“Got it,” Lorne said.
“Looks like it leads straight to the mine,” Fishman said.
The mine itself was hard to miss, a dark hole at the base of the mountain’s steepest face. Lorne circled three times, but the scanners picked up no signs of life. “Of course, I’m not penetrating very far into the rock,” he said, “but there’s nobody on the surface, not in those buildings or in the woods or up on the slopes. I’m setting down.”
He landed the jumper directly in front of the mine opening, where its weapons could cover the slope. Its shields made it impervious to any of the Satedans’ weapons, but there was no point, Radek thought, in taking unnecessary chances. He had brought his own body armor out of pessimistic habit, and now he was glad of its weight on his back and shoulders. He crouched by the puddle jumper as the Marines fanned out to examine the buildings, and Peebles reappeared almost at once to report that the largest building had been repaired on the inside.
“It’s clean, no obvious signs that anybody’s been living there,” she reported, “but there’s a cell and various rooms and they’re all in good shape. Not broken up like the outside.”
“A reasonable precaution, if they’re afraid of the Wraith,” Radek said.
Lorne nodded. “Yeah, I know. Let’s keep assuming this is all a mistake.”
“The sensors saw nothing in the mine entrance,” Radek said. “How far in did they reach?”
“A couple hundred meters, maybe a little more. If I had somebody else with the ATA gene, I’d have them scan from the jumper, give us a heads-up if the miners start to show, but that’s Fishman, and I need him with us.” Lorne touched his radio. “Narmoth Falls, this is Lorne. We’re outside the mine, no sign of our party. We’re going in.”
“Copy that,” Kasper answered. “Ronon is on his way to the western entrance.”
Radek reached for his tablet, paged through files until he found the first set of maps for the Wild Blue. “There is a fairly large vestibule before it begins to branch.”
“Let’s check it out.” Lorne raised his voice. “All right, people. Going in.”
Fishman took point, switching on his head lamp as well as the light on his P90. The others did the same, taking up positions to follow him, their lights cutting through the empty dark. There was no sign of life here, either, just the rock-strewn floor and rough-hewn walls. Radek looked up, and his head lamp’s beam swung across more of the same dark stone. There had been tracks once, running down the middle of the passage, but the rails were missing, and half the wooden ties were broken, or buried under a loose layer of rubble. Salvaged, Radek thought, and said, “Major. Someone has taken these rails.”
“Yeah, I see.” Lorne had his P90 ready, its light sweeping steadily ahead of him. “Any idea when?”
“Not while the mine was in operation. This would be how they brought ore to the surface. So, yes, I think we can assume someone has been living here.”
“Right.”
They were almost at the end of the vestibule, and Radek could see three openings that matched his map. The air smelled odd, the rock itself giving off a faint oily odor, but there was movement in it, as though fans were working somewhere in the depths. “The right-hand opening leads to a series of short spurs that are marked as closed,” he said. “The left leads to the lower levels via the elevator, and the middle goes on another thousand meters before it branches.”
“I’d say either right or middle,” Fishman said. “The air’s stronger from the middle section.”
“Middle it is,” Lorne said and they moved forward.
The darkness closed in around them, the light at the entrance a distant, blinding dot. Radek glanced back once, and the afterimage danced across his vision until his eyes adjusted again to the flashlights. There had been electric lights in this tunnel once; the cables were still in place, but the bulbs were missing, and he wondered if that was the work of refugees or if they had been removed to save money when the mine was partially closed.
The tunnel sloped more steeply now, and for the first time the line of track appeared unbroken. Radek stooped to examine the rails, and straightened, frowning. “No rust. This has been in use recently.”
“So we’re going in the right direction,” Lorne said.
Ahead, the tunnel bent sharply to the left, and Fishman slowed, then eased toward the inside of the curve. The other Marines waved to each other, adjusting their positions to provide cover. Radek edged toward the wall himself, glancing around warily. There were more cables running along the walls here, three rows in parallel, each with its own set of empty light sockets; here and there, wires ran to the floor, ending in square boxes that looked as though they might have been power jacks. Light glinted as he turned his head, the beam of the headlight sweeping over something new and shiny, and he said, “Stop.”
