The Oracle Code (Thomas Lourds, Book 4)

by Brokaw, Charles

  ***

  “Get ready.” Linko reached into his munitions pouch and pulled out a flash-bang grenade. In the darkness of the cave, the light explosions were going to be horrendous and effective. He wished they had nightvision goggles. That would have given them a much better edge.

  But he would make do.

  He sidled up to the opening into the next cave, pulled the pin, and tossed the grenade inside the cave. He turned to his men. “Close your eyes and do not open them until I say.” Then he closed his own eyes.

  ***

  A metal object bounced off the stone floor in the cave below. Lourds looked for it, but a moment later, he went blind as what seemed to be a miniature sun dawned in the darkness at the bottom of the large cave.

  Pain stabbed into his eyes and he swore. He flailed blindly with his arms as he retreated from the opening to the Oracle’s cave. He tripped over someone and fell, barely able to keep his face from smacking into the stone floor.

  “I am blind!” One of the soldiers sounded nearby, but the deafness caused by the blast made that hard to be certain of.

  “We are all blind.” Despite the situation, Fitrat sounded calm and collected. His voice just penetrated the thick, cottony deafness and ringing that claimed Lourds’s hearing. “Keep your posts by the door. They still have to come up the steps for us. When you hear them, kill them. Just stay out of the opening.”

  A moment later, Lourds was still blinking, trying to get the aftereffects out of his vision. Gunshots suddenly filled the cave with a hellish thunder, and more blasts from Fitrat and his soldiers increased the auditory onslaught.

  “I am hit.”

  Lourds recognized the voice as Marias’s. He pushed himself up and crawled toward the man.

  The professor clutched his leg. Lourds stared hard through the muzzle flashes and made out the bloody patch on his thigh. Remembering what Anna had done back in Afghanistan, Lourds ripped off one of his shirt sleeves, folded it into a compress, then pulled off his belt and used it to put pressure on the wound.

  Vision partially restored, Lourds looked around the Oracle room. Haros cowered by the dais, looking terribly afraid.

  Lourds knew they couldn’t hold that position. All it would take was an anti-personnel grenade lobbed into the Oracle room and they’d all become casualties.

  “Professor Lourds.” Fitrat sat at the opening and reloaded his pistol. “Go back into the passageway at the back. See how far it goes. Find out if we can escape that way and if we can somehow close it off after us.”

  Lourds nodded. He grabbed his flashlight from where he’d clipped it on to the side of his backpack but didn’t turn it on yet. He started toward the opposite side of the Oracle room.

  Once in the other passageway, Lourds switched on the flashlight and followed the straight tunnel a hundred feet. Then he hit a T-intersection. To the right was an opening to a small cave that glowed red when his light touched it. A sweet smell lingered in the air, and he didn’t know what that was.

  To the left was another passageway. He shined his flashlight into it and hurried on as the gunfire continued behind him. Fifty yards or so farther on, the tunnel widened into a large cavern. As Lourds turned around to retrace his steps, another tremble—this one larger than the earlier ones—raced through the earth, knocking dust and rock loose. A massive grinding noise sounded from somewhere below.

  He ran back to the Oracle room, hating the idea of leaving it unprotected.

  “Captain Fitrat!” Lourds’s vision was better now, and he hoped the same was true of everyone. “The tunnel continues into another cave.”

  “Rahimi, give Professor Lourds a hand with Professor Marias.”

  Rahimi joined Lourds at Marias’s side. Together, they got him to his feet and underway. Lourds grabbed Haros by the arm and gave the boy instructions in Greek. They headed down the passageway, leaving Fitrat and his few remaining men holding off the Russians.

  At the T-intersection, Lourds saw that Marias was capable of walking with Rahimi’s help. He gave his flashlight to Haros.

  “Stay with them. Guide them.”

  The boy nodded and joined the corporal and the professor.

  Lourds turned back, every nerve in his body screaming for survival, that he should run. But he couldn’t leave the scrolls behind. He knew that Marias had taken a couple, but Lourds couldn’t stand the idea of leaving them to be destroyed or lost to someone else.

