Billie reached out and gripped his hand. It was firm and locked with hers in a grip that reassured her she would be safe. She saw the brief flash of tracer rounds as the helicopter banked to the north, swinging her violently, to avoid the shots from below.
An instant later the man pulled her inside, and the door below closed. Inside, the helicopter was lit up with hundreds of instrument displays. It looked more like the cockpit of something out of a Sci-Fi film than a helicopter. She doubted more than a couple countries in the world possessed such technologies. A moment later, the contents of her gut rose, as the helicopter dropped its altitude and left the side of the mountain.
“Are you all right, Doctor Swan?” the man asked.
“Having just saved my life, you can call me Billie.” She smiled, revealing a set of perfectly even, white teeth. “And yes, I think I’ll live.” She eyed the man in front of her. He pulled up the dark visor of his helmet, revealing the most intensely blue eyes she had ever seen, reminding her of the ocean.
The man smiled back at her.
It was a warm and reassuring smile. For all Billie knew, her troubles were only just about to begin. She had no idea who owned the helicopter or why they had gone to the effort of saving her life. But this man’s smile seemed to disarm those fears in an instant.
Behind them, a large explosion rocked the site where Ahmet, at Jeremy’s request, had set a large timed, bomb. The helicopter, now several hundred feet out from the explosion site, gave a minor shudder, as the blast-wave slipped across its smooth airframe.
“What was that?” the man asked.
“A bomb was set to go off at the entrance to the Temple of Illumination.”
“That would make sense, Dr. Swan.” The man nodded as though he were merely discussing tomorrow’s weather forecast. “By the way, my name’s Sam Reilly, and I’ve been looking for you a long time.”
Chapter One
Underground City of Derinkuyu, Turkey – Present Day
Sam Reilly sat down at a small table with three chairs, positioned outside an empty café that overlooked the gated entrance to the underground city. Tom Bower pulled up a seat opposite and sat down in silence. The sky above was a myriad of dark grays, ochre, and purple shades of predawn, speckled with a few remaining stars. To the north, nearly a hundred hot air balloons competed with the rising sun for space along the horizon over the Fairy Chimneys of Cappadocia.
A waiter with short dark hair and a thick mustache approached. “Good morning, gentlemen. You’re up early to see the balloons?”
Sam nodded. “That and we want to beat the crowds at Derinkuyu.”
“A good idea,” the waiter replied. “But you know they don’t open until nine, don’t you?”
“That’s okay. We’re happy to wait until then,” Sam lied. “Besides, it’s a surprisingly warm morning.”
The waiter smiled as he poured water into two empty glasses. “It’s the warmest summer we’ve had on record. I’ve heard that large amounts of the snowy caps of Mount Ararat have started to thaw for the first time in more than two hundred years.”
“Is that so?” Sam asked, genuinely interested. “We were thinking of doing some climbing over the next few weeks. It might be interesting to climb the sacred mountain.”
“Good for you,” the waiter said. “What can I get for you?”
Sam said, “Just a coffee, please. Black. No sugar.”
“And for you, sir?” The waiter turned his gaze to Tom.
“I’ll have the same, please.”
“Of course, sir.” The waiter smiled, cheerfully, and disappeared inside the shop.
Sam studied the café in a glance. It had been built into the soft volcanic rock face, along with the flock of gift-shops, restaurants and other tourist traps which had popped up to cater for the ubiquitous tourists who had flocked to the region to see the nearby underground city. None of the shops had existed before 1963, when a resident of the area found a mysterious room behind a wall in his home during a renovation that revealed access to the tunnel network and led to one of the largest underground cities ever discovered.
Next to him, Tom Bower sat with the same expression Sam had seen fixed to his friend’s face for the past six weeks. It was set with the hardened stare of a man who knew that definitive action was needed, but had no means of determining what that action should be. Tom’s dark brown eyes were fixed on the horizon, while his mind was a thousand miles away, searching silently for answers. At a guess, Sam assumed Tom was recalling the pyramid they’d discovered on Infinity Island six weeks ago.
