Hawkeye twisted his body and motioned for two Dragons to pull on the sagging steel cable.
“Firmly,” Hawkeye told Aiko, “but not hard enough to dislodge it.”
The Dragons did as they were ordered. The line held.
“Okay,” Hawkeye said, standing. “We need some tension on the line.” He walked to the far side of the chamber, where the cable had been threaded through a winch. “Have your men tighten it very slowly,” he told Aiko.
A whirring motor sounded as the workers engaged the winch, slowly retracting slack in the line.
“That’s it!” called Tank. “It’s tight enough!”
“The floor is getting awfully damn hot,” Madison said, wiping perspiration from his brow. “We need to do this immediately. I think this place is going to erupt in new flames any minute now.”
Quiz approached the narrow opening to the fiery cavern. He was wearing a leather-and-chain harness. Tank attached the harness to a motorized pulley wheel slotted firmly on top of the cable.
Carefully, Hawkeye and Gator lowered Quiz over the ledge. The weight of Quiz’s body pulled the harness down with a hard jolt as he dangled in the air, swinging left to right. Me-Sung then handed him the cylindrical nuke.
“You’ve got a fifteen yard clearance from the shit beneath you,” Hawkeye told him. “Okay now. Steady as she goes.”
Quiz pressed a button, causing the pulley wheel to roll slowly along the static line. He was directly above a natural cauldron of burning oil.
“He’s on his own now,” said Shooter.
Quiz moved farther into the chamber as the entire cavern began to shake.
Titan Six
Temple of Kalpur-az
Quiz advanced farther along the static line. The tremor abated, but it left his harness swinging in an elliptical arc as wisps of smoke drifted through the cavern. He looked above him, watching the pulley wheel pivoting left and right. Too much motion either way might dislodge the wheel from the static line altogether.
Balls of colored gas erupted into flames all around him. A pool of black oil bubbled like a demonic brew simmering deep in the recesses of hell. Bright orange lava flows twisted in several different directions, reminding Quiz of malleable taffy that’s pulled in a candy store window.
He clutched the thermonuclear device closer to his chest.
Feeling at home, Dante?
* This is pretty much as I imagined hell when I wrote the Divine Comedy. That having been said, I’d prefer that the cavern was more like the bottom circle of hell. *
Ice and cold?
* Precisely. The heat doesn’t agree with me. Next time, I’d prefer something a bit more tropical. *
I’ll see if it can be arranged. And enough with the humor. You’re distracting me.
* Just trying to keep your nerves steady. I’ll help you with the placement of the bomb. *
Thanks. I’m more worried about the Chinese throwing us all in here once we’ve made the drop.
* Some of them are genuinely concerned about the situation and are sincere in their assistance. Others, however, would like nothing better than to make your fears come true. They see no reason to stand on honor once the catastrophe is averted. *
Can we trust Aiko to keep them in line?
* Unknown at this point. She and Me-Sung are both conflicted. Logically, Aiko’s will should carry the day. *
I’m not sure that logic can be applied to an agenda that seeks global domination.
* A valid point. Now then — look below you. I think we’re nearing the drop point. *
Quiz tilted his head to the side. A yawning black hole was situated in the center of a fiery, almost circular rock ten feet in diameter. Black smoke drifted up, encircling the harness. Small explosions sounded every few seconds as new gas pockets were ignited or a new wave of magma appeared. The structural integrity of the chamber was obviously weakening as rocks tumbled from the cavern walls.
Quiz instinctively lowered the temperature in his helmet.
* That hole is where U.S. Petroleum was drilling. You need to get the device deep enough to prevent a mushroom cloud from reaching the upper atmosphere. The detonation must resemble the below-ground nuclear tests of the Cold War. That will seal the crater and also keep any dust and fallout from spreading beyond a few miles’ radius. *
If I drop the device into that hole, it might fall three miles down. That’s too deep. I had intended to drop it in the shaft between the two lava flows up ahead.
* Not a good idea. The shaft is far too shallow. It will result in a blast as devastating as the one Madison has predicted. The drilling hole, on the other hand, goes down only one mile since the U.S. Petroleum explosion. That is where the widest, thickest rock formations are located. The rocks down there are very diverse in composition, especially when it comes to heavy metals. Recall that this area was a favorite spot to mine for silver and gold in the nineteenth century. The rocks — limestone, granite, and feldspars — will fuse nicely with the metals — don’t forget about copper and aluminum, too — creating a barrier that will cauterize this upwelling of geological activity. *
The drilling hole is small and far away. I’m not sure I could hit the bulls-eye, especially with the harness shaking as it is. If I miss, the show’s over.
