A second American, a man almost as small in stature, stood. The woman just looked at him and, in the smallest of moves, shook her head that she didn’t need her private security watchdog following her outside to guard her while she relieved herself. The man, grizzly with a seven-day old growth of beard, winked and then sat back down to finish his breakfast. He exchanged looks with the dark-haired woman sitting next to him and she just shook her head, indicating she needed alone time for personal reasons.
The group of remaining professors relaxed and started to eat again as the woman exited the large tent. She nodded her head at the expedition’s Mongolian escorts as they sat around an open campfire eating their own breakfast. They nodded to her as the eye-pleasing American meandered by them smiling. She spied a dune that would cover her well enough and made her way out of sight.
Sarah McIntire, a captain in the United States Army, and a hidden asset that had been a good reason to attach herself as a guest geologist from the United States Geological Survey, vanished behind one of the larger sand dunes in the area, turning the makeshift sign stuck in the sand around to where it read ‘occupied’. From there she was careful not to step in any areas of previous use by the large team.
She looked around at the endless sand surrounding her and then took a deep breath as she looked at her watch and then toward the blue azure sky above. One minute. She reached into her belly-pack and brought out a small device no larger than her palm. She opened the front and then selected the coded number. This was the fifth and final check-in she had to make before getting on a military fight from Beijing for her trip home to Nevada. Sarah was not a part of the group, but wholly separate. She worked clandestinely for the darkest organization in the American government—Department 5656 of the National Archives. A division known to a select few in officialdom as, the Event Group. The task afforded to their agency was to make sure incidents from the world’s past never reared their ugly heads again. Their job was simple, track, identify and, if possible, remove any obstruction that could cause a cataclysmic repeat of an Event that could become world or history altering. That meant that ninety-five percent of their investigations turned up nothing. However, the remaining five percent could cause the deaths of millions for their failure to recognize an historical trend to such an Event. Her credentials were expertly forged. Even though she was actually a U.S. Army geologist, she was also a spy by trade for Department 5656 of the National Archives or, the Event Group.
The Event Group had attached itself to the survey because of an anomaly that their own KH-11 satellite, Boris and Natasha had detected on a routine survey of the land north of China. At first it was decided that the reading was a false positive of uranium, but soon after arriving, Sarah had come to the conclusion that the old KH-11 was wrong in its information. Sarah was convinced that the readings they received revealed that something was under the mountain range, she just didn’t know what. Without more time on site, she could not justify extending the Group’s interest in the area. Now it was only Crazy Charlie Ellenshaw who had any reason to be here at all. She smiled as she thought about the ridiculous reason he gave the Director for being attached to the assignment. Since his presence was considered a harmless bow to his cryptozoology department, he was allowed to tag along, as long as he never voiced his strange claims as to why he was there. Thus far his theory, along with Sarah’s that something strange was hidden in the desolate mountain range in the Gobi, had both proven laughable.
Sarah looked once more at her wristwatch. She pushed the call button for the only number listed in the satellite phone designed by the communications specialists at Group. A one of a kind device that scrambled any message and then sent it through over a million varying cell towers all over the planet after it left the American made communications satellite operated by the United States Air Force, and then the message would bleed off to nothing—a truly untraceable phone call.
“Good Morning, Captain McIntire,” came the automated response from the Supercomputer, Europa. Her Marilyn Monroe synthesized voice came through clear, and for Sarah it was a comforting sound. For her simple way of thinking about it, it was if the computer was watching her, and that made her feel that much closer to home.
“Good morning Europa,” Sarah said as she glanced around to make sure no prying eyes were on her.
“Communication logged in at 0100 and thirty-two seconds. Signal is secure at this time.”
“Thank you. Please connect me with the Comp Center duty officer.”
“Transferring now, have a safe and pleasant flight home, Captain.”
There came a series of beeps and then an extension was picked up.
“Comp Center,” came a familiar voice.
“Xavier, that you? What are you doing up at this ungodly hour?”
“Captain, great to hear your voice. You know I never sleep, next silly question.”
Sarah and the rest of the Event Group complex had become very close to the wheelchair-bound computer genius since he took over for a very dear friend who had lost his life in the latter days of the war with the Grays. Doctor Pete Golding would have also liked his young replacement. Xavier was just that good at running the most complex computing and artificial intelligence system in the world. The boy was instinctive and had reprogrammed several of Europa’s protocols in order to achieve a better understanding of how to research more with her help. She ran investigations on her own now thanks to the paralyzed Mexican American youth from Central Los Angeles. It was Europa that had alerted the Group as to something strange in the Gobi. With help from the U.S. Geological survey, they had talked the Chinese and Mongolian officials into allowing a team of geologists inside the barren country. She just never believed Europa could be wrong about anything.
“Last check in before the helicopters remove us from the Gobi.”
“Roger, it will be good to see you home again. Sorry about the false run. I would have bet my mother’s pension that you would have found something there to get the Chinese economy back in the black. By the way, I booked you and your team on a United flight instead of the C-130 Hercules out of Beijing. First class.”
“Oh, shit, if the director finds out he’ll kill you.”
