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The Founders Page 9

by Richard Turner

Maclean quickly filled Grant in on their trip to Washington and the subsequent brush with the opposition.

  “So, why aren’t they working from here?” Grant asked.

  “Because I still haven’t received a full background check on Doctor Collins,” said Colonel Andrews as he walked into the room. “Once I have it, I’m going to offer her a job here, with us. Until then, she and Doctor Hayes will remain in a secure location on base.”

  “Fair enough.” Grant was about to sit down when he spotted an unfamiliar face standing behind the colonel.

  “Captain Grant, Sergeant Maclean, let me introduce my new XO, Lieutenant Colonel Sandra Mason,” said Andrews.

  “Ma’am, glad to have you aboard,” said Grant, shaking her hand.

  “Likewise,” said Maclean.

  “Thanks for the warm welcome,” she replied. “My head is still spinning from yesterday’s briefing. It’s going to take more than a few days to get acclimatized to my new assignment.”

  “I’m still not acclimated to what we do here,” said Maclean. “You just learn to roll with the punches.”

  “Morning, everyone,” said Elena, joining her friends.

  Mason introduced herself to the other woman before Andrews had everyone take a seat.

  “I’ve pushed off this morning’s brief until 1000 hours, so I could speak to you three, along with Doctors Hayes and Collins before the daily routine kicked in,” explained Andrews as he activated the screen on the wall. Hayes and Collins appeared, and he made the appropriate introductions.

  “Long time, no see,” quipped Maclean. “Having fun yet?”

  “Not really,” responded Hayes. “We’re in the basement of some building belonging to the military police. It’s hardly the best place from which to conduct proper scientific work.”

  “I don’t mind it one bit,” said Collins. “I feel a hell of a lot safer here than back at my apartment.”

  “Well, it will have to do for now,” said Andrews, ending the discussion. “I’d like Captain Grant and Doctor Leon to bring Ms. Mason and me up-to-date on their experiences in Montana. After that, you have the floor, Jeremy.”

  Elena led off, with Grant helping to flesh out what he could remember from his night spent outdoors. It was the pictures of San Fernando Mountain that elicited the most discussion. No one was sure why the pictures had been drawn, but Grant was adamant that they go there without delay. Hayes continued the discussion and explained that the map was still proving to be quite a mystery.

  “The biggest puzzle is the ink on the map,” explained Hayes.

  “How so?” asked Andrews.

  “It’s made with a tree not native to Egypt.”

  “So, where’s it from?” Grant asked.

  “Bolivia.”

  Grant stood straight up. A chill ran down his back as he looked over at the pictures Susan had drawn of the mountain projected on another screen. “San Fernando is in Bolivia. There’s no way in hell this is a coincidence.”

  “I agree,” said Elena. “Something very important must have happened there in the past, and Susan is subconsciously guiding us there.”

  Maclean shook his head. “Or we’re being deliberately led into a trap. There’s no way a child as young as Susan would understand latitude and longitude. Someone…or something must have implanted those coordinates in her mind.”

  “Not necessarily,” Elena countered. “People with A-negative blood are quite often very intelligent and have psychic abilities they may not be aware of.”

  “I can’t agree,” said Hayes. “I’ve never seen any empirical evidence that says a person will act a certain way just because of their blood type. It’s all New Age poppycock.”

  “Poppycock or not, I’m willing to go out on a limb and see where the chips fall,” said Andrews. “A trip to San Fernando won’t be too time-consuming. You could go there and be back in under a week.”

  Hayes’ face blanched. “You really want me to go back out in the field?”

  Andrews leaned forward and looked up at the screen. “I sure do, Professor.”

  “But I thought Alaska was enough.”

  “Don’t forget you’re a volunteer like everyone else here, so try to enjoy your hike through the Andes.”

  “Sir, what about me?” asked Gabrielle.

