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No one would have suspected the Achilles’s role in the crash since the laser looked exactly like a telescope and was only visible for a short time while the protective white clamshell dome covering it was opened. Contrary to movie convention, no beam would have been visible during the essentially silent operation of the device.

Golov appreciated the defensive capabilities that rendered the Achilles virtually invulnerable to attack, but as a former navy captain, his preference was its offensive weaponry.

The onboard hangar held a Russian Ka-226 utility helicopter. Instead of a tail rotor, the chopper had twin rotors mounted one on top of the other that spun in opposite directions to provide stability. The rear fuselage consisted of a detachable pod that could be swapped in minutes. Normally, it held a passenger compartment for ferrying Antonovich when he needed to attend meetings on land. Another pod could be bolted on that carried four Switchblade anti-ship missiles.

But the Achilles’s deadliest weapon rose from doors concealed in the roof of the yacht so that it had a two-hundred-and-seventy-degree firing arc. Although it had a barrel like many warship cannons, this was no ordinary gun. It was a railgun.

Rather than using a chemical reaction to fire a shell with a high-explosive warhead, the railgun propelled its rounds electromagnetically, allowing it to shoot projectiles at incredible speeds, more than twice as fast as the round fired by an Abrams tank. The hypersonic rounds packed so much energy that an explosive warhead was unnecessary. The impact of its heavy tungsten shell at more than six thousand miles an hour could shatter the most heavily armored hull and cause steel to vaporize.

Ever since he took command of the Achilles, Golov had been eager to test out the railgun’s firepower. The attack on the Dijkstra freighter Narwhal had given him that opportunity.

The Narwhal had been sent to Malta to pick up the stolen Jaffa Column. Golov had a duplicate freighter painted to look just like it and take the Narwhal’s place when it picked up the massive stone obelisk, but he had to get rid of the original ship for the plan to work. The railgun provided the ideal solution and had performed perfectly. It took just seven rounds to send the Narwhal to the bottom.

Golov was sure his ultimate plan would work. But with the diary put back in play by whoever had rescued Erion Kula, he had more work to do.

“My dear,” he said to Ivana as they walked, “let’s go meet our host.”

From the sun-dappled deck, Golov spotted the man from the Maltese Oceanic Museum, which was hosting both the gala tomorrow night and the auction the day after that. He wore a crisp beige suit and mirrored sunglasses and gave them a smart wave when he saw them.

The Achilles was docked in Valletta’s Grand Harbour, with postcard-perfect views all around them and nearly as many high-end yachts as they’d seen in Monte Carlo. The sandy-colored capital city abutting the port was built like a fortress because it was one, with high limestone walls bordering nearly every shore. Situated at the strategic center of the Mediterranean, the island had been attacked dozens of times over the centuries, from the Greeks and Romans of antiquity to the Nazi bombers of World War II, though the battlements were now used by tourists as photo ops rather than for any defensive purpose.

Golov and Ivana walked down the gangplank and shook hands with Spadaro.

“Captain Sergey Golov and Ivana Semova, I presume,” Spadaro said in English. “My name is Emvin Spadaro. How wonderful to meet you. Welcome to Malta. We hope you find it as beautiful as we do.” Ivana went by her long-passed mother’s surname so that she and her father wouldn’t raise any questions about their relationship.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Spadaro,” Golov said. “You will be showing us the sights?”

“It will be my pleasure. After we see the museum, I’ve arranged for a private tour of some of the locations visited by Napoleon himself during the French invasion of Malta. I think you will enjoy it. Will Mr. Antonovich be joining us today?”

“I’m afraid not. We will be his representatives on this outing.”

“Before I forget,” Spadaro said, reaching into his jacket and removing an envelope that he handed to Golov, “here are your tickets to the gala tomorrow night. Black tie, of course.”

“We’re looking forward to it.”

They got into his Mercedes.

“The museum is only a five-minute ride away,” Spadaro said as he pulled away. “As you probably saw in the news, we had a tragic situation at the museum yesterday, but I’m happy to say it’s been resolved. A crane was used in an attack on the museum, damaging a corner of the façade. Some gunfire was also involved, and, sadly, we lost our curator, William Kensington, but the perpetrators have been caught. Our director decided that William would want us to go on with the gala and auction as planned, so there has been no change to the schedule.”

Ivana and Golov exchanged glances.

“Yes, we did hear about that,” Golov said. “Were any of the auction lots stolen?”

“Oh, no,” Spadaro replied quickly. “No. All of the pieces are safely stored in our warehouse, which was not affected.”

“We’d like to see the warehouse as well,” Ivana said.

“Absolutely. It’s on the way, not far from the museum. I will tell you, however, that we will not be able to go inside, for security reasons.”

“The artifacts are kept there?”

“Yes. It is climate-controll

ed and guarded around the clock by the best security system on the island. In addition, we have numerous guards on staff to make sure the items will be safe until the auction. But rest assured, you will be able to see the items to bid on in a fantastic new way that I’m excited to show you.”

As promised, they arrived at the warehouse after a short drive through the ancient city’s winding streets. The modern steel construction stood out against the backdrop of classic stone buildings around it. Golov wondered if it had been converted from a shipping warehouse after the new container port had been built on the southeast side of the island. That’s where the Narwhal’s double would be docking tomorrow to pick up the Jaffa Column.

They stopped next to a gate manned by two armed guards. An imposing chain-link fence topped with razor wire surrounded the building.


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