* * *
Aspasia’s Shadow staggered as the entire complex shook.
“Come.” He gestured to a squad of his men waiting in the tunnel. He didn’t head for the surface entrance where the enemy was coming, but rather toward the room where Lisa Duncan was still undergoing the effects of the Grail.
The edge of the bouncer had crashed into the side of the mountain, about two hundred meters from the rock spur. Turcotte could see the Blackhawks landing, commandos leaping off. The three men headed for the commandos gathered outside the opening.
* * *
Lisa Duncan blinked. She felt intoxicated, not in control of her body, her head spinning. She tried to reach out with her right hand, to feel something solid, but her arm wouldn’t move.
She blinked once more, taking comfort that she did have some control. “How do you feel?” Aspasia’s Shadow loomed over her.
Duncan tried to say something, but no sound came. She saw that he was dressed in the priest’s clothes.
“We must be—” the man began, but he was interrupted by a loud explosion reverberating through the rock itself. Aspasia’s Shadow straightened. “Take her,” he ordered.
* * *
The first wave of ten Israeli commandos rushed through the opening they had just blown and were immediately cut down by automatic-weapons fire. The second wave preceded their charge with a barrage of flash-bang grenades. They made it a little farther, killing some of their ambushers, before being pinned down. The tunnel descended slightly and curved, making every foot gained open to new fire from ahead, as Aspasia’s Shadow’s soldiers and terrorists leapfrogged backward defensively, making the Israelis pay for every yard gained.
Turcotte was like a frustrated attack dog on a leash, Yakov holding him back while those first two groups assaulted. As the third wave prepared to move past the remainder of the second, Turcotte had had enough. He shoved his way past Yakov, catching the Russian by surprise, and dashed after the last man in the third squad.
Sherev was right next to him. “Let my men do their job.”
“I can help them,” Turcotte said. “Have them follow behind me about five meters.”
He strode forward past the point man and was immediately hit with a burst of AK-74 fire, the rounds chipping the armor on his chest. He fired the MK-98, the dart taking out the gunner.
Turcotte began to move quickly down the tunnel, firing his weapon as each new target came into view. The Israelis were close behind as he cleared the way into the complex. He was hit over a dozen times with small-arms fire, but the armor stood up to the damage.
Turcotte dashed around the bend and there was no more incoming fire. He paused as the corridor branched. One tunnel straight and down, the other curved and up.
“I’m going down,” Turcotte informed Sherev of his choice. “Split your men. Half with me, half with Yakov, going up.”
“I will go with you,” Yakov argued.
Turcotte shook his head, hitting the insides of the helmet. “Go with the other force,” he ordered. He didn’t quite trust Sherev to look out for Duncan’s welfare if the Israelis came across her. It was likely they would kill everyone in their path and ask questions later. Turcotte wasn’t even sure he completely trusted the Russian, but he couldn’t go in both directions and he felt it most likely Duncan — and Aspasia’s Shadow — would be deeper in the complex.
He moved into the tunnel, a dozen commandos following.
* * *
Yakov and Sherev led their force up the curving tunnel, bodies hunched forward, expecting bullets to come lashing toward them at any moment. Yakov swung the muzzle of the MP-5 back and forth, finger resting lightly on the trigger. The tunnel opened into a large chamber, empty except for several control consoles of Airlia design. There was an opening on the far side.
“There—” Yakov pointed with the gun and they made their away across the chamber.
* * *
A door barred the way. Turcotte stepped back while an Israeli demo man placed charges on it. He staggered as the blast resounded down the tunnel, then ran forward through the opening. A large chamber full of bunk beds. And a dead end.
Turcotte cursed and spun about, pushing his way through the commandos crowding in behind him.
* * *
As soon as he stepped through the opening, Yakov knew he’d made a mistake. He was in a room about ten feet by ten square, with no other exit. The floor beneath his feet trembled. Sherev joined him and as the next Israeli tried to enter, the entire room began to rise. The commando dove in, barely escaping having his legs sliced off as the elevator rocketed upward. They passed several openings, other levels, but the elevator didn’t stop and there were no controls visible on the smooth walls. Yakov braced himself, the submachine gun aimed toward the open side. “I think we are going to the top of the mountain.”
