“What else can you use?”
“What have you got in that bag you’re carrying?” she asked, eyeing Ryan’s satchel.
“Well, nothing but a few of the colonel’s old CDs and a Walkman. That’s about—”
Mendenhall tumbled at their feet. “I don’t mean to be a pest here, but we have Coalition forces lining up to take pot shots at us and we don’t have the best defensive position here.”
Just as Will’s words were out of his mouth, the giant stone pedestal cracked and the forward half sank into the earth.
“Give me the Walkman and the headphones,” Sarah shouted.
Ryan was about to hand over the satchel when a round from above caught Sarah in shoulder and spun her around. Mendenhall reacted quickly, reaching out and pulling her back to the cover of the remaining piece of stone.
Above, the Coalition troops had found the range and cut loose with a withering fire. Then, all at once, the wall of the lake bed cracked and the men at the top came tumbling down with a thousand tons of stone. The rocks and debris smashed into the centrifuge and knocked it askew of its mountings, but still the Wave continued to build.
Sarah was clenching her eyes closed with the pain of the bullet wound. She had been hit in the same shoulder the year before, in Brazil, and she couldn’t believe that it had happened again.
“You’ve got to learn to duck, goddammit!” Mendenhall admonished.
“Jason,” Sarah said as she tried to sit up. “Take the headphones and rip the wires out. Hurry!”
Ryan did as he was told.
“You’ve got to somehow connect the wires to the casing of the centrifuge and … and turn on … the …”
“What will that do?”
“Anything will break up the Wave, any … interference at all will destroy the tone.”
Ryan reacted quickly, deciding to place his bet on her knowledge. He looked at Mendenhall as he laid Sarah’s head onto the lap of the nearest marine.
“I’ll need cover, Will. My ass is going to be hangin’ in the wind out there.”
Mendenhall inserted a fresh magazine into his MP-5 and nodded. He gestured for the eight remaining marines to take up firing positions to his left and right.
Ryan swallowed and tried to keep his stomach in check as the Wave effect was getting stronger.
“Damn thing is making me feel like a rough night in Singapore,” he said as he blindly reached into the bag, pulled out a CD, and ripped it from its case.
“When you’re ready,” Mendenhall said, looking at Ryan. “Most of the assholes tumbled down when that ledge broke free, but we’ll pick off what we can.”
“Okay,” Ryan said. “Don’t miss, buddy.”
Ryan stood and on wobbly legs broke for the center of the lake bed. Mendenhall and the marines rose as one and placed a withering fire onto the ledge above, the first few rounds catching the first five Coalition men and dropping them.
Ryan had gone only ten feet when another large quake shook the ground. As the floor around him erupted in steam and gas, Ryan vomited and tried to get to his knees, but he fell over onto his back. As he looked up, another rush of cascading stone rolled free of the top, and he had to force himself to roll and keep rolling. As the stones crashed by him, he swallowed and came to his knees. Taking a deep breath, he ran the forty yards to the centrifuge. His head felt like it was going to explode out of his ears as he approached. Blood started trickling down from the eruption of his eardrums as the Wave penetrated his skull. He stumbled forward and fell flat on his face. He shook his head, the pain almost unbearable as he crawled the remaining few feet to the screaming centrifuge. As he rolled over and rested his head on a stanchion, he removed the small Walkman and just stared at it. His mind was fuzzy and he had to think hard on the instructions Sarah had given him. He tried to focus all his concentration on her words as they flooded into his mind:
“Attach the wires to the casing.”
Ryan looked at his right hand and saw the portable CD player and the dangling wires and he had a quick flashback to the Blue Nile and what he had done there to attract the bad guys. Now he remembered, and he sucked up the pain and leaned toward the red-hot centrifuge. Then he realized that he didn’t have anything with which to attach the wires to the titanium casing. He rolled over again as nausea hit him so hard that his stomach cramped and he felt bile rising in his throat.
