The Jewel of Babylon (The Unusual Operations Division Book 1)
Page 9
Brenda sighed as well as David. The trip would hurt regardless of how gentle Stephen was. It was a long rocky switchback and a cold cave to look forward to up top. Stephen picked her up as softly as any man could have, looking her in the eyes as he did so. She managed a momentary grimace before smiling back into his deep brown eyes.
David knew he was going to have a hard time concentrating. The proximity to so many Relics was driving his sensitive mind wild.
“Cynthia,” Marcus called out. “Stay with the pilots and cover our asses.”
A thumbs up signal showed Marcus she heard what he was telling her. She was a good shot and awesome in a bind. After all, the crew had been in worse situations than this and Cynthia had proven her worth time and time again.
“Bishop and I will be taking point,” he said, checking his weapon one last time. The cool air of the morning and the sun that had raised high into the sky was refreshing. The quiet was broken only by beating helicopter rotors, the occasional short burst of heavy weapons fire, and the softly whipping wind that sent dust floating across the road and over the cliff. Marcus took a moment to take it all in and breathe in the fact that he was alive before starting off toward the unknown.
Bishop bounded forward with Marcus guarding his progress. Then, he would find cover and Marcus would repeat the progress. It made the trip quicker than they had expected it would be, especially since the Apache had already told them the area was clear. Five minutes and the two were on either side of the cave peering in.
A large gravely area led up to the opening of the cave. It was a wide enough area to land a helicopter and Marcus knew their exit strategy would be covered. On every side but one, the mountain sloped away from the mouth of the cave and the high peak behind it.
He just hoped the next helicopters would not suffer the same fate they had. Two helicopter crashes in one twenty four hour period seemed like an unlikely event to survive.
Marcus was on the right side of the cave and Bishop had bound across to the other side. It was a large oval opening, about ten feet high and fifteen feet wide. The inside was dark and damp and empty. Nothing was there.
Flashlight beams cut across the swath of dark cave like lasers in a night show when Bishop and Marcus turned their weapon-mounted LED flashlights on. The floor was smooth and flat and met the steep walls at a ninety degree angle, making Marcus wonder if the cave had been mined. A string of lights swung lazily from the roof in a single file. Most of the bulbs were broken or obviously burned out long ago.
At the back of the cave was a door. Marcus could not tell from this distance with the little light shining in from the sun and the weak flashlights, but he thought the door looked sturdy. He moved in, quietly creeping along the side of the cave with Bishop at his side. The crouched teammates moved forward slowly, straining to hear if there were any noises coming from beyond the heavy barricade.
Once at the door, the two killed their lights and tried hard not to move. Both of them breathed completely silent through their mouths, as slowly as they could manage. They heard nothing but the sound of their own hearts; no shuffling feet, no breathing, and no talking. There was nothing. Marcus wondered how long that door had been shut. Perhaps there was another entrance they had not been informed of.
Stephen had arrived carrying Brenda as gingerly as a baby. He set her down at the mouth of the cave and she immediately pulled a computer from her backpack along with a camera and some detection equipment. David hovered near the mouth of the cave, looking unsure as to whether he wanted to enter or not.
The big black man crept silently down the length of the cave to the door. He came to rest kneeling between Marcus and Bishop, their ears still pressed against the heavy oak.
“You two are a piece of work,” he whispered. Bishop, his mouth agape and eyes unfocused, gave him a wink.
“I don’t hear anything,” Marcus said.
“Neither do I,” answered Bishop.
The dark cavern echoed the men’s whispers. Like an opera hall, the acoustics were perfect for giving away lurking, whispering men. “Good thing no one was home,” Marcus thought quietly.
Three flashlights painted the door in new light, revealing new designs its maker had never anticipated. Bullet holes riddled the heavy oak strip and Marcus even saw a little splash of blood. In the center, toward the top of one of the two-by-four boards was a dirty, almost faded, insignia. Marcus stood on his toes to see what it was.
