“Don’t worry, Professor,” said Maclean. “I’ve brought helmet cameras and state-of-the-art radios with us. It’ll be like you’re right there with us, only safer.”
“I have no objections to this new course of action,” announced Hayes.
Grant patted him on the shoulder. “Jeremy, I somehow didn’t think you would.”
The C-5 landed smoothly on the long runway and taxied back to a hangar on the military side of the El Alto International Airport, where a crew of Bolivian service personnel waited to help offload the plane.
Grant led his team off the C-5 and out onto the tarmac. The humid air made them feel like they had just walked into a sauna. Lush jungle vegetation surrounded the airstrip. In the distance, the snow-covered peaks of the Andes reached up toward the sky. A Jeep drove out of the hangar and stopped next to the plane. A man in his forties with a walrus mustache, dressed in military fatigues, leaped from the passenger’s seat.
“Good day, my name’s Captain Morales,” said the officer in English, extending his hand in greeting.
“Good day to you, too,” replied Grant, shaking the man’s firm hand. He quickly introduced everyone else to Morales, whose eyes lit up when he saw Elena.
“Welcome to Bolivia,” said Morales. “Please call me Marcos. I have been assigned to assist you while you’re down here. I’ve also been told not to ask too many questions. I hope you’re not with the CIA?”
Grant smiled. “Do we look like we work for the CIA?”
Morales looked over at Hayes and shook his head. “No, I guess not. Please leave your baggage in the back of my Jeep, and I’ll have it driven over to my office.” Morales picked up Elena’s bags for her and stowed them in the vehicle. When the luggage and equipment was on board, the driver drove away.
At the group of hangars, they exited the vehicle and claimed their baggage.
“This way, please,” said Morales, indicating a tall, wooden hangar close by.
They walked into the building, and Morales led them to a room at the rear.
“Welcome to my office,” said Morales. “Please consider it yours until you are done whatever it is you are here to do.”
“Marcos, what we’re doing isn’t all that secret,” said Grant. “My friend and I would like to be given a lift to San Fernando Mountain, while our colleagues track our progress from back here.”
Morales scrunched up his face in curiosity. “What is so interesting to you about that particular mountain?”
“I thought you were told not to pry?” said Maclean.
“I was. I’m just not good at following orders. Hence, I’m still a captain when all of my peers are colonels.”
“We’re looking for the remains of a couple of American university students who went missing ten years ago,” explained Grant, using their cover story. “Recent photos taken by a passing satellite may have found their base camp, and the State Department is paying us to hopefully find and bring back the remains of the two men.”
Morales chortled. “I’ve heard better lies from my children when they were growing up. To the best of my knowledge, no Americans have ever climbed San Fernando. Don’t worry; I’m not here to spy on you. I’d just like to know if the men who are going to fly you to and from the mountain are in any danger.”
“Marcos, I’m not sure if we will bump into anyone up there, but to be forewarned is to be forearmed.”
“I agree, and thank you for your honesty. I’ll have my men mount a couple of machine guns on the Huey just in case things take a turn for the worst. When do you want to leave?”
Grant checked his watch and saw it was coming up on one in the afternoon. “Can we go skids-up in the next half hour to forty-five minutes?”
“I don’t see why not. I’ll go inform the crew and come back to get you when they are ready to depart.”
“Thanks.”
Morales left the office and barked at the Jeep driver to get the vehicle started.
“You’re not leaving yourself much time,” said Elena to Grant.
“The sooner Jim and I get up there and decide if it’s safe or not to proceed, the sooner you can join us.”
“Won’t it be dark by the time we join you?” asked Hayes.
“What’s wrong, Professor, afraid to camp out for the night?” ribbed Maclean.
“After what happened in Alaska, I’d rather stay here, surrounded by soldiers.”
“Well, you can’t,” said Grant. “We’re a team, and if there’s something of value in that cave, I want you there to help me understand what it is, and if it can be used to help put an end to Susan’s nocturnal visits.”