  He ran back to the room, sliding past the three soldiers that raced to join Corporal Rahimi.

  Fitrat stood at the opening with a pistol in each fist, lit up by the flare someone had tossed onto the steps outside the room. He stared incredulously at Lourds. “What are you doing?”

  “Saving as many of these as I can.” Lourds dumped his backpack onto the floor, saved the original scrolls he’d gotten from the tomb in Afghanistan, and scooped a dozen others into his backpack.

  He was still putting more inside when Fitrat grabbed him by the arm and yanked him toward the passageway at the back of the Oracle room. He stumbled and nearly went down but managed to stay on his feet.

  ***

  “Colonel, they’re abandoning the cave.” Gedenidze focused on the cave with his thermal imager. “There must be another tunnel.”

  Linko didn’t bother replying. He reloaded his rifle and ran up the steps as the flash at the top of the stairs sputtered and died.

  A sudden maelstrom of gunfire dawned behind him, and he paused at the opening of the cave to yell at his men to stop shooting before they hit him.

  However, below, the men were firing back the way they had come.

  “Sir, we’re being attacked from the rear.”

  “By who?”

  The gunfire below increased in volume, and the passageway became lit up like a full-scale war. For a moment, Linko thought perhaps the Afghan soldiers had somehow come up on them from behind and caught them by surprise. But he knew that wasn’t probable. If those men had a chance to escape, they would take it.

  He returned his attention to the doorway and charged through, depending on his armor to keep him safe. Inside the room without incident, he spotted two running figures ahead of him, pinned in the high-intensity beam of the light affixed to his assault rifle.

  One of the figures turned and opened fire while still running. The bullets sailed past Linko’s head, then he brought the assault rifle up and fired.

  ***

  Bullets screamed and ricocheted from the tunnel walls as Lourds ran toward the intersection. He was going to turn to the left, but Fitrat suddenly stumbled into him and drove him to the right.

  Turning, frightened, knowing what had happened even though he didn’t want to admit it, Lourds caught Fitrat and helped the captain stay in motion. His pistols fell from his hands, and he went weak in Lourds’s grip, no longer able to help himself.

  “I am sorry.”

  Lourds didn’t know what to say. He felt the man’s blood on his hands and hoped that Fitrat wasn’t dying. He didn’t want this death on his hands too. He kept moving, tugging the captain after him. Whoever was chasing them through the tunnel was still firing, preventing him from crossing into the other tunnel.

  Desperate, Lourds pulled Fitrat into the room that had glowed red earlier. He dragged Fitrat around a small corner and hoped they would be out of sight.

  Out of breath, he dropped to his knees beside the prone captain and dragged in air. The faint, sweet smell was still there. Lourds felt woozy and light-headed. He couldn’t get enough air no matter how he tried. He bent over Fitrat and felt for a pulse.

  He found it.

  He sensed someone at the doorway to the small cave. When he looked up, an old, withered man in a black cloak stood holding a long pole. “There you are, Professor Lourds. You have avoided me for far too long.”

  54

  The Underworld

  Elis

  Peloponnese Peninsula

  Hellenic Republic (Greece)

  February 23, 20
13

  “Charon?” Lourds couldn’t believe the being was standing there before him. He tried to get up, but Charon pushed him back down again. He didn’t think he would have made it anyway. His head felt like it was floating off his shoulders.

  “Stay there. You will not get away this time.”

  Lourds thought of all the ways he had cheated death before, all the narrow escapes he’d had, and he knew that he owed death on several accounts. He had been inordinately lucky. Especially over the past few years.

  Now, though, that was over.

  Charon stepped into the small chamber with him. The old man’s face was wrinkled and wept blood in places. His lips were so thin that his teeth showed through them.

  Only they weren’t teeth. They were fangs.

  “Is your friend still alive?” Charon looked down at Fitrat.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then maybe I should make sure. To be safe.”

