Five feet off the ground, she heard the momentous grumble of the earth being torn apart. She swore as she pulled the collective lever up hard, and the Sea King rose swiftly into the air. A thousand tons of quartz, gravel and sand ripped through the tunnel in a single blast, landing hundreds of feet away from the entrance.
Genevieve fought with her controls to keep the Sea King in the air as the blast-wave struck. She swung the helicopter in a three-hundred-foot arc away from the entrance, and slowly watched with horror as realization dawned.
Elise glanced at the distorted rubble below. “Did the tunnel just cave in?”
Genevieve shook her head. “No way. That amount of blast had to be from dynamite or C4!”
“That’s going to take months to reach anyone who was still down there.” Veyron looked at the rubble. “Tell me our boys weren’t still down there!”
Genevieve swallowed hard. “They were meant to be back an hour ago…”
Chapter Forty-Seven
Sam led the convoy of three Humvees through the meandering lava tube toward the surface. With his foot pressed down hard on the accelerator, the heavy vehicle ran the constantly twisting, winding, and undulating tunnel at speeds more appropriate to a bobsled or a theme park ride than an armored vehicle.
In the front passenger seat, Tom silently checked each of the weapons he’d taken from the arms cache. While in the back Gallagher continued to try and reach anyone on the surface via radio, but they had gone silent since his first transmission.
Sam reached the crest of the dip where they’d found the cowboy’s body, and then quickly descended into the straight section that approached the bottom of the first volcanic vault, where Big Bertha had first punched her way through the volcanic rock and into the ancient world.
Sam spotted the uphill track rising to the main tunnel up ahead. Mentally he picked the route and prepared himself for the steep climb, but he never reached the incline. Instead, he heard the most frightening sound anyone below ground can possibly hear – the rumble of a cave in – and he jammed on the brakes.
Boulders the size of cars came rolling down the steep incline up ahead, destroying everything in their path. He shoved the gear into reverse, but the other Humvees were in his way and hadn’t yet seen what was coming. Instead, he moved the gear into drive and accelerated quickly, keeping his eyes fixed on the smaller opening to a separate tunnel toward the north of the volcanic dome.
He swerved to the left and braked as a small boulder came rolling down in front of him. The instant it passed, he was back on the accelerator. He needed to reach that second tunnel, if they were going to survive the landslide of falling rubble.
Behind them, the men in the second Humvee weren’t quite so lucky. A fragment of obsidian the size of a small bus struck them, crushing the entire vehicle and its occupants as though it were nothing more than a fly being swatted.
Sam entered the second tunnel and drove about fifty feet inside before coming to a rounded turn, stopping so that he could watch the disaster unfold outside the tunnel, while still leaving enough room to continue driving farther into the tunnel if he had to do so. The last Humvee in their small convoy pulled up to a stop behind them.
He stared out the window, watching until the last of the debris finally stopped falling. In its wake the entire area became choked with dust and fine particles of crushed stone, making it impossible to see the remains of the crushed Humvee. Not that it mattered to Sam. He didn’t need to see it to know that all the men inside were crushed.
As the dust settled, Sam moved the Humvee closer to the entrance of the tunnel to see what was left, pulling up so that he faced the tunnel, in case he needed to get out of there in a hurry.
Tom said, “The track’s been destroyed!”
“Not just the track!” Sam’s eyes swept the area above. “The tunnel’s caved in.”
“Or been intentionally destroyed,” Gallagher said.
At the back of the dark tunnel where they’d taken sanctuary, a series of glowing lights lit up the tunnel, like the malevolent and piercing eyes of ancient predators.
“What the hell?” Tom said.
Sam said, “We’ve got company.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
Five motorcycle engines started up simultaneously, their engines purring loudly in the confines of the tunnel. The series of single headlights shined right at the Humvee. The riders wore black armor with matching helmets, giving them an unnaturally menacing appearance. The engines revved in unison, like a bunch of wild dogs restlessly awaiting their release into the wild to hunt.
