Siberian Treasure

28

As it turned out, by the time Marina and Gabe landed with their prisoners and contacted Colin Bergstrom, everything had blown wide open. There was no question about them proceeding as Marina had suggested.

Especially since when they swept the plane, they’d found a map and documentation that appeared to outline the remainder of the journey.

“We can finish the flight plan and follow this map to the meeting point,” Marina said. Her reluctance to follow through on this mission had evaporated; now determination burned as strongly in her as it did in Gabe. She had come this far, through this much danger. She’d lost her chance to see the Lam Pao Archive. She would resolve this mess and find her dad. If he was still alive.

“If we wait too long, whoever’s at the other end will get suspicious and we’ll lose our chance to find out where we’re going,” she told Gabe.

“You just want to fly that plane again.” Another dry comment she hadn’t expected from the sarcastic spook, but she didn’t deny it. She loved her P210, but the Mirage was an awesome plane.

When MacNeil finally made contact with Colin Bergstrom, the CIA director was overwhelmingly relieved to hear from them. After listening to his operative’s debrief, he shared news of his own, his voice blaring over the speakerphone at the local police station.

“I have been contacted by an inspector in Saudi Arabia. A man was murdered there, and a business card was left with the Skaladeska symbol on it. That alone indicates that there is something brewing, and that we are not just following a hunch. There’s more, but first I am going to fax you a drawing of the man who is believed to be the murderer. Dr. Alexander, if you would please examine the drawing and give me your opinion, it would be appreciated.”

While Marina waited for the fax to come in, Gabe lifted the receiver and got a further confidential debrief from his director.

“We’ve made the connection between the Skalas and the earthquake in Allentown. Helen Darrow’s team found the controller that detonated an underground bomb, and controlled the drill. It has the Skaladeska symbol on it. They caused those earthquakes, they’re implicated in at least two murders—”

“—and your fax just arrived, and Marina has identified that photo as the man who broke into her home.”

“So we can add attempted kidnapping to the list. Unnecessary at this point, but I’ll let Darrow know. I agree with Dr. Alexander — you need to follow up on this map and travel route and see if you can locate some of these people. They’ve got to be planning something else — why would they stop at one incident? And not even take credit for it?”

“They wouldn’t. We’ll go on and see what we can find out. You need to get me a sat phone and a weapon stat.”

“I want to send up some backup personnel, too, but it’s going to take at least twenty-four hours to get them approved and up there.”

“We can’t wait. Get me the phone and the gun. Marina is insistent that we keep the trail hot, and I’m afraid I agree with her, despite the risk of involving a civilian. We might lose our chance of meeting whoever we were supposed to meet up with if we’re delayed. Or they might hear about the capture of their colleagues. And we’re more likely to be successful with just the two of us than some big team, if we get into Skaladeska territory.

“Marina’s hot to go, and I’m afraid that if we don’t manage the investigation, she’ll do it on her own. I have to tell you, I’m not happy about being in this position.”

Bergstrom spoke abruptly, “Taking a civilian isn’t the most optimal of plans, but I’m not going to miss this opportunity. We brought Marina Alexander into this because of who she is, and who she knows. And what she might know but doesn’t yet remember.

“She has the mark of the Skaladeskas on her — that could be invaluable to us. Even though she may not realize it, whatever she knows about them is more than anyone else does. She’s been in dangerous situations before; she knows how to handle herself. And you’ve convinced me that a small team makes better sense in this case. Hold on … let me see about your phone and gun. I should be able to get them to you pretty quick.”

Gabe stood at the desk in the police chief’s office, thankful for the privacy, and shuffled his feet. He could hear Bergstrom’s movements in the background over the phone, and his low-toned voice rumbling as he spoke and, likely, manipulated, begged, borrowed, and stole. He wondered if Helen was there, and whether she knew he was on the other end of this case.

