The Orpheus Legacy

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The historical home of Hungarian kings for centuries, Buda Castle had occupied its position on the banks of the Danube since 1265. Today, the grand baroque vision that loomed over the famous river was much newer, constructed in the late eighteenth century. As they approached it, the team were impressed by the vast and ornate complex and the green copper domes sparkling in the sunshine.

The security at the castle’s museum was lighter than they had expected, especially compared with most public buildings in Western Europe and the States. It was also busier than any of them had reckoned on and as they made their way through the meandering crowds of visitors, Lea gave a silent prayer that King Kashala hadn’t yet managed to locate Dr Benedek for Dimitrov.

After a long drive through the night they were finally able to get through to her personal assistant here at the museum. Thanks to the short phone conversation, they knew she was safe as of half an hour ago but they all understood how fast the future could come at you when a man like Kashala was on the warpath.

With Camacho and Zeke waiting back in the hire cars and Lexi sent around to the staff parking lot in case the Blood Crew turned up there, they followed the signs until they reached the section where Benedek’s office was situated. Here, Hawke posted Scarlet, Reaper, Nikolai and Kamala at the end of the staff corridor with orders to keep an eye out for any sign of approaching trouble. Then, he, Lea and Ryan walked down to the professor’s office and tapped softly on the door.

“Got your translation head on, mate?” Hawke said.

The young Londoner nodded reluctantly in reply. “But I hope her English is better than my Hungarian. When a voice sounded from inside the office, he added, “She says come in.”

They stepped inside and the professor rose from her chair. Hawke was surprised by how young she was, especially considering her long list of publications and achievements, and when she spoke, it was in flawless English. “You’re the people who phoned about the Orpheus lyre earlier today?”

“You speak English?”

“Of course. Now, are you the people who phoned my PA this morning?”

Ryan breathed a sigh of relief. “We are.”

Jazmin raised an eyebrow. “She said you were archaeologists. You don’t look much like archaeologists to me.”

Hawke raised his palms. “Maybe archaeologists was a slight exaggeration, but we work in the vague vicinity.”

“Treasure hunters or thieves?” Jazmin asked, reaching for her phone. “And should I be nervous?”

“You could say that,” Lea said. “But not because of us.”

The Hungarian woman’s eyes danced momentarily over the hessian sack Hawke held in his hands. “I don’t understand… is that the lyre?”

Lea nodded. “Yes, it is, but we can’t talk about it here. We think you could be in danger.”

“So you told my PA on the phone, but as you can see I am in perfectly good health.”

Hawke gave Jazmin Benedek the sack and she gently pulled out the lyre. As she extracted it from the sack, she handled it as if she were holding a newborn baby. “If this is authentic, we have in our presence one of the greatest discoveries of our lifetime.”

Lea looked at the professor with expectant eyes. “And is it?”

Jazmin’s eyes were fixed on the ancient instrument as she turned it over in her hands. “I think it really could be, but I must have more time to make my assessment. Forging such a thing wouldn’t be the hardest thing in the world to do.”

As she continued to study it, Hawke walked to the window and looked down the long, cobblestone footpath leading up to the museum. Clouds were gathering on the horizon and beneath them countless visitors made identifying potential mercs a hard job.

Ryan said, “I’ve looked at it too and as far as the age is concerned, I think it predates just about anything you’ll have here at the museum, but beyond that I’m struggling, especially with the lettering.”

She weighed his words and was clearly impressed. “I’ll start by telling you that this lyre is without a doubt the oldest I have ever seen in my professional life, and in my line of work that’s saying something. There’s Hellenistic, there’s Classical, there’s Minoan, and then there’s this. In my estimation this comes from the very dawn of the bronze age, making it at least around five thousand years old.”

“That recent?” Ryan said, grunting in pain when Lea elbowed him in the ribs.

“How can you tell, professor?” she asked, giving Ryan a sideways glance.

“With wooden objects we can be more certain thanks to radiocarbon dating, but sadly when assessing metalwork we can’t be as precise. However, the fact it’s made of bronze means it was made before the discovery of how to produce iron, plus some of the design work and the religious references also help in the assessment.”

“And the letters?” Ryan asked.

Jazmin gave him a resigned shrug. “They’re odd, but not completely unknown to me. They remind me a great deal of Cretan hieroglyphics, only so much cruder.” She thought about what she had said for a moment, and then raised the lyre closer to her face as she peered down at it through her glasses. “Similar symbols are also etched into the rear of the soundbox, see here?”

Lea leaned in. “They’re very faint.”

Holding the ancient instrument by the tailpiece and crossbar, Jazmin nodded in agreement and gave a wistful sigh before looking up to her with a frown on her face. “Where did you get this piece?”

Hawke stepped up. “It was discovered yesterday in the Aegean. Brought to the surface by a diving team working for a Belgian treasure hunter and antiquity collector by the name of Guy Francken.”

She looked at him sharply. “Just yesterday?”

He nodded. “But he’s not giving us the full story. He says this is dangerous but won’t elaborate. Can you help us?”

She paused a beat and took a long, deep breath. “There are rumours, legends really,” she began quietly. “Legends about the existence of Hades.”

Hawke and Lea caught one another’s eye, then the battle-worn Irishwoman turned back to the Hungarian archaeologist. “As in hell?”