  In that moment, Lourds realized that Charon was speaking Russian. “Shouldn’t you be speaking Greek?”

  Charon looked at him oddly. “What are you talking about?”

  For a moment, another picture overlaid the image of Charon. The other image was a familiar face—the face of the man who had shot Boris Glukov. And he wasn’t holding a pole. He was holding a machine pistol.

  “Linko!”

  The voice belonged to a young woman. Even Linko heard it. He turned and looked over his shoulder.

  There in the doorway, Anna Cherkshan stood looking invincible. She pinned Linko with her gaze. “You murdered me. And for that you’re going to pay.” She took a step toward Linko.

  Obviously frightened, Linko swiveled the rifle toward her and brought it up to fire. Without thinking, Lourds launched himself at the man.

  Lourds’s momentum knocked them both out of the small chamber. He drove the Russian back against the wall, bounced off of it with him, and spun swiftly to throw his opponent over his hip. Before Linko fell, though, he slammed the rifle butt into the side of Lourds’s head.

  Knees buckling, Lourds dropped to the stone floor and tried to stay conscious. Only a few feet away, he watched as Linko pushed himself to his feet. Before he reached a standing position, Linko had once more become Charon.

  “Professor Lourds, here.”

  Glancing to the side, Lourds saw Anna standing nearby. At her feet was one of Fitrat’s pistols. Lourds lunged for the pistol, hoping that it wasn’t empty. He pulled it up into his fist, taking a firm but loose grip the way he’d trained at the firing range, pointed it at Charon, pulled the trigger, and shot him in his skeletal face.

  Lourds fired twice more, and the pistol clicked dry.

  The dead body of another man he didn’t recognize lay behind Charon. Another man moved behind them, this one regal and dressed all in black, with a helm that Lourds couldn’t quite identify.

  Heart beating wildly, head spinning, Lourds pointed the pistol at the figure.

  “Thomas, put the gun down. You are among friends.”

  The voice was familiar, and Lourds placed it immediately. “Boris?” He looked around, but his friend wasn’t there.

  Then Hades was bending down, plucking the gun from his hand, and smiling. “Well, Professor Lourds, it appears you’ve survived. And you’ve done a task for me that I had promised to do for someone else.”

  Only Hades suddenly wasn’t Hades. He was Dmitry Dolgov, the spy from the dig site all those month ago.

  “Dmitry?”

  “Yes.”

  “Captain Fitrat needs help.”

  “Then let’s help him.” Dmitry pulled Lourds to his feet, and he stood woozily.

  They went back and checked on the Afghan captain and found him unconscious but still breathing.

  “I have a corpsman with me, Professor Lourds. We will get this man patched up, and we will get all of you out of here.”

  ***

  A short time later, Lourds walked with Dmitry as they made their way back through the passageways and out of the caverns. Fitrat needed emergency care. Dmitry had promised a helicopter outside that would take the captain to the nearest hospital.

  As they walked, Dmitry explained that he was there to find and kill Linko, but that he could never publicly admit that. There were repercussions that were going to take place in Russia, and Lourds should watch the news.

  Lourds had trouble tracking everything Dmitry was saying.

  “Are you ill?”

  “No.” Lourds shook his head and regretted the action. “There was a chamber in the back of the Oracle room. I think it was set up the same way the Oracle at Delphi was. Over some type of underground gas deposit that causes hallucinations.”

  “You have to wonder how they knew to find such a thing.”

  “I do.”

  “Ancient engineering is always a marvel. I love the Discovery channel.”

  ***

  Later, they stood outside the well and watched as the emergency helicopter descended from the night with its lights on and landed in a landing site marked by flares that Dmitry’s men had laid out.

  Fitrat was loaded onto the helicopter, then Marias.

  Dmitry turned to Lourds. “There is still room for you. Perhaps you should get checked out.”

  “No. I’m fine. The fresh air is doing a lot to clear my head.” Lourds turned back to the well. “I want to go back down there and go through the rest of that room. We left a lot of scrolls down there.”

