Stranded (A Samantha Starr Thriller, Book 4)

by S. L. Menear

  “What should we do?” Barbi asked, glancing from me to Lance.

  “Sit tight.” I pulled extra magazines out of the duffel and handed some to Lance and Lisa. We pulled out our MP7s and checked that they were ready to fire.

  The helicopter landed about thirty yards from us. With the engines at idle RPM, the rotors made the ground vibrate. A spotlight remained fixed on us.

  “Our exit flaps are in view of the helicopter,” Lance shouted above the whine of the helicopter’s engines. “They’ll see us if we try to sneak away.”

  “Why don’t we send Renaldo out?” Carlene asked. “They can take him and leave us alone.”

  “It’s worth a try.” I poked Renaldo. “You’re responsible for this. Get your butt out there and convince them to leave the rest of us unharmed.”

  He turned pale and trembled. “Please, don’t make me go.”

  “You brought this on yourself. Be brave for once and do the right thing.” I prodded him with my MP7 barrel. “Get out!”

  Tiesha and Lance helped me shove him through the tent flap.

  “Don’t be a coward!” I shouted, giving him one last push.

  During the struggle, my hand accidentally brushed one of the crystals embedded in the ancient stone circle.

  It instantly lit up, beaming brilliant light out in all directions. In seconds, all the crystals blazed with blinding beams.

  Disoriented by the sudden illumination, Renaldo stumbled forward and stood with his hands on his head. I ducked back inside the shelter.

  The helicopter’s engines increased in RPM, and the ground shook harder. Our raft rocked in the swirling air from the rotor blades.

  The crystals’ combined light blazed almost as brightly as the sun, probably blinding the pilot. The chopper must’ve tilted sideways because the rotors impacted the ground, breaking into sharp blades. Screeching metal preceded an explosion that spun our raft around and showered it with metal fragments. At least the spinning motion helped repel some of the shrapnel.

  The blast must’ve flung one of the broken rotor blades into Renaldo’s neck, decapitating him. At least, that’s what I surmised when his bloody head bounced through an entrance flap into our raft and landed in Tiesha’s lap.

  “Arggh!” she shrieked and jumped up, sending Renaldo’s head rolling onto Barbi’s feet.

  Not one to scare easily, Barbi snatched up the head and tossed it outside like it was a huge hand grenade. “Good riddance!” She wiped her bloody hands on her navy uniform slacks.

  Everyone else sat frozen, shocked by the gore.

  I coughed as puffs of acrid smoke from the helicopter fire invaded our shelter.

  Lance cleared his throat. “You ladies okay?”

  We nodded.

  Then something even more unexpected happened.

  The stone floor beneath our shelter suddenly slanted downward at a sharp angle, and the opening in the ground swallowed us. Everyone and everything inside the raft became pinned against the lower sidewall.

  “Hold onto the handrails!” I yelled as we plunged into a dark void.

  The stone trapdoor above us closed, blocking the bright light from the crystals and the burning helicopter.

  We slid downward in total darkness, our raft accelerating.

  Cold water splashed through tears in the side flaps as I gripped the bucking raft. The high-pitched screaming from some of the women made it difficult to discern what we were sliding on, but I guessed it might be an underground stream.

  I prayed it wouldn’t spit us out one of the high waterfalls I’d seen shooting out of the mesa before I landed.

  Nineteen

  Mayport Navy Base

  Rowlin stood in the balmy northern Florida air on the port bridge wing as bright floodlights illuminated his crew unloading the gold vaults. A forward crane placed one into a specially-made wooden crate. After the cover was nailed shut, the crane lifted it off the ship and onto a military flatbed truck. The statue of Poseidon, wrapped in blankets, was also crated.

  Seven of the vaults were loaded on the first truck, and the other four were loaded on a second truck with the statue.

  As the trucks drove away into the night, Rowlin smiled and glanced at his XO. “Now they’re someone else’s problem.”

  “Think they really contain all of Atlantis’s scientific knowledge?” Lowes asked.

  “I hope so. We sure went through hell to deliver them here.” Rowlin reached into his pocket when he felt his cell vibrate. He looked at the phone. “It’s my dad.”