Jazmin shrugged. “This depends on how you want to translate the concept of Hades.”

“Why don’t we start with your translation?” Hawke said.

“Hades was originally a god in the ancient Greek religion. He was king of the Underworld which also shared his name.”

“So Hades was both the king of the Underworld and the Underworld itself?” Lea asked.

“Yes. And crucial to the understanding of Hades the place is the rivers. The ancient Greeks believed there were six rivers that could be seen both in our world and in the afterlife. The most famous of these is the Styx.”

“Even I have heard of that one,” Lea said.

“They believed that the Underworld’s entrance was guarded by the personifications of various human conditions — grief, disease, old age, anxiety, need, agony and so on. To get into the Underworld, you would of course have to go through one of these states.”

“But where was this entrance?” Hawke said. “Not that I’m planning on going on a weekend break there or anything.”

“No one knows,” Jazmin said. “And most don’t believe it even exists.”

“But you do.”

She hesitated again. “I have an open mind. I am not about to destroy my reputation in the academy by saying I believe in Hades, but saying I believe in a place that the ancients called Hades is different, no?”

“All the same to me, doc,” said Lea.

A short tap on the door and Jazmin called the person in. They turned to see Nikolai step into the office’s tense atmosphere and walk calmly over to Hawke. Glancing at Jazmin and back to Hawke, he flicked his head to indicate he wanted to speak with the Englishman in private.

“Excuse me, professor,” Hawke said, and walked with Nikolai outside into the corridor.

“We’ve got a problem.” The Russian’s voice was a whisper, but strong and level.

“What’s up?”

“A Yukon just pulled up in the parking lot. Looks like they’re heading for the main entrance.”

“Dimitrov’s thugs or the Blood Crew?”

“I think a mix of both, so take your pick. Either way there’s going to be big trouble.”

Hawke stepped back into the office and gave Lea and Ryan a knowing look they instantly understood. Turning to Jazmin, he said, “Is there another way out of here beside the main route at the end of the corridor?”

She gave a hesitant nod. “A fire door. It’s on the way to the main office in the opposite direction — but why?”

“We’ll do a Q & A session later, but for now that’s where we’re going.” He snatched up the lyre, stuffed it in the hessian sack and walked back over to the door. Peering outside and checking the coast was clear, he looked over his shoulder and gave her a reassuring smile. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Might be too late to avoid that,” Ryan said.

“I need my computer and my flash drive,” Jazmin said, snatching up a laptop case.

Ryan held out his hand. “I’ll carry it for you. You might need to run.”

She hesitated, and then handed it over to him. “I don’t believe this is happening.”

Scarlet, Reaper and Kamala turned the corner and appeared in the corridor, guns drawn and walking at full pace toward them.

“Another Yukon just pulled up,” Scarlet said. “And the problem is, there are hundreds of visitors all over the place, Joe. We start a shooting match in here and innocent people are going to get killed.”

Jazmin gasped. “We must call the police at once!”

“It’s too late for that,” Lea said. “We need to get back to the cars.”

The Hungarian ran a panicked hand through her hair and tried to calm herself. “Just how dangerous are these people?” she asked.

They heard the sound of people screaming at the end of the staff corridor, and then what sounded like a stampede. Then they saw shadows streaking along the corridor as their pursuers drew closer. When they turned the corner, Kashala and Mukendi were at the vanguard, Kalashnikovs slung over their shoulder.

“About that dangerous,” Ryan said.

Scarlet drew her gun. “Guess that explains the screaming.”

“Not here, Cairo,” Hawke said. “We need to draw them away from the museum.”

Padding along the corridor, Kashala pulled the weapon from his shoulder and pointed it at them. “ECHO! Return what you stole and I will let you live!”

“Is he for real?” Kamala asked.

Lea started to walk backwards to the fire exit. “As real as any other nightmare.”

They watched the men striding down the corridor and reaching for their weapons. “Channelling the Reservoir Dogs aesthetic,” said Scarlet. “If only they could pull it off it would be so much more impressive.”

“Come on,” Ryan said. “We still have a chance to get out of here without any shooting.”

Scarlet snorted. “Aww, you’re so cute.”

Hawke drew his gun but kept the safety catch on. Still walking together, they made their way along the corridor when Lexi jogged over to them from the other end. “Another car has just pulled up around back in the staff parking lot.”

Lea squeezed her gun’s grip and feared the worst. “Then we’re surrounded.”

“Hawke!” The Congolese mercenary spat the word out like it was curse. “Hand it over. I know who you are.”

“And we know who you are,” Hawke called back.

“Then you should be terrified.”

Behind him, Crombez gave Reaper a look, but the Frenchman ignored it. Then the Congolese general opened fire, raking automatic bullets along the floor and blasting the tiles to pieces.

When Hawke brought up his Glock and returned fire, Jazmin Benedek screamed and clamped her hands over her ears. Her world of quiet academic enquiry had been savagely blasted away and replaced by gun smoke and nine mil jackets spitting out of an ejector port inches from her head.

Realizing they were dangerously exposed, Hawke grabbed Jazmin by the arm, located the fire door she had described and dragged her over to it. “We’re out of here.”

And then all hell was unleashed.