“Okay, Gabe, you have thirty hours on your own.” Colin came back on the line, breathless but firm. “And I don’t want Dr. Alexander running the operation, so you’ll have to keep a rein on her. Darrow wants to send her team up there too, but I’ve managed to convince her to hold off for thirty hours. Get me what you can in that time.”

Nearly twenty hours later, after a stop for refueling and a generous nap, Marina landed the Mirage at an airport near Waswanipi, Quebec. It was mid-morning, but since they were in the Land of the Midnight Sun, the sun had been shining like it was noon for hours. It was surprisingly chilly; near forty degrees, though Marina had expected it to be closer to sixty since it was July. The gloves and hat would come in handy.

Gabe had arranged for a rental car when they stopped for fuel, and it was waiting in the parking lot.

“The old key under the mat trick, eh?” Marina commented as she climbed into the Land Rover. “Somehow I expected the CIA to be a little less simplistic.”

Gabe started the engine. “You watch too many spy movies.”

“Watch them? I’m in one! That tunnel from Dad’s cellar under the lake was too much like Dr. No’s underwater room. And I like Hitchcock better than Bond anyway.”

“Better than Bond?” Gabe pulled the Land Rover out of the airport parking lot and flipped the switch to turn on the heater fan. A blast of welcome, warm air burst into the vehicle.

“Much better than Bond. At least Hitchcock’s films are somewhat believable.”

“Well, we’ll see if you still think Bond is unbelievable when we’re done with this op.” He cast her a grin as they sped along the road.

“You and your father aren’t close.” Gabe’s understated comment drew Marina’s attention from the passing scenery of scrubby brown grass and rolling hills.

“No. Not at all.” Talking — or even thinking — about her relationship with her father wasn’t something she indulged in often. It was too messy. Easier left alone.

“Why is that?”

“You trying to make conversation or are you just being nosy?” she replied. But her voice wasn’t angry.

“Both. You fought getting involved in this with both arms flailing, and now you’re trying to lead the charge. That kind of change of heart makes me curious. It didn’t seem like concern for Victor was the driving force behind your change, either.”

Perhaps she owed it to Gabe, who was accompanying her on this journey, some explanation. “I didn’t want to get involved because I’ve spent my adult life, and much of my adolescence, trying to get past him, to forget about him. He was never a father to me in any way that mattered — except that he gave me life. I dealt with it. Grew up without him, without Daddy-Daughter Dances and a cheering father at my sporting events ….and without the glowering, dominant figure sizing up my dates when they came to pick me up.

“I handled it. Put it away. Lived with it, and grew into a normal person. Put him out of mind. And preferred to leave him there. Except when I had to do my duty on Father’s Day. His birthday. You know.”

“Then we showed up.”

“Yeah. At that point, I lost control of my life — the one I’d tried so hard to manage and keep normal. The one I’d kept him out of. So, at first, I did the barest thing I could: I talked to you and Bergstrom. And then all hell broke loose.”

“Normal? You call what you do normal?” The corners of his eyes crinkled when he laughed.

She also appreciated his gracious change of subject. “It’s normal to me. Did I mention that I’m stubborn, and once I get started on something — thrown full-force into it — there’s no stopping me?”

“You didn’t have to.” He glanced at her, his gaze lingering a bit too long. “So why do you do all those things?”

“You mean, why is a nice girl like me not settling down with a regular job, a husband, and a couple kids?” The little bit of attraction she might have felt waned.

“No,” he said. “I mean why do you fly and cave and go down the Amazon and eat mopane worms? If you’d knock the chip off your shoulder, you’d probably stop reading between the lines and hearing things that aren’t there.”

Marina’s fingers uncurled and she found herself giving him a genuine smile. “Sorry.” She glanced out the window, formulating her thoughts before responding. “I want to make a difference in the world. I want to live life to the fullest and experience everything I can, and if I can help people at the same time, I will. I have nothing to lose.”

“Except your life. You told me the other day you weren’t a spy, a Sidney Bristow. But you do things that are even more dangerous sometimes. That cave rescue in Pennsylvania wasn’t a cakewalk.”

