The Hunt For Atlantis

TWENTY-SIX

Chase sprinted around the wall circling the mausoleum, using it as cover-however temporary. It would take only seconds for Frost’s men to flank it and cut him down.

Running footsteps sounded behind him. Starkman, two more of his men following farther back.

The light from the flashlight clipped to his chest danced crazily over the temple wall. The entrance should be dead ahead…

Dull impacts of metal on metal as bullets struck the golden wall. Someone screamed, and one of the sets of sprinting footsteps became thumps as a body tumbled to the ground.

He didn’t look back. The entrance was ahead, a square of absolute darkness in the wall. Starkman was almost alongside him. The bastard always had been a good runner-

Frost’s voice carried over the noise of the guns, yelling orders. “Kill them! Kill them all!”

Another frantic chatter of MP-7 fire, followed by screams. They were slaughtering the prisoners!

The black square expanded, jittering torchlight revealing the perspective lines of the tunnel inside the temple.

A bullet whipped past so close that he felt its heat, but he was in!

“Those motherfuckers!” Starkman gasped right behind him. “They killed my men!”

“Like you wouldn’t have done the same to them!” Chase spat back. The first corner was just ahead-

Orange light lit the tunnel, a lethal strobing as their pursuers reached the entrance and fired wildly into it. The trailing member of Starkman’s team took the full force of the bullets, his shadow thrashing wildly on the wall in front of Chase.

The corner-

Chase dived around it, Starkman following a step behind as more bullets smacked against the wall. Splinters of stone flew in all directions. Shielding his eyes from the stinging debris, Chase pulled a hand grenade from his webbing and yanked out the pin, the metal spoon pinging free.

He silently counted to three, then tossed the grenade around the corner at the approaching footsteps.

Boom!

Shrapnel filled the air like a swarm of enraged bees as Chase threw himself flat on the ground, dragging Starkman with him. The thunder of the explosion died away. The running footsteps had ceased.

Starkman sat up, recovering his MP-7. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Chase growled. “I haven’t decided if I’m going to let you live.”

“I’ve got the gun,” Starkman pointed out.

“And I’m the only one who knows how to get out of this temple. Come on!” Chase stood, pulling Starkman to his feet. “We’ve got five minutes before this entire place gets blown to buggery!”

“The bomb’s set!” said Schenk. “I disabled the controls-there’s no way to stop it!”

“If you want to stay alive, start running!” Frost yelled to Philby as he ran for the cavern entrance. With a gasp of fright, Philby raced after him.

Down the tunnel, around the corners… and into the chamber containing the Challenge of Strength. The wooden handles above the stone bench had long since crumbled to dust, but…

“Shit,” snapped Chase, seeing that the barbed vertical bars, though gnarled with corrosion, still obstructed the passageway just as they had in Brazil. “I thought they’d have rusted away by now!”

“What are they?” asked Starkman.

“A pain in the arse!” He took his last grenade and moved to the wall by the narrow passage. “Hang on!”

The grenade clacked along the stone floor, exploding halfway down the passage. The blast ripped the corroded metal bars to pieces and filled the air with a blizzard of scabbed metal flakes.

Chase looked along the passage. Only a few of the bars were still intact. “Okay! Follow me down there, on three, as fast as you can!”

“What happens if I don’t?”

“You go splat! One, two, three!”

Chase rushed down the passage, weaving between the stubs of the poles. A misstep could drive one of the rusty spears deep into his leg-although tetanus was the least of the threats to his life right now. “Get ready for the-”

Clunk!

The stone slab under his foot moved.

At least part of the ancient mechanism was still intact. With a rasping groan the ceiling blocks started to descend, dust raining through the gaps between them.

“What the fuck is this?” Starkman shrieked.

“Booby trap! We’ve got to get to the end before we get squashed!”

He ducked to avoid the stalactite-like remains of a pole, unclipping the light from his body armor. With no one on the bench to slow its progress, the ceiling was descending far quicker than in Brazil. But he could move faster.

The end of the passage was only feet away, but the last two bars were still intact, the gap between them narrow enough for the barbs to snag him.

He kicked, driving the heel of his boot against the nearest pole. It split in two, the top half plunging from its hole in the ceiling and slashing his leg.

But there wasn’t time for pain-the ceiling was still descending.

He cleared the last pole, sweeping the flashlight beam around as he tried to find the lever or switch or whatever the hell he was supposed to pull-

“Chase!” Starkman cried behind him. “Help!”