  “I’m sorry, Doctor Collins, but you’re not cleared to join my people in the field. Besides, I thought you had a broken leg.”

  “Yes, but this is something that only comes once in a lifetime.”

  “If you want to help, you can try and identify the language written below Antarctica on the map.”

  “Yes, sir, I can do that.” Gabrielle did nothing to mask her displeasure at being left behind.

  “Well, that settles everything. I’ll have your travel arrangements made right away, so you can jet down there later today. The mountain looks like it’s located in a quiet part of Bolivia, so you shouldn’t have too many people poking their noses into your business.”

  “What if our friends should reappear?” asked Grant.

  “Then you have the right of self-defense. Make sure you take sufficient firepower to make anyone think twice about screwing with you.”

  “I’ll see to that,” said Maclean.

  “I won’t hold you any longer. You’ve all got a ton of work to do before you board your plane. Dismissed.”

  Grant looked over at Maclean and saw the concern in his friend’s eyes. “Quit looking so glum. I doubt Susan would lead us into a trap.”

  “No disrespect, Dave, but how do you know?”

  “If you’d met her, you’d know she’s a sweet, young girl without a malicious bone in her body.”

  “If you trust her with your life, then I guess I’ll have to as well.”

  “Come on, let’s check in with the supply section and see what we can get our hands on.”

  Maclean’s eyes lit up. “I love it when Christmas comes early.”

  17

  Santiago, Chile

  Peter Roth sat alone in his darkened office. His weekly teleconference with the other principal members of the Aurora Group was over, and once again, they had vetoed his plan to enact revenge for the loss of his brother, Max, in Alaska. Without hard evidence to back up his claims that Max had met his death at the hands of people connected to Project Gauntlet, they would not budge. Killing U.S. Special Operations soldiers in Georgia was one thing but attacking Gauntlet personnel on American soil was another thing entirely. Aurora existed because it lived and worked in the shadows. Any further confrontation with the U.S. military would surely bring the full attention of the world’s largest intelligence agencies onto their organization, and that would derail decades of effort.

  Roth stared at the blank screen on his laptop and let out a tired sigh. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand why his associates couldn’t see the threat Gauntlet presented to their future well-being. He wanted them all dead for what they had done to his brother. Two expeditions to Alaska had failed to turn up any clues as to what had befallen Max and his men. But Roth knew in his heart that the soldiers assigned to guard the civilian scientists during their search for the downed UFO had killed his brother and disposed of his body in such a way that it would never be found. Regardless of the wishes of his fellow conspirators, he had kept close tabs on Grant and Maclean ever since. He thought he had them in Libya, but somehow, they had evaded capture. And then, once more in Washington, Maclean had acted a little too clever and had managed to avoid a trap set for him.

  Roth’s stomach rumbled. He grimaced as his ulcer reminded him that he was drinking far too much every night. It wasn’t his fault; it had become a necessity. Every night, after he passed out, he would have the same dream of his brother desperately begging him for help, just before a darkened shape lunged out and ripped his throat from his neck. He reached into a drawer and pulled out a bottle of antacids to help ease the storm brewing in his stomach. Roth dumped four tablets into his hand and popped them into his mouth. He sat
back in his chair and closed his eyes while he chewed and swallowed his medicine.

  His cell phone buzzed.

  Roth opened his eyes and picked up the phone. He recognized the number as one of his men and answered it. “Do you have news?”

  “Yes,” said the man on the other end of the call. “My source tells me the people you are looking for are heading for Bolivia.”

  “Did he say why?”

  “No. It’s all being done very quietly.”

  “Find out what you can and then assemble your team. Do what you must, but I want them all captured alive.”

  “Cost, sir?”

  “I don’t care what it costs. Spend whatever amount you need to.”

  “Very good, sir, I’ll call you again when we’re on the move to Bolivia.” With that, the call ended.