Maclean picked up a black plastic case and placed it on Morales’ desk. “Come on, Jeremy, help me get this gear set up, or you’re going to miss out on all the fun.”
Hayes shook his head. “Fun! My God, man, you should listen to yourself sometimes.”
“It wouldn’t do any good,” said Grant, cracking open another suitcase. “I’m around him all the time, and he’s always stuck on chipper.”
“Anyone can be miserable,” said Maclean, checking that the camera on his climbing helmet was working. “A positive outlook on life is essential for good morale.”
“Jeremy, just think of it as another exciting chapter in the tell-all book you will never be allowed to write,” teased Elena.
“I thought our trip to Alaska was going to be routine, and look how that turned out,” replied Hayes.
With a loud snap, Grant pulled back on the charging lever of his squat MP7 submachine gun, feeding a round into the chamber. “At least this time we know that it’s better to expect the worst and be ready for it.”
“Amen to that,” said Maclean, slapping home a fully loaded magazine into his SMG.
19
San Fernando loomed large through the helicopter pilot’s window. A recent storm had covered its peak with a fresh blanket of snow.
Grant took his seat in the back of the Huey helicopter and buckled himself in. He and Maclean had changed into warmer clothing for the climb. Both men wore winter boots, Gortex pants, and jackets with a fleece layer beneath.
“What are you looking at?” Grant asked, looking over his friend’s shoulder as the chopper smoothly rose from the ground.
Maclean held up his mini tablet. “I was just looking at the 3D image of the mountain sent to us just before we boarded the chopper. With the recent snowfall, I’m beginning to wonder if the cave entrance we’re looking for will be covered over.”
“I guess we’ll find out when we get there.”
Hayes’ voice came in loud and clear in the men’s headsets. “I just spoke with Gabrielle, and she’s convinced that the unknown writing on the map is a form of ancient writing that has never before been seen by modern eyes. She says that there are elements of ancient Egyptian and Mesoamerican hieroglyphs present. Colonel Andrews has given her permission to bring in a scholar from Harvard to take a look at the map and to help solve the mystery of where and when the writing came from.”
“Not a surprise there, Professor,” said Maclean. “This just adds more fuel to the fire that there was an unknown, ancient civilization that was wiped out when the world’s crust displaced itself a millennium ago.”
“Remember our discussion? Evidence, Sergeant, we need physical evidence.”
“Maybe we’ll find some for you.”
Partly amused, and partly weary, Grant cut off the bickering. “Anything else from HQ?”
“Unfortunately, the satellite pass over San Fernando didn’t reveal anything new about the mountain.”
“That’s too bad. Any word from Rebeca Dove regarding Susan?”
“No,” said Elena. “I’ll give her a call before Susan goes to bed tonight, to see how things are going.”
“Thanks.”
One of the helicopter’s door gunners reached over and tapped Grant on the arm. When he turned his head, he saw the soldier holding up a hand with his fingers spread. Grant nodded his understandi
ng. He keyed his headset mic. “Okay, we’ve got to go for now. We’re landing in five minutes’ time.”
“Roger that,” said Hayes. “I can see the images coming from your helmet cams clearly on my laptop.”
“Be careful,” said Elena.
“We will; hopefully, we’ll see you in a few hours.”
With the communication channel closed, Maclean looked at Grant. “I doubt we’ll see anyone until tomorrow.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because that sky doesn’t look too inviting,” said Maclean, pointing northward out the window at the ominous, dark gray clouds.
At that moment, the side doors slid open, and cold air rushed inside as both soldiers took position behind their machine guns.
“I guess they’re not taking any chances,” remarked Maclean.
“Better safe than sorry,” said Grant, watching the side of the mountain race past the open door as the chopper began its ascent.
It didn’t take long for the white-capped summit of San Fernando to come into view. The drop-off point loaded into the pilot’s GPS ensured that they would land within meters of the spot Grant had chosen. The helicopter slowed as the pilot brought the craft to land on a flat spot on the side of the mountain.