“No. But it had to be done, and since I don’t have a family waiting for me, I take the risks so that others don’t have to.”

“So,” he said casually, his wrist leveraging the steering wheel. “What’s with you and the tall guy — Bruce?”

Marina looked at him, and when she didn’t respond right away, he looked over at her. Challenging, brows raised, a tiny smirk at the corner of a wide, sexy mouth. He needed a shave.

“What’s with you and Helen Darrow?” she countered, thinking how that stubble would scrape against her skin.

“Well,” he gave a short laugh, returning his attention to the road. “You’re either sharper than I gave you credit for, or you’re damned lucky.”

Marina shrugged, pleased that her guess had been confirmed. “I notice things.”

“It’s been almost five years,” he told her, his voice nonchalant. “Just before she transferred to Chicago. Haven’t seen her since. So how about Bruce? “

“He’s married.”

“I saw the ring. But I also saw the way he looked at you.” He jabbed a finger in the air. “I notice things too.”

“Like I said, he’s married. Looks don’t mean a thing.” She turned to look out the window, effectively ending the conversation, suddenly feeling as vast and lonely as the flat lands that stretched alongside the highway.

They stopped only for lunch, eating beef-and-gravy-laden pasties which Gabe, who was from West Virginia, had never had before, and then continued their journey. Between the map and the directions printed on the sheet of paper, they easily found their way to ….

“This is it?” Gabe turned to stare at Marina, his hands poised on the wheel as if ready to yank it into a turn-about. His weapon rested in his lap, slipping into the space between his jeans-clad thighs.

“This is it. A patch of grass in the middle of nowhere. Hills to the north, trees to the west. No sign of life or a place to meet.” Marina craned her neck to look around. It wasn’t as if anyone could be waiting in ambush — there was nowhere to hide.

“Remind me what we’re supposed to be doing here.”

Marina chose not to respond. Since she’d gotten them here in one piece, she rather felt he should keep his comments to himself.

With a snap, she unbuckled her seatbelt and yanked the handle to open the door.

The air was warmer than it had been when they left the airport, but still cool enough that she needed the coat. Tucking the gloves into her pocket, she strolled away from the Land Rover as much to give her legs a stretch as to clear her mind.

There had to be a reason they were led to this place. The directions were in a bag kept by Bran and George; despite the fact that they were in English, it seemed odd that they would have gone through the trouble of putting them together in order to trick her and Gabe. After all, they couldn’t have planned for Marina’s aerobatic escape.

She stood in the middle of the field. It wasn’t so very large, maybe ten or twelve acres worth of scraggly brownish-green grass. A firm breeze dashed over the small meadow, tufting and shifting the taller grasses, and she inhaled deeply. Beautiful. Clean and fresh.

Nothing like the polluted oxygen she and the majority of Americans ingested.

Despite her Russian roots, Marina had never been to the Soviet Union or even as far north as she was now. Perhaps she’d been wary of getting too close to her lost family. But now, as she looked around at the world under the startling blue sky and the brilliant sun that would barely sleep that night, she recognized a unique beauty in the Arctic.

Yet another facet of Gaia’s magnificence.

Gaia?

Just for a moment, she’d felt a kinship … a oneness with the world around her. Nature, raw and untouched, and alive. And she remembered that it was threatened, every day. That places like this remote area, virginal and new, were disappearing.

And she started to understand what her people felt. The greatness, the majesty of their planet.

The earth — Gaia — was one with them. In order to survive, they had to protect her.

“Ready to head back?”

She hadn’t heard Gabe approach from behind; hadn’t even heard him slam the truck door. “Not yet. No. Let’s walk over there.” She pointed to the low hills studded with pines.

“Marina—“

“It’s the closest thing to mountains around … and that’s where the Skalas live. In Taymyria, anyway. It’s worth checking it out.”

“Something wrong?”

“It’s beautiful here. I was just appreciating her. Nature.”

