Ancients (event group thriller)

by David L. Golemon

  "Damn, we're not catching any breaks here," Ryan said as he stood next to Sarah. "I better let the colonel know the bad news."

  Sarah just nodded as Ryan started making the dreaded call. While he did so, Sarah popped a white flair and tossed it onto the rubble pile just above the lapping water.

  Sarah shook her head, and that was when she saw it. Smoke from the flare was rising, and then about five feet up it was suddenly sucked into the debris. She tilted her head and watched just to make sure, then she reached out and grabbed Ryan's shoulder.

  "Hold one, Colonel," he said as he looked at where Sarah was pointing. "Colonel, let me get back to you."

  As they advanced, Ryan popped another flare and tossed it onto the slide. Sure enough, they both saw the large hole. It looked big enough for both of them to slip through side by side.

  Sarah laid her MP-5 against the rubble and started climbing. Ryan watched for a moment and then followed. She shone her helmet light into the hole and then, unsatisfied, used her large flashlight.

  "It looks likes it goes all the way through. This is too much to ask for. How in the hell was this thing formed?"

  "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth--"

  "You mean 'maw', don't you? Because that's what it looks like, a maw."

  "You have such a way with description, Sarah old girl," Ryan said as he pressed his throat mike and held on to his MP-5 somewhat tighter than before Sarah's comment. "Colonel, we have a way through. Start sending the men down."

  As Collins and the others hit the tunnel floor, Sarah started through the hole in the debris field. She had Ryan stay behind to assist with getting the troops ready for a tight squeeze and a long crawl out. She cursed herself for not having worn her knee pads, because every sharp rock and jagged piece of marble seemed to find a soft spot on her knees.

  She was near the end when she noticed a large niche in the side of the tunnel. As her helmet light hit the spot, she saw bones of fish, humans, and material of some kind, and what looked like paper, or was it papyrus, she couldn't tell. She reached out and looked at the shredded paperlike material, then looked over the bones more closely. They were mostly ancient human remains. However, interspersed with these were fish bones and other animal skeletons. Then her eyes widened when she saw the gnaw marks on them, deep gouges that had to have been made by enormous teeth.

  "Yuck," she said.

  When she turned to make her way past the site, something hard and heavy fell on her from above. She screamed when she saw the incisors, teeth as long as two butcher knives, directly in front of her face. She crawled backward, and the skeletal remains of the giant rat rolled off and lay beside its ancient nest. The giant must have lived in the rubble for years after the destruction, feeding off the dead and then the fish that were trapped in the cave-in, and then it must eventually have starved to death.

  She shone her light ahead and saw that the rat hole dug long ago might have saved their mission. The light picked out the tunnel's end. She keyed her throat mic.

  "Okay, Jason, send the cavalry in."

  OPERATION MORNING THUNDER THE ISLE OF CRETE

  The marines of the advanced recon unit started easing their way to the giant cave opening of the tunnel. Several small-arms shots rang out; they were quickly silenced by marine counterfire. Within ten minutes, the site was secured and word was sent to the Iwo, offshore, that Operation Morning Thunder was starting to make its way down the tunnel.

  As the radio message went out, a marine squad passed a checkpoint that they didn't know was there, and with orders directly from Tomlinson, one of the survivors of the beach defenses pushed a button.

  Standing on the flag bridge of the USS Iwo Jima, General Hamilton flinched at the explosion in the center of the island. As he watched, he slammed his fist into the steel railing, as a nonnuclear mushroom cloud rose from the excavation site. He closed his eyes and cursed. He turned to see the navy bridge staff staring at the scene in shock.

  "Captain, get me the beach commander on the horn if he's still alive and get our Seabees moving, I want that area secured and the excavation opened up. Also get me National Command Authority on the line, tell them that Operation Morning Thunder has not, repeat, has not secured the front door."

  "I hope Colonel Collins is having a better go of it than we are. Operation Backdoor has now become our last chance."

  ATLANTIS

  Tomlinson listened to the survivors of the beach defense and was satisfied that the marines could not get to them before the Wave activated. He nodded and then turned to Professor Engvall.

