He keyed his mike. “Spectre One One, this is Eagle. Over.”
“This is One One. Over.”
Lorenz quickly relayed to the pilot of the Spectre gunship what he wanted. The AC-130 didn’t look like a bloodhound, but it was the best Harris could come up with in the inventory. A C-130 transport plane modified to be an airborne gun platform, the Spectre could throw a lot of bullets in a very short period of time. From front to rear, along the left side, the Spectre boasted 7.62mm Gatling guns, 40mm cannon, and a 105mm howitzer, all linked to a sophisticated computerized aiming system on board the craft. The crewmen’s job was to shovel away expended brass from around the guns so they could keep firing.
Using its low-light-level TV–LLTV–Lorenz wanted the Spectre to head to the bouncer’s location, then begin a circular search pattern, literally looking for the people they were after.
“Roger that,” the pilot of the Spectre acknowledged when Lorenz was done with his instructions. “ETA at target sight, fifteen minutes. Out.”
“Another kilometer,” Toland said. He pulled his canteen out and drank deeply while still walking, trying to replace some of the fluid he was losing and keep his temperature down.
He looked over. Faulkener and the other man weren’t doing too well either, but Baldrick seemed all right. Of course, Baldrick hadn’t been with them at the ambush.
Lexina listened to the report from Elek in Qian-Ling and then one from Gergor and Condan, still making their way south. Neither was good. Gergor’s description of what happened when he turned on the ship link did not bode well for current events. And Elek being trapped inside the tomb without access to the lower level was frustrating. The fact that the guardian in Qian-Ling could give no information on the location of the key had not surprised her, but she had had a faint hope it might. That hope was now gone.
She was seated in a tall black chair, a few inches too big for her. One small screen glowed in front of her, the rest of the devices in the room dark and powerless.
She knew little of this base from the records other than that the Airlia had established one at this location during the height of their domain on Earth. Its purpose was unclear, and who had attacked it, and why, were also unknown, although Lexina had to assume it had happened during the long struggle between Aspasia and Artad, and their minions: the Guides and The Ones Who Wait. There was so much that had been lost over the years, so much information.
There was little power left in the base’s energy source, and she had carried few supplies in with her. Until Gergor and Coridan arrived with more, she would have to make do. Her sat-link still worked — after she had hooked it into the facility’s monitoring array. That allowed her to talk to them, but there was little she could do other than monitor. The conversation with Duncan had not gone well.
But one thing she had learned in her years with STAAR was that there was always a way to turn what looked like a negative into a positive. She punched into her sat-link.
The other end was answered promptly.
“Duncan.”
“Dr. Duncan, this is Lexina. Have you thought more about my request that you give us the key? If you have it, that is.”
“Oh, we have it,” Duncan said. “But I see no reason why we should give it to you.”
“My people are in Qian-Ling.” “Is that where the key goes?” “It is possible,” Lexina said. “But you don’t know for sure?” Duncan pressed.
“My people in Qian-Ling have Professor Che Lu in their custody.”
“Are you threatening to harm her?” There was a touch of anger in Duncan’s voice.
“Perhaps I should,” Lexina said. “After all, you killed two of my agents at Area 51. But I would prefer to act in a more civilized manner if we can. Qian-Ling has been sealed off from the outside world. The Chinese army has it completely surrounded. Unless you give me the key, Che Lu and those with her will never get out of the tomb.”
“What does the key have to do with Qian-Ling?”
The question gave Lexina pause. Exactly what did Duncan have? Or were they ignorant?
“That is why you must give me the key,” Lexina said. “I know how it is to be used.”
“So do we,” Duncan said. “And maybe you’re tying to me. Maybe it doesn’t go to Qian-Ling.”
Lexina realized this was going nowhere, a poker game where both sides were refusing to show their cards.
“I understand your shuttles have launched to link up with the mothership and the remaining talon.”
“The whole world knows that,” Duncan said.
“But I know something that could critically affect their mission,” Lexina said.
“What?”
“You don’t get something for nothing.”
“I’m not giving you the key,” Duncan said. “We not only don’t know who you are, we don’t know what you are. Until then, there are no deals.”
“You are making a mistake,” Lexina said.
“Perhaps, but we didn’t think STAAR had our best interests at heart before, and now that we know you aren’t even human, we think it even less.”
“I’m human,” Lexina said.
“That’s not what the autopsies on your two people revealed.”
“We are here to protect you,” Lexina said.
“And it was an easier job when we were ignorant.” Duncan said. “But we’re not ignorant, and frankly, protect us from what? Yourselves? Sort of like the Mafia? We’ll protect you from us? If it’s to protect us from Aspasia, we took care of that problem on our own.”
“So you think,” Lexina said.
“We will take care of the Airlia survivors on Mars on our own also.”
“So you think,” Lexina repeated.
There was a pause. Then Duncan spoke. “What do you know of the Guides?”
“They are your enemy.”
“The Mission?” Duncan asked.
“They seek to destroy you,” Lexina said.
“Using the Black Death?”
“They have done that in the past.” “But we have always survived.”
“You do not even know who you are, yet you think you can do all this? You are children! Ignorant children playing in a very grown-up universe.”
“If you are willing to work with us,” Duncan said, “perhaps something can be arranged. But I do not respond well to threats.”
“On your head be it.” Lexina cut the connection. She sat back in the chair designed for the Airlia, her feet dangling just above the floor.
“Is there any other way out of here?” Croteau kept his voice low, even though it appeared Elek was totally engrossed in the golden pyramid.
Che Lu shook her head. “The main passageway was blown up by the army. Our friend there closed off the tunnel.”
Lo Fa had been silent the entire time they had been inside the tomb. Che Lu had attributed it to his displeasure over being captured by these mercenaries on what she knew he considered a foolish mission. But he broke his long silence. “How did those others get in here last week?”
“What others?” Che Lu asked.
“The Russians,” Lo Fa said. “I know they did not go in the front door of the tomb, because I cleared that for you. And they did not go in the large runnel, because that was how you got out. So — how did they get in?”
“A side tunnel,” Che Lu said. She remembered Colonel Kostanov, the Russian officer who had been in here before she arrived last time. He had pointed to the side of the large chamber. “Over there. But he said it was sealed from the outside.”
“Yes, but I have some explosives,” Croteau said.
“The army will be waiting outside,” Lo Fa said.
“I’d rather take my chances out there than in here,” Croteau said. “This Elek fellow doesn’t have what he wanted, and I got a feeling he’ll sit in here forever. Every hour we wait, the more troops are going to be outside. Now is our best shot. Plus it’ll be light soon. We wait another day, we’ll never get away.”