“The director made the change, not me.”
The call went silent as Sarah tried to quickly figure out why Department 5656 Director Niles Compton unclasped the purse strings for her return flight. Where a travel budget was concerned, Niles was as cheap as the day was long. Then she realized what it must be. Compton was trying to get on her good side. In other words, he had bad news coming her way. Sarah knew instinctively from which direction that bad news was coming.
“What’s happened, Xavier?” she asked, closing her eyes as she waited.
“Nothing…well, something I guess, but really nothing.”
“Damn it Xavier, I’m going to lose signal here in a minute, now what is it?”
“Okay, okay. I think, and it’s only a guess, that the Director is feeling somewhat responsible for the situation between you and the Colonel. He thinks because he gave authorization for the Colonel and Captain Everett to chase down leads on this Russian shadow government, you’re mad at him.”
“The director knows for a fact this thing is in the bailiwick of the C.I.A. and F.B.I. Not the Group. Those assholes didn’t hesitate in eliminating an entire crew of Russian sailors, so what makes Jack and Niles believe they won’t slice his throat in a split second if they think he’s snooping around?”
“I can tell you’re still a little hot about the colonel’s decision making. Anyway, you’re not the only one angry as hell around here. Captain Mendenhall is furious.”
“Yeah, I hear it every day from his butt-buddy, Ryan. But their anger stems from being left out of this macho hunt Jack and Carl are on. They’re both pissed because they’re not in on it.”
“How is Major Korvesky taking Carl’s end of this?”
“She’s as mad about it as me. But she comes from the same game a
s they do. She understands the drill far better than myself. Now, I can tell by your questions that something else is going on. What is it, Xavier?”
“Nothing, just trying to keep everyone here from being at each other’s throats.”
“Liar. Now, what are they up to?”
“Okay. They have uncovered a lead. But you didn’t hear that from me. That’s all I know.” Xavier didn’t like leaving Sarah out of the loop, but he feared the Colonel far more than the diminutive geologist. “By the way, since your failure to secure new minerals for the Chinese didn’t pan out, I hope Charlie was able to prove his ridiculous theory. Imagine, Shangri—”
The satellite phone beeped once and she looked at the phone. Signal loss at 0110.
Sarah angrily looked at the loss of transmission display on the phone and was tempted to throw the thing as far as she could. Instead she closed her eyes and placed the phone back into her belly pack.
“Damn you, Jack!” she said aloud, not caring who heard her. She was tempted to go and tell the dark-haired woman inside the tent eating breakfast what Jack and Carl were up to, but knew Anya understood their actions far better than she ever could. Anya Korvesky had too much Israeli intelligence still wracking her brain to totally side with her.
Sarah McIntire didn’t want to return to camp the same way she got to the dunes. She would take the long way around as she tried to think this thing through. Jack and Carl, along with the leadership of the Event Group, were now obsessed with finding the Russian entity designed after their own group for the murders of close to three hundred Russian sailors. This mysterious Russian group was a part of a whole—a whole that included a shadow government that had secretly taken over after the fall of communism inside Russia. This group was the puppet master running things, and now the idiot heroes, from the President on down to the higher chain of command of Department 5656, was hotly chasing the truth down with little or no help from the disbelieving C.I.A. and F.B.I.. Sarah was angry that she was now a secondary concern to Jack and she was hating it. She knew the difference between love and hate were so close they resembled each other. She also knew Jack Collins loved her, but with equal ferocity he hated the mysterious Russian entity even more for their murder of innocent Russian sailors and their officers.
As she entered a deep depression between two very large sand dunes, Sarah’s boot struck something in the sand. She fell face first into the warming earth and that was when she couldn’t help but scream. The eyeless skull was looking right at her. She tried her best to scramble up and away from the skeletal remains, but something had wrapped itself around her foot and she was held in place.
Sarah pulled her leg back, and finally whatever had her by the ankle relented its hold. Her eyes widened when she saw what it was that had grabbed her. She again yelped in shock when she saw that the skeletal hand, and most of the arm, was still holding her boot. She scrambled backward until two strong arms hastily picked her up. She thrashed her leg forward and back and finally the arm and hand came free to fly away into the dune next to the grinning skull.
“Whoa, looks like the restroom facilities were already spoken for,” Commander Jason Ryan said as he saw the horror of what was buried in the sand.
“God, I feel like such an idiot,” Sarah said as she reached down and felt her ankle just above her boot.
They were soon joined by Anya Korvesky and the others after they, along with Ryan, heard Sarah’s scream. The remaining six-member field team, minus Charlie Ellenshaw, gathered around the partially buried remains. All stood staring at the find, with the exception of the five Mongolian guides. They were gathered in a group at the top of the dune just looking on silently at the scene below. They stared down upon the circle of geologists, not moving. Sarah noticed this, and was curious as they spoke quietly amongst themselves high above them. She turned her attention back to her unsavory discovery.
Ryan and Anya exchanged looks of wonder as Professor Anderson and Doctor Lee Hong knelt by the sleeve that used to cover the skeleton’s arm. Sarah watched as Professor Anderson started brushing away some of the sand, careful not to disturb the find directly.