The submerged island had risen after a large tectonic shift had disturbed the base of the Mediterranean Sea. Inside the pyramid they had discovered a Looking-Glass. It was the second one that Tom had witnessed, and the first Sam had seen. The device was built by an ancient race known as the Master Builders, who were unrecognized by the history books. They used the device as a means of visual communication between temples that spanned thousands of miles. It was made out of a translucent orb, capable of conducting sound and light hundreds of times faster than any other material found on earth – either natural or synthetic.
Like the first looking-glass, this one displayed the current views of a number of temples, as seen from above. If the device had been built today, Sam would have accepted it was merely powered by some sort of video calling system, such as Facetime or skype – but it had been constructed thousands of years ago, by the Master Builders. They were perhaps the most intelligent, far-reaching, and longest surviving group of people in existence. At times, Sam harbored the possibility that some of them remained, scattered throughout the globe – of course, it was only a theory, and there was no proof.
This time, the device showed a series of ancient dilapidated temples, and one modern temple currently under construction. Inside were hundreds of people – primitive in their appearance – and quite dark skinned. Their faces were painted blue. They were almost completely naked, with the exception of some kind of loincloth. Both women and men were bare breasted. And all of them were working vigorously to finish building the chamber. They all looked focused. Almost mesmerized by their desire to perform their task without any consideration for their own rest and wellbeing. They were working hard and constantly. No one was whipping them. There was no one guiding them. But like a group of ants, they were all simply taking part in completing their individual tasks so that the main project could be completed. And then there was one who didn’t belong.
She was slightly shorter than the other women, and her complexion was much lighter and smoother. Her face shared the same intense focus as those around her. She was mesmerized by what she was doing, as though she was performing the work of the Gods. She looked like a slave, or someone who’d been drugged heavily with amnesic and hypnotic medications. While all of the men and women there looked muscular, her appearance was more lithe and athletic. She had a different sort of bone structure, altogether. She wore a pair of tan cargo shorts and a white tank top. Above her right shoulder was a small tattoo of a pyramid. She was definitely pretty. Sam gritted his teeth as he thought about the discovery. Her name was Dr. Billie Swan and two years ago, before she disappeared, Tom Bower had aspirations of one day marrying her.
It had been six weeks now since they’d discovered that Dr. Billie Swan was still alive, and was now working as a slave on the construction of the new temple. The pyramid, along with the looking-glass, had sunk back into the ocean and they had no means of tracing where the image had come from. With the only direct link to the new temple being destroyed, this was their first lead to anything that might suggest the Master Builders were building again.
The waiter returned and handed them their coffees. Sam thanked the man and took a sip. He smiled. The coffee was rich, and surprisingly good. It warmed him from the inside, and made him feel confident about the meeting with the stranger who’d contacted him forty-eight hours ago.
After the pyramid had sunk back into the Mediterranean Sea and
with it any direct connection to where Billie had been taken, Sam had sent out a series of requests through a network of antiquity dealers, archeologists, and climatologists around the world. The request was simple – Have you ever seen anything like this, and if so, where? Attached was a photograph of the ancient script written by the Master Builders. To date, the ancient written language had only been discovered in a total of five locations. Of those, three were no longer in existence.
There was only one positive response, and it came two days ago.
Mr. Reilly. I believe I have seen something written in the same script. In the past three years since I discovered it, I have made more than a hundred enquiries about its origins. So far no one has been able to identify who wrote it. I assumed it was an ancient civilization, because there was nothing similar anywhere, on any document. I’ve searched the archeology archives, internet and spoken with many archeologists. None has seen this type of script before. Last year, I had a section of the wood it was written on carbon dated. To make the mystery greater, the results returned with a dating of around 400 years old, which places it somewhere around the early part of the 16th century. It definitely doesn’t match any form of written language anywhere within Turkey, and definitely none from such a recent century. If you’re interested, please come to Derinkuyu. I would love to hear from someone who’s seen it before and might be able to explain its origins.
