The Eden Factor (Kathlyn Trent/Marcus Burton Romance Adventure Series Book 2) (40 page)

Tony sat across from him,
seemingly unconcerned that the old engine was leaking oil and smoking like a
chimney.  He'd been on chopper rides worse than this. He had brought three men
with him, a seasoned bald Marine that had been on-site since the beginning of
the discovery of the pharaoh’s tomb and a couple of younger guys that looked as
if they had just walked off the farm.

 The cockpit was open and they
could see the pilot trying to lighten the mixture until he found a blend that
would soothe the over-used engine. Dennis wasn't a particularly good flyer and
was white-knuckling it more than usual; the open view to the struggling pilot
didn't help. Deverona and Gary sat in a pair of well-worn seats, gazing out the
windows, trying not to let their anxiety show. Without the added stress of a
bad flight, the situation was grim enough.

As the wind whistled and the
plane lurched, Marcus stood up and made his way to the cockpit. They had been
in the air over four hours, had crossed the bleak golden sands of Saudi Arabia
and were well into Iraq.  He was growing increasingly impatient.

"How much longer?" he
yelled at the pilot over the roar of the wind.

The pilot, an Egyptian
ex-military man, spoke very good English.  He yelled back. "Zubayr should
be coming up very soon. We'll land there."

"But there's no
airstrip."

The man laughed. "We do not
need an airstrip, Dr. Burton. A flat stretch of road will do and the sooner I
set down, the better. I don't like this engine."

It was going to be a rough
landing, no doubt about it. Marcus glanced back at Dennis, pale and tight. He
merely lifted his big shoulders in resignation. "Whatever you say,"
he said. "Let us know when to brace ourselves."

"I will." The pilot
cursed in Arabic as the right engine finally gave its last sputter and cut out
completely.  He hissed and spat as he shut down the fuel lines. "Go sit
down now. Ten more minutes to Zubayr by my guess."

"How many miles out are
we?"

The plane took a huge dive in the
desert thermals and the pilot struggled with the controls. Instead of being
terrified, he laughed. "She is wild today, just like a woman. One must
take control and subdue her, else she will fly out of control." He glanced
back at Marcus. "You would know something of strong women, would you
not?"

"I wish handling my wife was
as easy as handling this plane."

The pilot laughed again, deep and
hearty. "When you bring her home this time, chain her to the chair. That
will keep her from wandering."

Marcus had a mental picture of
Kathlyn chained to a chair and he started to laugh. "She'd pick up the
chair and crack me over the head with it."

"You're a big man, Dr.
Burton," the pilot held up a balled fist. "You know what to do."

"Sure I do. But she'll do it
back."

The plane suddenly veered
strongly to the right. The pilot wrestled to bring it around on course and all
humor was forgotten.

"Go and strap yourself in,
Dr. Burton," the pilot told him. "This will not be easy."

Marcus banged his way back to the
seat on the floor. There were straps fastened to the flooring that were meant
for strapping in cargo, but he fastened them around his big thighs and took
hold of the cargo net bolted to the side of the fuselage. Tony saw what he was
doing and immediately barked to everyone to strap themselves in. Dennis was
holding onto the side of Gary's chair for dear life.

"Damn you, Marcus," he
growled. "If I make it through this, I swear to God you'll be sorry."

Marcus looked at him. "Save
it for Fayd."

Dennis grunted as the plane
bumped violently. "I'm going to kick his skinny ass all over this desert
when I get a hold of him, dragging us all out here and risking our lives."

"You didn't have to
come."

"Hell yes, I did." He
tightened his grip on the chair. "Still no word yet from Mark or
Otis?"

"The cell phone is dead. I
have no idea what's going on."

