The Six Sacred Stones jw-2

by Matthew Reilly

  This was serious.

  Jack quickly grabbed a paperback novel from the nearby bookshelf—the same novel that Wizard had used to compose the message in China—and began flicking pages, unraveling the coded communication.

  He jotted down words underneath each numerical reference until at last he had the full message and his blood ran cold:

  (3/289/-5/5) (3/290/-2/6) (3/289/-8/4) (3/290/-8/4) (3/290/-1/12)

  GET OUT GET OUT NOW!

  (3/291/-3/3) (1/187/15/6) (1/168/-9/11)

  GRAB FIRE STONE

  (3/47/-3/4) (3/47/-4/12) (3/45/-163) (3/47/-1/5)

  AND MY BLACK BOOK

  (3/305/-3/1) (3/304/-8/10)

  AND RUN

  (3/43/1/12) (3/30/-3/6)

  NEW EMERGENCY

  (3/15/7/4) (3/15/7/3)

  VERY DANGEROUS

  (3/63/-20/7) (3/65/5/1-2)

  ENEMIES ARE COMING

  (3/291/-14/2) (3/308/-8/11) (3/232/5/7) (3/290/-1/9)

  WILL MEET YOU AT

  (3/69/-13/5) (3/302/1/8)

  GREAT TOWER

  (3/55/-4/11-13) (3/55/-3/1)

  THE WORST IS COMING

  “Holy shit…” Jack breathed.

  He snapped to look back out the kitchen window, saw Lily and Alby still playing out by the barn. Then he saw the hazy orange sky beyond them, glorious in the morning sun—

  —as it began to fill with falling figures, dozens and dozens of them, figures that issued blooming parachutes above them, slowing their falls.

  Paratroopers. Hundreds of paratroopers.

  Coming for his farm.

  THE ATTACK ON JACK’S FARM

  WEST BURST OUT of the farmhouse, calling, “Kids! Get over here! Quickly!”

  Lily turned, perplexed. Alby did too.

  West motioned in sign language as he spoke: “Lily, pack a suitcase! Alby, get all your stuff! We’re leaving in two minutes!”

  “Leaving? Why?” Alby said.

  Lily, however, knew the look on West’s face.

  “Because we have to,” she said/signed. “Come on.”

  West rushed back into the farmhouse and pounded on the doors of the farm’s two guest rooms. “Zoe! Sky Monster! Wake up! We’re in trouble again!”

  Out of guest room No.1 stepped Sky Monster, a hairy New Zealander who was West’s good friend and resident pilot.

  With his great black beard, potbelly, and overgrown eyebrows, Sky Monster wasn’t exactly pretty first thing in the morning. He had a real name, but no one except his mother seemed to know it.

  “Not so loud, Huntsman,” he growled. “What’s up?”

  “We’re being invaded.” West pointed out the window.

  Bleary-eyed, Sky Monster looked out through it and saw the swarm of falling parachutes filling the morning sky. His eyes sprang wide.“Australia is being invaded?”

  “No, just us. Just this farm. Get dressed and then get down to The Halicarnassus. Prep her for immediate liftoff.”

  “Gotcha.” Sky Monster hurried away, just as the door to guest room No.2 opened, revealing a far more pleasant sight.

  Zoe Kissane emerged from her room, dressed in a spare pair of West’s pajamas. With sky-blue eyes, short blond hair, and a lightly freckled face, she was a true Irish beauty. She was also on leave from the Sciathan Fhianoglach an Airm, the famed crack commando unit of the Irish Army. A veteran of the Capstone adventure, she and West were close, and—some said—getting closer. The end tips of her blond hair were also electric pink, the remains of a hair session with Lily the previous day.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but West just pointed out the window.

  “Well, you don’t see that every day,” she said. “Where’s Lily?”

  Jack ducked into his room, snatching stuff from all sides: a canvas miner’s jacket, a fireman’s helmet, and a double-holstered gun belt that he strapped round his waist. “Getting her things. Alby’s with her.”

  “Oh God, Alby. What will we—”

  “We take him with us.”

  “I was going to say, what will we tell his mother? ‘Hi, Lois, yes, the kids had a great summer, outran an invading force of paratroopers.’”

  “Something like that,” Jack said, dashing into his study and emerging a moment later with a large black leather folder.

  Then he hurried past Zoe, heading down the hallway to the back door of the farmhouse. “Get your things and corral the kids. We’re leaving in two minutes. I have to get the top piece of the Capstone.”

  “The what—? ” Zoe asked, but West had already dashed out into the sunlight, the screen door clapping shut behind him.

  “And grab the codebooks and computer hard drives, too!” came his distant shouting voice.

  A moment later, Sky Monster came bustling out of his guest room, buckling his belt and holding his pilot’s helmet. He too shoved past Zoe—with a gruff “Mornin’, Princess”—before stomping out the back door.

  And suddenly Zoe woke up to the situation.

