Castille grabbed the control stick and pushed his suit’s thrusters to full power, shooting upwards in a spray of bubbles as the submersible swooped down at him. It was close enough for him to see the word Zeus painted on the control sphere and the pilot lying on his belly inside, face magnified and distorted into a leer by the glass bubble.

The manipulator arm swung at him, but he rolled, using his fins to change direction and duck under it. He looked back, but the pilot was keeping hold of the explosive package, determined to deliver it before dealing with him.

There was only one possible target.

The entrance to the temple.

“Edward!” he screamed, knowing there was no chance of being heard. “Get out of there! Get out!”

The sub’s thrusters spewed out bubbles, the whirling propellers reversing to bring the vessel to a stop at the base of the wall. The arm extended, reaching smoothly into the narrow passageway before retracting again.

The gleaming steel claw was now empty.

Castille put his thumb on the thruster control. If he could get in there fast enough, he might be able to pull the explosives clear.

The submersible pilot wasn’t going to give him the chance. The arm rising above its hull like a scorpion’s tail, the vessel swung around again, hunting for him.

Spotlights dazzled him. Another burst of froth from the sub’s propellers, driving it forwards.

Straight for him.

“Very well…” he whispered. He released the control stick, reaching for his equipment belt.

The submersible accelerated, its arm descending and stretching out ahead of it like a lance.

Castille waited, holding still.

And he whipped up his grappling gun and fired it straight at the cockpit bubble.

The pointed steel tip of the grapnel hit the glass-and stopped dead, penetrating barely more than a centimeter before the force of the water sweeping over the submersible tore it free. It clattered away beneath the sub, trailing its cable behind it.

Castille had already dropped the gun and powered up his thrusters again, twisting to climb over to one side of the onrushing sub. The pilot, startled by the impact, couldn’t react quickly enough to catch him with the outstretched arm.

But he was fast enough to pull the sub around in a sweeping turn, ready to pursue.

Castille knew his suit didn’t have the power to outrun the sub. He just hoped he wouldn’t have to.

In the cockpit, the pilot grinned savagely as he saw the bright yellow shell of Castille’s deep suit pinned in his spotlights. He brought the throttle to full power, preparing to ram him, an underwater hit-and-run…

The tiny mark left by the grapnel suddenly grew. And kept growing, crazed tendrils sweeping outwards across the bubble with an awful, tooth-grinding screech of cracking glass. The immense pressure of the ocean bore down against the new flaw in the surface, expanding it-

With a bang as loud as artillery fire, the submersible’s cockpit imploded. Huge shards of three-inch-thick glass hit the pilot at the speed of sound, reducing him to a red haze that bloomed through the churning air bubbles like a huge and gory flower. The sub nose-dived into the seabed, plowing up a huge swath of sand.

Castille turned around. There might still be time for him to reach the explosives…

There wasn’t.

A shockwave burst from the end of the passage. Castille was slammed away by the deafening blast as if hit by a car, tumbling out of control, all vision obliterated by the enormous cloud of silt.

But he didn’t need to see to know that the thunderous vibrations hitting him through the water after the blast were caused by massive stone blocks collapsing into the tunnel, sealing it forever.

Inside the altar chamber, Chase was about to lower Kari into the shaft when a surge of water erupted beneath them, knocking them both onto their backs as it blasted into the chamber like a geyser. Chunks of debris rained down, hammer-blow impacts against their suits.

“Oh my God!” Kari screamed. For the first time since Chase had known her, she was on the verge of panic. “What was that, what happened?”

“Kari. Kari!” He held her arms, trying to calm her. “We’re okay, we’re all right! Let me check your suit.”

They helped each other to their feet, examining the casing of the deep suits. Both had sustained some dents, but nothing that seemed to compromise their integrity. Not, Chase realized, that it mattered.

“What happened?” Kari asked again.

Chase looked at the shaft. “They blew up the passage. We’re sealed in.”

Starkman’s men had forced the passengers and crew of the Evenor to assemble on the helipad. A quick head count told Nina that eight of the crew were dead.

The other ship moved alongside, crewmen throwing ropes across to tie the two vessels together. Bumpers hanging over the side of the decks creaked and squealed as they rubbed against each other in the swell.

A tall man climbed aboard the Evenor, accompanied by two armed guards. He strode across the aft deck, signaling the men to bring Nina to him. Captain Matthews protested, but the guns waved in his face quickly silenced him.

Nina already knew whom she was facing. She had seen the hard, angular features before.

“Dr. Wilde,” he said. “We meet at last. My name is Giovanni Qobras.”

TWENTY-ONE

I know who you are,” Nina said, trying not to let her fear show. “What do you want?”

“What do I want?” The question provoked the tiniest flicker of amusement on Qobras’s stern face. “I want what everybody wants, Dr. Wilde. I want peace and security for the world. And thanks to you, I can now bring that about.” His intense gaze flicked over to Philby. “And thanks to you too, Jack. It’s been some time since we last met. Ten years, wasn’t it?”

“I was rather hoping I’d never have to meet you again,” said Philby, voice quavering.

Nina rounded on him. “You know him, Jonathan?”

“Jack-Jonathan, rather, I suppose it’s more dignified for a professor-has helped me keep anyone from finding Atlantis before,” said Qobras. He gestured to one of his men, who led Philby from the group of prisoners. “And now… Well.” He waved a hand at the empty ocean. “Atlantis will be lost forever, because it will be destroyed.”

“Why?” demanded Nina. “What secret could there possibly be that it’s worth destroying the most important archaeological find ever? And the lives of all the people you’ve killed?”

“If you knew, you wouldn’t need to ask that question,” Qobras replied. “You would be helping me. But I see your mind has been poisoned by the Frosts, like your parents. A shame. You could have accomplished so much if you hadn’t chosen the wrong path.”

“Wait, what about my parents?” But Qobras turned away as Starkman emerged from the superstructure.

“I’ve trashed the hard drive with the recordings from the dive, Giovanni,” Starkman announced. “All we have to do now is destroy the temple itself and there’ll be nothing left.”

“Excellent,” said Qobras. He was about to say something else when somebody urgently called his name. One of his men jumped between the two ships and ran to the helipad.

“Sir!” the man gasped, looking concerned. “Some thing’s gone wrong down below!”

“What happened?” Qobras asked.

“The Zeus destroyed the Frost submersible”-Trulli shoved forward, shouting and swearing at Qobras, until two of the guards pushed him back at gunpoint-“and detonated one of the demolition charges. But… our hydrophones heard an implosion.”