The Rock

by Robert Doherty

  "Stop screaming, General. That won't save your other eye." Tuskin reached down and picked up the eyeball, holding it directly in front of its partner. "You have five seconds or you never see again." Blood oozed from the hole in the general's skull. "I don't know who he was." The words spilled out like the vomit that had preceded them.

  "You lie," Tuskin replied. He dropped the eyeball and stomped his boot on it, the noise causing Hawkins to flinch.

  "No! I don't know. We never met face-to-face. There was a dead drop. He contacted me there and he left the gold there. After I had the gold, I put the two bombs in place for pickup."

  "Gold? He paid for both in gold?"

  "Yes!"

  "The same person bought both?

  "Yes!"

  "An African?"

  There was a brief pause, and Tuskin moved the knife closer to the general's eye. "I don't know!" The general shook his head. "He wasn't African."

  "But the Africans exploded one of the bombs under Vredefort Dome," Tuskin said. "Was this man a front for them?"

  "I don't know."

  "You are wasting my time, old man. What do you know?"

  "The Africans may have gotten one of the bombs-maybe both. But the man I sold them to-he was Russian. And he was military too."

  Tuskin exchanged a look with Hawkins. "How do you know that?"

  "He knew too much. He played me well. He knew exactly what he wanted and he knew that I would do it. It is someone who knew me but who never let me know who he was."

  Tuskin frowned, lowering the knife slightly. "How did he do that?"

  The general had his chance. Pulling out of Hawkins's relaxed grip, he impaled his throat on the knife. Tuskin cursed in Russian as he tried to stop the flow of arterial blood.

  "He's gone," Hawkins said, grabbing the other man. Reluctantly, Tuskin pulled his hands away as the general's life ebbed out onto the floor.

  "We have nothing," Tuskin said bitterly.

  "We have it that the buyer was a Russian. And that he was military. That's a start," Hawkins said.

  Tuskin stood. "What now?"

  "We go to South Africa," Hawkins said.

  "South Africa?" Tuskin asked.

  "We talk to the ones who bought the Vredefort bomb from the Russian. Maybe they know who he is."

  "You think this Russian still has the other bomb?"

  "Yes."

  "Do you know where these Africans are who bought the bomb?"

  "Yes. I did some checking before I came through. The South African police have picked them up. A man and a woman. The man's name is Nabaktu. He was part of a radical splinter group of the Xantha party. He was assisted by a woman named Lona. They sent one of their members into the mine on a suicide mission with the bomb."

  "There was no intelligence on that from my people," Tuskin commented.

  "The South African authorities are keeping it quiet. They want to interrogate and then terminate them. They certainly don't want to have a trial. They have enough bad publicity as it is. The CIA picked up this info from a source they have in-country."

  Tuskin could understand that reasoning. "You know where they are being held?"

  "Brandvlei. "

  Tuskin whistled. "That's the home of their Para Commandos!"

  "Yep," Hawkins commented as he rolled the general's body out the ramp door.

  "They won't be as easy to take down as these slobs were." Tuskin led the way to the pilot's compartment.

  "No, they won't," Hawkins agreed as he leaned over the control panel and worked with the controls.

  ANSWERS

  The Other Side

  "What’s going on?" Fran asked, her eyes mesmerized by the massive image of Ayers Rock in front of her.

  Pencak grabbed her arm. "There's not much time. We need to go back down." She pressed the horizontal button and the armor plating resealed around the glass capsule. She punched the down button and they began their descent. The elevator came to a halt at a different level from the one they had gotten on at.

  Fran tried to clear her head. "What about Debra?"

  "Debra will find out on her own," Pencak replied succinctly, "if she hasn't already."

  "And Don?"

  "We're going to him now," Pencak impatiently answered. "There's not the time to explain things twice."

  She nudged Fran forward and they stepped into the corridor. A door at the end slid open into a brightly lit chamber with white walls. Don Batson was seated on a bench and leapt to his feet as the two appeared. "I wondered when I would see you again," he said as he stepped forward to Fran. He turned his gaze to Pencak. "So what now? Have you let her in on your secret?"

