Will looked at Sarah with wide eyes. “I guess this is—”
He stopped speaking when he saw that Sarah’s was looking beyond him through the driver’s window. All she could do was point with her finger.
Will turned, not knowing what to expect, and his heart rate increased tenfold when he saw the stern countenance of a white face and blank, hollow eyes staring at him at him through the window.
In the backseat, Arturi yelped in terror.
“What in the hell is that?” Mendenhall asked.
“Oh, my God,” Sarah said as she leaned closer to Will and shone a flash-light on the face in the window. “It’s Apollo!”
“What?” Will asked.
“This is important, Will. What in the hell is it doing here, at the very spot the coordinates said the front gate was supposed to be? Over the years the movement of the desert must have swallowed it up, along with everything the Ancients had marking the place!”
“This is Egypt, young lady, not Greece. Why would a statue of Apollo be here?” Arturi said, when his heart had resumed its normal function.
“Listen, jerk, I know Apollo when I see him. The winged helmet, the—”
Suddenly the guide screamed. Sarah turned and saw what he was frantically pointing to. The rear window of the Land Rover was no longer covered in sand. She could make out ancient-looking timbers. Sarah now understood the reason why the vehicle had sunk beneath the sand. The weight of the Land Rover on the ground had broken support timbers lining the top of a cave or excavation. The sand had started filtering through until enough had vanished beneath them to take the vehicle down. They were no longer sinking because they had been stopped by the remaining timbers that now crisscrossed the back window.
As she shone her light on the rocklike timbers, she saw the cracks not only in the window but in the ancient wood itself. The weight of the Land Rover was starting to crack the remaining petrified wood.
“If this is the spot, it must mean that that timber is—”
“Fifteen thousand years old,” Sarah answered Will as the age-hardened wood snapped and the Land Rover, with the great statue of Apollo in escort, started a free fall into the blackened underworld of Egypt.
TWO AND A HALF MILES UNDER THE ISLE OF CRETE
The large tram system built by Coalition engineers saved hours upon hours of travel time into the bowels of Crete, but it still took close to two hours to reach the bottom. Tomlinson and the other Coalition members were tired and their nerves were on edge as they had received word that a naval task force was headed their way.
Tomlinson seemed not to care about the developing situation as he stood at the door, looking out at the amazing sight before him. Large banks of floodlights illuminated the most amazing scene in human knowledge.
“Oh, my God,” Dame Lilith said in wonder as she stood next to Tomlinson and saw what he was looking at.
The Coalition Council watched as workers labored to clear a passage through the crumbled world of Atlantis. Columns the size of which none of them had ever seen before were lying on their sides. Giant statuary of the ancient Greek gods, most without limbs, heads, and bases, were prevalent throughout the city. Buildings lay where they had crumbled and giant mold spores covered most of the marble ruins.
Three great pyramids dominated the distant skyline next to the far side of the great Crystal Dome. A once-great aqueduct system at least four hundred feet high ran through the dome and ended abruptly where it had crumbled not far from the middle and highest pyramid. The magma of the original eruption had sealed the hole that the waterway ran through.
Tomlinson took the first step onto the soil of the world’s most ancient roadway. He felt the thick cobblestones beneath his feet and knew the power of the place. The floodlights could show only swatches of what must have been a grand view. Giant lakes of seawater had formed when the great city went under.
“Now, that makes me quite nervous,” Dame Lilith said, looking up.
Tomlinson followed her gaze to the darkened sky of the great underground ruin. The lights from below barely illuminated the Great Crystal Dome. Buried under two hundred feet of Mediterranean seabed, the water still cascaded through large cracks in the crystal and its protecting covering of rock and sand.
How many billions of tons of seabed must the architecture be supporting? he wondered.
“After close to fifteen thousand years, why hasn’t the water completely flooded the domed area?” Caretaker asked as he studied the geodesic structure.
“Look,” Tomlinson said as he pointed to steam rising from a thousand different areas. “The water is boiling off from the magma activity beneath the city. The pressure inside the dome must be considerable, and it assists the structure in supporting the tremendous forces arrayed against it.”
“That would explain the horrible humidity and pressure my ears are feeling. But just how stable is the city?” Lilith asked.
“Strong enough to support the weight of the world. What amazing ancestors we had!” he said as he stepped farther into the great city.
A smaller dome, which had once been lined with the largest pillars of all, took up the furthermost portion of the city. The building beneath that dome had been crushed during the final cataclysm that had claimed Atlantis. Tomlinson smiled when he saw the structure through the lights.
“Have the excavation start there, but only after the Wave equipment has been installed completely. That is the priority.”
One of the Tomlinson’s engineers approached them after hearing his comments.
“Sir, we have started placing the Wave equipment in the remains of what must have been a huge lake near the center of the city. It seems to be the most stable area. Professor Engvall has started connecting the last of the Wave cables.”
“Excellent. I want everything up and running within three hours.”
“The cables?” Lilith asked.
“The Black Sea connection has been made.” Tomlinson looked at her and then at the others. “Did you doubt that we would accomplish our goal?”
