“Okay people, let’s suit up.”
The HAWCs removed their clothing, once again pulling on the HAWC armored suits. They checked and then holstered, pocketed, and strapped on their weaponry. Adira and Eli pulled on fatigues and gloves, and also armed themselves, Adira slotting her twin Baraks into her favored v-shape holster at her groin. Throwing spikes and numerous other knives, bombs, and instruments went into various slots and scabbards at her waist.
Sam checked his M203 with the single shot 40mm under-barrel grenade. Sam’s, however, had a modified drum clip attached that held a dozen rounds. He held it up, grinning.
“My All-Areas-Pass.”
Adira frowned. “That dome is over a thousand years old.”
Casey sneered. “Then they better open up when we knock, lady.”
“Communications check.” Alex pushed a small pellet into his ear. The others did the same, and immediately their voices, even whispered, were carried directly onto the occipital bone behind the ear.
“Good.” Alex inhaled the hot, dry air and smiled. “Then let’s go meet the locals.”
The car slid to a stop outside of the Harounieh Dome, its colossal, sandstone structure casting deep shadows and looking more like a fortress than a place of worship.
“Where is everyone?” Sam asked.
“They’re here. Keep your eyes open and stay cool,” Alex said, feeling the presence of multiple bodies crowded close by.
The heavy wooden front doors were thirty feet across with ornate metal hinge brackets. Above were teardrop lintels all carved with magnificent Persian stonework.
Sam went to them and tried the ring handle, and then pushed hard with a shoulder. The doors were locked and didn’t budge.
“That was option one.” He stepped back and lifted one huge boot, the MECH suit’s hydraulic assisted leg levering back and then flicking forward in a blur.
The lock exploded inwards, the wood and ancient metal no match for the punch of the titanium-alloyed steel. Alex went in quick, Casey followed next, then Adira, Eli, and lastly, Sam. They had guns up, and moved like hounds on a scent. The dome inside was a huge shell with numerous doors and arches — a labyrinth, and impossible to explore quickly. Alex knew there were people concealed, waiting for the ambush.
He spun, sensing the danger, just as the stun grenades exploded among them, their throwers lobbing the small cylinders from their places of hiding. The detonations were an explosion of light and sound, and then came the thick fog-like smoke to shroud everything.
“Go to thermal,” Alex yelled, not sure if his words were heard following the near deafening grenade explosions. Cutting through the fog came a patter of gunfire, then a grunt of pain.
Alex sprinted now, darting from side to side. He found Casey, who waved him on. Then he located Adira and Sam, standing back to back in the swirling smoke of the bombs that finally started to clear.
Alex could feel the emptiness of the huge sandstone structure — whoever had been here was gone… and so was Eli.
“Eli!” Adira turned about. “Operative Eli Livnat, report.”
Alex closed his eyes, reaching out, trying to locate the Mossad agent’s presence. After a moment he opened his eyes and walked over to Adira. “He’s gone.”
“Gone?” She continued to search, her teeth momentarily bared. “Gone? Then we find him, before they start their work.”
Alex reached out to grab her arm. “We’ll search, but we have a mission priority, and our clock is ticking. We’ll do what we can, okay?”
She grimaced, and Alex could feel the tension and frustration boiling away inside the woman.
“We’ll do what we can,” he repeated, and then turned away. “Sam, Casey, find me a path.”
Adira and Alex joined Casey and Sam, spreading out, searching alcoves and opening doors, until Casey stood back.
“Yo, boss! Got steps here — and recently used.”
They gathered, peering down. The steps were new, barely a decade old, the smooth, gray concrete incongruous just inside the old stone-lintelled doorway.
From deep down below, Alex could feel the sensation of probing rising up at him in waves. There it was again, the attempt at an intrusion into his mind. “Something, it’s like we’re being… scanned.”
“What by? Motion sensor, thermal read?” Adira asked.
“No, something else, something trying to read us — I think we’re expected.” Alex stared down into the depths of the stairwell.
“Bet it’s booby-trapped. You’d have to be crazy to go down there.” Sam grinned at Casey. “Ladies fir…”
Casey started down, at speed.
Alex groaned and followed, down, and down. The stairs were dimly lit, but solid. There was a smell of fresh concrete, and underlying it, the stink of a charnel house. There were no doors or windows on their way down, and after descending about half a dozen stories, Alex called a halt. He leaned out over the railing. It got darker the lower it dropped.
Sam leaned out with him. “Anything?”
Alex could see down further than the rest, but it seemed to drop for hundreds of feet, and still continued into the void.
“Got to be a level where we can exit soon.”
“Something stinks,” Sam said. “Like a corpse.”
“We’ve been here too long already. I don’t like it,” Adira said, looking over the railing.
Alex also continued to stare down into the darkness. “I can detect a living presence, strong, and an intellect that is watching us carefully, as if there were cameras on every floor.” Alex pulled back. “Let’s go meet them. Franks, back in line.” Alex took the lead. “Eyes out — I think we’re getting close.”
They slowed as they descended, and after another twenty minutes came to the first gleaming white door on a small landing. Alex laid his hand on the handle, and then shook his head.
“Nothing in there.”
When they passed another three, Adira stopped them. She held up the small Geiger counter. “Here — off the scale.” She stepped back. “In there.”
Alex held up a hand to the team, and then spun back to the door, grasping the handle and turning it. It was locked. He gritted his teeth and gripped harder, turning more, until the steel started to groan and bend. After another few seconds, there was the popping sound of spring steel as it reached its tensile barrier. Something clattered inside, and the door opened slowly. Behind the white paint, it was solid and heavy — lead lined.
“Stay here. We don’t have rad-suits.” Alex pushed the door open a little further, and then eased in. Lights came on, but the large space was empty save for half a dozen drum-sized cases. Alex could feel the radiation tickling his body and turned, just as Casey was leaning around the frame, the door wedged open with her boot.
“It’s hot. Stay back.” He should have worn a suit as well, but they needed to see what was inside and he’d just have to rely on his own metabolism repairing any damage to his system… at least for a while.
Alex crossed to the sealed canisters, and then moved to the only one that was open. The ball top was visible, and he recognized it immediately — it was the casing holding a nuclear bomb’s initiator. He sighed, these days nukes were so easy to assemble that a high school kid could put one together if he had the right material, and access to the Internet.
He looked down at the assembly, assessing the design. It was an old model but with new technology. Most likely it’d be a fission blast, as they were the most basic. All that was required was to bring two subcritical masses together to form a supercritical mass. This needed to be done at speed to generate a high-energy collision. Basically, you just needed to make a giant gun, and fire one mass into the other. Alex placed a hand on the sphere, and his fingers tingled. In his mind, he saw how it would work — Uranium-235, fashioned into a bullet, placed at the one end of a long tube with explosives behind it. At the other, another mass of 235, as a target. The casing holds the particle collision together until criticality is reached, and then boom; simple as that.