Code to Extinction

by Christopher Cartwright

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Pidurangala’s Temple

  Elise switched on her flashlight and shined its beam at the hidden stairway.

  “Do you know where they lead?” she asked the monk.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you going to tell me?”

  “No.”

  “All right.” Elise sighed, theatrically, and then commenced her descent.

  The stairs descended in a large, square spiral that continued for what appeared to be hundreds of feet. The monk slowly followed her.

  At the bottom, the stairs turned into a long tunnel that headed due south.

  “We’re going to Sigiriya?” she asked.

  The monk nodded. “I told you the Lion’s Rock was always our home.”

  The tunnel stretched a little over a mile and opened into a labyrinth of ancient catacombs. Recalling the Master Builder’s proclivity toward symmetry and central power structures, Elise continued to take turns that led her to the very center.

  It opened up to a large, rectangular vault.

  At the center of which was a sarcophagus fit for a king, or in this case, a queen.

  Overlooking the ancient queen’s chamber was a beautiful fresco. The painting looked similar to the ones depicted above the Mirror Wall at Sigiriya and possibly more than a thousand years old. Away from all weather, it was in a much better condition, too.

  She studied the painting.

  It depicted a beautiful woman, with a high jaw-line, gentle features, silky black hair and intense purple eyes, that were fixed upon the queen’s tomb. In her arms was a baby. There was something familiar about the baby.

  Elise stared at it for a while. It evoked memories that were so distant that she couldn’t be sure they were even hers. The baby’s eyes were open.

  And they were a deep purple.

  Elise turned to the monk. “Is the sarcophagus…”

  “Empty?” The monk replied. “Yes.”

  She felt her heart race. “Then my mother’s still alive?”

  The monk sighed, deeply. “That, I no longer know.”

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  The Ancient Catacombs of Oymyakon

  Sam glanced out the windows to the left. The helicopter circled the large geothermal power station’s cooling tower and the remains of a rocky outcrop at the center of Boot Lake, where the old Stalin-era prison and death camp rose out of the water. The place appeared deserted and according to Anotoly Yezhov, no one had entered or exited the building for more than twenty years.

  The helicopter continued north, before dipping its nose and finally settling into a hover just above a field of ice. Anotoly’s eyes were wide. In the hours since Sam had met the man, he had come alive, losing decades of age and returning to the strength and vitality of his youth. Revenge, Sam discovered, was a powerful motivator.

  He met the old man’s eye. “Are you certain no one’s going to notice the helicopter?”

  “Not at all. The volcanic vault is a quarter of a mile deep. They don’t know and even if they did, they wouldn’t care. I doubt any of them even realize the old ventilation shafts still reach deep into the ancient catacombs below.”

  Demyan entered the conversation. “What about lake?”

  “You mean the colorful crystals?” Anotoly asked.

  Sam asked, “The lake has colorful crystals?”

  Anotoly nodded. “Yeah. They’re a type of coral found at the bottom of the Maria Trench. They feed of the geothermal energy and then release UV light. Leo Botkin spent a fortune manned submarines to retrieve them from around the world.”

  “Why?” Demyan asked.

  “Plants and animals need UV light.”

  “Can’t they produce it with electricity?” Sam asked.

  “Sure, but it draws enormous amounts. You have to remember the colony was designed to survive long after the world as you and I know it has disappeared. At best, this ice-age will last a century, but it may last millennia. Botkin wanted to set up a fully sustainable environment underground and that included producing natural UV light.”

  The helicopter’s rotor blades came to a complete stop.

  Sam looked at Anotoly. “You sure you want to come with us?”

  “Are you kidding me? I’d rather die than miss it.”

  Sam guessed there was a good chance, the man would die today if he did come, so the severity of that statement wasn’t missed on him. Even so, they needed the old man’s knowledge and he certainly wasn’t going to be dismissing any help he could get.

  “All right. Good to have you with us.”

  “What about a gun?” Anotoly asked.

