A New World: Conspiracy

by John O'Brien

  They slowly make their way across the sandy and rocky ground, making sure not to scuff their boots. Any equipment that would make noise when moved was taped down prior to leaving the Stryker. Their M-4s are poised in front of them, ready to pour suppressed fire down the narrow cave. With Greg leading and Kyle behind, they continue in single file. Ahead, a metal door bars their path. The rectangular frame is set into the rock wall at the top and bottom, but the curvature of the cave causes gaps on the sides. It isn’t possible to slide bodily through, but they are wide enough to pass an arm through. Greg halts the team and looks to Kyle.

  “Well, that’s new. At least since the last time I was there,” Kyle whispers.

  An unknown noise comes from the other side. The team freezes and becomes even more still –which means that they become part of the stone. To Greg, the sound is like a scraping or shuffling sound. It’s not loud, but it’s there near the other side of the door.

  Greg motions for the others to hold their positions and, with Kyle in tow, he inches toward the door. Peeking through one of the apertures to the side of the doorway, Greg sees two men leaning against a roughhewn wall approximately forty feet ahead. They are listless and appear bored, occasionally breaking the silence with an exchanged word or two which only reaches Greg’s ears as mutterings. At the two men’s feet lie several gas-powered camping lanterns that cast pools of white light.

  Greg looks on the other side of the three inch solid steel door to see that it’s padlocked on the other side. Their entrance is guarded and locked.

  This is beginning to look like a no-go, Greg thinks, studying the lock, door, and guards.

  He watches for a few additional moments. No one else comes into view and the two kick at the ground. The indications are that they’ve been there for a while with no one coming or going. The armed nature of the guards gives a clear indication that they are the bad guys. Greg looks at the lock on the other side of the door once more.

  “Do you have a good angle on the one to the right?” Greg asks.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Greg decides to take a chance. Putting the muzzle of his suppressor into the opening, he places his red dot on the head of the figure to the left. It’s easy to hold his aim as neither person is moving.

  “On my count,” Greg says as Kyle positions his carbine. “Three…two…one…”

  The cave flashes with split-second strobes as high-speed projectiles are launched down the darkened space with muffled coughs. The bullets connect with force, impacting the sides of each guard’s head. Both rock to the side as the steel core rounds penetrate their skulls near the ear and explode inside of the brain. One guard falls violently to the side, knocking over a lantern. Some of the liquid spills out and is ignited by the lantern. The other guard slumps down the wall to a sitting position and then slowly falls over to the side.

  Acting quickly, Greg motions Kyle behind the door and pulls out his 9mm handgun. Reaching through the door, he places the barrel close to the padlock and, shielding himself behind the steel portal, he fires. The round hits the lock and whizzes down the hall. Looking at the lock, it has held. He repeats the action and, looking again, is rewarded by a shredded and unattached lock.

  He removes the hasp and opens the door. Greg and Kyle move quickly at a crouch to where the two figures lie on the cold cave floor. Greg rights the lantern and quickly smothers the small fire with his boot. The two of them check for any signs of life and, finding none, grab the pair by the ankles and drag them back. He sends two soldiers to erase the drag marks as he and Kyle drop the bodies over the edge of the wall.

  Returning quickly, the team moves to where the lanterns are illuminating the small area. Greg closes the door and attaches the broken lock before joining them. Another steel door blocks an upward tunnel that branches off and Kyle identifies it as the main entrance.

  “The tunnel heads up into the main building above.”

  Greg tests the door and finds it unlocked. A key extends from the inset lock. Greg turns the key and locks the door.

  “You two stay here and keep out of sight,” he says, detailing two soldiers to stay behind.

  The three remaining continue into the cave system. Kyle leads as Greg doesn’t want to lead them astray by taking a random exit or missing the one they need. Coming to an intersection, a cave branches to the left, another heads to the right, and the one they are on continues straight ahead. Kyle turns and heads down the branch to the right. The cave width fluctuates as they proceed, sometimes wide enough for two abreast and at others, there’s only enough room for one to squeeze through. Although the path is straight, it varies in elevation and, contrary to what Kyle said earlier, they are seldom able see very far in advance.

  With their night vision goggles lowered, they move rapidly yet quietly in a crouch, their carbines out in front ready to engage anyone they should they encounter. Anyone they meet is considered a hostile in this environment and they’ll get the first shot in and either move up or withdraw quickly in the dark.

  After a time, Greg makes out a yellow glow of light ahead illuminating the width of the cave. It literally looks like the light at the end of the tunnel. Kyle halts with Greg close behind. The other soldier with them goes to his knee and covers their rear. Even though there are two guarding their backside, there is no telling where someone might materialize with all of the cave’s offshoots.

  “That’s the Canopy Hall ahead. I don’t know where the captives will be since the cavern is so large,” Kyle whispers.

  Greg takes the lead, knowing now where they need to go. He inches forward in the freezing cold of the cave. Small stalactites hang from the ceiling, dirty yet with gleams of ice showing. His boots shuffle across the gritty surface as he crouches with his M-4 pointing steadily in front of him. Plumes of frosted breath fill the lower part of his vision as he exhales, vanishing over his shoulders as he pushes on. The flare of light ahead grows in size with each step.

