Dusk was settling and after all the craziness that happened that afternoon, Nate was relieved that when he pulled himself out of the water on the Buda side of the city, no one noticed him. He looked back to see if any of the mercenaries had surfaced but all he could see were people crowded around the damaged section of the bridge where the Humvee crashed through and the lights of emergency services as they arrived on scene.

Below the bridge, the water police were speeding along the Danube, their blue and red lights flashing in the darkening sky, heading straight for where the car splashed down. The entire city seemed to be one continuous blaring siren and he knew he had to hurry before it went into complete lockdown.

An icy wind rustled the trees and he started shivering, he had to get back to his hotel as quick as he could but also as inconspicuous as he could which was going to be difficult given he was soaking from head to toe and shivering uncontrollably. The worrying thought of hypothermia began to weed its way into his mind.

"Alright" he said, giving himself a self-assessment to keep his mind going. "My legs work, my head hurts, my shoulders wrenched, my ribs are probably broken and I'm freezing my ass off. The hotel isn't far, get back to it, find Sully. Get the hell out of here."

He hurried off, cold and miserable, towards the hotel.

"After a hot shower" he amended.

Nate thumped on the door, "Sully! It's me, let me in!" he said through chattering teeth. He was shivering uncontrollably now, his arms wrapped around himself, rubbing and trying to get warm.

Thumping on the door again he realised he had no idea if his friend had made it back to the hotel or in what condition he was in, but he prayed he was well enough to open the door at least. Though after what they had done in the last couple of hours, he doubted God would be in a giving mood.

After what felt like an eternity in a frozen hell, he heard the tell-tale sound of a security chain sliding off and the deadbolt being turned. The door opened and there stood Victor Sullivan in a thick blue bathrobe, glass of whiskey in one hand and one of his disgusting cigars poking out the side of his mouth. His wide grin faded when he saw the condition Nate was in.

"Christ, kid you look like hell" he said, ushering him inside.

Nate ignored him, throwing his soaked backpack on the floor - it, somehow, having survived the day's events intact - and rushed into the bathroom. He slammed the door shut and turned on the shower, tore off his clothes and hopped in and stayed there until the feeling returned in his fingers. Then he stayed there for longer, savouring the warmth from the stream of water coming out of the showerhead. Eventually Sully was knocking on the door, "Nate?"

Sighing, he very reluctantly turned off the shower. He got out and dried himself and pulled on a second robe. He opened the door to find Sully standing there with a second glass and a concerned look on his face, "Feeling better, kid?" he asked.

Nate took the glass and gulped it down in one go, the liquid burning his throat as it passed.

"Getting there," he said, exhaustion finally setting in. He put the glass on the small table where the letters of Clerke and Wendover were scattered. Nate looked at Sully with a raised eyebrow.

"Doing a bit of research" he said. And then asked, "What the hell happened to you?"

Nate took a seat on the couch. He grabbed the remote and flicked on the TV, changing channels until he found an English-speaking news channel. The screen showed the destruction of Matthias Church, a gaping hole gashed down the middle of it where the bell tower fell, as if a giant creature had gouged it with a single claw.

"I've been watching," Sully said. "I assume this is your handiwork?"

Nate grimaced, "Not exactly by design. I took Khanoğlu's thugs on a merry chase through Budapest" and he proceeded to explain everything that happened since they were separated. From the hidden stairwell leading to Matthias Church, the rocket launcher and subsequent collapsing of the bell tower to being chased through the streets of Budapest by a Humvee with a turret and finally ending up in the Danube River.

"Jesus, Nate" Sully said pouring him another drink. He had no other words.

Nate nodded, "Tell me about it. What happened to you?"

"Well, eh, I took the tunnel and went up some stairs which lead into the sewer. I walked a bit and came to a ladder and exited the sewer from there. I then came here and waited for you."

Nate stared at him and Sully had the courtesy to look embarrassed.

"You're joking, right?"