A symbol like an eagle was holding a circle in its talons, though whatever the circle once held was long ago burned away. It was the same, matching Nazi insignia, Brenda had seen on the crate John was carrying.
“Let’s get this door open,” Marcus said aloud. His voice bounced loudly from wall to wall, carrying out through the entrance where Brenda was sitting. Just outside, he could see that Cynthia was kneeling near the entrance behind one of the pilots guarding their only escape. The other one would surely be acting as a sentinel, somewhere out on the open gravel patch.
Stephen did as Marcus asked in no time at all. He reared up with one of his massive legs and smashed the door nearly off its hinges. The bolt with the old lock on it came straight out of the cavern wall. It had to have been at least four inches long.
He flashed Marcus a mischievous smile and gave him a pat on the back.
Behind the door was a much different cave. Both sides were lined with boxes nearly to the ceiling. It was around the same height, but much wider to accommodate so much stuff. The cave trailed off into the dark and around a corner where it disappeared. It must have been thirty feet before the bend.
There was a generator at the end of the string of lights, stored directly near the door. It looked old and probably had not been used in years. Marcus doubted it would work. Instead, he took a handful of chemical lights from his backpack and snapped them to life all at once. The green light cast an eerie pall over the inside of the cave, but it was enough for the team to move around without bumping into anything that may be in their way. With the flashlights attached to the bottoms of their weapons, they had enough light to work with.
Each box in the cave was different, whether in height or length. Some were huge and reached almost to the ceiling while others were small enough to fit a coffee mug. All of them had the same Nazi symbol branded on one of their sides. Among the writing Marcus saw decorating each of them was German, Mandarin, and even a few words written in English. There must have been hundreds of them.
“The electromagnetic frequency detector is going crazy, Marcus,” Brenda’s voice echoed from the entrance of the tunnel. “This place is loaded with Relics. You need to be careful in there, who knows what you’ll run into. David should be with you.”
“If any of the Relics were dangerous to us, we would know it by now,” Marcus yelled back down the tunnel. “Besides, I’m sure he wants to stay outside.
“Get Cynthia in here with the camera and the EMF detector. There are so many boxes I can’t count them all. The UOD is going to have a field day with this find. It’s like a museum.”
“I’ve got Henry on the computer,” Brenda said. Marcus had lost contact when he entered too far into the cavern. “I’ll let him know we’ve got a cache of dangerous items.”
A few moments later and Cynthia was strolling down the cave, weapon dangling from one hand. She grabbed the camera from Brenda and was using the night vision setting to find her way through the dark spots. Marcus wondered why he had not thought of that idea.
“Snap a few shots, will you?” he asked her. She nodded in response.
“No problem, boss,” she said. Cynthia had a beautiful voice, when she chose to use it. It was always just a little hoarse, like maybe she had just woken up. “What are you three up to?”
“Bishop and I are going to see what else we can find. Stephen needs to check on Brenda, I think. It looked like she needed a little help with something back there.”
The big black man found it hard to keep his gratitude hidden. He smiled, no
dded, and mumbled something as he walked back down the length of the cave. Marcus was sure he saw something between the two now. He briefly wondered why he had been left out of the loop before turning his attention back to the present situation and wondering what was waiting in the darkness for them.
“Be careful back there,” Cynthia said to Marcus and Bishop, sensing their hesitation at entering the dark cave. She knew that if anything was down there, it would most likely be in the form of a hidden drop or a well-placed booby trap. Hopefully they would have enough sense to spot them if they existed, but Cynthia had her reservations. In a cave this big with such a stockpile of items that could affect everyone in certain ways, they would be sure to see something they didn’t want to. Her smile and flirtatious punch helped break the tension though. “I would hate to have to come in after you two.”
