Temple of Fire (7 page)

Bridge

Aboard the
Alamiranta

 

“Hard to port,” Captain
Papagantis
ordered.

The helmsman spun the broad chrome wheel of the great ship as the orders were echoed at several stations on the Bridge.

The inner eye-wall of Typhoon Beatrice loomed only two miles ahead.  A massive column of ominous gray clouds rose into the sky, flashes of lightning streaking through the fierce storms churning up the Pacific.

“This is going to be close,” the Captain
said,
his voice nonetheless steady.

“The storm is retracing its course,” reported the chief navigator.  “It’s headed straight for us.”

 
Papagantis
stroked his chin.  Previously, he had allowed the typhoon to slowly overtake the
Alamiranta
from behind and then followed its track, emerging from the storm into the eye.  It had been a rough ride, but having the wall of Beatrice actually slam into the vessel in a head-on collision would be catastrophic.  The innermost bands of the storm would most certainly capsize the ship.

* * *

 

In the aft cargo hold below,
Pyro
felt the ship angle sharply to his left.  His body slid several feet and slammed into a steel hull-plate.  Because of steady nerves and quick thinking, he’d removed his hands from the circuit boards inside the Chinese torpedo just in time.  Pulling on the wrong wire could detonate the weapon.

“Throw me a line!”
Pyro
called to the bomb squad members, who had held on to a cargo container in the middle of the compartment.  “Pull me up so I can secure myself to the container and then lower myself down to the torpedo.”

Pyro’s
assistants did as he asked.  The explosives specialist resumed working on the torpedo as the ship lumbered through the sea at an eleven-degree angle.

The digital readout in the torpedo read
8:30
.

Eight hours and thirty minutes before detonation.

“I’ve only been working on this for thirty minutes!” exclaimed
Pyro
.  “The torpedo’s countdown sequence just skipped three hours!  The sharp turn apparently reset something inside the countdown mechanism.”

Pyro
took a deep breath and refocused his attention on the inside of the torpedo.  He now had no idea how long he had to disarm the weapon.

 

Titan Six

Astronomical Observatory

 

Hawkeye, Shooter, and Madison moved around what appeared to be an astronomical observatory.  The base of the relatively small step pyramid was inscribed with hundreds of glyphs: an unknown alphabet, plus stars, suns, and the moon in various phases.  Atop the structure were circular stones of different height, some with holes in the middle and situated so that priests could site celestial objects through narrow apertures.  Titan Six members continued to record everything they saw via their helmet cams.

Yet another tremor shook the city, a fissure opening up in front of the explorers.  In the lead, Hawkeye’s body fell backwards as the crack ran directly between his legs.  Madison and Shooter dove to the right, rolling to absorb the impact.

A loud grinding sound came from the earth as the opening appeared, smoke and steam rising from the rift.

“Hawkeye!”
Shooter called.

“I’m down here!”

Shooter crawled to the edge of the fissure as the tremor subsided.  The crack in the ground was five feet wide.  The sharpshooter peered into the dark chasm and saw her leader hanging on a ledge five feet down.

“It’s a bit hot down here!” Hawkeye yelled.  “Any help would be greatly appreciated!”

Bullets fired from atop the observatory tore through the air and bit into the limestone street around the team.

“Taking enemy fire!”
Shooter cried.  “Christian, get over here and throw Hawkeye a line!”

Shooter switched from her Calico semi-automatic to a LSAT machine gun, sending a barrage of 5.56 mm shells at the observatory’s pinnacle.  Chunks of stone from the top tier of the pyramid flew in every direction as the machine gun rounds relentlessly blasted the circular stones Shooter had seen only moments earlier.

Madison
was on his stomach, lowering a sturdy nylon rope to Hawkeye.

More bullets streaked from the top of the observatory.

“Pull, Christian!” Shooter barked.

“I’m trying!”
Madison
said.  “I’m trying!”

Inside the fissure, Hawkeye was pulling on the white nylon while trying to walk
himself
up the chasm, using his thick-soled boots to gain traction for each small step upwards.

“Almost there!” he said.

A tongue of flame licked upwards three feet from Hawkeye’s body.

Instinctively, Shooter stepped back and grabbed a concussion grenade from her belt.  Pulling the pin, she lobbed the grenade over her head in a thirty-degree arc.  It barely cleared the roof of the observatory.

Grunting, Hawkeye clambered out of the fissure with
Madison
’s help.  His upper torso and right leg were back on solid ground.

“Hold him tight, Christian!” Shooter said.  “And both of you — cover your heads!”

The top of the observatory exploded into a thousand fragments, stones raining down on the team.  One of the round circular stones landed on the back of Hawkeye’s right leg.

“
Owww
!”
Hawkeye wailed. 
“Son of a bitch!”

The dead body of a Chinese Dragon was catapulted through the air like a circus performer and fell to the ground with a muffled thud.  The gunfire ceased, as well as the steady pelting of stones and rocks from above.

Hawkeye attempted to stand, but fell to the ground like a scarecrow without bracing.

“I can’t walk,” he said.

Shooter and Madison grabbed Hawkeye, each taking an arm, and dragged him to a small, dark alcove in a nearby temple.

Shooter cut open a section of Hawkeye’s combat suit, exposing the injury to his leg.

“Your leg’s been crushed, my friend,” she said.