  “Holy shit.” She hurried back into her room.

  Jack West hustled across the backyard of his farmhouse and dashed inside the entrance to an old abandoned mine set into a low hill there.

  He hurried down a dark tunnel, guided by the penlight attached to his fireman’s helmet, until after about a hundred yards he came to a larger space, a wide chamber containing…

  …the Golden Capstone.

  Nine feet tall, glittering and golden, the great mini-pyramid that had once sat atop the Great Pyramid at Giza possessed an authority, a presence, that humbled Jack every time he saw it.

  Arrayed around the Capstone were several other artifacts from his previous adventure, artifacts that were all in some way related to the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World: the Mirror from the Lighthouse at Alexandria, the head of the Colossus of Rhodes.

  On occasion, Jack would come here and just sit and stare at the priceless collection of treasures assembled in the cavern.

  But not today.

  Today he grabbed an old stepladder and climbed up alongside the Capstone and carefully removed its uppermost piece, the only piece that was itself a pyramid, the Firestone.

  The Firestone was small, its square base perhaps as wide as a hardback book. At its summit was a tiny clear crystal, an inch wide. All the other pieces of the Capstone possessed similar crystals in their centers, all seven of which lined up in a row when the Capstone was assembled.

  West tucked the Firestone into his rucksack and hurried back out the exit tunnel.

  As he ran down it, he triggered several black boxes mounted on wooden supports along the way—red lights blinked on. At the last support beam, he switched on a final box and grabbed a remote hand held unit that had lain on top of the box for just this occasion.

  Then West was out, back in the morning sunshine, standing before the entrance to the old mine.

  “I never wanted to do this,” he said sadly.

  He hit DETONATE on the remote. Muffled sequential booms thudded out from the mine tunnel as each charge detonated, the innermost charges going off first.

  Then, with a great rushing whoosh, a billowing cloud of dust came blasting out from the mine’s entrance. As the last charge exploded, it caused a landslide to cascade down from the low hill above the mine entrance, a loose body of rubble, sand, and rocks.

  Jack turned and ran back toward the farmhouse.

  If he’d had time to look back, he would have seen the great dust cloud settle. Once the dust had completely come to rest, all that remained in its place was a hill—a plain ordinary rock-and-sand-covered hill no different from any of the dozen others in the surrounding area.

  Jack returned to the farmhouse in time to see Sky Monster zoom off in a pickup truck, heading south for the hangar.

  The parachutes were still falling from the sky, many of them close to the ground now. There were literally hundreds of them, some obviously bearing armed men, while others were larger chutes carrying oversized objects: jeeps and trucks.
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  “Mother of God…” Jack whispered.

  Zoe was pushing Lily and Alby out the back door of the farmhouse, with a computer hard drive tucked under one arm.

  “Did you grab the codebooks?” West called.

  “Lily’s got ’em!”

  “This way, to the barn!” West waved them to follow.

  The four of them ran together, two adults, two children, struggling with either backpacks or essential gear, with Horus flying above them.

  As he ran, Alby saw West’s guns.

  West noticed the shocked look on the boy’s face. “It’s OK, kid. This sort of thing happens to us all the time.”

  West came to the barn’s huge door, ushered the others inside before he peered out after Sky Monster’s pickup as it sped south alongside a spur of hills, kicking up a thick dust cloud behind it—

  But then a parachutist cut off his view of the truck, a fully equipped Chinese trooper who hit the dusty ground and rolled skillfully, slewed his chute, and quickly pulled out an automatic rifle.

  Then he started running directly for the farmhouse.

  Another man landed behind him. Then another, and another.

  West swallowed. He and the others were cut off from Sky Monster. “Damn it, damn it,” he breathed.

  Then he ducked inside the barn as over a hundred more paratroopers hit the ground on every side of his farm.

  THE EAST DRIVE

  MOMENTS LATER,the barn doors blasted open, and two compact all-wheel-drive vehicles boomed out from it.

  They looked like something out of a Mad Max movie.

  They were modified Longline “Light Strike Vehicles,” or LSVs—ultralight two-seater dune buggies with chunky all-terrain tires, high-tolerance wishbone suspension, and sleek bodies made only of roll bars and struts.

  Jack and Alby were in the first car; Zoe and Lily in the second.

  “Sky Monster!” Jack called into the radio-mike wrapped around his throat. “We’re cut off from you! We’re going to have to meet you at the highway! We’ll take the east drive and the river crossing.”

  “Copy that,”Sky Monster’s voice replied.“The highway it is.”

  “Jack,”Zoe’s voice came in.“Who are these people, and how the hell did they find us?”

  “I don’t know,” Jack said. “I don’t know. But Wizard knew they were coming. He sent us a warning—”

  Just then, a storm of bullets chewed a line across the dirt road in front of Jack’s car. Jack yanked his steering wheel hard over, blasted through the dust cloud.

  The shots had come from a big all-terrain vehicle thundering in from the desert plain to the north.