“Yeah.” Gabe didn’t sound convinced, and she noticed he still held the gun in his hand. “All right, sixty minutes to check out the hills, then we head back and check in with Bergstrom. I’ll call him on the sat phone when we leave.”

Marina was already several yards away, and Gabe jammed the weapon into the waistband of his jeans.

The look on her face when he approached her had been one of intensity and concentration. She was standing there like she owned the world. Her hands thrust into the pockets of her jacket, eyes clear and bright, and her long, slim nose tipped red by the chill breeze.

And here he was, following the damn woman for a hike around some hills when he should be calling Bergstrom. Maybe they’d cracked Bran and George by now and there were some facts to go on.

He looked toward where he’d last seen Marina, and she was gone. He stepped up the pace and approached the base of one of the small hills.

“Tire tracks,” he heard her call, and indeed there were the two narrow strips of pressed-down grass that indicated a vehicle’s passage. The tracks were on the far end of the field from where their Land Rover was parked, explaining why they hadn’t noticed them.

The direction of the trail was easy to follow, and they hurried along between the two tire lines as it wound around one of the hills.

The far sides of the hills were rocky and jagged with shale; more like small mountains than the hillocks cupping the meadow. The tire tracks led right into a throng of trees that grew between the vee of two hills.

Marina looked at Gabe and put her hands on her hips. “I’ll bet you the entire Bond DVD collection that there’s a cave in there.”

He looked toward the low-growing, scrubby pines. “This is your bailiwick and I’m not betting. You’re right.” He resisted the urge to pull her back and allow him to go first; somehow they’d evolved from an expert protecting a civilian to equal partners. Besides, she wouldn’t go for it anyway.

Marina found the narrow passageway that whatever vehicle it had been, had gone through. They followed the trail, stepping on a matt of rust-colored pine needles that had probably been collecting there for centuries; millennia, perhaps. Only yards beyond the trees a crust of grey rock jagged from the hill, and as they approached, Marina edged up next to it.

Gabe read her intent and sidled up behind her, against the rock, and she felt his fingers touch her wrist as she began to peer around the corner. She peered around the outcropping of rock and found exactly what she’d expected. Although every instinct in her body wanted to hurry into the cave, she waited; and not just because Gabe tightened his fingers in warning.

They waited and silence continued to reign. Even the sound of the breeze rushing through the tree branches made little noise. Finally, she felt Gabe move behind her, loosening his grip, and pushing past her. She let him go. After all, he had the gun.

Close behind, she followed him into the tall narrow crevice, one that would have been hard-put for a vehicle to enter, but was more than generous for the two of them. The cave opening was nearly ten feet high and about six feet wide. Grass grew right up to the entrance, then straggled off as the dirt and rocks took over from the eruption of the small mountain.

Inside, it was black and silent as caves are wont to be, and Marina pulled her flashlight from the clip at her waist. Cupping her hand over it to dim the light, she turned it on. The bare glow did little to illuminate the room, but it burned an eerie reddish-orange cast on her fingers and palm.

Cautiously, she opened her hand and allowed more light to spill in; when Gabe gave a short jerk of a nod, she released the light completely and looked around. It was a cave, one similar to the hundreds she’d explored. Damp and cold, dark, rough, and musty-smelling.

The chamber elongated near the left side of the back, and as Marina stepped closer, she saw that it went off into blackness. Gabe followed behind as she started that way — the only option for exploration unless they wanted to go back out the way they came.

“We don’t have the right equipment,” she said in a low voice, “but we can explore a little ways.”

“You mean all those caves I explored in my backyard when I was growing up, I did it all wrong because I didn’t have the equipment?”

They walked along the slightly-downward passage. Marina felt inclined to take her time, noticing the character of the cave: its feel, its dampness, the jagged edges and how it made her feel, while she felt Gabe practically breathing down her neck. He was in a hurry to get back to the Land Rover, but she was enjoying the heck out of this, and wouldn’t be hurried.

