by Alex Archer
“It might have started out like that,” Annja said, “but they didn’t leave it as such.” She shined her light down into the dark water and saw darting forms. “There are fish, so the water’s probably coming from an artesian well, something that will support life. There’s a passage into and out of the mountain. At least underwater.”
Annja crossed the bridge, listening to the hollow click of her boot heels as she went.
Statues decorated the ground in front of the temple on the other side of the moat. There were even stone palm trees. The monks who had built the temple hadn’t been able to import the vegetation that grew outside, but they’d replicated it instead.
“How did so many people lose a place like this?” Klykov asked.
“The legend says that even though the Temple of the Dreaming Rumdul was hidden away, jealous kings searched for it,” Rao said as he walked with them. “The armies came too close to finding it. In order to protect their secret, they chose to die.”
“They killed themselves?”
“You must remember that the men who built this place and lived here were ordained monks who had achieved Nirvana. They did not fear death because for them death only represented a metamorphosis, a transition from one thing to another. They themselves were protected in death, but they could not protect this place. So, as the legend says, they starved themselves.”
On the other side of the bridge, Annja caught a shimmer of something in the water. She redirected her flashlight and shined it down into the depths. She didn’t know how deep the moat was, but the ivory reflection of a skull shone from four or five feet down.
“My god,” Klykov said softly. He added his light to Annja’s and Rao did the same.
Some of the monks joined them and continued the underwater exploration.
Annja removed another glow stick from her backpack, taped a stone to it with duct tape, cracked the stick to life and eased it into the water. The blue light stood out against the darkness as the stick and stone dropped into the depths. As it went down, it illuminated the skeletons that lay piled on top of each other.
The monks commented excitedly as others made the same discovery.
“They drowned themselves?” Klykov asked.
“No,” Annja said quietly, “this is where those who survived the longest brought the bodies of those who died first.”
* * *
AFTER THE DISCOVERY of the dead lying in the moat, the expedition’s mood turned somber. Walking through the presence of death had that tendency. Annja had seen the reaction set in many times, and the more death that was present, the more somber the people became.
Still, she felt the thrill of excitement course through her as she helped open one of the huge gates at the entrance to the temple. The iron hinges squealed in protest, and one of them shattered after centuries of disuse.
She paused at the entrance, taking in the layout. Even though the central dome was ahead of her, there was an inner wall set back thirty feet. One of the young monks strode forward, drawn by the need to see more, faster. Annja recognized the same feelings inside herself, but she was able to rein them in.
The young monk stepped on a section of the flooring a few feet from her and the stone quivered just long enough to warn Annja about what was going to happen.
“Get back!” she yelled even as she hurled herself forward toward the monk.
Klykov, Rao and the others stepped back at once, aware of the shifting floor only a short distance away.
When the stones gave way beneath the monk, he dropped with a cry of surprise.
Annja threw herself flat on the stone floor at the edge of the gaping hole that had opened up and managed to grab the monk’s pack in her left hand. She hoped that the pack harness was on tight and would hold.
The pack proved to be too loose. As the monk fell and she pulled on the pack, he slid out of the straps. Thankfully he was quick enough to grab one of them as he dropped. Annja shimmied to the edge of the hole before she was able to properly brace herself and keep from being pulled in after him. Her shoulder screamed in agony and burned like fire, but she held on stubbornly, refusing to let the monk fall.
Then Rao was beside her, throwing himself on the ground and reaching down after the monk. The man caught Rao’s hand, and together, Annja and Rao pulled him back to solid ground.
After the man was safe, Annja picked up her dropped flashlight and shined it down into the hole. At the bottom twenty feet down, sharpened stakes set in rows awaited the unwary.
The monk thanked Annja fervently.
“Okay,” Annja said as she got to her feet, “we pay attention to that warning. From now on, we go slowly and in single file. Understood?”
Everyone acknowledged her.
“I can take point,” she said with a small smile, “but if any of you would rather lead, let me know.”
There were no takers.
* * *
ANNJA USED A wooden staff she’d found just inside the gates to probe suspicious areas and set off traps. The temple builders had been inventive, and they hadn’t intended for uninformed interlopers to survive. In addition to the pit area at the entrance, they’d found two other places where the floor broke away, and six areas that had an assortment of sharp blades that would have pierced or slashed those who weren’t careful.
Shoving the staff against the third stone in the narrow walkway where she felt certain another trap lay in wait, Annja hopped away sharply as a section of the wall spun around to reveal sharp disk-shaped blades protruding from the stone. If she’d made the mistake of walking there herself, she would have been disemboweled. As it was, displaced air danced over her.
Finally, though, they found the entrance to the inner courtyard. The huge doors showed scenes of a veritable paradise lying in wait, a mountaintop overlooking a peaceful jungle where birds flew in a cloudless sky.
Annja tapped all around the gates, on the floor and on the walls. Nothing seemed amiss. She used the staff to press against the door, then dodged back out of the way as sharpened sticks thrust through the door, narrowly avoiding them.
Gently, she pushed on the door and had to put her weight behind it to get it to open. She shined her flashlight inside and found the main building towered only a few feet away. Given the distance and the darkness, it was hard to see how big the structure was.
