Dmitri grinned. He was free and for the first time in decades he knew who had the Death Mask. He burst past the opening of the mine shaft and then stopped and raised his hands above his head — because a large helicopter stood on its skids facing him and out the door stood a man pointing a Browning heavy machine gun at him.
Chapter Fifty-One
Billie woke up lying next to the cool stream.
Her lips curved upward in a warm smile. It was the same as last time. The same as all of the previous times. Like waking up the day after a long night of drinking, where the events after the first drink were a mystery. Only it was completely different, too. She felt a sense of accomplishment, although of what, she couldn’t quite remember, yet. Her muscles felt sore, but invigorated, as though they had been working hard and now she was somehow stronger.
The euphoria was there, too.
She’d never taken illicit drugs. Not out of righteousness or anything like that, simply because she’d never felt the need. Some people have an addictive personality, and she wasn’t one of those. Billie thought about that while she lay there on the side of the river, basking in a sensation of true bliss. She could leave this anytime she wanted, couldn’t she?
Maybe she did have an addictive personality, after all?
Billie stood up to find some food. She always felt incredibly hungry after the Black Smoke had taken her. She glanced at her wristwatch. Could it really have been three days this time? She ignored the nagging question, knowing full well she didn’t want to know the answer. The durations were getting longer, as though someone knew the preparations were approaching their deadline soon.
She took a deep breath in and smiled. She would stay here until the Black Smoke had completed its task, and no longer had a use for her.
Life was good.
Billie felt into her shirt where her ivory pendant hung for comfort. She gasped and swallowed the fear that rose in her throat like bile — because her grandfather’s ancient pendant was missing.
Chapter Fifty-Two
As the helicopter flew due west toward the Maria Helena, Sam slowly reassembled his Heckler and Koch MP5. Opposite him, now with his hands and feet bound by cable ties was the man he’d met inside the Kalahari pyramid. The man’s violet eyes were fixed in a vacant stare, as though inside the mind was set in a constant disillusionment about how he lost.
Sam recalled the warning on the mahogany table inside the Emerald Star. The last thing a dead man ever wrote — Don’t let the man with the purple eyes have the Death Skull.
He kept his eyes on the man throughout the entire flight, but both men remained silent. Not that they could have spoken if they’d wanted to with the engine and rotary wing drowning out any words.
When the helicopter finally landed on board the Maria Helena, Tom dragged the man out on to the ship’s aft deck. It was open without anywhere to run or hide.
Sam made a show of loading the final bullet into the magazine and then clipped the magazine into the chamber. “Okay, let’s start with your name.”
The man had a curious look on his face as he studied those aboard. “Dmitri.”
“Dmitri who?”
“Just Dmitri.” The man glanced around the ship. “Where are you taking me?”
“To place the Death Mask into its slot on top of Mount Ararat and turn the key.”
Dmitri shrugged. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Sam said, “The key to the Third Temple.”
Dmitri started to laugh. “Oh, this is rich. You have no idea what’s going on here, do you?”
Tom hit him in the gut. “A good friend of mine is being held prisoner in the Third Temple, so we’re not in the mood for your jokes. Tell us what you know.”
Dmitri breathed gently, as though the punch had barely winded him. “I can tell you one thing for certain.”
“Go on,” Tom said.
“Your friend isn’t being held prisoner in the Third Temple.” He then smiled. It was one of those looks like I know something you don’t know and you’re not going to like it. “No one is, yet.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Sam asked.
“It means I can’t help you find your friend.”
Sam thought about pushing him, but guessed Dmitri wasn’t the sort of person who caved under pressure. “All right. Next question, why did you kill Peter?”
“Peter who?”
“Smyth. The man who you killed to find the pyramid in the Kalahari Desert.”
“Peter’s dead?” There was surprise in his eyes, but no remorse or loss.
“You killed him.”
“No. It must have been one of the OTHERS.”
“What others?”
“One of the Four Horsemen.”
Sam considered the possibility. He’d already met Famine. That meant there were three more out there. He turned to Dmitri and asked, “What other name do you go by?”
“Ah… a good question.” Dmitri smiled. “Some call me Death.”
“If you didn’t kill Peter, how did you find the pyramid?”
“I paid a guy earlier this year to search for the pyramid. A guy called Leo Dietrich, an expert hunter in the region, to search the Kalahari for signs of the pyramid. Once he’d finished building the tunnel in, he contacted me and I came to get what I needed.”
“What did you need?”
“An address. I didn’t get around to finding it, because you and your friend got in my way. But not to bother, by the sounds of things I don’t need it anymore.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re taking me to the temple on the top of Mount Ararat.”
“What is this all about?”
“I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t want to tell you, but I’ve made a promise not to tell anyone. Not now, not even in the end.”
Sam looked up, and noticed Elise walk onto the deck.
As per normal, she omitted any pleasantries and jumped straight into business. “I’ve had a sample of the black soot analyzed by a leading neurologist in Boston.”
“And?”
“You’re not going to like what she had to say.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
Sam read the report and then looked at Elise for clarity. He handed it to Tom to read, and then turned to Elise. “You want to explain this to me as though I’m not a chemical engineer or a neurologist?”
Elise smiled as though she’d been expecting just such a response. “All right. I sent the powder to a toxicologist for a report, who said it was something extraordinary he’d never seen before and consequently he sent it on to a leading neurologist to determine what sort of effect such a chemical make-up might have on the human brain.”
Sam asked, “He’d never seen it at all, or hadn’t seen it in combination with whatever was there?”
“Never seen it before, but you’ll never guess what it’s most similar to.”
“Okay, I probably won’t. What?”
“Lysergic acid diethylamide.”
“What?” Sam asked again.
“Didn’t you go to university?” Elise teased. “LSD.”
“The Death Mask is filled with LSD?”
“Not exactly.”
“What do you mean, then?”
“LSD was first made by Albert Hofmann in Switzerland in 1938 from ergotamine, a chemical from the fungus ergot.”