The Secret of Excalibur

Hunching down out of Mitchell’s line of fire, Chase climbed on to the platform and examined the clamp round Nina’s hands to find a catch. He pushed it; the restraint sprang open. Nina pulled out her hands and Excalibur’s light instantly disappeared. But the generator kept working, electricity zapping angrily around the hold. She reached into the frame to release the sword, unlocking the clamp holding it in place.

‘What’re you doing?’ Chase demanded.

‘We can’t let Jack have it! He was going to blow up the Enterprise.’

He looked confused. ‘The starship?’

‘Yes, the starship,’ she snapped sarcastically. ‘The aircraft carrier! He was going to blame it on the Russians to start a war!’ The clamp open, she pulled Excalibur from the frame, the blade lighting up once more. ‘Oh, shit!’

Chase saw Mitchell running towards them, not far away now - but his line of fire was still partially blocked by sections of the generator. ‘He won’t shoot the mag—’

Mitchell fired.

Some of the spray of bullets bounced off the generator, but they didn’t damage it, hitting with dull thumps rather than sharp metallic cracks.

Others hit softer targets.

Chase felt as though he’d been kicked in the stomach. Another painful blow slammed into his right shoulder as he was knocked backwards, instantly numbing the limb. Nina took a glancing impact to her side, her injured leg buckling. She lost her balance and fell off the platform. Excalibur skittered away across the deck.

Plastic bullets, Chase realised - the XM-201’s non-lethal ammunition option. Gasping, he rolled over, right arm hanging limply. He gripped the now-empty frame that had held Excalibur with his left and began to haul himself up.

Mitchell’s boot smashed into his back, felling him again. The American jumped on to the platform and delivered another vicious kick, then clubbed him with the rifle. ‘Come on, you fucker!’ he screamed. Another kick. Chase groaned in pain. ‘See who’s the best now, won’t we?’

He stamped on Chase’s chest, grinding a heel into his ribs. Breathless, Chase tried to twist out from under him, but with only one arm couldn’t get enough leverage. Mitchell loomed over him, huge electrical arcs crackling around the ring above him like a malevolent halo.

But Chase wasn’t finished yet.

With a strangled roar, he smashed his fist into the only vulnerable target he could reach, the back of Mitchell’s knee. Mitchell lurched forward as his leg bent, and Chase delivered another punch, this time straight up between his legs into his groin.

Mitchell doubled over with a groan, stumbling against the frame. The pressure on Chase’s chest eased and he rolled from the platform to the deck. He looked up—

A boot smashed into his face, cracking the back of his head against the floor. Sickening stars exploded in his vision. Mitchell’s foot stamped down again, this time on his left forearm. Agony erupted from the old wound. Chase screamed.

Mitchell brought up the rifle and aimed it into Chase’s face.

He switched the ammo selector. No plastic bullets this time, just pure metallic death as his mouth contorted into a sadistic leer of victory.

A flash of light filled Chase’s eyes.

35

But it wasn’t from the gun’s muzzle.

Instead it was a streak of brilliant blue-white that sliced down to chop the XM-201 cleanly in two. The front half of the rifle barely missed Chase’s head as it clattered to the deck - with Mitchell’s severed right hand still clenching the grip.

‘How’s that for a flesh wound?’ Nina shouted.

Mitchell screamed, clutching the stump of his wrist as blood fountained from it. He stumbled back against the frame.

Nina swung Excalibur again. The blazing sword stabbed straight through Mitchell’s abdomen and embedded itself deeply into the carbon fibre frame behind him, only stopping when the cross-guard hit his stomach. She let go - and the weapon’s glow vanished, leaving him transfixed, unable to pull the blade out of the frame.

‘You wanted power?’ cried Nina, hobbling to the platform’s control panel. ‘Try fifty million volts!’

She hit the button.

The platform started to ascend towards the fierce bolts of earth energy lancing back and forth within the magnetic ring. ‘No!’ Mitchell shrieked, desperately tugging at the hilt with his remaining hand. It didn’t move. ‘No!’

He crossed the streams.

The entire ring lit up with a surging storm of lightning. Mitchell burst into flames, instantly incinerated by the concentrated power searing through his body. More electrical arcs spat outwards, burning into the walls and ceiling with blinding force.

Nina pulled Chase aside as a bolt hit the controls, blowing the machinery to pieces. The platform plunged back down in a column of fire, scattering debris in all directions.

More explosions shook the hold. ‘Are you okay, Eddie?’

