by David Wood
They made their way along the trail by moonlight, and came to the ancient temple. Professor had seen pictures and models of what the temple might have looked like during the heyday of Delphi; now, all that remained was a foundation of cut stone blocks and five upright columns, only one of which was still mostly intact. As they approached, Ophelia stepped ahead of him, practically racing to the edge of the temple site.
“Watch your step,” he warned. His advice was probably unnecessary. Ophelia had been here so many times, she probably could have negotiated the irregular maze of footings and excavated trenches blindfolded.
She looked spectral in the silvery moonlight, more a wraith than a prophetess. The vision—no, don’t call it that—left him ill at ease, but he kept his anxiety to himself.
Despite his scientific skepticism, he had grudgingly come to believe that both Jade and Paul Dorian had glimpsed some kind of alternate reality, and that Dorian’s dark matter hypothesis was accurate. It furthermore seemed very probable that a solid sphere could act as a dark matter collector, and that one sphere could seed another, drawing in WIMPs like iron filings to magnet; maybe Costa Rica had been some kind of ancient Omphalos farm.
Ophelia roamed back and forth across the ruin, moving more slowly but not, Professor suspected, because she was unsure of her footing. She walked with her arms slightly apart, palms facing down, as if she might somehow feel the energy of the ancient oracle rising up from the below. Professor just watched, hanging back to observe the outcome of the experiment.
After ten minutes, in which Ophelia never stopped moving for more than few seconds, he finally called out to her. “Anything?”
She stopped. “No. Maybe we’re doing something wrong.”
“There are too many variables. Maybe we’re not close enough to the dark matter field. The oracle always received visions in the lower level of the sanctuary. Maybe there’s too much earth in between.” He took a breath, and then told her what he was really thinking. “Or maybe the field has dissipated over the centuries. I spent the afternoon looking for anecdotal evidence of any kind of paranormal activity at Delphi, and came up empty. There are dozens of so-called ‘power spots’ all over the world—Stonehenge; the Pyramids; Sedona, Arizona; even Teotihuacan—where people report all kinds of weird stuff. I couldn’t find so much as a whisper of strange activity at Delphi. Maybe there was a residual dark matter field after the Phoenician raiders stole the original Omphalos…maybe that’s how the oracle was able to prophesy…but it’s gone now.”
Ophelia seemed to deflate. She picked her way across the ruin to join him. “Let’s go,” she said, dejectedly.
Professor thought about reaching out to her, giving her a hug or holding her hand as they made their way back up the trail, but resisted the impulse. Now was definitely not the time to send her mixed signals.
As they started toward the theatre, he spied lights moving down the trail toward them. Immediately wary, he extended a hand to block Ophelia. “I don’t like the look of this.”
“It might be the night watchman.”
Professor watched the lights bobbing as they moved along. “I don’t think so. There’s more than one. Let’s find another way out of here.”
Before he could turn however, one of the security men called out. “It’s okay. They’re friendlies.”
“Friendlies? What does that mean?” He leaned close to Ophelia. “I don’t care what he says. Be ready to move.”
There were four vehicles in the convoy, each one carrying four men; sixteen men in all. Hodges wondered if it would be enough. All of them, with the exception of Gutierrez, had been with Hodges on Isla del Caño, and all were hungry for payback, but there had been even more of them when they had gone after Chapman and his friends on that island. Gutierrez was confident of success and his own ability to lead the men in combat—evidently, he had attended some kind of elite commando school run by former Delta Force guys. In his mind, he was the next best thing to Rambo—but Hodges wasn’t sure exactly how Gutierrez’s plan of action was much different than the one they had used on Isla del Caño, other than the fact that they wouldn’t have any air support. There were other parts of the plan that concerned him as well.
“Isla del Caño was remote,” he had told Gutierrez, “and Costa Rica doesn’t have a military, so we knew we wouldn’t have to worry about local intervention. That’s not going to be the case at Delphi.”
“It’s been taken care of,” was all Gutierrez would say on the subject. “Don’t worry. It’s not your responsibility anymore.”
Hodges’ dislike for Gutierrez was growing; the billionaire was going to get them arrested. Or killed.
The convoy stopped on the roadside near the museum and the men began piling out. Gutierrez gathered them together for a final check of equipment and a review of the objectives. When directed to, Hodges lowered his night vision device over his eye and turned it on. The world was immediately rendered in pale green, with bright blobs from streetlights and the lights of the nearby city at the edge of his vision. He could clearly see the rest of the assault team; with their NV goggles in place, each man looked like some kind of cyborg from a science fiction movie. The effect was even more pronounced when pencil-thin laser beams began crisscrossing the darkness as each man checked the aiming devices attached to their suppressed nine-millimeter machine pistols. Hodges touched the trigger of his own weapon and saw a beam lance out from the end of the barrel.
“Weapons hot. All units move out.” Gutierrez’s voice sounded from Hodges’ earbuds. This guy watches too many movies, Hodges thought.