  "The blue diamond is in place?" he asked.

  "Yes. We have been generating for the past hour on the smallest setting. I just need to know which connections to attach."

  Tomlinson smiled and looked from Engvall to Dame Lilith and Caretaker. "The orders remain the same--China and Russia ... also the eastern United States."

  "Strikes in the United States are not called for at this time. We have weakened the U.S. far too much as it is," Caretaker said, stepping forward.

  "The transmission lines have been laid, the amplifiers are in place, and the Key can reach them with no problem."

  "But--"

  "Enough! Professor, begin your countdown in one hour."

  Dame Lilith, Caretaker, and the others watched as Tomlinson disappeared back into the broken Empirium Chamber, where he had been holed up most of the morning.

  "I'm worried. The plan does not call for American escalation at this time," Lilith said, looking at Caretaker.

  Caretaker watched as Tomlinson retreated with his hands held behind his back, then he answered Lilith.

  "He's under stress, but right now our lives and, I daresay, the very life of the Coalition rides on his shoulders. Hitting the States may not be a bad idea at this time. It may take their determined minds away from us."

  Dame Lilith watched as Caretaker turned and walked slowly away, just looking at the ruins of the capital city of Atlantis as if he were on a stroll in Piccadilly Circus.

  She looked around at the Crystal Dome rising far above her and the ruins that surrounded her.

  "I was just concerned ... you won't tell William I doubted him, will you?" she called after Caretaker.

  Just as she said the words, she felt the hair on her arms stand straight up and suddenly felt slightly nauseated. She knew then that the large generators had started up and the Wave was building into Thor's Hammer like the anger of a caged tiger, and that tiger very much wanted to be let loose.

  17

  SOUTH OF THE DMZ SOUTH KOREA

  The general in charge of the three-pronged attack raised his radio.

  "For the honor of the People, I give the long-awaited order: Commence the artillery barrage of Seoul!"

  From behind the DMZ, five thousand artillery batteries opened fire, sending rounds into the American line of defense.

  SITUATION ROOM THE WHITE HOUSE WASHINGTON, D.C.

  As the president watched the large viewing screen, the numbers and field units of the North Koreans started changing rapidly. Icons symbolizing artillery were flashing red; the ones indicating the three-pronged spearhead started moving also, along with thirty-five divisions north of the border.

  "They're on the move," said General Caulfield.

  Niles Compton watched the president, who sat with his eyes closed.

  "We have major air assets lifting off from all the eastern Chinese air bases. It looks like over five hundred aircraft of every variety. Should I order our fighters in from Japan and notify our carrier-based planes, Mr. President? They're loitering a hundred miles off, over the Sea of Japan,"

  The president stood and put his large hands into his pockets. He glanced at Niles for a moment and then looked at the monitor. The red icons of the North were moving very rapidly.

  "Take note: the North Koreans have crossed the thirty-eighth parallel in force and are now, and have been for hours, in noncompliance of the treaty of July twenty-seventh, 1950. The Second
ID and the air forces of the United States are hereby ordered to defend South Korea from the Democratic People's Republic of North Korea. If the People's Republic of China crosses into South Korea, American aircraft are to attack them."

  CRUSADER FLIGHT, TWENTY-SEVENTH FIGHTER SQUADRON OUT OF KADENA AIR FORCE BASE, OKINAWA, JAPAN

  The twelve F-22A Raptors had been based in Japan for the past eleven months and were now grouped with thirty-five F-15 Strike Eagles, thirty-five Eagle air-superiority fighters, and twenty-five F-16 Fighting Falcons of the Japanese defense force. As the fighters cruised at twenty thousand feet just east of Korean territorial waters, they received the order that shook every man in the flight. The lieutenant colonel flying as the lead asked for confirmation twice to make sure he had heard right. "Attack all North Korean forces south of the thirty-eighth parallel. Attack any air assault by any foreign government. Commence unrestricted warfare against all ground units south of the border."