He spat out blood. ‘Right as rain.’ A siren wailed, echoing through the vast space. ‘I think we should be fucking off home about now.’

‘No arguments there.’ As Chase stood, Nina saw Excalibur lying amongst the smoking remains of the platform. The blade lit up again as she lifted it and shook off a lump of what looked horribly like barbecued ribs.

Chase put an arm round her waist to support her. ‘Let’s go!’

More energy stabbed at the walls as they made their way back down the hold. The few people still alive in the control room had gone; the siren was apparently an evacuation warning. One of the magnetic rings behind them tore from its supports and fell to the floor with enough force to shake the entire room. Other components blew apart, sections of the supporting framework collapsing.

An especially bright flash was followed by an ominous creak of metal. ‘Oh, that can’t be good,’ said Nina, looking back at a molten spray spitting from a gash down one side of the hold.

Chase held her more tightly as he increased his pace towards the exit. ‘I think we’re about to get wet.’

‘Not again!’

The gash burst open, metal peeling back like tin foil as seawater spewed into the hold, thousands of gallons of freezing Arctic water rushing through the widening gap. The air filled with explosions of sparks as the generator shorted out.

Fire above, water below, a wave surging along the hold after Chase and Nina as they raced for the exit. Pain stabbed through Nina’s leg with every step, but she forced herself onwards. She could hear it thundering towards them like a tsunami, about to sweep them away—

They reached the hatch. Chase flung Nina through just as the wave hit, a chill spray biting at them as the water dashed against the bulkhead. He braced himself and pushed his back against the hatch to force it shut against the force of the flood. It clunked against the frame; Nina dragged herself up and pulled the lever to secure it. She slumped to the deck, panting.

‘Sorry, love,’ said Chase, taking her by the waist again and leading her along the corridor, ‘but we can’t hang about.’ He nodded at the sword. ‘Why don’t you leave that thing, let it go down with the boat?’

‘They could still find it if they salvage the ship.’

‘Fair enough. But how about I keep hold of it? That way I don’t have to worry about you accidentally chopping off my leg.’

She handed the sword to him as they reached a flight of stairs leading upwards. Despite her best efforts to keep the weight off her injured leg, Nina still winced in pain at every step. ‘Ow, oh, ow! Son of a - oh, if Jack wasn’t dead I’d kill him again!’

‘I didn’t say thanks for that, by the way,’ said Chase.

‘You don’t need to.’

‘Yeah, I do! You saving my life isn’t something I ever want to get all blasé about.’

‘In which case, thank you for saving me - again! What’s that, ten times now?’

‘Altogether, or just this time?’

‘Y’know, most couples don’t actually lose count of that kind of thing . . .’

They kept climbing. More creaks echoed through the ship, distant thumps of explosions still rolling up from the hold. And there was another noise, an engine . . .

‘Fuck!’ said Chase. ‘There goes the chopper.’

‘Well, it’s not as though we could have flown it. And hijacking it might have been a problem without any guns.’

‘I’ve got a bloody sword! Just hope there’s some boats left.’

They finally reached the level of the main deck. By now it was clear the ship was beginning to sink, tipping down at the bow. Chase opened a hatch and stepped out into the cold wind, leaving Nina leaning against the bulkhead. ‘Shit!’ The lifeboat davit was empty, cables hanging limply down to the water. Below, a large orange boat bobbed away from the freighter, a strobe light blinking on its fibreglass roof.

He hurried across the deck to check the opposite side. The other boat was still on its cables, almost in the water. He could have jumped on to the nearest cable and shinned down into the boat, but Nina couldn’t, not with her leg.

‘What is it?’ Nina asked as he ran back to her.

‘You saw Titanic, right?’

‘Oh . . .’

They both lurched as the Aurora shuddered. The tilt of the deck was now more apparent, and increasing.

‘Okay, okay,’ said Nina, thinking out loud, ‘we’re on a ship, with no lifeboats. There must be something else that floats. What floats?’

‘A witch,’ Chase answered. Nina gave him a surprised look. ‘What? I never said I didn’t watch any Monty Python.’

‘Great, but unless you’ve actually got a witch, and preferably her broomstick, that doesn’t help much!’

‘No broomsticks,’ said Chase with sudden hope, ‘but I know where there’s something that can fly. Wait here!’ He dropped Excalibur at her feet and ran back into the ship, sliding down the stairs on the banisters.

‘Eddie, where are you - Eddie!’ Nina shouted, but he had already gone. Frustrated, she waited for him to return. After a minute, Excalibur slowly slid along the deck to clink against the forward bulkhead.