  “Max, bad news,” Jeff said, his voice tense. “Sam’s flight went down over a remote part of the Amazon basin.”

  “Dad, I’m so sorry.” Max’s gut twisted into a knot. “Did she call in a Mayday?”

  “No, their radios and transponder had quit transmitting, but I know where they went down because Ross called me.”

  “Are you talking about SAS Captain Ross Sinclair?” Max had never met Ross in person, but they’d had several phone conversations in the recent past.

  “Yeah, Sam’s boyfriend. The military has a GPS tracker in her watch. Our military and the UK’s SAS keep track of it. It stopped moving about an hour before sunset. That’s how Ross knows where she crashed.”

  “Are they sending an SAS team or SEALs to look for her?”

  “Both. It turns out there was a British citizen on board with our American crew, along with an American passenger and one from Brazil.”

  Max sucked in his breath. “Who was her copilot?”

  “You know him. It was Lance Bowie.”

  “He’s one brave sonofabitch.” Max remembered his recent adventures with Lance and the dangerous mission his father and Lance had flown to save millions of people. “If he survived, he’ll save Sam—especially since he’s in love with her.”

  “Yep, he’s smitten for sure,” Jeff said. “I’m counting on him to remember his military survival training and help keep everyone alive. He was a fighter pilot in the Air Force.”

  “Has anyone checked satellite footage along her planned route?”

  “Both the Brits and our military checked—nothing,” Jeff said. “There were a lot of big thunderstorms along her route. The airplane’s ELT showed them far off course at the crash site, which agreed with her GPS watch.”

  “Good thing they have the ELT signal and her GPS tracker.”

  “About that—the ELT stopped transmitting fifteen minutes ago, and her GPS signal vanished a few minutes later.”

  The Mesa

  Our trip down nature’s waterslide took only a few minutes, but every second was terrifying. The steep downward angle lessened right before our raft shot out onto an underground lake. We skipped across the water like a flat stone and bumped up against the opposite shore. The roar of waterfalls emptying into the lake echoed off the rock walls.

  On top of the heap of bodies and supplies, I crawled off to an exit and peeked out. Large, bioluminescent plants grew along the shoreline, emitting eerie pink, blue, and pearl-colored light. Beyond the lakeshore, similar trees and plants dimly illuminated strange buildings carved into the rock. Waterfalls splashed down into stone aqueducts that weaved through what appeared to be an ancient city. The conduits emptied water into the lake.

  The glow from the various colored plants gave the shadowy city an otherworldly appearance. I slipped outside and pulled the raft up on shore a foot or so. It was too heavy to pull it any farther.

  I couldn’t hear anything over the water noise, but a primal warning bell rang in my head. I looked around. Nothing moved.

  “Okay, everyone out so we can check for injuries.” I held the flap open.

  “Whoa, where the heck are we?” Tiesha asked as she climbed out.

  Barbi stepped out and stroked long leaves on a pale-blue bush. “It looks like we went through a wormhole into another dimension.” When she wiped her hands on her pants, glowing blue smudges covered her thighs.

  “Better not touch the weird plants in case they’re poiso
nous.” I offered my hand and helped Carlene out of the raft.

  Wide-eyed, she glanced around. “This don’t look like our planet. Maybe Barbi’s right about a wormhole.”

  Lisa and Lance climbed out last.

  Lisa held her hand close to the nearest blue plant. “This feels warmer than the surrounding air. Interesting. Brazil is known for having unusual plants and wildlife, but I’ve never heard of any that were bioluminescent.”

  Once everyone was on shore, we pulled our raft onto the beach and checked each other for injuries. Luckily, there were just a few small cuts from the metal fragments that had pierced our raft roof.

  Lance pointed at the lake. “It’s filled with luminous fish! Look at the bright streaks they leave as they swim.”

  “We’re lucky there are plenty of glowing plants and fish.” Lisa squinted at the massive underground cavern. “Otherwise, it’d be pitch black down here.”

  “All the water noise makes it difficult to hear if anyone’s sneaking up on us.” Lance scanned the dark city. “But this place looks deserted.”