  As the colonel looked at his scope, he counted fifty-plus Chinese MIG 31s and an equal number of North Korean aircraft ready to cross into South Korea.

  "This is going to be messy," he said to himself.

  The spearhead and lead armored element of the People's Army opened fire from a ridge overlooking Qua Shan village. There were no reports of enemy emplacements, but the overzealous general left in charge was taking no chances. He thought that he might as well level the village while he had the chance, with their air power soon to arrive.

  "We have incoming aircraft from the west, General; they are squawking People's Republic Air Force."

  The general looked down from his armored personnel carrier and nodded at his courier.

  "Good. Have ground control direct them to the first American defense line. Inform them I will lay green smoke."

  "Yes, sir."

  It happened so suddenly that the American colonel thought that his air-search radar was not operating properly. The entire Chinese force turned away and started flying northward, away from South Korea. He watched to make sure it was not a trick. When he saw the MIGs continue northward, he smiled.

  He was further shocked when his radio came to life on the frequency that was supposed to be secure: "American flight commander to the south, the People's Republic of China apologizes for the closeness our training flight came to South Korean airspace. We are returning to base at this time."

  "All elements of Crusader are to attack. I repeat, attack!"

  The first thirty-five F-15 Strike Eagles banked hard and dived for the earth.

  The North Korean general turned in his turret and smiled. Now the Americans would feel the full force of the Great Leader's might. He looked through his glasses and froze. American F-15s were screaming toward his positions unopposed.

  "General, the Chinese have left the area and our own air support has been ordered to stand down. The Americans are attacking up and down the line. U.S. carrier aircraft are hitting our artillery positions on our side of the border. Pyongyang is ordering a general retreat!"

  To augment the disastrous report, five T-80 tanks exploded only a thousand yards in front of his command vehicle. As he ducked, he saw the American fighters pull up after their attack. There were more explosions as more tanks met the same fate. The Americans had acted swiftly and caught them off guard.

  "This is madness," he screamed as he saw antipersonnel cluster munitions fly into the back of his lines where his infantry had been mobilizing for the assault.

  As the general watched, the spearhead that had been rolling through unblemished just five minutes before lay in a smoking ruin all around him.

  SITUATION ROOM THE WHITE HOUSE WASHINGTON, D.C.

  Things were moving too fast for Niles to keep up. One by one, the icons marking the forward advance of the North Korean assault slowly started to disappear from the map.

  "Mr. President, it's been confirmed: the Chinese have exited north of the thirty-eighth parallel. They are returning to Chinese airspace!"

  "I guess they decided we weren't lying after all!"

  Compton heard the relief in the president's voice, and he himself felt like jumping up and whooping, as many of the generals and admirals were doing.

  "American and Japanese air strikes are heavily damaging all forward units in the south. The Second ID is moving unopposed into the DMZ. It has been confirmed that Kim Jong Il ordered his troops north of the thirty-eighth parallel."

  "Sir, we have a message from the Russian president; he's asking if they could render assistance to our marine force on Crete," the national security Adviser read from a note. "Also, the Chinese ambassador just issued a statement saying that the People's Republic has no intention of aiding this lawless act of aggression by Kim Jong Il and the People's Army, and is insisting that his army stand down in this time of world crisis."

  The president sat hard into his chair and looked at Niles. "It seems your words meant something to them, Niles."

  "No, Mr. President, the images of kids dying on Crete did the convincing. The Russians and the Chinese do not like to see civilians dying."

  "Still, old boy, you may have saved our collective asses."

  Niles stood and walked over to the president's side of the conference table and knelt beside his chair.

  "Mr. President, this is just a stay, not a pardon. If we don't stop the Coalition from using the Wave against these people, they're not going to give a damn who's guilty or innocent. They now know their main enemy is on Crete and they will destroy it with nuclear weapons if they have to. We would do the same if we were losing cities. Our people beneath Crete still have to stop the Coalition from attacking their countries."

  "But now that the Coalition knows they are found out, why would they continue?"

