Atlantis a-1

by Robert Doherty

  The grid was direct center of what looked to be a large, depression shaped like a rough rectangle, about seven kilometers wide by twelve long. The dark green marking covering the entire area indicated thick jungle. Of course, a notation on the bottom of the map informed the reader that the data represented was not verified. Dane noted that the area inside the depression held no contour lines and no detail, as if the map makers had simply made a best guess. He remembered Beasley’s comment on the plane about the blank areas on ancient maps. It appeared there were still blanks on modern ones too.

  Dane looked up. “It’s out there,” he pointed to the right front.

  “We go to the plane first,” Freed said.

  Dan shook his head. “No.”

  “Listen, this is my mission-” Freed began.

  “Fine,” Dane said. “You go to the plane and take the Canadians with you. I’m going to that grid coordinate. Flaherty said he’d cover us if we went to the coordinate he gave.”

  “What kind of cover can he give?” Freed demanded.

  “I don’t know,” Dane admitted, “but I’ll take anything. You go to the plane, I don’t think you’ll get any help.”

  “We’re wasting time standing around here jawing,” Freed said. He led the way down the interior stairs, Dane and Beasley following. “Let’s move out,” Freed ordered the Canadians.

  “What happened to that chopper?” McKenzie asked, the other three men standing behind him, fingering their weapons uncertainly.

  “That’s why we couldn’t fly in,” Freed said. “That fog does something strange to electromagnetic devices.”

  “That was no fog that knocked that chopper down,” McKenzie said. “That was no fog that about blasted you guys to little pieces.”

  “Let’s move,” Freed ordered.

  “I don’t-”

  “You move now,” Freed said, “or you can walk home. The only way you’re getting on the helicopter to get back to Thailand is if you stay with me and I’m going in there.”

  “Sounds familiar,” Dane said.

  Freed ignored him. “Move out.”

  Dane didn’t move. “To where?”

  Freed hesitated. “How about we go to the plane, then north to the grid?”

  Dane shook his head. “We don’t want to spend any more time than we have to in there. Ed must have a reason he wants us to go to that grid and he’s already inside. He must know about the plane, too. I trust him and I think we should do what he says. I’m going to the grid.”

  Dane could see Freed look past him to the shattered rampart of the watchtower. “All right. But only if we then go to the plane.”

  Dane saw no need to respond to that. Even with Flaherty ‘covering’ for them, whatever that meant, he wasn’t overly optimistic about making it to the grid coordinate.

  The Canadians spread out and led the way down the ridge into the river valley, Freed, Dane and Beasley following them.

  Dane felt the same feeling of fear and distress rise up inside of him, but he could control it better now after years of entering destroyed buildings and disaster areas. He focused his mind on the immediate task of climbing down the hill.

  * * *

  “You came well supplied,” Ariana remarked as Carpenter lay out a length of blue detonating cord. The two of them were in the center of the console area. Directly below their feet, according the plane’s plans, lay the center fuel tank. They’d left Ingram in the communications area watching over Hudson, waiting to see if they received any more messages from Flaherty in response to their request for help once they left the plane.

  “Always prepared, just like the Boy Scouts,” Carpenter said as she pulled a blasting cap out of the lining of her carry-on bag.

  “Why were you sent to spy on us?” Ariana asked.

  “Because of this area,” Carpenter said. “The CIA has been paying close attention to it for a long time.”

  “Why?”

  “Because-” Carpenter paused and pointed up. “Why do you think? There’s some weird ass stuff happening here and it’s been happening for a long time and we’re trying to figure it out.”

  “Why didn’t you warn me then?”

  Carpenter paused in her work and looked up at the other woman. “Your father was given enough information to know this was a strange and dangerous place. He was told about the other planes that went down and the people lost. I guess he just figured it was worth it to send the survey.” Carpenter picked up the blasting cap. “Hold this.”

  Ariana took the cap. She knew what Carpenter said was true. Her dad had known and he’d sent them anyway. The payoff. Always the payoff.