The portside gunner motioned for the two soldiers to disembark. With their packs held tightly in their hands, they got out of the helicopter and each dropped to one knee. They dug the sharpened steel crampons attached to the soles of their boots into the snow and turned their heads away from the chopper as the pilot applied power to the engines, churning up the snow into a blinding whiteout. Within seconds, the craft was gone, racing back to the safety of the base at La Paz.
As soon as the blowing snow settled, Grant prodded the snow at his feet with his ice ax to check its firmness. “Looks safe enough to walk on.”
Maclean nodded. He opened a pocket and pulled out his GPS. “We’re about three hundred meters from the cave. The way down from here doesn’t look too steep. I’ll take the lead, if you don’t mind.”
Grant shook his head and pulled down his sunglasses to block out the blinding light of the sun reflecting off the snow.
Maclean tossed a rope to tie around Grant’s waist. When he was done, Grant heaved on his rucksack and cursed the black clouds rapidly closing in from the north. “Okay, Jim. Time to earn our pay.”
Maclean waved in acknowledgement and began to pick his way down the snow-and-ice-covered peak.
Elena’s voice came through the headsets. “Captain Morales has just informed us that a storm is coming your way.”
“Yes, it was convenient of him to leave that out before we took off,” replied Grant. “Not to worry, Jim and I should be safe and sound in the cave in the next fifteen or so.”
“I guess we won’t see you until tomorrow at the earliest.”
“No, I don’t suppose we shall. Stay warm down there.”
“We’ll try.”
Grant could feel his body core warming up under his many layers of clothing and undid his jacket to let out some of the trapped heat. He called out to Maclean, “How are you doing?”
“Fine,” he replied. “According to my GPS, we should be nearing the ca—”
In the blink of an eye, Maclean vanished into the snow. The rope attaching them to each other snapped taut, and Grant jerked forward. He hadn’t been expecting Maclean to fall and wasn’t prepared for the sharp tug on his body. Unable to stop himself, he fell face-first and slid down the slope. Grant’s heart raced as he fought to get a grip on his ice ax. The moment he had it in his right hand, he jammed it into the hard-packed snow and dug his crampons in, trying to arrest his fall. Grant slid for another few meters before he finally came to a complete stop. He lifted his head to determine his surroundings and saw he had sailed right past the spot where Maclean had disappeared.
Gant raised his voice. “Hey, are you still alive in there?”
“Yeah, I’m sitting on my behind looking up at the sky,” replied Maclean. “What about you?”
“I went for a bit of a ride, but I’m okay. Stay where you are; I’m coming to you.”
A minute later, Grant looked down into the cavern entrance. Maclean was on his feet, looking up at him.
“I take it there’s no easy way in there?” he said to his friend.
Maclean shook his head. “Just turn about on your stomach and slide on down.”
Grant removed his pack and let it drop into the opening before getting down on his gut and sliding into the cavern entrance. He landed next to Maclean. “I guess I’m just more graceful than you.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
“For the love of God, don’t you two do that to me ever again,” admonished Elena in the men’s earpieces. “I’ve just started breathing again.”
“Sorry,” said Grant, opening the top flap of his backpack. “That wasn’t any fun for us, either.”
“It’s too dark where you are; we can’t get a visual. What can you see up there?” asked Hayes.
“Hold on a minute, Jeremy,” said Maclean as he retrieved his flashlight from his pack and switched it on. The light lit up the blackened chamber. They were in a cave that stretched back about fifteen meters before it narrowed into a tunnel, which dipped down into the mountain.
“Any sign of radiation?” asked Elena.
“None,” replied Grant, scanning the air with a handheld device.
Maclean walked to the end of the tunnel and pointed his light downward. “Uh, guys, are you seeing what I’m seeing?”
“Not really, please shine your light on what it is you think you see,” said Hayes.
Maclean lowered his flashlight. A long row of stairs hewn into the rock led deep into the darkness. “Seek, and ye shall find.”
“My God,” said Elena. “How far do the stairs go?”
“I don’t know,” responded Maclean. “My flashlight beam can’t reach that far.”
