“There is no mercy to be found this day. Will you say a prayer for me brother?”
Inias nods and then embraces the old man, “And you do the same for me, for I may be joining you in the afterlife.” He stands and then pounds on the metal door.
Mathias looks at him with a smile on his face, his tone is hopeful, “With the forefather's return comes the wrath of Persephone; her vengeance. Save yourself brother, or be consumed by the wrath of a god.”
The door opens. Inias quickly takes his leave.
He walks briskly towards the exit, slowing his pace at the sight of approaching figures. As he gets into better lighting, he sees all the temple youths from Mathias’ monastery, a handful of the family, and armed soldiers behind them. One figure catches his gaze; it is Commander Andros.
He is a clean-cut, medium built, arrogant man, with the features of an aristocrat, and that red cape; oh, how he loves to wear that red cape. He smiles wickedly at Inias.
Andros waits until they pass the Archon by several paces then asks a question, “Where are you going Inias? Come, join us,” he orders.
Inias turns around to face Andros; the commander has his hand out as if gesturing peace, smiling that smug and evil smile. There is no escaping this morning’s events.
-OFFICE OF ARCHON INIAS-
The office is quiet, with Alexius and Deidra being the only occupants. They sit by a large window contemplating their fates. Two squads run past them on the outside, singing their cadence and providing a welcomed distraction for the two Captains. As the squads disappear, so too does their momentary escape into silence.
“Andros can’t blame us for what happened,” Deidra says. She looks at Alexius, he is angry. “Do you think he will…”
“He’ll have you executed, me, he’ll want it to hurt, a lot.”
On any other day, Deidra would consider his words to be a mere exaggeration. She knew of Andros’ reputation and the hatred for his brother-in-law.
“Who was that in the temple, that woman?” she asks.
“I don’t know, Nomad I suppose. If they had just a hundred like her, they could take out this entire base.”
The doors burst open startling the soldiers. Inias enters in a fury with a stern look on his face. The pair quickly stands in military fashion, silent and looking straight ahead. Inias looks at them; his face is red and his breathing steady and controlled, like a bull ready to attack.
“You two, come here!” Inias orders.
Without hesitation, the soldiers march to the Archon. They are still silent, waiting to be allowed to speak. They have been in this position before, but due to innocent mischief and misbehavior. Now the eyes of Atlantis were on them, and that spotlight burned hot.
Inias screams, “By the gods, you have managed to destroy me. You had one thing to do, one simple task.” Alexius attempts to say something; Inias stops him “Did I say you can speak? And you, I expected him to fuck this up, not you, not Deidra. Go on, speak.”
“Your holiness,” Alexius begins, “plans were in play contrary to your expectations, to your orders.”
“I know,” Inias declares, a lot calmer now.
“You knew?” Deidra asks, sounding slightly accusative.
Inias tosses a thin brass tube on the floor. It lands next to Alexius’ boot, but he dares not look down at it.
“Encoded message to be delivered via courier, yesterday. Arrived just now,” he explains.
He gets closer to the soldiers as if to whisper. He looks them in the eyes, knowing full well that despite him being shorter, he is successfully intimidating them. His words will carry much weight now.
“You have one chance at redemption, one chance. We have intelligence on the whereabouts of the thieves.”
“What about father Mathias?” Alexius asks.
There is a hint of anger in Inias’ response, “He’s dead, and soon I will be if you don’t bring me that chest! Just so we’re clear, if I am to die, you will suffer a fate much worse.”
“Where do we start Archon?” Deidra asks with her head lowered.
Inias calms down some. He pushes past them to grab the monitor on his desk. He swings it around and then touches the screen. A map appears with the topography of a mountainous forest area.
“Demon rock. They are somewhere in that region…” Inias points on the screen. “There were transmissions sent to these coordinates.” He taps the monitor revealing a more descriptive screen.
“Are you certain it’s Demon Rock? That’s a massive area to cover,” Deidra protests.
