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Vetrov saw the look of fear in her eyes and beamed. “Ah! You see, this is just my way of having fun. The crocodile is not treated with the respect it deserves by most people, but I know the truth — I know they are divine. This is my way of righting these wrongs. In making these offerings to the crocodile I restore a sense of balance to the universe.”

Alex’s breathing speeded up and she began to see stars. She could hardly believe what was happening to her. This man — this Maxim Vetrov, was clearly completely insane, and yet here she was trapped in his madness, and totally at his mercy. She had known danger in the CIA, but nothing like this.

She grew almost unable to control her fear. As far as she knew, the one man she had asked for help — Joe Hawke — was now in New York with nothing to go on but her trashed apartment. How he could he rescue her when not even she knew where she was? Maybe she should have contacted her father, but then the thought simply hadn’t occurred to her. As far as she was concerned, she had no father. He probably didn’t even care about her.

“You look scared, my dear… please — there is no need. I simply want information, and then you will be released, like a bird from a cage. I am not a monster, after all. Raise her!”

Kosma’s massive arms heaved on the hand chain and the sound of the steel links sliding taut filled the otherwise silent room. She felt a jerk as the chain tugged against the weight of her chair, and watched the giant Russian heave harder to compensate. A second later she felt herself lift slowly off the ground and begin to sway slightly as Vetrov’s henchman grunted with the effort of lifting her over the enclosure fence.

“My good man here will be lowering you into that water in a few moments. He will do this as a matter of course and he will not stop until I tell him to. I will not tell him to stop until you tell me the true identity of the mysterious Mercurio.”

“I…I…”

Her head began to spin as she swayed back and forth above the water. Was all this really happening? A few hours ago she had been safe in her Manhattan loft apartment, researching what she had first thought was harmless esoterica. Then she had begun to realize that maybe there was something to it… then came her contact with Mercurio and now this. Her cozy world of disco albums and ice cream and romantic movies had been replaced by this terror — a Russian giant heaving her over a crocodile pit — the stench of chain lubricant and the sight of Maxim Vetrov smiling as her worst nightmare became real.

She thought once again about Joe Hawke, and how far away he was. She thought about all the times she had talked him through hells like this while she had been so safe back in her mission control, surrounded by the things that comforted her and made her feel secure while all the time he had been on the ground risking his life. The swaying of the elevated chair started to make her feel sick.

“As you can see, Kosma is now lowering you into the water. I estimate you have less than sixty seconds until you become acquainted with the crocodiles, and sadly for you, you have not been prepared for entry into the afterlife. This is your end-time.”

She began to hyperventilate. “Why are you doing this to me?!”

“Mercurio’s real identity, please. Thirty seconds.”

She knew this was the end unless she gave him what he wanted. She had heard stories about CIA colleagues going to their graves before giving top secret information to enemy agents, but she knew she couldn’t do it. She just didn’t have it in her, and a wave of shame crossed her mind.

She thought about her mother back in New York who probably didn’t even know she had been kidnapped. She would never know the truth about her daughter’s disappearance… she thought about her father once again, the man she had loved more than anyone when she was growing up, but whom she hadn’t spoken to for more years than she could remember. The last thing she had told him to do was go to hell… She couldn’t leave the world like this.

“Mazzarro!” she screamed, her bulging eyes staring down past her feet at the circling crocodiles a few yards below her. “Mercurio’s real name is Dario Mazzarro. He’s an amateur Egyptologist from Venice, in Italy. Please! Please don’t do this to me!” She broke down in tears at the thought of selling out Dario Mazzarro like this, but she knew she had no choice.

Vetrov smiled and spoke in rapid Russian to Kosma. A second later the giant ceased lowering her and tied off the chain, leaving her suspended a few yards above the enclosure.

She gasped in terror at the betrayal. “What are you doing?! I gave you what you wanted! You said you’d release me!”

She swung helplessly back and forth above the circling crocodiles.

“My dear, it is now necessary for me to check the quality of the information you have given me. I don’t know about the CIA, but in the KGB we are taught never to trust information until it has been verified. You will remain where you are until I have checked out this Dario Mazzarro of Venice.” As he spoke he made a phone call and began to speak into his phone.

Below her, Alex saw a slight ripple in the water and then two black nostril holes emerging from the dark surface. Less than a second later a gigantic crocodile was propelling itself from the water with startling velocity toward her. She thought it was going to reach her as its vile jaws snapped shut with a terrifyingly heavy crunch that made her jump. She screamed and began to spin around in tiny circles in the suspended chair.

“Don’t worry so much, Miss Reeve. They are just playing with you. Seeing who can jump the highest. Take the time to study their beautiful form.” He continued speaking on the phone for a few more moments and then disconnected the call.

“It seems you were being truthful, young Alex. There is indeed a Dario Mazzaro in Venice, and according to my people he is heavily engaged in researching ancient Egypt. Even better news — that was my man Kamchatka. After the egregious error of killing only Sorokin at the airport, he has redeemed himself and located the Chinese assassin who is, unless I am very much mistaken, in possession of the Map of Immortality.”

“She’ll never let you get your filthy hands on that map, Vetrov.”

“Your invaluable naming of Dr Mazzarro, plus the map, my dear, means only one thing — I will be able to find the source of eternal life, wherever it is in this world, and the elixir of immortality will be mine!”

“You’re just as crazy as all the others.”

He shot her a devilish glance. “I think not, Alex. Where countless men before me have failed, I am succeeding. You see, I have a greater knowledge than any of the others. Where they fumbled in the darkness with only the faintest glimmer of vain hope to light their way, I know the darkest truth of all, and it is that very darkness which will lead me to the elixir.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I know they are real.”

She stared at the Russian billionaire in despair and confusion. “Who are real?”

Vetrov laughed, pushed his hands into his pockets and walked casually to the window. “You’ll be gone soon enough, so I suppose I can tell you, if you will only indulge my vanity. I’m talking about the Athanatoi, Miss Reeve.”

“The who?”

Vetrov laughed again, but this time a much deeper, belly laugh. “I see I have the advantage! But then that is a pleasure enjoyed by many senior ranking former KGB men.”