* * *
Turcotte entered the control room to find the remaining commandos waiting by the open elevator shaft. They quickly updated him on what had happened. On the far side of the shaft two cables raced in opposite directions. One up, one down.
Turcotte didn’t hesitate. He jumped across the shaft and grasped the cable going up. The metal screeched through the palms of the suit until they locked down. He was taken along for the ride.
* * *
Yakov felt his weight lighten as the elevator slowed and then came to a halt. A large, circular cavern beckoned. Sitting in the center was a bouncer, and next to it stood a tall figure in a multicolored cloak and metal crown, a pair of soldiers carrying something draped with a thick white cloth on two poles. Lisa Duncan was held between another two men.
Yakov dashed off the elevator, the butt of the MP-5 tight in his shoulder, Sherev and the Israeli commando right behind.
“Stay where you are!” Yakov yelled.
Aspasia’s Shadow turned. He threw back his hood, revealing smooth skin, an angular face. He smiled. “Ah, the large Russian. I have heard of you. Your people are most formidable. I told Hitler not to invade, but he did not listen. Of course, he did kill many of your countrymen and destroyed his own in the process, so it worked out well in the long run.”
“Put the Ark down.” Yakov gestured with the gun.
“I don’t think so,” Aspasia’s Shadow said. He gestured and the two men began climbing up the side of the bouncer.
“Stop!” Sherev yelled.
Aspasia’s Shadow stepped up and grabbed Duncan, who seemed to be in a daze. He locked her neck in the crook of his left arm, her body between them. A blade appeared in his left, which he laid across her throat. “I’ve killed many with this. One more won’t make a difference to me, but will it to you?”
“No, it won’t,” Yakov said. He took aim.
* * *
The automated elevator reached the top, then reversed direction, heading down.
Turcotte, clinging to the return cable going up, could see the flat white bottom of the elevator coming toward him, filling the entire shaft. There wasn’t enough room in the cable channel for him to fit. As another opening approached, he pushed off against the wall, diving into it as the elevator flashed past.
He rolled to his feet and dove once more into the shaft, grabbing the left-side cable going up, locking the TASC-suit glove around it.
* * *
“Don’t be hasty,” Aspasia’s Shadow said. He nodded to the two men holding the poles for the Ark. “I’ve rigged that to blow, and that’s what you really want, isn’t it? And this.” He tapped the garments.
“I’d rather have the Ark destroyed, than in your hands,” Yakov said.
“But your friend might not.” Aspasia’s Shadow indicated Sherev. “He’s come here to get his stones back. And getting the Ark, would that not be a major coup for your country, Mister Sherev?”
“We will not let you leave.” Sherev edged to the side, the commando with him.
The three-way standoff was upset when Turcotte tumbled into the room, the TASC-suit taking the impact. He go
t to his feet and pulled the MK-98 off the sling on his back.
“Gentlemen, I hold all the cards.” Aspasia’s Shadow edged toward the Ark and the side of the bouncer, keeping Duncan between him and the others.
“Let her go.” Turcotte’s voice echoed out of the speakers on the suit’s helmet.
“The Ark.” Sherev motioned with the muzzle of his weapon. “Leave it.” A growl escaped Yakov’s lips.
Turcotte shifted slightly, seeing the Israeli and what he was doing. “No!” Turcotte exclaimed.
“We can’t let him take the Grail.” Sherev’s jaw was set.
They were both startled as Yakov fired, the round ripping through Duncan’s chest and out her back, hitting Aspasia’s Shadow, ricocheting off the thummin. Aspasia’s Shadow dropped Duncan’s body and grabbed the white veil covering the Ark, ripping it off. Immediately the two cherubim heads fired bolts, killing his own men carrying it. The Ark slammed into the floor, the cherubim still firing, a bolt killing the commando and hitting Sherev in the shoulder, spinning him about.