Sully shrugged but said nothing.

"No mercs?"

"No."

"No bullets?"

"Nah."

"Not even a grazed knee?"

"Well I jammed my finger when I tried to move the manhole cover."

He held up his pinkie finger to show a bruised nail.

Nate shook his head, "For Christ's sake."

Sully laughed, "I'm blessed." And then asked, "You hungry? We have a lot of planning to do."

Nate frowned, "What do you mean 'a lot of planning'?"

"Well we want to get to Sarai Batu before Khanoğlu and his cronies get there."

"Sarai Batu" he laughed. "Sully, we're not going to Sarai Batu."

It was Sully's turn to frown, "And why the hell not, kid?"

Nate stood and pointed to the TV where the news had a rolling coverage of the events at the Church. The news presenter was discussing with some so-called expert about the armed men dressed in black and the potential terror-related links. Along the bottom the ticker rolled past summarising events and mentioned the casualty list was at 63 injured and 13 dead, a number expected to rise.

"That's why, Sully. Thirteen dead and it could easily have been one of us. Khanoğlu is a madman and he has resources we couldn't dream of. Not only is he probably already on his way to Sarai Batu, he probably has an army backing him up.

"No Sully, I'm not going to Sarai Batu, I'm going the other damn way!"

He grabbed his pack and started haphazardly throwing in all his possessions.

"What about the Crown Jewels?"

"If he can find them, he can have them. All the power to him."

"The hell he can" Sully barked, grabbing the pack and tossing it on the table. "We've done the hard work here, Nate. I'm not going to sit by and let him and that British pansy take my treasure!"

There it was again, 'my' treasure.

"Sully, he has an army! And he simply does not care about collateral damage."

"Him having an army plays into our hands" Sully insisted, stalking about the room like a caged lion. "He can't move about with them as quickly as we can on our own. We will be in and out of there before he even gets to the site."

Nate stared at him, "Sully, no. I'm out."

Suddenly he hurled his glass at Nate who ducked and heard it smashed against the wall behind him, glass fragments showered over him.

"Sully, what the hell!"

There was a rage in Sully's eyes, similar to what he saw before and Nate grew concerned. "What is going on with you?"

"I know what your game is, Nate."

"What the hell are you talking about?" he asked, confused.

"You just want the treasure for yourself!"

"That's ridiculous," he scoffed.

But Sully was having none of it, "This was your plan from the start, wasn't it? Keep me around just in case, and once you worked out where the treasure is, cut me out. Typical from a filthy street rat."

Nate's eyes narrowed, "You be careful now, Sully. You don't want to say anything you can't take back" he said quietly.

"I made you!" Sully's voice was raised to almost a yell. "If not for me, you would be stuck in some third world crap hole eating rubbish out of a bin still searching for Francis Drake's ring!"

Nate went to grab his pack, "I don't know what the hell is wrong with you Sully, but I don't have to listen to this. I'm out. Go look for the treasure, get killed and see if I care!"

He walked past him, bumping shoulders and Sully grabbed him on the arm, "Give me Martinus's confession," he said.

Yanking his arm away, Nate said, "No."

Sully grabbed him again and wrestled him, throwing Nate off-balance and he crashed onto the small coffee table. Nate groaned, his back taking the brunt of the impact on the table, flaring up his injured ribs. He clutched his ribs as he got up, Sully charged and tackled him, slamming him into the couch, the air exploding from his lungs and a new pain lanced his side.

"Where is it Nate?" Sully demanded.

Suddenly Nates head exploded in pain as Sully's fist connected with his cheek. Stars appeared before his eyes and he tried to fight off unconsciousness. "In the backpack" he groaned.

Nate watched though half closed eyes as Sully stood and picked up the pack and pulled out Martinus's confession, then he gathered Clarke and Wendover's letters from the table and pocketed them. He walked out the door, not even sparing Nate a glance as he fell into unconsciousness.