Medenhall looked over and grimaced as he saw Ryan flat on his back. The ground shook and he heard a large crack from far above his head and he looked up just in time to see a large panel of the Crystal Dome separate from its frame. The eight-foot-thick piece of crystal was followed by a torrent of seawater and sand, mud, and rock, which struck the ruins a thousand feet away. As he looked on, steam shot up as the cold water came in contact with the hot ground of the dead city.
The earth around them shook again and a crack appeared not far from Ryan’s supine position. Steam rose as if shot out of a fire hose and magma bubbled to the surface. The very sick Ryan rolled away quickly but not before his pant leg caught fire. He slapped at it until the flames were snuffed and then he looked at Mendenhall’s position and shook his head again. Now he remembered what Sarah had told him to do. He reached the centrifuge once more and raised the Walkman to the carriage. He pulled his knife from its scabbard, reached down, and plucked up a knife tip full of magma. The blade started to melt as another convulsion shook the ground. Ryan steadied himself and placed the knife blade against the two wires and then against the titanium shield. He pressed as hard as he was able and then released the melting knife and saw that his makeshift weld had held.
Mendenhall watched as Ryan stupidly looked his way and smiled. Will shook his head as the wobbling naval pilot swayed and almost fell over, but he managed to reach out and push the Play button on the small device.
Collins and his men were almost out of ammunition, but it no longer mattered. The sea was falling as if ten Niagara Falls had opened up above them. The remains of the aqueduct rocked and spun with the weight of the water striking it. The men could no longer sustain their precarious hold on the high walls. The water washed them away.
Jack was under water for a hundred feet before he managed to bob above the torrent. He knew that soon they would fly off the broken end and smash into the ruins below.
The fall of seawater increased as more of the Crystal Dome gave way and slammed into the trembling remains of the aqueduct. The pressure was so great that it spun the waterway on its columns of stone. It rotated to the left and fell.
Everett and his SEALs were no closer to the Wave lines than they had been when he had started shooting. He jumped as men came screaming from their rear as he fed his last belt of ammunition into the M-60. He turned and saw that it was the fifteen marines of the mortar crew.
“Glad you boys could make it,” he said.
“We’re out of rounds, sir; thought you could use a hand.”
Everett heard a tremendous stone-on-stone crack. He looked up in time to see the aqueduct turn to the left and collapse. Water was streaming from its broken end as it fell toward the centermost pyramid. He cursed, knowing that Jack had had it.
Collins and his fire team slid down the moss-covered stone as the aqueduct impacted with the largest of the three pyramids. The water that was carrying Jack and his men ran so fast that it spilled them down slippery sides As luck would have it, the aqueduct had collapsed and tilted just enough to slam against the pyramid, saving the team from a fall that would have crushed them all to death.
Collins found himself on a waterslide from hell as he careened down the stone pyramid. Water hit the bottom and splashed up so high that it covered Jack again as he hit the growing lake of water below. The Coalition men who had used the pyramids for cover were drowned and crushed.
Jack tried to fight his way to the surface as he was hit with the waterfall from high above. Giant stone blocks hit and narrowly missed him as he finally broke the surface of the building sea that covered the ruins.
&n
bsp; Everett fired a few rounds and then ducked as return fire drove him backward. His team was down to twelve men. Ten were dead and the others had been wounded either by enemy fire or falling debris. The water was rising at an alarming rate, covering their legs.
Suddenly, Everett felt his head lighten, and he grabbed for the rock wall to steady himself. The feeling of lightness filled his head and he looked around him. The SEALs were as confused as he was. The sickness they had been feeling because of the Wave effect was now gone. The headache that Carl thought was robbing him of any sense he had to take control of the battle before him was also dwindling, and what had taken its place was something he couldn’t begin to believe.
“What the hell?” he said.
“ ‘Sweet home Alabama,’ ” one of the SEALs said.