  They were all carrying Heckler and Koch MP5 submachine guns.

  Sam smiled politely. He was indebted to the old man for his blueprints of the colony and the ancient catacombs, but he would be damned before he gave a loaded submachine gun to a man with more than a bottle of vodka on board. “I think we’re all out of them.”

  “What am I supposed to kill Botkin with?”

  “When we get around to it, I lend you my knife,” Demyan said. “More personal that way, don’t you think?”

  “Right you are, son.”

  Sam opened the helicopter’s sliding door. Using GPS, he located the site of the main ventilation shaft that ran down to the catacombs far below. He cleared away the snow. Below it, ice was thick.

  “The thing’s frozen over!” Sam shouted at Antonoly.

  “Yeah, I thought that might be the case.”

  Tom said, “What good is a ventilation shaft when its frozen shut?”

  Antonoly shook his head. “No good. But it was only needed while we were working. By now Botkin will have his ecosystem balanced so an equal amount of oxygen is produced and carbon-dioxide is removed.”

  “Then how do we get in?” Sam asked.

  “We dig.” Demyan carried out a large steel pole with a sharp point on the end. “We used to do this for hours when we were ice fishing as kids.”

  “That’s great,” Sam said. “We might not have hours. How deep do you think this ice is?”

  Anotoly and Demyan studied the ice, with the experience of a lifetime living with constant ice.

  Demyan spoke first, “Maybe five feet.”

  “Probably closer to ten,” Anotoly replied.

  “How long will it take you to chisel your way through it?” Sam asked.

  Demyan replied without hesitation. “Under twenty-four hours if we work constantly.”

  Sam didn’t even acknowledge the statement. Instead he walked back to the helicopter, removed a heavy backpack and returned to the ice.

  He laid out several rows of dynamite. “New plan. We’re going to blow it up.”

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  The dynamite was imbedded into the ice before being lit. Sam watched as the explosion sent a pile of snow and ice fifty feet into the air. The surrounding ground shook violently.

  “What do you think?” he asked Anotoly.

  The old man shrugged. “They might have heard that.”

  “All right let’s go then.”

  Harnessed to a safety line attached to the helicopter, Sam approached the new opening. The ice, including the steel grid that protected the shaft had all disappeared.

  Anatoly and Demyan checked the strength of the surrounding ice and agreed it would still support the helicopter.

  Demyan made a signal to the pilot and he went through the process of warming up the rotor blades and moving the hundred or so feet to land directly opposite the opening to the ventilation shaft.

  Sam looked inside again. “How deep did you say this thing goes?”

  “A little over fifteen hundred feet. Deep enough that it passes the main volcanic chamber where the colony exists, and enters the ancient catacombs a farther hundred and fifty feet below.”

  Sam looked at the rescue winch built into the side of the helicopter. “You’re sure that thing will take it?”

  “Certain,” Anotoly said without hesitati
on.

  “What are you basing that on?” Sam asked.

  “Just a hunch.”

  Demyan stepped in. “It’s all right. The helicopters have these winches fitted specifically for mine rescues in the deep diamond mines near Yakutsk. I had it checked out. The winch and cable will take two of us at a time.”

  Sam didn’t trust it for a minute, but that didn’t matter. The fact was, it was their last chance at survival, so they needed to take it. “All right.”

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  Sam and Tom were the first to make the descent.

  Harnessed to the same line, the winch began to unwind. The machine was operated on board the helicopter, but the end of the cable had a camera attached, so the operator could see where they were and how close they were to the ground.

  It became dark quickly and Sam switched on his flashlight. Above them, the last of the ambient light from the opening had finally disappeared.

  Tom said, “You feel like this belongs on the set of Silence of the Lambs?”

  Sam grinned. “Yeah, but I’m pretty certain the FBI Agent… what was her name again?”

  “I can’t remember. I just know she was played by Jodie Foster.”

  “All right. Either way, I don’t recall Jodie Foster getting to carry submachine guns and a backpack full of C-4 explosives.”