He hadn’t spoken loudly, but the others froze. Lorne looked back at him. “Problem, Doc?”
“I’m not sure yet.” Radek turned his head again to focus on the spark of light. It was another wire, running from the power conduits like all the rest; it entered one of the square boxes, and another wire emerged from the box, running across the width of the tunnel. Whoever had put it there had done their best to camouflage it, but the wire lay a few centimeters above the surface, just enough to catch an unwary foot. “Yes. A tripwire, there.”
“Right,” Lorne said. “Everybody got that?” There was a murmur of agreement, and Fishman, who was closest to it, eased back a few steps. “Can you see what it’s hooked up to, Doc?”
“A moment.” Radek slung his P90 and pulled out his flashlight. He let that play along the wire, tracing it across the floor to the opposite wall, expecting to find an alarm or a packet of explosives. Instead, the wire ended in a rounded cone that was made of some dark, unreflective material. Some kind of rubber, he realized, and that meant it was an insulator, and that in turn meant that the wire was electrified. Possibly it was just meant to give a warning, but those cables and the light fixtures attached to them implied a potentially lethal power source. “The wire is electrified, I think. It will give at least a nasty shock.”
“Nice,” Peebles said, not quite under her breath.
Radek ignored her, considering his options. He needed something non-conducting to break the wire — well, he had insulated clippers in his toolkit, but he would have preferred a rubber mat to stand on, not just rely on the rubber soles of his shoes. Or something non-conducting to pull the wire out of the box at the base of the wall: that connection seemed to be a weak point. He looked around, letting his head lamp’s beam play over the debris that had accumulated against the tunnel walls. Yes, there was a length of wood, probably from a broken railroad tie, and he scooped it up, checking carefully to be sure there were no spikes or other bits of metal still attached. There were none, and he took a breath. “Ok. Stand back, please, everyone.”
“We could just step over it,” Fishman said.
“Yeah, we might be coming back this way in a hurry,” Lorne said. “Go ahead, Doc.”
Radek crouched to examine the connection, balancing his weight on the balls of his feet, then worked the edge of the stick between the wire and the wall. Sparks flew, and he pulled hard. The wire came loose, and he tapped the wire that stretched across the tunnel. Nothing happened, and he reached into his pocket for the clippers, snipped the wire before he could think too hard about it. The twang of the breaking wire was loud in the silence, but there was no shock or sparks, and he gave a sigh of relief.
“Ok. We should be good now.”
“Right,” Fishman said, and edged forward along the now-cleared wall, the other Marines following.
“Keep an eye out for any more like that,” Lorne said.
They turned the corner to find that the corridor not only divided, but there were several smaller openings in the walls to either side. Fishman and Peebles checked them quickly, and Peebles looked over her shoulder.
“Nothing, sir. Just alcoves.”
�
��Right,” Lorne began, eyeing the two branches, and suddenly a light flared inside the left-hand tunnel. Radek threw up his hand to shield his eyes, and a voice from the shadows called, “Hold it right there! Put down your weapons!”
Lorne and the Marines flattened themselves against the walls, and Radek copied them, swearing under his breath. This was what they’d been afraid of, what they’d been expecting, and knowing that they’d made contingency plans didn’t actually make it any better.
“Who’s there?” Lorne called back. “My name’s Lorne, I’m here on behalf of the Satedan Provisional Government. We’re looking for two of our people, their plane went down on the Plateau —”
“We know why you’re here.” The shadow moved forward, resolved into a man with gray hair dressed in ordinary working clothes. “You’re not welcome.”
“We’d be happy to leave,” Lorne said. “Are our people here? We’ll happily take them away.”
“We have your people. Leave — now! — and I’ll release them to you.”
“I’d like to talk to them first,” Lorne said. “I need to know that they’re all right.”