Suddenly, overpowering the sound of music in their heads was a scream from above, and Everett looked up. Coming down the lava hill in a headlong charge were fifteen marines.
“This has got to be the strangest day of my life,” Carl said as he yelled for the SEALs to follow him. “Let’s go blow something the fuck up!”
The SEALs charged in tandem with the marine assault.
Suddenly, from behind, the marine lieutenant and fifty other marines saw what was happening and followed suit. At once, the Coalition forces arrayed against them were caught off guard and a professional fighting force was coming at them screaming for blood, and the defenders panicked and started to break apart.
To the sounds of Lynyard Skynyrd’s “Sweet Home Alabama” thumping in their ears, the U.S. Marine Corps, led by a navy captain from a department of the government no one had ever heard about, the Atlantis expeditionary force made their fanatical charge.
NEW YORK CITY
A million and a half people had fled to Central Park in the hope of dodging tons of falling glass and masonry. The ground was shaking so violently that most could not stand and were sitting and looking at the panicked people around them. The ground had split open in several areas and steam was rising from the wounded earth. In the distance, the buildings were caught in a warbling wave of displacement that made them appear to snake back and forth.
Without warning, the shaking stopped and the world became silent. People shook their heads in disbelief as the strains of the rock-and-roll song from the 1970s filled their ears. Those who were closest to the splits in the Central Park grass could have sworn that it was coming from the ground.
MEDITERRANEAN SEA USS CHEYENNE (SSN 773)
The USS Cheyenne broke the surface of the reeling Mediterranean at the same time as the Russian Akula-class Gephard did. The waves washed over the two vessels and rocked them left to right. The captain didn’t believe they would ever be able to see, much less rescue, any survivors. But he had his orders.
21
ATLANTIS
Sarah lay on her back as Will Mendenhall and two of the marines tended to her wound. Will halfheartedly smiled as he pressed a bandage down hard onto her shoulder. The wound was far worse than he had first thought and he was kicking himself for having left her unattended for so long.
“Owwww,” Sarah cried when Mendenhall placed most of his weight on her small body.
“Sorry, I—”
“Listen,” Sarah said, almost in a dreamlike state. “Ryan did it … he did it, Will.”
Mendenhall hadn’t been paying attention because he had been dodging bullets and tending to her, but now he noticed that he did feel better physically. Gone were the nausea and headache. In their places was something he tried to ignore because he could swear it was coming from his dental fillings.
“Ah … I love this song,” Sarah said as her eyelids fluttered.
Suddenly, Ryan thumped over the broken pedestal and landed against one of the marines after dodging machine-gun fire as he ran back to cover.
“God damn! I guess those assholes don’t appreciate good music,” he said, smiling, and then he saw Sarah and her condition.
“Dammit, I didn’t think it was that bad,” he said as he took in the serious way Will was treating her.
“Listen, I know I’m not … doing too … good, and before Will caves in my chest … something is wrong—”
“Yeah, well, tell us about it later. I need you to—”
“Shut up! Remember, I outrank you by fourteen months,” Sarah said as she tried to sit up. “Now listen … the ground is still shaking here.… The Wave must have destabilized the island’s foundation.… or whatever Atlantis … landed on when it … sank.…”
Sarah closed her eyes as if she had fallen asleep.
“Oh, shit!” Will cried as he felt for her pulse. He finally found one on her neck but it was slow and weak. “Damn, she’s losing too much blood. We need that marine medic over here,” he said, trying to look around. Then he saw tracers fly over their position and he ducked back.
“I’ll go. Stay put and keep her alive, buddy. I’ll be back as soon as I find the medic.”
Before Mendenhall could say anything, Ryan was gone. He heard the shift of Coalition fire as it found a new target.
He looked down at Sarah and saw her shallow breathing and the soaked-through pressure bandage covering her wound.
“Dammit, hang in there, girl!”
