The Midas Legacy (Wilde/Chase 12) (21 page)

Olivia sat bolt upright, shocked. ‘
What?
’

‘Someone knew I was going to Nepal to look for it – they knew I was going to Dragon Mountain. We were attacked.’

‘By whom?’

‘A team of mercenaries. They killed some of the monks, and nearly me and Eddie too. They also took the other Crucible, the big one.’ Nina watched her grandmother’s response closely; there was no surprise at the revelation of a second artefact. ‘One of their helicopters crashed and collapsed the cave entrance.’

‘My God.’ Olivia regarded the crystal, then looked up at Nina. ‘I’m glad you’re both all right.’

‘We nearly weren’t. And
I’m
glad you remembered to be sympathetic, however belatedly.’

‘This is not my fault!’ she protested.

‘Then whose is it? Whoever sent those men not only knew about the Midas Cave, they knew about the Crucibles, plural. Which is more than I did, or Mom.’ An unpleasant thought came to her. ‘
Did
Mom know? What the Crucibles were, I mean. The name was in her notes, but there was never any explanation of what it meant. I’d thought that was because she didn’t know, but now I’m wondering if it’s because she
did
.’

Olivia was silent for a moment before answering. ‘She knew the Crucible was part of the process of how the cave created gold. Beyond that . . . no, no she didn’t. I hadn’t told her, because there was no need for her to know at the time. But,’ she went on, more urgently, ‘that’s not important right now. Who were these mercenaries? Who hired them?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Nina. ‘They were Nepali, but the leader was a man called Axelos.’

‘That isn’t a name I recognise, I’m afraid.’

‘Did you think you might?’

‘It was possible. You see, our family isn’t the only one that made its fortune from the Midas Cave. Tobias Garde’s companions shared the gold with him, and passed it down to
their
descendants too.’

‘You think one of them sent the mercenaries?’

‘I can’t imagine that they would, but . . .’ She lightly chewed her bottom lip, deep in thought. ‘Nina, it’s time you learned the full truth about your mother’s past – your
family’s
past.’

Nina leaned towards her. ‘I’m listening.’

‘Not here, not from me alone.’ Olivia hesitated, apparently making a big decision. ‘You need to meet the other members of the Midas Legacy.’

19

Iceland

Eddie peered out of the descending airliner’s window at the raw, rugged landscape below. At this time of year the Icelandic lowlands were thawing, but the higher ground in the distance was still an unbroken vista of white. ‘Can’t believe I agreed to this,’ he grumbled. ‘We get back from Nepal, and the next day we’re off to bloody Iceland!’

Macy, in the seat between her parents, let out a little gasp. ‘Daddy! You said a bad word!’

‘It’s not a bad word in America, love,’ he assured her. ‘And when Americans say it, it sounds wrong anyway.’

‘It’s still a bad word in England, though,’ Nina reminded him.

‘No it’s not. It’s more like punctuation.’

‘All the same, Daddy’s going to stop saying it. Isn’t he?’

‘Bloomin’ right,’ said Eddie, but with a smile at his daughter.

A few minutes later, the Icelandair flight touched down at Keflavik international airport. Macy squealed first in alarm, then excitement. ‘There you go, honey,’ said Nina. ‘You just finished your first airplane ride!’

The little girl craned her neck to see out of the porthole. ‘Can we do it again?’

‘Yeah, we’ll be going back to New York soon,’ said Eddie. He gave Nina a meaningful sidelong look. ‘I hope.’

‘I’m sure we will,’ she replied.

She couldn’t help feeling trepidation, however. Olivia had been annoyingly opaque, insisting only that the meeting she had set up would answer all Nina’s questions about the Midas Cave – and her mother. She had not even expanded any further on the nature of the mysterious Legacy until Nina put her foot down and told her that without at least some clue about what to expect, she wasn’t going to leave New York, never mind the country. ‘I have a seat on what we call the Midas Legacy,’ Olivia had finally said. ‘It’s not nearly as mysterious as it sounds – it’s simply a rather self-aggrandising name Tobias and the others came up with, and that the three families have kept ever since because . . . well, we rather like it. It’s essentially a council that meets every so often to make decisions concerning the fortune.’

Beyond that, however, she had not been forthcoming, which had made convincing Eddie that they should travel to Iceland a drawn-out process. But eventually he’d acquiesced, the condition being that Macy go with them; their daughter had had a passport for some time in anticipation of eventual travel. Nina had been more than happy to agree.

By international standards, Keflavik was a relatively small airport, so it did not take long to clear passport control. The only minor delay was when they had to wait for one of their items of luggage. Nina had checked the Crucible in as oversized baggage, the crystal well-protected in the same box used to transport it from Nepal. ‘Well, it made it this far,’ said Eddie as he collected it from the claim counter, with a wary look around.

‘The only people who knew it was in New York were Lola, Oswald and Olivia,’ said Nina. ‘And Olivia was the only one who knew it was coming here. I don’t think she’d send goons to steal it herself.’ She put Macy into a puffy winter coat, then took her hand and started for the exit.

‘Considering that she lied to you to find the thing in the first place . . .’