Chapter 9
A line of chemical lights trailed behind the two as they slowly moved forward past the bend in the cave. Each of them had a pocket full and neither of them wanted to get lost. Marcus could smell a musk beginning to form as they traveled deeper and was concerned that the cave would eventually end abruptly with some water-filled hole. The green and red chem-lights filled the interior of the now uneven walled cave with a haunting glow, but Marcus was grateful for it. More than once now he had ducked under a low hanging rock he would have otherwise ran face first into.
The deeper the two went, the muskier the place became. A cold breeze seemed to carry the smell from somewhere deeper down the twisting, turning cavern. It was the unmistakable smell of death; months old rotting flesh.
Around one last bend the cave suddenly opened into an expansive cavern. Its walls were far enough away so that the chemical light glow was lost within the chamber. The small radius of the three inch long lights was no match for the massive opening before them. Marcus and Bishop both cracked three more glow sticks and threw them out into the darkness. The glow showed an uneven surface, etched from what looked like ancient lava that had cooled in water. Circular walls boxed the cave in and from what Marcus could see there was no other entrance.
He and Bishop turned their flashlights back on before moving off again. The stench here was even worse; Marcus knew he had to be close to its source. He put one foot in front of the other, trying hard not to stumble on the uneven ground. Bishop was behind him, walking backwards just as carefully. His flashlight danced across the ceiling, the walls from where they had entered, and the floor in sweeping patterns.
“Marcus,” Bishop said aloud. “Look at this.”
Brenda was in pain. Her leg was starting to throb. She knew that it was swelling and she could not do anything to stop it. Hopefully the helicopter transport would be here soon so they could get the hell out of this cave and back to civilization. She was more angry than upset and Stephen could sense it. This would signify the end of her role in the investigation, at least when it came to footwork.
Gregory was as good a boss as anyone could ask for, but when it came to letting a wounded agent continue working a case there was no doubt he would not be lenient. If anything required her to move quickly, she would be relying on Stephen for help.
She eyed the man gratefully. Her blue eyes locked with his and for a moment they just stared at each other. No one else knew that the two had recently found love. They had been keeping it secret so that it did not alter their working arrangements. Brenda felt that Marcus was beginning to sense something. If he did know, they’d never hear the end of it.
“You scared me,” Stephen said quietly, his dark eyes searching over her. “I saw you at the bottom of the pile and I thought you’d been seriously hurt.”
“I was seriously hurt,” she played. “My leg is pretty beat up, truthfully, and it’s still hard to catch my breath. Other than that, I’ll be fine. I’m worried Marcus and Gregory won’t let me continue the mission.”
“Neither will I,” Stephen said. “You’ve been hurt and you need medical attention. It would be foolish to continue on without at least an x-ray.”
“Stephen, you’re not going to tell me how to do my job because you care for me personally. Work and our personal lives are not going to mingle. By God, if you come in between me and this case…”
“This has nothing to do with how I feel about you,” Stephen cut her off, a little too loudly. Cynthia turned her head for an instant like maybe she had heard, and then went back to photographing. She wasn’t fooling anyone; she could hear a fly fart from ten meters in that cave. “This has to do with the fact that a field agent is wounded and cannot perform her job optimally. You need to see a doctor or your entire career as a field agent could be in jeopardy.”
“I am the best analyst this team has got,” Brenda retorted. “I will not be sent home, alone, while everyone else does their jobs. I’ll be fine with the pain until we get back to Washington, D.C., really.”
“Well,” Stephen said softly. “You are pretty good at your job. You’re so good you got yourself crushed by three big guys and a petite woman.”
“You can stop anytime you’d like,” she growled. David had approached rather unnoticed and was within earshot. He seemed worried and was farther inside the cave than he had been since they arrived. It seemed that either David was learning to control himself around the heightened activity of the concentration of Relics, or he was growing bored of hanging around the pilots.
“What is it David,” Brenda asked. The look on his face concerned her. His mouth was slack, his eyes were fixed; David was definitely looking more Cro-Magnon than usual.