  I faced my crew and passengers. “The good news is we’re safe from the cartel. The bad news is we don’t know how big this place is or if there’s an exit to the jungle.”

  “The cartel destroyed our jet’s ELT,” Lance said, “and the military won’t be able to receive Sam’s GPS signal while we’re underground.”

  Tiesha bit her lip. “So then, how will they find us?”

  “Don’t worry.” I smiled reassuringly. “My GPS signal vanished when I entered the mountain in Petra, but Ross figured out where I went and followed me.”

  “We should talk about what happened topside.” Lance faced me. “Did you touch one of the crystals?”

  “Yes, but it was an accident. My hand brushed against one when we shoved Renaldo out of the raft.”

  Lisa stepped closer. “What does that have to do with what happened?”

  “It’s a long story. My body carries a unique frequency of electromagnetic energy that triggers some ancient mechanisms. Turns out I’m descended from a race whose women were worshipped as goddesses by the people of Atlantis.”

  “So, when you touched the crystal, you activated the blinding light and the trapdoor?” Lisa raised a brow.

  “It’s a reasonable assumption based on my past experiences.” I paused. “Unless you have a better theory?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe the strong vibrations from the helicopter triggered the lights and trapdoor. I mean, that mechanism could be a thousand years old. No telling what might set it off after all those years.”

  I glanced at Lance.

  He nodded. “I’ve seen Sam open all sorts of ancient portals. She’s even activated 3-D holographic images from thousands of years ago. If there’s a door out of here, her touch will open it.”

  Lisa stared at me like I’d just arrived from Mars.

  “If the cartel sends another team, they’ll find what’s left of Renaldo and assume the rest of us died in the airliner when it exploded. They won’t come looking for us,” I said.

  “Good. Let’s explore the city.” Barbi flicked on her mini magnesium-light. “We might find a stairway up to the mesa or a door into the jungle.”

  “Alright, but I’d like someone to stay with the raft.” I glanced around the group.

  Carlene raised her hand. “I’ve had enough excitement for one day. I’ll stay and guard the wine.”

  “And you can tidy up the raft supplies while you’re at it. Arrange everything in the center again, so we can sleep along the perimeter.” I checked my watch. “It’s almost morning. We’ll be back soon.”

  Lance, Lisa, and I slung H&K MP7s over our shoulders and carried flashlights. Barbi and Tiesha were armed with Glocks and mag-lights.

  “Let’s turn off our lights to conserve the batteries.” I stuck my flashlight in my jacket pocket.

  Sounds of rushing water echoing off the hard walls and cavernous ceiling drowned out our footsteps as we strode down the smooth-hewn path into the dark city. Dwellings were carved into the rock on several levels, creating a terraced community. Large crystals were embedded in the stone at regular intervals.

  I elbowed Lance. “Maybe if I touch a crystal, the city will light up.”

  “Or maybe it’ll explode. Better not chance it.”

  The stone underworld was cloaked in darkness with just the dim lights of bioluminescent plants to light our way. I couldn’t see anyone lurking nearby, but I had the uneasy feeling we were being watched—probably my imagination playing tricks on me. I glanced up and spotted an enormous snake carved into the rock. Its huge head arched above us with its gaping mouth looking like it intended to swallow us.

  Welcome to Hell.

  We had traveled the length of a football field when I tripped on something. Recognition triggered a primal fear suffered by every woman since the Garden of Eden. My heartrate soared as I sucked in my breath and used every ounce of self-control to stop myself from screaming and running away. I had to remain calm.

  My crew and passengers are depending on me. God help us!

  A snakeskin over forty feet long had been shed on the city’s main walkway. I’m no fan of snakes—especially big ones. I don’t care if they have an important role in the ecology of our planet. If they want to live, they’d better stay the hell away from me. Spiders too.

  Tiesha took one look at the massive snakeskin, spun around, and face-planted into Lance’s chest. She pulled back. “We’ve got to get outta here!”

  He wrapped his arms around her. “Calm down and stay with the group. The snake’s probably long gone by now.”

