Gorgon: An Alex Hunter Novel (25 page)

Evening lengthened into night as the HAWCs jogged to the Psychro Caves. Franks ran beside Rogers, with Jackson a dozen paces behind them, and Sam and Alex the same distance out in front. A HAWC was trained to run all day and all night and still be fresh enough to enter a hand-to-hand combat scenario on arrival in a conflict zone. But they were all feeling the heat. Though the biological armored suits were lightweight, and the sun had gone down, the ground still gave off residual warmth.

The pace was hard, and Rogers blew air and wiped his brow. ‘Hot.’

‘Sure is.’ Franks looked across at him. ‘Lookin’ a little flushed there, Junior.’

Rogers grinned. ‘I’m the same age as you.’

‘Yeah, but I’ve been a HAWC for four years. You’ve been in for one. To me that makes you just one year old … Junior.’

The group pushed on, keeping in formation. They still had miles to go. The plan had been to commandeer a vehicle, but seeing they needed to keep a near-invisible profile they had to skirt towns and stay off major roads. The back roads were overgrown, dusty, and about as inhabited as Mars.

Rogers lowered his voice. ‘What do you think about this Magera thing? The boss said he heard it weeping.’

Franks snorted. ‘I’ll fucking make it weep all right.’

Rogers laughed. ‘I bet you will. Hey, you know that professor said it might be a living god.’

‘A god?’ She scoffed. ‘Let me tell you about the time I was in the Appalachians. I went up against something the Native Americans used to refer to as the god of the mountains.’

‘Let me guess. You killed it,’ Rogers said wearily.

Franks grinned. ‘Nah, it threw me off a cliff.’

Rogers laughed. ‘That still makes you the expert in my book.’ His face became serious. ‘This thing tore the Turkish Spec Ops guys in half – legs one way, guts and head the other.’

‘I read the briefing too,’ she said, her eyes bright. ‘That’s a good thing.’

‘Huh?’ Rogers frowned.

‘If it can do that, it has physical form. If it has physical form, we can inflict damage … and if we can damage it, we can fucking kill it.’

‘Yeah.’ He reached up a forearm to wipe his brow. ‘How much further?’

Franks looked at a small box strapped to the inside of her wrist. ‘Just eighteen to go.’

She saw that Sam and Alex in front were chatting as they ran at a speed that was almost a sprint for her shorter stride. As far as she was concerned
the boss
was back. She still thought that inside him there lurked something unspeakably violent, but she guessed there were demons running loose in all of them. He’d kept it together and under control in Italy, and he’d been ice cool ever since. But she doubted that cool would be maintained if he got in front of Uli Borshov.
Good
, she thought.

Franks smiled; she rated herself highly skilled in combat and warfare, even among the HAWCs. With the Arcadian back, and Sam in a full MECH suit, the super-soldiers bolstered their team.
Look out, world
, she thought.

Alex and Sam kicked up the pace another notch.

‘They aren’t even sweating,’ Rogers said.

‘Go and complain.’ Franks winked and lifted her stride.

He snorted, and increased his pace. ‘I’d rather die.’

*

Matt lay on the bed in the hotel room, arms behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. They’d given themselves a few hours off while they waited to meet up with Vangelis’ men at the cave. The room was cool, the sheets clean and pressed, and fatigue dragged on his frame. But still he couldn’t drift off. His mind kept whispering warnings, refusing to let him slip away.

Truth was, he was dreading going into the deep caves. The thought of swimming in inky water beneath mega-tons of rock made him want to throw up. His mind was dredging up memories of previous encounters with things from his worst nightmares – things that really existed. He’d accompanied a team of scientists and HAWCs to the Antarctic, where they’d gone down into the darkness beneath the ice. Of all the fifty on that mission, only three had returned: Matt, scientist Aimee Weir, and Alex Hunter. There were things down in that subterranean darkness that had torn at his sanity. He’d spent years working hard to push them into a secure part of his brain, imprisoned under a mental lock and key. He was rarely successful at keeping them there.

The doorbell buzzed, and he nearly leaped a foot into the air.

‘Matt.’ It was Reece Thompson. ‘Downstairs in ten.’

Matt tried to calm his rapid heartbeat and swung his legs over the side of the bed. ‘Got it, Reece.’

He stood, and rubbed his face hard. ‘In and out in a few hours – no problem,’ he told himself. ‘No problem at all.’

