"Good. But I will also ask that if the opportunity should should arise where the woman could be captured, all the better. Still, take no needless risks." arise where the woman could be captured, all the better. Still, take no needless risks."

Raoul tightened a fist. He had a question that had been bothering him. He had never asked it before. He had learned it best to keep such curiosities to himself, to obey without question. Still, he asked it now. "Why is she so important?"

"The Dragon blood runs strongly through her. Back all the way to our Austrian Hapsburg roots. In fact, she had been chosen for you, Raoul. To be your mate. The Court sees great value in strengthening our lines through such a blood tie."

Raoul stood straighter. He had been denied offspring until now. The few women who took his seed were forced to abort or were killed. It was forbidden to sully their royal bloodlines by producing mud children.

"I hope this information encourages you to seek out an opportunity to secure her. But as I stated, even her blood is expendable if the mission is threatened. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir." Raoul found his breath shortened. He again pictured the woman clutched in his arms, held at knifepoint. The smell of her fear. She would would make a good baroness...and if not that, then at least an excellent brood mare. The Dragon Court hid a few such women across Europe, caged away, kept alive only to produce children. make a good baroness...and if not that, then at least an excellent brood mare. The Dragon Court hid a few such women across Europe, caged away, kept alive only to produce children.

Raoul grew hard thinking about such an opportunity.

"Everything has been arranged in Alexandria," the Imperator finished. "The endgame nears. Get what we need. Slay all who stand in your way."

Raoul slowly nodded, though the Imperator could not see it.

He pictured the black-haired b.i.t.c.h...and what he would do to her.

9:34 A A.M.

RACHEL STOOD behind the wheel of the speedboat, one knee on the bucket seat behind her to support her. Once past the No Wake buoy, she gunned the throttle and shot across the bay. The boat skimmed the flat water, bucking over the occasional wake of another boat. behind the wheel of the speedboat, one knee on the bucket seat behind her to support her. Once past the No Wake buoy, she gunned the throttle and shot across the bay. The boat skimmed the flat water, bucking over the occasional wake of another boat.

Wind whipped her hair. Spray cooled her face. Sunlight glinted brightly off the sapphire blue waters of the Mediterranean. Her every sense rang and tingled.

It helped awaken her after the plane ride and the hours spent in front of the computer. They had landed forty minutes ago. They had breezed through customs, greased by Monk's calls, and had found the boat and gear already waiting for them at the pier to the East Harbor.

Rachel glanced behind her.

The city of Alexandria rose from the arc of the blue bay, a modern sprawl of high-rise apartments, hotels, and time-share properties. Palm trees dotted the garden median dividing the city from the water. There was little evidence of the city's ancient past. Even the famed Alexandrian library, lost centuries ago, had arisen anew as a ma.s.sive complex of gla.s.s, steel, and concrete, decorated with reflecting pools and serviced by a light-rail station.

But now, out in the water, some of the past came alive again. Old wooden fishing boats dotted the bay, painted in vibrant jeweled hues: ruby reds, sapphire blues, emerald greens. Some sails were raised, square-shaped, the skiff's direction guided by two oars, an ancient Egyptian design.

And ahead rose a citadel right out of the Middle Ages, the Fort of Qait Bey. It crested a spit of land that divided the bay into halves. A stone causeway joined the fortress to the mainland. Along its length, fishermen with long poles relaxed and shouted among themselves, as their ancestors probably had for centuries into the past.

Rachel studied the Fort of Qait Bey. Built solely of white limestone and marble, it shone starkly against the deep-blue waters of the bay. The main citadel was built atop a foundation of stone, raised twenty feet. There, towering walls, topped with arched parapets, were guarded by four towers and circled a central higher keep. A flagpole jutted from the inner castle, flapping the Egyptian colors, striped bands of red, white, and black, along with the golden eagle of Saladin.

Squinting, Rachel pictured what had once stood atop this foundation: the forty-story-tall Pharos Lighthouse, built in tiers like a wedding cake, decorated with a giant statue of Poseidon, and tipped by a giant fiery brazier, flaming and smoking.

Nothing remained of this Wonder of the ancient world, except perhaps for a few limestone blocks, rebuilt into the citadel here. French archaeologists had also discovered a tumble of blocks in the East Harbor, along with a twenty-foot section of statue, believed to be the sculpture of Poseidon. It was all that was left of the Wonder since the earthquake devastated the region.

Or was it? Could there be another treasure, one dating even further back in time, hidden below the foundations?

The lost tomb of Alexander the Great.

That's what they had come to find out.

Behind her, the others were gathered over the pile of scuba gear, checking tanks, regulators, and weight belts.