Stunned at Yakov’s shot, Turcotte finally reacted, sending a dart at Aspasia’s Shadow, ripping a gouge through the robes and along his side, drawing blood. The cherubim fired again, hitting Turcotte square in the chest, staggering him back. Yakov was their next target, the red eyes centering on him.
Acting out of instinct, Turcotte dove to the side, grabbing the Russian and pulling him to the floor, taking the impact of the blasts on the back of the TASC-suit.
“Rear view,” he ordered.
Aspasia’s Shadow had opened the Ark and had the Grail in his hand. He was carrying it and dragging Duncan with his other hand, blood pouring from the wound on her chest up the side of the bouncer toward the hatch.
Turcotte rolled to his knees, aiming the MK-98. He fired and the dart hit Aspasia’s Shadow in the wrist, the sheer force ripping the hand from the body. The severed hand and Duncan slid down the side of the bouncer to the floor.
As Turcotte waited for the cylinder to rotate with the next round, Aspasia’s Shadow dove over the edge of hatch, the Grail with him, leaving a trail of blood.
The hatch shut with a clang. Turcotte fired, knowing it was fruitless, the dart clanging off the side of the bouncer. A crack appeared in the ceiling of the chamber, rapidly growing wider. The cherubim were no longer firing, the light gone from the red eyes now that the Grail was out.
Turcotte ran forward and fired again as the bouncer lifted. It was out of the opening and racing away as he reached Duncan.
Turcotte looked down. Her eyes were opening and her lips were moving, but he couldn’t hear anything.
“Suit open,” Turcotte ordered. The front half swung open and he stepped out, drenched in sweat. He knelt next to Duncan and cradled her head in his arms. “Lisa.”
Her eyes shifted, locking onto his. A half-smile, interrupted by a trickle of blood, graced her lips. “I knew you’d come. I’m sorry. I’ve screwed it all up.”
Then the life went out of her eyes and her body went slack in his arms.
CHAPTER 23
Airspace
The bouncer flight to Area 51 was made in absolute silence. Duncan’s body was laid out on the floor, covered with a poncho. Yakov sat cross-legged, a bottle of vodka between his knees.
The Ark was with Sherev. Turcotte had neither the inclination nor the effort to fight the Israeli’s claim to it. Given the losses his unit had taken to try to get the Grail and Ark, Turcotte could understand the Israeli’s position.
Yakov. The Russian was on the other side of the bouncer, not meeting Turcotte’s eyes and not saying anything.
As soon as the pilots regained enough composure, they repowered the bouncer for the trip home.
Through the floor of the alien craft Turcotte could see ocean. They were somewhere over the Atlantic. He’d refused the pilot’s offer of a headset. He knew Aspasia’s Shadow was gone with the Grail — where, he would find out soon enough.
For now all he could do was try to accept the immediate reality. “My friend—” Yakov broke the silence, but Turcotte cut him off.
“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.”
“I had to try to stop him,” Yakov said. “You know that.”
“Take out your chess set,” Turcotte said.
Yakov pulled the small kit from one of his many pockets. “Open it and take out a pawn,” Turcotte continued.
Yakov did as instructed.
“That’s you,” Turcotte said. “And me. And her,” he indicated the body.
The coastline of the United States appeared and they were zooming across the countryside.
“I’m done with it,” Turcotte said. “You took her off the board, well, I’m off the board, too.”
CHAPTER 24
Mars
The first convoy of mech-robots reached the two-and-a-half-mile-high escarpment that surrounded Mons Olympus. They didn’t pause, but began tearing into the rocky Martian soil, preparing a graded path through the escarpment. The peak of the volcano towered over them on the horizon, one hundred and seventy miles directly ahead and fifteen miles higher.
Back at Cydonia, the remaining mech-robots continued taking apart the remains of the black grid system, loading the parts onto carriers which headed in the direction of Mons Olympus.
China
Two hundred Airlia stood in two rows of eighty, from the last black tube to the exit of the burial chamber. They held gleaming spears or swords in their six-fingered hands, out from their chests in a salute.