‘Two sinking ships in three days,’ she muttered as she awkwardly bent to retrieve the sword. ‘Eddie! Whatever you’re doing, now would be a good time!’

Chase ran back up the stairs. ‘Yeah, I’m coming!’

Nina saw he was carrying what looked like a large suitcase with a harness attached. ‘What’s that?’

‘Our way off. Maybe. Come on, we need to get to the top deck.’

Five more painful flights, and Nina slumped with relief against a bulkhead - only to realise she was standing at an angle. A nearby porthole gave her a view of the antenna array, silver flowers picked out by spotlights . . . and beyond them, waves crashing over the top of the mock containers at the bow. It was the Typhoon all over again - only this time they weren’t even close to shore.

She looked back at Chase, who was fastening the harness round his body. ‘What is that thing? A parachute?’

‘More like a jetpack.’

‘A jetpack?’

‘It’s how Jack got to Vaskovich’s - I just hope it’s as easy to fly as he said. If you’re bringing the sword, there’s a compartment in the back - stick it in there. But don’t poke any holes in it!’

Nina limped to him and found the compartment’s cover, opening it and gingerly dropping Excalibur inside. The glow disappeared as she let go, the blade clanking harmlessly against the polycarbonate interior. She closed the cover as Chase secured the harness. The ship shuddered again, a mournful metallic moan running through the hull. ‘Okay,’ he said, indicating an exterior hatch, ‘get outside.’

Nina still wasn’t sure what he had in mind, but limped through it to find herself on the ship’s port wing bridge, extending out over the side of the hull. Far below, she saw one of the lifeboats moving away, an orange lozenge picked out by a flashing beacon. Ahead, the sea continued its advance over the containers. The Aurora’s stern was out of the water and rising higher, the huge freighter being dragged nose first under the black ocean.

Chase held up a length of rope. ‘Wrap this round me, and then round you. Do it a couple of times and tie it as tight as you can. Trust me,’ he added, seeing her expression.

‘Okay,’ she said dubiously, threading the rope between his lower back and the case as he fastened a small control unit round his wrist. ‘So you know how this thing works?’

‘Sort of. Jack showed me. Okay, more told me than showed me, but I got the gist.’

‘I’ll take your word for it,’ Nina said nervously. She brought the rope around herself and Chase for a second time and pulled it tight, squeezing them both together as she knotted it.

He wrapped his arms round her, plodding to the edge of the wing bridge. ‘We need to get up on the railing. Can you manage?’

‘I’ll have to, won’t I?’ Looking down as Chase lifted her, Nina used her left heel to push herself up on each bar of the railing. He followed, one heavy step at a time. She gritted her teeth as her leg wound pressed against Chase’s thigh, but managed not to cry out.

‘Good lass,’ said Chase as they balanced precariously on the top rail, leaning against a post for support. ‘Okay, let’s see if I can get this thing started.’

‘Before you do . . .’ Nina said.

‘What?’

She kissed him. ‘Just in case I don’t get another chance.’

He smiled. ‘Hey, I finally committed to a wedding date - I’m not going to bloody miss it!’ He returned the kiss, then examined the control unit as Nina clung to him. ‘Okay. Let’s see . . .’

He touched a button. The pack’s sides sprang open like the shell of a beetle taking flight, black carbon-fibre delta wings popping out and unfolding before each section then telescoped outwards with a clack.

Chase was impressed by the speed and precision of the deployment, the total wingspan almost ten feet. ‘Pretty cool. All right, engines.’ He poised his finger over the next control. ‘Hold on really tight,’ he warned Nina. ‘Because when I push this button, it’s going to feel like a kick up the arse, and we’ll go over the edge!’

Nina squeezed her eyes shut. ‘Do it.’

Chase leaned forward and pushed the button.

The four miniature jet turbines screeched to life, the heat from their exhausts instantly blistering the paint on the railing as Chase and Nina fell. The wings flexed in the wind as they dropped, picking up speed—

Downwards. They were plunging parallel to the side of the ship, decks flashing past them.

Chase shifted position, arms outstretched as he arched his back, trying to level out. If he could build up enough speed for the wings to generate lift . . .

The black water rushed towards him, patterns of light from the ship shimmering over it. Still dropping, too fast—

The reflections started to slide under him as the engines reached full thrust and drove them away from the Aurora with increasing speed.