  Carpenter crimped the metal casing on the end of the blasting cap, attaching it to the detonating cord. Ariana watched the woman’s fingers moving deftly and knew they had done the same thing many times before.

  “What is this place we’re in?” Ariana asked.

  “Got me,” Carpenter sat back and wiped the sweat off her forehead. “I got tagged for this just before this mission. From my briefing, nobody knows. That’s why we’re here. Guinea pigs let loose in the maze. Everyone’s waiting to see what happens to us. I’d say it’s more than just us, though. Your father had to have launched a rescue mission and since they haven’t been knocking on the door yet, I’d say that big snake got them or something else. Same with the Hie-Tech chopper. Same with whatever rescue mission my Agency launches, if they launch one at all. I didn’t get a warm and fuzzy feeling from the guy who briefed me that he really gave a rat’s ass about me. He wanted to know what was in here, Angkor Gate he called it. I don’t think he was too concerned about whatever price had to be paid to get that information.”

  “Geez,” Ariana muttered.

  “Yeah, baby, we’ve both been screwed,” Carpenter said. She held the det cord and cap in her hands. “We’re ready to blast.”

  Ariana turned toward the front of the plane. “Let’s see if we have any news on how we’re supposed to get out of here.”

  When she entered the commo section, Ingram held out a sheet of paper. “We just got this in.”

  Ariana read it.

  G-O-T-O-G-R-I-D-7-8-2-9-4-3 G-O-T-O-G-R-I-D7-8-2-9-4-3

  Ariana pulled a map off the counter and slapped it onto the table. “All right, this is what we’ve got.” She stared at the area that the grid designated, then looked up at Ingram, Hudson and Carpenter. “It’s about five klicks north of here.”

  “I can’t make it,” Hudson said immediately.

  Ariana shrugged. “Fine. We’ll leave you.”

  “You can’t-” Hudson began, but stopped at the glare she gave him.

  “We’ll help you get there, but don’t you dare tell me what I can and can’t do you son-of-a-bitch.”

  “But how do we know there’s something there to get to?” Ingram asked.

  “As this point I don’t think we have much choice,” Ariana said. “Let’s get ready.”

  “Ariana!” Carpenter’s voice echoed from the back of the plane. “You’ve got to see this.”

  Ariana ran to the center console section, avoiding the gold line that had killed Daley. Carpenter was looking into the mainframe of Argus.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Look,” Carpenter said. “Something’s happening.”

  Ariana stared as a piece of Argus’s hardware disappeared inside the golden glow surrounding it.

  “What is going on?” Ariana asked.

  “Twelve hours,” Carpenter said. “I think we might be too late.”

  “Let’s get moving!”

  * * *

  “It was using the MILSTARS satellites,” Jimmy confirmed, studying the latest imagery, “but the points of convergence are not based on that.”

  “But the power was being carried via MILSTARS,” Conners argued. They were in her office now, the walls covered with imagery, reams of computer printouts covering every available surface and the floor. “What’s carrying it now?”

  Jimmy threw down a
computer printout and slumped down into a chair, ignoring the paper underneath him. “I think it outgrew the need to use MILSTARS. Many of these lines run across European and Russian satellites. This thing, whatever it is, is using anything up there it can get a hold of. I think it’s on the verge of not needing the satellites any more. Of being able to sustain itself.”

  “Damn,” Conners muttered. “I guess we’d better update Foreman.”

  * * *

  The chopper flared to a hover above the blasted clearing. The two men in black hooked thick ropes into the roof of the helicopter bay, then threw the free ends into the downblast. Bags slung over their shoulders, they stepped out into the air and rappelled to the ground.

  Sin Fen watched, her mind on other matters. The chopper moved away slightly and she could look down and see the men pull chain saws out of the duffel bags and begin clearing away branches and other debris that would interfere with their landing.