“Something is wrong,” he whispered. “Something isn’t right.”
Stephen stood up and grabbed the man by the shoulders. He knew to take the warning seriously and intended to figure out what was happening. David’s eyes were wide and his pupils were huge. The man was steady as an ox, whatever shaking he was doing before was now replaced with stillness like an oak tree on a windless day. Cold emotion seemed to pour from him.
“What is it?” Stephen whispered sharply into David’s face. “What is wrong?”
“There is something in here; something strong. It’s overwhelming how terrible it feels. We need to get out of this place, now.”
“You feel it?” Stephen said. “You feel something here? Is one of the Relics acting up?”
Brenda was pecking away frantically at the keyboard while simultaneously taking readings from an electromagnetic frequency detector. The detection device was maxed out. Unlike moments before, the device was buried in the red meaning some huge pulse of energy was overwhelming the area with electromagnetic radiation. She was not getting any help from the computer. The link between Cynthia’s camera and her view screen had mysteriously gone blank.
“This is no Relic,” David said, blinking his wide eyes. “It’s something worse.”
“Guys,” Cynthia’s voice was almost shrill, echoing down from inside the cave. “I think I may have found something.”
Marcus crept along inside the cave, his flashlight cutting wide swaths across the darkness in its bowels. He was ready to turn around and head back to the entrance, but something would not let him. He just knew that if they kept searching, they would find something useful.
The place was cold, much colder than the outside portions of the cave. Marcus was thankful for the body armor he wore along with the thick long sleeves of his camouflage top and thin gloves. With the little light they did have, he could see his own breath rising in slowly drifting clouds. The air was very still, very quiet, and very humid.
Bishop had shown him a painting on the wall which must have been hundreds of years old. It was just old art like that which could be found in any ancient cave; a blank hand with black spray around it, an old depiction of a camel. But one symbol stood out amongst the others in stark contrast.
There was the outline of something fanged and horned above all the rest, directly above the entrance to the cave. Small beady eyes sat above a snout, cruel looking fangs pierced its lower lips and horns de
corated its skull. Marcus thought it must be some ancient deity. It was sure ugly enough. He thought hard about where he had seen it before, but nothing came to mind. It must have been something he saw on a movie once. Either way, he did not think that painting was the only thing that was making the hair stand up on the back of his neck.
A flicker in his flashlight made him think about turning around. He only had two glow sticks left and anything battery operated seemed to be acting strange in the cave. The glow sticks poked his leg reassuringly and he patted them to be sure they wouldn’t fall out.
“I may be running low on batteries or something,” Bishop said. “My flashlight just flicked off and on.”
“Yeah, mine too,” Marcus said. “I think it’s time we head back.”
“No, wait,” Bishop suddenly exclaimed. He had moved off to one side of the cave while Marcus was on the other and had obviously found something important. Important enough to keep them in the creepy cave, at least. Marcus hoped it was not something else that gave him the heebie-jeebies, but knew it would be.
“There is a hole over here. It’s like an opening to another cave. We could have walked right into it and not even noticed. Come here, I think it’s the source of that God awful stench,” he said.
“Do you have any more chem-lights?” Bishop asked Marcus.
Marcus dreaded the question. He knew what was coming next.
“Give me one. I want to see how deep this thing is.” Marcus complied, making the distance between the two men in just a few long steps. He handed the curious Bishop one of the remaining two lights and huddled as close to the opening as he could get.
It was a very wide opening, at least ten feet across. The walls were smooth, dark and wet unlike the rest of the dry uneven cave. He wondered what could possibly be down there besides a fetid pool of water that could be producing that stench.
Bishop cracked the light, shook it and then tossed it down into the cave. Perhaps by misfortune alone, the little tube light bounced not twenty feet below the opening and disappeared beneath something, snuffing what little light the tube gave into nothing at all. Marcus was both appalled at their bad luck and concerned that Bishop would want even more of the precious glow tubes.