The Sam Reilly Collection

by Christopher Cartwright

  “Yes, but what do they mean?”

  “Beats me. I’m just translating.”

  “18,000 – Could we be talking somewhere around 18,000 years ago?”

  “No. I don’t even know if these are dates. Even if I were sure they were dates, it wouldn’t help us because it’s highly unlikely the Atlanteans used a measurement of time that exactly matches ours. And even then, if they did, we still don’t know that their math matches ours.”

  “I thought math was supposed to be the one universal constant?”

  “In principle it is. But there are a number of ways of doing things, and just because we liked the concept of base ten, doesn’t mean that other cultures did too. For example, the Mayans used base twelve, while numerous tribes around the world used base eight because they counted the spaces between their fingers to make the number eight, instead of the fingers.”

  “So, you’re telling me we just have some random numbers that could mean anything, but most likely represent some time or event in the past?”

  “That’s pretty much the gist of it.” Sam looked helpful and then said, “Or even the future.”

  Tom stared at the ceiling again, without any recognition in any of it. “I just got an idea,” he said, handing Sam a piece of paper. “Write those numbers down for me. And the number at the end of the final circle. I’ll put them into your tablet while you decipher the rest. Maybe it can make the translation somehow, or at least make the reference to significant events in history?”

  Sam handed him the numbers and Tom carefully typed them into the tablet and then ran a search for any similarities, order, or obvious codes. When that came up with nothing, he then ran the dates by significant archeological events.

  Again, it came up with nothing.

  It was a long shot, he knew. After all, the numbers were unlikely to relate to any dates based on current calendar dating systems. Then he realized how he could combine the tests to achieve a possible answer.

  He assigned a random number against each date and then compared the difference between each of them with any known archeological events recorded. Big events, was what he was after, specifically. This time, the computer gave him a simple list.

  He had no way of telling the time between each event on its own, but now he could compare them all and the computer could determine a probable dating of the numbers they had found.

  Tom stared at the simple answers.

  His face turned pale, and his hands sweaty.

  “What is it?”

  “The numbers 18007 appears to match up with the date Atlantis sunk and more importantly, the end of the last Ice Age. Prior to that, the Atlantean year 40200 relates to the approximate start of the Ice Age. And 120040, seems pretty close to when the dinosaurs disappeared. Each time it was activated, an Ice Age either started or ceased. Either way, it didn’t work out so crash hot for the planet’s inhabitants.”

  “You mean, this thing’s wiping the slate clean? It’s removing all creatures who have not succeeded in evolving to the next level?”

  “That’s what it looks like to me, and it gets worse.”

  “Really. How much worse can it get?”

  Tom sighed. “So I put that final date into the computer…”

  “And?”

  “It says we have three weeks until it’s activated again.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Sam looked around the rest of the vast room in frustration.

  “None of this helps us find Atlantis so we can rescue Billie.”

  “Don’t forget working out how to stop Atlantis from activating and killing us all!” Tom reminded him.

  “Yeah, there’s that too.”

  “Okay, so let’s break this down. Billie tells me that this isn’t the first time you investigated the Master Builders. So, what’s your process?”

  Sam began to list them. “Okay, I need to scan as many of these images onto the computer as we can and let the computer identify any references to the location of Atlantis. They only recently left, which means they found what they were looking for. So they either got really lucky, or it’s obvious.”

  “Okay, I’ll get started.”

  Within ten minutes Tom called out to him.

  “Look at that!”

  The ceiling was destroyed. Someone had intentionally blown up that section of the roof. Around a dozen circular ‘files” were lost.

  “There must have been something important there, which whoever has Billie doesn’t want us to find out.”

  “Now what the hell do we do?”

  “We need to keep looking. Billie’s smarter than the two of us put together. She knows that this is the only lead we have on Atlantis, so she wouldn’t risk losing us by leaving without some way of letting us follow.”

  It was more than two hours before they found the next clue.

  Sam stared at the ceiling. His neck was starting to ache from the hours of looking upwards. Inside an area of blank circles, a new text had been written. Instead of being chiseled into the ceiling like the others, it was written with a cheap fluorescent permanent marker.

  It was written in the language of the Master Builders.

  Dear Sam,

  You will find answers at these coordinates. There is another temple of Atlantis.

  I will try to stall them as long as I can.

  At the end of the note, she had left a set of GPS coordinates.

  “Okay, it’s time to go,” Sam said.

  “Where?”

  Sam put the coordinates into his computer and replied, “Siberia.”

  “What’s in Siberia?”

  “According to Billie, Atlantis.”

  “It’s in Siberia. How did Billie work that out from the notes we found in the sunken pyramid in the Gulf of Mexico?”

  “How the hell should I know? But she’s left the GPS coordinates, so we better head off so we can beat them to it.”

  Sam turned to head for the entrance of the cavern, but something stopped him. He looked at the pile of orichalcum. A fortune left in the ancient library. It would be worthless in a few weeks if he couldn’t solve the puzzle.

  Below them, the ground shook with the vibrations of a sound coming from outside.

  “Can you hear that?” Sam asked.