The surprise charge, coupled with the fact that before the attackers reached the floor of the city they felt a 100 percent better, caught the remaining Coalition forces off guard. They attempted to hold off the crazy charge, but one by one, and then in a flood, they ran for the Empirium Chamber, where they had seen Tomlinson and the few remaining board members take shelter. Buildings toppled around them and other debris took its toll, and by the time they arrived at the great bronze doors, there were only about five of the five hundred Coalition defenders remaining.
Everett waved the SEALs forward, where they finally had a clear a path to the power lines. The three two-foot-thick cables were clamped side by side and looked like small tree trunks. He stood guard over three SEALs as they laid the charges. As he did so, he saw a familiar face emerge from the gas and steam, followed by four marines. He watched as Jack steadied himself against the increasing movement of the city.
“How in the hell did you survive that little ride, Colonel?”
Collins had to bend at the waist and catch his breath. “I was just in hurry to get down here and kill Ryan for steeling my Lynyard Skynyrd CD.”
“I have a feeling that Sarah may have had something to do with that. Now let’s hope that severing these power lines will get this place to stop shaking.”
As the words were said, another loud crack was heard from high above as more of the Crystal Dome gave way, allowing more Niagara-size waterfalls to strike the western edge of the city.
“I don’t think we have too much longer at this wonderful resort spot,” Jack said as he straightened up. That was when he saw Ryan stumbling toward them.
“Colonel,” he started to say.
“Good job over there. What made you—”
“Jack, it’s Sarah; she took one in the shoulder. It’s bad.”
Collins kept his face neutral, but inside, his blood chilled.
Carl reacted first. “Medic!”
“Will’s with her, but she’s lost a lot of blood,” Ryan said, out of breath.
“Go on, Jack, we’ve got this covered,” Everett said as he placed his hand on Collins’s shoulder and pushed a little.
“No. I saw some of the Coalition run into that Empirium Chamber—I want them.”
“Jack—”
Collins turned and left the area at a run.
Everett knew that Jack didn’t want to be there if Sarah died. After all the men under his command who had been lost through all the conflicts of his career, this was one casuality he knew would break him for good. Ryan grabbed the medic when he arrived and looked at Everett, who just closed his eyes and nodded for him to go. Then he turned and saw the figure of Jack Collins disappearing into the rising smoke and steam.
“Fire in the
hole!”
Everett was grabbed by the SEAL lieutenant and pushed behind a large piece of broken roadway just as the detonator ignited twenty pounds of C-4. When the smoke and rubble cleared away, they saw that the three power cables were shredded and dead.
But, as Everett watched, more water started cascading from the high dome and the ground movement was increasing in its intensity.
“We’ve had it,” he said to himself. “Major, Lieutenant, round up our men and meet at the edge of the dry lake bed—”
At that moment, a three-hundred-foot section of framework holding the triangular crystal panels in place gave way to the moving and crushing seabed above it, and the Mediterranean started pouring in as the floodgates were now truly opened.
Atlantis lurched and shook as the tectonic plate could not withstand any more, even though the Black Sea Wave had been halted. The domino theory of the plates was close to becoming a fact that was about to destroy a city that it had failed to crush fifteen thousand years before.
The final death throes of Atlantis had begun.
Tomlinson would not argue with Dame Lilith and Caretaker. He knew that the only way out was the way in which the American assault force had come in to strike them unseen.
“They came through here someplace, they had to,” he said as he examined the flooring.
“Enough,” Caretaker said.
Tomlinson heard the finality in the old man’s tone and looked up. He smiled when he saw the small .32-caliber pistol pointed at him as part of the marble ceiling fell from high up. It joined the debris of the ancient quake, and Tomlinson saw that Caretaker couldn’t have cared less about the danger of the shaking earth.
“You have cost the Coalition everything. We shall never recover from this, no matter how much of the world’s assets we have arranged to hide. We will not attempt to survive this debacle. You will remain here with the rest of the Juliai Coalition.”
Ancients: An Event Group Thriller Page 43