It still wasn’t enough. They were past the level of the main deck, plummeting the final metres towards the ocean—

They levelled out, the wings abruptly bending upwards as if coming to life. Nina shrieked as the ropes pulled tight around her. Chase desperately leaned back as hard as he could, face pounded by the freezing wind rasping at his skin.

Ground effect, he realised. At very low altitudes, any kind of wing traps air between itself and the surface below, giving extra lift.

But would it be enough to keep them out of the water?

His eyes were streaming in the rising wind. Something shot past to one side: the lifeboat, a barely glimpsed blur of colour falling behind . . .

And below.

They were gaining height!

Chase strained to hold his position as Nina hung beneath him, the thrust from the engines combined with the angle of the wings just enough to put them into a shallow but steady climb. He squinted at the control unit, watching a digital altimeter gradually count upwards. Remembering how much fuel Mitchell had told him the glidewing carried, he struggled to work out how high they could go before it ran out. Nina could have done the calculations in moments, he knew, but the roar of wind and engines would have made it hard to get the information across - and from the way she was shivering, she had other things on her mind. Like temperature, and gravity.

About three thousand feet, he worked out. He would be able to see to the horizon over sixty miles away - assuming there was anything to see. Mitchell wouldn’t have wanted any other vessels close enough to observe when he fired the earth energy weapon. The question was, could they glide for long enough to reach anything that might be out there?

The glidewing kept climbing. A thousand feet, and rising. Chase felt Nina’s heartbeat thudding against his chest. Rapid, scared . . . but gradually slowing.

Not because she was calming down. Because she was starting to freeze in the bitter wind.

‘Stay with me!’ he shouted. Her hand squeezed his side. But exposure would take its toll soon enough - and even he couldn’t withstand it for ever. It had been years since he had trained for such conditions.

Minutes passed, the altimeter still rising, the jets howling. Not much fuel left. Chase wiped his eyes, realising his tears had frozen on his face. He could barely feel his own touch, nerves numbed.

Three thousand.

A red light flashed on the wrist unit. A fuel warning. One minute left, or thirty seconds, or ten? He didn’t know. But the powered part of the flight was almost over, only a long glide down into the blackness remaining . . .

Lights!

Off in the distance, a little constellation of blue and yellow. In the overcast utter darkness it was almost impossible to judge how far away it was, but Chase doubted it was anything less than twenty miles. Could the glidewing carry them that far?

No choice but to find out the hard way. He banked, lining up with the ship.

The engines stuttered, then cut out. The only noise now came from the wind.

He felt Nina’s hold on him loosening. ‘Nina, stay awake!’ he yelled. ‘There’s a ship, we can make it!’ He didn’t know if that was true, but if he’d unwittingly lied, she wouldn’t have a chance to call him on it.

The altimeter was counting down now. He leaned back as much as he could, trying to maintain height, but without the engines descent was inevitable.

Two thousand feet. The lights still distant, but getting closer, the constellation taking on tantalising form. Smaller than the Aurora, maybe nearer than Chase had thought. A trawler?

Closer. Fifteen hundred feet. Nina was now held as much by the rope as by her own efforts, grip weakening, heart slowing. He had no feeling in his face, barely any in his outstretched hands. A thousand feet. The spaces between the lights began to fill with solid colours, the ship fading in from the blackness as if in a movie. Five hundred. Closer. Four hundred, three . . .

Nina went limp. He fought to hold his position as her arms and legs dangled in the slipstream, slowing them. Two hundred, one, dropping fast—

The ship rushed at him, a mast springing out of the darkness directly ahead. Chase twisted, losing lift. Something on the deck, a pile of nets and glistening silver within. He aimed for it, last chance before overshooting and plunging into the waters beyond—

They slammed into the nets. The wings cracked and broke off, but Chase had already wrapped his arms round Nina to protect her as they slithered through a huge pile of fish, scattering freshly caught cod everywhere. The other side of the net was being winched up off the deck; they skidded up it before rolling back into the flapping shoal.

‘Bloody hell!’ Chase gasped. His sense of touch might have been numbed, but his sense of smell was working all too well. ‘Stinks!’ The net stopped. He looked round to see a group of shocked fishermen staring at him.

Nina moved feebly in his grip. ‘Nina! Are you okay? Nina!’

‘Eddie . . .’ she whispered drowsily, moving again - this time to rest her head against his chest with an expression almost of contentment, eyes closed. It didn’t last long, though. Her nose twitched, and she frowned. ‘What’s that smell?’