  "I saw Ayers Rock, Don," Fran said, the shock evident in her voice. "It's above us. But it's not the same."

  Don shook his head. "I know. The only mistake I made was telling the wrong person that I knew," he said, again staring hard at Pencak. "You're one of them, aren't you?"

  Pencak nodded impatiently, as if that was not a serious matter. "I apologize for locking you up, but we couldn't allow you to tell the others. We didn't take into account your background when we brought you through."

  "Tell the others what?" Whatever patience Fran had had was long gone now.

  Don was still staring at Pencak. "It shouldn't surprise you that a geologist would recognize his own planet. When I saw the wall of the cavern below us, I knew exactly where we were-after we'd been cutting through the same sandstone feldspar for the past several days."

  Fran blinked. "But I don't understand. How can we be back at the Rock? Where are all the people that we left? And the sky-it was…" She paused and then plaintively asked, "Where are we?"

  Pencak sighed. "Not where, my dear. When is the key question." Pencak grabbed her shoulder. "There isn't time right now to answer all your questions. Things are happening and we're losing control-not that we had that much to start with."

  The old woman suddenly staggered and Fran and Don watched in amazement as she seemed to fade slightly and then come back into focus. Pencak gripped her cane fiercely and regained her balance. "We have to get you two back to the right time while we still can."

  "But I don't-"

  "Trust me." Pencak cut off Don's question. "I'll explain all shortly."

  A door on the side of the room slid open and three robed figures strode in. As they stepped forward, they pulled their hoods down, revealing faces as disfigured as Pencak's. The first one had no eyes at all; a thin metal plate was wrapped around his forehead with wires leading out of it directly into the back of the skull. The second's head was completely smooth-no ears or nose protruding. The eyes were recessed farther than normal and glinted with a strange color Fran had never seen before. The third held his-her? — head at a cocked angle, a twisted cord of distended muscle bulging out on the right side and disappearing into the robe.

  The little glimpse that Fran had of their hands showed deformities such as missing fingers and melted skin. The lead figure's scarred face twisted in a sad smile as he wrapped his arms around Pencak. "Good-bye for the second and final time, Lois."

  Fran watched as they hugged the old woman, paying no attention to either Don or herself. Done with their parting words, the three stepped back and another door opened to the side. Inside it gleamed the black Wall of a portal.

  "Let's go," Pencak insisted, grabbing Fran by the arm again. As she stepped forward with Don toward the shimmering black, Fran was surprised to see tears flowing out of the old woman's one good eye.

  SOUTH AFRICA

  Brandvlei, South Africa

  23 DECEMBER 1995, 1200 LOCAL

  23 DECEMBER 1995, 1000 ZULU

  "Do you have a plan?" Tuskin asked as the plains of southwest Africa flitted below.

  "We land right on top of where the prisoners are being held and grab them."

  "Great detail," Tuskin muttered as a walled compound appeared in the distance ahead, rapidly growing closer. "Did you spend a lot of time coming up with that?"

  "As
much as you did with your plan back at the dacha," Hawkins replied.

  The Russian grabbed his plasma projector as the skimmer lifted slightly and cleared the outer wall. Surprised guards in desert camouflage fired a few scattered shots at the strange vehicle as it settled into a small parade field in front of the garrison headquarters.

  Hawkins led the way out the door and down the ramp. "The building on the left," he called out to Tuskin. Immediately he felt the slam of bullets into his chest as a South African paratrooper fired his R4 assault rifle at the two strange figures. Hawkins cleared the way to the prison using the projector, sweeping away the opposition with blasts of energy. He felt detached from emotion as the soldiers died under his merciless barrage.

  The door melted under Tuskin's fire and they made their way to the basement cells where the intelligence Hawkins had stolen out of Lamb's files indicated that Lona and Nabaktu were being held. The last guard disposed of, Hawkins blew off the lock and entered the cell. The two prisoners were gaunt and barely conscious, lying on bunks against the wall of a small, dingy room.