“I’m guessing he’s got a broken femur,”
Madison
said.  “Probably
a hairline fracture
since I don’t see any swelling.”

“Are you there, Ops?” Hawkeye said.

A loud explosion rocked the ground.

Shooter ventured from the alcove and looked into the sky.

“It came from the temple in the center of the city,” she said.  “Looks like that’s where the action is.”

“They don’t pay us enough,” Hawkeye said.  “Remind me to take that up with Mrs.
Caine
.”

 

Brick Dwellings

U.S.
Petroleum Blast Crater

 

Will Langhorne froze in his tracks. A bald-headed man, six-foot-six, was walking in his direction.  He strode confidently, his face expressionless.  He was wearing a black leather suit that resembled the wet suit of a skin diver.  Yellow and green lights blinked on the man’s chest and around his waist.

“
Whaddya
want?” Langhorne called.

There was no reply.

Langhorne drew a Colt .45 from his holster and fired three rounds at the approaching figure.

The man in the tight black suit quickened his pace.  Langhorne’s aim had been accurate, but the bullets had simply ricocheted off the menacing giant now ten yards away.  Each impact point had momentarily turned into a blur, as if the man were surrounded by a force field.

Will stumbled backwards, fell, and tried to crawfish away from the silent hulk.

The man leaned down and seized Langhorne by the shirt and, with one hand, lifted him two feet off the ground.

Will’s mouth hung open as he gazed at the man’s countenance, just inches from his own.  His enemy’s features were Chinese, but the irises of his eyes had no color.

“What do you want?” asked a panicked Will Langhorne.  “Just tell me, for God’s sake!  I’ll do anything you want.”

The man made no reply as he threw Langhorne over his shoulder and began walking across what had been a plaza thousands of years before.

On the other side of the plaza, the man carried Will down twelve stone steps.  They were beneath an ornate temple with half-moons carved into the walls of an underground chamber.

 

Titan Six

The
Royal
Palace

 

Tank, Quiz, and Gator stood before one of the larger stone buildings in the city.

“This was probably the
Royal
Palace
,” said Quiz.  “It’s quite a bit more majestic than anything else around here.  I’d estimate that fifty steps rise up to the stone porch.  I count ten columns supporting the roof.  When these stones were polished and painted thousands of years ago, this place must have been very impressive.”

Quiz took out his
Digi
-Palm, a small computer slightly bigger than a smart-phone.  It also had sensor capabilities.  “I’m getting
a readout
from the carbon dating chamber back in the EFV.  I also want to scan the glyphs and other symbols to see if they correspond to any known writing in the Titan data banks.”

“Gator,” said Tank, “you take the right, I’ll take the left.  I heard gunfire a few minutes ago.  Let’s scout the area and make sure we’re safe while Quiz does his thing.”

Gator nodded.  He carried his SAW, a machine gun that could issue thunder when fired.

* * *

 

Quiz looked at the carbon dating readings on his
Digi
-Palm.  The culture that had built the city had thrived around 30,000 B.C.  What was astounding was that most anthropologists believed that civilizations in the
Americas
at this time were tribes of agrarian farmers who also domesticated animals.  No one had envisioned an advanced civilization that rivaled the Egyptians in their scientific and mathematical skills.

The civilization had become a progenitor culture that gave rise to the great civilizations of
Egypt
, Central and
South America
, the
Middle East
, and
Asia
.

It was not surprising, therefore, when Quiz’s mini-computer was able to find translations for many of the hieroglyphs he had recorded from the mysterious, long-abandoned structures all about him.  Many of the writings, glyphs, and pictograms had found their way into other cultures on various continents centuries later.

The people that had once flourished in what was now the western
United States
had called themselves the
Nizia
.  The
Royal
Palace
had been occupied by many kings and queens.  One of the last royal couples had been King
Enhaht
and Queen
Qu
-Lo.

Quiz began receiving strange energy readings on his
Digi
-Palm.

* You need to follow that energy signature

immediately
. *

I can’t just wander off, Dante.  Gator and Tank would kill me.  And Mrs.
Caine
would have my head on a platter.

* If you don’t proceed due east now, the Chinese will discover the energy signature first.  You only have a few minutes. *

”Gator, Tank — do you read?” Quiz said.

There was no reply.

* They’re not going to answer.  They’re in trouble. *

“
Ops
Center
, do you read?”

Again, there was no reply.

* The
Alamarinta
will not answer either. *

Quiz began walking quickly to the east.  Dante was

frequently
annoying — but usually right.

 

Ops
Center

Aboard the
Alamiranta

 

“I’ve lost Titan Six,” said Touchdown.

“How can that be?” asked
Caine
.  “We’ve got a clear feed from the satellite.”

“We’re awfully close to the eye-wall of Beatrice,” Touchdown replied. 
“Lots of thunderstorms.
  The electrical interference is playing havoc with the instruments.”

The entire ship was leaning strongly to port as the
Alamiranta
continued to engage in its sharp turn away from the menacing typhoon.  To steady herself,
Caine
had to grip a chrome handrail that ran around the entire Center above the individual stations.

“Can’t you boost your signal?” asked
Caine
.

“We’ve taken a lot of systems offline, ma’am,” Touchdown replied.  “We’re trying to keep electronic pulses to a
minimum,
to the extent we can do so, so as not to detonate the torpedo.”

“Very well,”
Caine
said with pronounced frustration.  “Keep listening for Titan Six.”