by Rob Buckman
"That's the oddest looking rifle I've ever seen." Kat commented. "Where did it come from?"
"I don't suppose you have seen one. It's a British SA80, chambered for the 7.62 mm round. With these sights, it's good out to a thousand yards, even in bad light."
"You really love weapons, don't you?" She said, seeing the look on his face while he talked about it.
"I suppose so."
"Can you explain why?"
"I’ll try to." He thought about it for a moment. "A rifle is nothing more than a glorified rock thrower really. Ever since man came out of the caves and threw a rock at an animal or at each other he's been trying to find a better way to throw rocks."
Inserting a magazine, he jacked a round into the breech and placed the weapon on safety. "A hundred years or so ago, it was the bow and arrow. In its day, before the invention of gunpowder, it was the perfect rock thrower. We used it to hunt and kill everything, from elephants to rabbits. In its day it was so perfect you could say it was the 'H' bomb of its time. Some learned to use it better than others. At 'Agincourt', yeomen archers took on the cream of French Knighthood in a battle to the death. Those armored Knights on their grand horses must have thought it was going to be easy to destroy the remains of the English army.” In his mind’s eye, he could almost see the battle.
“After suffering several major defeats, all the English wanted to do was go home. They slowly retreated across France, sick, tired, and half-starved, the King despondent and weary after the long campaign. In the end, the King stood his ground, knowing he could retreat no further. On Friday, 25 October 1415 at mid morning the French King and his Knights mounted up and charged the English line, thinking what a good day’s sport this was going to be.” Mike laughed.
“When the battle was over, one hundred and fifty yeomen archers slaughtered thirty thousand French Knights. That's how good they were with a bow. Then came gunpowder. That made the bow almost obsolete as a weapon of war. This,” Mike said, holding up the SA80 rifle, “is the perfect rock thrower at the present. But, like the bow, it's obsolete. Soon they'll have Laser rifles with automatic targeting sights. Or smart ammo that will find a pre-designated target. The days of the sniper, or marksman as we know it will soon be over. Like the yeomen archers, they will be gone in a few years. In a hundred years, you won't be able to find a dozen in the world.
"What's so special about being a sniper, or marksman?" She asked. "It's all about killing, isn't it?"
"Yes and no." He said with a sigh. "There is something about settling a rifle stock against your shoulder and looking over the barrel at your target. Be it a man, animal, or paper target, it makes little difference. You feel the butt stock pushing in hard against your shoulder, your eye looking over the barrel, seeking the target in the sights. At first you can smell the gun oil, feel the fore grip in your hand. The sling holding tight where you wrapped tight around your arm as you settle the rifle in place.”
“You cock the weapon, sliding the bolt back, then forward, hearing, and feeling the bullet being pushed forward out of the magazine and into the breech. You lock the bolt down, and slowly become one with the target. Everything fades away until it’s just you, and the target, locked together, becoming one.”
“Your mind automatically calculates the wind drift and the drop of the bullet until you know exactly where it will strike. Then comes the moment when you 'know' when to squeeze the trigger. Your breathing slows. There is no doubt, no hesitation. Just a feeling of perfection. You hold that last breath. Your hand gently squeezes the trigger and you 'see', 'hear', 'feel' the seer release the firing pin. A split second later, the butt punches you in the shoulder and the 'rock' is on its way.
“It's like telepathy in a way. You know before you look if the bullet has hit the target or not. The yeomen archers of old were more artists than we are. When he drew back his bow and let an arrow fly, he had a much more difficult job of hitting his target. But they did, time after time. With this,” he said, tapping the rifle stock, “it's much easier, yet the craft and the pride is the same. The ability to pick up a weapon and hit any target you want without question.”
"You make it sound like a love affair."
"I suppose in some way it is. You have to love and understand the weapon you're shooting. Know its idiosyncrasies and what it will, or will not do."
"When we get out of here, will you teach me to shoot the way you do?"