She took glow sticks from her backpack and tossed them into the courtyard, watching as the blue pools of light did the trick. The front of the temple was nearly a hundred feet across. Judging from the structure of the dome that capped the building, the temple was a square.
Before the main temple, walkways covered the area between smaller buildings along the inner wall that flanked the courtyard. Small pebble gardens broke up the flat, lifeless landscape that had been created from the natural cavern.
Cautiously, Annja ventured inside the courtyard, testing the ground with the staff as the glow sticks provided a pool of light around her. Her footsteps echoed inside the immediate vicinity, making the temple sound hollow and empty.
The feeling that had overtaken her was unmistakable. The thrill of discovery was a drug that never got old even though she’d been through this so many times before.
The temple and this cavern were a point in history that had been frozen and forgotten except for legend and myth. Now, since it had been found, it was once more part of the world, and all the secrets it contained, all of the history, would be ready for generations to come.
She looked back over her shoulder. “Ready to go inside the temple?”
“I am. If you think it’s safe.”
Annja grinned at the monk. “We’re not going to know that until we get there.” She stepped forward and Rao followed her. Klykov matched the young monk step for step.
* * *
ALTHOUGH THE WINDS from the hovering helicopter buffeted him as he dangled from the rappelling rope, Sequeira didn’t like the heights or the fact that the landing area was so small. Still, he reminded h
imself to focus instead on the prize that lay waiting for him.
Annja Creed and the monks had been inside the mountain for almost an hour. They were far ahead of him, but Sequeira knew that whatever was inside also remained within, and he would soon have it.
Nicolau de Figueiredo and his handpicked team were finishing up checking the climbing ropes left by Annja Creed and her party.
Two men steadied Sequeira as he touched down. He tried not to show how fearful he was of falling and looked at de Figueiredo as the mercenary approached.
De Figueiredo was lean and swarthy, and known for his cruelty, yet he always behaved in a taciturn, professional manner.
Sequeira had approved of him immediately.
He even wore sunglasses and a helmet that was a duplicate of the one Sequeira wore.
“The ropes are all in good shape, Mr. Sequeira. We will be able to use them to get access to the tunnel as soon as we have everyone gathered. I’ll leave a team here to safeguard our back.”
Sequeira nodded, totally preoccupied with getting inside the mountain, imagining what riches lay buried there. He glanced up and saw that Brisa’s helo was descending. His heart hammered inside his chest, but he knew it was eagerness, not fear, that drove him now.
* * *
AFTER PASSING THROUGH two antechambers without encountering any more traps, Annja started to hope that no more deadly devices awaited them. Either they’d found them all or the temple builders had felt that anyone who had made it this far meant no harm.
Or they’ve got one extremely nasty surprise still left for us. Annja told herself not to dwell on that.
She tossed the last of her glow sticks onto the floor of the central chamber. Reflected in the soft light of the room’s interior were pots containing diamonds and gold. Others held silver, coins and gems. Still more contained jewelry and bars of precious metals. Statues constructed of gold and ivory, all of them of the Buddha and the various Hindu gods, stood mixed in.
Rao spoke in his native tongue, as did Klykov, and though Annja didn’t understand the words, she knew she had the gist of it. What lay before them was unbelievable.
“I thought these people took vows of poverty,” Klykov said.
“We do,” Rao said, “but it takes money to build a temple, to feed and clothe monks, and to help those who need assistance. The Temple of the Dreaming Rumdul was highly successful in its day. The monks left this treasure here so that the work they had started could be continued.” He paused. “You have to remember, the monks who lived here gave their lives so this—their legacy—would be protected from the invading Vietnamese.”
“This isn’t all they left.” Annja strode across the chamber to a wall of scrolls. She shined her light over them, not daring to touch them till she was certain they would survive the handling. “These are texts, probably of the temple’s history, the life stories of the monks who live here, and some of them might even be discourses made by the Buddha himself.” Annja smiled at the thought. Her excitement disappeared when she heard gunshots punctuate the near silence that filled the cavern.
Klykov drew his sidearm only a second or two before Annja did the same. Rao, armed now himself with a machine pistol and looking fairly adept with it, ran back through the other chambers to reach the main temple’s entrance.
At the doorway, barely revealed by the flashlights in the hands of the monks that held them, Annja spotted muzzle flashes of fully automatic weapons sparking in the darkness.
A nearby monk jerked sideways and his flashlight shattered, the light extinguishing immediately as bullets ripped through it. The monk went down, then scrabbled on all fours for another position as more bullets tracked him.
“Turn off the flashlights!” Even as she yelled the order, Annja flicked off her own flashlight, followed almost immediately by Rao and Klykov.
Bullets hammered into the temple door frame beside Annja’s head. Stone splinters stung her face as she took cover.
“The shooters have night-vision capability,” Klykov warned. On the other side of the doorway, he rummaged in his chest pack and took out a flare pistol. He loaded the pistol and fired it into the open space above the temple.
The flare streaked upward like a shooting star, then exploded into a bright nimbus of light. The effort showed the mercenaries poring through the outer gate. All of them started stripping the NVGs they were wearing.