Chase looked back. Starkman, taller than him, had been forced into a crouch as the stones dropped-and his empty holster had snagged on one of the broken poles.

But if Chase went back to pull him free, the ceiling would crush them both within seconds.

“Eddie!”

Chase ignored him, hurriedly searching the wall-

There! A dark recess in the stone.

He thrust his fist into the square opening, fingers outstretched.

Nothing but dry, broken splinters.

The ceiling pushed down, forcing him to his knees. In a few more seconds, the last block would reach the hole in the wall and crush his arm, and then the rest of him…

The mechanism had to be made of something stronger than wood, or it would have decayed-

Chase forced his arm deeper into the hole, fingers clawing.

Wooden fragments, cold stone… metal!

The stub of some lever, part of a switch-it didn’t matter. He clamped his hand around it as tightly as he could, and pulled-

It moved!

It was only the slightest shift, but it was enough. Something inside the wall tripped with a hollow clunk-and the ceiling stopped.

Dust cascading all around him, Chase withdrew his hand from the hole to find that his palm was bleeding. The metal stub’s edges were as sharp as the rusted poles.

He turned the flashlight, looking for the spot where the exit had been in the Brazilian temple. A new crack appeared between two of the blocks. He shoved a foot against the stone. It moved.

“Little help?” said a quiet voice.

Starkman was hunched in an extremely uncomfortable position, twisted around the broken spike. The ceiling was less than three feet above the floor. Whatever machinery had retracted the stone blocks in Brazil was obviously out of action here.

Chase extended his uninjured hand to Starkman, then leaned back and pulled. For a few seconds it seemed as though Starkman was trapped-then the pole gave way with a grinding snap, pitching the American onto his front.

“Thanks,” he said, crawling forward. Chase kicked the hinged block aside.

“There’s still two more of these to go,” he warned, crawling through the hole and standing up in the next passage.

Starkman followed quickly. “How long have we got?”

“Three and a half minutes! Come on!”

“Is that long enough?” Starkman asked, running after him.

“It’ll have to be.”

The passage followed the same route that he remembered from Brazil. So far, so good-there was still a chance of survival.

A small one, but…

The echo of their footsteps changed, the tunnel opening out ahead. The Challenge of Skill.

Chase swept his light around the chamber. No caimans or piranhas here-in fact, there was no water at all, the stone pool completely dry. All that remained in the bottom of the nine-foot-deep channel was a scabrous, discolored residue of algae.

He looked to his right. The exit was there, but the bridge wasn’t. Not intact, anyway. It had rotted away and collapsed, its remains scattered across the pool like a broken skeleton.

“We’ve got to get over there,” he said, pointing at the exit and jumping down into the channel.

“How long?”

“Two and a bit minutes!”

They ran to the remnants of the bridge. Chase looked at the top of the wall. He might be able to jump and grab the edge, but it would be tough to keep his grip while climbing up.

“Give me a leg up!” Starkman said.

“Or you could give me a leg up,” Chase countered.

“You don’t trust me?”

“Fuck, no!”

“Fair enough, but you know the way out and I don’t!”

“Good point,” said Chase, bending down and clasping his hands together for Starkman to use as a foothold. The American scaled the wall and disappeared over the top.

For a horrible moment Chase thought he wasn’t coming back, then Starkman stretched his arms down the wall. Another few seconds, and Chase had pulled himself up.

“Thought I was gonna disappear, huh?” Starkman said as he stood.

“Wouldn’t be the first time, would it?” Chase looked at his watch. Two minutes. “Shit! Run!”

They sprinted down the tunnel. Next stop, the Challenge of Mind, but at least he knew how to find the back door.

He rushed into the chamber and got his bearings. “There’s a secret switch in the wall,” he began, hurrying to the corner-

To find nothing but blank stone.

No hole. No switch.

No back door.

“Shit!” He darted the flashlight beam along the base of the wall, hunting for another little nook, some sign that the builders of this temple had varied the design.

Nothing!

“What is it?” Starkman demanded.

“It’s not here! There’s no fucking back door!” He looked back at the stone door blocking the exit, at the symbols carved into the wall above it.

The trough of lead balls was there, as was the metal scale, and the spiked grid suspended from the ceiling, ready to plunge and impale anyone beneath it if the wrong answer was given.

The answer…

Chase frowned, desperately trying to recall the memory. Nina had told him the answer after figuring out how the numbers worked. What was it, what was it?

Forty-two-

No, that was the fucking Hitchhiker’s Guide!

Forty!

