by Sean Salazar
After a minute of meditating away his fears, he opened his eyes, tightened his abs, dug his boots in, and reached for the crack. In one confident swing, beyond his reach, he grabbed it and dug his fingers in. He stretched beyond his limits, which was normal. Holding tight, he glanced up at the major to confirm that he had the right crack and he did. Then he realized that he had forgotten to remove his gloves. Free-climbing with gloves was crazy. He let go and swung back. He pulled his glove off with his teeth and stuffed it into his belt. He did the same with the other and reached again for the same spot. Much better, he concluded, pulling himself closer to the crack. Next, he had to move his feet, which raised the next maddening issue. How are these guys climbing so well with boots? It was hard enough with flexible climbing shoes but with solid and firm boots the only way he would know that he didn’t have a firm toe grip is if he actually slipped—which made his finger grip that much more vital. Now that he convinced himself that he was crazy, he continued moving laterally one careful motion at a time. The green hue that the night-vision scope created was okay, but unnerving.
Al continued climbing up and over until he heard the major say, “Over here.”
That broke Al’s self-confidence debate with himself, and he looked up. The major was now about fifteen feet above him and to the right. He had his light out and was aiming it at the rock face. As Al got closer he saw that the major had perched his right foot onto a rock that was protruding out a few inches. Al made his way over to it. He embarrassingly couldn’t figure out how the major got where he was so he navigated an alternate climbing route that brought him a few feet below where the major’s left foot was.
He glanced up and saw Harrison skillfully climbing directly at the major. “How the hell did he do that,” Al whispered. He moved over a couple more feet and was now below the major. He grabbed the rocky ledge and with both hands pulled to the right. Now he just had to scale up to see what had the major’s interest. He reached, found a small crack, dug his fingers in and pulled. Once he was at eye level, or as close as he could get to where the major had his light, he clicked up his eye piece.
It took a second for his eyes to focus on the illuminated rock but he could clearly see writing.
“As far as I can determine,” Major Reeves said, “this is crazy.”
“Why would anybody put this way up here?” Harrison asked.
“I was wondering the same thing,” Al answered, glancing at him. He still could not figure out how that guy climbed there so quickly. “How long have you been rock climbing?”
“You’re saying that you encountered the same thing in Lebanon?” the major asked, interrupting him.
Al looked closely at the writing, “Not exactly, but the same department.”
“So,” Major Reeves said, “with what you know, can you determine what to do next, or how to access the mountain?”
“There is no way to tell in the dark what they were up to when they put that here.” As he said that, he had an idea and pulled out his PDA. “Take a picture with this,” Al said, handing it over to him.
The major grabbed it, aimed, and took a picture. The flash was bright and temporarily blinded Al. Hopefully none of the Brotherhood goons noticed it. The major handed it back and Al sent it and the other picture to Ed—wherever he was. He then slowly typed a message with his thumb to translate it and get it back to him ASAP.
“I just sent that to Ed, and if he is above ground somewhere, he will get it right away.”
“If he only knew what we were in the middle of,” the major responded.
“You mean clinging to a cliff in the middle of the night with a freezing wind whipping around?” What Al really wanted to say was Ed was most likely sitting in a warm room with the hot and exotic Natalie Sikorsky, working on translating Holy Script.
Moments later, Ed returned his message and Al read it,
“The Gods have not left,
or,
The Gods are still here.”
The major shifted positions and took a second look at the writing, “That’s no help.”
As the wind picked up briefly, Al laughed, “That’s what I would normally say when they read it to me. But, believe me, it means something.”
Harrison whispered, “This signal is getting stronger.”
Al glanced down at him and noticed something he had missed. Sergeant Harrison was standing on a long, smooth crevice. He looked closer at it and followed it to the side. A small rectangular ledge extended laterally several feet. He realized he didn’t see it earlier during his self-doubt session and said angrily, “That’s how you did it.”
“Excuse me, sir?” Harrison asked.
“Oh, nothing,” Al answered. He then repositioned himself as close as he could to the rocky face, relieving as much pressure on his fingers as he could. He pulled out his small light, clicked it on, and aimed it where the man’s feet were. “No shit,” Al said.
Harrison glanced down, “What?”
“The ledge you’re standing on is definitely man-made,” Al said, aiming his light up to see what he was holding onto. “Shit,” Al said again. The light had illuminated the top part of a rectangular stone cross beam like a cap over a monument. It protruded out from the rock about three to four inches, just enough to use as a footing. “I can’t believe I missed that.”
Harrison began to notice it too now that the light was on it and said over the wind, “I am directly in front of something.”
“Hang on,” Al said as he slowly scaled back over. Carefully he reached and stepped ahead to get a footing on the lower beam. Once there he was directly next to Harrison and grabbed the upper beam. He turned his light on just as the wind was picking up. He could now tell what it was.
“It’s a doorway!” Harrison exclaimed.
