The Secret of Hades' Eden

by Graham J. Thomson

  At another junction she stopped and tried to remember which way to go. Her mind had gone blank. No matter how hard she tried she couldn’t retrace her steps, her thoughts were clouded by fear. At random she turned left and began to walk. Things looked more familiar, she was sure she had seen the room numbers before. Her mind cleared, she assembled the image of the grid system in her mind and quickened her pace.

  After turning the next corner, she froze. Her heart skipped a beat, she drew air sharply. The same Vietnamese man from earlier was walking towards her with his now empty trolley. He bowed his head as he passed her but he didn’t stop this time, there was no salute. Ella nervously glanced behind her. Hesitantly, she approached him.

  ‘Can you help me, please?’ she said a little too quickly. ‘I’m lost.’ She strained a smile. The little man looked up at her blankly and frowned. He shook his head and mumbled something in a language she didn’t understand.

  ‘The exit,’ Ella emphasised. ‘Way out?’ There were signs of vague recognition in the man’s weary face. He said something but Ella still couldn’t understand him.

  ‘Out?’ she said, vigorously pointing upwards. The little man nodded and waved for her to follow him. He pushed his trolley up against the wall and headed off down the corridor. Despite her concerns, Ella knew she had little option. She followed.

  Two soldiers appeared, coming her way from around a corner. They walked quickly and with purpose, almost a jog. Each of them held a short sub-machine gun held tightly in both hands. Ella’s stomach somersaulted, the blood drained from her face. As they approached she drew breath and held it. They were almost upon her. Her chest tightened, she felt her legs weaken. But the soldiers ignored her and shot past without as much as a second glance.

  She followed the little man until he stopped at a door, it was marked S-21. He opened it and went in, Ella followed.

  Ella found herself in what she thought looked much like a changing room. It was full of metal cabinets and wooden benches. Each cabinet was marked with a four digit number. Grey uniforms and black boots were scattered untidily along the benches. From an adjoining room came the sound of a running shower.

  She had an idea, she looked around the place for something. Quickly, she rifled through some of the unlocked cabinets. Frustrated and confused, the little man waved frantically at her from a door at the back of the room. But Ella was too busy to notice. Finally she spotted what she was looking for and reached for it: a black rucksack. She emptied its contents onto the floor, and clumsily, tried to stuff the flag-wrapped bundle into it. The Biblos Aletheia slid out and fell to the floor. There was still some wet blood on its surface. Quickly, she picked it up and stuffed it into the bag along with the book and the blood-soiled flag. The rucksack was heavy, she slung it over her shoulder and caught up with the little man. He frowned deeply at her.

  She smiled nervously. ‘Exit?’ she said.

  The man pointed down a dank, narrow tunnel. ‘Up,’ he said waving his hand for emphasis. ‘Up.’

  At the end of the narrow, dimly lit tunnel, Ella could just make out a spiral, metal staircase. It rose up into the cut bare rock. ‘Thank you,’ she said and left him at the door as she walked towards the staircase. She didn’t dare look back, but she could feel his worried eyes on her. Her legs felt like they were about to fail her, she forced herself forwards. When she reached the stairs she braved a glance back. The little man had gone. Despite the weight of the rucksack she bounded up the steel steps as fast as she could.

  *

  The spiral stairs rose up through the wet, solid rock for at least fifty metres. Ella went around and around, up and up. She had to stop several times to catch her breath. When she finally reached the top she was exhausted. Sweat poured off her forehead, her heart pounded her chest. She squatted on the cold metal floor and scanned her surroundings. Cut into the stone was a single door with a small light above it. The door looked much like a fire exit, there was a metal push-bar across it at waist level. Screwed to the wall was a sign that read “South Wing Emergency Exit”, it had a basic map of the complex that showed where the exit was. Barely visible, high up on the ceiling, was a CCTV camera.

  Ella forced herself to her feet and approached the exit. She pushed on the bar. It didn’t budge. She pushed harder. But still no movement. She stood back and kicked it. The door burst open, bright light poured into the chamber. She raised her hand to her eyes and squinted.

  As she exited she noticed that a red light next to the one above the door had started to flash on and off. An alarm, she feared. She cursed under her breath. There was no hiding from them now. At the exit she clung to the door and waited until her eyes adjusted to the light.

  Squinting, she took in her new surroundings. To her relief she was outside by the side of the mountain, about one-hundred metres up from the base of it. There was nothing other than the wilderness for as far as she could see. Up ahead was the dense forest. Above her, a storm was brewing.

  She looked down at her watch and ran her fingers over it. The dial was still pressed in. There was still hope that help would be on its way. A lump caught in her throat. She thought of William and smiled to herself. Somehow she knew she would see him again.

