The Nemesis Origin

XXXII

Ethan dashed in pursuit of Lucy as she ran into the darkness towards the vast blackened silhouette of Macchu Piccu. The aircraft was already departing to the north and Ethan realized with certainty that it would not be returning: the men who had been dispatched from the aircraft would not be returning home without their mission being accomplished, and had been deployed without the permission of the Peruvian government.

‘This way!’

Lucy’s whisper was harsh in the darkness, Ethan running hard behind her and trying to see ahead in the near pitch-black. The city was enshrouded in darkness, but the sky was beginning to glow with the first faint light of dawn, and Ethan could see both the city’s larger temples silhouetted against the dawn and a large wedge-shaped mountain soaring even higher than Macchu Picchu to the north.

Lopez ran alongside him and behind was Jarvis and his two escorts, the old man jogging along as best he could. To the right, a series of bright headlight beams swept by the visitor centre that was nestled at the base of the old city, the sound of car engines growling as the drivers pulled in and the sound of car door slamming in the darkness.

‘Hurry it up, keep moving!’ Ethan whispered.

The city was divided into terraces that Ethan presumed were once used to grow crops to feed the city’s inhabitants, the terraces descending away toward the sheer faces of the mountainside that plunged toward deep gorges far below. To either side of the great plaza around which the city was centred were ranks of buildings and temples, each with names like the Royal Palace and Tombs on the left of the plaza, the Sacred Rock at the far end of the plaza, and the Artisan’s Wall on the right, behind which were ranks of houses that ended abruptly in the sheer face of the mountain’s eastern flank.

Ethan hauled himself up off a final terrace and into the main plaza, Lopez alongside him as the two escorts behind hauled Jarvis up the ridge and onto the lawned plaza. Voices shouted out, Russian accents sharp against the night air and a series of flickering flashlight beams sweeping this way and that as the Russians began ascending the terraces from below.

Ethan looked up at the almost invisible figures descending on parachutes, black against blackness and barely a hundred feet above the surface of the terraced lawns.

‘This way, quickly!’ he whispered.

He turned to Lucy, but she had stopped in the centre of the complex and was staring at the towering mountain opposite Macchu Picchu.

‘Huayna Picchu,’ she murmured as though recalling something.

‘We need to get out of sight,’ Ethan snapped harshly. ‘We’re sitting ducks out here.’

Lucy appeared lost in thought, staring up at the jagged peak that was now a dark and foreboding presence against the faint dawn sky, rising far higher than Macchu Picchu. ‘It means young pyramid in Quechua,’ she said.

‘So what?’ Ethan asked impatiently.

‘Macchu Picchu is well documented and excavated,’ Lucy explained. ‘It holds no further secrets, but Huayna Picchu is less well known and contains remains of the Inca’s city too. If I were a royal Incan priest hoping to conceal the remains of what they believed were the children of the gods, then I’d hide their remains up there.’

Ethan stared up at the peak of the mountain. It soared over a thousand feet above Macchu Picchu, and was some eight thousand feet above the depths of the gorges surrounding it.

‘Can you get up there?’ he asked.

‘The Incas built a trail, Sendero a Huayna Picchu, but it’s very exposed and dangerous,’ Lucy said. ‘I can make it, but it’s at least half an hour even if I run at it.’

‘Go, now,’ Ethan said. ‘We’ll hold them all off for as long as we can.’

Lucy set off across the plaza toward Huayana Picchu as Ethan glanced up one last time at the descending parachutists. Ethan knew that they would be wearing night vision goggles or at the very least infrared heat sensors that would pick out the hot bodies of Ethan and his companions as well as the Russians. But those sensors would be unable to differentiate between friend and foe, and Ethan could only hope that the Russians voices were as audible to the descending Americans as they were to him.

Ethan ran toward a building opposite the Temple of the Three Windows and the Central Plaza and clambered up the steps, the stone cold to the touch as he ascended toward a dark and cavernous archway leading into the interior. He recalled from Lucy’s description that this was where Hiram Bingham had reputedly found the remarkable remains that had affected the rest of his entire excavation of this incredible site, not to mention his life.