  Tom cradled his Heckler and Koch MP5. “Right you are.”

  It took nearly ten minutes to reach the bottom, where it placed them inside a large tunnel made of granite. Without their flashlights the tunnel was pitch dark. They switched their lights back and searched the area within the immediate vicinity of the winch cable. Billie and Genevieve were the next two to come down, followed by Anotoly and Demyan. All in total, it took close an hour to shift the six of them and Sam hoped to hell they didn’t need to get out in a hurry.

  Sam opened the digital version of the blueprints based on the charts Demyan had given him. It depicted the lowest level, where the ancient catacombs ran like a labyrinth, constantly turning inward until it reached a large room in the middle. It was in that room, Demyan told him, that he had once seen an Egyptian sarcophagus. He said he would never forget it because it seemed so strange given their location in Siberia.

  It took another hour of winding through the granite maze to reach the center. The bright lights swept from the room into the dark tunnels. Sam quickly switched off his own flashlight and the rest of the team followed suit. The echo of broken voices leaked from inside the room.

  Sam, Tom and Genevieve approached, while Billie, Demyan and Anotoly guarded the exits. Sam entered the room first. There were three men working on breaking the code to the metallic vacuum casing that housed the fourth sacred stone. Two had laptop computers open and appeared to be running a program to crack it, while the third one paced back and forth.

  Sam raked the entire room with his eyes. Confident there were no other occupants and with the knowledge that the only entrance was being guarded by the rest of the group, Sam aimed his Heckler and Koch at the only one who was standing.

  He switched the lever to fully automatic and yelled, “Hands in the air!”

  The two computer guys turned to face him and swore. The one who was standing turned and said, “What the fuck?”

  Sam met the man’s eye. They were the same bluish-gray as the man who’d tried to kill him inside the Great Blue Grotto. “It’s you!”

  “Sam Reilly?” the man studied him, his mind struggling to make sense of what just happened.

  Sam nodded. “Yes, and who might you be?”

  The stranger shook his head. “My name’s not important. Don’t you get it? Nothing’s important now. The darkness has taken its grip over the planet. We’re already entering a new ice age.”

  Sam shrugged. “Suit yourself. Billie, come grab our suitcase, please.”

  Sam, Tom and Genevieve moved closer to their hostages, so they could be sure of the shot if they had to take one.

  Billie moved quickly and retrieved the metallic case. Toward the side of the room, Billie typed in the encrypted code and pressed enter. The case flipped open.

  “The sacred stone’s here,” she said to Sam.

  “Great. Make sure you seal it up again before the damned rock starts to take on mass and we lose our ability to move it.”

  Demyan and Anotoly entered the room.

  “Did you find what you needed?” Demyan asked.

  “We got it,” Sam replied. “We’re good to go.”

  “What about them?” Anotoly asked. “You can’t leave them here. They’ll alert the rest of the colonists.”

  He had a good point, but Sam wasn’t about to go killing three people in cold blood, either. “Maybe we could guard them until the last pair are ready to make their ascent? Once on the winch, you said yourself, no one from the colony could reach us before we’re back on board the helicopter and heading for home.”

  Anotoly swore and his eyes went wild. “Are you crazy?”

  Before Sam could calm him, Anotoly grabbed Billie’s gun. She tried to stop it, but he overpowered her. Before anyone could stop him, Anotoly fired a burst toward the three prisoners. The nine-millimeter rounds ripped through their bodies with ease.

  Only the man Sam had recognized managed to get a shot off. The bullet missed Anotoly, but struck Demyan in his chest.

  Sam, Tom and Genevieve moved quickly to secure the three prisoners. Two were dead, and the one who’d shot Demyan had multiple wounds to his chest that would prove fatal.

  Genevieve aimed her submachine gun toward the only surviving prisoner.

  Sam went to Demyan, who was clutching the side of his chest. A relatively small wound had blood pouring out of it. Sam tried to block it with part of his vest and direct pressure, but he had no misgivings about the outcome. The bullet must have ripped through a large blood vessel. Without already being in surgery, he would bleed to death within minutes.

