Temple of Fire

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Temple of Fire Page 6

by Christopher Forrest


  Shooter crawled to the edge of the fissure as the tremor subsided. The crack in the ground was five feet wide. The sharpshooter peered into the dark chasm and saw her leader hanging on a ledge five feet down.

  “It’s a bit hot down here!” Hawkeye yelled. “Any help would be greatly appreciated!”

  Bullets fired from atop the observatory tore through the air and bit into the limestone street around the team.

  “Taking enemy fire!” Shooter cried. “Christian, get over here and throw Hawkeye a line!”

  Shooter switched from her Calico semi-automatic to a LSAT machine gun, sending a barrage of 5.56 mm shells at the observatory’s pinnacle. Chunks of stone from the top tier of the pyramid flew in every direction as the machine gun rounds relentlessly blasted the circular stones Shooter had seen only moments earlier.

  Madison was on his stomach, lowering a sturdy nylon rope to Hawkeye.

  More bullets streaked from the top of the observatory.

  “Pull, Christian!” Shooter barked.

  “I’m trying!” Madison said. “I’m trying!”

  Inside the fissure, Hawkeye was pulling on the white nylon while trying to walk himself up the chasm, using his thick-soled boots to gain traction for each small step upwards.

  “Almost there!” he said.

  A tongue of flame licked upwards three feet from Hawkeye’s body.

  Instinctively, Shooter stepped back and grabbed a concussion grenade from her belt. Pulling the pin, she lobbed the grenade over her head in a thirty-degree arc. It barely cleared the roof of the observatory.

  Grunting, Hawkeye clambered out of the fissure with Madison’s help. His upper torso and right leg were back on solid ground.

  “Hold him tight, Christian!” Shooter said. “And both of you — cover your heads!”

  The top of the observatory exploded into a thousand fragments, stones raining down on the team. One of the round circular stones landed on the back of Hawkeye’s right leg.

  “Owww!” Hawkeye wailed. “Son of a bitch!”

  The dead body of a Chinese Dragon was catapulted through the air like a circus performer and fell to the ground with a muffled thud. The gunfire ceased, as well as the steady pelting of stones and rocks from above.

  Hawkeye attempted to stand, but fell to the ground like a scarecrow without bracing.

  “I can’t walk,” he said.

  Shooter and Madison grabbed Hawkeye, each taking an arm, and dragged him to a small, dark alcove in a nearby temple.

  Shooter cut open a section of Hawkeye’s combat suit, exposing the injury to his leg.

  “Your leg’s been crushed, my friend,” she said.

  “I’m guessing he’s got a broken femur,” Madison said. “Probably a hairline fracture since I don’t see any swelling.”

  “Are you there, Ops?” Hawkeye said.

  A loud explosion rocked the ground.

  Shooter ventured from the alcove and looked into the sky.

  “It came from the temple in the center of the city,” she said. “Looks like that’s where the action is.”

  “They don’t pay us enough,” Hawkeye said. “Remind me to take that up with Mrs. Caine.”

  Brick Dwellings

  U.S. Petroleum Blast Crater

  Will Langhorne froze in his tracks. A bald-headed man, six-foot-six, was walking in his direction. He strode confidently, his face expressionless. He was wearing a black leather suit that resembled the wet suit of a skin diver. Yellow and green lights blinked on the man’s chest and around his waist.

  “Whaddya want?” Langhorne called.

  There was no reply.

  Langhorne drew a Colt .45 from his holster and fired three rounds at the approaching figure.

  The man in the tight black suit quickened his pace. Langhorne’s aim had been accurate, but the bullets had simply ricocheted off the menacing giant now ten yards away. Each impact point had momentarily turned into a blur, as if the man were surrounded by a force field.

  Will stumbled backwards, fell, and tried to crawfish away from the silent hulk.

  The man leaned down and seized Langhorne by the shirt and, with one hand, lifted him two feet off the ground.

  Will’s mouth hung open as he gazed at the man’s countenance, just inches from his own. His enemy’s features were Chinese, but the irises of his eyes had no color.

  “What do you want?” asked a panicked Will Langhorne. “Just tell me, for God’s sake! I’ll do anything you want.”

  The man made no reply as he threw Langhorne over his shoulder and began walking across what had been a plaza thousands of years before.

  On the other side of the plaza, the man carried Will down twelve stone steps. They were beneath an ornate temple with half-moons carved into the walls of an underground chamber.

  Titan Six

  The Royal Palace

  Tank, Quiz, and Gator stood before one of the larger stone buildings in the city.

  “This was probably the Royal Palace,” said Quiz. “It’s quite a bit more majestic than anything else around here. I’d estimate that fifty steps rise up to the stone porch. I count ten columns supporting the roof. When these stones were polished and painted thousands of years ago, this place must have been very impressive.”