  “Sounds like the roar of thunder.”

  Sam looked to the edge of the opening, where the Sherpas had started to scatter.

  “Do you think it’s an avalanche?” Tom suggested.

  Sam listened more intensely to the sound for a moment. “That’s crazy. It doesn’t sound anything like an avalanche. Those are clearly helicopter rotors. Given our high altitude, I’d say they come from a pair of B3 Eurocopters.”

  “Which means someone’s followed us!”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Andrew Brandt watched the two Sherpas, the mountain goats of the Himalayas, scatter, leaving their equipment where they were on the mountain side.

  “I don’t see them,” he said to the pilot.

  “Keep looking. Those Sherpas weren’t going for a climbing holiday on their own,” Dmitri replied. “Those were the two I left looking after Sam Reilly. They must have entered the temple.”

  The two men scanned the mountain.

  “There!” Dmitri said. “Look at that overhanging rock. It must have an opening – there are footprints in the snow leading into it.”

  “If they’ve gone in, they must come back out. Just hover here for a few minutes.”

  “I can’t stay long at this altitude,” Dmitri said.

  “All right. We can’t wait all day. Everyone off. We’re going in to get them.”

  One by one, they dropped off the helicopter’s skids while the pilot hovered, and onto the thick snow on the mountain three feet below them, followed by the soldiers in the second helicopter. He wanted to take no chances. He’d heard of Sam and his friend’s reputation as excellent fighters. There was no way he wanted this to be a fair fight. And for that, he needed to outnumber them
.

  He looked at the leader of his commando team. “Aiden. Take three men and get me a reconnaissance of that entry. If you find resistance, take cover and hold your position.”

  “Understood.”

  The three-man team quietly entered the secret opening to the Atlantean temple.

  Minutes later the opening turned to rubble along with the sound of a loud explosion. Andrew jammed his ice axe into the mountainside and took cover in the snow. Twenty feet away, the two helicopters, concerned about avalanches, quickly backed away from the face of the mountain.

  Snow fell, but no avalanche followed.

  Seconds later, Andrew heard the sound of machine gun fire. But he couldn’t tell whether it was coming from his own commandos or someone else.

  Aiden returned, blood dripping from the back of his head and burns to his face.

  “They fucking have the place booby-trapped!” Aiden swore.

  “We need to storm that temple. What have we got when we enter?”

  “You have a hole that is completely dark. A cavern that echoes, which suggests that it’s quite large. I didn’t see them, but they must have seen us, because they killed Frankie and Mitchell. Then the next thing I know they’re using an AK47 on me, probably stolen from my own men!”

  “What do you need to extract them?”

  “Alive?”

  “Yes. At least one of them. Preferably Sam Reilly, but his friend must know something.”

  “We’d need a miracle. We can do it, but it’s going to cost us in men.”

  Andrew looked at his men, checking their weapons. “Okay, do it.”

  One of his soldiers passed him a cell phone. He really hated the damn technology.

  “Tell them I’m busy.”

  “I think you’re gonna want to take this one boss. He says that he has Dr. Billie Swan.”

  Andrew looked at his commando. The man was serious. Andrew reached out and snatched the cell phone.

  “Andrew speaking.”

  “Morning, boss.”

  “I thought you were dead. Actually, when you lost the girl, and then stopped answering my calls, I kind of hoped you were dead, for your sake.”

  “Let’s just say I’ve been busy. But all will be forgiven once you hear what I have for you.”

  “What have you got for me?”

  “Dr. Billie Swan. And half of the Code to Atlantis.”

  “Christ. I thought she’d deciphered the damn thing. What the hell good is half of the code?”

  “None, but she’s about to retrieve the second half. It was apparently broken up into two separate codes, and then stored in two Atlantean temples to protect it.”

  “Do you know where the second one is?”

  “Congo. Somewhere in the Heart of Darkness.”

  Andrew signaled to one of his soldiers for a pen and paper. “Do you know where exactly?”

  “No, but I’m still part of the team. I’ll let you know once they’ve found it.”

  “Good. Let them solve the mysteries of the second Atlantean temple. Better they risk their lives than me. Once you have answers, send me your coordinates, and we’ll bring a retrieval team in to get the rest of the code.”

  Andrew passed the cell phone back, a giant smile on his sinister face.

  “What you smiling at?” Aiden said.

  “Because we no longer have any reason to keep Sam Reilly and his companion alive.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Sam quickly studied the back of the Atlantean temple.

  All the tunnels seemed to have reached an end. And there was little that either of them could do to maintain their position against the significantly more powerful team of mercenaries after them.

  Turning to examine the final cavern, Sam said, “We know Billie was here before us. There was no one else on the face of the mountain when we climbed it. We must have only just missed her?”

  Tom pulled his Glock out and prepared to fire at anyone who came through the cavern. “Possibly, but sorry to say this pal, I don’t think she’s coming back to save our asses.”

  “No, it’s not that. She must have been here in the last day or two. And yet, we didn’t see her or whoever has her leave, which means…”

  Tom smiled. Realization dawning on him. “The people outside aren’t the ones who took her?”

