Area 51: Excalibur-6 (33 page)

another in his parka. As he brought it to the magazine well, it slipped out of his fingers, falling down the mountain. Olivetti reached for the third magazine.

Aksu turned to Lexina, blood bubbling up through his oxygen mask. He was trying to say something, but he couldn't make a noise. She reached around his body for the automatic weapon dangling by its sling.

She rested the barrel on Aksu's shoulder and took aim at the sniper. She pulled the trigger just as she saw the blossom of flame from his rifle, indicating he'd fired. She kept the trigger pulled, as the thirty-round magazine emptied on full automatic. About a third of the way through the magazine she felt Aksu's body jerk from the impact of the sniper's round.

The fire was wild, bullets spraying the rock face well above Olivetti's location. That changed the moment Olivetti's round struck the body concealing the rifle, jerking its muzzle down. A string of bullets chipped away from ten feet above his head, moving down, two rounds slamming-into his body and the rest below his feet.

Olivetti blinked, feeling the wounds, not quite believing he'd been hit. The nanovirus went into overdrive, forcing him to keep moving. He reaimed the sniper rifle, shifting the reticules to the head that could be seen behind the body he'd already shot twice. Olivetti pulled the trigger.

The bullet hit Lexina directly between her red cat eyes, plowing through her skull.

Olivetti slumped in his harness, life draining from his body. Faintly he heard McGraw's surprised yell. Twisting in the

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opposite direction, he saw someone coming around the cornice, hooked into the protection they had put in.

McGraw was standing on the ledge, his ice ax up in a defensive position. With a dying effort, Olivetti brought up the rifle and pulled the trigger repeatedly.

As the magazine ran empty, he slumped away from the mountain, held in place by his harness.

The bullets slammed into the figure, blood spraying out the exit wounds onto the cornice, a melange of red on white. The body slid off the ledge and dangled five feet below, held up by the safety line.

McGraw turned back to the shallow cave and returned to chipping away at the ice with his ax.

Turcotte was nearly pulled from the mountain as the rope abruptly jerked downward. His harness, instead of going up, was being pulled down. With one hand on the mountain, Turcotte reached down and with great difficulty unsnapped from the line. He shoved the MP-5 around so that it was against his chest. Then he continued. He'd heard the firing and didn't know what to expect.

He reached the cornice. There was no ledge around it. He had to assume there was a continuation of the ledge on the other side. Turcotte realized his heart was racing, pounding in his chest frantically, trying to push blood that simply didn't have the oxygen anymore.

If he missed his hold on the other side—if there was no hold on the other side—

Turcotte shook off that thinking. The safety line went around, even though it was down near his knees. He leaned his mask-covered forehead against the side of the mountain for a few seconds. Then he pulled away and reached as far to his left as he could with his hand, then his foot. He pushed off from the mountain, scrambling for a

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hold. His left foot touched the ledge and he continued to swing around until he was on the other side.

Turcotte was presented with Mualama dangling limply on the safety line; a man hanging dead in his harness; another man with his back to him, swinging an ice ax at the small cave; three bodies seated on a shelf in front of the cave; and in the cave, protected by only a few remaining inches of ice, Excalibur.

Turcotte was using both hands to edge his way closer and the man with the ax seemed oblivious to everything except the task at hand. As Turcotte stepped around Mualama's body, the man suddenly wheeled, ax held high. Unable to defend himself, Turcotte waited for the blow to fall, staring into the man's deranged eyes.

The man's eyes seemed to focus for a moment and shifted down to Turcotte's parka, fixing on the Special Forces insignia pinned there. Turcotte saw the insignia on the man's coat—the trident, anchor, pistol, and eagle symbol of the Navy SEALs. They locked eyes, the ax wavering in the air. The conditioning of the guardian tried to suppress the decades of SEAL training.

The ax came flashing down, cutting through the nylon straps attached to the man's protection. Turcotte could have sworn he saw the faintest smile on the man's lips as he fell out and away from the mountain, taking his dead partner with him. Turcotte put both feet on the ledge, ignoring the three frozen bodies, his attention completely captured by the sword. The pommel glittered as it caught the rays of the setting sun and he could see the carvings on the scabbard. Only a scant inch of ice remained.