Dennis started grumbling again as
Marcus looked helplessly at Tony. They had no idea if the S.E.A.L.'s had been
called off, or if Kathlyn and Fayd had come out of the cave, or of anything
else for that matter. They were doing this blind and Tony was especially
uncomfortable. Marcus just wanted his wife back, but with Tony involved, it was
much bigger than that.  In a sense, he felt responsible for all of this. Dr. Fahdlan
had kidnapped Dr. Trent those weeks ago when Tony was supposed to be protecting
them all. So there was a score to settle, and he was ready.

The plane took a final plunge and
seemed to pick up speed as it came in dangerously low over the desert. There
was no knowing if they were going to survive a crash. Marcus began to do
something he hadn't done in a long time; he prayed.

***

"That's the cave?"

"Yes."

"Kind of small for big
winged people, isn't it?"

Fayd simply looked at the
commander. He wasn't going to respond to the comment.  Otis and Mark, lying on
their stomachs in the hot desert sand, were too involved in the sight of the gaping
cave entrance to react. Ellsner looked closely at the cave through his
binoculars.

 "There doesn't seem to be
any activity."

"That's because they're deep
underground," Fayd said. "This small opening is very deceiving. There
is a massive network beneath the surface."

"Like an ant colony?"

"Exactly."

Ellsner removed the binoculars.
He remained supremely skeptical. "I hope to Christ I don't get busted for
some stupid shit going on here," he muttered. Turning to the fully loaded
and prepared men behind him, he flicked his hand. "Russell, Turner,
Whalen; take point. The rest of us will follow."

Otis and Mark moved to stand up,
but the commander stopped them. "No, not you two," he said. "We
work alone."

They weren't happy. "But
you're going to need help," Otis insisted. "You have no idea how many
of those things are down there. While you're fighting them off, someone has to
find Kathlyn and get her out of there."

"We'll do that just
fine," Ellsner said. "That's what we're trained for, Mr. Dison. I
need you three to stay out here and stay out of trouble. If Dr. Trent is in
there, we'll get her out."

Otis looked at Mark, who simply
shook his head. They didn't have much of an argument. The S.E.A.L.s ran past
them, some taking cover at the mouth of the cave while three of them moved
towards the dark, forbidding entrance. Ellsner was about to follow when faint
whine caught his attention. Curious, he turned to see a silver plane in the
distance, flying very low. Smoke streamed from one of the engines and the
closer the plane drew, the darker the smoke. It couldn't have been more than
forty feet off the deck. When it finally screamed overhead, shaking the earth
with its roar, Mark and Otis leapt to their feet.

"It's Marcus!" Mark
began to run, chasing after the plane. "He's here!"

Ellsner shielded his eyes from
the glare of the sun as he watched the plane bank sharply to the left.
"Who's that?"

"Dr. Trent's husband!"

"How do you know?"

Mark was gone. Otis raced past
the lieutenant. "That's the same plane we came in. It has to be him."

Ellsner called off the S.E.A.Ls.
La Coste, Dison and Fahdlan were running like mad after the smoking plane as it
headed in the direction of the village.  He knew the plane wasn't going to
survive the landing intact and he made the decision to recall the S.E.A.Ls and
chase after the plane with the archaeologists. They were going to need help.

"The goddamn plane is going
down," Ellsner muttered to his men. When his subordinates looked curiously
at him, he gestured to the crippled bird. "Well, get after them! Go
help!"

The S.E.A.L.s took off. Ellsner
ran after them. He watched the big silver plane dip lower and lower still,
maintaining a level position, until it finally disappeared from his line of
sight. Almost instantaneously, a huge cloud of dust rose into the crystal blue
sky.  He waited for the fireball to come, but there was none.  He ran faster.

***

Mark was the first one to arrive
at the scene. The plane was twisted to one side, the landing gear on the left
side had broken, and there was dust and smoke everywhere. The smell of fuel was
thick in the air as he ran up to plane, realizing the door was on the crippled
side.  Dashing underneath the fuselage, he could hear Otis shouting behind him,
wanting to know if anyone was still alive.

The door was already popping open
by the time he got there.  The first person he saw was Dennis.

