As if on cue, his ears picked up the faint beating of helicopter rotors. It was low pitched and vibrated gently, seeming to emanate from within his body rather than from a machine flying in from miles away. As it grew in volume, a few other students picked up on it.
“Hey, shut up for a sec — you guys hear that?” one of the students asked. Everyone went silent, and only the crackling of the fire in front of them could be heard.
Another few seconds passed, and another student heard the noise. “Is that a helicopter? Out here?”
Dr. Fischer was frowning — he probably couldn’t hear it yet, Gareth thought — but he was focusing intensely on the surrounding forest.
Suddenly, Dr. Fischer’s eyes opened wider and Gareth stood, acting out his role. “It definitely is. Weird; I wonder where they’re headed?”
Gareth stood up from the rock he was using as a makeshift seat and excused himself from the group. He walked to one of the trucks in their three car caravan and opened the passenger-side door. He reached below the seat, squeezing his arm into the gap between the truck’s floor and the bottom of the chair, and felt around.
He found his prize and slowly withdrew his hand. The dome lights in the truck illuminated the small device, and Gareth took a look at it.
It was black and silver, plastic with some metal components. A small rubber antenna extended from one side of the rectangular box, directly above a tiny button. He pushed the button, held it, and waited for a faint LED light to flash red once.
Done. It was amazing what technology could do. The tiny GPS tracking device was now activated, and the inbound helicopter would stop tracking the archeology team’s expected location within a grid of longitudinal coordinates and begin tracking their actual location. Their general coordinates had been posted on the university’s internal boards months ago, but even Dr. Fischer was unsure where exactly their hunt for the Russian team would take them.
For that reason, the Company needed someone on the ground.
Gareth Winslow was brought on the team to provide IT and administrative support — a part of archeology that hadn’t existed a few years prior, when much of the data collected was shipped off and documented elsewhere. Using his interest in archeology and his undergraduate degrees in Computer Science and Technology Systems, he had assisted in building a suite of software tools that were helpful to archeologists, geologists, and geographers.
And since he was the one who had written the program, he was the perfect grad student to operate it. The recruitment interview with Dr. Fischer was short and sweet — they shook hands, Dr. Fischer asked if he was interested in helping out, and Gareth was in.
It was only after they’d started planning the trip that Gareth was approached by the Company. A shady guy in a black suit showed up at his apartment one day, knocked on his door, and gave him a check.
It was a larger paycheck than any Gareth had seen his name on before, and he hadn’t done anything to earn it.
“There’s another one just like it after your trip,” the man said.
“For what?” He knew that everyone had their price, but he wasn’t about to kill someone.
“Don’t worry, it’s nothing illegal. The Company deals in information, and we’ve set up similar deals with plenty of other digs and research projects around the world.”
“And what company is that?” Gareth asked.
“I told you — the Company.” Gareth nodded once, still consumed by the amount of money on the check. He interpreted the answer to mean he wasn’t supposed to ask about it again.
“Okay, that’s fine. I can live with a mysterious benefactor. But why not just go to the university? Or the expedition lead, Dr. Fischer?”
“We can’t have a legal battle if there’s anything of value found. You understand that. Plus, we need the expedition to run as smoothly as possible, without any hiccups along the way. Follow?”
“I do. You don’t want anyone jealous that I’m making this kind of money on some low-profile dig.”
The man nodded. “Good. You understand. As I said, the Company is prepared to write another check in this amount if you successfully report any findings during your excursion.” He made sure Gareth was looking at him as he finished. “You have a few days before you depart. I would suggest cashing the check so you know we’re not messing around, and then you’ll be given instructions.”
Gareth’s hand had been shaking the entire conversation, but as the man finished speaking, he suddenly found a boost of confidence. “You got it. I’m in.”
That was over a week ago, and Gareth was still riding the high of knowing what would be in his bank account one week from now. He thought through the list of instructions he’d been given after he cashed the check, to make sure he wouldn’t mess anything up.
It was a short list:
1. Participate in the expedition and do nothing to raise suspicion.
2. If any profitable or seemingly conspicuous items are found, email details to the address below.
The rest of the letter was a simple liability waiver, “that by accepting and depositing the check the Company was hereby removed from any liability yada yada…”
He’d sent the email after reading the journal for Dr. Fischer, using his laptop and satellite connection. Gareth mentioned briefly that they’d found “some sort of powdery substance that supposedly led to the demise of the entire Russian expedition…” and “we believe there to be more of the substance available in a nearby cave…” He sent it, and almost immediately there was a response. It was simple:
“We are converging on your general location. As the included battery will not hold much power, use the device only when you believe we are close to help us find your exact position.”
Wow, Gareth thought. These guys are on the ball.
Now, as the helicopter’s rotor wash grew, he knew they’d be on them in minutes. Do I need to do anything to prepare?
He placed the tracking device back under the seat of the truck and slammed the door. As he turned back to the campfire, he noticed the students and Dr. Fischer standing and looking around the sky, trying to figure out where the helicopter was coming from.
“There it is!” the Korean guy yelled out. Gareth hadn’t bothered to learn any of their names — he knew they’d go home empty-handed, so there was no reason to become part of the team.
They all looked to where he was pointing. Southwest, hanging low over the tree line. If it weren’t for the slowly receding hill they were on, they wouldn’t have been able to see the bird at all.
Gareth examined the growing shape in the dusky sky. It looked dark, almost black, but that could be due to the lack of light at this time of day. It seemed to be sleek, too, not like the commercial helicopters he’d seen flying around cities. It was flatter, more military-looking.
Stealthier.
The copter finally drew near. It slid gently over the trees, slowing to their location, and began to descend. Where the hell is it going to land? Gareth thought. He looked around at their small clearing. The trucks, tents, and campfire were spread out almost evenly over the area, and he couldn’t see where a helicopter that size would fit.
But the pilot had a different impression of the clearing. Gareth watched as the pilot masterfully guided the machine to a spot less than twenty yards from the campfire and then straight down to the grassy platform. He watched the skids land gracefully on the blades of grass, finally coming to a rest without the slightest bump or hop.