  A sudden noise from behind caught her attention. Nervously, she peered back into the vast underground complex and listened carefully. She could just about make out the faint sound of jackboots on metal stairs. They became louder with every step. Time was running out. Time to move.

  Above her, the sky was at war. White, grey and black clouds battled for supremacy. The land that lay before her darkened. From somewhere far off came the low rumble of thunder. She settled her eyes on the way forward; the forest beckoned her.

  High above the tree tops at the forest’s edge, a gap formed in the grey canvas. Squinting, Ella watched as the gap morphed into an unmistakable shape: a cross. The familiar shape conjured a voice from the past; the words echoed in her mind. By this sign you will be victor. Bright yellow sunlight spewed through it and the warmth radiated onto her pale face. For some reason the tension in her chest momentarily disappeared, a brief wave of confidence cleansed her of the negative thoughts. She shut her eyes and smiled. But as quickly as it came, the gap closed and the ray of warm light vanished.

  Finally, the tension in the air was released. A bright bolt of blue-white lightening burned through the air. Sharp forks of intense energy arced across the sky over the forest. The clouds lit up, once, twice, then again in the space of a second. A moment later the ensuing thunderclaps were deafening, they echoed across the island. It began to rain.

  Feeling a surge of energy and drive, Ella launched herself into the unknown. She ran for her life.

  As she ran straight towards the forest, the rain quickly soaked her. The ground was a slimy, sodden sludge. Her feet sank into the mud as she sprinted, it rapidly drained her of her strength; her legs became dead weights. She gritted her teeth and battled on. Intuitively she used the rocks as stepping stones wherever she could find them.

  Hearing voices, she glanced back towards the mountain and scanned the scene. Her heart skipped a beat when her eyes focused on the figures that pursued her. Two, no three, soldiers were gaining on her. Determined to escape them, she faced forward and gave it everything she had. Dropping the rucksack would give her an advantage, she knew, but its contents were priceless. She had to keep it with her at all costs.

  On reaching the forest the ground became firmer and her pace quickened to a sprint. The wind whistled in her ears as she disappeared under the thick canopy.

  An exposed tree root caught her foot. She tripped and tumbled in the detritus, the heavy rucksack dragged her down. Immediately, she picked herself up, wiped the mud off her face and spat out the filth. She looked around desperately and tried to get her bearings. Her eyes widened, she had no idea where she had come from or where she had been heading. It all looked the same.

  Strange whizzing sounds shot past her, they were followed almost instantly by l
oud thunder claps. Instinctively she ducked. Coming from somewhere behind her, two of the rounds hit the sides of a nearby tree, wet bark and wood exploded into a shower of splinters and steam. There was only one direction to run in.

  Ella sprinted from her pursuers deeper into the forest. As she went she prayed that her path would lead, somehow, to safety. Hope spurred her on, fear and adrenaline provided a boost of energy that she never knew she had. She zigzagged from tree to tree, leaped over fallen trunks, and tried to stay out of sight. But in her white suit she stuck out like a beacon in the dark forest.

  Several more shots were fired. Orange tracer rounds whizzed past her barely metres away. The ground burned and hissed where they landed. But still she sprinted onwards.

  Up ahead, she saw what looked like a clearing. Soft light penetrated through the canvas of trees. A road, she hoped, she prayed. Relief washed over her, the options played out in her mind. She could flag a driver down, call the police. Spirited with fresh hope, she gritted her teeth and gave it everything she had for the final few hundred metres. Her muscles burned and her lungs and throat felt like sandpaper; the contents of her stomach petitioned her to stop.

  As she approached the clearing she saw the crisp bright light of the sky that bit through the trees. There was a swishing noise too, louder and louder it became as she neared. Eagerly she raced towards the light. When she reached the edge of the forest she stopped. Her breathing was short and rapid. She gripped the rough trunk of an old pine tree. Her legs were unsteady and shaky, her heart pounded. Ella stared wide eyed at the sight before her in utter horror. Then she doubled over, vomited and fell to her knees.

  Ahead of her the forest floor disappeared down a cliff and into a ravine. At the bottom was a fast flowing river. Angry rapids, white and frothing, crashed noisily against the black rocks.

  There was no road, no traffic. No way out.

  ‘No,’ Ella screamed hysterically into the valley, all her hopes finally and cruelly crushed. ‘Please help me, someone,’ she screeched between short, shaky breaths. ‘Please.’

  Cautiously, the three soldiers approached the clearing; their weapons held tightly. Streaks of black and green camouflage cream covered their sweaty faces. Each wore a combat uniform with an armoured chest-plate, webbing and pouches. High on their left arms was a square patch that had the red triangle, the pentagram and the eye.