* Set the timer for one hour. It’s not going to be easy to get out of here, up to the surface, and then out of the crater. We need some time. Drop the cylinder vertically five feet to the right. The gas currents should take it directly into the hole. *
How are you able to know these things with such precision?
* Everyone has latent powers of observation. I’m simply using your own brain as a sensing mechanism. *
Fascinating. We need to talk more about this when my ass isn’t about to get singed.
Quiz punched the numeral 60 into the detonation keypad. He then pulled back the arming switch. The crystal started to glow brightly.
Quiz could barely see, but the thermonuclear bomb was now live.
The Royal Palace
The Ruins of Raj Kithune
Dazed, Will Langhorne regained consciousness and stood. He estimated that the temperature in the storage rooms of the Royal Palace was at least one hundred twenty degrees. Maybe more. Steam was hissing through several cracks in the floor.
A stairway guided him down into the earth. Langhorne knew it was folly to move deeper into the ruins, but he’d risked his life to come this far, and he intended to expend his remaining energy in an all-out effort to find something of value.
Taking a flashlight from one of his backpacks, he descended the stairway.
At the bottom, he emerged in a smaller chamber. The beam of his light played across the stone walls, which displayed line after line of unknown writing.
The beam highlighted a crawlway, five feet high, at the rear of the hot, humid chamber. Getting on all fours, he entered the narrow space, choking back the dangerous fumes that were invading all levels of the palace. His eyes stung with whatever was wafting through the air, and he wiped away tears with the back of his free hand.
“Well, what’s this?” he said in a low voice.
Several stone jars and wooden chests rested in niches in the wall on the left side of the crawlspace.
He pulled one of the chests out from the wall and opened its rotting lid.
Treasure! He held the flashlight between his teeth, aiming it at gold, silver, and precious gems. His greedy hands dug deeply into the chest, sifting through rings, necklaces, and decorative animals made of gold and silver. He saw topaz, rubies, diamonds, emeralds, and sapphires, their colors reflecting the flashlight’s beam and casting blue, green, red, and orange rays into the cramped space.
He knew that some of the gems would never be found in the American southwest in modern times, but he also realized that he was looking into a past so distant that it was impossible to imagine what the earth had held in its rock formations at an earlier date.
He began to gasp for breat
h. Time was growing short. He reached into his three backpacks, each of which held yet another backpack, rolled up and waiting to be filled.
He feverishly began to cram the packs with treasure from the jars and chests. He did so indiscriminately, not attempting to select one gem or object over another. Much of the gold and silver spilled onto the floor, but it didn’t matter to Langhorne. He’d be able to fill all six packs, and that would be enough. Sweat pouring from his forehead, he estimated that he would haul away something in the neighborhood of ten to twenty million dollars of gold, silver, and jewels. His efforts had been rewarded. Getting demoted by the U.S. Geological Survey was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He pictured himself in white linen suits, wining and dining women for the rest of his life.
He tied the packs together in pairs and began to crawl backwards since there was no room to turn around. Two minutes later, he had retraced his path to the chamber.
There was no way he could get to the main floor of the temple. The collapsed floor is what had thrown him into the chamber in the first place. He looked about, spying a different stairway, this one in the wall to his right. Golden light from the desert painted the stone stairs, beckoning him to the surface.
He stood and took a deep breath. It was the worst thing he could have done. The chamber was filled with noxious gas. Langhorne sank to his knees, coughing as he tried to catch his breath. He was beginning to feel dizzy and lethargic. He needed to exit the temple as soon as possible.
Langhorne was once again crawling on his knees. He’d slipped one backpack over his shoulder, a second dangling from the first. He dragged the other two pairs over the rough stones until he reached the sun-coated stairway.
“I’ve got to . . . make it . . . up,” he croaked. “Just got to. I’m . . . a . . . rich . . . man.”
Looking like a lizard, he pulled himself up the stairs, his stomach resting against the staggered stones. Right arm up, left arm up, pulling and clawing for each inch. He pushed with his legs: right leg up, left leg up. The heavy bags of treasure slowed his progress even further.
His vision grew blurry, and his breath came in short, wheezing gasps. The air pouring up from the earth behind him was foul and poisonous. If he could only make it three more feet, he would be free of the palace.
He made one final push to get clear of the chamber’s tainted air. Almost unconscious, he crawled onto the sand floor of the crater, his treasure packs sprawled about him.
Langhorne was thirsty, and the Nevada heat was oppressive. He reached for his canteen, but he didn’t have the strength to bring it to his lips. The last thing he saw was a tall baldheaded man looming above him.
