2041 Sanctuary (Let There Be Light) (23 page)

‘Compared to who? Nexus? I get the feeling we’re out of the frying pan and into the fire.’

Riley couldn’t have agreed more. The intensity in the colonel’s eyes – it was hard to pin down, unnatural, feverish, disturbing, to name a few.

Locke tapped his Deep Reach headwear. ‘Battery?’

Riley gave a nod and left to source the item. Walking back the way he’d come, he saw the intelligence director’s lap dog, Agent Myers, leaving the command suite. Riley slowed to a stop beside the glass wall, the high-tech panel opaque, the door just ahead – ajar.

He could hear voices within and edged closer.

‘You saw what I’m dealing with?’ Malcolm Joiner said, the rasp of the intelligence director’s voice unmistakable.

‘I saw,’ Colonel Samson’s gruff voice replied.

‘Can you work with him?’

‘Yes.’

‘You know what you have to do?’

‘I do.’

‘Push them hard, push them fast. Leave behind any who falter. No compromises. Locke and his SED teams will try to slow you down; they’ll also try and protect their precious Sanctuary. Ignore them. Tear Sanctuary apart if you have to – whatever it takes, whatever the cost, that pendant must be retrieved.’

‘The woman?’

‘Secondary,’ Joiner said. ‘Alive is better, dead will do.’

‘The other two?’

‘Of no consequence. If you fail, Colonel, don’t bother coming back.’

‘If I fail, I’ll be the only one coming back.’

‘Is that a threat?’

Heavy footfalls approached and Riley scurried back to hide behind a pillar.

The armoured form of Colonel Samson appeared in the doorway and he stopped to look back into the room. ‘No,’ he said, ‘it’s a promise.’

Chapter Twenty Six

Colonel Samson disappeared down the corridor and Riley stayed where he was until the tall figure of the GMRC Intelligence Director emerged, moments later. Malcolm Joiner paused and Riley ducked his head back, holding his breath, until he heard footfalls fading away in the opposite direction. Relinquishing his hiding place, Riley stood in the middle of the corridor, the words he’d just been privy to ringing in his mind.
Alive is better, dead will do
. Thinking of Sarah imprisoned was one thing; he’d almost resigned himself to the fact, although, he secretly hoped she’d escape and make it to wherever she was heading.
But dead?
The thought made him nauseous. With a sense of dread he continued on his way, the feeling clinging to him like the cloying hands of disease.

♦

Sanctuary’s Exploration Division heaved with personnel and the circular command centre at its heart hummed with activity. Holographic computer screens and mapping systems glowed bright, while huge sweeping wallscreens displayed a mind-boggling array of data.

Two large areas stood on either side of this building within a building; one was a large staging area and the other the shuttle bay itself, which all teams would pass through on their journey into Sanctuary Proper.

Since the debriefing, final preparations had been made and Riley stood on a platform in the command centre, next to the staging area where a few thousand people had congregated, the babble of voices a collective wave of noise. Outside the SED’s main complex, in the massive atrium which enclosed it, large screens had been erected for the thousands more Special Forces commandos who were also primed for deployment.

Riley gazed out at the men and women ready for departure. Many were SED employees. Every Deep Reach survey team had been prepped and primed in readiness for the off, their high-tech helmets in hand and specialised climbing harnesses strapped on. Interspersed amongst these teams were the formidable forms of the SFSD, Terra Force, their amour, helmets and weaponry an imposing sight for those that witnessed it.

At the front and off to one side, the small number of S.I.L.V.E.R. operatives stood resplendent in their armour plate chrome cladding, their glittering panels a stark contrast to the dull greys, greens and browns of the commandos close by. Unlike their U.S. Army counterparts, Ophion’s mercenaries held a wide variety of weapons, including wicked curved swords sunken into moulded back-plates; strange rifles, each customised to the owner’s preference; and clusters of strange-looking gadgetry attached to various parts of the body. Riley’s fear for Sarah’s life, already high, climbed higher with each passing minute. This wasn’t a simple seek and capture as they’d been led to believe, it was a full-scale military led assault, its target: a single, unarmed woman in the company of her two friends in the vast darkness beyond.

Locke joined him on the raised dais. ‘Nearly show time.’