"Goddammit!" Dennis
shouted, falling out of the door and ending up on his butt. "Get me the
hell out of this plane. I'm never going to fly again."

Otis picked him up and pulled him
out of the way as Mark jumped on board. The interior was in disarray, bodies
all over the place. It looked as if someone had shaken the plane like a maraca.
The pilot, still strapped into his chair, seemed to be the only one upright. Marcus
was trying to unwind himself from the cargo net, his right arm precariously
caught.

"Marcus!" Mark rushed
to help him. "Are you okay?"

Marcus grunted as he twisted the
netting. "I think I dislocated my shoulder," he said. "I can't
move my right arm."

Mark concentrated on helping him,
but he looked around to the others as he was doing so. "Is everyone else
okay?"

Before they could answer, the
S.E.A.Ls began to pile on board. Gary had smashed his face against the fuselage
and was sporting a geyser of a bloody nose. Deverona seemed well enough. Tony
was kneeling beside one of his younger men, who had broken an ankle. The kid
had slid all the way across the floor, smashing into the fuselage and snapping
the bone. The other two Marines were okay, looking with surprise at all of the
S.E.A.L.s. Tony didn't look surprised; he looked annoyed.

"Who's your commander?"
he demanded to the nearest seaman.

"I'm the commander."
Ellsner jumped on board and appraised Tony. "Who the hell are you?"

"Master Sergeant Bubalo, United
States Marine Corp," Tony said. "And you?"

"Lt. Commander Ellsner,
United States Navy.”

Marcus thought they both sounded
mighty impressed with themselves.  He could already see the testosterone spasms
coming on.

"Guess you guys didn't get
the word to back off," he said to Ellsner as Mark freed his arm. 
"Where in the hell is my wife?"

Before Ellsner could reply,
Marcus caught sight of Fayd's dark head through the open door. It was enough to
propel him out of his seat. Even though is right arm was dangling, he was left
handed and could still deliver a deadly blow. Tony threw himself at him as he
passed by, grabbing his legs. Ellsner, figuring that for some reason they
needed to stop him, grabbed Marcus around the upper body and realized it was
like trying to wrestle a bull. Several people jumped in to stop Burton's
advance.

"Whoa, Marcus," Tony
said. He caught sight of Fayd, too. "Where's Dr. Trent?"

The question was directed at
anyone who could answer.  "She's back in the cave," Ellsner grunted,
struggling against Burton's strength. "According to her people and Dr. Fahdlan
there, she's being held by...."

He realized he couldn't bring
himself to say it. He didn't want to sound like an idiot in front of a bunch of
Marines. Burton had come to a halt by this time, his face lined with pain and
rage. "By who? What the hell is going on here? Why is Fahdlan here and
where's my wife?"

Fayd heard his name, looking up
to see Marcus in the doorway of the wrecked plane with people hanging on to
him. He could read his demise in the man's eyes.

"Dr. Burton," he said,
almost apologetically. "The cave is full of those creatures. They have
her."

Marcus had zero tolerance for
Fayd's nonsense. "Fahdlan, I'll give you one second to tell me where
Kathlyn is."

"I am telling you,"
Fayd said urgently. "The skeletons we found and the subsequent mummies of
winged humanoids were only the beginning. Those creatures are actually alive in
that cave, Dr. Burton. That's why the villagers are so afraid of it."

Marcus was about to refute him,
but he suddenly remembered what Hassan had told him. It seemed like years ago.
Hell is alive in the cave, he had said. Given the history of the area and their
discovery, was it possible that it was literal and not a metaphor?

"You're trying to cover your
own ass," he growled. "If Kathlyn is dead and you're trying to cover
it up, I'll...."

"If she's dead, then it is
not by my hand," Fayd said. "Those creatures exist, Marcus, and I am
telling you, with God as my witness, that they're holding your wife. The more
we talk about it, the more time we waste in getting her back. These American
military men were about to do that when we saw your plane and came to help
you."