Tom gripped the handle of his AA-12 shotgun as he studied the riders and grinned. “Let them come. We’re ready.”
Sam held his position, as though he was still trying to decide whether to try and outrun them or fight. “We don’t know what they have?”
“We might not know what they have, but we know we’re in a military grade armored vehicle and we have plenty of firepower.” Gallagher reached for the PKM heavy machine gun and fed the first chain of its ammunition belt into the receiver. “I just wished we’d thought to arm the other crews better.”
Before Sam could make his decision, bullets started to spray their windshield, causing a small series of fine splintered stars to form.
Tom said, “Swing around to the side, and let’s see if our new-found friends are still interested in playing once they know that we’re armed.”
“All right.”
Sam moved the Humvee another ten feet forward into a curve. Tom opened his door and fired half a dozen shots downwind.
Three of the riders were knocked off their bikes, while the other two split up to opposite sides of the tunnel in an attempt to race past. Tom was quick and fired back at the first one, while the second one raced by and out into the main volcanic dome.
Tom swore and climbed back into the Humvee, not wanting to risk being shot at from both directions.
A moment later he heard Gallagher fire a long burst from the PKM heavy machine gun, and the rider who’d slipped past him was killed in seconds.
Tom turned to face Gallagher. “Thanks.”
Through the windshield, he noticed two of the riders get up and start firing at them again. They were wearing some sort of Kevlar protective armor. Tom noticed their own windshield wasn’t holding up to the task as well. Cracks were beginning to form where repeated shots had caused damage to the internal layers of the bullet-proof glass. Even military grade glass was never really bullet-proof.
Sam raced toward their attackers, sending nearly eight thousand pounds of steel racing toward their unprotected and fragile frames.
The two remaining riders immediately jumped onto their bike and took off. Sam tried to follow them, but the tunnel quickly narrowed and even if it hadn’t, the cumbersome Humvee was no match for the speed and agility of the endurance bikes. The two bikes soon disappeared deep into the darkness.
Tom asked, “You got any plans to get us out of here?”
“Not really.” Sam confirmed.
Gallagher said, “What about the long railway tunnel?”
Sam’s eyes narrowed. “It could be a thousand miles to the mainland – assuming the track even goes to the mainland – we’d run out of fuel long before that.”
Tom smiled. “You got a better idea?”
“No.”
“I’d rather make an attempt crossing the railway tunnel. Even if we have a long walk ahead of us, it’s better than trying to dig our way out.” Tom searched for any sign of the motorcycles in the darkness ahead. “Besides, at least that way we’ll know we’ve lost our unwanted guests. I used to ride a KLR 650. Their fuel tanks are tiny. They’ll run out of fuel long before us.”
Sam looked back at Gallagher. “What do you reckon?”
“It could take months for a rescue party to come dig us out. If we have to walk, I’d rather make a start now.”
“All right. That’s decided.”
Sam circled around, stopping nex
t to the second Humvee. Tom wound his window down and told the driver their plan. With everyone in agreement, they set out for the long journey into the unknown.
Behind them, Tom spotted a sudden flash of the motorcyclist’s RPG.
It happened so quickly, his mind couldn’t register what he was seeing. The armor piercing rocket struck the Humvee next to them. Its detonation had a one second delay. There was recognition in the driver’s face, and an instant later, the entire Humvee erupted in a fiery explosion.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Sam floored the Humvee and raced out of the tunnel before the riders could reload and get a second shot off. He swerved to the left, rounding the massive boulder and wreckage of the crushed Humvee.
Tom unclipped his seatbelt and climbed into the back seat, preparing to fire some protective rounds at the motorcycles once they caught up. Next to him Gallagher fed another chain of ammunition into the PKM’s receiver.