He turned and started walking to where a hundred workers were gathering to break into what the ancient scrolls had described as the Empirium Chamber.
THE SOUTHERN GATE
Sarah felt herself being shaken by Mendenhall, who was calling her name. Their plunge through the darkness had ended with a sudden, bone-crunching impact into the pile of sand that had fallen beneath them from the desert floor. Then the Land Rover had rolled off the pile and hit a hard-packed surface, and that was when Sarah had hit her head.
Sarah rubbed her neck and opened her eyes. She thought she was blind for a moment until she heard Will speaking.
Mendenhall finally managed to find a flashlight and click it on. “The Rover’s battery must have been torn loose from the fall.” He shone the light first on Sarah and then on the two in the back. They were shaken but still alive. “At least we have air. Hot air, but breathable, I think.”
Sarah tried to open her door. She pushed until it opened with a creak. She slowly climbed out and bent at the waist until she felt better. She rubbed her neck and then looked around in the darkness. She turned and felt around in the interior until she, too, found a flashlight. She turned it on and threw the beam around. Her mouth fell open in wonder.
“Jesus,” was all she could say.
The light picked up a smooth surface beyond the massive pile of sand from above. The light bounced back from millions of tiles—small, colored ceramic pieces that described a life long dead, an ancient people seen at work and play. Scenes depicted the building of great monuments that, Sarah was sure, must now lie in ruins somewhere below. She looked around and saw a cobbled road that sloped downward. Then she knew that they had found the door that led under the sea and exited into the bowels of the city described by the plate map.
As the two Egyptians finally stumbled out of the backseat, a tremendous cracking sounded above them. Sarah and Will shone their lights up and saw to their horror that the gi
ant statue of Apollo had lodged against one of the broken beams of petrified wood. Mendenhall ran and tackled the two shocked men as they were brushing themselves off, clearing them from the Land Rover just as ten tons of Apollo crushed the vehicle flat.
“Hey, is anyone alive down there?”
Sarah jumped at the sound of the bullhorn. She shone her light up at the spot that they had fallen through. The sand had drained away from the giant shaft, leaving a gaping hole in the ground above. What looked like a million tons of sand had fallen through with them when the unstable ground let loose. The effect was what Sarah imagined being caught in an hourglass would have been, with the beams stopping the sands from pouring in.
Above them, the Event Group security detail stood in the windstorm, shining their flashlights onto the very strange scene far below.
“Radio Colonel Collins, inform him in code we have found the road to Atlantis!”
“Yeah, and watch out where you step!” Mendenhall added.
Ten V-22 Ospreys, the tilt-rotor aircraft used by the U.S. Marine Corps, set down the last of the one hundred U.S. Marines and U.S. Navy SEALs who had been assigned to Jack. The president of Egypt, believing in the sincerity of the American president, had volunteered the forty vehicles that the Operation Backdoor assault element would use.
In the three hours since they had discovered the ancient gateway, Sarah and Will had been busy. With the help of her team and some very expensive equipment borrowed from the archaeological sites in and around the Valley of the Kings, they had widened the gate and actually improvised a ramp they could use to get into the wide avenue of the tunnel.
As the V-22s lifted off to return to the Nassau and the Iwo Jima for the main part of the operation, Sarah met Jack, Carl, and the major commanding the marines with a crisp but tired salute.
“Lieutenant McIntire, this is Major Gary Easterbrook; he’s in command of the marine element.”
Sarah saluted the major as he examined her work, then he returned her salute as he looked into the wide opening that led away into darkness.
“Any idea how far it goes?” the major asked.
“Well, according to the plate map, about two hundred miles,” Sarah said, looking at Collins.
Carl looked at his watch and grimaced. “That’s going to be cutting it close, Jack. We have only five and half hours until daybreak.”
“Morning Thunder begins at exactly 0630 and we don’t even know if this place leads anywhere any more important than a Starbucks,” Jason Ryan said, adjusting his pack over his black Nomex BDU.
“We won’t find out until we get our asses in the snake hole,” Jack answered. “Major, your men will follow my team and we’ll follow the captain here and his SEALs. They’ll be traveling far faster in their jeeps than us in the two-ton trucks. Captain Everett and his team will be in advance and clear any obstacles they may come across. I need a clear roadway, Captain.”
“Got it. We’ll clear what we can and try not to cave the entire thing in on top of us,” Carl answered as he raised his hand and signaled his team of forty SEALs and four specialists to come over.
“I can’t help but think this is a wild goose chase, Colonel Collins. I mean, why not concentrate our efforts with the rest of the assault on Crete? We may end up missing the whole thing going through this way.”
Jack looked at the young major and then removed his Mylar helmet. “Listen, our forces are getting ready to get their asses kicked all over the known world, and this operation could be the one wild card that the Coalition does not think we have. According to some very smart people, if they start the Wave again, it may not stop at just their target—it could continue until it starts the whole tectonic-plate system moving. So unless you want Gary, Indiana, to wind up where the Arctic is now, we’d best get through, no matter what lays in wait.”
He turned to Carl and stuck out his hand. “Good luck, swabby.”