The shooters spread out and began creeping up the hill, fanning out around the museum building. The latest report they gotten from their contact at the hotel was that Chapman and Ophelia Doerner had headed out for an after-hours visit to the archaeological site. That would make what they were about to do a little easier, even if Ophelia was surrounded by her bodyguards. There was no word on the whereabouts of Jade or Dorion, but as Gutierrez had said, one thing at a time.
He followed Gutierrez up the path behind the museum. They were both walking slowly, careful not to betray their presence with the crunch of a boot on gravel or the rustle of grass. The laser beams and infrared light marked the location of the rest of the team.
Despite Gutierrez’s ersatz expertise, Hodges felt his pessimism begin to lift. In Costa Rica, they had sacrificed the element of surprise, giving Chapman time to mount a defense. This time, they would strike quickly with no warning, and their superior technology would give them the edge over the unsuspecting targets.
As if to echo his rising confidence, a voice sounded in his ear. “I see them. They’re at some kind of old temple ruin with five pillars.”
Hodges searched the hillside to find the indicated spot. From behind a cluster of evergreen trees, a laser beam was pointing into the sky, waving back and forth as a beacon to mark the location.
“I see you,” Gutierrez said over the radio. “Converge on that location. Quietly,” he emphasized. “And wait for my signal.”
“What about Ophelia?” asked Hodges.
Gutierrez turned to him. “She’s a dangerous fanatic,” he snorted. “Her brother will thank me for getting rid of her.”
The lights continued getting closer, resolving into four distinct sources; handheld flashlights illuminating the path down which the approaching party moved. One of the beams came up and briefly flitted across the waiting forms of Professor and Ophelia.
“There you are,” called out a familiar voice.
“Jade?”
The group closed the distance quickly and in the ambient light, Professor quickly picked out Jade and Dorion, as well as the team of bodyguards that had left with them in England.
“Did you start without us?” Jade asked.
“Started and finished,” he replied. “Nothing happened.”
Dorion looked even more disappointed than Ophelia. “Well, I suppose it was too much to hope for.”
; “I think whatever power was here, whatever lingered after the Phoenicians took the Omphalos across the ocean, has long since dissipated.”
“It’s a dead end,” sighed Ophelia.
Jade looked at her, then at Professor. “Hey, cheer up kids. The day wasn’t a complete wash out.” She held up a small transparent orb, about the size of a racquetball, for inspection.
“You got it?” Professor was astounded. “John Dee’s Shew Stone?”
Jade shrugged a little. “Well, that’s what its former owner seemed to think.”
“Former…Jade, did you steal this?”
Jade put on an expression of mock umbrage. “Steal? I retrieved it.” She quickly recounted the outcome of the stopover in London. “And once we’re done with it, I’ll make sure it gets returned to the Science Museum.”
“And did it, you know, show you anything?”
Jade’s jaw slid sideways in irritation. “No. Not really. I didn’t get a chance to look at any of the Dee manuscripts in Roche’s collection. There are probably some others at museums and libraries in London, but it’s probably not a good idea to go back there, at least for a little while.”
“We’ve made real progress here,” Ophelia said, regaining some of her earlier passion. “We can’t stop looking now.”
“Maybe we should just take a step back,” Professor suggested. “Who knows what we’ll see after a good night’s sleep?”
Ophelia ignored him. “What if we tried using the Shew Stone here?” She stuck out a hand. “Let me try?”
Jade shrugged and proffered the orb. Ophelia clutched at it greedily and then started back along the path to the sanctuary. Dorion quickly followed after her.
“Think it’ll work?” Jade asked.
“Not really.”
“So what do we do next? I mean after you and,” she nodded suggestively in the direction the others had gone, “sleep on it?”
“Really, Jade?”
She laughed and took his arm. “Come on. Let’s go watch the show.”
They found Dorion and Ophelia huddled together on the ruins of Apollo’s temple, caressing the Shew Stone.
“Reminds me of the Graeae,” Jade remarked. “Those Greek witches, squabbling over who would get to use their Eye next.”
“We seem to be short one witch. Maybe you should join them.”
Jade made a face at him. After a few minutes, she leaned close and spoke in a sotto voice. “How long are we going to let them go at this?”
“They’ve got to get tired eventually.”
Suddenly one of the bodyguards on the far side of the ruin crumpled to the ground. Professor was instantly alert, poised for action, but before he could make a move, another man was down. He leaped forward into the ruins and grabbed Dorion and Ophelia, dragging them back to where Jade stood, still uncomprehending.
“Up the hill!” He shouted. “Run!”
NINETEEN
Jade knew better than to ask questions. She ran.
The air was suddenly alive with faint zipping noises and the sound of men shouting and dying. A single pistol report sounded; one of Ophelia’s men returning fire, but it was the only shot she heard. The attackers—it had to be Hodges—were using suppressed weapons.
Professor was pounding up the trail beside her, urging Dorion and Ophelia to run faster. “Turn off your lights,” he said. “They’ll use them to track us.”
Jade complied and for the next few seconds, the world was plunged into total darkness. She tried to orient herself on the noise of footfalls and labored breathing. For a little while, that was all she could hear. There was a subtle change in the feeling of the ground underfoot but before she could make sense of this, her shins struck something hard and unyielding.