He turned and waved Lopez and Jarvis inside along with the two escorts, and then he saw the shadowy figures of the parachutists landing on the palace lawns. A Russian voice yelled at him and a torch pointed directly at the palace, and then suddenly the American parachutists opened fire. A deafening clatter of machine-gun fire rattled out across the lawns and the Russians suddenly split and began dashing for cover, two of them crying out in pain as they collapsed. A chaotic flare of AK-47 fire was returned across the lawns and Ethan ducked out of sight into the temple entrance as the Americans laid down a controlled and lethal hail of fire against the Russians before they began retreating towards the Palace.

‘They’re shooting at Vladimir’s men,’ Jarvis observed with delight. ‘They’re covering us!’

Lopez shook her head. ‘They’re doing their job. If we get in their way they’ll kill us just as soon as they will the Russians. Get inside and undercover.’

Lopez unceremoniously shoved Jarvis further into the shadows and then took shelter either side of the temple entrance with Ethan and watched as the Americans fired controlled bursts against the Russians, keeping their heads down and controlling them. Pinned against the Artisan’s Wall alongside the Main Plaza, the Russians began retreating toward the temple steps.

‘Clever,’ Ethan uttered grimly as he watched the battle unfold. ‘They’re directing the Russians toward us.’

‘Two birds, one stone,’ Lopez replied and then ducked back out of sight as a salvo of shots smashed into the temple’s stone masonry around her.

Ethan watched as two of the Russians fired several shots out across the lawns of the Plaza against the Americans, and then they panicked and fled up the steps for the safety of the temple and higher ground, their rifles pointed out into the darkness.

Ethan looked at Lopez, who nodded from her hiding place in the shadows.

The first two Russians backed into the temple entrance, each of them turning into the same area of shelter as Lopez and Ethan, no doubt preparing to cover their colleagues as they retreated toward them.

Ethan wasted no time. He lifted his left boot and then hopped down onto it as he pulled his right knee up into the Russian’s side while dropping both of his elbows down in the opposite direction in order to place the maximum amount of weight and power behind his knee. The solid bone of his knee impacted at the base of the Russian’s ribcage and Ethan felt the bones snap like dried twigs as the Russian let out a garbled cry of agony and crumpled sideways into the wall as he tried to turn and bring his AK-47 to bear.

Ethan grabbed the stock of the rifle with his right hand as he brought the knuckles of his left crashing down across the Russian’s temple with every ounce of force he could muster. The gunman’s head snapped to one side and smacked into the stone wall of the temple and he slumped unconscious as Ethan yanked the rifle from his grasp and looked up to see Lopez in the process of driving her right knee into the other Russian’s groin and head-butting him as he folded over the blow. The soldier crumpled at the knees as a breathless wheeze of pain escaped from his lips, and Lopez swung a rock she held in one fist across his face to send him sprawling unconscious onto the cold stone floor.

Ethan checked the AK-47 in his grasp and was both surprised and pleased to see it well cleaned and maintained, a spare clip in the gunman’s jacket pocket. As he reached down his hand caught on something, and he realized that the Russian was wearing a parachute.

Lopez frowned down at it. ‘What the hell are they doing wearing those?’

Ethan pulled at the unconscious man’s arm and beneath it he saw a large, webbed fabric as though the man were wearing a bat costume. A quick check of the other arm revealed a similar web of rubber-like fabric.

‘It’s not a parachute,’ Ethan said as he realized what the man was wearing.

‘We can’t hold out here for long,’ Lopez pointed out as another round of gunfire smashed across the walls, two stray rounds entering the temple and causing Jarvis to duck down. ‘Two guns against many,’ she added as she rifled through the fallen Russian’s pockets.

‘We have to hold out for as long as we can. The more time we can give Lucy, the better.’

Lopez looked about her as though suddenly she realized that Lucy was no longer with them.

‘Where the hell has she gone?’

Ethan kept a watch on the gunfight raging outside, the noise of the shots deafening as though amplified by the temple’s narrow confines.