  “The thought’s crossed my mind, but I don’t think so. I think she beat us all to it, and that whoever’s outside is also searching for Atlantis. And if they didn’t find Billie, that means there’s definitely another exit!”

  “Of course!” Tom Said “When I read Plato’s ancient Critias Dialogue, it noted that the Atlanteans built rings within rings of defensive structures so that retreat was possible. It was one of the reasons Billie believed that Amsterdam was related to the descendants of Atlantis. We know that’s not true now, but one thing’s for certain – if the survivors of Atlantis built this place, as an archive to their history, then they must have built in an escape tunnel.”

  Several shots raked the walls of the cavern behind them.

  Sam looked up to see that the first soldiers were entering the far side of the cave. “That’s great. But if you’re right, we’d better find it soon, because whoever the hell’s trying to come in here, they don’t sound like they’re friendly.”

  Sam started to quickly examine the walls, pressing rocks, pulling on things, and then he saw it. A slight change in the sand. “Look at that. It’s as though someone has recently dragged something along the sand. Help me dig this up.”

  Tom dug his climbing pick into the sand and caught something solid. He struck it again, and again. On the third attempt, the head of his climbing pick caught. Using the back of the handle, he was able to lever the entire rock structure out, and pull it to the side of the cavern.

  Revealing a black abyss.

  The air that now flowed upwards towards them was warm.

  “What do you think?”

  “It’s a priest hole.”

  “What the hell’s a priest hole?”

  “An escape route, built into the original design of the cave system.”

  A small metallic device on tractor wheels slowly entered the room. Like a sinister robot, the machine drove toward them.

  “What’s that?”

  “Some sort of Remote Controlled Vehicle. They’re finding exactly where we’re hiding!”

  Sam looked down the hole. It went straight down. A strong draft flowed from below when he opened it, suggesting that it opened to the outside world, somewhere.

  “What do you think?”

  “I think it’s just as likely to drop us off the cliff somewhere. Maybe an ancient privy?”

  The distinct sound of several grenades being thrown into the cavern stopped their conversation.

  “I’d say it’s our best chance,” Sam said.

  And then dropped – into the darkness below.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Congo Rainforest – Two Weeks Remaining

  The Andre Sephora was a 120-foot custom built Millennium Superyacht. Powered by three Vericor TF50 gas turbines, its triple Rolls-Royce Kamewa water jets allowed the luxurious vessel to cruise at sustained speeds of up to 60 knots along the Congo River. It wasn’t the fastest superyacht in existence, but it was by far the quickest equipped with military grade armor plating and an automated defense system, operating four separate Gatling guns and one antiaircraft rocket launcher.

  The Congo River is the second largest river in the world after the Amazon. Inhabited by humans for more than fifty thousand years, the Congo Basin spans across six countries—Cameroon, Central African Republic, Democratic Republic of the Congo, Republic of the Congo, Equatorial Guinea and Gabon. The Congo, a place renowned for its brutal and violent past – the days of the Arab slave and ivory trade, its long history of tribal warfare, and its present – the ethnic violence and massacres of today. The Congo has suffered horribly throughout its history, and due to generations of foreign exploitation,
political instability, corruption and civil war, not to mention a prevalence of crocodiles, hippos, waterfalls and huge rapids, the river seems to have been given a wide berth by Westerners. Subsequently, few archeological expeditions have ever ventured deep into its rainforest.

  The entire Congo basin is populated by Bantu peoples, divided into several hundred ethnic or tribal groups. Bantu expansion is estimated to have reached the Middle Congo by about 500 BC, and the Upper Congo by the beginning of the Common Era. Remnants of the aboriginal population displaced by the Bantu migration remain in the remote forest areas of the Congo basin. The oldest of all of these are the pygmies, the most ancient hunter gatherers of the Congo rainforest. No one knows for certain how many remain, as their ancient way of life allows them to survive in otherwise inaccessible areas of the remote jungle. This has permitted many of their tribes to live in secret, away from westernized ideologies.

  It was the pygmies, the most ancient of these hunter gathers, who most interested Dr. Billie Swan. Based on the markings on the roof of the Tibetan Atlantean temple, one such group of pygmies held the key to the remaining half of the code to Atlantis.

  The Mankan pygmies were said to be the most ancient, ruthless, and powerful in all of Africa, having inhabited the region for more than fifty thousand years. If anyone witnessed the coming of the people of Atlantis eleven thousand years ago, it would have been them.

  Made inaccessible by thick rainforest and deep swamps, vast areas of the Congo remain unexplored, with some areas so remote that no maps exist. As a result, the area has been a breeding ground for myth and superstition, with local pygmy tribes telling of a mysterious tribe called the Mankan. Isolation from the outside world was so important to the Mankan people, that legend had it if anyone was caught finding them, they would be killed so as not to reveal their home.

  The only problem being, with the exception of the notes within the Atlantean temple, there were no records of the tribe ever existing. Which meant, either they no longer survived, or lived in an area of the Congo Rainforest so remote and in such small numbers, that no Westerner had ever laid eyes on them.