An officer approached. ‘Colonel, we’re ready.’
Samson pressed a button on his helmet and patched through to the reconnaissance units. ‘Send out the drones!’
On cue, a whir of electric motors buzzed to life and a horde of flying machines filled the air with tiny flashing lights. As one, they zoomed off into the pitch-dark corridors of Sanctuary, accompanied on the ground by their human masters.
‘If she’s out there,’ the officer said, ‘we’ll find her, Colonel.’
Samson rubbed at the stubble on his chin. ‘Send word to your men, ten thousand credits to the operator who finds her before S.I.L.V.E.R..’
The man failed to conceal a smirk. ‘Yes, sir, I’ll pass it on.’
‘Dismissed.’
The officer saluted and left Samson to his musings. When the woman is found, he thought, S.I.L.V.E.R. will try to take charge of her and the artefacts she holds. And he knew if he was to secure the pendant, he couldn’t allow that to happen. ‘Lieutenant.’ Samson called over a veteran Terra Force commando, a man he’d fought beside in years past. A man he knew he could trust.
‘Colonel?’
‘Handpick a hundred of the best killers in the detachment and rendezvous with the drone operators in teams of ten. If they get the opportunity to be alone with any S.I.L.V.E.R. operative, take them out.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Make it clean, no traces.’
‘Their leader?’
‘No,’ – Samson stared out into the darkness – ‘he’s mine.’
Chapter Eight
A white light pulsed bright in the dark, a tiny star in an ocean of night. A man knelt down next to it and scanned its transmitter with a sweep of a handheld device.
‘Well?’
Riley Orton stood up and faced Dresden Locke, his expression mixed. He nodded.
Locke turned to the SFSD commando at his side. ‘Go tell the colonel the waypoint beacon is confirmed. We’ve intercepted the route to the temple.’
The man disappeared back down the tunnel to inform his commander and Riley removed his helmet as Jefferson drove a Centipede up alongside them, its main beams lighting up the rocky terrain.
‘Now all we have to do is find the needle in the haystack,’ Locke said.
Riley turned to Jefferson. ‘Any news?’
The Deep Reach archaeologist shook his head. ‘Not yet.’
Riley sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. How long has it been since Sarah passed this way? he wondered. Has she even made it this far? Is she hurt somewhere, alone and lost? The thought distressed him more than he cared to admit.
Residual scans had revealed nothing, but that meant squat, Sanctuary was notorious for playing havoc with human tech. No, it was up to the old fashioned trackers to locate her trail. So far none of the reconnaissance teams had reported back and no one had seen hide nor hair of the S.I.L.V.E.R. operatives.
Riley gazed up at the ceiling of the tunnel, which sparkled in the light, and the memory of a conversation he’d had with Sarah played back through his mind’s eye.
‘Have you noticed how the ceilings of the chambers sparkle when the light catches them?’ he’d said.
Sarah craned her neck to look at the phenomenon. ‘I suppose so, yes.’
‘It’s not a result of the geological composition of the rock, but because across virtually every chamber ceiling, tunnel and cave roof a translucent material has been applied.’
‘What sort of material?’
‘The scientists aren’t sure what it is, only what it does, or did.’
‘And what’s that?’
‘Produce light; in fact they think it functioned much like our dome back at base, but instead of being localised, like the dome, it provided light for the whole of Sanctuary.
‘What, on every level?’
‘Yep, every level. Well, every level we’ve surveyed so far has the same feature, so it’s assumed it goes everywhere.’
‘That’s incredible. So gigantis had the ability to create huge swathes of plant life underground, along with simulated sunlight too.’
Riley gave her a strange look. ‘Gigantis?’
‘Sorry – yes – that’s what I, and many others who theorised and promoted the existence of the Anakim, named them, Homo gigantis. And yes, I know, everyone down here calls them giganthropsis or Anakim.’
‘Gigantis,’ he said, trying out the word again. ‘I like it, rolls off the tongue better than giganthropsis.’