Besides. Her instincts told her they were on the right path of something.

Until the tunnel narrowed, and shortened, and narrowed and shortened more until they were nearly crouching.

“Okay, game’s over, let’s go,” Gabe said. A combination of annoyance and smugness tinged his voice. “Can’t go any further.”

Damn.

She stopped. He was right. There was nowhere else to go.

“All right. Let’s go call Bergstrom.” She turned and gave him the flashlight so he could lead the way out and started after him. Marina had taken two steps when she stopped and whirled around. There had to be something there. She could nearly reach out and touch it.

Gabe kept going, his shadow falling back from the beam of light; but she didn’t call after him. He’d only grunt and grumble, and if she didn’t find anything, she wouldn’t have to listen to it. If she did ….well, he’d come back after her.

She dug into the depths of her front jeans pocket and pulled out that handy little squeeze-light she’d recovered from the truck when George and Bran had first kidnapped them.

Good grief — was it two days ago? It seemed like forever.

She beamed the powerful light around and shimmied herself into the narrowing end of the tunnel, feeling blindly with her hands. If this really was a James Bond movie, she’d find a passageway, or a hidden panel that opened a door further into the cave.

But nothing. Absolutely nothing.

She was just about to call out to Gabe when she heard him coming back down the passage. He must have realized she wasn’t behind him. He came around the corner and she opened her mouth to make the first wry comment that came to mind, but he lunged, and clapped a hand over her lips. His large body pushed her back, away from the corner, and she dropped her squeeze light. It bumped against her jeans as it fell.

“Someone’s out there.” His words, barely discernable, fed into her ear and she froze, closing her mouth under his fingers, her hand caught against his chest. She stepped back as if she could merge into the stones.

“How many?” she breathed in a barely audible voice. “Who?”

She felt him shake his head against her hair. They pressed back against the wall and listened, but Marina couldn’t hear anything. She could feel the outline of his belt buckle against her hip, and the angle of a shoulder against her ear when Gabe shifted. He bumped into her as he reached to the back of his waistband and she felt him pull his gun out.

Silent, hardly daring to breathe, she bent her legs, lowered herself to the ground, scrabbling silently for that little light. She was damned if she was going to be without her only weapon.

After brushing over small pebbles and the damp cave floor, her fingers closed over the micro-light, just as Gabe grasped her arm to yank her upright. “Follow me.” His words puffed hot into her ear, and Marina had to tuck back an exclamation of surprise that he hadn’t told her to stay put like a good little woman.

She followed. Listening.

Weapon leading the way, Gabe moved like a wraith, silently and swiftly. Marina stayed close enough to touch his shirt, but far enough back that if he turned quickly, she’d be spared the black eye. They traveled quickly back through the tunnel and just before they reached the larger chamber, simultaneously paused … and waited.

It was dark; nothing to indicate anyone was in the large chamber. No voices, no noises. Just silence.

“They’re gone.”

“Did you see them? What did you hear? Were they Skalas?”

“I don’t know if they were Skalas, but I do know that they didn’t come from outside.”

She’d been right. “You watch the entrance. I’m going to search this chamber. There must be some other entrance or passage that we missed.” She felt Gabe ready to protest, but she drowned out anything he might have said with her low-voiced comment, “You’re the one with the gun and the good aim.”

She thought he might have muttered something unflattering about her, or about women in general, but Marina chose not to take offense. She was too edgy; they were close and she knew it. And so did he.

And it wasn’t long … in fact, if she’d paid closer attention when they first entered the large chamber, she would have seen it right off. Instead, the tunnel leading out of the main chamber had worked perfectly as a decoy for any curious party that might have visited the cave. A red herring, so to speak.

And if Gabe had not left her side when he did, and had not heard the others come along, and from where ….they would have been content to leave, believing they’d explored all there was to explore.

But when Marina found it, the raised pattern on the wall, cleverly designed to blend into the water-drip stains and striations in the rock, she knew it was what she’d been looking for. A large rock, too big for a human to move alone ….or at least, that was how it appeared. She touched it and it shifted at her barest movement.