  Roth placed his phone down and grinned. His black mood faded, replaced with a burning desire for revenge. He planned to torture them, one by one, until only Grant was left alive. As the senior person on the team, Roth held him more accountable for his brother’s death than the others. Grant would be skinned alive before being fed to some wild boar that roamed the forests behind his summer home in the Andes.

  Whatever Grant’s people were up to in Bolivia was of no interest to Roth. All he could think about was avenging Max’s death in the most painful way imaginable. And this time, he was going to join his people in the field. There would be no screwups now, or people would pay with their lives.

  18

  Bolivia

  The view from the small window on the fuselage of the C-5 Galaxy as it flew over the Amazon Jungle reminded Grant of a vast, green sea. For as far as the eye could see, there was nothing but lush tropical rainforest.

  After refueling in Bogota, Colombia, the massive military transport plane was nearing its destination of La Paz, Bolivia. The base they would be landing at was home to the Transporte Aereo Militar, an airline run by the Bolivian military, which reached out to the more rural communities of the country. It was the perfect place for Grant’s team to begin their search of San Fernando without drawing unwanted attention.

  Grant stepped back from the window, stretched his arms over his head and then touched his toes, easing the small kinks in his back. They had been on the go for nearly ten hours already, and he was looking forward to putting his feet back on the ground. He grabbed a boxed lunch and joined his colleagues, sitting on a crate of spare parts destined for the Bolivian Air Force.

  “I can’t say I approve of the mode of transport or the food,” moaned Hayes, eyeing what appeared to be a tuna salad sandwich.

  “Don’t complain, Professor,” said Maclean. “This is five-star dining compared to what the Army will feed you.”

  “As for the plane, we’re trying to get in and out of Bolivia without running into our friends,” said Grant. “Flying commercial would have been pointless. The opposition would have undoubtedly picked up our trail the second our names were loaded onto a plane’s manifest. As far as the U.S. Air Force is concerned, we’re nothing more than extra cargo on this flight. To help muddy the waters, our names are listed on another military flight, which is not due to land in Australia for another twelve hours.”

  “Hopefully, it works,” added Elena.

  “It should.”

  “Yeah, but it’s unnerving how the bad guys seem to know our every move,” said Maclean. “Someone must be tipping them off.”

  Grant opened his lunch. He wasn’t too hungry, so he chose an apple to graze on. “I spoke with Colonel Andrews before we left, and he told me that he’s got a computer technician going through our computer systems to see if we have a mole in our organization.”

  “How long do you think that will take to accomplish?” asked Hayes.

  “I’m not an IT expert. Hopefully, whoever is doing the search is good at their job and nails the bastard sooner rather than later. I’m just as pissed as Jim is with the opposition’s uncanny ability to know what we’re up to.”

  “Is someone going to meet us in La Paz?” asked Elena.

  Grant nodded. “Captain Morales of the Bolivian Air Force will be our liaison while we’re in his country. Luckily, Mount San Fernando is only an hour’s chopper ride from the base.”

  “Speaking of that, do we have anything new from HQ on the mountain?” asked Maclean.

  “Just a second,” said Elena as she opened her laptop and scrolled through her messages. “I’ve got something from Captain Jones. She says that they may have found something on the drawings that we missed the first time we looked them over.”

  “And what would that be?” said Hayes.

  “It would appear Susan is a far better artist than anyone gave her credit for. On both pictures, near the summit on the eastern side of the mountain, is a small, dark spot, which doesn’t look like much to the naked eye. However, when the pictures were scanned and then placed against a 3D image of the mountain, what looks like an opening appears.”

  Grant sat up straight. “Is it the entrance to a cave?”

  Elena turned her laptop, so Grant could see the image. “It’s hard to tell, but it could be a way inside the mountain.”

  “It has to be. Why else would she have included it on her drawings?”

  Maclean raised a hand. “Folks, I don’t want to be seen as the nabob of negativity, but why hasn’t this cave been discovered before today?”