The Humvee sped through the tunnel, up over the crest and into the steep dip below. Sam maintained a moderate speed. He needed to move fast enough that the riders wouldn’t have enough time to stop their bikes and fire an RPG, but there was no reason to race – after all, any contest of pure speed and agility, would be won by the motorcyclists with ease.
Behind him, Sam heard Tom fire a couple shots from his shotgun. He then swerved to the left, giving Gallagher room to target their attackers with his machine gun. The motorcyclists didn’t fire any shots back. They couldn’t fire an RPG while moving, and their hand machine guns – most likely Russian made PP-19 Bizon submachine guns – were unlikely to penetrate the bulletproof glass of the Humvee’s rear window.
Soon the motorcycles dropped back, biding their time for a better opportunity to attack. Sam sighed heavily. He, too, was searching for the right time to make a better attack. Soon, they would approach the cathedral grotto – and then who knows what the motorcyclists would try and do.
“What do you want to do when we reach the grotto?” Sam asked, without taking his eyes off the tunnel ahead.
“Why don’t you pull up to the side of the entrance?” Tom answered. “That way, we can shoot them as they come out.”
Sam considered the implications for a moment. “Seems fair. What if they reduce the distance between us, cutting our preparation time short?”
“Then we move to plan B,” Gallagher suggested.
Sam rounded the barricade of stalactites. “Great. What’s our plan B?”
“Keep going until you reach Big Bertha.” Gallagher paused, as though he was still thinking it out in his mind. “When you round her, you hit the brakes long enough for me to get out and I’ll set up inside. Then, you double back around, and I’ll take them out from behind.”
“That could work.”
The tunnel straightened up and the opening to the cathedral grotto came into sight. Sam gunned the accelerator, and the Humvee started to pick up its pace.
Sam glanced in his rearview mirror. The two motorcyclists had opened their throttles up and were now rapidly closing the gap.
Gallagher said, “It looks like it’s going to have to be plan B.”
Sam fixed his eyes on the opening ahead. “Or plan C. You two had better hold on!”
“What’s plan C?” Tom and Gallagher said in unison.
“This.”
Sam jammed on the brakes.
One of the motorcyclists plowed straight into the Humvee’s rear axle with a sickening thud. The second rider swerved to the right and shot around them, racing into the shallow waters.
Sam accelerated quickly, but lost sight of the rider and his motorcycle. “Where the hell did he go?”
Tom swept the area with his eyes. “He’s got to be hiding behind one of those shipping containers.”
“Sure.” Sam slowly drove to the left, toward Big Bertha. “But which one?”
There were three shipping containers close enough for the rider to have reached in the time that he’d had.
Sam slowly skirted the left of each of them in the Humvee. When he reached the last one, there was no sign of the last motorcycle or rider.
He frowned. “Where did he go?”
Tom said, “Kill your headlights for a minute. Let’s see if we can spot his light.”
Sam switched the headlights off and waited.
Their eyes adjusted to the now pitch-dark environment and then they spotted the motorcycle’s headlight. It wasn’t a direct beam, but a sort of radiant glow from behind a shipping container to their right.
Sam gently released the brake and the Humvee lurched forward at a crawling pace in the dark. Tom and Gallagher gripped their weapons, and lowered their respective windows. They might only get one chance at this.
Approaching the edge of the shipping container, Sam whispered. “Ready?”
“Yes.”
Sam shoved his foot down hard on the accelerator and the Humvee leapt forward at speed. He switched the headlights on. The KLR 650 lit up instantly. The motorcycle was resting on its stand, with its single headlight turned on, but no rider to be seen.
“Oh shit!” Sam swore.
He swerved to the right and switched off his headlights again. His front right wheel drove over the motorcycle, and Sam felt it crush under the Humvee’s weight.
A split second later, he saw the flash of the rocket launching from the opposite direction, near the subterranean lake’s shore. He must have left the motorcycle running as a ruse, and then swum under the water directly in front of them! Sam cursed his mistake.