  Hawkins threw the woman over his shoulder while Tuskin gathered in the man. Staggering under their loads, they made their way back up the stairs and onto the parade field. The opposition was still disorganized as they headed toward the skimmer. A machine gun suddenly roared out of a window in the headquarters building and tore a row of puckered dirt toward Tuskin, the rounds rising and hitting the Russian on his left side, knocking him over onto the ground. He rolled to his feet and reached down to pick up Nabaktu and then halted. The African's head was a mass of blood and brain where one of the rounds had torn through it. Tuskin turned and fired in short arcs at the large building, blowing walls in, silencing the machine gun as Hawkins made it into the skimmer. The Russian turned and followed, the ramp sliding in and the door shutting.

  The ping of rounds off the side sounded dimly within as Tuskin ran to the cockpit and activated the controls, getting the aircraft out of the compound and a safe distance away. By the time he was done and had rejoined Hawkins in the cargo bay, the American had the young black girl conscious and was examining her wounds.

  "How is she?"

  Hawkins pointed out the various injuries as he continued to work. "They used electricity on her nipples and vagina. The soles of her feet have been beaten. Three broken fingers on the right hand. I think she has a couple of cracked ribs. I don't think the lung was punctured. Some burn marks."

  Tuskin nodded-the usual crude methods used by police states to gain information or simply to punish with the goal of supporting a regime of fear.

  "I thought new people were in power," he commented.

  "New people, same old shit," Hawkins replied. "Intertribal fighting is just as fierce as interracial."

  "Who are you?" The words from Lona's swollen lips were barely audible. Her eyes were straining, trying to make sense of what she could see. "Where is Nabaktu?"

  Tuskin was regarding her impassively, his hand already straying to the knife at his belt. "I don't think you'll need that," Hawkins said quietly. "I think she's already broken." He looked at her. "We need to know about the bomb."

  "The bomb," Lona repeated numbly. "I told you about the bomb. I told you it was the only one. There are no more."

  "There is one more," Hawkins said.

  "No more," Lona repeated. "We only had the one."

  "I know you only bought one. But the man you bought it from acquired two using your gold. We need to know who he is."

  "I told you-he was a Russian."

  "Tell us everything about him. Did you actually see him?"

  Lona slowly nodded. "We met him once. In Angola. When we paid. He promised us the bomb later and he delivered. I did not want to trust him, but Nabaktu said we had no choice." She raised her head painfully, looking around the stark interior of the skimmer. "Where is Nabaktu? Where am I?"

  "What did the Russian look like?" Tuskin asked, leaning over her.

  "He scared me. His eyes were dead. I've seen those eyes before-the workers in the mines look like that after six months under the earth. But his were worse. He would as easily have killed us as talked to us. I don't know why he delivered the bomb-he had our gold. Nabaktu said it was because he was a professional. A man who kept his word."

  "What did he look like?" Tuskin repeated, his hand caressing the handle of his knife.

  Hawkins gave her a sip of water and she closed her eyes in concentration. "Tall. As tall as you. White haired. Thin. Very thin. His face was leathery-a man who spent much time in the outdoors." Her eyes opened as she suddenly remembered. "He had a large ring on his right hand. A black stone with some symbol etched into it."

  Tuskin knelt down next to her, his eyes alert. "What kind of symbol?"

  "It looked like a bird of some sort."

  "A hawk with talons outstretched?" Tuskin asked. "Done in red on the black stone?" He held out his own hand and pointed. "Like this?"

  The girl nodded. "That's it."

  "Shit," Tuskin muttered, and then looked at Hawkins. "I know who it is." He held up the ring. "This ring is worn only by men who have been in Spetsnatz more than twenty years and served honorably. There is only one man who wears that ring and fits that description. And he is the one man who could have done what he did."

  "Who?" Hawkins asked.

  "Colonel Ivan Sergot. He was my Spetsnatz commander when we went into Kabul. An old friend and comrade."

  "Why does your old friend and comrade want a nuclear bomb?" Hawkins asked.

