“Hiding,” Yang said, turning to stand square on to Rhino.
“Someone cracking under pressure are they?” Casey muscled in, getting between Yang and Rhino.
“Lighten up, all of you.” Alex pulled them apart. “We’re all wire-tight right now. But we’ve got to stick together.” He stared hard in the direction the men had disappeared, straining to hear or get a sense of them. His neck tingled from a feeling of imminent danger that refused to materialize. “We stay alive, find the sub. But first… we look for our missing men. Everyone stay close,” he said, looking towards Jennifer and the two Chinese scientists. “Rhino, you and I will take point, Jackson, at rear.” He looked at Casey, and then nodded at Yang. She understood immediately, and got close to him.
Alex waved them on. “Let’s go.”
“I’m also at front,” Aimee said quickly.
“So am I,” said Cate, pushing past the others.
“Hey?” Casey grabbed for her, but Alex waved her back. He wanted Franks on Yang. He had a feeling that taking orders from an American hadn’t been in the man’s job description. And if he got a chance, he might take the opportunity to rebalance the power dynamics by putting a bullet in the back of Alex’s head.
CHAPTER 51
Yang felt the female HAWC at his shoulder. She was of no threat to him; he knew he could disable or kill her whenever he wished. His primary threat was the leader of this Special Forces group. But he was also his biggest opportunity.
He bristled at the thought of his missing men, and now needed to rely on Soong Chin Ling and Shenjung Xing for support. He had reservations about their patriotism, but he knew a quiet word reminding the pair of what lay in store for them back home, if they failed to remember where their true allegiances lay, would bring them back into line.
Yang inhaled the humid air of the tunnel, and watched the back of Alex Hunter. Following close to him was Dr. Aimee Weir. Perhaps this was why Yang had been chosen to lead the mission. It was payback or an opportunity for redemption for the failed mission to procure the child — Joshua Weir.
Their own top secret Advanced Soldier Program had stalled, stuck in a cul-de-sac of producing giants like Mungoi, but not being able to complement their strength with intellect. Their soldiers were little more than two-legged battering rams and what they needed was something better.
Yang continued to watch Alex Hunter. Where they were stalled, the Americans had succeeded with this man who was known as the Arcadian. With his own eyes Yang had witnessed the ease with which Hunter had defeated Mungoi, making the big PLA soldier, their most advanced breed, seem like an outdated model within seconds.
He felt his spirits lift. If this was an opportunity for redemption, he would seize it with both hands. He would secure the submarine for his country, and also the body of the Arcadian. He turned again, and smiled at the stocky female HAWC. She sneered in return. His smile broadened — he was right where he needed to be — on his way to the submarine, and now embedded within the enemy camp.
He sped up as he remembered an ancient proverb: patience is power. He could wait, and he would be ready to act.
Soong and Shenjung followed next, just in front of Jennifer, and Yang trawled behind them, with Casey on his shoulder.
“This way.” Rhino led them up a mound of broken rock that suddenly turned into age-worn steps. Even now it was clear that these had not been rough-hewn risers, but once were carved of something shining and smooth. The stumps of broken balustrades were of a dark stone that was ebony black, and could have been the finest polished marble. The stairs themselves were soft, carpeted by thick mosses that squelched as they stepped up on them.
They next crossed a wide balcony and then entered a curved tunnel. Overhead there were once polished lintel stones, each with their own intricate carving of a face with a different expression, now all with beards of lichen that they needed to duck beneath.
Alex stopped before one wall, looking along its length, feeling the sense of misery and dismay in the images portrayed. He exhaled slowly and then waited for Aimee to catch up. He motioned with a nod. Aimee followed his gaze and shined her flashlight along the carved relief, exhaling softly.
“An old friend,” she said.
“More like the ancient enemy,” Alex responded.
The coiled mass with an unblinking eye at its center dominated the wall. The Aztlantic carving style was a mix of raised glyphs, faces, but now the once benevolent visages were twisted in horror, fear, or pain.
Alex tilted his head back, staring upwards, feeling like he was seeing through the miles of stone to the ancient city he knew was buried just below the snow and dark ice. Many years ago, he had encountered a similar tableau to the one on the wall, but the scenes then were of the land, sunlight, and happier times. Now, down here, a darkness had not only permeated the lives of these forgotten people, but had even influenced their art.
“Wow.” Cate joined them, her mouth hanging open as she stared at the glyphs. “Amazing, isn’t it? It’s like the pre-Columbian stone artisan work, but different somehow. Not more primitive, just… different.” Cate walked quickly to the wall, laying her hands on some of the images. “I wish I could understand them.”
“Possibly the most ancient formal language ever known. A linguist who was with us, Professor Matt Kearns, said the Aztlantian words might even be the skeleton key — the root language for all languages.”
“And those who stayed in the city above, just sat there and froze in the dark.” Cate exhaled through compressed lips.
“No.” Aimee turned to Cate. “We found evidence in the city above, where the orthocone managed to find its way in, snaking in through cracks and holes, and snatching the remaining inhabitants in the dark. It would have been a nightmare.”
Rhino grimaced. “Like with Parcellis. This thing can get in anywhere, and it’s smart, been fucking with us the whole time.” He lifted his light to the coiling mass. “I bet that’s what happened to them.”
“We don’t know that for sure,” Alex said. “The creatures, these Kraken species, have made a home here for countless millions of years. And the Aztlantians must have been here for centuries as well. These structures take time to plan and build. They could never have created them if they were being constantly attacked. Somehow, they learned to coexist.”
“Maybe you’re right on that part.” Cate stepped back from the wall, shining her light along its entire length. “Everything, every image; it’s all about the beast.”
Aimee sighed. “The mighty Aztlan people, rulers of the world, before even the Egyptians lifted their pyramids, or the Persians built Persepolis. Who worshiped the sun, and the wind, and the sea, and were suddenly forced to believe in only one god, this thing, this monster in the dark.”
“Not just their god, it became their everything.” Alex hurried them on.
Aimee wandered along the wall, shining her light up and down. “Maybe they struck a bargain?”
Rhino grunted. “Striking a bargain usually means they had something to offer each other. Safety for the people down here, sure, but what would the monster get out of it? Other than free food, I mean.”
“Let’s keep moving.” Alex led them along the tomb-dark corridor. The air was thick with damp, and other than their breathing, there was near total silence.
“Look.” Rhino shined his light at the ground. At the edge of a puddle of murky water, there were boot marks in the moss. “HAWC boot; Blake’s, heading this way.”
Alex nodded. “All going in one direction — and no one coming back. Means if they’re anywhere, it’s still up ahead.” He turned to his HAWCs. “Be ready; they may have walked into a trap.”