‘I know, doesn’t it?’ she enthused, pleased he agreed with her own viewpoint.
‘It wasn’t just plant life, though,’ Riley continued, ‘many small animal fossils have been found down here, too, and there are still many insects and different types of algae clinging onto life in certain places we’ve surveyed.’
‘Amazing,’ Sarah had said, excited at the prospect.
Riley smiled, remembering the look of wonder on her face. Such unadulterated passion; he’d never met anyone that felt the same as he did about archaeology, it consumed her as much as it did him. Yes, perhaps he was biased by their mutual physical attraction, but it was more than that, or at least he’d thought so at the time. On his side of the – was it even a relationship? Their time together was so brief, it didn’t seem to be the appropriate term. A fling, maybe? A friendship, he decided, yes, it was a friendship first, of that I’m certain. On his side it had been more than lust, he’d felt a connection he’d never experienced before. He’d been with his fair share of women, but all paled in comparison to Sarah. That she had broken the sanctity of trust between them had bitten deep. She’d risked everything he’d helped her achieve in her short time in Sanctuary, flinging it back in his face with a metaphorical slap; and stealing his multi-function card to carry out her misdeeds had sealed the deal. Did she care so little for me? He didn’t want to believe it, but there was no other alternative. She knew what the consequences of her actions would be, for her and for him, but none of that had deterred her. She’d had her way with him one last time, a farewell lay before leaving him to suffer the consequences. Anyone else would be forgiven for hating her, for cursing the day they’d ever met, but Riley couldn’t bring himself to be consumed by such negativity – by hate. It wasn’t in his nature. He just felt a pervasive sadness that had left an invisible scar on his soul.
He thought he’d known her, understood her. And in many ways he had, but her actions had confounded him. Perhaps I never knew her at all. Perhaps the real Sarah was never unveiled and remained hidden behind a carefully tended wall of deceit. No, I can’t believe that – won’t believe that – I know genuine when I see it, hear it … taste it – he could almost feel her lips on his.
A fuzz of radio chatter brought Riley out of his reverie.
Locke put a hand to his helmet and cocked his head to listen. ‘They’ve found her.’
‘What?!’ Riley said, suddenly anxious.
Locke held up his hand as he concentrated on the garbled message. ‘No – wait, they’ve found … something. They’re calling everyone back.’
Grumbling, Jefferson manoeuvred the Centipede back round and Locke hopped onto the back, catching a lift, while Riley walked behind, his stomach clenched in fearful anticipation. And there he remained, trapped in his trancelike state, until they rejoined the masses congregating in a large chamber a mile from where they’d bridged the chasm.
The press of troops created a sea of armour before them and Jefferson parted their stationary forms by using the Centipede as a slow moving human plough. The soldiers who were shunted out of the way offered up a variety of colourful insults and curses, all of which went over Riley’s head as they worked their way to the military command group.
Locke jumped down from his ride and joined Riley, who pushed past a number of Terra Force officers surrounding the indomitable figure of Colonel Samson.
‘Do you doubt me, soldier?’ Samson was saying as they shouldered their way to the front.
The officer he wa
s addressing, a brute of a man, shook his head. ‘I only meant—’
‘I know exactly what you meant,’ Samson said, glancing in Riley’s direction. ‘Get back out there, I want no stone left unturned. Come back empty-handed again and you’ll see how far I’m willing to go.’
Suitably chastened, the reconnaissance soldier snapped to attention and left to carry out his orders, his leader’s words ringing in his ears.
Another commando appeared and passed Samson a crumpled map.
The colonel smoothed out the paper chart on a supply crate. ‘Where did they find the trail?’
The man pointed at a section of the map. ‘Two clicks south east. There were three sets of tracks and those of a multi-wheeled, SED RV.’
Samson squinted in thought. ‘So there’s no doubt, then?’
‘No, sir, it’s definitely them.’
‘How far ahead are they?’ Riley said
The commando looked up. ‘Over twenty-four hours,’ he said to Samson as if it was he who’d asked, ‘but no more than thirty-six.’