  Tuskin was nodding as he thought about it. "It all makes sense now. It's about his son."

  "His son?" Hawkins asked, confused.

  "His son was a helicopter pilot in the army. He died of radiation poisoning from flying missions over the power plant at Chernobyl, pouring concrete on the main reactor. They buried him right there. Just dumped a load of concrete on the bodies of the helicopter crews because they were too hot to put anywhere else."

  "Jesus Christ," Hawkins muttered.

  "Ivan went crazy for a while. He was removed from command and then retired a year ago. Last I heard he was living down near the Black Sea."

  "You sure it's him?" Hawkins wanted to know.

  Tuskin stood, ignoring the girl at his feet. "There's one way to find out." He moved to the front of the skimmer. "Let's land and get her out and then head north. If my guess is right, I think I know where he might have gone."

  COOPERATION

  Ayers Rock, Australia

  23 DECEMBER 1995, 2030 LOCAL

  23 DECEMBER 1995, 1100 ZULU

  The Russian admiral stared at the black Wall for a long time before turning back to Lamb. "It is the same as the photos my people sent of what they uncovered at Tunguska. The story your Major Hawkins told you is the same one our Colonel Tuskin told. He is reported to be a very reliable man."

  Lamb's gut was still tied in knots. The K-25 helicopter bringing the ranking officer of the Russian fleet off the southern coast of Australia had landed a half hour earlier and he'd spent that time fully briefing a man whom he had worked hard the last several days trying to keep from knowing what was going on. It was an odd change for Lamb and he was having trouble adjusting to it.

  The admiral turned to Lamb. "So what now? I have seen all this and can report to my superiors, but what does it all mean?"

  Lamb shrugged. "I don't know. I think that is for your President and mine to decide between them." He looked the Russian in the eyes. "For me it means that we stop playing games-at least for now-and cooperate."

  THE CRATER

  Meteor Crater, Arizona

  23 DECEMBER 1995, 0400 LOCAL

  23 DECEMBER 1995, 1100 ZULU

  Fran stepped out into darkness, staggering slightly as she felt dirt under her feet. As her eyes adjusted, she could see stars faintly glinting overhead, but all around she was surrounded by darkness. It was as if she was at the bottom of a large bowl, with the sky circling overhead. "Where are we?" she asked.
/>   It was Don who answered her. "We're in Arizona. I've been here before. We're at the bottom of Meteor Crater. Of course, I don't know when we are," he added.

  "The location is correct," Pencak confirmed. "The when is your present."

  "Then you don't need fixed sites like Tunguska and Ayers Rock to travel in time?" Fran asked.

  "No," Pencak answered. "And traveling is not the right word for it. We bend space and time from our master control room in the future. We can travel to any time and any place on the planet. Debra Levy was very correct in her assumptions about wormholes, but she underestimated the scale to which it could be developed-which is very interesting, considering that, in our history, she was one of the key members of the team that developed time travel."

  "Then why the whole setup at Ayers Rock if it wasn't necessary?" Don asked.

  "Ah, but it was very necessary," Pencak replied. She lifted up her cane and squinted at the handle in the dark. "We only have an hour. I will try to do my best to explain what is happening in that time. It is most likely that you two will be the only ones who will know what has really occurred-what is still occurring. And that is how it must be-you must safeguard that knowledge. Many people have dedicated their lives to making what is happening occur. And we will not know for another hour if we have even begun to succeed. If we have, I, and the others like me, we will cease to exist."

  Chernobyl, Ukraine

  23 DECEMBER 1995, 1410 LOCAL

  23 DECEMBER 1995, 1110 ZULU

  The massive mountain of concrete that had once been the Chernobyl nuclear power plant loomed on the horizon as Tuskin brought the skimmer to a landing next to a two-lane tar road covered with wisps of snow.

  "You think he came here?" Hawkins asked as the craft settled with a slight bump.

  "I'm sure he did," Tuskin answered. "The question is, is he still in the area?" Hawkins looked around as the door opened and they stepped out. "How hot is it out here?"