Golden Chariot
Golden Chariot
Chris Karlsen
Excerpt:
Shouts of “fire” came from all sides of the camp. The west wind blew sparks in the direction of the lab. They could lose the entire camp, but not the lab, not the artifacts.
Charlotte grabbed an empty barrel from the fire line. She ran with it and started climbing the stairs to the shower stall’s water tank. A man’s large hand covered her mouth. His other hand brandished a gun. With the cold barrel to her ear, he walked her backwards down the few steps to the ground.
“Don’t scream.” Little-by-little his palm came away from her mouth.
Praise for Chris Karlsen
Knights in Time Series
Heroes Live Forever
“What a wonderful book. I found myself completely and utterly immersed in the world created by Chris Karlsen. I had my emotions tried again and again, feeling elated at times, broken at others, then complete by the end.”
“Heroes Live Forever is the wonderful story of Basil Manneville and Guy Guiscard, two Medieval Knights killed in a brutal battle against the French in 1356. Unable to cross over, both ghosts take up residency in the home of school teacher, Elinor Hawthorne.
Basil is given a second chance at love and discovers that, indeed, true love does transcend all things, even if they seem impossible. This is a “can’t put down book” and a fabulous summer read. Chris Karlsen is an up and coming author and someone to keep your eye on. I can’t wait for the next book.”
Excerpt from Journey in Time
“Alex, what is going on?” she asked in a frenzied whisper.
“Shh.” After they mounted, Alex sidled over, so close their boots touched. “We’re riding into a very perilous situation. I’ll explain everything when we’re alone. Your life, my life,” he stressed, “depends on you being quiet until then.”
Confused it took Shakira a few seconds before she nodded yes.
“Remember what I told you,” he warned and trotted ahead to chat with the knight he called Simon
Also by Chris Karlsen
Knights in Time Series
Heroes Live Forever
Coming Soon
Knight Blindness
Coming Soon
Byzantine Gold
Golden Chariot
Copyright 2012
By Books to Go Now
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First eBook Edition –January 2012
Printed in the United States of America
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(Zeus) spoke thus in answer: “Of all the mortals in Troy, Hektor was dearest indeed to the Gods.”
The Iliad
Chapter One
Santorini, Greece
Charlotte snapped awake at the explosion of sound. The boat trembled and the noise evolved into a long, scrape of metal on metal. She threw the sheet off and sat up. Around her, loose items fell to the cabin floor. She groped for the nightstand lamp and worked the toggle switch several times. Nothing.
The boat rocked and listed hard to starboard. She held onto the edge of the nightstand to maintain her balance, rose, and inched forward to the wall. She kept her palms on the wood panel and moved in small increments. Sharp bristles from her hairbrush stabbed her foot as she stumbled in the dark.
“God damn it.” She kicked the brush aside and stepped with caution across the room. She flipped the wall switch for the overhead light, still nothing. The generators were out. Whatever happened to the boat damaged the engines. Ekrem and Heather were in the master cabin next to hers and above the engine room.
She continued toward the door. Water in the passageway was up to her ankles, panic shot through her. The absence of light worsened her fear. The boat was in serious trouble.
She hugged the wall so she wouldn’t become disoriented. “Ekrem,” she called out when she felt the metal door frame of their cabin. “Are you and Heather all right?”
“We’re fine,” he called back.
“I think we’ve been broadsided. We’re taking on water fast. We need to get out now.”
“I know,” Ekrem said. “We’re coming.”
Above them, the captain shouted orders. The sound of running feet on the top deck echoed down.
She heard Ekrem struggling to open the narrow cabin door. Solid mahogany, its weight and the tilt of the boat pulled against him. She pushed hard on the door from the passageway. It opened enough for him to manage a two-handed hold on the edge.
“Charlotte, where are you?”
“I’m here.” She reached out in the dark. Her hand landed on his thigh. Ekrem had braced a foot on the side of the frame for leverage and pressed his back to the door to keep it open.
“Stay there,” he said. “Heather, come. Watch the step-up.” Charlotte found Heather’s hand and pulled her to the wall.
Ekrem came out. “Heather, hold onto me and don’t let go of Charlotte’s hand. I’ll lead.”
A crewman with a flashlight met them as they started up the stairs. “Hurry, please. The lower deck is underwater...is bad.”
On deck, Ekrem reassured Heather, who clung to him.
Charlotte noticed nearby pleasure craft had turned their lights on and lit the water around the sinking gulet. Crews and passengers from the other boats called out in Greek, Turkish, and English offering assistance.
When she boarded, the captain told her the vessel’s length was twenty-one meters. She estimated the mast height was close to the length. The gulet presented an unmistakable profile.
She expected to find a disabled yacht with a drunken owner at the helm. Blind drunk. Only the same boats she saw anchored the night before dotted the marina. In the moonlight, she saw a trawler running without lights heading out of the harbor. It had to be the boat that struck them. The collision should’ve crippled the trawler, and why hadn’t the captain stayed to lend a hand or give a statement?