Inias gets in Deidra’s face, “No, but you better be sure. Take an entire regiment, with air support.” He looks at Alexius, “Burn the bloody forest down if you have to.”
“What if they left by air?” Alexius asks.
“Unlikely…the airspace is monitored, and it’s been quiet. Go now, get ready. Oh, one more thing, Andros’ troops will be joining the hunt. Ensure they don’t find the chest before we do. Now get out.”
The soldiers bow to the Archon then make a hasty retreat. As the door closes behind them, Alexius spots Commander Andros heading his way.
The wretch will surely have something to say. I’m in hot water as it is…no need to drown in it, Alexius cautions himself. Deidra looks at him then pats his shoulder. Not wanting to witness a potential brawl, she quickly leaves.
Andros has an evil smirk on his lips as he walks smugly towards his brother-in-law. He stops three feet in front of Alexius and looks up into his eyes; he is ecstatic at the thought of being able to “stomp” on this creature once more.
“Brother,” Andros greets Alexius.
“Commander,” Alexius responds.
Alexius’ formal tone throws Andros off his plan. An informal response would have opened the door to a less appetizing dialogue; by addressing his superior with an honorific that door closed, keeping conversation to the business at hand. He knew Andros was trying to force him to lose his temper.
“I will lead the air forces in this recovery. Get yourself ready, we leave in one hour,” Andros says in a formal tone.
“By your command.” Alexius remains in a respectful pose, watching Andros stare him up and down. A moment passes before the Commander steps towards Inias’ door.
“Oh Captain,” Andros says with a hint of pleasure in his voice, “one more thing, you will join the ground force at the perimeter.”
Alexius could sense the amusement the commander is getting from this. Keeping him away from the leading group would ensure Andros claims all the glory. He waits for a moment, then leaves. His mind is racing as he traverses the long corridor ahead of him
-OFFICERS QUARTERS-
The private building is for the officers only; no Cadets allowed. The interior is uniquely designed for the Foreign Legion’s tastes. Trophies, awards, expensive ornaments, and of course a well-stocked bar. Several of the garrison soldiers are hosting Commander Andros’ troops, but only a handful are in the building patiently waiting for their orders.
Alexius sees the air wing Captain he is looking for, Parish. He is a well-groomed man in his late twenties, dressed in a flight uniform. He is from the prosperous city of Darnen, in the African region of the Empire. A proud individual, he is not easily swayed by questionable affairs. He is very competitive, and this was a weakness to be exploited at the moment.
“Parish!” Alexius calls out. “Didn’t expect to find you here.” He meets him at the bar.
“And where else would I be? We are still on schedule to clean up your mess.”
Alexius smiles, clutching a leather-bound folder, making it obvious that he was protecting it. The corner of a page is sticking out, with the beginnings of a number sequence visible.
“What do you have there? Looks like coordinates,” Parish says.
“This? Oh, it’s just something Inias gave me. So, you’re taking Andros up I hear.”
“I am. His pilot deferred to me because I am that good. Maybe he will be impressed with my flying and
transfer me to his legion.”
“The only thing to impress that man is results. Too bad I will find the prize before you.”
Parish looks at him then grunts, “In your dreams.”
“Care to make a wager?” Alexius asks with a serious look.
“100 ducats say I beat you to the prize.”
“You know I don’t have 100 ducats; make it twenty.” Alexius places the folder on the counter and then sticks his hand out.
“Confidence escapes you, my friend…an easy win,” Parish points out.
Alexius smiles, “Did I say twenty? Alright then, I am so certain I shall win, I am willing to bet, 200 ducats.”
Parish looks at Alexius, skeptical about what just transpired; is he running a scam? Or does he have some information that will ensure success? “Done,” he announces and shakes Alexius’ hand. “Since I’ll be taking your money, order whatever you want, I’m buying.”
With a smile on his face, Alexius walks further down the counter to meet the bartender. The folder sits undisturbed on the table.
