Genevieve took a deep breath and said, “I’m saying, the magic formula included boisei, ergaster, and neanderthal DNA — B.E.N.”
“Ah Christ!” Tom said. “Ben Gellie is the product of genetic engineering! He’s the carrier of the Phoenix Plague. We need to leave now! We need to get a message to Sam — he’s got it all wrong.”
They both started to run up the stairs, racing for the main obsidian tunnel. Once there, they ran at full speed for nearly fifteen minutes, racing through the series of mind numbing spirals that seemed intent on stopping their progress.
The tunnel curved left and they entered the final spiral and dropped to the floor — as the thunderous echo of shots raked the wall above, sending fragments and fine shards of obsidian glass splintering onto their backs, announcing the springing of a trap.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Genevieve got a shot off before she hit the ground.
She squeezed the trigger automatically and her MP5 submachinegun became a natural extension of her arm. By the time her shoulders crashed into the cold, obsidian floor, she’d released five shots, killing two men.
Tom stood up, his weapon raised, ready to fire. Both remained silent, their eyes darting between each other and the two bodies.
Genevieve listened.
She heard the sound of blood pounding in the back of her head, the inhale and exhale of her own labored breathing, the slight click as Tom changed his weapon to F — for fully automatic fire — but she didn’t hear any footsteps.
The tunnel was quiet. Deathly so.
She moved farther along the spiral, keeping her senses focused on the open space up ahead. The tunnel was empty, the walls of obsidian providing no cover and limited camouflage. Tom moved with her. Neither spoke. They didn’t have to. They were experts in this sort of field, and lovers, making them work with the innate harmony that transcended verbal communication.
Tom bent down and glanced at two bodies. He didn’t check a pulse. They both had two 9mm bullet strikes their heads. No one was going to survive those shots. Instead, he ran his eyes across the two men, rolled them over.
Genevieve glanced at him. “Well?”
“No insignia, no ID, carrying Israeli Uzi submachineguns.”
“Mercenaries. The question is who’s paying? The US Defense Department or someone private?”
Tom said, “We’re not going to find out staying here.”
She heard the sound of dozens of footsteps running. “We’re not going to remain alive staying here! Let’s retreat to the next spiral change.”
“Agreed!”
Genevieve ran a hundred or so feet until she reached the point where the spiral changed direction, opening to a new branch of the labyrinth.
She stopped at that point. They had the advantage of some decent cover, while the advancing mercenaries were out in the open.
They both aimed their weapons down the curving tunnel. At least ten mercenaries came into view all at once.
Genevieve and Tom opened fire.
Their shots ripped the first wave of their opponents to pieces. She and Tom spaced out their shots so that at any stage one of them still had a near full magazine at the ready.
She felt the unique calm of battle.
Breathing deeply, she traced the fallen mercenaries. One of them, with a sucking chest wound, moved for his Uzi and she put two bullets in his skull.
The obsidian labyrinth became silent.
It lasted nearly five minutes. An eternity during a firefight in an enclosed battlespace.
Then someone threw something metal into the tunnel.
Thick smoke billowed from the green M18 colored smoke grenades. It quickly filled the labyrinth, forming an impenetrable visual screen.
Genevieve felt Tom squeeze her arm. She understood what it meant — we need to retreat. She nodded. They ran back through the spiral until they reached the next opposing turn. There they set up for their attackers once more.
Tom said, “We can’t hold them off here indefinitely.”
“That’s great. You got a better idea?”
“Yeah, let’s find another way out!”
Her lips curled with incredulity. “What have you got in mind? We’re inside a labyrinth. By definition, that means one way in and out!”
He met her eye. “Elise said that during the CIA’s attack on the terrorist group, they slaughtered everyone, but somehow John and Jenny Gellie escaped?”
“That’s right. Unaware of the US elite military presence in the labyrinth, the rest of their cult was massacred by superior forces.”
“So John and Jenny Gellie weren’t inside at the time of the attack?”
“No. There’s video footage that shows them entering the labyrinth. They were the ringleaders.”
“Then how the hell did they get out?” Tom asked, with a rueful grin.
“Good question.” Genevieve thought about that for a moment. “There must be a secret escape passage.”
“The monastery!”
“What?”
“You said work on the Solovetsky monastery commenced in 1436, but the monks had gathered in the area, declaring it sacred land, nearly two years earlier!”
“That’s right…” Genevieve confirmed, not yet sure where he was going with it.
“What if someone knew about the labyrinth?” Tom asked. “What if someone knew exactly where it came out, but the raised sea level meant that they could no longer access it?”
“What are you saying?”
Tom said, “I think the Solovetsky monks bored a tunnel into the sphere, dropping down from there. Maybe it was an accident or maybe someone amongst them descended from the Master Builders and knew the truth? Either way, once they found the sphere, they set a course to follow the ancient scripts and produce the Phoenix Plague.”
“But Bolshoi Zayatsky’s nearly two miles from the Solovetsky fortified monastery!”
“Is it?” Tom’s eyes narrowed. “How would we know? That’s the purpose of a labyrinth: to confuse its intruders. Maybe, all along, we’ve been making our way north, into the grounds beneath the monastery.”
The first group of mercenaries came into view, hugging the edge of the obsidian spiral.
Genevieve opened fire with her MP5.
The first two fell, and the third emptied his full 32 round magazine toward them. Genevieve ducked behind the corner of the spiral.
She felt a fresh shiver. “We’re never going to outgun them. Let’s try and find your secret tunnel.”
Tom grinned. “I think I already know where it is.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. That blank spot at the top of the dome. The one without any writings!”
“Of course!”
They ran all the way back to the sphere.
Tom climbed down the stairs and up to the orb at the center. Genevieve fixed her flashlight on the raised pictograms.
Behind them, she heard the heavy breathing of people running hard.
They were getting close.
Tom said, “None of these markings look anything like a trap door.”
Genevieve pointed to a pictograph that had a single circle inside a circle. “It’s that one!”
“You’re sure?”
“No. But I’ve seen a similar description on the side of the Great Pyramid of Giza, where the secret escape passage used to be.”
Tom closed his eyes, trying to picture the symbol at the base of the Khufu’s tomb. “You’re right!”
Genevieve pressed the stone. Unseen mechanisms started to move above. She climbed the stairs and fired several rounds down the obsidian tunnel as a warning to the mercenaries.
They reached the top of the obsidian dome.
The ceiling seemed perfectly solid. There were no cracks. No sign of any potential opening. Genevieve pushed on it, but nothing budged.
The wall beside them sparked as bullets ripped into the ancient volcanic stone.