Ekrem yanked on her elbow and shoved her and Heather into the arms of the crewman. “Help them to the tender.”
The captain of their gulet joined them. “Ladies, Mr. Zeren, please, the Zodiac waits.”
“Take the women,” Ekrem said, his attention fixed on the fleeing trawler.
Heather and Charlotte ignored the crewman’s pleas for them to leave.
“You know this boat?” the captain asked Ekrem.
Charlotte wanted to hear what was said and moved closer to the two men.
“Turkce,” Ekrem said, with a slight jerk of his head toward Charlotte.
The captain nodded and repeated the question in Turkish.
“Evet,” Ekrem said. “Belki,” he added, qualifying his yes with a maybe.
Her gaze shifted from him to the boat in question and back. “You know who rammed?”
Ekrem hesitated then asked, “Turkce konusabiliyormusun?”
She had a working knowledge of the language. “Biraz, I speak a little. Yeteri kadar, enough,” she said, seeing the surprise
on Ekrem’s face.
He avoided her question. Instead, he gave Heather a gentle push into the captain’s hands. “Take them and go.”
Heather pulled free from the captain’s grasp. “What do you mean ‘take them?’ Aren’t you coming?”
“I must find my cell phone before water floods our cabin. The people that struck us are escaping. It’s imperative I notify my associate of the situation. This cannot wait.”
“You can’t stay.”
“Your flashlight,” Ekrem demanded of the deckhand. The man handed over the light. Ekrem turned to start down the stairs.
Heather blocked him. “Ekrem, no.”
“Go with the crew. Go now.”
“Come with us, please. Call from the village.”
“I’ll be fine. I can swim to shore. Do not argue with me.”
Heather didn’t move. Ekrem sent a desperate look over her shoulder to Charlotte.
“I won’t leave without you,” Heather insisted. “What is so urgent it can’t wait until you’re ashore?”
Charlotte worried it was too risky for Ekrem to remain on the sinking boat. She stepped between him and Heather. “Ekrem, it’s crazy to stay. You’re not safe. Please, come.”
He bent so only she would hear. “Trust me; I must get the Ministry men from my unit here. I need their help and yours. Heather is fragile. Take care of her. Please do this for me. I will meet up with you as soon as possible. Please.”
She disagreed with his decision, but she’d do what he asked. “Of course.” She slid an arm around Heather’s waist.
“Once you’re at the village, go to the Alkyona Taverna. Ask for Georgios, the owner,” he told Charlotte. “Tell him what happened. He’ll arrange rooms for you.”
“Come Heather, the faster he gets done, the faster he can get off the boat,” she said.
“Go.” With his hand on the small of Heather’s back, Ekrem forced her out of his path and disappeared below.
“Ekrem,” Heather cried after him as Charlotte eased her away.
#
The water spilled over the raised step of the cabin. The carpet absorbed the initial flow.
Ekrem found the phone wedged between the wooden base of the bed and nightstand. He dialed the unit’s secure line to a specific investigator. His partner picked up on the second ring.
“Atakan...yes, I know. Forget the time. Someone tried to kill me,” he said and hurried from the cabin. “Our boat was broadsided. Hard. I think it was Tischenko.”
Knee-high water rushed down the passageway. “The other boat cleaved through both lower decks of the hull to sink us fast and trap the passengers. The method is his style. If it’s him and he knows I survived, he’ll try again.”
He waded through to the stairs and ditched the flashlight. “I’m sending Heather home today, out of harm’s way. Get our rapid response team to the island and coordinate with the Greek authorities.”
Ekrem climbed onto the top deck. “Meet me at the Coast Guard Headquarters in Oia.”
Chapter Two
Maksym Tischenko tapped his fingers in time to the Emigrate song. The group’s drummer made them a better than average metal band. It’s all about the percussion instruments. Maksym cranked the volume up and watched the activity on the gulet through binoculars.
The small inlet where he positioned the Carrera speedboat afforded privacy and an unobstructed view of the sinking. Nestled at the foot of the beachless rocky cliff, and away from the village, boaters rarely anchored there.
Ekrem and his woman survived. Maksym thumbed the button on his MP-3 player and fast forwarded to This is What, his favorite song on the album. The couple should have drowned. He’d calculated the exact point Oleksiy needed to strike the gulet. The bow of the trawler would penetrate the hull deep and split Ekrem’s cabin in two. The idiot Oleksiy missed the master suite by several meters. The mistake forced Maksym to go to his trickier contingency plan.
The gulet crew helped the women into the tender, but Ekrem remained and went below again. Why?
Maksym lowered the binoculars. What would he do in Ekrem’s place? In the old days, regulations required him to report any accidents to the Russian Fleet Command. It was safe to assume Ekrem complied with similar rules. Why not call the Ministry from land, unless secrecy was an issue? With the Zodiac gone, Ekrem had to swim to shore. He hadn’t much time before the boat sank. What, or who, is worth this risk? Maksym found the action curious but to his advantage. Better to catch him alone in the water than in the village.