  “I’m not staying in no city with giant snakes!” Tiesha’s wide eyes radiated panic. “We should get in the raft and sleep out on the lake.” She jerked away from Lance and sprinted back toward the beach.

  Barbi, who was working on a Ph.D. in zoology, called out, “I hate to tell you this, but that skin is from an anaconda, and they can swim!”

  Twenty

  C-17 Globemaster III

  SAS Captain Ross Sinclair—tall, dark-haired, and square-jawed, with deep-blue eyes—stood beside his lieutenant and best friend, Derek Dunbar, who shared similar features, except for his eyes, which were emerald-green. They checked their gear and weapons.

  Ross glanced across the broad interior of the C-17 where Sam’s brother, SEAL Lieutenant Mike Starr, was doing the same thing with his fellow SEAL, Sergeant John Ozman, whom everyone called Oz. Mike was blond, blue-eyed, and six feet of toned muscle, and Oz was medium height and barrel-chested, with brown hair and hazel eyes.

  Ross glanced at his watch and yelled to Mike, “We jump in ten minutes. Ready for the final mission brief?”

  Mike nodded and tapped Oz to follow him. The men were decked out in combat gear with special tactical parachutes strapped to their backs.

  When the three men gathered in front of him, Ross said, “We aren’t expecting any hostiles, but be ready for anything. And make damn sure you land on the mesa. It’s a helluva long climb up. After we land, I’ll contact the pilot, and he’ll make a low pass over us and drop the supplies and equipment. Questions?”

  “Do you have anti-venom kits?” Mike asked. “If not, I brought extras.”

  “You Yanks have everything.” Derek extended his hand. “I’ll take one.”

  Mike pulled two kits from his pack and handed one to Derek and one to Ross. “Don’t be surprised if we run across jaguars and anacondas too.”

  “Huh, sounds like a fun vacation spot.” Oz checked his watch.

  “Five minutes.” Ross tightened his parachute. “Move to the aft door and do a final check.”

  The UK and US had agreed to combine men from the Special Air Service and SEALs for a joint search and rescue mission. They chose two men from each team because time was critical and they weren’t expecting armed interference from anyone. Ross and Derek had worked successfully with Mike in the past on missions involving Sam, so he was an obvious choice from the
SEALs.

  A horn blared and a red light blinked, warning the soldiers the jump was imminent.

  The aft loading door opened and the jump light turned green. Ross yelled, “Jump!” as he ran down the ramp and dove into the colorful dawn sky. Derek, Mike, and Oz followed him.

  Noting wind from the east, Ross dove toward the east side of the mesa. On the way down, he spotted the aircraft wreckage on a ledge shrouded in shadows under a cliff on the west side. He popped his chute and landed in the middle of the long, narrow mesa.

  Derek and Mike landed beside him. Oz was about to touch down when a gust caught his chute and blew him toward the western cliff. He released his harness, dropped, and rolled to a stop inches from the edge. His chute blew over the cliff and floated all the way down to the dense jungle, catching in the trees.

  Ross pulled out his radio and contacted the C-17 pilot. “Four good landings in the LZ. Cleared to drop the pallets. Favor the east side.”

  “Roger, four down safe, prepare to receive pallets, east side,” the C-17 pilot replied.

  Mike and Derek jogged over to where Oz had landed, and Ross joined them a minute later.

  “You good to go?” Ross asked Oz.

  “Hell yeah. I saved myself the walk.” Oz pointed down. “The wreck is below us.”

  Mike already had his binoculars out, scanning the wreckage. “Looks like multiple explosions after the landing.” He hesitated. “No evidence of bodies.”

  Ross squeezed Mike’s shoulder. “Relax. No way she could’ve been in there when it blew. Her DARPA watch was still transmitting several minutes after the ELT stopped.”

  “Think they’re up here somewhere, or did they climb down?” Mike asked.

  “Uh, guys? Check this out.” Oz reached down and picked up two .50-caliber shell casings.

  Mike focused his binoculars on what was left of the tail cone. “Looks like somebody peppered the tail with .50-cal rounds. Probably destroyed the ELT. Who the hell did this?”