  Sin Fen felt Chelsea stir next to her, but she kept her hands tight on the dog’s collar. She closed her eyes and reached outward. Dane was close to the Angkor Gate. Very close. And soon he would be in.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  After getting off the satellite phone with Conners, Foreman stared at the electronic map at the front of the operations center and watched the various moving symbols that represented the military forces being marshaled by the Pentagon. The Wyoming was closing on the Bermuda Triangle Gate and other aircraft and ships were vectoring on the vortices where activity was strongest. Part of the Seventh Fleet was circling around the southern tip of Vietnam to go on-station in the Gulf of Thailand.

  But there was no plan yet. Everyone was still reeling from the failure of Thunder Dart’s mission to stop the propagation. They’d thrown the most technologically advanced equipment the country owned against this threat and been beaten. The pilot of the Thunder Dart had been recovered but the 2.2 billion dollar aircraft had been swatted like a fly.

  But it wasn’t just the United States. Foreman had been in contact with both his Russian and Japanese counterparts. The Russians had used a hunter-killer satellite to take out one of their own communications satellites that had been taken over by the propagation. The result had been one hunter-killer satellite blown apart by the golden glow. The Japanese Navy had sent their most modern destroyer into their closest Gate, into the heart of the Devil’s Sea, and it had not been heard from again.

  Foreman looked at his commo board. The light indicating a link to Sin Fen was dark. She’d relayed to him Beasley’s interpretation of the carvings in the watchtower that she had sensed from Dane’s mind.

  As he watched, another light flickered on and a tone sounded. Foreman leaned forward and threw a switch.

  “Foreman here.”

  The President wasted no time on greetings. “What next, Mister Foreman? So far we’ve lost Bright Star, Thunder Dart, and one of our MILSTARS satellites.”

  Foreman didn’t say anything.

  “My scientific people confirm the radiation and electromagnetic spread,” the President continued. “I’ve been in contact with the Russian President and he confirms some of what you told me. They are investigating both at Chernobyl and Lake Baikal but they don’t know much more. I’ve also gotten reports from the NSA that the Russians lost one of their satellites trying to deal with this. I need some more options.”

  “My man is getting ready to go into the Angkor Gate,” Foreman said.

  “Goddamnit!” the President exploded. “According to these readouts I’m getting, we’re going to have people dying around these Gates in less than twelve hours.”

  “I have nothing further to tell you than I’ve already told you, sir,” Foreman said. “The minute I learn something from inside Angkor Gate I will immediately contact you.”

  “That’s not good enough.”

  “I’ll get back to you, sir,” Foreman said. He didn’t add that he feared they were too late.

  The phone went dead.

  * * *

  “It’s all set,” Carpenter said. She held up a small green plastic tube. “This is the fuse. We’ll have five minutes.” A length of blue cord ran from the fuse down into the floor panels where Carpenter had wired it to two pounds of C-4 explosive placed against the top bulkhead of the center fuel tank.

  Ariana nodded. “OK.” She had the 9mm pistol in her hand and a small backpack slung over her shoulder. Ingram was holding on to Hudson’s right arm, helping him stand. They were all next to the emergency door over the right wing, or where the right wing had been, Ariana reminded herself.

  “We pop the door,” Ariana instructed, “then go down the emergency slide which will inflate.” She looked at the faces that surrounded her. Carpenter’s was impassive. Ingram looked afraid but determined. Hudson’s was just afraid.

  “Let’s do it.” Ariana grabbed the emergency level and shoved it. With a loud sucking noise the door swung open. There was a loud hiss, then the yellow emergency slide popped out and rapidly inflated.

  Ariana took a quick look. It was daylight but only a feeble gray light penetrated the mist. She could see splintered tree trunks underneath the plane and the beginnings of thick jungle just ten feet from the side of the plane. Beyond twenty feet, she saw nothing.

  “Go!” she yelled at Hudson and Ingram. The two men flopped onto the slide and disappeared out of sight. Ariana turned to Carpenter. “Do it.”

  Carpenter pulled the fuse, checked it and gave a thumbs up. The black woman was by Ariana and down the slide. Ariana took one last look around the interior of the plane, at the bodies covered in sheets and jackets and at that moment she realized her father would have been more mindful of the expensive computers and other equipment she was about to destroy. She stepped onto the slide.