  Quiz took out his Digi-Palm, a small computer slightly bigger than a smart-phone. It also had sensor capabilities. “I’m getting a readout from the carbon dating chamber back in the EFV. I also want to scan the glyphs and other symbols to see if they correspond to any known writing in the Titan data banks.”

  “Gator,” said Tank, “you take the right, I’ll take the left. I heard gunfire a few minutes ago. Let’s scout the area and make sure we’re safe while Quiz does his thing.”

  Gator nodded. He carried his SAW, a machine gun that could issue thunder when fired.

  * * *

  Quiz looked at the carbon dating readings on his Digi-Palm. The culture that had built the city had thrived around 30,000 B.C. What was astounding was that most anthropologists believed that civilizations in the Americas at this time were tribes of agrarian farmers who also domesticated animals. No one had envisioned an advanced civilization that rivaled the Egyptians in their scientific and mathematical skills.

  The civilization had become a progenitor culture that gave rise to the great civilizations of Egypt, Central and South America, the Middle East, and Asia.

  It was not surprising, therefore, when Quiz’s mini-computer was able to find translations for many of the hieroglyphs he had recorded from the mysterious, long-abandoned structures all about him. Many of the writings, glyphs, and pictograms had found their way into other cultures on various continents centuries later.

  The people that had once flourished in what was now the western United States had called themselves the Nizia. The Royal Palace had been occupied by many kings and queens. One of the last royal couples had been King Enhaht and Queen Qu-Lo.

  Quiz began receiving strange energy readings on his Digi-Palm.

  * You need to follow that energy signature

  immediately. *

  I can’t just wander off, Dante. Gator and Tank would kill me. And Mrs. Caine would have my head on a platter.

  * If you don’t proceed due east now, the Chinese will discover the energy signature first. You only have a few minutes. *

  ”Gator, Tank — do you read?” Quiz said.

  There was no reply.

  * They’re not going to answer. They’re in trouble. *

  “Ops Center, do you read?”

  Again, there was no reply.

  * The Alamarinta will not answer either. *

  Quiz began walking quickly to the east. Dante was

  frequently annoying — but usually right.

  Ops Center

  Aboard the Alamiranta

  “I’ve lost Titan Six,” said Touchdown.

  “How can that be?” asked Caine. “We’ve got a clear feed from the satellite.”

  “We’re awfully cl
ose to the eye-wall of Beatrice,” Touchdown replied. “Lots of thunderstorms. The electrical interference is playing havoc with the instruments.”

  The entire ship was leaning strongly to port as the Alamiranta continued to engage in its sharp turn away from the menacing typhoon. To steady herself, Caine had to grip a chrome handrail that ran around the entire Center above the individual stations.

  “Can’t you boost your signal?” asked Caine.

  “We’ve taken a lot of systems offline, ma’am,” Touchdown replied. “We’re trying to keep electronic pulses to a minimum, to the extent we can do so, so as not to detonate the torpedo.”

  “Very well,” Caine said with pronounced frustration. “Keep listening for Titan Six.”

  Dragons of the Night

  Temple of the Moon

  Will Langhorne stared at the seven commandos in the chamber below the once-glorious Nizian Temple of the Moon. His abductor, the muscular baldheaded man, sat against a stone wall, completely silent.

  The commander of the Chinese forces stood before Langhorne, hands on her hips.

  “You could have asked politely and I would have come,” Langhorne said glibly.

  “Lieutenant Cho tends to take commands very literally,” said the commander. “I asked him to bring you here as soon as possible. That’s exactly what he did.”

  Commander Saturo Aiko was a slim Asian with short black hair, dark eyes, and a white scar running up her left cheek. Her beauty was apparent, but it also had an unforgiving quality about it. Her features rarely betrayed humor or a smile.

  “Is Lieutenant Cho even human?” asked Langhorne.

  Aiko nodded. “Quite human. He had biological parents like anyone else. He has been modified, however.”

  “Modified?”

  “He has received synthetic implants. His eyes are artificial and can see far more accurately than yours or mine. His heart is also artificial, giving him superior endurance and strength. His brain is connected to sensors beneath his skin, so that he can sense the proximity of life forms and electronic signals. He also has a separate set of sensors that can generate a force field around his body.”

  “A cyborg,” said Langhorne.

  “Yes,” said Aiko. “A prototype, but very efficient. Many others are being created for our army.”

  Langhorne paused, looking at both Cho and Aiko. “So why did you ask the Incredible Hulk over there to fetch me, Commander?”

  Aiko didn’t smile at Langhorne’s sarcasm.

  “Because,” she said, “I require your aid.”