He looked at her and smiled. "Yes, my love. Yes, I will."
Kat was seeing another side of Mike. His knowledge of history surprised her, and she suspected there was a greater depth to him than she'd ever imagined.
"I think it's time we were on the move. You ready to go?"
"Yes. I'm ready, as soon as I can work up the nerve to get into those wet clothes."
"I'll soon have you out of here and into a hot bath."
"I'm going to hold you to that."
"Then let’s get the hell out of here and find one."
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN:
With obvious distaste, Kat struggled into her wet clothes, noticing that Mike turned away, thanking him in her mind for the courtesy. At last, she stood and he handed her the Mini Uzi, motioning to follow. Using the helmet lights now, they working their way around the lake towards the tunnel Mike had scouted earlier. There was little to choose in the way of exits. Now it was simply taking the line of least resistance. The tunnel turned out to be smooth and clear of debris, pointing to high water erosion by overflow from the lake. Now only a trickle ran down the tunnel, but neither of them wanted to be around should the water level rise. In one or two places, they had to stoop to clear an overhang, but on the whole, it was easy going. For two hours, the tunnel twisted back and forth, but always down, sometimes dropping so steeply they had to slide down on their butts. At last, they dropped into another chamber, complete with a large lake, only this time the sound of running water drowned out anything they tried to say. The only way around the lake was to wade, and sometimes swim around the edge. They headed for the far side, where the sound was the loudest. On the way, they passed three large, and one small tunnel, ignoring each. Water poured from them in torrents, indicating they went up, not down. With that much water pouring out, it would be impossible to climb up anyway. An hour later, they reached the far side, having to wade the last few feet in shoulder high water to reach the wall. Both were disappointed by what they found. This time, instead of another tunnel, the roof came down to meet the water. Coming together in a ten-foot wide horizontal crack, water splashing against the roof as it surged through the opening. Standing this close to the opening, the current tugged at their legs, threatening to sweep them off their feet if they weren't careful.
"Now what do we do?!" Kat yelled in his ear.
"I have no idea!" Mike sized up the situation, finding nothing he liked. "Hang onto my belt and brace your feet." Puzzled, Kat braced herself and hung on as Mike ducked underwater. A minute later, he came back up, gasping for air.
"We can make it!"
"Have you gone out of your mind? I'm not going through that!"
"The water drops off on the other side and I can see daylight. It looks like it drops into a pool." He hadn't been able to see much, but he had seen bright light on the other side and felt the water dropping away from him instead of going straight. That indicated there had to be a pool at the bottom of the fall, the question was, how deep.
"Oh!" Was all she could think to say. Looking at the water surging through the gap, her heart sank. The sump had been bad enough, but she'd done it. If Mike said this was the way out, then she would have to do this as well.
"It must come out aboveground on the other side,” he said it with as much conviction as possible, hoping it registered that way.
"How on the earth are we suppose to get through without drowning?" She shouted.
"Simple. Take a deep breath and work yourself through the gap. Stay close to the wall and out of the main force of the water."
"I s
till don't like it."
"Neither do I, but it shouldn't be too bad. When you get on the other side, stand up, or at least get your head above water."
"And if I can't?"
"Then let go and drop into the pool."
"Remind me to kill you when we get out of this." Mike laughed.
"I will. Are you ready?"
"No!" Kat said, with a sigh. Her 'no' hadn't stopped him yet
“Then let’s go."