  “Wait a while, my friend. We are not certain all of Linko’s men are dead. There may still be a few rats to flush out of there.”

  Before Lourds could make a reply, a loud rumble came from out of the ground. As he watched, the hill over the passageway crumpled inward.

  “No!” Lourds tried to rush forward, impelled by the need to protect his discovery, but Dmitry snaked a strong arm around him and held him back until the earth settled down once more.

  Lourds stared in disbelief at the mass of rubble where the well had been.

  Standing nearby, Haros looked at him knowingly. “I told you that you weren’t supposed to go in there.”

  55

  Moskva River

  Moscow

  Russian Federation

  February 25, 2013

  General Anton Cherkshan’s boat sat at anchor on the Moskva River. He stood in the stern with a pair of high-powered binoculars. He had been using them for the past hour since the sun had risen. The wind blowing across the water was cold, and chunks of ice still floated with the current. Every now and again, they thudded against the boat’s hull.

  From his position, he could see the street that led down from the Kremlin Grand Palace. He thought of his father, of when, as a boy, he had accompanied his father to work on days when he had operated the tugboats. And he thought of Anna as she had been as a child. He also regretted the fact that he had never gotten to know her as the adult she had become. It was a sadness that was almost unbearable. But he was Russian, so he would learn to bear it.

  However, he would not allow the man who had killed her to live. He had made the promise to Katrina.

  Twenty-three minutes later, he saw President Nevsky leave the building and get into the back of the black ZIL that was his personal car. The vehicle left the compound and rolled down the street.

  Cherkshan had been waiting for this moment since Dmitry had called last night. He had been busy himself. He reached into his pocket and brought out a disposable phone. He had already entered Nevsky’s private phone number, the one he gave to his various mistresses. Cherkshan knew the man would answer.

  “Hello?”

  “President Nevsky?” Cherkshan took a remote control detonator from his pocket and placed his thumb on the button.

  “Yes? General Cherkshan? How did you get this number?”

  “I was the general of your FSB. I made it my business to know things.”

  “Were? Are you going somewhere?”

  “You had my daughter killed.”

 
Nevsky was silent for a moment. “Your daughter died.”

  “By your hand. And now, you will die at mine, as my wife requested. She is of gypsy blood, you know, and she has cursed you. You will burn in Hell.” Cherkshan pressed the button.

  On the street, the president’s ZIL turned into a fireball. The man’s death was too fast, but it was all Cherkshan could give him and keep his wife safe. For his own life, he didn’t care. But he would protect Katrina.

  Cherkshan threw the detonator and phone into the river. Now there were other phone calls to make. Russia had to pull back from the mistakes she had made while blinded by a madman.

  Epilogue

  Aleria Restaurant

  Athens

  Hellenic Republic (Greece)

  February 28, 2013

  “You look beautiful tonight.” Lourds looked across the table at Layla.

  Layla smiled, but she seemed somewhat distracted. She had only gotten into Athens a couple hours ago and met Lourds at his hotel.

  Lourds was staying there for a time until Captain Fitrat got out of the hospital. From what the doctors were saying, he would be ready to travel in a few more days. During the days, he visited Fitrat and worked on papers with Professor Marias regarding the scrolls they had gotten from the well area. Marias insisted on calling it the Underworld.

  Tina Metcalf had let him know the classes were going swimmingly, and Dean Wither was already negotiating her contract for the coming semester. She’d also wanted to know if Lourds had popped the question yet.

  Tonight, Layla was dressed in Western clothing, a simple black dress, a string of pearls, and her hair loose and flowing. She barely had on any makeup, and Lourds felt that she didn’t need it at all.

  They sat at a table for two against the wall in the Aleria Restaurant, one of the trendiest places in the Metaxourgeio neighborhood in Athens. The soft lighting glowed against the polished, hardwood floors. The table linen was cream and matched the walls and ceiling, giving the whole restaurant a subdued but elegant atmosphere.