Klykov passed Annja the flare gun and a bag of extra flares. “Keep the flares over them. Do not allow them to use their night vision again.”
Annja holstered her pistol, then reloaded the flare gun.
Klykov slid the Dragunov from his shoulder and readied the weapon. As Annja fired the flare gun into the open space again, Klykov fired his massive rifle three times, shifting the sniper weapon slightly each time.
A hundred feet away, three of the mercenaries went down as the large-caliber bullets found their targets.
The second flare joined the first, adding to the brightness. The bodies of four monks lay sprawled on the floor in spreading pools of blood. They had never stood a chance.
Pushing aside her anger and fear, Annja concentrated on fighting back. She hung the pouch of flares from her belt, thrust the reloaded flare gun into her belt as well, and unlimbered the AK-47. She sighted in on one of the mercenaries coming into the courtyard and squeezed the trigger, watching as the bullets caught the man and knocked him down.
Klykov put down two more mercenaries before Rao grabbed him and yanked him back from the doorway, then shouted a warning to Annja. “Rocket launcher!”
Annja had already seen the man with the weapon on his shoulder, had fired two shots at him and might even have hit him, before seeing the contrail spit out behind the launched grenade. She dodged back and hoped the temple walls were thick enough to withstand the coming blast.
Chapter 41
The grenade detonated against the temple wall only a few feet from the door. Annja wasn’t sure if the mercenary had deliberately aimed for that area or if her shots had caused him to miss his actual target.
Deafened by the blast, knocked off her feet by the concussive wave and the flying stone shrapnel that thudded against her, Annja fell and sprawled and rolled till she was able to get to her feet. She knew Sequeira’s mercenaries would be on the move.
Senses reeling, Annja picked up her weapon and returned to the door just as Klykov once more set up and started firing. Two more men went down under his bullets before return fire drove him once more to shelter. Blood wept from two places on his left cheek. Annja didn’t know when those wounds had happened or what had caused them.
She looked around wildly and spotted the stairs on one side of the room. They had ignored them earlier, thinking to explore them later. She darted across the doorway and joined Klykov and Rao. Knowing they couldn’t hear her if she spoke because she couldn’t even hear herself, she tapped them on the shoulders and pointed up the stairs.
They nodded and she took the lead, picking up her flashlight and using it to light the way. Thankfully there were no traps along the stairs.
Gaining the second floor, Annja oriented herself to the layout of the building and dashed to the rooms that overlooked the main entrance. The first two flares were dying down, their lights dimming in the open windows along the wall.
Quickly, Annja drew the flare gun and fired toward the cavern room, which they still hadn’t hit, then reloaded, aimed for a different section and fired again. The bright balls of fire hung in the air and showered the temple battleground.
Annja reloaded the flare gun and watched as a group of the mercenaries streaked toward the temple entrance. Klykov managed to get two of them, but the other five disappeared from Annja’s point of view.
Knowing she couldn’t let the men get behind them, she tapped Klykov on the shoulder again to get his attention. Even though he couldn’t hear her, she spoke to him, hoping he could read her lips.
“Stay here and shoot them.”
Klykov nodded.
“Where are you going?”
“Downstairs.”
The old man shook his head. “That is too dangerous.”
“It’s just as dangerous to let them come up behind us. Stay and keep shooting.”
Reluctantly, Klykov nodded and wheeled back to the window, managing to pick off yet another mercenary almost immediately.
Annja ran for the stairs, joined by Rao. She shook her head at him and pointed back toward Klykov. Rao ignored her and ran faster. They arrived at the stairs at the same time, just as the first of the mercenaries reached the top step.
Unable to get the AK-47 ready in time, Annja let go of the assault rifle and reached into the otherwhere for the sword. She closed her hand around the hilt and began swinging it instantly. The sword slicked through the air and through the mercenary’s neck just as he fired a stream of bullets that blew heat over the side of Annja’s face.
Astonished by the blood pouring from him, the mercenary stood transfixed till Annja put a foot in the center of his chest and kicked him back down the stairs. The mercenary flew backward, taking out two of his comrades and sending them all tumbling down the steps.
The other two flattened to either side of the stairs and brought their weapons up. Rao planted himself and fired his pistol at one of the men, catching him in the face and driving him backward.
Annja drew the sword back quickly as the second man fired and missed her by inches. She threw the sword like a spear and the heavy blade pierced the mercenary’s chest.
Afraid their position would get run over otherwise, Annja sprinted forward as the two men who’d been knocked back by the first dead man started to regroup at the bottom of the steps. She ran to the side of the stairwell, bent to put her hands on the stone railing and pushed off as she went over, spinning in the air as bullets hammered the spot where she’d been.
She arched her body and came down on her feet, willing the sword into her hand. The mercenary closest to her lunged for her with his weapon. Fortunately, she had time to swing the sword and connect with his ribcage, slicing through his body. Leaving the sword embedded, she shoved the dead man back against the other mercenary, pinning both against the wall. The man struggled to reach over his dead partner but Rao shot the man while coming down the stairs.