky I got them to agree to one. The original plan was for two.”
“I still think it’s overkill. You’ve got the ECHO team.”
“Not personally assigned to me day and night, Joe. My father’s the President of the United States. It was that or they’d never let me out of the White House. Just accept it.”
“If you say so.”
“I do say so,” she said firmly. Softening her voice, she turned once again to look at the Englishman. “Any news on Rich?”
She meant Sir Richard Eden, the founder of the ECHO team. He had been blasted into a coma when the man they knew as the Oracle had attacked Elysium.
Hawke shook his head. “Sorry, no change. Lea’s with him at the hospital in London. She’s staying at my flat.”
“All right,” she said, sounding resigned. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Hawke thought this sounded like a great idea. This was the third operation on Alex’s shoulder since she was shot back on Elysium, and he guessed she had seen enough of Fort Belvoir Community Hospital to last her several lifetimes. This latest operation was some plastic surgery to conceal the wound, and it was the end of the whole business.
As he held open the door for her, the two agents exchanged a few short words and then shook hands. Brandon McGee spoke into his palm mic, collected a small Samsonite case, and began to follow them along the corridor. Hawke felt his presence a few feet behind him and knew this was going to be a problem.
He turned to Alex. “Doesn’t it bother you?”
“What?”
He nodded over his shoulder. “Lurch.”
“No, and keep your voice down. He’s actually a pretty cool guy. Got a lot of experience.”
“Last time I checked, ECHO had almost no need at all for a basketball player.”
“He’s not in ECHO, Joe. Don’t make that mistake. He’s US Secret Service.”
They reached their car and Hawke blipped open the locks. He opened the door and took Alex’s suitcase. “In you go.”
“Wait,” Brandon said flatly.
“For what?” Hawke said.
Brandon pulled a small extendable vehicle inspection mirror from his case and began to check under the car. “Bomb checking protocol.”
Hawke sighed. “Oh, for fu-.”
“Joe,” Alex said. “Let Agent McGee do his job.”
“Of course.”
McGee snapped the mirror away and put it in the case. “Clear.”
They climbed into the chunky Escalade, with Hawke at the wheel and Alex beside him. After folding Alex’s wheelchair into the trunk, McGee sat in the back with his shaved head pushing up into the headlining velour on the car’s roof.
“Couldn’t move across a few inches, could you, Brandon?” Hawke said. “You’re blocking my mirror.”
“Sure thing.”
The entire SUV rocked as Brandon shifted across and then Hawke fired up the engine and started out on the twenty mile journey to the White House. Alex’s father, Jack Brooke, had been elected as America’s Commander-in-Chief the previous autumn and sworn in during his inauguration a few months ago. The press claimed he’d drawn record crowds to Washington that day but Brooke never mentioned it once.
Hawke watched the Virginian suburbs drift by as they cruised along I-395 north to the nation’s capital and tried to put the chaos of his life into some kind of perspective. Formerly Major Hawke of the Royal Marines Commandos and Sergeant Hawke of the Special Boat Service, he was now plain and simple Mr Hawke of the ECHO team. He was in love with Lea Donovan and ready to ask her to marry him, so life was good, but like the others he felt the long, cold shadow of the Oracle and his Athanatoi cult looming over his every waking moment.
He glanced at Alex and they exchanged a smile. They knew each other well enough to share a comfortable silence. He pushed the car over the Arlington Memorial Bridge, crossed the Potomac River and vowed never to stop until he had tracked down more of the elixir.