Riley glanced up to see Malcolm Joiner looking out of the control centre’s uppermost window, his posture imperious, his dark glasses covering his all-seeing deadpan eyes. Either side of him agents of the GMRC stood at his beck and call, ready to action anything he commanded. Also nearby was General Stevens, looking anything but at ease, his trademark cigar absent.

‘So,’ Locke said, ‘you say they’re only after the pendant?’

Riley looked at his superior. ‘That’s what he said.’

‘Whatever it is or does, it must be important to go to all this trouble over.’

‘Does?’

‘It must be Anakim tech of some sort,’ Locke said, ‘that’s the only thing that could create this kind of response. Even if Morgan compromised the existence of the Subterranean Programme, the fallout could easily be contained on the surface; easier than this, anyway.’

‘All the shuttles are ready,’ a voice said.

They looked round as a large bearded man climbed up beside them, his barrel chest and massive arms filling his oversize Deep Reach uniform. Following Cora’s death the huge, bald-headed Jefferson Church had been promoted to deputy team leader of Deep Reach survey team Alpha Six; Riley’s team. The lead archaeologist and skilled climber was a comforting sight at even the most tense of times.

‘Have you seen Colonel Samson?’ Locke said.

Jefferson shook his head. ‘I hear they call him the Reaper. I tell you what; I wouldn’t want someone like that after me. Not many men scare me, but there’s something wrong about that guy, something in the eyes.’

Riley revised his previous thought on his friend; he wasn’t a comfort at all.

Jefferson handed Locke a microphone and the speaker system in the chamber buzzed to life.

Locke passed his helmet to Riley and stepped to the fore. ‘Quieten down!’ he said. ‘QUIET!’

A flurry of whispers dropped to silence.

The explorers and troops inside, and surrounding, the SED building waited for him to begin. The SED commander paced to his right and looked down at the floor before facing front. ‘Fellow Sancturians,’ he said, ‘many of you will have heard these words before, but I’ll say them again to those amongst the Special Forces who’ve never ventured beyond the base’s walls. All of you will have been briefed on this mission and its importance. We have been told speed is of the essence, but in our fair Sanctuary, speed can get you dead, speed
will
get you dead. To all the U.S. servicemen listening to me now, trust in those that lead you, trust in the SED and the Deep Reach teams to keep you on the safest paths, the surest routes. Keep to the path and you will return, stray from that path and you may pay for it with your life. Sanctuary is one of the most dangerous places on the planet. A wrong step or misplaced jump and you could be on a one-way trip to the centre of the Earth, thirty miles down to hell.

‘Normally our expeditions focus on unearthing Anakim sites and analysing ancient burial grounds, which exposes us to all manner of toxins and potential biohazards. Some may think that because this is a seek and capture, those dangers don’t apply. Those people are wrong. Dig around at your peril; if it looks dangerous, it probably is. Make sure all visor gauges and detectors are checked regularly. Seismometers and structural stability maps should be consulted at all times. Take heed of hazard symbols and warning messages. Sanctuary’s composition limits long range transmissions, so stay in radio contact with your team-mates. If you find yourself in trouble, call for help; egos will get you dead, and get you dead quick.

‘Due to the nature of this trip, emergency response teams will be unavailable. However, due to the number of personnel in the field, help will never be far away. Some of you will have noticed my unusual attire,’ he looked down at his SED field uniform, ‘and that’s because I’ll be out there keeping an eye on you all—’

A murmur of surprise rippled through the Deep Reach teams.

‘—so rest assured I will do everything in my power to keep you all safe.’ Locke looked at his watch. ‘We are a go for deployment; each team will be called to the shuttle bay via a visor message. Godspeed and good luck!’

♦

In a ready room reserved for officers, Colonel Samson listened to the SED leader’s speech while attaching his armour a piece at a time to his newly acquired exoskeleton. Completing the task, Samson secured weapons and equipment, before striding out through the command centre and onto the stage with his helmet in one hand. Locke passed him the microphone, which he lifted to his mouth.

‘Ten-hut!’ An officer shouted and every soldier snapped to attention.

Samson paused, looking out at the people waiting to hear his words. ‘My name is Colonel Samson. Most of you won’t know me. Those of you that do may wish you didn’t. I suffer no fools. I demand obedience and I take no prisoners. Cross me and you’ll wish you hadn’t.’ Samson pointed to Locke. ‘This man says speed will get you dead. I say the fear of death makes you alive.’