‘She’s going to retrieve the remains that she’s looking for,’ Ethan explained. ‘They’re not here in this temple.’

‘Then what the hell are we doing here?’

‘Hold the line!’ Ethan shouted as the sound of gunfire intensified. ‘On my mark, we take out the Russian’s backs, okay?’

Lopez nodded as they huddled near the temple entrance, gunfire raking the stones and steps outside as Ethan waited until it sounded as though the Russians were almost upon them.

Ethan stepped out and aimed down the steps at the men running up toward them just as Lopez poked her head out alongside him and they fired together. The twin muzzle flashes of the two rifles flared brilliantly in the darkness and illuminated the surprised and horrified faces of six Russians charging up toward them.

Ethan heard a brutal and rapid thump-thump-thump as the bullets impacted into the Russian’s bodies and they were hurled backwards to tumble down the steps or toppled over the edge and plunged down onto the plaza below.

The remaining Russians fled the steps and hurled themselves down behind the Artisan’s Wall as they sought an escape from the lethal crossfire.

‘The STS men are moving in!’ Lopez yelled.

Ethan saw the elite American troops now advancing by sections across the plaza, four men moving forward at a run while being covered by their comrades from behind. The four running men sprinted ten yards and then dropped into prone positions and opened fire as the four behind leaped up and ran forward under the fresh covering fire.

‘We’ve got to flank them and get out of here!’ he yelled to Lopez.

‘And go where?!’ she yelled back. ‘There’s nowhere to go but down and we won’t be able to sneak past the STS men! They’ll pick us off easily!’

Ethan flinched as a few wild rounds smashed into the stone wall behind which he hid, and in the distance he saw the vehicles the Russian’s had used to climb the mountain, their headlamps still illuminating the visitor’s centre through the trees beyond the plaza and the cultivation terraces on the mountain’s southern flank.

‘You need to get to those vehicles and make sure nobody else can follow you!’

Lopez nodded as she looked at the visitor’s centre and then fired off two rounds at the cornered Russians nearby.

‘What about you?’

‘They’ll have to finish off the Russians first,’ Ethan shouted back above the gunfire as he ducked back into cover. ‘Get Jarvis and his guys off the hill. If you can make it to the Temple of the Condor, you can get around behind them and the Americans and reach the main tourist trail. I’ll go after Lucy.’

‘If the Americans catch us we’ll be slaughtered!’ Lopez protested as she fired off another couple of rounds down at the Russians.

Ethan shook his head as he looked at the steadily brightening sky. ‘Neither the Russians or the Americans should legally be here. They’ll have to pull out before the tourists and armed guards arrive. This will all be over by sunrise.’

‘Fine!’ Lopez yelled back. ‘I’ll just fetch my magic goddamned carpet!’

Ethan looked at the gardens and the plunging cliffs behind the Temple of the Condor. ‘Don’t take the normal path across.’ He looked over his shoulder at Jarvis and his men. ‘I hope you three are all okay with heights!’

Ethan saw the American troops advancing on the Russians’ position, knowing that they were also cutting Ethan and his companions off from their escape by doing so.

The STS troops had crossed the plaza but were pinned down by the weight of the Russians’ firepower. Even though they were highly trained and disciplined, they were outnumbered three to one: they either would be forced to charge the Russians to end the fire fight, or retreat to fight another day.

Suddenly, the STS troops broke ranks and charged across the plaza, firing indiscriminately as they rushed to overwhelm the Russian position. Fully occupied with hunting down their armed adversaries, Ethan knew that this was their only chance to slip away.

Ethan turned back to Lopez. ‘This is it! Get to the main road and get down off the mountain. I’ll meet you in Cusco! Go, now, I’ll cover you!’

Lopez, Jarvis and the two escorts got to their feet and Lopez led them to the entrance of the temple. The stone steps were now devoid of Russians, who had pulled back and were crouched in groups in alleys all around the Artisan’s Wall almost a hundred yards away as they fired desperately on the charging Americans.

Ethan turned and fired off a full clip at both the Russians and the STS as Lopez, Jarvis and his escort hurried out of the temple and turned right, away from the steps toward the warren of alleys that descended the eastern slopes of the city and the mountain.

