Serpent's Kiss. Alex Archer

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      W HEN A NNJA STRIPPED DOWN to her bikini she claimed the instant attention of every male in the dig crew. She felt a little self-conscious as she walked toward the water.

      She had a good body. She knew that. Hours of work on the weight machines and StairMaster, hours spent in the boxing gym she frequented and an active lifestyle guaranteed that.

      And the bikini showed off her figure. She’d worn it under her clothes so she could go for a quiet, private swim in the ocean at the end of a long hot day in the pit.

      The snorkel and swim fins she carried were borrowed from one of the students whose belongings had turned up in a tree. At the water’s edge, she sat on a rock, pulled the swim fins on and settled the mask over her face. She tried to ignore the continued staring as she made her way out into the water.

      She swam out twenty yards or so. From the way the seabed gradually sloped out, she guessed she was in fifteen to twenty feet of water. After a final deep breath to charge her lungs, she dived.

      The crash of the surf against the cliff suddenly seemed distant. Annja felt as if she’d been wrapped in cotton. She swam cleanly as she moved her arms and legs almost effortlessly.

      The ocean was clearer than she’d expected. With the disturbance caused by the tsunami she’d anticipated a lot of debris in the water. There was a lingering fog, however, that limited her visibility. She resisted the impulse to clean her face mask.

      As always, the beauty of the sea overcame her. The brilliant colors of the fish in the tropical saltwater environment caught her eye again and again. Schools swam and darted in unison. Several coral growths stood proudly on the sea bottom. An eel whipsawed through less than a dozen feet away.

      You’re not here on a sight-seeing tour, Annja reminded herself. She swam down to within reaching distance of the seabed.

      She hadn’t swum far when she found the first gold coin. She dug it out of the loose sand and spotted three more.

      In the excitement, she hadn’t paid particular attention to the tightness that strained her lungs.

      When she flipped over to begin her ascent, she noticed the hull of a speedboat cutting through the water toward the shallows. She surfaced and spit out the snorkel mouthpiece, breathing deeply to replenish her depleted lungs.

      The boat moved in too close and too quick. Several students had to flee the water. Four men sat in the speedboat. They laughed at the students and mimed the panicked reactions of some of them.

      Annja treaded water on the other side of the speedboat. She scanned the craft and noticed the name and registration were missing or covered over.

      Things didn’t look good.

      One of the men brought up a bolt-action rifle and shouted something in his native tongue. Another man tapped him on the shoulder and spoke quickly.

      The man with the rifle addressed the dig members again in English. “I want to talk to your boss now or I will start shooting.”

       6

      The Grimjoy rocked on the sea with a careless abandon that told Goraksh the craft hadn’t been properly anchored.

      The yacht was a thing of beauty. At least forty feet long, the boat was a shipbuilder’s confection of polished teak and brass. It was also rigged and powered to be a motorsailer, capable of traveling with the wind or by the big engines.

      Goraksh listened to his father’s bellowed commands and helped with the sails as the Black Swan closed on the yacht. The lookout in the crow’s nest relayed that no one else appeared to be about.

      Grabbing his binoculars, Goraksh studied the yacht. He spotted a red-haired woman in a bikini waving frantically in the stern, but no one else appeared on deck.

      “What do you think?”

      His father’s unannounced presence at his side startled Goraksh. He took an involuntary step away before realizing it was his father.

      “What do I think about what, Father?” Goraksh asked.

      Rajiv nodded at the yacht. “It could be a trap.”

      “A trap?”

      “There could be armed men belowdecks waiting till we’re within range,” Rajiv said as calmly as though they were discussing the prevailing winds. “They could have rifles or machine guns. Perhaps even a rocket launcher. Those things are not as hard to get hold of as they once were.”

      Goraksh knew that; his father sometimes dealt in munitions. But everyone who had a boat and needed money did. There were always rebel forces in India, Africa and the Middle East who needed them. Sometimes Rajiv only hired out to transport someone else’s weapons.

      The woman continued waving and yelling.

      “I don’t think it’s a trap,” Goraksh replied. “The woman appears too afraid.”

      “Perhaps you’re right,” his father said. “It pays to be right.” He paused. “But it also pays to be careful.” He barked an order to one of the men.

      Instantly the order was relayed to the other men. All of them armed themselves with assault rifles that were brought up from belowdecks. Possession of any one of the weapons was enough to get them in serious trouble. Having all of them—

      Goraksh СКАЧАТЬ