“Gabe!” she called, still quiet.

He dashed a glance back out into the sunlight, then loped over to her.

She didn’t have to explain; a simple gesture, and he understood immediately. “They left the cave,” she confirmed. The last thing she wanted was a surprise on the other side.

“Yes. They left, and were talking about getting something to eat,” he added with a short laugh. Apparently even potential terrorists had human needs. “And something about getting to Detroit.”

“Detroit? Something to mention to Colin next time you call him. Let’s go.” She pushed the stone and it slid away, rolling as smoothly as if it were a horizontal elevator. “Holy shit. This is James Bond,” she breathed.

The comparison of the rock-door to an elevator was so appropriate, Marina gave a soft laugh as she stepped into a world of sleek metal and low, glowing lights. Everything reflected silvery and metallic, and looked as new and pristine as the inside of a new car engine.

“What the hell is it?” she asked, stepping toward a rounded bubble-sort of object that looked like a metal egg, popping from the stone wall.

The egg was approximately ten feet in radius, and appeared to be wedged into the cave wall itself. But when Marina squeezed her little light and shone it onto the egg, they saw that the opening in the stone wall was rimmed with metal. Looking down, she expected to see train tracks; for the egg reminded her of a round mining car.

But no tracks on the ground. Just damp, glistening metal on what had been the cave floor.

“There’s a door, or a hatch, it looks like.” Gabe had restuffed his gun back into the back of his jeans, and was smoothing his hands over the pod. Just as he spoke, a soft click sounded in the room, and the door popped away from its moorings and slid open — like the side door of a mini-van.

Marina didn’t hesitate. She followed him through the door and they found themselves in a small chamber with seats arranged in facing rows. The hair on the back of her neck lifted.

“It’s like a plane … or a limo.”

“The only thing it’s missing is a wet bar,” Gabe commented. “Or a bed.” He sat in one of the seats and flipped open a small door on the console next to it. “Here are the controls. Want to take it for a spin?”

“I’m game. Even if you can’t offer me any champagne.” She closed the door, and found the lock to secure it. Selecting a seat across from Gabe, she sat down and looked at him.

“We could end up anywhere,” he said. “There doesn’t appear to be much in the way of navigation. It’s just … red for stop, green to go ….and nothing else. You still on?”

“Yep.”

He began flicking switches. Lights dimmed, then courtesy lights flared near the floor. The only illumination was inside the console with the controls, and which was obviously meant for only one person to manage.

The egg, for lack of a better term, shifted and rumbled beneath their seats. It moved; Marina could barely tell it was moving, it was so smooth, but the hum and initial slight jerk reminded her of an elevator. Then it stopped, and they heard the sounds of metal moving, gliding; and then, with a dull thud, slamming into stillness.

It sounded like a door closing; and it came from behind Marina’s seat, from the direction in which the large chamber sat. She guessed that the pod had somehow moved out of the main large chamber and they were now in some other passage or channel.

There were no windows in their vehicle, so they couldn’t know for sure. All was still.

Then, a roar, muffled by the metal surrounding them, and the pod began to shimmy slightly. A soft hissing sound filled the air and Marina drew herself up sharply. Gas? Were they going to be poisoned? Drugged?

She started to unbuckle her seatbelt, then realized what it was. She’d heard it; experienced it often enough. It was oxygen … pressurizing the cabin, just like an airplane.

Suddenly, the shimmying settled into a smooth, dull rhythm, and without warning, the pod began to move. Fast. Smooth, but fast and surrounded by the dull roar. It sounded like a great sucking sound — what Ross Perot had long before fancifully described as the expected result of NAFTA.

Marina smirked at the thought, even though she had no idea where she was going. And if she would make it there alive.

They rode for some time. Perhaps thirty minutes; perhaps longer. Marina wasn’t sure, as her watch didn’t seem to be keeping time any longer.