Attached was a copy of the image the stranger had found. It was indeed written in the language of the Master Builders, and if his carbon dating was correct, it was by far the youngest known writing by them that he had ever seen. The question remained, could it be possible a descendent of the Master Builders had survived, and was currently in the process of constructing a new temple?
Sam considered the possibility as he sipped his warm coffee.
“Mr. Sam Reilly?” A man asked as he entered the café.
Sam nodded. The question came from a short man in his mid-forties. He had an olive complexion and gregarious smile.
The man offered his hand. “My name is Kahraman Sadik, and I’m so glad you came straight away.”
“And this is an associate and good friend of mine, Tom Bower.” Sam stood to greet the stranger, taking his hand. “Can I get you a coffee or tea?”
“Pleased to meet you both,” Sadik said, his eyes furtively darting between the two of them. “I’m afraid we must leave right away. I’ll tell you what I know along the way, and you can fill in what I long to hear, but we must leave now. We must descend underground before the sun’s fully up.”
“Descend?” Sam smiled, awkwardly. “Where?”
Sadik grinned. “Why into the depths of Derinkuyu of course, where no tourist has ever been.”
Chapter Two
Sam stood up and placed a red ten lira banknote on the table to cover the bill. He studied Sadik trying to decide whether the guy was crazy and had just seen the image of the Master Builder’s script on the internet or something, or whether he really had something to offer. Sadik’s eyes were wide, and constantly glancing around furtively. He was out of breath, like he’d just run half a dozen blocks or something.
“You okay?” Sam asked, looking at Sadik.
“I’m fine, fine. We just need to be below ground before Derinkuyu is open to the public, shortly after sunrise.”
“Okay. We’ll follow you.” Sam looked at Tom. He didn’t need to say anything. It was obvious Tom shared his instant distrust of the stranger.
They left the café and followed a series of stone walkways and stairways along a shallow valley, where the once eternal stream that carved its way through the region appeared long departed. The path traversed upward and downward thirty or more feet as they moved in and around a variety of caverns that formed the local houses and shopfronts for the vicinity.
“I thought the entrance to Derinkuyu was back there?” Sam asked.
“It was,” Sadik confirmed. He glanced over his shoulder, behind him – holding his gaze purposefully for a few moments, as though he was expecting something. He smiled briefly, and turned to Sam again. “I’m sorry. What did you say? Ah, that’s right. The main tourist entrance? Yes. It was back there. There are many entrances to the ancient subterranean city. I’m taking you to one of the most northern ones. It’s actually a ventilation shaft. Very few people know about it.”
Tom’s lip curled into the slightest of grins at the lie, but he remained silent.
Sam met Sadik’s eye, and asked the question. “And still, we need to be inside before the sun comes up?”
“Yes,” Sadik confirmed.
“Why?”
“Because you’re not the only person to take interest in this discovery.”
Sam said, “Someone is watching the entrances?”
Sadik nodded. “There are many people watching all of the entrances.”
“You said you discovered this piece of wood with the unique writing on it almost three years ago. Have they been interested in this location since then?”
“No. Only for the past six weeks.”
Sam asked, “Why?”
Sadik said, “Because you posted your damned query about the ancient script on the internet, and suddenly nearly everyone I showed the image to over the past three years is dead.”
“And yet you trust me?”
“No. But what choice do I have. If you wanted to discover something the others hadn’t, you wouldn’t have been posting it so the world could see, would you? Two of my very good friends have died – I need to know why.”
“And you think I might provide those answers?”
“I think you’re the only one I’ve ever met who has an idea who wrote that strange script.” Sadik took a pause to catch his breath. “And once you’ve seen where I found it, I’m hoping you’ll be able to provide me with some of those answers.”