  Anotoly looked at his son. He grabbed his knife and ran toward the only surviving prisoner. “What have you done!”

  Sam turned and watched Anotoly drive the knife into the prisoner’s gut.

  There was a small moan, as the knife went in. The prisoner was in agony. He sat rigid on the cold granite floor with his back hard upright against the sarcophagus. Tears of pain squeezed from his eyes and rolled down his once malevolent face.

  “Father!” the prisoner said in a voice barely a whisper. “At last I’ve come to visit you in hell.”

  “Ilya?” Anotoly asked. “Is that really you?”

  There was recognition in Ilya’s eyes. “Father?”

  “Ilya! I thought you’d drowned!” Anotoly hugged his son. “You killed your brother! What have I done!”

  “Demyan was alive?” Ilya glanced toward Demyan, whose body was now still on the floor, with his unseeing eyes wide open.

  “This is all my fault!” Anotoly said. “And it is all because of Leo Botkin!”

  The name somehow aroused something inside Ilya. Sam watched him reach into his jacket pocket. Sam moved the barrel of the submachine gun closer as a warning.

  “It’s okay,” Ilya said, removing his cell phone.

  Sam glanced at the ceiling, where a series of wireless communication hubs were mounted on the ceiling.

  Ilya quickly texted a few words and pressed send.

  When Ilya dropped the cell phone, Sam picked it up and read the message out loud, “Botkin. We broken the casing. The stone is gaining weight and we don’t know where it needs to be placed.”

  Anotoly looked at Sam. “Go! Get to the surface and do what you must with the sacred stone.”

  “What about you?”

  “My life will be complete when Leo Botkin dies.”

  Chapter Sixty-Six

  Anotoly dragged both of his now dead sons together and cuddled them as he waited. There he lied still as the dead, waiting for their retribution. It wasn’t long – ten minutes at most – before Leo Botkin walked into the room. He hoped Sam and the rest
of his team were able to reach the winch okay and were already on their way to the surface.

  Botkin glanced at the pile of wrecked and mangled bodies. He approached Ilya, quickly searching for the sacred stone. He stopped at Ilya and swore. “I should have let you drown you useless piece of shit!”

  Anotoly stared at Botkin’s brown eyes and lunged for his throat, digging his thumbs hard into the man’s windpipe. Botkin reacted quickly, pulling his handgun and shooting him in the gut.

  Anotoly heard the shots and felt the pain of three razorblades slicing through the soft tissues of his abdomen. He started to laugh. It was short, and intermingled with a blood-stained cough, but it was deep and profoundly satisfying none the less.

  “What’s so funny, old man?” Botkin asked.

  Anotoly held the grenade hard against Botkin’s chest. “This!”

  Botkin tried to move, but Anotoly gripped him with the ferocity of a man who’d borne a hatred for nearly twenty years and was willing to undergo any amount of pain and suffering just to finally have revenge.

  The grenade exploded.

  Both men were torn to pieces as the grenade’s fragments shredded them. Anotoly hit the ground, his face fixed in a permanent and sardonic grin. Botkin’s face was ripped apart. One of his eyeballs, dislodged from its socket, rolled along the floor, losing its brown contact lens.

  The purple eyeball finally came to rest, looking back upon what remained of its owner’s lifetime worth of preparation.

  Chapter Sixty-Seven

  The fourth sacred stone was placed inside the tomb beneath Sigiriya.

  Over the course of the next two weeks, the magnetic poles returned to their normal position. The thermohaline circulation returned to its normal direction and the darkness dissipated from the clouds that had enshroud the earth. Some of the wealthiest men and women, once leaders of the world’s largest multinational corporations, emerged from their place of hiding. Their fortunes having been decimated by an unusual sell-off of their property, cash and assets only a few weeks earlier, the natural distribution of wealth around the globe had never been so equal.