“We need to put forty of those balls in there!” he said, pointing to the scale as he scooped up a handful of the heavy pellets. “Two lots of ten each! Fast!”

Starkman obeyed. “What if we fuck up the count?”

“We die!” Chase counted ten of the pellets and dropped them into the cup before grabbing another handful.

Starkman did the same as Chase counted off another ten. Twenty, thirty…

Forty!

He grabbed the lever, paused for a fraction of a second to hope that Nina’s math had been correct, then pulled it-

Clink.

The stone door moved slightly as the catch was released.

“I love brainy women!” Chase whooped. “Give me a hand!” They forced the door open.

Starkman was right behind him as they entered the last passage. “Now just run like fuck!” Chase yelled.

He couldn’t even spare a moment to check his watch, but he knew they were almost down to their last thirty seconds.

Into the main chamber of the temple, gold and orichalcum glittering all around them. But none of it mattered except the huge statue of Poseidon at the far end, and the flight of stairs behind it.

He hoped that removing the hidden switch in the last challenge was the only change the architects had made.

“Up here!” he gasped, taking the steps three at a time. The muscles in his legs burned, sweat stinging the deep cut in his calf, but he couldn’t stop now. “Back of the room, there should be a shaft!”

“Should be?” panted Starkman.

“If it’s not, sue me!” They reached the top of the stairs, the riches of the altar room shining around them, but the only thing of value to Chase was the shaft-

The bomb exploded.

The fuel-air explosion swept through the cavern with earth-shattering force. Temples fell, palaces were smashed as the shockwave expanded. And behind it came a swelling fireball, a fury that seared and melted everything it touched.

Even the ancient walls of the Temple of Poseidon were unable to withstand the full force of modern weaponry. Blocks weighing tons were pulverized in the blink of an eye.

The cavern itself succumbed to the devastation just as quickly. A million tons of stone plunged downwards as the ceiling collapsed, obliterating the citadel.

Chase could hear the shockwave approaching like an express train, a wind rushing through the altar room ahead of the blast itself.

The “priest hole” was just feet away-

He dived into it. There was no time to worry if it was blocked. Because if it was, he would be dead either way in a few seconds.

Unlike the vertical shaft in Atlantis, this one was slanted, a steep slope of at least sixty degrees. Starkman was right behind him as he slid down it.

The wind rose to a gale…

The helicopter pilots had received a garbled radio message to prepare their aircraft for a rapid takeoff. Now, Nina and Kari watched in horror as Frost-and only about half his men-charged out of the cave and raced through the snow towards the choppers.

“Oh my God!” Kari cried as Frost and Schenk jumped into the cabin. Outside, two of his men practically threw Philby into the second helicopter. “What happened?”

“Go! Go!” Frost yelled at the pilot. “Qobras got loose, started the timer again! Couldn’t stop it!”

“Where’s Eddie?” Nina shouted.

“He’s dead! They shot him!”

Her breath stuck in her throat. “What? No!” Kari looked shocked.

“Faster! The bomb’s going to-”

A colossal jet of smoke and dust and rubble erupted from the cave entrance with an unbelievably deep thump like the pounding of a mile-wide drum. Nina felt the detonation in her chest cavity.

The pilot threw the ascending helicopter sharply sideways to get out of the path of the avalanche charging towards it. An avalanche not of snow, but of stones, loose rocks knocked free by the explosive pulse, sweeping others away as they cascaded down the cliff.

The second helicopter followed suit. Flying stones pounded its hull like hail as the avalanche smashed down, causing a huge chunk of rock to shear away from the side of the mountain, the ledge disintegrating in an enormous cloud of dust.

The Path of the Moon was gone forever, the road to the last outpost of Atlantis swept away.

Nina pressed her hands against the helicopter’s window as she watched the destruction below. Other rock slides tumbled down the mountain, the Golden Peak of Tibetan legend shaken to its core.

And everything within… lost.

“Eddie…” she whispered. Losing him once had been bad enough. Twice was almost too much to bear. Her eyes filled with tears.

Chase screamed as the blast wave ripped past, dust and grit and fragmented stone scouring his exposed skin. The noise was unimaginable, a roaring thunder shaking every bone, every organ in his body as he was swept helplessly down the shaft.

Light in the tunnel, a rising brightness…

Not daylight ahead, but fire behind, the burning fuel-air mix superheating as the collapsing cave compressed it and drove it after them.