  It was a distinctive six-wheeled vehicle, a WZ-551 armored personnel carrier built by the Chinese North Industries Corporation for the PLA. Featuring heavy armor and a French-made Dragar turret on its top, it had a box-shaped body and a flat prowlike nose that sloped backward underneath it. The Dragar turret boasted a brutish 25mm cannon and a 7.62mm coaxial machine gun.

  It was the first of many APCs coming from the north. Jack counted seven…nine…eleven vehicles behind it, plus even more smaller ones, jeeps and trucks, all overflowing with armed troops.

  It was the same from the south: men and vehicles had touched down there, discarded their chutes, and were now coming north toward the east drive.

  An armada of vehicles coming right at them, from both the north and the south.

  Zoe’s voice:“Jack! Those APCs look Chinese!”

  “I know!”

  He keyed his radio scanner, picked up the broadcast frequency for the Talisman Sabre exercises. A voice was shouting:“Red Force Three! Come in! You are way off course for this drop! What the hell are you guys doing!”

  Clever, West thought. His attackers had made this look like an exercise drop gone wrong.

  He evaluated his options.

  The east drive led to the Fitzroy River, a north–south-running river that was currently full, it being the wet season. A single bridge spanned it. Beyond that river was an old highway which—at one straight section—doubled as West’s own private runway.

  If his cars could make it across the river before the inrushing forces cut them off, they could make it to the highway, where they’d rendezvous with Sky Monster.

  But a quick glance at the twin columns coming at him from the north and the south revealed a simple mathematical truth: it was going to be close.

  West’s LSV roared down the dusty east drive.

  In the passenger seat, Alby gripped the roll bar, his eyes wide with terror.

  West glanced over at the little boy.

  “Bet you never experienced anything like this at another kid’s house over the summer!”

  “Nope!” Alby shouted over the whipping wind.

  “You a Boy Scout, Alby?”

  “Yes!”

  “And what’s the Boy Scout motto?”

  “Be prepared!”

  “Absolutely! Now, young man, you’re gonna find out why you’re not allowed to play on the cattle crossings or the bridge.”

  The two LSVs whipped down the dusty road—with their twin hordes of pursuers closing in from either side, converging on them in a V-shaped formation. Giant clouds of dirt rose behind the two incoming forces.

  “Zoe! Swing in front!” West called.

  Zoe obeyed, pulled her car in front of West’s, just as the two cars zoomed over a cattle grid.

  As his LSV shot over the grille, however, West swung left, plowing right into a low signpost that read CATTLE CROSSING.

  The post—unknown to the casual observer—was equipped with a trip wire that snapped as the LSV shot over it, triggering a concealed mechanism that launched a hundred six-pronged nails onto the roadway behind the fleeing car.

  Alby turned, saw the star-shaped nails bounce down onto the road, fanning out all across it, just as the first pursuing jeep—the men on it firing hard—drove right into the field of nails.

  Blasting puncture noises ripped the air as all four of the jeep’s tires blew and the vehicle skidded and then flipped, spraying men in every direction.

  A second jeep suffered a similar fate, but the rest skirted the nail field, bouncing around the suspect section of road.

  Alby watched them crash, before turning to face West, who shouted over the wind, “Be prepared!”

  Alby then swung back to see the trailing APCs, slower than the jeeps, reach the nails—with their runflat tires they just thundered right over them, impervious to damage.

  Chasing. Pursuing. Hunting.

  As she drove, Zoe continued to monitor the airwaves with her car’s radio scanner. A moment after the two jeeps crashed, it picked up voices speaking in Mandarin over a secure military frequency.

  “Jack!” she called into her own mike. “I got the bad guys on UHF 610.15!”

  In his car, Jack switched to that channel and heard the voices of his enemy speaking Mandarin:

  “Heading east in two cars—”

  “Ground Force Seven is in pursuit—”

  “Ground Force Six is going for the bridge—”

  “Command. This is Ground Force Two. We’re right on their tail. Please repeat capture instructions—”

  A new voice came on the line, a calmer one, one possessing clear authority.

  “Ground Force Two, this is Black Dragon. Capture instructions are as follows: priority one is the Firestone; priority two, the girl and West, both are to be captured alive, if possible. Any other captives are to be executed. There can be no witnesses to our doings here.”

  Hearing this, West snapped to look over at Alby. Then he looked forward at Zoe, driving the lead car.

  It was one thing to know that if everything ended badly, you were safe, but it was another thing entirely to know that those dear to you were not.

  “You hear that?”Zoe said over the radio.

  “Yep,” West said, his jaw tightening.

  “Please get us out of here, Jack.”

  AS JACK’S AND ZOE�
�Scars sped away to the east, a Chinese command APC was arriving at Jack’s farmhouse, flanked by several escort jeeps.

  As it skidded to a halt, two men stepped out of it, one Chinese, the other American. While the Chinese man was clearly older, both bore the rank of major on their collars.