“Is it Mongolian?” Professor Birnbaum, the large Australian, asked from the circle of curious scientists.
“If it is, it’s larger than a normal native.” Doctor Lee moved away about five and half feet and started brushing away more sand. “Here’s the feet. And unless the Mongols wear American made boots, this is not a local indigenous person.”
They all saw the dark brown boot that was attached to the right foot.
“I’ll get the guides to bring down some marker flags to make a perimeter around the remains. We’ll treat this as an archaeological site for the time being,” the Australian said.
“Good idea,” Anderson agreed as he winked at Sarah, who was at the moment feeling silly for acting like a frightened school girl.
Professor Louis Birnbaum, the large Australian Professor of geology, turned and looked up at the dune where the Mongolian guides had been, but the dune was empty. “I’ll be buggered. Where did our guides go?” he asked as everyone looked up at the empty space where the native guides had been. Ryan and Anya again exchanged looks. This time it was one of warning they both felt at the sudden disappearance of the Mongol guides.
“I’ll get the marker flags,” Anya said. She wanted to get to the tent and retrieve the firearms she and Ryan had hidden inside a large spectrometer. The major left the circle of onlookers and went to the tents to retrieve the flags and a little insurance.
At that moment, they all heard the sound of one of their Range Rover trucks speeding away. They watched on as their guides hurriedly left the strange scene.
“Hey!” Anderson screamed, waving his arms as the Range Rover sped away across the sand.
“What in the hell was that all about? Bloody wankers!” the Australian chimed in.
Anya returned from the campsite out of breath. “They took all of the communications gear!”
“For our last day on-site, this has decidedly turned a different color of weird,” Professor Anderson said.
The morning had grown chilly as the sun rose near to mid-morning. The group of six geologists looked around, but no one was smiling.
“Well, shall we see what spooked our native contingent so bad they felt they had to steal one of our Rovers?” Anderson said as he and Sarah both went to a knee to examine the makeshift burial site.
Sarah reached for the forearm and hand that had attached itself to her ankle. She gingerly picked it up and looked it over. She gently pulled a shiny item from the wrist of the arm.
“Timex,” she said as she reached up and handed the wristwatch to Jason Ryan, who examined it.
“Professor,” Ryan said as he lowered the Timex wristwatch, “check the sleeve of that jumpsuit, would ya?”
“I’ll be buggered,” Louis Birnbaum said as he easily brushed away a good portion of golden sand. “Look at this,” he said as he straightened from his kneeling position.
The material was sun damaged and worn through in places but still attached. It was the patch that stood out on the right shoulder of the gray coveralls. The cartoonish chicken had boxing gloves on and a cigar in its beak. The patch was round and embroidered. The only indication of its designation was the ‘Fighting 40th’ stitched at the bottom of the round patch beneath the image of the chicken.
Sarah, looking momentarily at Jason, moved to the skeletal remains. As militarily trained as they, Anya suddenly knew what it was they suspected. Sarah leaned over and approximated where the other shoulder would be and brushed the sand away. She looked from the second patch to gaze up at the others standing around her. Her eyes found Ryan.
“Now how in the hell did he get all the way out here in the damn Gobi Desert?” Jason asked no one in particular.
The group of scientists took in the patch and they were confused as to its significance. The golden star with the large capital ‘A’ with green colored wings was the famous patc
h worn by all U.S. Army Air Corps aviators during World War II. Sarah brushed away more sand and saw the silver captain’s bars on the collar of the overall near the remains of the spine and neck bones.
Sarah stood up and glanced around the emptiness of the Gobi. She felt eyes on them but for the life of her she didn’t know from where.
“A captain from the 40th Bomb Group. That unit hasn’t existed since the end of World War II,” Sarah said as she continued to look around their surroundings with a bad feeling creeping into her bones.
“And how would you know that, Tiny?” Anderson asked with a serious look as he continued to gently wipe sand away from the remains.
“Uh, I have a boyfriend, or used to have one, that’s kind of a history buff, mostly military.” Sarah looked at Anderson and saw that he wasn’t concerned if her explanation was a lie or not.
It was Professor Lee that gently reached into the collar and pulled out the round objects that were still attached to the chain. He pulled the ‘dog tags’ free and looked them over.
“Krensky, Everson, Captain,” Lee said as he handed the dog tags over to Sarah.
“Well, I guess the least we can do is take the Captain home with us,” Anderson said as he finally stood. “Let’s get a blanket down here and get him out of this godforsaken sand. Whoever he was, he deserves better than this. We’ll leave it to the Air Force to come up with an answer as to how he got here.”
“Jason, we need to find Charlie. He’s been gone since before dawn. He said he wanted to do some digging around the base of the mountain before we abandon this place.”
Ryan looked at Anya and shook his head. “That damn lost city of his again. How can Crazy Charlie bring himself to argue with every geological survey satellite in the world and still think there is some ancient city buried out here. Jesus, sometimes he pushes things a little too hard. I’ll find him.”
Empire of the Dragon Page 7