  “Perhaps the name Devil’s Lair was enough to keep the locals and the Spanish colonials from exploring it?” mused Grant.

  “Elena, is there anything on your computer as to why the mountain has such an inviting name?” asked Maclean.

  She looked down and scrolled through her messages for a few seconds. “Okay, here’s what our people have been able to learn about the mountain. When the Spanish first established a settlement in the valley below the mountain, a priest by the name of Santiago heard tales of villagers hiking up the mountain in search of precious minerals, never to return.”

  “When was that?” asked Grant.

  “1573.”

  Hayes shook his head. “They could have fallen to their deaths or died of exposure. Just because someone vanishes does not mean they met with foul play.”

  “True,” said Elena, “but there have been reports of strange lights seen above the mountain over the centuries, and more than a dozen people have gone missing on the mountain in the past century alone.”

  “Which makes me wonder why Susan would want us to go there,” said Hayes. “After all, how does this place relate to her alleged nocturnal visits?”

  Grant turned to Hayes and fought the urge to raise his voice. “The decision to come down here is mine. Not once did Susan ever say we needed to check out San Fernando. I’ve got a feeling deep in my gut that there is something here that connects the drawings to her visitations. As for her visits, they’re real enough. Both Elena and I experienced something we still cannot explain. You don’t lose an hour of your life two nights in a row and not think something abnormal is going on. Whatever is happening to that little girl is real, and I want to put a stop to it before it goes any further.”

  “I didn’t mean any disrespect,” said Hayes, sitting back slightly. “It’s just that we seem to be running when we should perhaps be walking to make sure we get this right.”

  “I’m inclined to agree with the professor on this one,” said Maclean. “We know so little about what we’re going up against. If there’s a threat there, we’re kind of walking in blind. You sold the boss on this mission based on your experiences in Montana and the ink we found on the map. Even I, as the team’s conspiracy nut, have a hard time believing the two are related. We’ve been lucky so far, but even you have to admit, Dave, that you can’t count on it always working in your favor.”

  Grant let out an exasperated sigh. He could see their points, but he was sure the answer to stopping the multi-generational visits to the Dove family was hidden somewhere in San Fernando. “You both have valid concerns, but the longer we
waited to come down here, the greater the chance that the opposition would have learned what was going on and tried to beat us to whatever there is on or inside the mountain.”

  “True, but we need to exercise caution.”

  “I agree. If anyone has any suggestions, now’s the time to tell me.”

  Hayes cleared his throat. “Captain, ask the colonel for a satellite survey of the mountain, to see what can be seen using light detection and ranging technology, so we’ll know if there’s anything on the mountain that can’t be seen using the naked eye.”

  “Hey, I’ve heard of that,” said Maclean. “They’re using that to find ancient lost cities all over the world, aren’t they?”

  Hayes nodded “That they are. If we had a more up-to-date 3D rendering of the mountain, it may give us an advantage, should we need it.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Grant saw Elena give a quick nod. “Okay, consider it done. What else?”

  “Moving about on the side of a mountain can be dangerous work,” said Maclean. “It’s even more dangerous when you have inexperienced personnel with you. The only way to do this safely and in a timely manner will be to fly to the summit and carefully make our way down the snow and ice field that has accumulated up there over the winter.”

  Grant nodded.

  “I know I’m going to catch flak for this, but I strongly recommend we leave the two docs behind until we know what we’re dealing with. If we think it’s safe to proceed, we can have them flown up by helicopter to join us.”

  “Wait a second here,” Elena protested. “That’s not fair. That mountain doesn’t look that difficult to climb.”

  Grant raised a hand. “Elena, you said so yourself that a dozen people in the last hundred years have died up there, which means it’s clearly not an easy climb. Most of San Fernando is a sheer rock face. No matter which side you approach it from, the climb would challenge even the most accomplished climber. Jim is right. Once we find this cave entrance and deem it safe, I promise to call you, so you can join us.”

 

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