"Do we really need all this gear?" Gray asked. He picked up a full-face mask. "Thick dry suits and all this special head gear?"

"You'll need it all," Vigor said. Her uncle was an experienced diver. Being an archaeologist in the Mediterranean, there was no way not to be. Many of the region's most exciting discoveries were found underwater, including here in Alexandria, where the lost palace of Cleopatra had recently been discovered, sunk under the waves of this same bay.

But there was a reason these underwater treasures had remained hidden for so long.

Her uncle explained. "The pollution here in the East Harbor, coupled with the sewage, has made these waters dangerous to explore without proper protection. The Egyptian tourist board has floated concepts for opening a marine archaeological park here, serviced by gla.s.s-bottomed boats. Some unscrupulous tour operators already offer dive trips. But exposure to heavy-metal toxins and the risk of typhoid is real for those entering the water."

"Great," Monk said. He already looked a tad green around the gills. He clutched the starboard rail, teeth clenched. He kept his head a bit over the side, like a dog hanging his head out a window. "If I don't drown, I'll end up catching some flesh-melting disease. You know, there's a reason I joined the Army Special Forces versus the Navy or Air Force. Solid ground."

"You could stay on the boat," Kat said.

Monk scowled at her.

If they were going to find some underwater tunnel leading to a secret treasure chamber under the fort, they would need everybody. They were all certified divers. They would search in shifts, rotating one person out to rest and guard both boat and gear.

Monk had insisted on the first shift.

Rachel sped their boat along the eastern edge of the spit of land. Ahead, the citadel of Qait Bey grew in size, filling the horizon. It hadn't looked so ma.s.sive from the pier. It would be a daunting task to explore the depths surrounding the fort.

A worry began to nag her. It had been her idea to attempt this search. What if she was wrong? Maybe she had missed a clue pointing somewhere else.

She slowed the boat, nervous energy growing.

They had mapped out the regions into quadrants for a systematic exploration of the bay around the fort. She throttled down, approaching the first dive spot.

Gray stepped next to her. He rested one hand on the seatback. His fingertips brushed her shoulder. "This is quadrant A."

She nodded. "I'll drop anchor here and raise the orange flag warning of divers in the water."

"Are you all right?" he asked, leaning down.

"I just hope this isn't a wild-goose chase, as you Americans say."

He smiled, determination warming into rea.s.surance. "You gave us a start. It was more than we had going into the matter. And I'd rather be chasing wild geese, as we Americans say, than doing nothing."

Without realizing it, she shifted her shoulder so it pressed against his hand. He didn't pull away.

"It's a good plan," he said, his voice softer.

She nodded, at a loss for words, and glanced away from those d.a.m.n eyes of his. She cut the engine and thumbed the release for the anchor. She felt the shudder under her seat as the chained rope dropped.

Gray turned to the others. "Let's suit up. We'll drop here, check our marine radios, then begin the search."

Rachel noted that he kept his hand at her shoulder.

It felt good there.

10:14 A A.M.

GRAY FELL backward into the sea. backward into the sea.

Water swamped over him. Not an inch of skin was exposed to the potential pollution and sewage. The seams of the full-body suit were double-taped and double-sewed. The neck and wrist seals were heavy-duty latex. Even his AGA mask completely covered his face, sealing the Viking hood over his head. The regulator was built into its faceplate, freeing his mouth.

Gray found the spread of peripheral vision through the mask worth the extra time it took to suit up, especially since visibility was poor here in the harbor. Silt and sediment clouded the view to a range of ten to fifteen feet.

Not bad. It could be worse.

His BC buoyancy vest bobbed him back to the surface, full of air, compensating for the weight belt. He watched Rachel and Vigor drop into the sea on the other side of the boat. Kat was already in the water on his side.

He tried the radio, a Buddy Phone, ultrasonically transmitting on an upper single sideband. "Can everyone hear me?" he asked. "Check in."

He got positive responses all around, even from Monk, who was taking up the first guard shift on the boat. Monk also had an Aqua-Vu marine infrared video system to monitor the group below.

"We'll drop to the bottom here and sweep toward sh.o.r.e in a wide spread. Everyone knows their positions."

Affirmatives answered.

"Down we go," he said.

He vented the air in his BC vest and lowered into the water, dragged down by his weight vest. This was the point where many novice divers experienced a panicked claustrophobia. Gray never had. Instead, he felt the opposite, a total freedom. He was weightless, flying, capable of all sorts of aerial acrobatics.

