They waited.
He scanned the horizon to see a blast, a mushroom of fire or smoke. None came. He brought his talkie to his mouth again.
“They are in, sir,” he transmitted.
There was a pause on the other side. The harsh voice came back.
“Stop them now!”
“Copy, sir.”
He waved his men forward. This time they marched low, but faster.
“Admiral, we have a problem, sir.”
Huebner was back in his quarters, alone, considering his options. The call from the soldiers was expected. The rich American was a resourceful man. He had come prepared. But the admiral did not expect that he would be dumb enough to try explosives, although now that he considered the man’s choice, he rather liked if that place caved in and killed them all.
He was waiting to hear such news when his exec called in on the only line that now worked in the ship.
“What is it?” His voice grated like metal.
“We have company, two ships just turned back,” the exec reported. “I think they are coming to find us.”
“Let them come.”
His plan was bigger than Vasquez thought.
The explosion blew the door into the room beyond. As predicted by Olivia, the roof held. Covered in dust, coughing — Anabia Nassif vomited on Nicolai’s cases — they stumbled through the doorway into what turned out to be an engine room. Nicolai got halogen lights out of his case. The brilliance turned the room into day.
“I need water,” Nassif choked. “Somebody help me.”
Peter reached around the man where he crouched on the floor. “Come on, what you need is clean air.”
He dragged the biologist into the engine room where the rest of the crew now were.
“Find a door, or anything that might be important,” Miller said.
There was a humongous engine in the middle of the room. It was old, the steel components thick with stale oil, cobwebbed and laden with thick dust. The walls were lined with odd-looking, humongous pipes than ran the length of the walls. These were stainless steel. Itay Friedman ran his hand over the metals. He confided in Miller who happened beside him, “Such gold, imagine how much this would be worth.”
Miller nodded but it was obvious metals weren’t his interest now.
They found another door at the back. It wasn’t locked. Double doors that swing on whining hinges.
Borodin stood in front of it and waited for the rest.
Ted Cooper joined him.
“What do you think, Professor?” Borodin asked. His voice trembled.
Cooper whispered that he didn’t know.
“Do you wish you hadn’t come along?” Borodin said.
“I wish this place wasn’t here in the first place.”
The rest met them there. Somehow everyone dreaded what awaited them behind that door. If this was the engine room, pondered Olivia, then the next place would be what?
Miller pushed the door slowly.
Cooper whispered, “Here we go.”
The sour smell hit them; this time it was stronger.
The scene before them was like that out of a horror movie. What they found was a high ceilinged room. It looked like a mess hall. The place looked neat, the walls were painted a light green and the chairs and tables arranged properly.
It looked like the former occupants only just stepped out and should be expected back in a moment. Along the walls, close to the ceiling, there were what used to be windows but now dark with earth and ice. There was another double door at the far end, beyond that was darkness.
Olivia rubbed her arms. They felt clammy with cold and goosebumps. No member of the crew moved.
“It feels like we are violating, trespassing.” A shudder racked her body.
“Well…” Ted said.
Miller took a step forward. “We are here, let’s explore.”
They walked around the tables slowly, consciously taking care not to let their bodies touch anything. As though, if they did, the last occupants who sat in those chairs may just appear and… “What happened here?” Olivia asked the dank air.
“They just up and left,” answered Nicolai.
“Doesn’t feel like it,” Olivia disagreed. “If they left in a hurry, how come this place looks like they are still here?”
They all turned around to look at her. It was a spooky place, the whole of the complex. Faces white with fear and terror. The place conjured nightmares and Olivia hoped that they would not have to spend the night inside it.
“Maybe they are still here.”
It was Anabia Nassif. He was standing in the far right of the hall, looking at a blackboard hung on the wall. He stood so still that Miller had to call his name.
“Nassif?”
But the biologist wouldn’t respond. His eyes were glued to the blackboard. Olivia went to the man. From behind him she gawked. Her breath escaped her throat in hoarse exhalation.
“My God,” she muttered. “It looks so fresh, the chalk.”
They all gathered before the board but no one would touch it.
“Can we get out of here, please, before I lose my mind?” said Liam Murphy.
The man was shaken. Olivia brought her Dictaphone to her mouth and recorded.
They got the hell out, and then were looking down the throat of a long tunnel that disappeared into the darkness.
Someone moaned, “Aw what the hell.”
The crew stared in shock. The tunnel dipped into the ground at a steep degree. And it went out of sight. With a pained look on the face of the marine biologist he moaned, “Who designed these things?”
Frank Miller stepped forward, hoping not to slip and fall down the tunnel. He didn’t. He looked back at the rest. He smirked. “Haha, not that bad, huh.”
He then put on his torch. The glare was too dim to light the tunnel all the way. He shook the torchlight. No improvement. “Batteries.” He breathed.
“Guys let’s all put on our torches,” he said.
They all did but everyone’s batteries seem to be going out.
“But what’s down there?” Peter Williams worried. “We can’t just go down there if we can’t see.”
“It’s called an expedition for a reason, Nassif,” Ted scorned and joined Miller, his hands spread to steady himself. “Do what I do, you’ll be fine. Ms. Olivia, are you getting this? Photos, please.”
Eventually they all started down. Touching the walls Olivia noticed that the surface was gritty, as though the builders had sprinkled sand on mucilage. She couldn’t record their progress here, afraid that she might stumble without her hands spread out to hold on to the wall.
Halfway down Miller called out, “There’s a door.”
The procession slowed down. Each member shined his torch down the shaft at a steel door. Thankfully it was unlocked. Miller pushed it open and they entered a large hall. It was dark, empty, and that smell was here as well, very rancid.
The crew wandered around the empty hall. There was no indication whatsoever of what might have been the function of the place. Miller pointed his torch at the ceiling. Nothing but peeling white paint with brown stains in it stared down. The walls were smooth to the touch.
Olivia recorded; her opinion was that this was some assembly area since there were no chairs, nor tables or boards on the wall for meetings. The floor was hard, smooth concrete as well. It was dusty, and that’s all. No pieces of paper or any sign that people used this place.
German efficiency must have required that the scientists or workers mustered here, got accounted for, before ascending up the shaft to the mess hall for meals.