Kennedy shook her head at Dahl. “Does the Swedish army have everything?”
“This sort of thing is essential,” Dahl told her seriously. “We have a hybrid version of this machine that detects landmines and hidden pipes. Very high-tech.”
The dawn had broken over the horizon and then been chased away by tattered grey clouds, when Parnevik gave a shout. “There! That image looks like an old Viking settlement. You see the circular outer rim — that’s the protective walls — and the rectangular objects within? They’re small dwellings.”
“So let’s pinpoint the largest house…” Ben began hurriedly.
“No,” Parnevik said. “That would be the community Longhouse — the meeting place or feasting place. Heidi, if she was indeed here, would have the second largest house.”
Clearer images were coming through as the plane descended slowly. The settlement was soon mapped plainly, several feet below ground, and the second largest home was soon evident.
“You see that,” Dahl pointed to a deeper colour, so faint that it might have been overlooked if someone wasn’t searching for it. “That means there’s a void, and it’s right under Heidi’s house. Damn,” he said turning around. “She built her home right over Mimir’s Well!”
THIRTY-TWO
Once they were on the ground and had trekked across several miles of damp grassland, Dahl called for a halt. Drake cast around at what he could only describe as — in the new spirit of Dino-rock Kennedy and he were sharing — a motley crew. The Swedes and SGG were represented by Torsten Dahl and three of his men, the SAS by Wells and ten soldiers. One had been left in Hawaii, wounded. The Delta team was down to six; then there were Ben, Parnevik, Kennedy and himself. Hayden had stayed with the plane.
Not a person among them appeared untroubled by the difficulties of their task. The fact that the plane was waiting, fully-fuelled and armed and with the Pieces on board, ready to fly them anywhere in the world, only brought the graveness of the situation into bolder relief.
“If it helps,” Dahl said when everyone looked expectantly at him, “I don’t see how they can find us this time,” he pointed. “Start by using the light explosives to clear a few feet down, then it’s shovel time.”
“Be careful,” Parnevik was wringing his hands. “We don’t want a cave-in.”
“Don’t worry,” Dahl said with good cheer. “Between the various forces here I think we’ve got an experienced crew, Prof.”
There was grumpy laughter. Drake scanned their surroundings. They’d set up a wide perimeter, leaving men atop several hills that ringed the place where the GPR system told them old Guardhouses once stood. If it was good enough for the Vikings and all that…
The flatlands were grassy and calm, the slight breeze barely ruffling a stand of trees that stood to the east of their position. A slight drizzle began and then gave up before trying again.
Ben’s mobile rang. His eyes took on a haunted appearance. “Dad? Just busy. I’ll ring you back this aft.” He closed the device with a look at Drake. “I’m out of time,” he mumbled. “They already know something’s up, just not what.”
Drake nodded, and watched the first explosion without flinching. Grass sod and dirt plumed into the air. It was immediately followed by another slightly deeper thump, and a second cloud rose out of the ground.
Several men clattered forward, holding shovels the way they held weapons. A surreal scene.
“Be careful,” Parnevik wittered. “We wouldn’t want anyone to get their feet wet.” He cackled as if it were the greatest joke in history.
A clearer survey picture had shown a hole beneath Heidi’s longhouse that led to an extensive cavern. Obviously, something more than a mere well lay down there and the team were erring on the side of caution. It took another hour of careful digging and several pauses whilst Parnevik crowed and studied unearthed artefacts before they struck thin air.
Drake used the time to organise his thoughts. To date, it felt like he’d been on a roller-coaster ride without any brakes. Even after all these years he was still more used to following orders than carrying out a course of action, so he needed longer to think than, say, Ben Blake. Two things he knew for certain — they were always on the back foot, and they had been forced by their enemies to react to situations, rather than create them; a result of entering this race behind their opponents, no doubt.
It was now time to start winning this race. Especially as they seemed to be the only faction dedicated to saving the world, rather than risking it.
So you believe in ghost stories? An old voice whispered in his brain.
No, he answered as he had back then. But I do believe in horror stories…
During his last mission as a member of the secretive SRT, a Special Branch of the SAS, he and three other members of his team — including Alicia Myles — had stumbled across a remote village in Northern Iraq, its inhabitants tortured, massacred. Assuming the obvious they had investigated… to find British and French soldiers, still in the throes of conducting their interrogation.
What followed would blight the rest of Matt Drake’s days on Earth. Blind with rage, he and two other team members had stopped the torture.
One more ‘friendly-fire’ incident among many.
Alicia Myles had stood and watched, not tarring herself with any brush one way or the other. She couldn’t stop the torture and she couldn’t stop the demise of the torturers. But she did follow the orders of her commanding officer.
Matt Drake.
After that, the soldier’s life was over for him, any romance it had held torn to pieces. But leaving the service didn’t mean the memories dimmed. His wife used to shake him awake night after night, and then slipped out of a sweat-soaked bed, crying to herself downstairs when he refused to confide.
Now he noticed Kennedy standing across from him, smiling as she had on the plane. Her hair hung free, her face turned lively and mischievous by the grin. Centrefold eyes and a Victoria’s Secret body, mixed with schoolteacher propriety and businesslike reserve. Quite a blend.
He grinned back. Torsten Dahl shouted: “Take a depth reading! We need a guide for the Descenders.”
When Ben asked him what a Descender was, he just grinned. “Straight out of Hollywood legend, my friend. Remember seeing a thief take a dive off a building and have his jump regulated down to the exact millimetre, at which point his fall is arrested? Well, a Blue-Diamond Descender is the device they use.”
“Cool.”
Drake noticed his old Commander inching his way around, and took a proffered flask of coffee. This chat had been coming awhile. Drake wanted it over with.
“Mai?” He asked, lips firmly pointed at the ground so that no one knew his question.
“Hmm?”
“Just tell me.”
“Good God, man, after the marked lack of information you hand out in regards to your old flame, I can hardly expect to be handing out freebies now, can I?”
Drake resisted the smile, despite himself. “You are one dirty old man, you know that?”
“It’s what keeps me at the top of my game. Now, tell me a story from one of her undercover missions — any of them.”
“Well… I could waste your chance here and give you something tame,” Drake said. “Or you could wait until this is all over, and I’ll give you the gold… you know the one.”