  “I magnanimously tipped off Li Soo Yang,” he said, shrugging innocently. “I’m now a humble treasure hunter. I don’t have a dog in this fight.” Smiling, he bowed from the waist to indicate his service to the Chinese, waving his hand in a mock flourish.

  “On the contrary,” Aiko said. “You will do whatever we ask until our mission here is completed. You will help us find the Americans.”

  “To what purpose?”

  “So that we may kill them. Except for the operative named Hawkeye. He is returning to our base in China.”

  “And how will I accomplish this? Why not just have Robo-Cho round up these people?”

  “You can minimize our casualties if we can position our forces correctly.”

  “So I’m the bait,” said Langhorne.

  “Yes,” said Aiko. “Cooperate fully, and we will show you where your treasure can be found. It’s everywhere — if you know where to look.”

  Langhorne nodded. If he were going to be a mercenary, he would make sure that he would be richly compensated.

  Titan Six

  Temple of Ashtak

  “Do you read, Titan Six?” asked Touchdown.

  “We’re here,” said Hawkeye. “I have a broken leg. Hairline fracture, according to Christian.”

  “Releasing calcium and phosphorous into your bloodstream,” Touchdown said. “Also some anti-inflammatory agents to prevent swelling. A few endorphins for the pain.”

  “I’m wrapping the leg to provide the muscles with support,” said Madison.

  Hawkeye stood tentatively and took several deep breaths. “It’s a little sore, but nothing I can’t handle. We’re moving on to the temple.”

  “We’ve lost contact with Gator and Tank,” said Touchdown. “I believe they’re beneath a temple in the southern half of the crater.”

  “We have to go after them!” said Hawkeye.

  “Negative,” said Caine. “I require intel on that crater ASAP. Our readings indicate that it might be destabilizing very quickly, but I need some firsthand info. Tank and Gator know how to take care of themselves. Their life signs are stable.”

  “Very well,” said Hawkeye with exasperation. “You’re the boss.”

  “This is Quiz breaking in. I’m at the Temple of the High Priest. Name was Ixmilan, if anyone’s interested. These people called themselves the Nizia, and this city was called Raj Kithune. Hawkeye, you’re headed for the Temple of Kalpur-Az. He was the sun god.”

  “How did you get separated from Gator and Tank?” asked Caine.

  “They were scouting our position. I began to pick up a strange energy reading and pursued it.”

  “You should have waited,” said Mrs. Caine sternly.

  “I found the source of the energy flux,” said Quiz. “Believe me, you wouldn’t want the Chinese to find it.”

  “Return to the EFV,” Caine ordered.

  “Commandoes approaching you!” Touchdown warned.

  The sound of gunfire filled the Ops Center.

  Aft Cargo Hold 6

  Aboard the Alamiranta

  Pyro had disconnected a dozen wires inside the torpedo. The ship had completed its turn, leaving the cargo hold level once again.

  Pyro deftly placed his right hand on a yellow wire leading to one of the torpedo’s many batteries. Tugging gently, he disconnected it from the power source.

  “Shit!” he cried.

  “What happened?” asked a member of the bomb squad.

  “Look at the readout,” said Pyro grimly.

  3:29

  3:28

  3:27

  Three hours and twenty-seven minutes.

  “We just lost more time,” Pyro said.

  Caine broke in from the Ops Center.

  “Pyro, why can’t we just push the damn thing gently into the sea?” Caine asked. “It doesn’t sound like we’re going to be able to disarm it.”

  “It’s way too unstable, ma’am. The gyroscopes inside the torpedo would almost surely detonate it immediately.”

  “Do your best,” said Caine. “Let me know if the readout loses any more time.”

  “If it loses too much time,” said Pyro, “the whole ship may know about it simultaneously.”

  Caine made no reply.

  Quiz and Dante

  Temple of the High Priest

  Quiz turned around and began firing at the three Dragons that had darkened the entrance to the temple. Two fell, but a third charged the young Titan member.

  Quiz put his right hand behind his back.

  The commando was just ten feet away.

  Quiz steadied his nerves, his right arm tensing, muscles taut.

  Five feet.

  Quiz brought his right arm from behind his back. His hand was holding a pearl-handled knife with a seven-inch blade.

  Two feet.

  At the very last moment, Quiz thrust the blade into the Dragon’s belly. His fingers tightened on the pearl handle as he twisted it with determination, driving it deeper into the Dragon’s stomach.

  The commando exhaled a long, rancid breath as Quiz pulled the knife back, drops of blood beading on the blade.

  The Dragon’s eyes were still open, filled with terror, as he stammered backwards and fell to the floor.

  Quiz wiped the blade clean, sheathed it, and then scrubbed the blood from his right hand.

 

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