The Atlantis revelation

10

Serena was alarmed to see Mercedes come up from the lower gardens alone and immediately went out on the terrace to search for Conrad, to no avail. She did, however, find Packard by the stone balustrade with a drink in his hand.

"What are you doing, Mr. Secretary?" she demanded. "Where's Conrad?"

"Elvis has apparently left the building," Packard told her. "And Midas doesn't look too happy."

Serena followed his gesture toward the statue of Apollo, where Midas seemed to be having a low-key but sharp exchange with Mercedes.

"Guess Midas just figured out that you're not the only woman here tonight who has a past with Yeats," said Packard, taking another sip of his drink. "Now, what's up in the Arctic?"

Serena tore her eyes away from Midas and looked at Packard. "Midas is prepping to mine it for the Russians."

"You sure it's for the Russians?"

"Who else?" Serena asked.

Packard finished his drink. "Your friends in the Alignment."

Serena looked out over the bay, where she could see Midas's yacht sparkling on the waters. "I have no friends in the Alignment," she told him. "Only enemies."

"But thanks to your corrupt holy order, Dominus Dei, of which you are now the head, you are by definition one of the Thirty."

Serena took a deep breath. "And as soon as I figure out who the rest are, I'll let you know."

"You were talking to one of them."

"Midas?" she said. "How do you know he's not just working for them?"

"He knows too much," Packard said. "More than you, it seems. Financial records in London show that Midas's trading firm went long on oil and gold futures this morning. If he really expected the Russians to succeed in the Arctic, he'd be shorting oil on the expectation that a new supply would depress global prices. Instead, he's betting on a spike in prices."

"Interesting," Serena said. "Midas must be anticipating a disruption in oil production."

"Or some other event that would shoot up the price of oil. Maybe a major war."

"So he knows something we don't," she said, and then she realized something. "And so does Conrad."

"You should fix that."

"Listen, I told you about Midas's operations in the Arctic. Have you given any thought to returning that celestial globe to the Vatican?"

"Have you given any thought to returning the terrestrial globe you stole?" Packard shot back.

"We've been over this, Mr. Secretary. The Masons inherited them from the Knights Templar."

"Who in turn stole them from Solomon's Temple," said Packard. "So maybe we give them both back to the Israelis."

Serena sighed. "Along with another American weapons system, perhaps? That will help the situation in the Middle East."

"The only thing you can do to help the Middle East and the rest of the world is to give us the real names and faces of the Alignment's so-called Thirty," Packard said. "Before Yeats finds out you're one of them. Get busy. Here comes Midas." Packard walked away as Midas approached her.

"Was that the former U.S. secretary of defense?" Midas asked Serena innocently enough.

"Yes," she said. "Confessing all his country's sins. Do you have any confessions you want to share?"

"Actually, I was looking for Dr. Yeats. He seems to have disappeared."

There was a feigned playfulness in Midas's voice, but his eyes were hard. He was lying, she realized. Midas knew exactly where Conrad was.

"So has Mercedes," she said, and his smile vanished.

Midas said, "She had a headache. Dr. Yeats upset her."

"He has that effect on women," Serena said when her Vertu phone rang with the song "He's a Tramp" from Disney's old Lady and the Tramp cartoon. "Speak of the devil."

Midas cocked his head and narrowed his eyes with suspicion as she took the call.

Conrad's voice, breathless, filled her ear: "Have Benito pick me up in front of the Andros Palace Hotel in Corfu town in two hours. I need to hitch a ride with you on your jet."

"We're all here for three more days," she said, eyeing Midas.

"I don't think these Bilderbergers like talking to police," Conrad said. "They're all going to scram before they give any statements about what they saw."

"I'm not sure I understand."

"Take a look out at the Midas in the bay. She sure looks like a beauty out there on the water, all lit up."

Serena glanced at Midas, then out at the water. "Yes, she does."

Suddenly, the superyacht blew up into the night sky like fireworks, drawing gasps from the crowd on the terrace. An explosion like thunder rolled over the bay. Midas crushed his glass in his fist. Wine and blood dribbled through his fingers. Serena watched his face twist into a monstrous mask of rage as the glowing debris of his beloved ship rained down upon the waters.