  As he approaches, he sees that the cave opens up. Faint voices are heard from ahead, rising and falling in volume. Greg can’t make out individual words, but it’s apparent one person is speaking loudly. Sweat trickles down the side of his face despite the freezing temperatures. His hands grip his M-4 loosely but with tension at the same time. His breath comes quicker and he feels his heart rate kick up a notch. The chill air on his ears makes them ache and he feels both hot and cold simultaneously.

  He eases against the wall to minimize his outline in the center of the hall. If someone comes their way, he’ll drop them where they stand. With the team still in the dark, any return fire from others will be directed down the center of the cave. He inches closer.

  At the edge of the light, Greg notes that the pathway descends and extends through the middle of the cavern which stretches out to either side. The voice becomes louder and other voices join in as if cheering, echoing off the hard walls of the cavern. Greg peeks into the wide cavity.

  Lanterns are scattered throughout the cavern causing alternating places of brightness and gloom. Shadows dance across the floor and wall like wraiths. To his immediate left, he sees two guards sitting against the rock walls, their knees drawn up and attention focused around a corner from where the voices are coming. They are in a small notch extending into the bedrock away from the central cavern. Around the corner from their sitting place, more light glares. And between the two guards, in the center of the notch, four people are chained to a wall.

  The four sit despondently with their arms and foreheads resting on drawn up knees. Their tops and pants are tattered and grimy. Any length of hair they have looks like a cross between morning hair and being dragged behind a horse. Of particular note is the four instead of five that should have been there as indicated by Kyle’s sister.

  Greg shrugs and motions his findings to the two behind him. He pulls them close and whispers his plan. He’ll take out the guards quietly and then move up to observe around the corner. The two are to search the guards for keys and begin
unshackling the prisoners. He feels his pulse pounding as he’s about to step into that fine line between being hidden and opening himself to the potential of getting caught. Action which can draw attention to them is near and approaching like a speeding freight train.

  Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he eases around the corner. The guards are still preoccupied with the person that is out of sight and talking. He centers his aiming reticle on the nearest one and waits. Soon, the shouting voices that he’s heard from time to time erupt in the cavern and he squeezes the trigger. The carbine kicks against his shoulder - one delivery is outbound. He quickly shifts his aim to the other guard and fires while the sound of cheering still echoes off the walls. His suppressed, subsonic rounds both connect a second apart. Blood splashes against the light brown walls and both men slump to the side leaving dark smears on the walls.

  Greg is up before the second body hits and places a round in each head as he hastens past them in a crouch. The single voice picks up again as Greg drops prone and peers around the corner.

  Across the hall, a gaggle of men stand with their backs to him. Unable to see beyond the last row of people, he still gets the impression that there are approximately thirty gathered. On the wall on the far side, over their heads, shadows flickers from the light of a fire. Greg still can only catches snippets as they bounce off the granite.

  “Work of the gods…you fools…sacrifice will…demons sent forth…appeased…the…demand it…”

  This reminds Greg of the prison where he and Jack entered to conduct a similar rescue. Only this has a more maniacal aspect to it. He can’t really explain the difference except to say that this has more of a heated fervor to it – bordering or passing into true insanity. The other was one man, although crazy himself, that had some control. But this seems like it has a fever attached to it – almost demonic.

  He doesn’t know if the people standing in front of him actually believe what the man is spouting or if they just like hurting people. That really doesn’t matter at the moment as he is now in a race against time. At some point, the talking will end and the people will leave to go about their business. And that will carry them his way. Everyone he sees is armed, and most appear to have some flavor of an AR-15 or M-4. If his team is engaged, they won’t be able to outgun the group.

  Greg turns back to where his two teammates are trying key after key in the padlocks that hold the captives in their manacles. Between the prisoners, empty manacles hang from U-bolts that have been driven into the rock. Where they came up with so many shackles is beyond him.

  “Come on…hurry up,” Greg whispers.

  “We’re trying, sir. There must be a hundred keys here,” Kyle replies.

  Greg turns his attention back to the gathering. Another cheer rises from them. The anxiety of staying here for so long grows within until Greg doesn’t know if he can stand it any longer. He gets the feeling that this little soirée is drawing to a close. He’s about to say fuck it and leave with what they have when he feels a tap on his leg. He startles and turns to see Kyle mouth, ‘We’re ready.’

  Greg nods, expecting Kyle to turn and go with the captives. The other soldier with them begins leading the prisoners out. They stagger with weakness but, holding onto each other, they walk slowly into the darkness. Kyle remains.

  “What?” Greg asks, whispering.

  “Sir, Diane mentioned six. With the one we rescued last night, there should be five and there’s only four,” Kyle says, nodding in the direction of the departing ex-captives.

  Greg gets what he is saying. His sister mentioned that they periodically take a prisoner and haul them in front of the group to beat them. Greg has a sinking feeling and feels like throwing up. There’s nothing they can do, though. If they engage, they will get chewed up. Tossing a grenade in this enclosure to even things up will hit the team as hard as the others.