Locke peered at the map and gauged the distance with his hand. ‘They’re moving quickly.’
‘But not fast enough.’ Samson picked up his helmet and rifle.
‘Who’s on point?’ Riley asked, fearing the answer.
Samson didn’t reply as he stalked away, oblivious.
‘Colonel!’ Riley said, his voice ringing with authority. ‘Who’s on point?’
♦
Samson tensed at the challenging tone. He stopped and turned to fix the Deep Reach man with ice-cold eyes.
Riley Orton looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights as Samson moved back towards him.
‘Who found the tracks?’ Orton said, staying resolute.
Samson studied him. ‘You fear for the girl, the terrorist who murdered your friend and colleague?’
A grumble of discontent came from the assembled officers. Orton was lost for words.
Samson leaned in close and whispered, ‘You should fear, boy.’ He gave the Deep Reach team leader a final scathing look before moving back amongst his troops.
Samson’s thoughts turned to Nexus. It was S.I.L.V.E.R. who’d found the girl’s tracks. Who else? he thought bitterly. Who fucking else? Not the incompetents that are supposed to be the cream of USSB Sanctuary’s military, that’s for sure. No, it had to be Ophion. So much for my incentive; it seems I’ll have to deal with S.I.L.V.E.R. the hard way. Although, having said that, Samson knew not all the recon teams had checked in. Perhaps some of the men he’d sent to accompany them had further depleted Ophion’s ranks. He could but hope. The fewer there were, the easier it would be to prise the pendant from them, and the less chance they’d have to fight back. And Samson was nobody’s fool, despite what some might think of him, particularly Malcolm Joiner. Did the man think me so intoxicated by his drugs not to realise he’d double-cross me as soon as he was able? Samson wondered. He’d known before he’d set out that as soon as the intelligence director had what he wanted all bets were off. Samson was on his own and, when it came down it, he could trust no one, and that’s the way he liked it. He had no masters, which meant the law was as he made it.
Standing amongst his legion, Samson called for a floodlight to be turned onto him. A crate was dumped at his feet and he climbed onto it. Under the spotlight, he removed his rifle from his back-plate, chambered a round and fired off a shot.
The noise drew everyone’s attention and thousands of eyes peered at him, the sound of chatter dropping to a murmur.
Now he had their attention he surveyed the faces of those closest. Their expressions were grim, tired … weak. The curse of command was that no one ever lived up to his expectation. No one ever reached his standard. He was destined to be surrounded by the inferior.
‘I’ve been told morale is low,’ he said, his voice raised. ‘I was told you were tired. Do you know what I said when I heard this? Do you know what I felt?’
A few men shook their heads and further back someone shouted, ‘No,’ and another said, ‘Tell us!’
‘I felt sickened; and I asked the question …’
Samson paused, waiting for someone to respond.
‘What question?’ a man shouted.
‘Are these the men I’ve heard spoken of? Are these the men I’ve been told were the best of the best, the finest soldiers in the Subterranean Detachment, those that stand above all others?’ He hesitated and shook his head. ‘Perhaps I was mistaken. Perhaps it wasn’t the men of USSB Sanctuary they spoke of; perhaps it wasn’t Terra Force at all!’
An angry murmur rippled through the crowd.
‘Do you know who said you were tired, said you were weak?’
Shouts of ‘No,’ and ‘Who?’ came from the crowd.
‘No?’ Samson said, cocking an ear, ‘I can’t hear you?’
The discordant shouts of dissent were music to his ears.
‘S.I.L.V.E.R.!’ Samson slammed a fist against his chest in sudden fury. ‘Assassins – cowards – called you weak! They said they would find the target first and they’re out there now, doing your job! I say fuck S.I.L.V.E.R., I say we are Terra Force and we are masters of Sanctuary!’
The soldiers shouted their agreement.
‘Who are we?!’ he shouted.
