a bolt of lightning struck his heart. “Wait. You mean exactly like the picture I sent? The picture of the whorls we found on the time-displacement devices?”
“Thought that would get you biting, my friend. Yes, those markings- or whorls, as you say.”
Drake was momentarily at a loss for words. If the markings in the Tomb of the Gods matched the markings they had found on the ancient displacement devices, then that meant they were from the same era.
Drake spoke through a bone-dry mouth. “That means—”
But Torsten Dahl had already thought it through. “That the gods made the devices for the purpose of travelling through time. If you think it through, it makes perfect sense. We know from what we found in Odin’s tomb that they existed. Now we know how they manipulated the course of time.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The Blood King stood at the edge of his small preserve, watching a few of his Bengal tigers stalk a small deer that had been loosed for them. His emotions were torn. On the one hand, it felt good to own and observe at leisure one of the greatest killing machines the planet had ever produced. On the other—it was a crying shame they should be held captive. They deserved more.
Not like his human captives. They deserved what they were about to get.
Boudreau.
The Blood King turned as he heard a number of people trudging through the grass. “Mr. Boudreau,” he grated. “How was CIA detention?”
The man came to a stop several yards away, affording him the respect he demanded but facing him without fear. “Tougher than I had imagined,” he admitted. “Thank you for the quiet extraction.”
The Blood King paused. He sensed the tigers at his back, stalking the terrified deer. The deer would squeal and run, overwhelmed by terror, unable to stare its own death in the eye. Boudreau wasn’t like that. The Blood King gave him a measure of respect.
“Did Matt Drake best you?”
“The CIA was more resourceful than I gave them credit for. That’s all.”
“You do know that if it were me holding the gun, your sister’s death would not have been faked.”
Boudreau’s silence showed he understood.
“The time has come for action,” the Blood King said. “I need someone to destroy the other ranches. The ones on Kauai and the Big Island. Can you do that for me?”
The man he had ordered to be saved from lifelong detention suddenly looked hopeful. “That I can do.”
“You must kill every hostage. Every man, woman and child. Can you do that?”
“Yes, sir.”
The Blood King leaned forward. “Are you sure?”
“I’ll do whatever you ask of me.”
The Blood King betrayed no outward emotion, but was pleased. Boudreau was his most competent fighter and commander. It was good he remained so loyal.
“Go prepare yourself then. Await your instructions.”
His men led the American away and the Blood King motioned for one man to wait behind. It was Claude, the overseer of his Oahu ranch.
“As I said, Claude, the time has come. You are ready, yes?”
“All is prepared. How long should we hold out?”
“You will hold out until you are dead,” the Blood King rasped. “Then your debt to me will be paid. You are part of the distraction. Only a small part, granted, but your sacrifice will be worth it.”
His Oahu overseer stayed silent.
“Does this bother you?”
“No. No, sir.”
“That’s good. And once we have their focus on the ranches, you will unleash the local island cells. It is I who will be going through the Gates of Hell, but Hawaii will burn.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The private CIA jet cruised along at thirty-nine thousand feet. Matt Drake rattled the ice in his empty glass and cracked the seal to another miniature whisky. He had positioned himself alone at the back of the plane in the hope they might respect his solitude. But the constant sideways glances and furious whispers told him the ‘welcome back’ wagon would stop alongside him soon.
And the
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