Ancient Origins: Books 4 - 6 (Ancient Origins Boxset Book 2)

by Robert Storey

  Ancient Origins Books 4 - 6

  Robert Storey

  Contents

  I. GENESIS

  II. THE TENTH PROTOCOL

  III. THE LOST PROPHET

  Author Note

  A Final Message

  Also by Robert Storey

  About the Author

  IV. Appendices

  Acknowledgments

  GENESIS

  Ancient Origins Book 4

  In the blackest pits, or emptiest of voids, there is always a guiding light; it’s just up to us to find it.

  – Robert Storey

  Facts:

  On the 31st of October, 2015, an asteroid (possibly a dead comet) with the designation TB145, passed close to Earth at eighty thousand miles an hour. This rock measured approximately half a kilometre in diameter and its impact on our planet would have had the power to devastate a whole continent. The worrying thing is, due to the unusual nature of this asteroid’s solar orbit, TB145 was only discovered three weeks prior to its flypast of our planet.

  That an object of this scale evaded our notice highlights the tenuous nature of our existence on the Earth’s surface and opens up the questions, why is there no mechanism in place to detect these threats? Why aren’t our governments uniting to combat them? And perhaps most importantly, how many more dark comets are out there waiting to strike?

  On the 8th January 2011 an asteroid with the potential to impact Earth in 2040 was discovered by the Mount Lemmon Survey. This near-Earth object was given the designation, 2011 AG5.

  Terminology / Map

  USSB – United States Subterranean Base

  GMRC – Global Meteor Response Council

  Darklight – World’s largest private security contractor

  SFSD – Special Forces Subterranean Detachment (Terra Force)

  SED – Sanctuary Exploration Division

  Deep Reach – Special survey team working within the SED

  Silver – An elite military unit available to the highest bidder

  Sanctuary Proper – Ancient underground structure built by an extinct species of Hominid, Homo giganthropsis (the Anakim)

  Year:

  2041 A.D.

  Prologue

  ‘This is SED Command. We are a go for express shuttle launch Zulu–Seven–Two in T minus twenty seconds.’

  The countdown timer in the Control Station sank under ten seconds and SED Command spoke again. ‘T minus seven seconds … five, four, three, two, one – launch.’

  Another air-shuttle roared forth from USSB Sanctuary’s Exploration Division, plunging down into the great shaft that cut down into the rocky substrate beneath. Soon after, rockets fired and the craft picked up speed, its blazing lights ploughing through the darkness like a tethered jet fighter as it twisted and turned through massive dark chambers and tight spiralling tunnels. On the same track, many miles south, another shuttle emerged from a transparent tunnel to cruise to a stop at an SED outpost. A unit of armoured Special Forces soldiers disembarked, their Terra Force insignias standing out against their grey and brown camouflage. Weapons and kit were unloaded, and with little ceremony the group of men struck out on a pre-planned route punctuated by waypoint beacons. Following this treacherous path, lines of shielded cabling had already been laid down by those that had gone before. These red conduits of electricity snaked up vertical climbs, down sheer drops and across the gaping fissures that littered Sanctuary Proper like a scaly plague. Deeper into the pitch-black void, teams of men and women tackled the unforgiving landscape of the ancient, Anakim, subterranean world. And further still, at the head of the far reaching expedition, hundreds of people congregated on a vast plateau, where portable floodlights lit up an enormous cavern, transforming the endless night into the dazzle of day.

  Stripped to the waist, a couple of hundred men heaved on ropes, dragging up heavy pieces of equipment from a deep ravine below. Amongst these toiling souls, an armoured man bellowed out orders.

  ‘Pull, you sons of whores! Put your fucking backs into it!!’

  The efforts of those nearby increased and the Terra Force leader walked to the cliff edge and peered down, before unleashing a string of threatening curses at those beneath.