In the same singsong language that the hologram in the tunnel had spoken in, Artad asked something of Ts’ang. The Chinese man replied. Without noting the presence of the human-Airlia clones on the floor, Artad strode out of the burial cavern toward the chamber holding the guardian computer. As he passed, each pair of Airlia turned in military precision and followed until only Lexina, Coridan, and Elek were left. Belatedly, they got to their feet and followed like children at an adult function.
Pacific Ocean
The Washington and Stennis, two supercarriers, steamed in tandem toward Easter Island. Also at the center of the fleet was the Jahre Viking. Around them, the escort ships of Task Forces 78 and 79 also were underway. All were under the control of the Easter Island guardian.
Area 51
The bouncer touched down and a solemn group waited inside Hangar One. Major Quinn, Che Lu, Larry Kincaid, and Professor Mualama stood silently as Turcotte and Yakov carefully carried Duncan’s covered body out of the bouncer and onto the gurney that had been wheeled up next to the craft.
“I am most sorry,” Che Lu said, taking Turcotte’s hand in her small ones. Turcotte simply nodded, not knowing what to say. Yakov leaned close to Quinn and asked him something. Quinn whispered an answer.
“I will take her to the morgue,” Yakov said. He pushed the gurney toward the hangar doors.
“Don’t touch her.” Turcotte stepped toward the Russian.
Mualama stepped between them. “I will take care of it,” he said. “You neither,” Turcotte snapped. “Larry, you do it.”
Kincaid nodded and took hold of the gurney.
Turcotte numbly allowed Che Lu to lead him along, the others following as they went to the elevator. The trip to the Cube was made in silence. As the doors slid open, Major Quinn spoke. “We’re tracking Aspasia’s Shadow’s bouncer. It’s heading directly toward Easter Island. We—”
Turcotte raised a weary hand. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“But, sir—” Quinn shut up as Che Lu shook her head. She led him into the same quarters where the two had last spoken, shutting the door on the others.
Che Lu had not let go of his hand. “My friend—” She paused as the phone buzzed. She ignored it. “My friend, I know you feel—” The phone continued to buzz insistently. Reluctantly, Che Lu went over to it and picked it up. Turcotte took the opportunity to lie down on the bunk and close his eyes. He couldn’t shake the image of Duncan looking up at him a
s life faded from her eyes.
He remembered when he first saw her at Dulles International when she had met him on his way to the security force at Area 51. She’d given him his covert mission which had resulted in the cover being blown off Majestic-12 and Area 51. But that was quickly erased by his favorite memory, being with her in her house in Colorado. Watching the sun come up over the high plains to the east. He wondered who would tell her son she was dead, then realized it was his responsibility.
“Mike—” Che Lu gently tapped his arm. “Mike.”
Turcotte opened his eyes, his eyebrows arched in weary question. “Come with me,” Che Lu said. “Something important has happened.”
He closed his eyes. “I don’t care about Aspasia’s Shadow. About Easter Island. Mars. Qian-Ling. Any of it.”
“Please.”
Turcotte turned on his side away from her.
“Stop it!” Che Lu’s voice was like a whip. “You are not that important.” Her words stung. Turcotte swung his feet down to the ground. “What’s going on?”
“Come with me.”
Turcotte obeyed. They went down the corridor to the elevator. As it lifted, Turcotte flashed back to the elevator in Mount Sinai. What if he had chosen to go up instead of down? If he had been the first to arrive at the bouncer hangar? Could he have stopped Aspasia’s Shadow? Saved Lisa? Recovered the Grail? Should he have shot Yakov first as soon as he saw him pointing the gun?
He was jarred when the elevator came to a halt. Che Lu walked directly across the massive hangar, passing bouncers, out into the bright Nevada sunlight.
He wasn’t aware where they were going until Che Lu swung a door on a hangar open and the cold air hit his face along with a nauseating medical smell. A hulking figure filled the doorway. Yakov grabbed him by both shoulders, his hands squeezing so hard the pain was intense, startling Turcotte out of his fugue.
The Grail a5-5 Page 27