  * * *

  Dane felt the cold water flow around his legs and paused. The mist on the far bank was thicker than he remembered. His eyes could penetrate only a few feet in but it wasn’t his eyes that were warning him. Like the steady beat of a heart, a warning pulsed in his brain, telling him to be aware, to be afraid, but this time, unlike thirty years ago, it also drew him on, into the mist.

  He glanced over his shoulder. Freed, Beasley and the four Canadians were right behind him. Dane waded forward. He reached the far bank and climbed up without a backward glance and was enveloped in the fog.

  * * *

  The helicopter settled gingerly onto the blasted foliage. Sin Fen stepped off as the engines began to power down. She walked to the edge of the clearing and faced the jungle, to the west, but her eyes were closed. Chelsea was next to her, tail wagging, tongue hanging out.

  She reached out for Dane. She felt him, his essence, but it was flickering and she knew it was moving into the Gate. She sensed the water he had just passed through and could pick up images from his mind-he had talked to Flaherty on the radio.

  She concentrated one message to send to him:

  Listen to the voices of the Gods

  Chelsea began barking, nose pointed to the east. Sin Fen turned in that direction. A Huey helicopter came in low and fast, flaring to a landing next to the chopper that they had come in.

  Six men jumped off, weapons at the ready. They were white men, dressed in tiger stripe fatigues, with a hard look about them that spoke of much death and pain. She saw them walk up to Michelet, who pointed in her direction.

  They came toward her, Michelet right behind. She picked up the threat from all of them, but it was hard to separate out individual thoughts.

  “Do not do something foolish,” Sin Fen warned.

  “You’re Foreman’s bitch,” Michelet said. “He set all this up.”

  “He gave you enough information to back out,” Sin Fen said. “You are the one that put your daughter and her crew in harm’s way.”

  Michelet shook his head. “He’s a manipulative liar.”

  Sin Fen laughed. “Ah, that is ironic.”

  She caught movement out of the corner of her eye. One of the tiger stripe men
brought something up in his hand and a small piece of metal flashed toward her. Sin Fen looked down at the small metal dart caught on her vest. She focused at the man holding the stun gun. He staggered back, dropping the gun without triggering it, his hands going to his temples.

  Another one of the men fired his stun gun, the dart hitting her in the back. He was quicker, pulling the trigger as she turned.

  Sin Fen went rigid from the electric current coursing through her, then the world went black and she collapsed. Chelsea whined and ran into the jungle.

  The leader of the men stood over Sin Fen’s body and looked at Michelet questionably. Michelet pointed to the ravine on the northern edge of the camp. “Tie her up and throw her in there. Let the animals finish her.”

  The leader gestured to two of his men. They pulled a piece of nylon rope out and began tying Sin Fen up.

  “Hie-Tech?” Michelet asked the leader of the men.

  “Being taken care of, sir. I coordinated with the Cambod’s to take care of that problem.”

  “How much did that coordination cost me?” Michelet asked.

  “Two hundred thousand.”

  Michelet walked to the center of the LZ, in between the two helicopters and looked to the west. He stood hands on hips. “No one screws with me and gets away with it. No one.”

  The leader of the mercenaries stared at him without comment.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “Move!” Ariana yelled, grabbing Hudson’s arm and pulling him across the tangled vegetation. She glanced over her shoulder at the plane. The tail was lost in the fog but she could see the rotodome and the golden beam shooting from it into the sky.

  Carpenter grabbed Hudson’s other arm. Together they hauled him across a large splintered tree trunk and then they were on the ground. Ariana turned and looked back over the wood. The plane had almost disappeared in the mist, about fifty meters away.

  “Duck,” Carpenter said.

  Ariana tucked her head down behind the cover of the tree trunk. There was the sharp crack of an explosion, followed by a thunderous secondary explosion. Ariana could hear shrapnel fly by overhead and slash into the vegetation. With a loud thump, a twenty foot section of fuselage landed less than forty feet away. Ariana stood and looked. The plane was gone. She checked her map and pointed into the mist shrouded jungle.