Turcotte hooked his nylon loop into one of the pieces of protection, then lifted his ice ax.

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CHAPTER 20: The Present

MOUNT ARARAT

Major Briggs fired a controlled three-round burst, the rounds hitting the lead Kortad and bouncing off. Briggs cursed and ducked back behind the protection of the wall as several bolts of gold shot by.

"This is not good," he understated to Yakov and Kakel.

"Maybe whatever they're shooting would damage the Master Guardian," Yakov said.

"And?" Briggs extended his weapon into the corridor and fired without aiming.

"If we go in the chamber," Yakov said, "they might not use it."

'That is—" Kakel began, when a golden bolt bounced off the wall behind him and struck him in the back. He tumbled to the ground unconscious.

"Damn it," Briggs cursed as he stuck his firing hand out and pulled the trigger.

A golden bolt struck the weapon and his hand. A golden field enveloped his body and he slumped to the floor.

Yakov didn't waste any more time. He ran across the bridge to the Master Guardian, then around the narrow ledge to the far side, away from the entrance.

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VICINITY MIDWAY ISLAND

"We've got forty bogeys inbound," the operations officer announced.

Admiral Kenzie had just finished listening to the strike report from his air wing. CAG's sacrifice was noble, but given the bogeys flying toward his fleet he had to assume the other alien carriers had gotten aircraft in the air.

He'd been dreading this moment ever since leaving Pearl Harbor, but he'd also been preparing for it. He'd maneuvered his ships over deep water and had each ship's captain initiate the preparations for what he was about to order.

For the first time since leaving Pearl, Kenzie made a transmission, making sure each ship played it over their intercom so every sailor in the fleet could hear.

"This is Admiral Kenzie. I am ordering strike wing two to launch immediately. As soon as the last plane is in the air, we will"—he paused, almost unable to say it, then forcing himself to go on—"we will scuttle every ship in the task force.

"We have no choice. If we are still here when those planes arrive, they will absorb both the ships and us into the Alien Fleet. I would rather be dead, and have our ships sunk in deep water, than allow that to happen and for us to be used against our own homeland.

"Strike wing two, begin launching and do your best to avenge us. Attack when their strike planes try to land."

MOUNT EVEREST

The last piece of ice fell away. Turcotte reached in, his hand closing around the hilt of Excalibur.

Stars flashed in his head and he fell to his knees. He tried reaching for the hilt again and once more he was struck from behind. Turcotte crumbled to the rock in front of the sheath

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as Mualama leaned over him. In the archaeologist's hands was a blue stone, pulsing with light.

The stone could not touch the sword. Turcotte knew that as surely as if it had been shouted out from the top of the mountain. The ax was still in his other hand. He struck out from his prone position, the point puncturing the African's leg and buckling the knee. Mualama scrambled, trying to place the stone on the hilt. Desperately, Turcotte looped one arm around Mualama's throat, pulling him back, but the African was stronger, getting to his knees with inhuman strength.

Out of options, Turcotte kept his grip on Mualama and shoved away from the mountain with his feet, sliding off the ledge. He free-fell two feet to the end of the nylon strap, pulling Mualama with him. The archaeologist tumbled backward, the stone flying out of his hand as he grasped for a hold to keep from falling, which he found by grabbing the arm around his neck.

Turcotte grunted in pain as Mualama came to a halt, dangling below him with a death grip on his forearm. Turcotte glanced up—the piton was strained, moving very, very slightly. He knew it wouldn't hold very long. He slashed with the ax he still held in his free hand. The point struck Mualama's arm, piercing skin and lodging between the bones in the forearm. Turcotte levered the handle of the ax, pressing outward on both bones, then they snapped. And still Mualama kept his grip.

Turcotte gasped as Mualama's mouth opened wide, wider than humanly possible and something gray appeared, slithering out. Three "fingers" on the end were grasping as it continued to exit the African's body, reaching toward Turcotte's arm, still in Mualama's grip. Only when they grasped Turcotte's arm did the African let go. As the body fell, the en-

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tire length of the gray creature ripped out of the body, over six feet long, pieces of Mualama's spine still attached.