  Further back amidst the masses, Deep Reach team leader Riley Orton heaved back on a rope. His muscles bunched and sweat dripped down his naked torso while around him blazing lights added to the heat of his exertion. Without sleep for forty-eight hours, Riley felt fit to drop and it seemed he wasn’t the only one. Ahead of him, a man slumped to the ground in exhaustion, his grip failing. The rope’s momentum slowed and stopped as two other men went to his assistance.

  The incident drew the attention of their uncompromising mission commander, Colonel Samson, who strode to the scene. ‘Leave him!’

  ‘He needs rest,’ one of the men said. ‘We all do.’

  ‘You’ll rest when I say you can rest.’ Samson pushed aside the unconscious man and picked up the rope. ‘NOW PULL!’

  Everyone leant back against the massive weight they were attempting to drag up from below. Hand over hand, the rope moved through Riley’s gloves, slow at first but picking up speed as Samson continued to berate and push them, while his prodigious strength added impetus to the struggle.

  A shout of warning came from the cliff edge and the ground beneath Riley’s feet shuddered. Fifty feet away a section of rock disappeared in a cloud of dust and ten men vanished from view, their screams echoing into the chamber as they fell.

  The rope snapped taut, dragging Riley forwards before shearing through his grip as the heavy load dropped.

  ‘Hold!’ Samson shouted. ‘HOLD!!’

  The man nearest the edge let go and rolled to safety. Samson, next in line, coiled his arms round the rope and activated his armour’s inbuilt anchors. Two metal bolts fired into the ground, jerking the colonel to a stop with their attached cables.

  Samson grunted in pain as opposite forces threatened to rip him in two, and Riley held on as others rushed to their aid. The unbearable weight lessened and, inch by inch, foot by foot, the tide turned back in their favour.

  After what seemed like an age, their goal neared its conclusion and the equipment appeared over the ridge and continued up onto flat ground.

  Riley released the rope and sank to one knee as the other teams around them finished hauling up their respective machinery. He breathed deep and not for the first time he questioned their conservation of power. It had been deemed prudent to conserve energy by limiting the use of winches now they were beyond the reach of an electrical supply. He could see the wisdom behind the decision, but it didn’t stop him complaining about it.

  As Riley contemplated passing out, Samson detached the cables that secured him in place and made a beeline for the man who’d abandoned his position on the rope.

  The colonel punched the soldier to the ground. ‘Disobey my orders again,’ Samson said, standing over his victim, ‘and I’ll throw you over the edge myself. Do you understand me!?’

  Silence fell on those gathered.

  Dazed, the man looked up at his attacker before nodding his head.

  Riley felt a pang of sympathy for the soldier, who’d done the only thing he could to save his own life. But as everyone knew, arguing with the colonel was like wrestling with a rabid bull; it could only end one way.

  Samson swung round to glare at them. ‘What do you think you’re looking at? Get back to work!’

  The noise of labour resumed, the incident forgotten, but Riley knew Samson had saved many more men below from being crushed to death, putting his own life on the line wh
en no one else would. It was hard to accept such an animal could demonstrate such selflessness. Although, Riley reasoned, he was probably more worried about losing his precious equipment than lives. Whatever the case, he’d saved them from yet more losses, but there was one thing his actions could never change, it was the colonel’s single-mindedness that had pushed their death toll to over forty and they were still only a few days out from base.

  How many more will die in the coming days? Riley could only guess.

  His hand strayed to the safety harness at his waist, the touch reassuring him he had options should he find himself freefalling to his death.

  Samson wiped sweat from his brow and accepted a water canister from one of his commandos, and Riley caught himself glaring at the man who seemed hell-bent on pushing them beyond their limits.

  ‘If he keeps this up,’ a voice said from behind, ‘none of us are gonna make it back to base.’

  Riley turned round to his friend and Deep Reach team mate, the bald-headed Jefferson Church. The bear of a man took on some water, wiped the back of a thick forearm across his bewhiskered face, and passed the flask to Riley, who drank his fill.