“Should you stop this thing at some point?” she asked.

“There doesn’t appear to be any way to do so.”

“I thought you said there was red to stop and green to go.”

“I misspoke.”

Marina felt the sudden urge to throttle the man across from her. He looked entirely too smug — most likely at her consternation. “What happened to the red button?”

“It’s not red any more. It’s off. I don’t think there’s any way to stop this thing until it gets to wherever it’s going. Like an elevator.”

“In the elevators I’m used to, there are always emergency stop buttons.” Marina didn’t know why she was bothering. Perhaps he was just as anxious as she was, but he chose to show it with sarcasm. “Is there a fuel gauge? Something to indicate how long we might be zipping along here in limbo?”

“The only gauge shows something called pressure. And the dial jumped from the red to the green, which is the far side, as soon as we started moving. It hasn’t budged since.”

“That champagne is sounding good right about now,” Marina snapped.

“Might as well get some sleep. Wake me when we stop.” Gabe yawned, and he actually closed his eyes, letting his head drop back onto the headrest of his chair. Then he opened one dark blue eye. “Unless you can think of something better to do.”

Come to think of it, the chairs were pretty comfortable — and designed for sleeping, if the tilt of the headrest was any indication.

Well, if she couldn’t beat him, she could join him.

She let her head tip back and felt the curve of the headrest cup her skull. Might as well get some rest. Who knew what they would be up against when they finally stopped.

And if they didn’t stop, well, then, she’d go to her death without even knowing it.

They did stop, finally, and Marina came awake as the low rumble beneath her ebbed into stillness. The console lights dimmed and overhead lights came on. Gabe was awake too, and they looked at each other across the way. Marina unsnapped her seat belt.

“Please remain in your seats until the aircraft has come to a complete stop.”

Marina ignored Gabe’s attempt at humor, but she didn’t miss the edge in his voice — nor his spare, smooth action of picking up the gun and hefting it in his hand.

“What time is it? How long have we been traveling?” she asked, knowing that his sat phone would be the best measure of accurate time.

Gabe flipped it open. “About three hours, total. It’s about 4:00 in the pm.”

The pod jerked rather more harshly than it had at the beginning of the journey, signaling that it wasn’t finished with its trip. Marina felt another, more minor jolt, and heard a low snick as something clicked into place, and then everything was deathly silent.

Marina flipped the seat belt straps away and stood as they clattered against the sides of her seat. The palms of her hands felt slick and her throat dry. Gabe, on the other hand, was already fiddling with the lock on the door as if he was a prisoner finally finding his escape.

Marina was a bit more worried about what they might find on the other side of the door than being stuck in close quarters any longer.

The door slid open and instinctively, Marina slammed herself back inside, against the wall, across from Gabe. That left the opening clear in case someone or something was waiting.

But the area through which they looked was still and empty and appeared similar to the cavern they’d left behind hours before. Gabe stepped down from the pod onto the smooth floor, and that was when Marina noticed that it wasn’t rock, but tile. Metal tiles, glowing a cool silver in the well-lit room.

The lighting wasn’t harsh in the metal and rock chamber; it could have blared like a spotlight. But instead, it was welcoming and just bright enough that she could see the entire interior of the chamber and a doorway that was surely an exit.

Gabe had stepped a few paces away, and she noticed that he was pushing buttons on his satellite phone.

“Calling Bergstrom?” she asked, stepping near him.

“I will as soon as I figure out where we are.”

“You have GPS on there. Great!” Marina was wondering if they’d traveled outside of Canada during their three-hour journey, or whether they’d strayed into Alaska.

Gabe was frowning, and the expression on his face changed as she watched. “Don’t tell me we traveled back down to Michigan,” she said.

“There’s no way.” He was staring at the numbers. Then he punched some more, and stared at them again. “Impossible.”

Marina felt odd. In her experience, stoic Gabe did not often have moments where he showed such pure astonishment. “Where are we, then?”