Kat followed his example, breathing in and out rapidly, purging her body of carbon dioxide, and storing oxygen. Mike looked at her and nodded, seeing her return the gesture. Without waiting, he turned to face the wall, gripping as best he could and ducked under. The first part wasn't bad. Water pressure forced his body against the rock, helping him stay in place. But the further he entered the gap, the more it tugged at him; trying to sweep him through. He felt the rock wall curving back, away from his hand and knew he was through. He still couldn't lift his head above the water due to the roof. Black spots and bright flashes danced before his eyes, as at last, his face broke water, and he gasped life-giving air. Feeling Kat grab his leg told him she was in trouble. It was only by sheer luck that he managed to grab her arm before it slipped away. For a second it was touch and go who would win, him or the water. At last, he hauled her back and lifted her up. Gagging and choking she tried to get air into her uncooperative lungs as they tried to cough out the water. Mike dragged her sideways onto a narrow ledge out of the water and laid her down and collapsing beside her. They lay there like stranded fish for some minutes before either of them could take notice of their surroundings.
"What on earth?" It wasn't open air as expected, but a large, flood lit cavern.
"Where are we?" Kat asked weakly.
"Beats the shit out of me." Beside them, the water spewed out of the crack. Spilling in to the pool with a thundering roar. One look, and Mike thanked Lady Luck, they hadn't plunged down into it. The water flowed out of the pool down a deep rock channel before plunged back underground. This time straight down, as the whirlpool forming at the entrance attested.
"What are those pipes for Mike?" He took a second look, wondering himself. From three different directions, large PVC pipes ran across the floor of the cavern from connecting tunnels. At the edge of the pool, they spewed dark colored liquid into the rushing water.
"I've got a funny feeling about this." Mike muttered.
"About what?" Dragging the sodden bag towards him, he unzipped it and pulled out the L80 and assembled it.
"I got a feeling we're going to need these soon,” he said, handing Kat her Mini Uzi." Kat watched as he quickly checked his weapon in turn, loading a fresh magazine into the well.
"Here, put this on." He said handing her an ammo belt with double pouches. Pulling banana shaped stick magazines out of the bag, he placed four in each pouch, giving her a total of sixteen.
"That should be enough."
"I hope so." She said. "Unless you're planning on starting world war three."
"You can never tell what you’re going to run into, it's better to prepare for the worse." After filling his own belt, they made their way down off the ledge. Checking the pool and the mysterious plastic pipes.
"Christ! That stuff stinks. What is it?" Kat yelled in his ear. Mike took a sniff of the liquid spewing from the pipes. One by one, all the bits of the jigsaw puzzle fell into place.
"Son of a bitch, I think I know why 'Rolass' wanted to get my land so bad."
"Your land, Why?"
"He's processing drug in here, large quantities of drug unless I miss my guess."
"Drugs!" She yelled. "Here?"
"Save it for later, we've got company. Quick, follow me." Over the noise of the water, he could hear the sound of an engine coming their way.
Mike took off down the tunnel, staying close to the wall in case they met someone coming the other way as well. Seeing a low side tunnel, he dropped to his knees and crawled in, closely followed by Kat. Feeling his way forward Mike felt the wall turning away, breathing a sigh of relief as he switched his flashlight on. The tunnel carried on, getting lower and tighter as they progressed, here and there dropping a few feet, or widening. At last, it broadened out to a place where they could stand up.
"Out of one fire and into another." Was Mike's only comment.
"Well it's better than getting shot at." Was Kat's only comment.
She flopped down on the floor and closed her eyes, wanting nothing more than to sleep, passed even caring about a hot bath any more. Mike dropped his pack and wandered down the tunnel to explore, coming unexpectedly upon a narrow crack in the wall, light pouring through it. Cautiously, he approached the opening and looked through.
"Well I'll be... Kat! Kat! Come and take a look." Hearing his soft call Kat slowly climbed to her feet.
"What now! Another wonderful experience to enrich my life?"
"Not quite, take a look through there." He said pointing. Kat just stared, shaking her head.
"Oh my lord!"
"You can say that again." Mike took half a 'Blackroot' cigar out of a tin and lit up, dropping to the floor with his back to the wall.
Spread out in the cavern below then was a beehive of activity, with dozens of men and pieces of equipment building glass walled enclosures. Some were already completed with men setting up equipment inside.
"It's the drug factory isn't it?"
"Yes." He said, nodding his head.