  “Was your brother in those we have?” Greg asks.

  Kyle nods his affirmative.

  “As much as I hate to say this, we’re just going to have to call this a win and get out of here,” Greg says.

  Accepting what Greg says, Kyle turns and heads toward the cavern exit. Greg stops to pick up an open padlock lying on the ground and then follows on Kyle’s heels.

  Greg trudges down the narrow cave with a heavy heart. With his decision, he has possibly condemned someone to be beaten and tied to the crosses. This is where the tough decisions come and he has to draw a line between team safety and saving others. He wracks his mind as to how he can save that person – if there even is someone. Taking the group one-on-one is absolutely out of the question. He could wait until the one was tied and rescue them, but it won’t be long until this group finds their dead and missing members. They’ll be alerted.

  Even with the Stryker, their chances would be risky. It’s apparent that these people have raided armories at Fort Carson and they may have anti-armor weapons at their disposal. He can’t hazard that. If he had C-4, he could attach it and bring the ceiling crashing down on them, trapping them inside. His decision is not only condemning that one person to die, he’s allowing this hatred and evil to continue. The weight is enough to drown him, but there’s nothing he can do. He’s saved five people and, providing they get out without trouble, his team will live to fight another day.

  He knows this decision will stay with him forever, but he will mark this place and talk with Jack when he sees him. On this leg of their trip, Greg has encountered some of the highest examples of humankind in this new world – the people of Lamar and the peace they have there. From the evil he is now walking away from, he’s also come across the lowest forms of humanity.

  He and Kyle catch up to the prisoners and they make their way quickly to the guards they posted at the entrance. Through gaps in the door, Greg sees two bodies lying in the tunnel just beyond the other side of the steel door.

  “What happened here?” Greg asks, gesturing.

  “They wanted us to unlock the door…and we didn’t want to. There was a disagreement…they lost…sir.”

  Greg nods, his mood lightened a little, and they make their way through the other steel door. Greg reaches through once they close it behind them and padlocks it. He then slips the large key ring into his pocket.

  At the edge of the drop, each team member takes one of the newly freed hostages. Hugging them against the wall, their bodies shielding them from falling, and helping them place their feet, they manage to get the weakened people down.

  Greg climbs the rope with two other teammates. The climb is arduous but, with the help of the knots, they make it. Kyle remains below with another teammate. Using the other ropes they brought, they fashion Swiss seats on the four ex-captives. They tie a carabiner at the end of the rope dangling from the hole high above and attach it to the first person. With the job finished, Kyle sends the other soldier up the rope and stays behind.

  “Hold onto the rope to steady yourself and don’t let go,” Kyle tells the people. “You probably won’t fall if you do, but being upside down sucks big time. If you do let go, spread your legs and try to orient yourself back upright.”

  With two keeping watch, Greg and another soldier begin hauling the first of the former captives up. The knots help but their backs and arms strain with the effort. Eventually a head pokes through the sinkhole. With the soldier holding the rope steady, Greg grabs their shoulders and hoists them up. He sends them a short way down the path and tells them to wait there. The four on top alternate in teams of two with each person and, although it takes some time, they get everyone up.

  As they drag the last person out of the hole, Greg hears a commotion from the other side of the building - shouting coming from the parking lot. He hustles the person down the path and drops the rope to Kyle. Time has run out. They’ve been discovered. Greg can only hope that the locked main entrance door and the bodies on the other side will suggest that they escaped in that direction, just as long as they don’t come around the back. Car doors slam an
d engines start. Soon, the sound of vehicles fades as they drive down the road leading to the establishment.

  Kyle emerges and they haul up the rope. Greg wants to keep the route a secret in case they decide to visit again. He has to walk away now, but people like this don’t deserve to live. There’s no place on this earth for the likes of them. The nine of them descend the switchbacks and enter the deep valley. The sun has passed through its zenith and lowered into afternoon.

  They travel slowly, due to the weakened state of the ones rescued. They also don’t want their movement to draw any undue attention. Water has provided the four with a little refreshment and their staggering walk steadies some but they aren’t up for wind sprints as yet. Greg knows they need to make cautious haste out of the area. He hasn’t heard any fat lady singing, and she won’t until they see this city far in their rearview.

  It’s a trial getting everyone up the steep ravine that leads to the Stryker. The team has to help the others over every boulder and push them up the steep inclines. It’s apparent the ex-prisoners are near the end of their strength. The knowledge that they’ve been freed gives them the power to push on even though they feel like lying down and resting under the peaceful sun.

  Panting and sweating, they crest the top. The team pauses with their hands on their knees and the others collapse in the dirt, not caring if they die where they fall. At least they will die free.

  Greg gets the team in motion again and cajoles the others with the promise that safety lays just a few more steps away. The powder kicked up from their boots seems drier and dustier than before. They are all exhausted - the post-adrenaline let down. The Stryker is parked in the shadow of a sheltering bluff, almost hidden. They scramble aboard and cram into every available space. The boy they rescued the night before is awake and smiles at the soldiers entering. Diane gives a croaking cry and throws her arms around one of the four they brought. The ex-prisoners are given water and fall asleep almost immediately.