‘Eddie,’ Nina warned him quietly. Despite his misgivings – and her own, for that matter – about the sudden reappearance of her long-lost relative they had agreed not to air them in front of their daughter. He made a disapproving noise, but said nothing more.

A man approached them as they emerged from the arrivals gate. ‘Dr Wilde?’

‘Yes?’ Nina said cautiously, aware that Eddie was subtly taking up a defensive stance, ready to react to any threat. The man – around thirty, with bristling light brown hair and a wide, tight-lipped mouth that gave an unsmiling edge to his otherwise handsome face – eyed him, clearly realising what he was doing.

‘I am Rutger De Klerx. Mrs Garde is waiting for you in my car.’ At first Nina thought his accent was German, but on hearing his name, she quickly revised her guess to Dutch. ‘If you and your daughter will come with me?’

‘And her husband too,’ rumbled Eddie.

‘Yes, and you, Mr Chase,’ said De Klerx, though not without a dismissive exhalation. Eddie started to mutter something rude, but held it back after a glance at Macy.

They followed De Klerx to his waiting car, which was more imposing than expected. ‘So we’re getting a lift from the Fall Guy?’ said Eddie, looking up at their ride. It was a bright red Ford Expedition EL, already a large vehicle capable of seating seven people, but made even taller by the fitting of massive off-road tyres and a jacked-up heavy-duty suspension. Banks of spotlights ran across its radiator grille and roof, a rack on the tailgate holding ropes, chains and jerrycans of fuel.

‘It’s a monster truck!’ cried the amazed Macy.

Even smiling, De Klerx did not appear to be amused. ‘They call them “super jeeps” here in Iceland. They are the only way to reach some parts of the island when there is snow.’ He folded down a step and opened the rear door to let them in.

‘I guess we’re going somewhere snowy?’ said Nina as she clambered aboard. Eddie lifted Macy up after her.

‘The Electra hotel,’ said Olivia from the front passenger seat. She greeted them, then continued: ‘One of the Legacy’s other members owns it. We sometimes use it for meetings because we can be sure of privacy. It’s a little out of the way.’ She smiled at Macy. ‘Hello, dear. Did you enjoy your trip on an airplane?’

Macy began an enthusiastic recounting of the journey as Eddie climbed into the cabin. ‘See you planned ahead,’ he said, gesturing at the child seat into which Nina was buckling their daughter.

‘I always do,’ Olivia replied.

De Klerx got into the driver’s seat and started the engine. The Expedition’s big V8 sounded as if it had been considerably beefed up, exhaust pipes roaring. He pulled away, the studded tyres crunching noisily over the road surface.

Keflavik was some distance from the Icelandic capital Reykjavik, a long and lonely highway running parallel to the coastline before reaching the city’s outskirts. Rather than heading into the centre, the Expedition skirted around it, taking a road that climbed into the hills to the east. The patches of snow on the ground grew larger as they went higher, soon joining to cover the entire landscape. The road itself was relatively free of ice – the Icelanders were well practised at ploughing and clearing their thoroughfares even in the wilderness – but the only vehicles they saw as they crossed the high plains were other super jeeps, in the form of pumped-up SUVs, pickups and even buses.

Eddie kept Macy occupied with an animated conversation about animals that might live in snow. ‘Not many people out here,’ Nina observed. The scenery was beautiful, but no less devoid of life than the mountains of Nepal.

‘You should see this road when the Northern Lights are active,’ said Olivia disapprovingly. ‘It’s almost as congested as Manhattan on a Friday evening. Endless busloads of tourists on their way to Thingvellir in the hope of getting a good view.’

‘What’s a Thingvellir?’ Macy asked.

‘It’s a national park. There’s a very big lake there, and it’s also the place where the Icelanders used to have their parliament. Do you know what a parliament is?’

‘I’ve got some words to describe the British one, but I can’t use them in front of the little ’un,’ said Eddie with a grin.

‘It’s where people meet to vote on what they’re going to do,’ Nina told the confused girl. ‘Like Congress in Washington DC.’

Realisation lit Macy’s face. ‘Oh, where all the idiots are!’

‘I see you’ve been offering commentary on the news,’ Olivia said to the couple, amused, before addressing Macy again. ‘The Icelanders called it the Althing, and it was their government. I suppose we’re going to our own little Althing, except only three families vote in this one. Mine is one of them.’

‘Who else is there?’ Macy asked.

‘That’s a very good question,’ Nina said pointedly.

‘You’ll meet them soon,’ Olivia assured her.

The super jeep continued on, the large lake eventually coming into view to their right. Against the stark white backdrop, it appeared so deep a blue as to be almost black. Further along the road, Olivia pointed out a rocky chasm stretching back towards the ice-speckled waters. ‘At the moment, we’re technically in North America,’ she said as the Expedition reached a curve in the road that crossed over it. ‘And now . . . we’re in Europe.’

‘Wish it was that quick to get between ’em all the time,’ said Eddie. ‘It’d save a lot of waiting around in airports.’

‘Was that the continental rift?’ Nina asked, watching the cleft retreat behind them.