  ‘And it’ll be for naught if Sarah has already made it to the surface,’ Riley said.

  Jefferson looked sceptical. ‘If that’s where she’s going, she’s headed the wrong way.’ He lowered his voice. ‘What’s she doing down here, Ri? I still don’t get it.’

  Riley shrugged. In the spare moments he’d had to ponder such questions, the answers remained as elusive as the woman herself.

  ‘One thing’s for sure,’ Jefferson said, ‘whatever she’s taken, they’ll do anything to get it back.’

  Riley murmured his agreement as the colonel turned in their direction.

  ‘You, team leader,’ Samson said, pointing at Riley, ‘a word.’

  The colonel stalked away as more soldiers and SED personnel flooded up onto the plateau from below.

  Apprehensive, Riley picked up his gear and approached the intimidating presence of the Terra Force commander, who stood staring out over a deep fissure.

  ‘How far until we intercept the route?’ Samson said, his metal shod boots sending loose sediment skittering down into the abyss.

  ‘According to our charts,’ Riley said, ‘after we cross the chasm, about three miles.’

  ‘And no one’s ever come this way before?’

  ‘No, it was deemed too dangerous.’

  Samson grunted. ‘Where’s your superior?’

  Riley looked around. He hadn’t seen Locke for some time. ‘I think he said he was going to scout ahead. Ophion and his two … companions, went with him.’

  Samson’s perpetual scowl deepened at the mention of S.I.L.V.E.R.’s chrome clad leader. He looked Riley in the eye, his ice-cold eyes burning intensely. ‘You were close to this woman? You know how she thinks?’

  Riley hesitated.

  ‘Withhold information from me, boy,’ Samson said, ‘and it’ll be the last mistake you make.’

  Riley stared into the man’s feral gaze and didn’t doubt him for a second. He nodded.

  ‘What are her chances?’ Samson said.

  ‘Of what?’

  ‘Of staying alive.’

  ‘Down here? It depends.’

  ‘On what?’

  ‘On how well she’s prepared,’ Riley said. ‘She may be able to locate fresh water in Sanctuary, but there’s no food. If she finds water and ekes out her supplies, she could survive for forty days maybe, fifty max.’

  ‘Will she follow the waypoint markers?’

  ‘If she’s heading for the temple, she’d be crazy not to.’

  Samson fell silent and Riley, not sure if he’d been dismissed, felt compelled to fill the uncomfortable break in conversation. ‘Have you heard from the other teams?’

  The colonel didn’t reply, instead he flipped open a pouch and knocked back a handful of something to chew before swallowing it down.

  ‘The second expedition has located their tracks,’ said a deep voice.

  Riley turned as the towering form of Ophion Nexus appeared out of the gloom, his chrome armour glinting in the light. At his side walked the smaller figure of Dresden Locke, the SED’s facility commander. And following behind them both were two women encased in the same shining armour as their leader, Ophion’s ever-present lieutenants.

  ‘How many days does Sarah have on them?’ Riley said.

  Locke removed his outdated Deep Reach helmet. ‘They think she’s at least a week ahead,’ – he ran a hand through short, grey hair – ‘according to the latest report, anyway.’

  Riley’s hopes soared. If that’s the case, he reasoned, after we’ve found a route across the unexplored terrain, we’ll get to Sarah first. If we can find a route across, he counselled himself. The only problem was he wasn’t sure that was a good thing. He wanted to be there when they caught up to her, but at the same time that meant the colonel and Ophion would be there, too.

  Riley glanced at Samson and remembered the conversation he’d overheard between the colonel and the GMRC Intelligence Director.

  ‘Tear Sanctuary apart if you have to,’ Joiner had said. ‘Whatever it takes, whatever the cost, that pendant must be retrieved.’

  ‘The woman?’ Samson had said.

  ‘Secondary; alive is better, dead will do.’

  Riley suppressed a shudder.

  ‘How far ahead will she be when we make the transition?’ Samson said, back in the present. ‘A day? Three?’

