Qobras’s lips curled into a sneer. “You think that killing me will end the Brotherhood?”

“You really have no idea what’s going to happen, do you?” said Frost, laughing again. “I suppose I was more worried about your agents than I needed to be.”

“Just do whatever you’re going to do to me,” Qobras growled.

“I’m not going to do anything,” Frost said. “I think Dr. Wilde should have that privilege.”

“What?” Nina asked, confused.

Frost walked to her, his voice falling to a velvety burr. “Dr. Wilde… Nina. This man murdered your parents. He has to pay for what he’s done. Justice must be served.”

“The only criminal here is you, Frost!” Qobras shouted. One of the guards kicked him hard in the chest, leaving him gasping.

“Well, yes, but…” Nina looked at Qobras. “Shouldn’t he be put on trial for everything he’s done?”

“By whom? This man is above the law. He’s murdered with impunity for decades all around the world.” Frost unzipped his jacket and reached inside it. “The only justice he deserves is the same kind that he believes he delivers.” He pulled out a pistol, and pressed it into Nina’s palm. “For all the crimes he has committed, for everything he’s done to hurt you… you know what you have to do.”

Nina stared at the gun in disbelief, then looked up at Frost. There was no sign on his face that he was anything other than deadly serious.

“Hang on a minute,” said Chase, concerned. “I want this bastard dead as much as you do, but a summary execution? That’s not justice, that’s murder. And you can’t ask Nina to become a murderer!”

“Please stay out of this, Mr. Chase,” Frost said, almost dismissively. “This is a decision that only Dr. Wilde can make.”

“Kari!” Chase looked at her for support. She seemed torn, glancing between Frost, Nina, Chase…

“It’s… my father knows best,” she said eventually, not sounding entirely sure of her words.

Frost put his hands on Nina’s arms as he dropped his voice almost to a whisper. “It’s up to you, Nina. You know what he’s done, you know that he has to pay.” One hand closed softly around the gun, squeezing her fingers on the grip. “He killed your parents, Nina. He murdered them, right here inside this mountain. You should take from him what he took from you. Do it.”

Nina’s eyes filled with tears. Lips clenched tight, jaw trembling, she looked past Frost at the kneeling figure of Qobras.

“Far…” Kari began, but a single look from Frost silenced her. He released Nina and moved back.

Nina took a step forward, every muscle and tendon taut. The gun felt cold and heavy in her hand. Qobras watched her, the expression on his face one not of fear or anger, but cold contempt.

The burning pain in her heart transmuted, taking on form. Hate.

“Nina!” Chase called behind her, but she barely heard him.

She raised the gun, pointing it first at Qobras’s chest, then, more decisively, at his face. Starkman tensed, but remained still, his one eye watching warily.

Qobras stared silently back up at her. The man who had tried to kill her and her friends. Who had killed her friends, Castille and the crew of the Nereid.

Who had killed her parents, her family, the people she loved…

Tears blurred her vision. She blinked them away, feeling them turn cold as they ran down her cheeks. Qobras swam back into sharp focus, still regarding her icily.

Her finger tightened on the trigger. The pistol’s hammer drew back slowly, only the tiniest amount of extra pressure needed to fire…

Then it stopped.

Eyes brimming with tears once more, Nina stepped back, lowering the weapon.

“I don’t know who you think I am,” she whispered, “but you’re wrong. My DNA doesn’t control who I am or what I do. I wanted you to know that.” She carefully eased her grip on the trigger, the hammer returning to its original position, then walked back to Frost. “I can’t kill him. I won’t.”

To her surprise, Frost’s tone was light. “Well of course you can’t!” he exclaimed, taking the pistol back. “I didn’t think you could. But just in case you surprised me… it’s not even loaded.”

“What do you…” Nina gaped. “You were testing me?”

“I’m sorry. But I wanted to be sure of the kind of person you really are.”

Kari hurried over to Nina, standing almost defensively between her and Frost. “You had no right to do that to her! How could you not trust my judgment?”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “As I said, I wanted to be sure.”

The screech of the saw ceased abruptly. A moment later came a heavy bang as the section cut out of the wall fell to the ground.

“Watch them,” Frost ordered his men of the prisoners, before crossing to the wall and peering through the new gap. He took a flashlight from the blond man, then clambered through the narrow hole and looked back at Kari and Nina. “Come on.”

Sharing a look, the two women slipped through after him. Chase followed without being asked, which Nina noticed earned him a somewhat irritated frown from Frost. Schenk then entered, the blond man moving in front of the hole as if guarding it.

Frost hurried up the steps into the temple. By the time Nina caught up, he was already examining the lid of the king’s sarcophagus, probing for gaps. “Help me with this,” he ordered. Schenk pushed past her, wielding a crowbar. Chase joined them to heave at the top of the sarcophagus.

The three men strained, Schenk pulling down on the crowbar with all his weight. The lid shifted slightly.

“Come on, you bugger!” Chase groaned. “One, two, three!”

They all strained again-and this time the lid lifted enough for them to slide it aside. Another push and the interior of the coffin was exposed; a third, and the stone slab crashed to the floor of the temple and broke in two. Nina winced at the destruction.

Frost picked up his flashlight and leaned eagerly over the side of the sarcophagus. “My God, look at it!”

Nina and Kari joined him. Nina felt an involuntary flash of fear at the sight, a literal face of death staring up at her like a refugee from a nightmare. The body inside the sarcophagus, sealed in the stone container for thousands of years, was blackened and shriveled, the remains of the long-rotted lips twisted back into a malevolent sneer around jutting teeth.

“Hello, mummy,” Chase whispered, grinning. Nina jabbed him with her elbow.

Frost examined the corpse more closely. “The last king of the Atlanteans… still intact.” He took a small pouch from his coat and removed a needlelike probe from it, poking carefully at the wizened skin. “Open the other one, quickly,” he told Schenk and Chase.

“What’s the rush?” asked Chase. “It’s not like they’re going anywhere.”

“Just do it,” Frost snapped. He switched the probe to his other hand, taking a scalpel from the pouch and bending down over the dead king’s face like a surgeon about to operate.

“What are you doing?” Nina asked, concerned. “This isn’t anything like standard practice.”

“I need to get a DNA sample,” said Frost, as if that explained everything. The faint scrape of the scalpel cutting through the mummified flesh was drowned out by the crunch of stone against stone as Chase and Schenk lifted the lid of the other sarcophagus.

“But really, we should…” Nina cringed again as the second lid slammed to the ground. She went to look inside while Frost was still engrossed with the first corpse, teasing a piece of the king’s curled lips into a plastic container.

Queen Calea was in much the same state as her husband, only the tattered remains of the clothing providing any immediate indication that the body was that of a woman. “It’s Camilla Parker-Bowles!” Chase exclaimed jovially as he peered into the sarcophagus.

“Will you shut up?” Nina demanded.

“Kari,” said Frost, not looking up from his “operation,” “I think it might be safer if you took Nina back to the helicopter.”