Grant turned on his light and moved it along the walls of the cave. He stopped when he spotted something carved into the rock. Grant walked over and gently brushed centuries of dust and dirt from the carving. His eyes widened when he saw it was writing. He keyed his mic. “Jeremy, Elena, are you getting this?”
“We most definitely are,” said Hayes. Even over the radio, Grant could hear the excitement in the professor’s voice. “Those look like some of the letters we found on the map. I’ll make sure Gabrielle gets a copy of this.”
Grant ran a hand over his chin. He had expected to find something to help him solve the mystery of Susan’s visitations. Instead, it looked like she had guided them to a cave that had more to do with their recently discovered map than her alien friend. He had no idea what any of this meant. All he knew was that to solve the puzzle, they had to go deeper into the mountain. His gut told him to be wary, but his desire to help Susan and Rebeca outweighed everything else.
Grant patted his friend on the shoulder. “Come on, Jim, let’s see where this tunnel leads.”
“Sure, why not? It’s not like we have anything better to do today,” Maclean responded.
“Be safe,” said Elena.
Maclean pulled his MP7 from his rucksack and flipped off the safety. “Don’t worry; we will be.”
20
Grant moved to the top of the stairs and looked down into the darkness, a chill running down his spine. He pulled out a glowstick, snapped it, and shook it until it shone brightly. Grant tossed it out as far as he could and watched it fall into the pitch-black tunnel until it disappeared.
“Damn, it looks like it goes on forever,” said Maclean.
“There’s only one way to find out,” replied Grant, taking his first step. He had to bend over to avoid hitting his head on the roof of the hand-carved tunnel.
“They weren’t too tall back then,” observed Maclean, ducking down as well.
“I read somewhere that the people in the past weren’t much taller than five feet, so it’s not surprising that we’re having to hunch down.”<
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“Gentlemen, your picture is beginning to cut out,” reported Hayes. “Make sure you take lots of pictures for us.”
“Will do,” said Maclean.
For close to ten minutes, they climbed down in silence until the tunnel came to an abrupt stop. Behind them lay a trail of glowsticks, just in case they needed to get back to the surface fast.
The two soldiers shone their flashlights down the length of another long tunnel.
“Hey, get a picture of this,” said Grant, pointing at a carving of a lizard on the wall. Underneath it were more hieroglyphs.
Maclean nodded and took two pictures.
Grant dug a piece of chalk from his jacket pocket and drew an arrow pointing back toward the stairs. He put the chalk away and continued down the tunnel. He scanned the ground looking for signs of recent digging or footprints. The last thing he wanted to do was to walk into a trap or an ambush. At the end of the tunnel, the passage branched off in two directions.
Grant looked over at his friend. “Thoughts?”
Maclean moved his light around. “They look the same to me. I say we go left for a couple of hundred meters and see what we can find.”
“Sounds good,” said Grant, marking their way back with a stick of chalk.
The tunnel opened out into an empty chamber. Several long stalactites hung down from the roof of the cave. There were carvings on the wall, but nothing of value. Maclean took a couple of minutes to record everything before placing his camera away.
“It’s going to get dark outside in the next hour or so,” said Grant, checking his watch. “Let’s see where the other end of the tunnel leads and then make our way back to the entrance, so we can send your pictures to Elena and Jeremy.”
They retraced their steps back to the junction and chose the other tunnel. Before too long, they emerged in another cavern far larger than the last one. A stone temple sat in the middle of it.
“My God,” said Maclean as he walked toward the structure, taking dozens of photographs.
Grant shook his head in disbelief. They’d discovered something that had remained hidden for many millennia. As he moved closer, Grant saw that the temple was dug down into the rock. It was at least one hundred meters in circumference, with six T-shaped pillars spread around the perimeter of the ancient building. Each pillar was twice as tall as Grant, and intricately carved. He moved slowly, reverently, around the structure, taking in every detail. Images of creatures that had died out at the end of the last ice age decorated the pillars. Grant recognized the images of giant sloths, armadillos, camels, and saber-toothed cats, along with groups of people on their knees, worshiping the heavens.
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