Chase laughed in relief, hugging her. He looked back at the trawlermen as they clambered on to the net. ‘Ay up, lads!’ he said. ‘You going anywhere near England?’

36

England

‘... So it’s my great honour to be here with the discoverer of King Arthur’s tomb, a woman who has rewritten the history books more than once . . . Dr Nina Wilde.’

‘Thank you, Prime Minister,’ said Nina, blushing at the applause as she limped to take his place at the microphone. Her wound had been treated and she had been assured of a full recovery in time, but it was less than a week since it had been inflicted, and the leg was still stiff and painful.

The small stage on which they stood had been set up at the foot of Glastonbury Tor. Behind it, a cordon marked the entrance to the tomb, a full-scale archaeological survey now under way. She looked out across the crowd, which was larger than she had expected; as well as the inevitable press corps and the entourage of police, security and bureaucrats accompanying Britain’s Prime Minister, there was also a throng of ordinary people, wanting to witness one of those rare moments when myth was revealed as fact.

But for all the faces looking up at her, Nina’s attention was fixed only on one. Chase stood near the stage. Despite all the cuts and stitches on his face, he still managed a grin as he clapped. With him were Elizabeth, Holly and his grandmother, and Mac. She smiled back, then lifted her head to the crowd.

‘Thank you,’ she repeated, waiting for the applause to die down. ‘I’m honoured to be here. But the first thing I should say is that I didn’t discover the tomb alone - I had lots of help from other people. And unfortunately, too many of them are no longer with us. Great treasures from the past can inspire awe and wonder, but they can also inspire greed and violence, which cost some of my friends their lives. Before I go on, I’d like to take a moment to remember them.’

She looked down, hands clasped in front of her. The noise of the crowd fell almost to nothing, birdsong from the surrounding countryside briefly the only sound. Then she raised her head again, seeing Chase giving her a sad but appreciative smile. She returned it, then continued.

‘Thank you. The Prime Minister just said I’ve rewritten the history books - and I know that for some people that can be a very frightening thing, when everything they thought they knew gets turned on its head. And I’ve been guilty of that myself; I’ve had my own preconceived beliefs. But I’ve also learned that, sometimes, having your beliefs challenged is the only way that new discoveries can be made, that knowledge can be advanced. And because of that challenge, I’m here with you today as what was once just legend now becomes something greater: truth. A truth that has yet to be fully explored, but the path starts here - at the resting place of Arthur, king of the Britons.’

More applause, even cheering. But Nina was once more looking only at Chase, and his expression of pride.

‘So why weren’t you up on stage, Uncle Eddie?’ Holly asked.

‘Ah, you know me,’ Chase said modestly. ‘Camera-shy.’

‘Not from me, you’re not.’ She held up the phone Chase had bought her and took a picture of him and Nina. ‘I want a good picture of my hero.’

‘I don’t think it’s possible to take one,’ said Elizabeth, but with humour in her voice. ‘Eddie, I’d say thank you, but I don’t think it would be enough. You saved . . .’ She tailed off, overcome by emotion.

Chase put his arm round her. ‘It’s okay, Liz . . . E-lizabeth.’ They both smiled. ‘I mean, come on. You’re family. What else would I do?’

‘Maybe you should go and see Dad, tell him that.’

‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves!’

Chase’s grandmother bustled up to them. ‘Come here, my little lambchop. I’m so proud of you!’ She reached up and pinched his cheeks.

‘Ow. Ow, Nan!’ Chase protested. ‘You’ll pop a stitch!’

‘Oh, don’t be silly.’ She kissed him, then turned to Nina. ‘And I’m so happy you’ve finally set a date!’ She kissed Nina as well. ‘Welcome to the family!’

‘Don’t forget to send Peter Alderley his invitation,’ said Mac mischievously.

‘Alderley can f . . .’ Chase began, before looking at his grandmother and niece.

‘Find one in his mailbox soon?’ Nina suggested.

Mac chuckled, then stepped closer, lowering his voice. ‘By the way,’ he said, glancing across at the Prime Minister as he spoke to a TV news crew nearby, ‘there are some people in London - and Washington - who are rather keen to find out what happened to Excalibur.’

‘Lost at sea,’ Nina and Chase quickly replied in unison. ‘Went down with the ship,’ Nina added.

‘Glug glug,’ Chase said, making a spiralling downwards motion with a finger.

‘Hrmm.’ Mac regarded them both intently for a moment, then his face creased into a wry smile. ‘Terrible shame. Still, probably for the best. So what are you going to do now?’