Chapter 06: Treasure at Demon Rock
The afternoon sky is alive with brilliant colors; similar colors graced the skies less than twenty-four hours ago above the local monastery where a violent theft occurred. This act is not going unpunished, for the offense was against the mighty Empire of Atlantis. Now, high in the sky, five armored transports scour the forests for the villains.
Four of the crafts are local, each holding a maximum of twenty-three soldiers. The fifth craft is the largest and carries fifty heavily armed and dangerous Foreign Legionaries. The formation moves together like a synchronized swarm of bees, moving slow and cautious above the treetops.
Further ahead by about five miles is the scout-ship, also serving as the lead vessel. Aboard Commander Andros calmly observes his pilot work the controls. The cabin is not cramped, but neither is it spacious. The commander sits midway at the back, raised higher than the two pilots up front. Captain Parish expertly navigates through the mountainous area, trying to impress Andros.
The treetops give way to a dangerous cavern below, which then opens up into a valley. Parish plunges his craft into a steep dive and then levels off close to the surface. A deserted camp catches his attention. He looks back at Andros who gives him a nod. With determination on his face and the flick of a switch, the ship is reconfigured into combat mode. It pulls up then darts high into the air, speeding over the mountain.
There is a lake about five miles ahead. Nothing is visible on the banks from this high up, just a thick rolling fog. Instruments begin to chirp signaling activity below. The Co-Pilot Signals Parish, who then looks at Andros; there is a smile on the Commander’s face, one of victory.
Three tents are spread over the bank with sure signs of occupation. Two vehicles are parked and armed with long-range guns. The ship pulls up sharply ascending into the clouds. It levels off inverted in the opposite heading, then rolls level. It is higher than the approaching ships now, looking at the attack formation as they slowly advance.
-GORGE NEAR DEMON ROCK-
The area is becoming damp from a drizzle of rain; the drops are tapping rhythmically on the thick tree cover. A canopy of branches blocks the retreating sunlight, which is slowly being covered with rain clouds. There is just enough sunlight for three approaching figures to see their way through the forest; onward they hustle sloshing through the mud. They carefully climb an incline towards a large mossy log sitting securely on a high hill.
The drizzle quickly turns into a rapid downpour. Large branches laden with leaves provide shade for the three soldiers, well, two Captains and one Cadet. Alexius, Deidra, and Bain, all soaked, crawl next to the mossy log. They drop their heavy rifle butts into the mud, clutching the weapons as if expecting trouble. Deidra retrieves a pair of binoculars from her satchel. She passes it to Bain. He looks at her with a complaint on his face.
“You’re the lookout, Cadet,” Deidra reminds him.
“Be quiet,” Alexius cautions. “How many are down there?” he asks Deidra.
Deidra aggressively grabs the binoculars. She peeks out at a gorge in a small area; the depression is about one-tenth of a mile down, and a quarter mile away. Three tents are visible, with movement inside. Flood lamps begin to light the area, revealing mounted weaponry.
“Seven. Not much cover, they will see us coming. That is if we get past those perimeter guns mounted on the trees, see there.”
Alexius turns his back in frustration. He sighs and tries to figure out a plan. The forest ahead of him is darkening, severely restricting their field of view. He frowns at a pair of eyes glowing in the branches above. Several yards going up an incline in front of him stands large redwood trees; he has an idea. He dips into his satchel and then begins uncoiling a thin, almost invisible line.
Deidra looks at him, “This is a bad idea. Where is the air support?” she asks. Alexius shrugs his shoulders.
“Shall I call it in?” Bain asks enthusiastically. Alexius quickly shakes his head and tosses the thin line to him.
“Secure it to both those,” he orders, pointing to the redwood trees several yards away.
“I am a soldier, not a slave,” Bain protests.
“Boy get over there now!” Alexius aggressively points to the trees. Bain makes his way clumsily through the thick flora, grumbling.
Alexius looks back at Deidra, “The answer to your questions is…Parish has his coordinates; we have ours.” Deidra shakes her head noticeably irate.
“I hope you know what you’re doing…I don’t.”
