“‘Over target,’” Quinn repeated. He tried to imagine what it would be like to have the warheads rain down over the United States. “We’d better find that damn key.”
Che Lu stared at the notations in Nabinger’s notebook until they became blurry and she had to close her eyes and rest. She’d been poring over them, lacking anything else to do.
Leaning back against the rock wall, she felt a moment’s despair. All the exits were destroyed, the food and water the mercenaries had carried in wouldn’t last forever, and there seemed no resolution in sight to the current situation.
Elek was systematically going through the containers in the large cavern and had made it clear he did not want the humans looking over his shoulders as he did so. Lo Fa had made the wry observation that he hoped the alien/human hybrid found some food soon in one of the containers.
Other than passing such remarks, Lo Fa spent most of his time sleeping. Storing up energy, he called it. It was a sign of the depression she felt that Che Lu didn’t even poke fun at her old friend for that. When he wasn’t sleeping, the old man wandered the tunnels of the complex they had access to, avoiding going down the central tunnel that led to the lowest level and was guarded by the holographic image of an Airlia and the deadly beam. As long as she had known him, the one trait of Lo Fa’s she’d admired was his desire to see new places, to travel to the edges of the maps he had, to…
Che Lu’s eyes flashed open. She thumbed through the leather-bound notebook until she found a certain page. Nabinger had written a series of runes down one side of the page along with some numbers next to them. The top rune-number set had the word “Earth” written next to it.
She’d assumed he was deciphering some mathematical formula and considered the page not particularly important. It was apparent he’d been working on it just before coming to China and entering the tomb. She stared at the numbers, comparing what he had translated to the runes. And saw where he had been wrong. Not because he didn’t understand the runes, but because he didn’t understand the Airlia. She remembered the image that appeared in the central corridor… the hands with six fingers instead of five.
The human number system was based on multiples of ten. It made sense that the Airlia system might be based on multiples of twelve. Which meant the numbers Nabinger had been trying to decipher would make no sense to him without that essential piece of information.
Che Lu began recalculating.
The bouncer slowly circled. “That is Stantsiya Chyort,” Yakov said pointing. “Or was Stantsiya Chyort,” Yakov corrected as they could see more clearly.
They were at the northernmost end of Novaya Zemlya, which was an island seven hundred miles long that separated the Barents from the Kara Sea. The base was located in a narrow strip of level land between a glacier on one side and mountains on the other two. The ocean completed the encirclement and isolation.
“Now we know why you lost radio contact,” Turcotte said. There was no mistaking the demolished walls and roofs of the surface buildings next to the runway.
“We know why,” Yakov agreed, “but we still don’t know for sure who is the cause of this.”
“We can make a damn good guess,” Turcotte said as the plane went into the glide path to land.
“You suspect The Ones Who Wait?”
“Or The Mission,” Turcotte said. “We can’t forget them.”
“No, we cannot,” Yakov agreed. “They might well have done this in retaliation for our shooting down the satellite that was brewing their Black Death. Or The Ones Who Wait to prevent us from getting to the sphere that controls the talon.” Yakov nodded at the compound. “Fortunately, most of the facility is underground, like your Cube. It might have escaped the wrath of whoever attacked. There was a failsafe device in case of attack. The only way into the underground base would be destroyed.”
“Burying the men there alive?” Turcotte asked as the bouncer touched down on the concrete runway.
“Supposedly.”
Turcotte remembered the dead scientists at the Terra-Lei compound in Africa… killed when the compound was breached by the UNAOC forces. Everything related to the Airlia seemed to bring death.
“So we can’t get to it?”
“Not without major earthmoving equipment,” Yakov said.
“Then this trip is a waste,” Turcotte said.
“Do not count your chickens before the eggs break,” Yakov said. “I know of a secondary entrance to the lower level that only a few of us were briefed on. It was the emergency way out if the main elevator destruct was fired.”
Turcotte nodded. “Have you been here before?”
“Once, but it was a quick visit. My boss did not want me to be seen often at Stantsiya Chyort, because he felt it would compromise my effectiveness in the field. He was worried like you were at Area 51… eyes and ears everywhere.”
Turcotte opened a locker and pulled out two MP-5 submachine guns. He tossed one to Yakov, along with a couple of spare magazines.
“Excuse me, Major?” Katyenka held up her empty hands.
“My apologies,” Turcotte said. He drew another MP-5 out and gave it to her. Then he climbed up and opened the top hatch. Once on the ground, Yakov led the way. Turcotte caught glimpses of frozen bodies among the ruins.
“Here.” Yakov walked up to the concrete bunker. The steel doors had been blown asunder, their twisted remains on either side of a dark opening, like a mouth waiting for its next feast.
Yakov pulled a powerful flashlight out of his pack and shined it in. “Come on.”
Turcotte followed, Katyenka right behind him. They went down a corridor until they came to another set of steel doors. Yakov pulled open a panel next to them. He threw a switch, and the doors opened with a hum. A large freight elevator was inside.
“Emergency power is still functioning,” Yakov said.
“What kind of emergency power?” Turcotte asked.
Yakov’s teeth showed. “Nuclear, of course. It is not like Novaya Zemlaya could get any ‘dirtier’ from one more bit of radioactivity.”
“Who is taking care of the reactor if everyone is dead?”
Yakov was in the elevator, looking around. “It is automated. Can run for months without a human looking at it.”
“Right.” Turcotte’s tone indicated what he thought of that.
Yakov pulled a floor plate up and shined his light down. “The failsafe seems to have failed. Or was made to fail. The shaft is clear.”
“One piece of luck,” Turcotte said.
“We will not need to use the secondary entrance… it would require many stairs.” He gestured for them to enter the elevator. After Turcotte and Katyenka got on board, Yakov closed the doors and the elevator descended.
“How deep?” Turcotte asked after a minute.
“A half mile.”
After descending for five minutes the elevator halted with a slight bump. Yakov gently pushed Katyenka to the rear as he put his weapon at the ready. “This is no time for male chauvinism,” Katyenka said.
“It is not chauvinism,” Yakov said. “Even with you in front of me, I would still be a target. At least with you behind there is only one target.”
Katyenka pushed her way next to Turcotte and Yakov, her MP-5 tight against her shoulder, finger on the trigger.
Yakov shrugged and pushed the button.
The doors slid open.
The bodies were strewn about, fallen where they had been caught by whatever had killed them.
“Is it safe?” Turcotte asked.
“Too late for that.” Yakov strode into a large central chamber. He knelt down next to the closest body and turned it faceup. “I would say some sort of nerve gas. If it was still active, we’d be dead. It’s dissipated.”