Nina’s finger fell upon the coast of Tunisia, the Gulf of Gabès. “Is that it?” Sophia demanded.

“It matches, yes,” said Nina, looking back and forth between the two maps. “River mouths here and here, this island just off the coast to the east…”

Corvus stepped up to the table. “Tunisia?”

“Maybe not,” Sophia told him, tracing the route over the parchment from the coast to the site of the Tomb. “The scale doesn’t-”

“Do you mind?” snapped Nina, academic annoyance at being second-guessed overcoming any worries about retribution. “Let’s see, this lake off to the west must be this one here on the modern map, which is about fifty miles from the coast. Even taking inaccuracies of scale into account, it’s roughly a third of the way from the coast to the end of the route, so the Tomb must be about a hundred and fifty miles inland, southwest of Gabès. Which would place it in-”

“Algeria,” Chase announced from across the room. “Know it well.”

“Oh yes,” said Sophia with a disparaging sigh, “stargazing in the Grand Erg, the most incredible sky you’ve ever seen, how many times did I hear that story?”

“Photograph it,” Corvus ordered one of his men, who clambered onto a stool to take pictures of the completed map from above. “Thank you, Dr. Wilde. Now that you have located the Tomb of Hercules, I believe my people will be able to take things from here.”

“Let me guess,” said Nina, eyeing him defiantly. “You’re going to fly us back to New York in your private jet?”

“Hardly.” He turned to Komosa. “Dispose of them.”

“No.” The authority in Sophia’s voice surprised even Corvus; an absolute command. “We still need them.”

“Why, my dear?” Corvus asked slowly.

“Because, my dear, Dr. Wilde hasn’t told us everything.” She grabbed Nina’s ponytail and pulled her head back. Nina gasped in pain. “Have you, Nina?”

“Don’t know what you mean,” Nina said through her teeth.

“Oh but you do. Remember on the flight to Botswana, you told me how you thought there were more clues hidden within the text of Hermocrates, clues that didn’t just concern the location of the Tomb, but also how to get inside it?” Sophia twisted her wrist, pulling Nina’s hair still harder. “I think you’re holding back, that you’re hoping that even if we find the Tomb we won’t be able to gain entry-or even fall victim to booby traps.”

“Booby traps wouldn’t still be working after thousands of years,” Nina growled. “This isn’t a game of Tomb Raider.”

Chase cleared his throat. “Er, actually, there were some in Tibet that still worked. Sort of. They nearly killed me and Jason on the way out.” Despite her pain, Nina glared at him. “Yeah, I know. Should have told you about that. Sorry.”

“This is why your relationship isn’t working,” said Sophia to Nina. “Lack of communication.” She let go of her hair. “So, enlighten us. How do we get in?”

“I don’t know,” Nina told her truthfully.

Sophia nodded to Komosa, who swept down his huge fist to punch Chase in the stomach. He whooped for breath. “How do we get in?” she asked again.

“Jesus!” said Nina, horrified. “I don’t know!”

Another nod, and Komosa took the blackjack and smacked it viciously down on Chase’s neck. He let out a cry of agony as he fell from the chair, banging his head on the library’s hard wooden floor.

Sophia stared down coldly at him. “How do we get in?”

“You fucking bitch!” Nina screamed. “I told you, I don’t know! Leave him alone!”

Sophia didn’t need to nod this time for Komosa to turn to the little table and pick up the masonry drill. He pumped the trigger twice, the device making a sinister robotic whine each time, then bent down and placed the tip against Chase’s shoulder blade. Before Nina could say a word, he squeezed the trigger.

Chase screamed as the heavy-duty drill bit tore into his flesh. Blood sprayed out, spattering the floor. Even Corvus seemed shocked.

“Stop!” Nina wailed, begging Sophia. “Stop, stop it! I don’t know, I don’t fucking know! But I’ll find out, I’ll tell you, just please stop!”

Sophia considered for a moment, then flicked a finger back at the little table. Looking disappointed, Komosa returned the drill to its place, blood dripping from the tip.

Not caring if anyone tried to stop her, Nina ran to Chase. The wound in his back was about a half inch wide, a torn hole running with blood, so much that she couldn’t see how deeply the drill had penetrated. Chase shivered, face twisted with mute pain. She knelt and pressed one palm over the brimming gash, feeling hot liquid ooze between her fingers as she looked up at Sophia. “For God’s sake, help him! I’ll do what you want, I’ll work out how to get into the Tomb!”

“Fix him up,” ordered Sophia. Komosa pulled Nina away from Chase. She protested and struggled, but then two more men lifted the barely conscious Chase and took him from the room.

“Glad to have you aboard,” Sophia told her with frosty triumph. “Get to work-you have until we find the Tomb to decipher the text. Otherwise Eddie will need more than a few bandages to fix what Joe does to him.” She started across the room as if to follow the men carrying Chase, then suddenly stopped and kicked Nina hard in the side with the pointed toe of her boot. Nina doubled over in agony. “And if you ever call me a bitch again, I’ll cut out your fucking tongue.” With that, she turned on her high heels and left the library.

“Get up, Dr. Wilde,” ordered Corvus. “You have work to do. I shall arrange for an expedition to Algeria as soon as possible.” He too left the library, pausing at the door. “By the way, go and wash. I don’t want you to ruin the parchments.”

With that he exited, leaving Nina to stare at the blood on her hands.

The three helicopters thundered over the Sahara, nothing in sight below but mile after mile of gnarled, shimmering sand dunes. In the shade, the temperature would have been around eighty-five degrees Fahrenheit…but there was no shade, the merciless glare of the sun baking everything with an extra twenty degrees of sickening heat.

The cabin of the lead helicopter, a large Sikorsky S-92 transporter, was air-conditioned, but neither Nina nor Chase took any comfort from the fact. It had been two days since they were reunited, but in that time Nina had come no nearer to uncovering the final secrets hidden within the Hermocrates text.

And her time was rapidly running out.

“Ten minutes,” announced Sophia. She and Komosa were in the rear section of the cabin with Chase and Nina, Corvus riding in the copilot’s seat up front. “I hope you have a brainstorm soon, Nina.”

“These aren’t exactly ideal conditions,” Nina complained. Her hands were cuffed in front of her so she could still work with the parchments. Chase’s hands were locked behind his back. The wound to his shoulder had been treated and bandaged, but he was still in considerable pain. For no apparent reason other than her own sadistic amusement, Sophia had given him back his leather jacket-which because of the handcuffs he could now not take off, sweating even under the cooling breeze from the air conditioner.

The same breeze ruffled the pages Nina was holding, to her irritation. But the distraction was a minor one, her mind focused as fully as it could be on her task.

She was more convinced than ever that there was a clue within Plato’s words, a cryptic linguistic key that would unlock the puzzle. With each new reading of the ancient Greek text, that key seemed to come a tantalizing step closer.

But not close enough for her to turn it. She frowned.

“No joy?” asked Chase. Compared to his usual self, he had been distinctly muted since his injury.

She shook her head. “All I can think of is that there’s some kind of cipher code which is used to find the relevant words describing how to get into the Tomb-like if word three, line six, page one is ‘turn,’ word seven of line twelve is ‘key,’ and so on. I mean, it flat-out says that there are words hidden among other words! But I can’t find anything that could be the cipher itself. There needs to be a starting point, a way to know where to begin and how to proceed, otherwise it would be impossible even for the intended recipient to work it out. Only… there isn’t one.”