Turcotte shuddered, scrambling back, shaking his arm to get the thing off, but it was slowly inching its way up his arm. Blindly he reached back, his hand finding Excalibur's hilt. He pulled it out of the sheath and slashed down, slicing the Swarm tentacle in half. The two pieces fell to the ground next to him. Turcotte staggered to his knees, completely exhausted, and watched as both ends shriveled up.

Turcotte slumped back among the three frozen bodies, the naked blade of Excalibur across his knees.

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EPILOGUE: The Present

MOUNT ARARAT

Yakov peeked around the edge of the Master Guardian as he heard footsteps. Three Kortad stood in the passageway by the bodies of Briggs and Kakel. They were encased in black armor, swords strapped to their sides, and the strange spears were grasped in their hands.

One of them spotted Yakov and raised the spear. Yakov ducked back behind the red pyramid.

And at the moment it came alive, a fierce red glow pulsing out of its surface. At the same time a thick metal door slid shut in the passageway, locking the Kortad out of the room. The walkway smoothly slid back into the wall, isolating the Master Guardian—and Yakov—in the center of the empty sphere.

Swallowing nervously, Yakov raised both hands, stepped forward, and pressed them against the side of the pyramid. He was immediately enveloped in the red glow.

His hands felt the warmth of the machine. He gasped as the walls of the sphere came alive with images and his mind made contact with the alien machine and was overwhelmed with data.

Yakov ignored the input and focused on the priorities of commands he knew were needed to win the world war raging on the planet.

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VICINITY MIDWAY ISLAND

The last plane left the deck of the Kennedy. Admiral Kenzie watched its afterburners spit flame as it rocketed into the sky. He picked up the mike to give the order for all ships to be scuttled. He hesitated, holding it in his hand, all his training fighting against what he knew he had to do.

EASTER ISLAND

Aspasia's Shadow spun about as the golden haze around his guardian computer suddenly flared brighter. He stared at it, then screamed in dismay as the glow slowly faded out. He ran to the guardian and placed his hands on the side.

Nothing.

He glanced over at the Marines as they collapsed to the floor, the nanovirus receiving no input from the guardian. The bodies twitched and he could see a black flow from the mouths, noses, and ears—millions of nanoviruses exiting the bodies.

Aspasia's Shadow stood still for several moments as he registered this sudden development. Artad or the humans. One of the two had beaten his men to the Master Guardian and freed Excalibur. He wasted no time on self-recrimination or trying to hold on to a plan that had failed.

Aspasia's Shadow went to the control console and tapped in a complex code on the hexagonal displays. Then he grabbed the Grail and wrapped it in a white cloth.

He ran from the chamber into the tunnel leading to the bouncer.

On the side of the guardian, the probes that had been inserted into Kelly Reynolds's body began to retract until she was completely free of the machinery.

She slid down the side of the now quiescent alien device to the floor of the cavern.

Her eyes were crusted shut, her limbs atrophied. Her chest barely rose as she took a labored breath. Her mouth was open, parched, the tongue shriveled.

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And in her mind she rejoiced, as she was completely free of the guardian.

VICINITY MIDWAY ISLAND

Captain Lockhart staggered, fell to her knees, and screamed in agony as millions of microscopic metal creatures exited her body via every orifice. She threw up, her eyes teared. It was excruciating but mercifully quick. Within a minute she shook her head, slowly got to her feet, and looked about.

She was on the bridge of the Arizona and free of the alien control. Her hand snaked forward and she picked up the radio mike, recalling the strike force.

MOUNT ARARAT

The Kortad sprinted down the main center corridor of the mothership toward the front. Three turned at a corridor, heading to the right, the other continuing forward. They entered the main control room for the ship. One of them unfastened a panel, slid the point of a spear inside, and severed a line, effectively disconnecting the Talons that were docked around the front end of the craft from the Master Guardian's control. Another was at the master communications console, tapping on the various hexagons, powering up the short-range transmitter. The Kortad sent a message to Artad, informing him of the failure to seize the Master Guardian and requesting further instructions.