Maksym eyed the trawler leaving the harbor and pulled the cell phone from his gear bag. Oleksiy was an old acquaintance from the military. He expected they’d meet up on Thirasia, to celebrate completion of their contract. Oleksiy’s failed execution of the plan meant his work could no longer be trusted. A pity. He always liked the hard-drinking Russian.
Maksym waited for the part of the song he liked best, where the drums dominated the singer. He punched in the number of the cell phone he left on the trawler and pressed the send button. The boat exploded into a floating fireball. Fiery debris filled the air before plunging into the peaceful Aegean.
Maksym removed the ear buds and laid the player and binoculars on the speedboat’s dashboard. He slipped the scuba tank and fins on and adjusted the mask. He’d swim without a wetsuit, the way he preferred. Weak tourists complained of the sea in the area being too cold this early in the season. They’d lie in the warm sun, grow hot, and wade out. When the cool water hit their pale bellies they’d squeal like clubbed pigs and run back to the beach. He grew up swimming in the far colder water of the Black Sea. The sea around Santorini was like bath water.
He could just make out the figure emerging onto the deck of the gulet.
Finish Ekrem. Finish the job.
Maksym dove into the water.
Chapter Three
From the dock, Charlotte watched the gulet sink as the Coast Guard official approached to take her statement.
“Captain Gunes tells us your boat was rammed.”
She turned.
Black and thick, the official’s mustache covered his upper lip from the corners of his mouth to his nose. Like an independent life form, it bobbed as he spoke, giving his stern face a strangely comic effect.
She pushed the inappropriate distraction from her mind. “Yes...I’m sorry; I don’t know your rank. Is it Officer Petalas?”
“Lieutenant. The boat which struck yours is the same one that exploded as it fled the scene. Correct?”
“Yes.”
“Gunes said the missing man...” He consulted his notes. “Mr. Ekrem Zeren indicated he knew who attacked you.”
She nodded.
“Did he mention a name?”
“No.”
“A reason?”
“No.
“What brings you to Santorini?
“Mr. Zeren invited me. We’re colleagues. We worked together briefly last year. In two days, we start on a new excavation for the Maritime Institute of Archaeology and Research in Bodrum. He asked me to stop on the way to discuss the project.”
“Mr. Zeren is a Ministry Representative. Why would he wish to meet with you ahead of time and interrupt a private weekend with his woman? Was there a problem?”
“No. What are you suggesting?”
“It’s a simple question. Why does it upset you?”
“I’m not upset.” She wondered how Petalas arrived at the idea there was a problem. “I don’t understand why you think that.”
Petalas glanced over at Heather where another officer tried to interview her. The officer was forced to repeat each question while she kept vigil at the dock’s edge. Charlotte feared she waited for a lover who hadn’t survived. Too much time had passed.
“You have a history with Mr. Zeren,” Petalas said, looking back at Charlotte. “Colleagues or lovers perhaps? Can it be that you were part of a love triangle?”
“No. No,” she repeated with more emphasis, alarmed at the direction of
the interview. “Absolutely not, we’re just colleagues.”
“You didn’t feel uncomfortable being an extra tire in the company of two lovers?” Petalas asked, misusing the slang expression.
“I believe you mean third wheel,” Charlotte said. From his blank stare, the correction was lost on him. “This wasn’t my idea. Again, he invited me.”
“Perhaps, the boat that hit you is a jealous ex-boyfriend or lover of yours?”
He looked down his nose at her, a superior up-tilt to his chin. His barrel chest puffed out, flattening the military creases on his uniform shirt. Whether the provocative shift in attitude was a successful technique for him or a subconscious mannerism, Charlotte didn’t know or care. He put the premise out there like a question. But, it was obviously the conclusion Petalas had come to in his own small mind.
“No lieutenant, there’s no jilted boyfriend or lover.”
“How well do you know Miss Hilliard?” He gestured in Heather’s direction.
“I don’t. We met for the first time yesterday.”
“Did the three of you go anywhere, meet anyone?”
“I arrived on the afternoon flight from Athens. Once I got to the gulet, we stayed onboard.”
“No one joined your party? You had no contact with the people on the boat that struck yours?”
She shook her head.
“You’ll swear to this? You’ll swear this wasn’t a business transaction that went wrong, perhaps?”
She bristled at Petalas’s suspicious tone and not so veiled accusations. She took a deep breath. Stay calm. She took another deep breath and let it out. She started to inhale again then stopped. The exercise did nothing to relieve her tension. She wanted to choke Petalas.
“Yes, to both,” she said. She’d swear under oath, give a written statement, anything they requested. His innuendos couldn’t reach the administration of MIAR. She’d never worked with them before. They might remove her from the project. She had to stay assigned to the shipwreck. The wreck was her first and perhaps only chance to prove her theory.
“Exactly, what are you getting at, lieutenant? I have the impression you want to turn the situation around--—make us the suspects. We’re the victims here.”