Herculean (Cerberus Group Book 1) by Jeremy Robinson, Sean Ellis Read Free Book Online Page A

share the truth about the Society with this man, no matter who he claimed to be or how much he claimed to know. But what tack should she take? What lie should she tell?
    Before she could make up her mind, Kenner chortled again and clapped her shoulder. Fiona jerked away as if his touch had been red hot, but he continued laughing, oblivious to her reaction. “Just having a spot of fun with you,” he said, though his humor sounded forced. “Of course I’m not part of that group, if it even exists at all. And your business at the museum is none of mine. Where can I drop you?”
    The abrupt reversal stunned Fiona almost as much as the uninvited familiarity, and it took her a moment to gather her wits. Did he want her to take him to Pierce? Was that his game? If so, she wasn’t going to play.
    “That old fort,” she said, choosing one of Heraklion’s most notable landmarks.
    “The Koules fortress?” There was a hint of amusement in his voice, as if he sensed what she was trying to do.
    “That’s the one.”
    Kenner said nothing more, but at the next intersection he made a right turn, heading in the direction of the old harbor. They made the short journey in almost complete silence. Kenner merely looked ahead, focused on the road. A few minutes later, the marina appeared. Fiona could just make out the squat silhouette of the old Venetian fortress that had once guarded the port. It was situated on a causeway that was part of the long breakwater, which still sheltered the marina.
    Kenner stopped the car near the entrance to the breakwater, which was barricaded to prevent vehicle traffic. He looked out at the fort. “Rather isolated here.”
    “I’ll be fine.” Without another word, Fiona opened the door and got out.
    “If you should see your uncle,” Kenner called out, “Ask him to contact me. I have some information that may be of interest to him. Provided he’s still looking for Hercules, of course.”
    Fiona kept walking toward the old monument. The faint noise of an engine revving and tires crunching on pavement prompted her to glance over her shoulder. The car was moving away.
    Kenner had not been wrong about how isolated the place was, but Fiona was a lot more worried about him coming back than running into some lurking stranger. She calculated the distance to the edge of the causeway. If Kenner came after her, she would leap into the harbor and swim for it.
    She kept walking, but when the receding taillights disappeared, she ducked behind a barrier and waited. A minute. Five minutes. There was no sign of Kenner.
    She dug her phone from a pocket, checking for messages from Pierce. Nothing. She started to tap out a text message to him, but stopped short of sending it. If he had been caught or arrested, then the police would be monitoring his phone. They might be able to use it to track her down.
    Even if he had not been captured, he would be observing the ‘no contact’ rule that had been part of the plan.
    She left the message unsent.
    The designated rendezvous was about two miles away, at the Heraklion Airport. Her arrival at such a late hour would be less likely to attract unwanted attention than anywhere else, even at a hotel, but she knew the real reason he had chosen the airport for a fallback position. If he was not there waiting, she would board a waiting jet, which would take her to a destination known only to the pilots. The Gulfstream G550 was owned and operated by one of the Herculean Society’s many shadow enterprises—legitimate corporations that facilitated operations in every part of the globe, not to mention providing a steady source of revenue. The flight crew, like most of the people employed by the Society’s subsidiary ventures, were unaware of the role they played in protecting the world from history, and history from the world. They did not even know the Herculean Society existed, much less that they were a part of it. But they would follow Pierce’s instructions to the