“I’ll do my best.” Sam regathered his thoughts as he carefully followed Sadik. “In the last six weeks, has anyone else approached you to see the strange markings?”
“Yes,” Sadik confirmed. “There were two other people interested in this information, just this week.” Sadik nodded. “And they were both willing to pay big.”
“What did you say?”
“I said I’d sent the piece of wood away to Europe to be studied by experts, but I’d love their input when it gets back.”
Sam said, “Good man.”
Speaking to Sadik, Tom asked, “Do you have any idea who’s following your movements?”
“No.” Sadik crouched down, close to a stone wall marking out the edge of a small open field.
“Then how do you know you’re being followed?” Sam asked.
“I see them. There are people who don’t belong here. They act as though they have a purpose, but they have no other purpose than to watch me. I’ve carefully checked all the entrances over the past few weeks. Every single one has been guarded, with the exception of this one.”
“This one isn’t guarded?” Sam asked.
“No.” Sadik increased his pace, walking straight past the entrance and going further up the hill beyond. “Very few people know about its existence.”
“So what are you afraid of?” Sam asked.
“The two men who are following us right now.”
Sam glanced behind him. There were two men, casually walking along the path about thirty feet apart. Both looked like tourists. Sadik stopped and both men kept walking past them. Sam glanced at Sadik who shrugged and kept walking. Two hundred feet along the path, Sadik stopped again. The two men had stopped in a cave to buy something. Sadik waited and in a few minutes both men walked past them again.
Sam watched until the two men disappeared up ahead. “You still think they’re following you?”
Sadik nodded, looking less confident. “They don’t belong here.”
“Of course they don’t, they’re tourists.”
After another couple of minutes Sadik started to walk back toward the entrance to the ventilation shaft.
He made it less than a hundred feet before stopping again.
“What now?” Sam asked.
Sadik glanced up ahead to his left. “Look at the Aria Cave Hotel up ahead. Do you recognize the two gentlemen reading the paper?”
The stone chimney had been carved out to make a five story boutique hotel. At the bottom of the hotel there were two men reading the paper. Sam recognized them at a glance as the two who Sadik said were following them. They must have sped up and then looped back around a second path, so they could get in front of them again.
Sam breathed in calmly and said, “I believe you’re right, we’re being stalked…”
Chapter Three
Sam kept walking until he was no more than twenty feet from the two men who had been following them and stopped. He made no attempt to appear inconspicuous. They were the ones who wanted to keep a surreptitious eye on Sadik and possibly him, not the other way round. So Sam didn’t see any reason why he should go out of his way to pretend not to be staring directly at them.
They were seated out the front of a subterranean hotel called Nexus. The lobby of the hotel was built into a large natural stone chimney which stood approximately thirty feet above ground. The accommodation and entertainment were all deep below the surface. Out the front a large glass revolving door stood unnaturally as a grand entrance, moving in a slow and continuous clockwise direction.
He stared directly at the two men. They were reading the Financial Review, but they definitely didn’t look like any businessmen he’d ever met. They wore identical dark shades, with similar cargo shorts, beige V-neck tee shirts and thick climbing vests. There was a conspicuous bulge in both of their cargo pockets. It might have been caused by a weapon – maybe a handgun and spare magazines? Or they might be tourists carrying their wallets and cameras. Both looked genuinely interested in what they were reading. Perhaps they knew Sadik had to backtrack eventually?
Both men were of a roughly average height, with a slim and athletic build. They looked very similar, but not close enough to be brothers. Their rigid postures and definite movements suggested they had a military or paramilitary background. There was also the chance they were in some sort of policing role. If he was stateside, Sam couldn’t have ruled out FBI or even CIA agents. In Turkey, they might work for Interpol – or they might work for whoever it was that didn’t want him to find out what secret Derinkuyu held about the Master Builders.
The Sam Reilly Collection Volume 3 Page 9