“Yep,” Al responded. His forearm burned as he held on tightly while he analyzed the doorway with his light. It consisted of one large six- or seven-foot by two-foot triangular stone beam on top. It had a supporting vertical stone post on each side and one longer beam on the bottom, acting more like a ledge. The only difference that he could tell was that the two side beams were each made of two equal-size pieces, whereas the bottom was one solid piece. Both were sticking out roughly three to four inches, which was just enough to hold onto. The top cap stuck out maybe an extra inch or two, probably making it easier to see if someone was looking.
“This is not exactly what I expected,” the major commented.
Harrison used his free hand to aim his light on the top piece. “There is writing in the middle.”
Al hadn’t noticed it before and instead of paying too much attention to the writing, he quickly took a picture and forwarded it to Ed. He now focused on the rough stone between the beams, blocking the way in.
“What do you think this is?” Major Reeves asked.
Al spent a few more seconds analyzing it and answered, “This is definitely meant to be an entrance. The stones were deliberately stacked.”
“Why put it way up here?” Harrison inquired, repositioning himself.
“Ha,” Al answered seriously. “I gave up trying to figure out why these guys do what they do. You ought to see their freaking underground cities.” Al caught himself, and decided that this was not a good time to be a smart ass. “Oh, I’m sorry, you guys obviously know about that?”
“We’re not as enlightened as you think we are,” the major said.
Al pulled out his tunnel finder, “So that makes us even.” He turned it on, waited for the screen to light up and placed it on the rocky doorway. It sounded off with a, Beep.
“And?” the major asked.
“Seven inches,” Al said, pulling it off. He then pulled out four explosive strips.
“What are you planning?”
“Gonna blow it open, why?”
The major moved to the side, “Okay.”
Al placed the strips in a triangular pattern he found worked best over rocks. “Never leave the Hobbit hole without them,” Al
said in a low tone, thinking about the SAS hideout under the tree trunk. When he finished attaching the detonation wires he motioned for Harrison to move out of the way and he climbed to the side. Al then made his way back to the right of the structure and found a solid spot to hold onto. He wasn’t accustomed to blowing out the sides of mountains and wasn’t sure how to gauge the distance he needed in order not to be knocked off the cliff. Typically, he would only be concerned about flying debris, or potentially caving in a tunnel, which he had done many times, but this was a little different. If he hit the detonation button, would he trigger a waterfall of rocks and boulders to crash down on them, knocking the three of them off the face?
Al re-checked his position and figured he was far enough away as long as the rocks blasted outwards.
After a few more seconds of thinking about it, he checked the other two men to see if they were far enough away when the major said, “The blast will go completely outward; very little will come down.”
“I was just going to ask you about that,” Al replied. “Blowing in five, four, three, two,” he placed his finger on the button. “One,” he turned his head and pressed it.
The explosion was not what he expected. It was almost a muffled crack and hardly shook the rocky part he was holding onto. After the echo in the distance dissipated, Al and the major both made their way over to investigate.
Al grabbed the side beam as support to swing himself around. He aimed his light inside the roughly three-foot-wide hole. It was rough but large enough to climb through. Surprisingly, other than heat from the blast, very little dust and smoke was visible.
The major already had unhooked his rope and backpack and climbed inside before Al decided it was safe.
“Be my guest,” Al said, grabbing the inside rocky edge and unhooking his rope. He aimed his light inside to examine the tunnel. The walls and ceiling were extremely rough. and were about five feet in height, enough to crouch down in.
Harrison climbed in next, checked his instrument and said, “The signal just increased by two-fold.”
At that moment, Al noticed a message from Ed. He read it,
“WE HAVE TRAPPED THE GODS HERE.”
“Does that tell you anything?” the major asked.
“Not really,” Al answered.
“The Gods are trapped here?” Harrison asked, puzzled.
Al shrugged and shook his head. “Maybe the Gods were up here having a party and got trapped.”
Harrison nodded and most likely was smiling behind his face mask.
The major moved back to look over the edge of the cliff. He spoke briefly into his lip microphone and then turned his light inward. He began moving deeper inside. “The stronger signal means we are in a direct path.”
“Is that possible, being inside a mountain?” Al asked.
“Or,” Harrison said, “it’s coming from an extremely powerful source.”
Al let go of the top ledge, entered the rocky hole, and turned his light inward. “Good point,” he said, and began following Reeves.
After about forty feet, the major held up his hand in a ‘slow down’ motion. “Drop-off,” he whispered.
Al crouched down next to him and peered into the empty space ahead. A large hole was directly in front of them, covering the width of the tunnel. Al got on his belly and crawled to the edge, aiming his light down. He immediately noticed heat coming out of it as a wave of it hit his face. He had noticed the heat earlier when he entered the tunnel but assumed it was from the blast. The heat source, he concluded, was from something else. As he examined the hole further, he noticed the sides were smooth and extended down well beyond the light’s reach and looked more like a shaft. For some reason, he expected that. He then twisted around, aiming the light up, and the shaft continued beyond the light.
“Look,” the major said, holding his light straight ahead.
Al twisted back around, added his light to the major’s and what he saw looked like some type of vertical groove. He then saw the same on both of the sidewalls.