“We’re flushing out roaches. So…did you hear Inias say, ‘fuck’?”
Deidra couldn’t help but break down with a chuckle at the memory, “It almost made all this shit worth it.”
“So…still got my back?” Alexius asks.
The question frustrates Deidra more than angers her. Here they are, in a bad position as it were, but clear and innocent of any wrongdoing; and Alexius still wants to steal the treasure.
“Unbelievable,” she fumes. “You expect the three of us to take on…her?” The memory of Liviana brings some fear to the fearless Captain. She touches the sore portion of her chest.
“She may not even be down there. Besides, that’s why we brought these,” Alexius clarifies while caressing the heavy rifle.
Bain crawls by them, headed for the other tree. He trips and falls, making a commotion beneath the thick leaves. He gains his footing then jumps up with a smile on his face. He quickly runs off to another tree.
“Why…the fuck…did you bring him?” Alexius asks with much annoyance in his tone.
“To tell the Archon how we died: stealing his treasure,” Deidra responds sarcastically.
“It’s not a heist. These nomads are killers. You do remember the bodies they dropped at the monastery?” he asks rhetorically. “Besides, a little compensation for our troubles is expected. We’re not taking much, just a little. Inias will have his prize.”
“Then let’s get on with it,” Deidra concedes, knowing fully well that her complaints will fall on deaf ears. Bain crawls back to the log and takes up his position.
“Yes, Captain Deidra. Bain, be careful; don’t fall,” Alexius says with sarcasm.
Bain watches Deidra playfully slap Alexius behind his head. The path down is treacherous, and it will be a while before they get to the camp below. He checks his communications device, getting ready for what comes.
-LAKE AREA-
The Foreign Legion’s heavy transport sits in a clearing some distance away from the lake waters. Bright lights from the craft shine on the soldiers standing watch. Commander Andros’ scout ship is closer to the banks, pointed towards the water.
Outside the tents are several people on their knees with their hands on their heads. Soldiers point their weapons at them, wishing for a reason to fire. Andros walks in front of the men, looking at them stare back at him menacingly. One of the rough mountain-folk gives him a dirty look; this gives h
im cause to stop at the man known as Ponchus. Parish walks up to Andros, looks at Ponchus then nods to his commander.
Andros stands over the kneeling man, “Where are the stolen items?” A soldier pulls Ponchus up to face Andros.
“Eat shit Atlantean,” the mountain-man exclaims.
Andros nods to a soldier, who happily drops his knee on the subdued man’s face. As he falls, Ponchus discreetly pulls a small device from his inside pocket. He smiles with blood dripping from his mouth. Parish notices the inconspicuous box in his hand.
Ponchus looks at the soldiers, “Live free, die free,” he says smiling, then presses a switch.
Parish dives on Andros, knowing fully well what is about to happen. The mountain folks vehicles erupt in explosions, followed by the tents. The soldiers are on alert looking for attackers; there are none.
Without hesitation, Andros grabs Parish’s sidearm as they both stand. He points the weapon at Ponchus then discharges a fatal shot.
“Search everything,” the commander orders.
-LIVIANA’S CAMP-
The rain has stopped as suddenly as it started, leaving the ground muddy. Liviana steps out from a tent then looks around expecting trouble. She lights a cigarette, exhaling as if it was the only one left. A rugged truck approaching distracts her.
Mica stops next to her in the stolen vehicle, splashing mud all over her expensive boots. He smiles that cocky smile of his, waiting for a witty insult. Liviana looks at him while blowing smoke in his face.
Mica coughs, “Those things will kill you.” Still nothing. “Liv, time to go.”
“I have a funny feeling,” she explains.
“We can make the temple by sunrise…but we have to go. Load the chest.”
“No,” Liviana says calmly. “We can’t take it with us, too risky. I have what we need; it goes to my father. Sentry…” An armed man walks up from behind a tent. “Break camp. You know what to do.” The man acknowledges. She jumps in the truck, and they speed off.
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