And all he could do was skid down the slope towards the darkness ahead, while the glow from behind went from red to orange to yellow as the fire rushed after him-

A rectangle of daylight suddenly burst open before him, the snow covering the exit blown away. Chase had no time to reflect on his luck. Instead he acted entirely on reflex as he shot out of the end of the shaft onto a snow-covered pile of scree, throwing himself sideways to avoid the tongue of flame.

Snow flashed to steam as a fireball erupted from the shaft behind him. He hit the ground hard, the layer of snow doing little to cushion the impact as he slammed against the rock beneath.

But there wasn’t even time to feel the pain, because a hissing rattle from above warned him that a wave of loose stones was careening down the mountainside-

He rolled and flattened himself against the rock face, praying that the vestigial overhang was large enough to deflect the falling stones over him rather than crushing him flat.

Rocks ranging in size from a clenched fist to a man’s torso blew apart like grenades above him. Chase shielded his head as the rest of him was pounded by flying fragments. He yelled, barely hearing his own voice over the noise of colliding stones.

Eventually the tumult died down. Painfully Chase forced himself onto his knees, chunks of debris clattering off him, and took in his surroundings.

The slight lip on the rock face had saved him-less than a foot away was a boulder, split cleanly in two by the impact, which would have crushed his skull like a watermelon had it landed on him. Beyond that was a random mass of broken dark stone. Through the dust, the snowy peaks of the Himalayas stretched into the distance.

Looking down, he saw he was on a ledge overlooking a wide valley. The slope seemed shallow enough to descend without climbing gear.

Which was lucky, because the sum total of his equipment now amounted to whatever he had in his pockets. He’d even lost his flashlight.

An odd, out-of-place smell reached him: steam. Misty swirls where the fire had evaporated the snow coiled past, carried on the breeze. He looked around, and saw Starkman partly buried under lumps of stone. He ran to him. “Jason! Come on, stay with me,” he said as he threw the larger pieces aside. “Can you hear me?”

“Eddie?” Starkman’s voice was dazed. “Is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Are you hurt? Can you move?”

“I dunno, let me… ow, shit!”

“What?” Chase asked. “What is it?” If Starkman were seriously injured, there was practically nothing he could do to get him off the mountain.

“I landed on my keys…”

Chase stared at him, then started to laugh. “Oh, you bastard, you funny fucker,” he finally spluttered. Starkman joined in, wheezing. “Come on, get your lazy American arse off the ground.”

Starkman pushed himself upright. His eyepatch had been torn off, exposing a sunken eye socket behind the discolored, closed lid. “Son of a bitch,” he groaned. “That hurts…”

Chase looked up at the mountain. Smoke and dust drifted from its flanks. “Well, your boss got what he wanted,” he sighed. “The place’s been blown to buggery-nobody’ll ever get anything out of there again.”

“Yeah, but your boss got what he wanted too,” Starkman reminded him.

“He stopped being my boss the second he tried to kill me,” Chase said coldly. “Think I’ll have to have words with the bastard about that.”

“You never did take betrayal very well, did you?” said Starkman pointedly.

Chase regarded him silently for a long moment. “Not really.”

“Still not the forgiving type?”

“No. But,” he added, “there’s some things I can forget a bit more easily than others. Temporarily.”

Starkman’s good eye watched him warily. “I never touched her, Eddie. Whatever she may have told you, I never screwed around with your wife. I’d never do that to a friend.”

“You know, Jason,” said Chase, holding out his hand, “I actually believe you.”

“You offering a truce, Eddie?”

“For now.” Starkman took his hand; Chase pulled him up. “I think we both want the same thing-to get that bastard Frost for what he’s done. And I’ve got to rescue Nina.”

“You stopped being paid to protect her at the same time Frost stopped being your boss.”

“Money stopped being the reason I was protecting her a while ago,” Chase told him, getting a raised eyebrow in response.

They both looked around at a new noise. Early morning light glinting from their windows, Frost’s helicopters rounded the mountain, rotor noise booming down the valley as they sped into the distance. Chase stared after them, then turned back to Starkman, holding out his hand again. “Even with Qobras dead, do you still have access to the Brotherhood’s resources?”

“Some of them,” replied Starkman. “What do you have in mind?”

“I fancy a trip to Norway. You interested?”

“Definitely.” They shook hands. “Fight to the end, Eddie?”

“Fight to the end.”

Starkman looked around. “Just one slight problem-we’re stuck in the Himalayas with no transport and no equipment.”

Chase managed a half-smile. “Good thing I looked at a map before coming here.” He pointed down the valley. “If you’re up for a yomp, there’s a village that way. We should be able to reach it by tonight.” The half-smile became a full one. “I know a girl there…”