There was a scuffle in the tunnel, and then four more figures separated themselves from the group. Radek could make out Hocken, her hands on her head, and Tan next to her with her hands raised. Two men stood behind them with rifles leveled, and he saw Lorne grimace.
“We don’t want any trouble. Just let our people go, and we’ll be out of here —”
“No deal. Leave now, and they live. Otherwise…”
“He means it, Major,” Hocken called, and ducked as one of the others slapped at her.
“All right!” Lorne re-slung his P90, spread his empty hands. “All right, we’ll go. But if you don’t turn them over, we’re going to come after you.”
He took a step backward, and then another. Radek saw Peebles looking for cover — she was the one who was supposed to stay behind, the judoka who could slip through the mine tunnels like a ninja — but she was caught between alcoves, fully in the light. She took a step toward one anyway, and a shot snapped from the tunnel, ricocheting from the ceiling and into the walls.
“Hey!” Lorne yelled, grabbing his P90, and the man in the hallway spoke over him.
“Don’t even try it, lady. I see you there.”
Peebles lifted her hands and backed away, and Radek swore again. She had been spotted, and none of the others were any closer to shelter. But he was right on the edge of one, and it took only one step to slide into its shadows, clutching his P90 to his chest. He flattened himself against the stone, breathing hard, and saw Lorne’s eyes flick over him as he passed the opening. So that was the first thing accomplished, Radek thought, though I’m not exactly the ideal person for the job. But I am here, and Lorne knows I’m here, and I know what I’m supposed to do. Track Hocken and Tan.
The lights of the Atlantis party faded, and a new light appeared: the miners, Radek guessed, making sure that Lorne retreated to the entrance. Luckily the alcove was deeper than it looked, and he eased himself to the back of the space, flattening himself behind a projecting piece of stone. He could hear voices, but couldn’t quite make out the words; after a moment, the light faded again, taking the voices with it. And now we wait, he thought. They will come back, and I will follow them. Somehow.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE MINE’S western entrance had been easy enough to find, a dark cavern a third of the way up the rocky slope. Once, Ronon saw, there had been an elevated trestle that brought ore trains down from the entrance at a less precipitous angle; he could trace the line of decaying supports that stretched toward the main rail line. More tracks were visible inside the opening, curving down into the dark, and from the map it looked as though they’d be a good guide if they had to go in. He hoped they wouldn’t: fighting underground was bad enough, but when your enemy knew all the back ways and secret passages, it was close to impossible. No, if they had to go in, they had to be sneaky, find Hocken and Tan and slip back out again before anybody knew what they’d done. He glanced at his team, Wood with the smaller portable radio braced against a rock, waiting to hear from Lorne and the main team, the Satedans perched in the sun, talking quietly as though they had nothing better to do than to enjoy the weather.
The radio crackled, and Wood grabbed for headphones and mic. “Wood here. Yes, sir, I’ll put him on.”
Ronon grimaced, knowing what this had to mean, and Lorne’s voice sounded in his ear. “Ronon. No luck with Plan A. Plan B is now a go.”
“Ok.” Ronon paused, “What’s the situation?”
“It’s what we were afraid of,” Lorne answered. “There is what seems to be a community of miners living in the Wild Blue, and they’ve taking Hocken and Tan prisoner. They threatened to shoot them, so we withdrew. We’re outside the main entrance, trying to re-establish contact.”
“Ok.” That wasn’t great, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. “Did you manage to get Peebles inside?”
“Negative.” Lorne paused. “Dr. Zelenka managed to break off. As far as we know, he’s trying to get through to Hocken and Tan.”
At least we’ve got somebody on the inside, Ronon thought. Zelenka was tougher than he looked. “Any idea where they’re holding our people?”
“Negative on that as well.” Lorne sounded faintly disgusted with himself. “Hopefully Zelenka will get back to us on that. Also, we spotted some tripwires as we got deeper into the mine, likely electrified. Zelenka said they’d probably give a nasty shock.”
“Understood,” Ronon said. “We’re going in.”