‘We’re going back to the States,’ Nina told him. ‘I have to make a full report to the IHA and the UN. And we need to see Hector Amoros’s family.’

Mac nodded sympathetically. ‘I wish you all the best, then. Are you heading back to Heathrow? I could give you a lift.’

‘That’s okay,’ said Nina. ‘We’ve got a rental car.’

Chase grinned. ‘And we’re going to take the scenic route.’

They stood at the edge of a small lake deep in the English countryside, sunshine giving the rolling green landscape a hazy glow, peaceful and romantic. There was nobody else in sight, no cars or houses, just trees and fields and birds drifting through the warm air.

‘It’s beautiful,’ said Nina. She moved closer to the bank, looking down to see her reflection in the rippling water. A little fish rose almost to the surface to peer up at her, then darted into the safety of the depths with a flick of its tail.

‘It’s nice,’ Chase agreed, ‘but not as good as Yorkshire. God’s own county - I’ll have to take you up there.’

‘Maybe next time.’ She regarded the view for a moment longer, then turned and picked up an object wrapped in a towel.

‘Sure you want to do this?’ Chase asked.

‘Not entirely. Something of this historical importance should be in a museum. But . . .’ She shook her head. ‘We can’t let anyone like Jack get hold of it again. And besides, according to legend Excalibur ended up in a lake, waiting to be found again when the time was right. It feels appropriate.’

She unwrapped the towel, revealing Excalibur gleaming within. The blade glowed almost imperceptibly when she took the hilt, no invisible lines of earth energy nearby. After regarding the reflections in the metal for a moment, Nina carefully handed the sword to Chase. ‘Me?’ he asked. ‘Oh, I get it - if you’re King Arthur, then I’m the loyal knight who casts away the sword, right?’

‘No,’ Nina said with a smile. ‘You can throw a lot further than me, that’s all!’

Chase laughed, then weighed the sword in his hands before drawing back one arm to throw it. ‘Sure?’

‘Yes.’

‘Okay.’ With a grunt, he hurled the shining weapon out across the lake. It spun end over end, sunlight flashing from the blade, and arced down to land with a splash some distance from the shore, dropping out of sight into the deep waters beneath. ‘Huh. You know, I almost expected someone’s hand to pop out of the water and grab it.’

‘Some moistened tart, maybe?’ Nina asked him, grinning.

‘Yeah, that’s enough Monty Python,’ Chase said, taking her hand and starting the walk back to their car. ‘So, we’d better start thinking about the wedding, I suppose. I know - how about getting married in Vegas by Elvis?’

She laughed. ‘Keep thinking.’

Epilogue

Washington, DC

The white-haired man handed the folder to the man seated behind the desk and stepped back respectfully. ‘That’s everything we’ve got so far, sir.’

‘The ship?’

‘Based on the GPS track of its last known position, it’s approximately eight thousand feet down in the Norwegian Basin, just inside the Arctic Circle. Reachable, given time, but there’s no way to tell how much would be recoverable.’

‘What about the sword?’

‘According to Dr Wilde and Chase, it went down with the ship. Whether that’s true or not is another matter, but considering her public profile right now, rendering them for interrogation might be a problem.’

‘Damn it. Mitchell should have had the superconductor analysed and duplicated before testing the weapon. He rushed it, and we lost everything!’

‘With respect, sir,’ the white-haired man said, ‘he was acting under your orders. He wanted to take advantage of the stand-off with the Russians, and you personally authorised him to sink the Enterprise as a false flag—’

‘I know what I authorised!’ A fist banged on the desk. ‘We would have eliminated the Russians as a competitor for polar resources for a decade, but now all that’s gone because of some - some archaeologist and her Limey boyfriend!’ He flicked through the pages inside the folder, stopping at a pair of photographs: Nina and Chase. He threw the folder down on his desk with a slap. ‘All right, Mr Callum. You can go.’

‘Yes, Mr President.’ The white-haired man nodded, then marched crisply from the Oval Office.

President Victor Dalton turned to look out across the White House’s rose garden beyond the high armoured windows. Jack Mitchell had known that failure would see him castigated as a rogue agent misusing DARPA’s black budget for his own ends. Like a true patriot, he had accepted the risk and taken that responsibility in order to protect the man whose orders he was actually obeying. There would be no link to the White House . . . but that didn’t change the fact that the operation had failed. The earth energy weapon had been destroyed, and Dalton’s long-term plans had been derailed.

He scowled at the photographs of Nina and Chase. ‘I won’t forget this,’ he promised them.