Carl took the hand and then smiled. “This is probably no worse than some of the bars I’m known to frequent, Jack.” He smiled at Sarah and then at Ryan. “Now don’t you guys stop off at Denny’s or anything, we may need you before too long.”
They watched as Carl led his team over to the five jeeps.
The four officers saluted Collins and started for their vehicles as the first of the SEALs entered the darkened passageway to the oldest city in the planet’s history. Whistles sounded in the dying wind as the main assault element climbed aboard their transports.
Like thousands of years before, western man was once again attacking the civilization of Atlantis. Sarah McIntire looked one last time at Jack and then prayed for a different outcome this time around.
15
AVIANO AIR FORCE BASE ITALY
After a personal phone call from the president of the United States and an hour and a half of arguing, the Italian government finally granted permission for the most important aspect of Operation Morning Thunder to over-fly Italian airspace. The president dropped certain names of people connected with the Juliai Coalition who happened to be members of the Italian parliament—names supplied by Martha and Carmichael. Fearing a repeat of what had happened in Germany and Japan, Italy became very cooperative.
The ten aircraft in question, hidden secretly at Aviano for a full day after having been flown in during the hours of total darkness, ten F-22A Raptors, America’s fifth-generation fighters of the newly activated 525th Fighter Squadron, would play a pivotal role in the opening minutes of the attack. Meanwhile, the big surprise would come from the American air base at Diego Garcia, where two B-2 Spirit stealth bombers would be the first of America’s warplanes to lift off.
As the fighters were made ready in Italy, the pair of B-2s were already rolling down the darkened runway at Diego Garcia.
USS IWO JIMA ONE HUNDRED KILOMETERS OFF THE WESTERN SHORE OF CRETE
Marine Corps General Pete Hamilton was on the flag bridge when the captain of the Iwo handed him a cup of coffee.
“We just received word that the first element of Morning Thunder cleared the runway at 0345 hours,” the captain said.
General Hamilton sipped his coffee and looked out at the calm Mediterranean. He did not respond at first, only nodded. He knew that if their ploy didn’t work, the landing force would not only have to deal with a stiff land defense, they would have to dodge an attack from the air.
“Thank you, Captain.” He placed his coffee on the arm of the large chair. “Signal Nassau, Casper the Friendly Ghost has levitated.”
“Aye, sir. Should we also signal Backdoor that Morning Thunder is off the ground?”
“If Colonel Collins started out on time and they’re where they should be, he and my marines won’t be able to receive you.” He looked at the captain and shook his head. “Backdoor is on its own. No message.”
The captain saw that the general was off in his own world, worrying over the time-worn problems of how to kill your fellow man without losing too many of your own, or of your enemy. The captain knew that very few men in the violent history of the world had ever found out how to do that.
USS CHEYENNE (SSN 773)
LOS ANGELES–CLASS ATTACK SUBMARINE
The third piece of the surprise was the Cheyenne. The Los Angeles–class nuclear attack submarine had entered the Mediterranean through the Strait of Gibraltar three hours before and had run at flank speed until she reached her initial point. The captain of the Cheyenne, Peter Burgess, had received his orders the night before and was baffled as to why his boat was ordered to the relatively quiet Mediterranean when the world was getting ready to tear itself apart on the other side of the planet. Then he read the coded orders and his anger became an uneasy self-rebuke. The Cheyenne was ordered to launch all twelve of her Tomahawk cruise missiles at the island of Crete at exactly 0600. All twelve Tomahawks would be air-burst HE (high explosive) shots.
As he brought the Cheyenne up to periscope depth, he knew that whatever enemy was at those coordinates when the cruise missiles arrived was in fo
r a major hurt.
“XO, open doors on vertical tubes one through twelve and spool up the birds.”
125 MILES INSIDE THE ATLANTIAN ACCESS TUNNEL
The second element of Operation Backdoor was cooling its heels. For the past thirty minutes they had been at a standstill, since Everett had called Jack and told him that they had a major blockage of the passage and would have to blow an ancient magma flow from the tiled roadway.
While they waited, Sarah took pictures of the tunnel and its ornate wonders that depicted Atlantis in mosaic relief throughout the gateway. There were scenes of teachers instructing the young. Some depicted great battles fought with barbaric people; most brutal of all were the scenes showing the barbarity toward the lesser people of the world.
“Looks like these people were a little harsh on their neighbors,” Mendenhall said as he saw the mosaic of slaves as they went about harsh work in the fields and buildings of Atlantis.
“It was a different world for those people. To be as advanced as they were, they had to have existed for at least ten or fifteen thousand years. As for their obvious brutality …” Sarah remembered that Mendenhall always looked at such things this from a base point of view. Either you were good or you were bad. There was never, ever anything in between.
“What do you suppose those are?” Collins asked, coming up from behind.
Sarah saw where he was pointing. She walked over to Collins, bent down, and placed her hand over one of many crystals about two feet in diameter placed into the tiled walls about five feet up from the cobbled floor.
“They look like lights,” Collins ventured.
“Hey, the colonel is brighter than I thought,” Sarah quipped.
Ancients: An Event Group Thriller Page 36