He spotted Rachel dropping on the opposite side of the boat. She was easy to spot by the broad red stripe across the chest of her black suit. They each had a different color for ease of identification. His was blue, Kat's pink, Vigor's green. Monk had already climbed into his suit, too, ready for his shift. His stripe was yellow, somehow fitting considering his att.i.tude toward diving.

Gray watched Rachel. Like him, she seemed to enjoy the freedom below the waves. She twisted and flew, spiraling down with a minimal flicker of fins. He took a moment to enjoy the curves of her form, then concentrated on his own descent.

The sandy bottom rose up, cluttered with debris.

Gray adjusted his buoyancy to keep him drifting just above the seabed. He searched right and left. The others settled into similar postures.

"Can everyone see each other?" he asked.

Nods and affirmatives all around.

"Monk, how's the underwater video camera working?"

"You look like a bunch of ghosts. Visibility is c.r.a.p. I'll lose you once you head out."

"Keep in radio contact. Any problems, you raise the alarm and haul a.s.s over to us." Gray was pretty confident that they had the jump on the Dragon Court, but he was not taking any chances with Raoul. He didn't know how much of a head start they had gained. But there were plenty of other boats about. It was broad daylight.

Still, they needed to act quickly.

Gray pointed an arm. "Okay, we'll head to sh.o.r.e, keep no greater distance than fifteen feet apart. Visual contact with each other at all times."

The four of them could sweep a swath of about twenty-five yards across. Once at sh.o.r.e, if nothing was detected, they would shift down the coastline another twenty-five yards and swim back toward the waiting boat. Back and forth, quadrant by quadrant, they would comb the entire coastline around the fort.

Gray set out. He had a dive knife attached to a sheath on the back of his wrist and a flashlight on the other. With the sun directly overhead and the water only forty feet deep, there was no need for the extra illumination, but it would come in handy to explore nooks and crannies. He had no doubt that the pa.s.sage they sought would not be plain or it would have already been discovered.

It was another riddle to solve.

As he swam, he pondered what they had missed. There must have been more of a clue to the map drawn on the stone than merely pointing to Alexandria. It must have also held some clue embedded about the location here. Had they missed something? Had Raoul stolen a clue out of the cave below Saint Peter's tomb? Did the Dragon Court already have the answer?

Unconsciously he had begun to swim faster. He lost sight of Kat on his right. He was last in line on this side. He slowed and she reappeared. Satisfied, he moved onward. A shape appeared ahead, jutting from the sandy bottom. A rock? A ridge of reef?

He kicked forward.

Out of the silty gloom, it appeared.

What the h.e.l.l...?

The stone face stared back at him, human, worn by the sea and time, but its features were surprisingly clear, the expression stoic. Its upper torso rode atop the squat form of a lion.

Kat had noted his attention and swept slightly closer. "A sphinx?"

"Another one over here," Vigor announced. "Broken, on its side. Divers have reported dozens of them littered around the seabed in the shadow of the fort. Some of the decorations from the original lighthouse."

Despite the urgency, Gray stared at the statue, amazed. He studied the face, sculpted by hands two thousand years old. He reached one arm out and touched it, sensing the immense breadth of time between himself and that sculptor.

Vigor spoke out of nowhere. "Fitting that these masters of riddles should be guarding this mystery."

Gray pulled back his hand. "What do you mean?"

A chuckle. "Don't you know the story of the Sphinx? The monster terrorized the people of Thebe, eating them if they couldn't solve its riddle. 'What has one voice, and is four-footed, two-footed, and three-footed?'"

"And the answer?" Gray asked.

"Mankind," Kat said next to him. "We crawl on all fours as babes, then upright on two feet as adults, and lean upon a staff in old age."

Vigor continued. "Oedipus solved the riddle and the Sphinx threw herself off a cliff and died."

"Toppling from a height," Gray said. "Like these sphinxes."

He pushed away from the stone statue and swam onward. They had their own riddle to solve. After another ten minutes of silent searching, they reached the rocky coastline. Gray had come across a tumble of giant blocks, but no pa.s.sage, no opening, no clues.

"Back again," he said.

They shifted down the coast and set out again, swimming away from the sh.o.r.eline toward the boat.

"Everything quiet up there, Monk?" Gray asked.

"Getting a nice suntan."

"Make sure you use SPF 30. We'll be down here a while."

"Aye, aye, Captain."

Gray continued for another forty minutes, sweeping to the boat, then back again. He came across a sunken husk of a rusted ship, more chunks of stone blocks, a broken pillar, even an inscribed chunk of obelisk. Fish in a rainbow of hues danced away.

He checked his air gauge. He was breathing conservatively. He still had half a tank left. "How's everyone's air holding up?"