The rocket went wide and struck the shipping container instead, sending a gush of water into the air. The blast-wave struck the back of the Humvee, shoving it forward. Sam gripped the steering wheel hard, trying to fight to keep the military vehicle from rolling.
In the back seats, both Gallagher and Tom emptied round after round of shots toward the rider in the dark. It was impossible to see him in the dark, and even more difficult to know if any of the shots hit their target.
In the midst of the shootout, Sam heard the rider return fire with his submachine gun. It would take a moment for the rider to arm another RPG – even if he was carrying a second rocket – and that was all the time Sam needed to escape. He kept the 6.5L turbo diesel at a roar, and concentrated completely on getting away.
With the motorcycle now crushed, Sam realized all he had to do to defeat the rider was get away. They could now drive down the railway tunnel without any chance of the rider catching up.
The sound of gunfire finally ceased and Sam continued driving in silence. After two to three minutes had passed, and he was certain they were now well out of any possible firing range from the rider – even if he’d survived – Sam finally slowed and glanced over his shoulder.
“Well done, gentlemen. It’s over.”
Tom grinned. “Nice driving. That rocket was close.”
Gallagher just stared forward with lifeless eyes.
Tom swore and moved closer to help. “He’s been hit.”
There was nothing any of them could do to save Gallagher. He’d taken a bullet through the back of his neck and into the base of his spine. He must have died instantly.
Sam continued driving. Tom climbed forward into the passenger seat and neither spoke for a few minutes. Sam concentrated on driving, while Tom simply took it all in.
A lot of people had died in a very short amount of time – all because of the information stored on the Death Stone.
“We need to get the Death Stone out of here and to an astronomer to crack its code. Then, maybe all these deaths will have been worth it, despite their enormous cost. We might still have time to save the human race.”
“I know.” Tom said, ruefully.
Sam approached the opening to the downward lava tube, he watched as the shallow water raced down the slope. The Humvee mounted the lip and began its steady crawl down the steep tunnel.
Despite their tremendous losses, he was feeling positive. They still had half a tank of fuel and tw
o nearly full jerry cans of diesel strapped to the back. All in total, that would allow them to drive nearly a thousand miles along the railway line. After that, he was confident they could walk out of the tunnel. Within a few days, he could regroup with the rest of the crew from the Maria Helena and retrieve the Death Stone.
The Humvee leveled out and all of his hopes changed as they entered the volcanic dome where the railway tunnel ran – because in front of them, black smoke billowed from the boiler of a gray steam train.
Chapter Fifty
Sam rolled his eyes across the strange relic of the past. An anachronism, surrounded by modern weapons, and military hardware. The steam boiler and engine-house was followed by a coal tender – basically a carriage dedicated to hauling coal – followed by four carriages of varying sizes.
The first one was constructed of wood and looked like it belonged in an old western cowboy movie. Decorative candle lights lit up the inside, revealing it to be empty. The second was made out of steel and clearly for the purpose of carrying heavy cargo. It had already been loaded with all the boxes of weapons he and Tom had discovered earlier and possibly the Death Stone. The third carriage was mostly a flat platform and currently housed a forklift at the front and twenty odd feet of spare space most likely expected to be used for the motorcycles. The last carriage housed a heavy machine gun platform.
Despite the train’s size there appeared to be very few occupants on board. Two men climbed down casually from the cargo carriage to greet them. Neither appeared concerned, as they approached with their hands in their pockets. It looked like they were expecting their friends who’d ridden down from the surface.
Sam pulled up right next to them.
Tom rolled his window down. “Good afternoon.”
The two men appeared casual as they greeted them, but reacted impressively fast. Each drawing their weapons without asking who he was or what he wanted. Tom didn’t wait to see the outcome of their speed, and he pulled the AA-12 shotgun’s trigger three times and the two men were dead.
The Sam Reilly Collection Volume 3 Page 43