He gestured to someone in the control centre and a cluster of lasers produced a holographic scene on the stage. Sarah Morgan appeared, acting out a fight with another SED employee, the deceased Cora Islanovich. The image switched to Cora’s dead body, arched and broken, eyes staring and mouth agape in agonised terror.

Samson approached the image of the corpse. ‘Our target is a woman, a murderer, a thief and a foreigner,’ – the image changed to footage of Sarah with her two friends – ‘who has compromised the security of this United States Subterranean Base. Commander Locke is not leading this mission, I am, and what I say goes. These fugitives have a ten day head start. I’m gonna push you hard, then I’m gonna squeeze you till your eyes burst and your veins bleed.’ He walked through the hologram. ‘I say we hunt down these terrorists and bring them to justice, American justice!’

Samson bared his teeth and held his helmet in the air. ‘No depth too difficult, no height too great!’

The thousands of Terra Force soldiers raised their helmets and guns as one and roared, ‘NO DEPTH TOO DIFFICULT, NO HEIGHT TOO GREAT!’

‘Honour and country!’ Samson shouted

‘OOYAH!’ came the response, the Terra Force battle cry reverberating through the SED and beyond.

Samson pulled on his helmet and pressed a button to send its visor and mask snapping into place. A green glow emanated from the eye-like sculpturing and an army of green eyes blinked into existence in response. The scent had been laid. Weapons were locked and loaded. The hunt was on.

Chapter Twenty Seven

Sirens wailed and lights flashed. Inch by inch, foot by foot, the metal shuttle bay floor retracted, its dense star-shaped points disappearing into the concrete surround to reveal a gaping oval shaft beneath. Two hundred feet across and cutting down into the Earth’s crust, this entrance to the underworld descended into darkness.

A loud boom announced the end of the process and the first air-shuttles crept into position. Riley sat at the rear of the lead vehicle, while up front the bulky form of Colonel Samson was flanked by his fellow officers. Riley’s helmet clicked back onto his headrest and his Deep Reach helmet visor lowered into place, its plethora of ice-blue dials and gauges populating the interior with a healthy glow.

‘T minus fifteen seconds to launch,’ SED Command informed them through their helmets.

The air-shuttle twisted on its track and Riley’s view spun one hundred and eighty degrees upside down. Suspended above the sheer drop, Riley sagged against his restraints, pulled down by gravity’s invisible embrace. Below, the huge hole disappeared into nothing.

SED Command spoke again. ‘T minus six seconds—’

‘Here we come, Sarah,’ Riley murmured, ‘ready or not.’

‘—three, two, one – launch.’

The clamps released, rockets fired, and they flew down into the pit, their passage a streak of fire in the black. Destination: Sanctuary Proper.

Chapter Twenty Eight

‘If you think I’m going back there, you’re crazier than I thought.’

‘Who’s going to lure it in?’

‘Me.’

‘And you think you can outrun it? It can reach sixty miles an hour; it’d be on you in a second.’

‘As long as we find the right area it’ll work, trust me.’

Trish stood up. ‘I’m sorry, Sarah, this seems too much like …’

‘Like what?’

‘A one-way ticket,’ Jason said.

‘If that’s how it turns out, so be it; at least you two will have a fighting chance.’

‘What?!’ Trish’s expression grew fierce. ‘What kind of plan is that?!’

‘Do either of you have a better one?’

Trish and Jason swapped looks.

‘I didn’t think so. It’s either this or slow starvation. The choice is yours.’

Jason paled. ‘There must be another way.’

‘There’s none. This is the only way.’

‘Then I should be the one to lure it in. You’re our navigator and Trish is too slow. I’ll do it.’

‘NO!’ Trish whacked him.

‘Shhh!’ Sarah said. ‘It could still be following us for all we know.’

Anxious, Trish looked behind, but when the phantom light failed to appear, her mood switched back to anger and she jabbed a finger at Sarah. ‘This is bullshit and you know it.’ She turned on Jason. ‘How can you go along with this? It’s madness!’

Jason put his hands on her shoulders. ‘Look, I don’t like it. God, I really don’t like it, but what other choice do we have?’