Fifteen minutes later, he exited the elevator and crossed the empty foyer to see Thompson standing outside in the humid night air. There was an enormous moon rising.

Thompson nodded and Matt returned the gesture. ‘Nice night for a swim.’

‘Or to blow some shit up,’ Thompson replied.

‘Let’s hope our friends get us the right explosives.’ Matt raised his eyebrows. ‘And they’re the real thing.’

Thompson grunted. ‘I’ll know if they’re real or not, don’t worry.’

Rebecca pushed through the doors and stretched. Her eyes were slightly puffy. ‘Couldn’t manage a cat nap – overtired, or overexcited, I guess.’

‘Tell me about it.’ Matt half-smiled. ‘Don’t worry, this’ll be fun.’

She looked at him like he’d just grown another head. ‘Fun … for who?’

His smile fell away, and he couldn’t meet her eyes. ‘Well, if we find something that gives us a clue how to control Magera, and perhaps save lives, it’ll be worth it. Agreed?’

Rebecca bobbed her head once, and turned away.

‘Load ’em up, people,’ Thompson said. ‘It’s about an hour’s drive up to the plateau.’

The road soon gave way to a dirt track, and the Land Rover rocked and bounced along it, heading up the mountain. Vapor rose from the ground like ghosts between the pine trees.

The moonlight showed three big men standing beside a truck near the entrance to the main cave. The truck looked in worse condition than their Land Rover, Matt thought.

Thompson eased the Land Rover to a stop. ‘Welcoming committee’s already here.’

‘The birthplace of Zeus,’ Rebecca said, and stepped down.

Matt and Thompson followed, but Matt noticed the soldier kept the car door open between himself and Vangelis’ men, and his hand hovered near his gun. He quickly ran his eyes over the dark rocks bordering the cave, and the stands of pines rising around them, before returning to the men. Only then did he step out fully.

He nodded toward the men’s truck. ‘Where’s our equipment?’

Matt began to translate, but one of the men waved at him to stop. ‘We understand. That is why we are chosen to be here, to … help you.’ He smirked. ‘I am Antonis Papariga – call me Tony.’ He pointed to the large man on his left. ‘Petro.’ And then to the one at his right. ‘Andronus.’

Tony walked to the truck and dropped the backboard to reveal wetsuits, air tanks, goggles and flippers, knives, numerous lights, hammers and spike bars like long crowbars, shovels, and even some spear guns. There was also a heavy metal box with a yellow warning symbol on the front.

Tony flipped it open. ‘This was not easy to get so quickly.’

Thompson walked over and peered inside. Matt could see there were six packages the size of a large block of butter, twice as many as they’d requested, each wrapped in brown paper with Greek writing and more warning symbols. Thompson lifted a block, squeezed it slightly, and held it to his nose. He nodded, replaced it, and then lifted what looked like a capped silver pen.

He turned to Matt. ‘All good.’

Tony grinned and held his arms wide. ‘Mr. Vangelis hopes for a good return on his investment.‘ He unbuttoned the front of his shirt, opening it slightly to show a wetsuit underneath. ‘Now, you pay for equipment. Ten thousand euros.’

There were urgent words from behind him, and Tony nodded, then turned back to Matt. ‘For each of us.’

‘What?’ Matt spluttered.

Rebecca crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. ‘Why don’t we see what Mr. Vangelis says about this, hmm?’ She held up a slim phone, and started to press numbers.

Tony’s face went red, then he grinned and waved his hand. ‘No, no, do not call. I was only having big joke with you. We are ready when you are, Professor.’

Matt nodded. While the men unloaded the truck, he whispered to Rebecca, ‘You don’t really have his number, do you?’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘Nope … but they don’t know that.’ She leaned closer to him. ‘Should we wait for the HAWCs?’

Matt thought for a second or two, then shook his head. ‘The search could take hours, and they might be still miles away.’ He sucked in a deep breath. ‘Let’s make a start.’

*

Matt’s heart was racing. The night air surrounding them was warm, humid, and pine-scented, but he felt a depressing cold radiating from the blackness of the Psychro Cave. He detected a faint movement of air, and with it a whiff of rocks and moss and dampness. He shivered even though he wore a rubberized wetsuit.

Like Rebecca and Thompson, he had a backpack over his shoulders containing excavation equipment, climbing gear, and extra flashlight batteries. Thompson got to carry the explosives. Matt looked at their three Greek minders. All wore wetsuits over their sizable frames, and two had shoulder holsters. Matt wondered what they’d do with the guns when it came time to enter the water.