The AK-47 shuddered into silence in his grip as its clip emptied, and Ethan hurled the weapon to one side and made sure that Lopez and the others were away and clear. He glanced back into the temple as an idea crossed his mind, and he worked hurriedly before he fled the temple toward Huayna Picchu.

The sound of distant gunfire echoed off the hills as Lucy laboured ever upward, virtually crawling up the stone steps and forcing herself to keep looking straight ahead and not to her right, where the faint light of dawn was illuminating ethereal veils of wispy cloud drifting over the Urabamba River eight thousand feet below the sheer face of the mountain.

Lucy had taken the lower slopes at a run, climbing the winding track between the forests, sprinting as though pursued by the gunfire that she could hear raging in the distance across the ancient citadel. She knew that it would not be long before Ethan and Lopez were overpowered by one faction or the other, and her pursuers would know that there was only one place she could have fled.

Against the dark sky rose the towering peak of Huayna Picchu, overlooking the vast citadel below it. Still clad in jungle growth and vines protruding from the rocky crags of the mountain’s peak, it stood more than a thousand feet higher than its more famous companion remains, closer to the sky. Closer to the Gods.

Lucy crawled ever upwards, through tiny fissures in the rock face and across narrow ledges that overlooked the dizzying depths below and were so precarious that she was forced to crawl across them on her hands and knees just as Hiram Bingham had once done a century before her. Her breath sawed in her throat and her pace slowed as she laboured upward, driven forward only by the knowledge that somewhere half a world away a little girl might live if Lucy could overcome her exhaustion and fear and reach the summit.

The mountainside fell away to one side of the track, a sheer face that descended deep into the gorges far below. Wreaths of cloud hung like phantoms on the cold air around her as she climbed, her balance wavering with dizziness in the thin air as she laboured up the narrow track until finally she emerged, crawling once more, onto a narrow summit marked by a battered old wooden sign.

Lucy got to her feet and sucked in great breaths of air in an attempt to recover herself as she leaned against the sign and looked at the mountain peak before her. Enshrouded in dense foliage, the far side of the peak dropped away to reveal steep terraces and a series of crumbling stone temples clinging to the precipitous side of the mountain.

Lucy staggered across to the stone steps that led down toward the buildings and then suddenly her courage failed her as she reached the edge. The track was barely two feet wide, built from loose stone that descended alongside a stone wall to her left. To her right was literally nothing but an eight thousand foot fall down the sheer wall of the mountain toward the river far, far below. An updraft of wind billowed toward her from the plunging chasm and threatened to drag her off into oblivion.

Lucy gasped and gripped the edge of the wall as she looked away from the endless depths and tried to control her thundering heartbeat.

‘Just a little further,’ she urged herself.

Lucy set one foot down on the steps as she kept her face to the wall and slowly descended the treacherous path toward the temples below. Perched on craggy outcrops that seemed specifically designed to scare the hell out of anybody attempting to reach them, she could see the largest of them, a building that had once possessed a roof that had long since been destroyed by the elements.

Lucy reached the bottom of the stone steps, the view ahead consisting of a rocky outcrop and then another plunging drop into oblivion. She turned, still clinging to the wall as she stepped gingerly toward the temple, once again exposed to the sheer drop to her right. Lucy tried not to think about the fact that the only way off the mountain was to actually ascend those same steps all over again. She reached the entrance to the temple and walked inside with a deep breath of relief.

The temple was open to the elements and somewhat resembled a small church, built from stone with three openings to looking out of one wall toward the mountains and gorges outside, and higher walls front and back that would have supported the roof structure. The floor was of cobbled stones that fit tightly together, and ahead was what looked like a small altar set against the far wall beneath a single opening. Above it, the sun would shine through one of the windows at sunrise and illuminate the temple’s interior.

Lucy looked down at the front of the ancient stone altar, and there she saw engraved into the rock a single icon: a sun, with beams of light emanating from beneath it, or a quipu with its informative pendents. But this time the lines were all of the same length, save one.