  "The Coalition has survived through worse many times. They will attack and then disappear, only to resurface with new identities and the same hidden wealth, and they will still win by offering financial assistance to the countries that are devastated. They have been planning this thing since the end of World War Two."

  The president stood among the gathered men and women of the Security Council, who were still smiling from ear to ear. Then he looked at the threat board; down at the bottom sat the small island of Crete.

  "Niles, I've heard about his prowess in the field, but tell me again how good your Colonel Collins really is."

  18

  OPERATION BACKDOOR CRETE

  It had taken far longer to get men and equipment through the small access tunnel, or Ratzville, as the men were calling it, than they had originally thought. A full fifty minutes had been wasted as they struggled through the filthy tunnel. When they finally made it out, the lead SEAL unit reported that the sewer shaft was clear for at least two miles.

  "Ryan!" Jack called over his shoulder.

  "Yes, sir?"

  "The marines having any luck with the radios yet?"

  "Negative. We can't even get the local Atlantis AM station," he joked, but stopped smiling when the marines around him looked on with sour faces. "No, nothing, Colonel."

  Jack looked at his watch. Almost a full hour and a half since Morning Thunder had kicked off.

  "Jack, are you feeling that?" Sarah asked. "The Coalition has started the Wave."

  Collins didn't say anything; he knew that she was right. He was feeling it in his inner ear, just as Sarah had said he would.

  "Look, when this thing starts, you watch your ass. I don't want a dead girl--" Jack caught himself. "Just watch your butt, Lieutenant," he said quickly and then walked off.

  "What does the colonel have to say?" Mendenhall asked, walking up to Sarah.

  "Nothing important, I guess."

  ATLANTIS

  Tomlinson was sitting in the now well-lit Empirium Chamber. The engineers had shored up what they could and roped off the worst areas. He had watched the men working without comment until his eyes had settled on something jutting from a large slab of marble. He had been looking at it for well over thirty minutes, mesmerized
by the sight of the skeletal arm and hand. There was a mold-covered bronze knife clutched in the blackened fingers, the bones still curled around the hilt. He was content just to look and wonder who the person had been.

  "Sir, we are ready. Power is at one hundred percent and we have full continuity in the power lines to the Black Sea and Lake Shiolin."

  Tomlinson, without looking up from the hand and knife, smiled. "You forgot the Long Island Sound, Professor; is that line also active?"

  "Yes, sir. The amplification modules are placed one mile from the Davidson fault line and thirty-three miles from the continental plate."

  "Very good. That should create quite a headache in the financial district, wouldn't you say?"

  "It should, yes," Engvall answered as he turned and slowly walked away.

  Tomlinson looked up, but all he saw was the professor's backside as he moved into the shadows of the Empirium Chamber. Then he lowered his head and stared at the arm and hand again. He tilted his head and seemed to be somewhere else.

  The Atlantean Wave equipment with the five massive fifty-thousand-watt generators had been placed inside a natural bowl surrounded by solid rock. The hole, it was surmised, must have been a manmade lake fifteen thousand years before. A 180-foot statue of Poseidon had once sat in the middle of the lake, rising a 100 feet into the air. Poseidon, the Greek god of the seas, now lay in a crumpled heap around the sides of the dry lake with only his island pedestal still in the center.

  Technicians were working at a hundred monitoring stations inside the bowl and another twenty sat at stations on the hundred-foot tower. They all knew that the power they were about to unleash could not be calculated in normal terms because of the added power of the Key; with its intricate tone grooves and strange properties, such power usage was unknown.

  After studying the Key's grooves, Engvall knew that the decibel level they had used before paled in comparison to what the Ancients had accomplished. They had duplicated only 3 percent of what the Atlantean Key had in its etched surface. The power of the diamond was awesome. They had placed the blue diamond in its cradle for only a moment in the initial test; when they had all felt the strength of the device as it started emitting a tone that they could not hear. So far, thirty men and women had reported to the makeshift field hospital where some of the troops from above were being treated, which upset Tomlinson no end, due to the fact he had wanted the cowards, as he called them, kept separate from the scientists, lest they cause doubts about their security.