  Locke withdrew a knife and bent down to the dusty ground. He drew a line in the dirt and marked one end with the letter T. ‘This is the path Morgan will take to the temple.’ He looked up and then made a cross at its centre. ‘And this is where the second expedition is currently located – along with just under half of our force. And they’re at least seven days behind her, maybe nine.’

  He drew another line with the blade and put a circle on it. ‘This is us,’ – he extended the line but left a gap in its centre, then drew in some more features – ‘once we cross the chasm it’ll put us right behind her. If she’s experienced problems, we may come out ahead of her.’

  Samson sniffed. ‘So how many days, old man?’

  Locke’s jaw tightened at the colonel’s lack of respect. ‘In my opinion, considering Morgan’s abilities and with her two friends slowing her down, she’ll be less than a day in front by the time we rejoin the temple route.’

  Samson appeared satisfied with the answer, but Riley could tell Locke had been riled.

  ‘We break camp at zero one hundred,’ Samson said, scrubbing out the map with a foot. ‘Tell your men.’

  The colonel went to leave, but Locke moved to block his way. ‘Zero one hundred? Are you trying to get my people killed?’

  ‘If my men can keep going,’ Samson said, ‘so can yours.’

  ‘I don’t give a damn about your soldiers,’ Locke said, ‘and clearly neither do you. But if you think I’m going to tell my teams to keep going without at least a few hours’ sleep, you’ve got another thing coming.’

  Samson’s eyes narrowed and Locke held his ground before the colonel’s lip contorted into displeasure and a growl escaped his lips. The animalistic sound coupled with the man’s ferocious glare made Locke take an involuntary step back.

  ‘SED Commander Locke’s position is valid,’ Ophion said, in his stone cold baritone. ‘Dead men do not make good time.’

  ‘We’ve already lost over thirty souls—’ Locke said, his tone placating.

  ‘Forty,’ Riley said, ‘we just had another collapse.’

  Locke looked at him in alarm. ‘SED personnel?’

  Riley shook his head.

  ‘How many more need to die, Colonel?’ Locke said. ‘Another forty, sixty maybe, a thousand?’

  ‘As many as it takes.’

  ‘Then you go on alone,’ Locke said. ‘I won’t help a madman.’

  Samson’s face blanched and he grasped the front of Locke’s uniform. ‘
What did you just call me?’

  Riley, sensing imminent bloodshed, stepped forward to intervene and Samson’s manic eyes homed in on the movement, his expression stopping Riley in his tracks.

  The sound of laughter made Riley turn to see one of Ophion’s lieutenants had removed her sculpted helmet. The Chinese woman was stunningly beautiful and she moved past her leader to trail a beguiling finger up Samson’s bulging arm.

  ‘Maybe the colonel fears lost time,’ she said, her Asian accent soft. ‘Maybe he’s afraid to stop.’

  ‘Unhand me, woman,’ Samson said, ‘or lose the hand.’

  The S.I.L.V.E.R. operative gave a throaty chuckle and let the colonel be, while giving Riley the once-over as she passed.

  Riley followed the woman’s seductive walk as she moved away, before turning his attention back to Samson to see the situation defused.

  Samson pushed Locke aside. ‘You’ve got three hours,’ he said, and stalked off.

  Locke shook his head in relief, gave Riley an amiable slap on the shoulder, then walked away without another word.

  Meanwhile Ophion spoke quietly with the two women, before also taking his leave.

  Riley sighed. Three hours is better than nothing, he decided and made to follow Locke back to his SED colleagues.

  ‘Riley Orton,’ the Chinese woman said, making him pause, ‘we hear you were involved with this Sarah Morgan.’

  Riley didn’t know what to say to this armoured assassin, so he decided to stay quiet.

  The woman approached. ‘Your colonel is a dangerous man, is he not?’

  ‘Much like you, I expect,’ Riley said, looking into the woman’s dark eyes.