“Climb the steps,” Professor urged. His voice was urgent but he sounded strangely calm. He wasn’t even out of breath.
We’re in the theatre, Jade realized. She groped forward until she found the obstruction she had barked her shins on, and then hoisted herself onto it. She slid forward until she found the next seating tier and repeated the process. As her night vision gradually improved, she could see the others, just silhouettes in the moonlight. She was out in front; Dorion and Ophelia were lagging, and Professor was urging them on.
“What if we’re running into an ambush?” Jade managed to ask between labored breaths.
“Then we’re dead,” he replied, matter-of-factly. “I think they’re all behind us. If they wanted to ambush us, they would have waited and caught us on the trail.”
Something cracked on the stone nearby and Jade felt chips of stone brush against her face.
“We’re exposed here,” she called out. “Run to the left. We can get back to the trail.”
Professor did not argue. Jade took that as tacit agreement and heeded her own advice, sprinting along the terrace toward the western edge of the scallop-shaped theatre, even as more bullets started striking all around her.
She was starting to recall the layout of the site, where the ruins were situated in relation to the trail she and Dorion had followed from the modern city of Delphi. She knew that the curved shape of the theatre would turn her south, away from her goal and ultimately bring her right to the unseen hunters stalking them. She started counting her steps, and when she reached a hundred, she turned and started climbing again, ascending several more tiers until the sound of bullets striking stone warned her that it was time to change direction again.
She barely stopped herself before running headlong into a wall at the edge of the ruin. She risked a glance back and saw that the others were still alive and moving, and not far behind. She could also see, far below, several dark shapes, like ants, moving along the dais and the lower tiers. One of them stopped and pointed up in her general direction. A moment later she heard the resonant crack of a bullet striking the rock nearby.
Jade scrambled up several more steps until she spied a break in the theatre perimeter. “This way!”
She crawled through the gap then turned to help pull Ophelia and Dorion through. As Professor clambered up, she risked another look back down at the small army pursuing them.
“Keep going,” Professor shouted. “Climb the hill.”
Jade almost balked. The lights of Delphi were visible above the treetops to the west, and that seemed like a better option than running up Mount Parnassus and hoping that the bad guys would give up and go home.
He knows what he’s doing, she told herself. Trust him and don’t be such a control freak.
Easier said than done, especially when every fiber of her body told her to run toward the light.
The one good thing—maybe the only good thing—about running uphill was that it was almost impossible to wander off course. Her quadriceps burned, and while she wasn’t out of breath, she was definitely breathing faster than normal. Dorion and Ophelia were having even more difficulty than she was, barely moving faster than a walking pace. Without the persistent threat behind them, they probably would have already dropped in their tracks.
Jade dropped back to where Professor was trying to cajole them to move faster. “We can’t keep this up,” she managed to say. “We’re not SEALs.”
She thought she heard him mutter a curse under his breath, then in the same even tone of someone who had barely exerted himself, he said, “Those guys trying to kill us know that. They also know that the only chance we’ve got is running back into town. They’ll be waiting for us.”
“If they don’t kill us, the mountain will.” She looked back into the darkness behind them. There was no sign of pursuit, but she knew it would only be a matter of seconds before their foes began emerging from the theatre. “What’s that old saying about the best defense?”
“Jade, I think these guys are using military hardware, maybe night scopes. We’re unarmed. We don’t even have a rock to roll down on them.”
“We have to do something.” She knew how useless that sounded, so she added. “This is Greece, right? Where the underdogs
always win. Like in ‘300’.”
“The Spartans got completely wiped out at Thermopylae.” He glanced at the slope ahead, scanning back and forth. “But maybe you’re right. The Spartans were able to hold off the Persian army as long as they did because they chose their battlefield.” He pointed off to the left. “That way,” he said, loud enough for Dorion and Ophelia to hear, and with an intensity that would have shocked a drill instructor he added, “Move your ass!”
An invisible light show was playing on the slopes Mount Parnassus. Hodges marveled at the dancing laser beams that crisscrossed the mountain side and shot up into the heavens, beams which only he and the others wearing night vision goggles could see. Yet, despite the almost magical spectacle, Hodges felt uneasy. Although the initial phase of the attack had gone off almost perfectly—the bodyguards eliminated in a bloody pre-emptive strike—the primary targets had slipped away. It had been easy enough to track them, but the team had gotten too spread out. Despite Gutierrez’s best efforts to deploy the mercenaries strategically, like pieces on a game board, they had all struck out on their own, driven by bloodlust or machismo or just plain stubbornness. The billionaire, for all his imagined leadership skills, had learned that most basic lesson of warfare: no battle plan survives first contact.
Not that things were going too badly. They had not suffered a single casualty and from what Hodges could tell, Chapman and the others were running scared, heading up the mountain and away from any possible refuge. If Gutierrez did manage to corral his human hunting dogs, organize them into a picket line and march them up the slope, they would eventually run their prey down.
There was a faint hiss as someone broke squelch over the radio net. “I’ve got them. Signaling now.”
Hodges scanned the sky until he saw a laser waving back and forth off to his left. He consulted his mental map of the site. “That’s near the stadium,” he told Gutierrez.