‘Terra force!’ came the response.
‘Pathetic! I said who the fuck are we!!?’
‘Terra Force!’ shouted the soldiers. ‘Terra Force! Terra Force!! TERRA FORCE!!’
He brandished his weapon. ‘We have a terrorist to catch, are you with me!’
The men roared in response.
‘I SAID, ARE YOU WITH ME!!’
The sound swelled to a crescendo and Samson jumped down from his crate and pulled on his helmet. A group of officers fell in behind him, their masks and visors sliding over faces and weapons readied.
‘The way ahead is flat and unbroken for a solid mile,’ one of his men said.
Samson activated his visor and broke into a jog. His men followed in formation and the legion parted to let them through. Drones lifted into the air, lighting the way, and Samson upped the pace to a run. Behind, row upon row of soldiers followed him out into the dark of Sanctuary; the hunt for Sarah Morgan was on.
Chapter Nine
The steady drip drip drip of water echoed through the cave and Sarah tightened her grip on the glowing crystal that lit her way. By her side, Jason continued his endless search in the fading hope they’d find Trish alive, the power supply from his Deep Reach visor dwindling further towards nothing with each and every second that passed.
Having made a detour away from the river in order to keep moving forward, they traversed an adjoining chamber looking for a way back to the water’s edge. And as they persisted with their lost cause, Sarah tried to keep her mind occupied and came to an interesting conclusion, albeit one that failed to relieve them from the dire nature of their plight.
‘I think Trish was wrong,’ Sarah said, her voice sounding loud as it pierced the dark.
Jason frowned. ‘About what?’
‘I don’t think the pendant increased in power because we’re in Sanctuary.’
‘Then why?’
‘I think it has something to do with this blue stone.’ She gave the crystal a waggle. ‘Do you remember when we activated that tunnel through the arch?’
Jason shivered. ‘Yes, that’s when I first saw that thing … the light.’
‘I know, but before that, the tunnel of water only formed when you and Trish laid your hands on me.’
‘Did it?’ Jason said, his tone weary.
‘Yes, and after that you said your smaller stones stopped glowing. And then when we activated the bridge, you were the only one that touched me.’
‘So?’
‘So, that bridge must have taken a lot of power to work, but we didn’t feel tired afterwards and it was only you and me charging it, unless—’
‘Unless the crystal was doing the powering,’ he said.
&
nbsp; ‘Why not? If your small stones went dull after we created the tunnel through the arch, then they could have been drained of power. But as this crystal is much bigger, it enabled us to power the bridge with ease.’
Jason didn’t respond.
‘Don’t you think?’
‘We should have found the river again by now,’ he said, distracted.
Sarah knew he was worried, but that was because he thought there was something to lose. Sarah had accepted their cause was lost, she was at peace. She’d felt emotionally wrung out after the incident at the waterfall, but she knew now that was just a transition. She’d been moving from the world of hope to the world of defeat, it was bound to be a bumpy ride. ‘We’ll find it,’ she said simply.
And after another hour’s walk they did. The river had returned and now wound its way through a narrow cavern, its flow reduced to a slow meander.
Stopping to rest, they lay down and both drifted off to sleep in quick succession. However, despite her waking state being one of numb tranquillity, Sarah’s dreams were once again filled with visions of flame and terror. But unlike before, the apparition of a shimmering light chased her though dark halls, through searing lava and over the edge of a hidden cliff. As Sarah tumbled down through the dark recesses of her mind, the same voice that haunted her waking life whispered to her in a silken hiss. Why do you fear me? it said, as Sarah gazed into the creature’s shimmering light. Am I not what you desire? Succumbing to its siren call, Sarah stepped from the ledge and drifted into its deadly embrace as blackness consumed her. Frightening images bombarded her mind and she twitched on the ground, her body responding to the unfolding nightmare within.
A hand grasped her mouth and Sarah awoke to the dark with a muffled cry.
‘Shhh,’ Jason said in a hushed whisper, ‘it’s me.’
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