"They could produce the stuff by the ton down there."
"That's the general idea."
"But how do they get the raw product into the country?"
"I suspect you'll find the answer to that in those tanker trucks over there." Kat just shook her head in disbelief, the enormity of it overwhelming her.
"Take a look at the far end." She did, but for a moment was unable to see what he was talking about, then she did. Roland Hawkins stood talking to three men."
"We've got to stop him Mike, stop this, or destroy it." Mike laughed, a deep chuckle, rising from within his chest.
"And how, pray tell, dear lady, are we going to do that? Me and what army?"
"I don't know!" She snapped; "You're the military expert around here. Think of something!"
"Yes sir, right away sir,” he gave her a tired smile, wondering what in hell, he was going to do.
"It all makes sense now,” he said, blowing a smoke ring. "It's simple and beautiful."
"What is?" she demanded."
"Why old Rolass wanted the whole bloody mountain, including my land." He chuckled to himself.
"You'd better explain the joke, because that one went right over my head." She sounded tired, and he couldn't blame her. He wasn't feeling very energetic himself.
"It's the water coming from inside the mountain. It's from the hot springs under my house, that’s why."
"I don't get it?" Kat said. It didn't make sense to her.
"Hot spring Kat. Sulfur, minerals, all sorts of other chemicals."
"So?" She said. Mike had to laugh. A layman wouldn't get it, not even suspect it, and therein lay the beauty of the scheme.
"In most major cities the police monitor the sewer system to detect drug factories. They trace them back up the system to the source by following the chemical trace." He said, puffing contentedly on his cigar.
"Drug manufacturing makes a lot of by-products that have to be dumped during the process. Here, all the waste products are pumped into that pool, where they mix with the natural pollution already there. By the time the water comes back to the surface, it is so well mixed and distributed in hundreds of millions of gallons of water that it would be almost undetectable and impossible to trace back to its source. Plus, with a year round hunting, fishing and ski play ground for the rich and infamous it would be off limits to everyone, including the state and local police." Kat looked at him in amazement, her jaw slowly dropping.
"You can't be serious?"
"The hell I'm not. You want to lay odd on
it?"
"But! But! But a man like Roland Hawkins..." Her voice trailed off.
"That’s right, a man like Rolass, your playmate."
"But he's a millionaire?" She said. Shaking her head.
"Lady, he can make more in one week with this setup than he could in ten years of legitimate business, plus it's tax free, and he has a place to launder it."
"So that why he didn't want you or me around to cause trouble, or fight him over the ownership of the land."
"You've got it Lady." He said with a smile. "He wanted complete control of the source of the water. I'm also betting he knows about these tunnels. He wouldn't want strangers wandering around down here. They might stumble on his secret."
"Of all the slimy bastard,” she snapped. "He was willing to kill you and sell me as a sex slave to get what he wanted."
"You still have any reservation about me blowing him away."
"No!" She snapped back. "No I don't, not now." Kat gave him an intense look, and they nodded to each other in unspoken agreement. Mike knew that if he got the opportunity to blow Hawkins away and did it, Kat Ballard would never hold it against him.
After finishing his cigar, he rested for a few more minutes, then got up and explored further down the passageway, thinking as he went. Some three hundred yards farther on the tunnel widened into a definite main bore. There were pick marks, and drilling holes on the walls. Evidence of mining sometime in the past. Walking down the tunnel, Mike saw daylight coming from an opening in the roof and standing under it could see sunlight about a hundred feet above his head. His hopes soared. If they had bothered to cut an airshaft to the surface, it meant this tunnel had to come out into the open somewhere nearby. He moved rapidly up the tunnel, grinning in expectation. It vanished the moment he saw the rock pile.
Knowing that either someone had blown it down, or it had collapsed over the years. Either way this escape exit was blocked, so that left the airshaft.
"I've found a way out,” he said, coming back. "The only trouble is I can't figure out a way to get to it yet."