The major spoke up, “If I’m not mistaken, this looks suspiciously like an elevator shaft.”
Al shot his light back down, “You may be right.” He then reached up and rubbed his hand over the top of the tunnel. It was rough at the edge leading into the hole. “I think whoever carved out this tunnel punched a hole into this elevator-like shaft after it was built.”
“But why?” the major replied. “This is a little more than I expected.” He glanced back at Harrison, “The signal?”
“Almost off the chart,” he answered, looking down at the device.
Suddenly a violent explosion occurred behind them. Rock and debris flew inward, striking everywhere. Another explosion followed, shaking the tunnel and causing chunks of stone to cave in on them. Smoke and heat rushed into the space. Al rallied his senses, grabbed for his weapon and chambered a round. He reached behind him and felt Harrison, who was lying face down. He had absorbed the impact of some of the flying debris.
“You okay?” Al asked.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he answered, slowly getting up.
Al aimed his light at where the major had been. He wasn’t there. Al quickly crawled over to the edge. He looked down and was relieved to see Major Reeves hanging on for dear life. Just before Reeves’s fingers gave out, Al slammed his hands onto the major’s, then grabbed his wrists and yelled, “Hold on!”
“That thought had occurred to me,” the major yelled back, struggling to hold on.
Harrison then reached down, grabbed the major and pulled him up. After a couple of attempts, they managed to get him over the edge. All three of them began coughing from the smoke and dust as they relaxed for just a moment.
Major Reeves rolled over, “Thanks, boys.”
Al sat up and aimed his light back towards the entrance, illuminating a pile of rocks. “Is getting trapped in tunnels my fucking life story or what?”
Harrison examined the blocked tunnel. As he did, his back was facing Al, exposing bloody spots soaking through his clothes. “You’re hit, man,” Al said.
“I’m fine, sir,” he answered, turning around. “But we are definitely trapped.”
The major sat up, wiped the dirt off his hands and coughed, “I think they found us.”
“It would appear so,” Al answered.
Then sounds came echoing through the rocks. They all looked at the rock pile, listening. After a few seconds, Al asked, “Could that be your team here that fast?”
The major seemed to think about his answer for a moment and answered, “Those aren’t our men. It would take twenty minutes to have a chopper drop a team at the top of the crest and then another twenty minutes to scale down and blow the entrance. And...the problem with that theory is two-fifths of my entire team are here.”
“Aw shit,” Al said and then asked urgently, “how much rope do we have?”
“About a hundred meters,” Harrison answered.
“What are you thinking?” the major asked.
“Okay, that’s about three hundred feet.” Al glanced down the shaft. “We’re going down.”
“You sure about that?”
Al pulled the extra rope off his pack and tossed it off the edge. “I don’t know about you boys, but I have had several wild shootouts with the Brotherhood and I always seem to be on the losing side. Besides, I can almost guarantee you that there is another exit down there. And if nothing else,” he added, wiping the dirt off his forehead, “we can take the elevator back up.”
The major also pulled the rope off his harness, “Okay, let’s do it.”
They tied their ropes together and attached one end to a sturdy rock. Al then tied the rope around his waist and leaned back into the hole. This was always the most unnerving part of a descent, relying on the rope not to give way. He had learned over the years that the rope never failed you; it was some dumb ass not securing it correctly.
He took his first jump and repelled six to seven feet down. His feet
firmly planted onto the smooth shaft wall and he pushed back, descending farther. He found it slippery but was able to get a good footing. He paused and looked up. They both had their lights aiming down at him and the major yelled, “When you find the elevator, send it up for us.”
“Very funny,” Al replied. He then pushed his feet away from the wall, pulled his right hand away from his body, removing friction from the rope, and continued descending. He estimated with each push he dropped ten to fifteen feet and, at that rate, he would have about twenty push-offs before his rope ended.
On the fifteenth push, he paused and glanced up. He could hardly see the lights above and secured the rope with his left hand. With the other hand, he pulled out his light and aimed it below him. The shaft continued going down with no sign of ending. He stowed the light and pushed away from the wall. He dropped another fifteen feet, raised his boots and hit the wall. He repeated each push, calculating each drop, watchful not to run out of rope. Aiming his light down, the shaft continued to drop into the heated abyss but then, directly below him, his eye caught something different.
A black shadow in the shape of a large square was a few feet below him. He pushed away and swung outward from the wall to give him a better look. He immediately noticed the groove in the center of the wall stopped at the top of the shadow. It was definitely an opening. He put the light between his teeth and moved his left hand away, allowing the rope to slowly slide through. He slowed his pace as he approached the opening and stopped when his boots reached the top part. He secured the rope, clicked off the light, and listened. No lights or sounds were coming from inside, so he lowered himself in the dark until his boots hit the bottom of the opening. He again secured the rope and pulled out his light as he dangled there. Holding the light straight into the opening, he clicked it on.
He fully expected to see a roughly carved-out tunnel going straight ahead, like the one they had come through, but instead saw what looked like the inside of a monastery. The floor was made of square marble tiles and directly ahead he could see walls.