He pointed to Tony’s holster. ‘You know, a gun goes off down there, we could all be buried alive.’

Tony shrugged. ‘Then we hope we don’t need them.’ He nodded toward Thompson. ‘I think these peashooters are not as loud as your friend’s gun, huh?’ He winked, but Thompson ignored him.

‘They’re dangerous,’ Matt persisted.

‘And the fucking explosives – are they for redecorating?’ Tony said with a grin. He nodded toward the dark cave opening. ‘Do we go in or what?’

Rebecca narrowed her eyes. ‘I’ve got a bad feeling about these guys,’ she whispered to Matt. ‘Once we get down there and show them anything of value, we may not get out again.’

‘Yeah, well.’ Matt gave her a crooked smile. ‘It’s not really them I’m worried about. There are far worse things in caves than thugs with guns.’

Thompson gave them the go-ahead, and Matt sighed. He switched on his headlamp and aimed his big flashlight into the stygian darkness. Behind a heavy metal gate, concrete steps with a railing led down into the dark.

‘Abandon hope all ye who enter here,’ he whispered.

Rebecca finished the quote. ‘Through me you pass into the city of woe. Through me you pass into eternal pain.’

Thompson groaned. ‘Is that supposed to be motivational? Because it’s not working.’

Matt smiled despite his fear. ‘Dante’s 700-year-old poem about Virgil’s travels to Hell.’

Thompson rolled his eyes. ‘Like I said, motivational.’

Tony went first, unlocking the gate and heading down the steps into the darkness. Fifty feet in, he stopped at a small metal box fixed to the wall with a large padlock at the bottom. He inserted another key, popping the padlock open, and lifted the lid of the box to expose rows of switches. One after the other he flipped them down. With a clanking sound and a hiss of sodium, lights began to shine overhead, behind stalagmites and stalactites, and from within smaller grottos, all illuminating a wonderland of different mineral colors.

Matt snorted. ‘You can see why earlier inhabitants thought this was a magical place.’

‘Brave little buggers, coming in here in the dark,’ Thompson observed as he looked around.

‘And nothing but ghosts for company,’ Rebecca said.

As they descended, the temperature seemed to drop a degree every dozen feet. The colored lighting gave the caverns a mystical feel, and signs on the walkway indicated the names the natural structures had been given: Hades’ Grotto, Zeus’ Throne, Titan’s Spear.

Matt pointed out a pathway worn into the stone along one of the walls. ‘Probably where Minoan feet trod thousands of years ago.’

After twenty minutes they came to an enormous central pit, with a lake another hundred or so feet below. The water was so still it could have been glass. There was a hoicking noise and then Petro let loose a gobbet of spit that sailed downwards.

Matt shook his head and cursed.

The blob struck the surface and created ripples on a lake that had probably lain undisturbed for over a century. The big man grinned, and was dragging up another gobbet when Thompson came up behind him and nudged him hard in the back.

‘Ach!’ Petro pulled back from the edge, looking panicked. He glared at the Englishman.

‘We’ve got to swim in there, you dumb bastard,’ Thompson said, his eyes daring the Greek.

Tony snorted, and smacked Petro over the back of the head. ‘Work first, play later.’

It took them another hour to reach the lowest level of the cave. At a nod from Thompson, Matt stepped over the guard rail and edged along a narrow slab of rock to the lake’s edge. Lights had been placed just at its surface to illuminate the shallows. The water was so clear that, unless you concentrated, it was hard to see where it started and the air stopped. He looked up and saw an alcove across the pool, with a portion of wall and a few fragments of paving tiles still embedded in the ground. Marble covered a flat rock that would have been a magnificent polished surface thousands of years before.

‘Hercules’ Table,’ Matt said. ‘This is where Professor Myres found many of the artifacts back in 1896 – axe heads, darts, and knives.’ Matt looked at Tony. ‘There were also gem-encrusted daggers, a golden chariot, and beautifully carved ivory figurines – all priceless.’

Tony grinned and nodded.

Matt adjusted the angle of his headlamp, shining it into the darker recesses of the cave. ‘The ancient Greeks, Minoans, and even the early Neolithic tribes, held festivals deep in these caves, usually heralding the change of the seasons, and when they wanted to bring fertility back to the earth. Gifts of gold, weaponry and, in many cases, virgins were thrown into cave pools and volcanoes. Dozens of skeletons of young woman were pulled from the silt of this pool alone.’