“Copy that,” Lorne said. “We’ll radio as soon as we have anything from Zelenka.”
“Thanks,” Ronon said, and straightened. “All right, people. We’re heading in.”
The tracks ran along what the maps indicated was a main-level tunnel that seemed to run the full width of the mine. They made their way cautiously along the rails, which were largely intact, though there were enough stones and debris against rails and wooden crossties to suggest that no one had been that way in a while. Ronon took point, keeping his eyes out for the glint of wire or any other booby traps, but there was nothing. After a few hours, they stopped to rest and check the radio; Lorne reported that he could hear them clearly, but that there was no word from Zelenka.
“Not that I expected any,” he added. “Not until he finds Hocken, and can check in safely, and that’s going to take a while.”
If he ever did find a safe place to check in, Ronon thought. He wasn’t going to worry about contacting Zelenka until they got a lot closer to the inhabited parts of the mine. “Got it. We’ll keep in touch.” He closed the connection, and glanced around the chamber. “Move out.”
After another hour of walking, the tracks, which had been going uphill, leveled out, and Kos, who had been charting their progress on the maps copied from the map book back at the Falls, announced that they were now in the mine’s working area. They passed a series of tunnels, and then the main tunnel turned slightly south, its walls unbroken. Kos consulted her maps again, and said they were crossing into the earliest sections of the mine. Ahead, the tunnel curved again, the rock walls darker in the beams of their head lamps; there was less debris on the tracks, as though the area had been maintained more recently.
“Careful,” Ronon began, and then he saw it, the light of his head lamp sweeping across not stone or open air but a haphazard pile of rubble, piled to block the tracks. “Lights out.”
They obeyed instantly and stood for a long moment in the sudden dark, listening for movement on the other side of the barrier. There was nothing, though, neither sound nor light nor movement, and Ronon ventured to switch his own light back on, keeping the beam trained on the ground.
“Wait here.”
He eased forward, keeping his light low. Up close, it was clear that the miners had dragged a damaged hand-cart sideways across the rails, and then piled rocks and broken timbers on and around it until the passage was blocke
d. There were no lights beyond the barrier, no signs that it was being watched, and he risked letting his light play over the heaped wreckage. It didn’t completely fill the tunnel, but it would take time and effort to dismantle it enough to get past. “Is there another way around?”
Kos bent over her maps. “I’m not finding one. It looks as though this is the only passage between the new and old mines.”
Pin edged closer, and when Ronon didn’t wave him away, turned his own light on the barrier. “This — it wouldn’t be that hard to take this down,” he said, after a moment. “So why aren’t they guarding it?”
“Because there haven’t been any Wraith in years?” Bar said. She added her light to the others. “Can’t we just pull out a few pieces? Climb through that way?”
“Maybe,” Pin said, and Tec shrugged.
Ronon took a step back, considering the pile. It was lower on the left, as though the builders had run out of suitable debris before they had quite finished. If you pulled down those two big pieces of wood, that would free the chunk of rock. It would be heavy, but not impossible to lever free… And then he saw it, just a flick of light in the beam of his head lamp, a glint of wire among the debris. “Hold it.”
The others froze, and Ronon moved closer, aiming his light into the tangle. It was a wire, all right, rusted and blackened but held taut between the wall and something in the debris. He let the light follow the wire all the way to the tunnel wall, to see a small ceramic knob set into the stone. “Trip wire.”
Someone swore, and Pin edged forward. “Electrified?”
“Yeah.” Ronon turned his attention to the other end of the wire. “Yeah, it looks like there’s a battery here. Behind that piece of rock.”
“I see it,” Pin said. “I wonder — if I were building this, I’d design it to set off an alarm somewhere. That way, if the Wraith came through, you’d have plenty of advance warning.”
Ronon nodded. “Can you disable it without setting off the alarm?”
“Maybe?” Pin shook his head. “I’ll give it a try.”
STARGATE ATLANTIS: The Wild Blue (SGX-05) Page 9