It was Lieutenant Cho.
Titan Six
The Temple of Kalpur-az
Quiz held the nuke vertically in his right hand. LED indicator lights indicated that the detonation sequence had begun. In fifty-seven minutes, the desert in northeastern Nevada was not going to be habitable for man or beast.
“The light from the crystal is too bright,” Quiz said into his COM set. “I can barely see the hole below.”
“You need to do it now,” said Hawkeye. “Fifty-seven minutes is not a lot of time to get out of this godforsaken pit.”
Darkening his visor, Quiz released the device and watched it fall toward the hole below.
“Dammit!” he cried. “It hit the limestone next to the circular opening in the earth. It’s lying horizontally on the limestone, with only half of its length over the hole.”
* Drop something onto the part that is protruding over the hole. Make it tip over.”
With what?
* Your helmet. *
Quiz realized that this was the only thing he had that was large enough and heavy enough to do the job. Removing his helmet, the glare from the Ruba-schal below was even more distracting. Squinting, he leaned to the right.
There. He could barely make out the outline of the nuclear device, but he saw it. He clutched his helmet in both hands, took aim, and threw it down with every bit of strength he could muster.
A simple helmet was the last chance for mankind to wake up the next day and go about its business, oblivious to the apocalyptic fate that had been averted.
It was falling.
“Hit the damn thing!” Quiz said.
The helmet grazed the cylinder, which tipped over slightly and teetered on the edge of the limestone.
Seconds passed.
“Fall, you son of a bitch!” Quiz cried.
The device slipped a few inches, tilting ever so slightly.
Fifty-six minutes.
The thermonuclear bomb tilted farther.
“The damn thing’s just sitting there,” Quiz said to Dante.
* You’ve done all you can do. *
A slight tremor caused the cavern to vibrate, and the device slipped into the black hole.
Success. The package is delivered, but there’s a problem.
* Yes. That static line is on fire. *
I hope the line can withstand the vibrations created by the pulley wheel.
Quiz’s index finger pulled back on the toggle switch. The harness began to slowly move backwards and then halted.
“Quiz!” Hawkeye called.
There was no response. Without his helmet, Quiz had no protection from the gas venting from below.
He was unconscious.
Ops Center
Aboard the Alamiranta
“Ops, the harness has stopped and Quiz may have passed out,” Hawkeye said.
“I can’t get a BioMEMS signal to him,” Touchdown said. “The geological activity directly below him is causing some electromagnetic interference.”
Catherine Caine paced nervously around the holographic display of the temple of the sun god.
“Can you reel him in manually?” she asked.
“Negative,” said Hawkeye. “We’d have to shoot a second line towards him and have it catch hold of his harness. But we don’t have a line.”
“Do the Chinese have one?”
Hawkeye looked up at Aiko, who stood a few feet away. She shook her head.
“No, ma’am. I’m afraid we don’t.”
“Sorry to interrupt,” said DJ, “but Beatrice is moving again. Due west.”
The voice of Captain Papagantis came from the speakers. “I’m turning to port, but this is going to be close. I’m fairly certain that the feeder band on the starboard side of the ship is going to hit us.”
“Give orders to brace for impact, Captain,” Caine said. “Mr. Hawke, come up with something, and fast. Helicopters are already standing by at the northern rim of the crater. They’ll take you and the Chinese to safety.”
“I’m not sure we have any options down here,” Hawkeye said.
There was a brief pause.
“Then you’ll have to leave Quiz behind,” said Caine. “That’s an order. Move out. Now.”
Aft Cargo Hold 6
Aboard the Alamiranta
Pyro suddenly realized what he had forgotten to do. Turning the key to abort detonation wasn’t enough. You had to turn and push.
He reached into the casing, took hold of the key between his thumb and index finger, and pushed. The key went deeper into the charge . . . and then stopped.
It was jammed.
The digital countdown numbers began to blink.
00:31:26
Thirty-one minutes and twenty-six seconds until detonation.
Pyro attempted to pull the key from its slot, but it didn’t budge.
“Ops, this is Pyro.”
“Report,” said Caine.
“The key’s stuck. There’s nothing more I can do. The torpedo is going to explode. I highly recommend we push this thing into the ocean.”
“You said it was too unstable for such action!” Caine barked. “You said the gyroscopes would detonate the torpedo!”
“It’s the lesser of the evils at this point,” Pyro said.
“Very well then,” Caine said. “Do
it.”
“We’ll have to break the seals surrounding the torpedo,” Pyro explained. “The ones that were put in place to stop the compartment from flooding. Water’s going to pour in here pretty damn fast.”
Temple of Fire Page 10