‘Yes, between the North American and European plates.’ Olivia gestured at the distant hills to the east. ‘This valley’s gradually getting wider as new rock is formed beneath it. The place we’re going is also on the rift, actually. One of its unique selling points, to use the jargon.’

The Ford soon reached a crossroads. De Klerx headed north, heading into some higher peaks. After a few miles he turned on to another road, a signpost bearing an exclamation mark and the bilingual warning
Ófært; Impassable
. Its accuracy soon became clear, the asphalt disappearing beneath deepening snow. Yellow marker posts snaked into the distance, tyre tracks showing that the buried route had been recently taken by other vehicles. ‘There’s a hotel all the way up here?’ Nina asked dubiously.

‘Good for skiing, I suppose,’ said Eddie.

‘You would think, but it’s actually closed to the public at this time of year,’ Olivia told him. ‘The conditions are a little too extreme for the average tourist. The Icelanders prefer that their visitors not die of exposure.’

The Dutchman guided the Expedition onwards, kicking up compacted snow from its oversized wheels. A few miles on, they reached a small frozen lake, the icy surface glittering in the sunlight. Low cliffs rose beyond it, the markers curving around the shore to meet them. He slowed to ascend an incline, then applied a burst of power to propel them over its crest. Macy giggled at the engine’s roar.

‘There it is,’ announced Olivia.

They had reached a broad plain, deep snowdrifts rippling across it like albino sand dunes. Beyond them, a building stood at the base of a low hill, its assertively angular architecture of pale wood and concrete and glass in sharp contrast to the natural surroundings. It seemed almost to be floating above the ground, a pair of long wings each two storeys high jutting out of the hillside. Where they joined, two stainless-steel chimneys rose skyward, plumes of pure white steam drifting from them. ‘That’s . . . pretty spectacular,’ said Nina, impressed.

More super jeeps were parked in front of the structure. As they approached it, a young man in dark clothing hurried to meet the new arrivals. De Klerx lowered his window. A brief exchange, then the Dutchman guided the SUV towards one end of the hotel. ‘He wants to meet us at the east entrance,’ he told Olivia.

She was not impressed. ‘Does he now?’

De Klerx said nothing, instead bringing the super jeep to a stop in an area free of snow beneath the building. From here, Nina saw that the hotel was actually Y-shaped in plan, the broad leg from which the two elevated arms extended partially buried in the hillside. Close up, the structure’s gravity-defying nature was revealed as extremely clever design, steeply raked pillars bearing the load.

De Klerx opened the doors for his passengers. Another man in dark clothes took their baggage, though Eddie kept a firm hold on the Crucible. The group followed their driver up a flight of steps. Seeing that she was having difficulty, Nina moved to assist her grandmother. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yes, thank you,’ Olivia replied testily. ‘If we’d used the main entrance we could have taken the elevator, but no, Fenrir has his own plans.’

The name was familiar, but for the moment Nina couldn’t place it. ‘Do you need a hand?’

‘No, I’m fine,’ the old lady insisted. She gripped the banister more tightly and continued defiantly upwards.

They entered a lobby. The man carrying their bags continued down a hallway, but rather than go with him, De Klerx brought the visitors into a large room occupying the entire end of the wing. Two whole walls were glazed, giving a breathtaking view of the snowy wilderness. But Nina’s eyes went to its sole occupant. The room was a gym containing ranks of top-of-the-range exercise machines, but the man they had apparently come to meet was lying on his back on a bench, lifting a set of weights.

Now
she knew where she had heard his name before. ‘Dr Mikkelsson?’ she exclaimed.

Fenrir Mikkelsson looked around at the new arrivals, the mechanical rhythm of his exercise not missing a beat. ‘Ah, Dr Wilde! A pleasure to meet you again.’

‘Who’s this?’ Eddie asked her. ‘Haven’t been seeing someone behind my back, have you?’

She gave her husband a sarcastic smile. ‘I met him at the United Nations. Dr Mikkelsson’s a director of the International Atomic Energy Agency . . . so I’m kinda surprised to see him here.’

‘I am not only a member of the IAEA,’ said Mikkelsson, raising his weights one last time before levering them back on to their rack with a clang. ‘I am also a member of the Midas Legacy. I assume that Olivia has told you about us.’ He sat up, wiping his face with a flannel. Despite his exertion, he was barely sweating.

‘Yes, she has,’ Nina replied, frowning at her grandmother. ‘Although she’s been very cagey about the details – like who else is involved in it!’

Eddie eyed the weights. ‘A hundred-kilo bench press? Bit risky without a spotter.’

‘One hundred and ten,’ Mikkelsson corrected, ‘and there is no risk, Mr Chase. I often lift far more.’ He stood and donned a white robe over his black tracksuit. ‘Welcome to the Electra hotel, Dr Wilde, Mr Chase.’ He crouched before Macy. ‘And who are you?’

‘Macy,’ the little girl replied, a little hesitantly.

‘How do you do, Macy? My name is Fenrir.’ Mikkelsson extended his hand. ‘Do you like Iceland?’

She smiled and shook it, then pointed out of the panoramic window. ‘There’s a lot of snow.’

‘There is! It can be very cold. But not in here; we keep it warm.’