The King's Tomb

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The next day, Athens was like a dream. Blazing sun, blue sky and the streets were busy and hot. Cars and mopeds sped through the arteries of the city like blood keeping the entire place thriving and energized. On the sidewalks outside cafés people argued and shared jokes and laughed and haggled. Tourists sauntered around snapping pictures on their phones and cameras. Hawke envied them, wishing he could kick back with a coffee and enjoy the city instead of fighting through whatever the day had in store for him and the rest of his team.

The Plaka district was heaving with activity and the air was thick with fumes from the heavy traffic. It mingled with the hot sunshine and exotic aromas drifting out of the restaurants, reminding Hawke that life went on and one day they might be able to have one of their own, to join the human race again and enjoy the simple pleasures on offer in a place like this.

Despite the pressures, the team seemed to be on good form. Kim and Camacho were talking about old times, Scarlet and Lexi were teasing Ryan about his latest tattoo and Lea and Devlin were sharing a joke. He had learned his lesson in that department and believed Lea when she had told him she loved him. He glanced at his watch, looked up at the café and sighed. “What the hell is he doing?”

Talk of the Devil, Hawke thought. Reaper stepped out of the nearby café with a Greek coffee and a lit rolled-up cigarette hanging off his lower lip. He winced when he sipped at the strong, black brew and then took a long drag on the cigarette. “I’m not alive until I do this,” he said, blinking hard in the daylight.

The team crossed the busy road at the lights and continued on their way to the National Archaeological Museum. Like the ancient city all around it, the impressive neoclassical building was an important part of ECHO’s world.

Inside, they fanned out and systematically searched through the ancient artefacts and relics until they found what they were looking for. Except, they never did. Hawke expanded the search to include objects from other cultures much further afield than what seemed likely, but still they came up with nothing.

He took a moment out, watching the team as they checked and double-checked for the shield. The idea that they had come this far only to fail in this way was totally unacceptable. Ryan had assured him that the shield described by Julius before his death was in this museum and he knew better than to doubt the young hacker. His mind was like a labyrinth of esoteria and facts and that combined with his eidetic memory made arguing with him a mistake.

Usually.

But what if this time he had screwed up? There was no sign of a shield matching the description given by Julius in the NAM website, after all. They had travelled all the way here from Pretoria purely on Ryan’s hunch, a faded memory he claimed he had about seeing the shield here.

Flying here from South Africa had cost them a lot of time and resources. Keeping a Gulfstream in the air for that many hours wasn’t cheap, either. To think the whole thing had been a mistake wasn’t a thought he wanted to dwell on. But if Ryan had cocked up, it would give Scarlet at least another year’s worth of material to mock him with.

There was always that.

Ryan walked over to him, hands in pockets and a frown on his face. “I’m sure it was here. I know I saw it in a guidebook once.”

“Heads up,” Lea said. “Curator’s on the deck.”

The curator was a small man with diffused, thinning hair stretched over a tanned scalp in an impressive combover. He was wearing a neat, pale brown suit and polished shoes and fidgeted when he moved. Under his nose was a thick, black waxed moustache which curled up at the end and instantly reminded Hawke of Poirot. Looking across at Lea, he saw she had made the same observation. She stifled a chuckle and had to turn away from him to stop laughing.

After introducing himself as Panos Theodorakis, he said, “Can I help you, please?”

“I hope so,” Ryan said, describing the shield. “Do you have that here?”

“I’m impressed you are even aware of such an artefact,” he said. “The Shield of Pridwen has not been on display since 1941 and has never been included on our website. Its image was included in some of the earlier museum guidebooks printed before the war, but these were not very high-quality images and as far as I know there are very few of these publications left in print and they were only ever printed in Greek. Do you have one of these guides?”

Ryan shook his head.

“Then you must have an exceptional memory.”

“He does,” Lea said. “It’s actually quite terrifying, especially when you get into an argument with him. It’s like arguing with a computer database of uncomfortable facts.”

“You said that the shield hasn’t been on display since 1941,” Hawke said.

“That’s correct. As you may know, when the front finally fell and the Nazis invaded my country, we moved as many of our most precious artefacts to hiding places around Greece to stop the invaders getting their hands on them.”

“We did the same,” Ryan said. “Much of the contents of British museums and art galleries were hidden in Welsh mines and caves.”

“Exactly, so,” Theodorakis said. “We did what we had to do to stop those monsters plundering the riches of our lands. You used what you had — the mines and caves of Wales — and we used what we had. We moved many of our priceless relics to places such as the ancient tombs at Delphi on the north coast of the Gulf of Corinth. Other sites included the caves beneath the Acropolis or right here.”

“Right here?”

“Yes, in the museum. Beneath our feet is a maze of hidden underground chambers interconnected by ancient tunnels. When the Nazis broke through the front and advanced on Athens many of the treasures you see around you were transported to this secret underground system. Very few people know this history and even fewer are aware of the secret underground sections here in our museum.”

Theodorakis’s phone buzzed. He checked the tiny screen and a look of confusion grew on his face. “Please, excuse me.”

He put the phone to his ear and lowered his voice. A hurried, panicked conversation followed and then he turned to Hawke, visibly growing paler. “It seems we might have a major incident here in the city.”

“A major incident?” Scarlet asked.

The curator looked terrified. “A terror attack on the Parthenon. We have to get everyone to safety!”

“The Parthenon is sitting on top of the Acropolis, right?” Kim said.

“Of course,” said Theodorakis.

“You said there were caves under the Acropolis and an underground system beneath the museum right here, right?”

He gave a brief nod and looked like he was going to throw up. “This is unbelievable.”

“Professor,” Scarlet said, snapping her fingers in front of his face to get his attention. “Are the caves under the Parthenon and your underground facilities here at the museum linked together by tunnels?”

His eyes widened as he realized what she was driving at. “Yes, they are.”

“We need to get down there mate, and fast,” Hawke said.