Lucy moved forward and knelt before the altar as she examined the icon. The central line extending down from the sun was longer than the rest, as so often was the case, but this time the line extended all the way down and vanished into the ground at her feet.

‘This is it,’ she gasped, her voice sounding odd within the hollow building’s walls and in the sepulchral silence that enshrouded the temple. ‘This is where they placed you, a royal tomb, the highest in the entire empire and facing the sun.’

Lucy looked down at the stones beneath her feet. The Inca were expert stonemasons who built vast cities without mortar, shaped each and every stone to fit perfectly alongside its neighbours. Using the method, identical to that of the ancient Egyptians, they had constructed massive citadels that had stood for centuries despite the earthquakes that rocked the Andes mountain chain. The stone floor of the temple was as neatly fitted together as any other part of the entire construction, except for one tiny detail. Whereas all the other stones were fitted together so tightly that one could not pass even a slip of paper between them, a small number of the stones beneath her feet had moss growing in the gaps between them. Lucy stood up and backed away slightly from the altar to see that the moss formed a perfect rectangle among the stones beneath her feet, directly in front of the altar.

Lucy reached into her backpack and produced a folding shovel as she moved alongside the rectangle and place the tip of the shovel over one of the gaps in the stones. She drove her foot down onto the shovel and the metal scraped as it dug down into the gap, ever so slightly wider than those of the stones around it so that moisture and eventually moss had been able to grow and fill the gap.

The tip of the shovel sank only two or three inches down, but it was enough for Lucy to get leverage on the handle. She leaned her boot down upon it, bouncing her weight up and down, and with a scraping sound the stone lifted out of the ground as the shovel got beneath it and prized it from the earth.

Lucy levered the stone aside and began working on the next, prizing one after another out of the ancient soil until she could see bare earth in a rectangle before the altar. She got down onto her knees and began scraping the earth away with the trowel, gouging chunks of it away until her hands brushed against fabric.

Lucy gasped as she worked, pulled out more soil and scattered it all around her as she frantically excavated the tight bundle buried at the altar and stared down at it in awe.

In the shallow grave lay a burial shroud every bit as old as the ones that had been discovered decades before in Paracus, the body within completely concealed. Around the neck of the shroud was a quipu.

‘I found you,’ she whispered. ‘I finally found you.’

Lucy reached down and carefully pocketed the quipu as she unwrapped the head of the shroud, placing layer after layer of fabric on the soil next to her until she finally revealed the skeletal remains within. The skull appeared first and Lucy gasped as she saw it.

For the most part the remains resembled those of an ordinary child but for the fused breastplate and elongated digits with what looked like extra bones that made them longer than those of a human. But the skull was bulbous, swelling from a narrow, delicate jaw to a broad teardrop-shape somewhat resembling a giant light bulb. Two enormous cavities denoted the position of what had once been very large eyes, and even at a glance Lucy could tell that the cranial capacity was far greater than that of even an adult human.

But in that same glance her heart plummeted in her chest in disappointment.

The soil of the high Andes Mountains was damp and cold, and the flesh of the being she saw laying before her had long ago rotted away. A dense pall of grief pulled down so hard on her she felt as though it would drag her heart from her chest as she recognised the level of degradation that the remains had suffered. The bones were brittle and stained with mud, which she had no doubt had infiltrated deep into the marrow. Any genetic remains, any DNA that might have been present within the bones, would by now have become so degraded as to be useless.

Lucy rested her forehead on her hands for a moment as she took a deep breath. She pulled the quipu from her pocket and sadly began sorting through the knots and strings, and then slowly she began to feel her heart beat quicken once more.

‘You weren’t alone,’ she whispered to herself.

The quipu spoke its ancient dialect to her and she realized that once again directions were encoded into the message, directions that must point to further tombs.

Lucy wrapped the skull once more, and then tied the shroud back in place before she lifted the remains out of the tomb and turned for the temple exit. A single click alerted her to the presence of an intruder just as Vladimir Polkov stepped into the temple entrance, a pistol in his grip and a grim smile on his face.