  Ella turned on her knees to face her tormentors. She clasped her hands together. Tears ran down her petrified face. She pleaded for mercy as the soldiers crept closer. Her eyes focussed on one of the weapons. It was a flame thrower. A bright blue flame burned furiously at the end of the long black shaft.

  A strong gust of wind blew around her. Trees were violently blown back and forth. Loose leaves and rainwater took to the air and danced around the soldiers obscuring their vision.

  There was a deafening noise and, frozen by fear, Ella could only watch in awe as a huge red and orange fireball expanded towards her.

  Chapter 40

  1912hrs – Mediterranean sea, north of Malta

  The Royal Fleet Auxiliary vessel, Largs Bay, was a Bay-class landing ship and supported the Royal Navy with an advanced amphibious capability. The huge grey vessel could transport hundreds of troops, dozens of tanks and tons of military equipment. The large bay doors on its bow were designed to deliver its payload directly to enemy shores.

  Through the ocean she ploughed at full speed ahead. The sea was rough. Tide and wind clashed furiously which produced a huge swell. Angry waves peaked at ten metres high. The vessel’s bay doors mercilessly crashed through them and threw up a gush of water fifty metres into the air, which then crashed down over the deck. As she sailed ever closer to the Italian coast the sky darkened. They were headed into a storm.

  From the ship’s stern, a V-22 Osprey transport jet slowly approached. A cross between a Chinook and a transport plane, it had wings fitted with large rotors, a twin tail fin and a grey, bulbous, glass nose. The rotors moved to the horizontal position and the plane transformed into a helicopter. Once it was directly over the ship’s deck it hovered thirty metres above. Below it, on deck, a sailor with a high visibility vest battled with the wind and waved two batons that glowed bright orange. The Osprey pilot fought with the controls to keep the craft level with the ship while one by one the team fast-roped down. Their heavy Bergens dangled on a bungee two metres below each trooper as they went. The wind, laden with seawater, clawed at them as they descended to the deck. Paddy gave Max a quick two-minute education on fast-roping before the terrified little man descended to what he feared would be his death. When he made it down safely he wiped his brow and grinned nervously up at the craft. Paddy followed him out.

  William was the last to exit. He pulled on a pair of black gloves, pushed his Bergen off the ramp and held onto the thick fast-rope. When Paddy had safely made it, William threw himself out. When he was halfway down the Osprey dropped several metres and lurched to the side. He held on tightly and wrapped his legs around the rope as he swung from side to side. Beneath him, the sea boiled. The water rushed up towards him, he braced himself for impact, but it never came. He felt the strain of acceleration, and the Osprey moved back into position. Below him the sailor waved his batons frantically, William relaxed his grip and slid down the rope. When he reached the deck another sailor rushed over to him and helped him to his feet. The Osprey rose vertically and flew off to the side, its rotors moved to the forward position and the aircraft vanished into the clouds.

  ‘Welcome aboard, sir,’ said the sailor shouting to be heard over the wind and rain. ‘Follow me.’

  William slung his Bergen over his shoulder and followed his guide into the safety of the ship’s inners. He was taken straight to the officers briefing room. The rest of the team were assembled there and were already preparing for the next phase of the mission. Paddy sat with his laptop out on a table, he had a satellite phone pressed to his ear. Max made himself useful by linking the laptop up to a laser projector. The four troopers were stood huddled around a map of the area that was pinned to one of the bulkheads, while Rupert briefed them from it.

  ‘And you must be Agent Temple,’ said a short man whose tanned but serious face was covered by a thick, black beard. He was dressed in blue trousers and a navy blue jumper, the collar of a white shirt poked out of the jumper. Several thick gold lines ran across the black epaulettes on his shoulders. ‘I’m Captain Hilary. I received your orders some time ago, but I’m afraid she’s not built for speed. We’re twenty miles off the Italian coast.’

  ‘Is the helicopter ready?’ William asked. He laid his Bergen on the floor next to the rest of them.

  ‘Yes, the Merlin is on deck, fully fuelled and ready to go. But let’s hope this storm doesn’t get any worse.’

  ‘Postponing this mission is not an option,’ William stated firmly. ‘Any armaments?’

  ‘Fitted with an M134 Gatling mini-gun.’

  With a boyish gleam in his eye, Paddy turned to William. ‘It’s a six barrelled, electrically driven machine gun,’ he said like Christmas had come early. ‘Fires seven-point-six-two millimetre at a rate of three-thousand rounds per minute. The best fire suppressant a soldier can ask for.’

  The Captain nodded. ‘We were going to test it during the exercise,’ he added. ‘The operator is a gunner from the Royal Marines. Do you need him too?’

  ‘Please,’ William said. ‘We’ll be leaving as soon as we have confirmation of the target.’

  When the Captain left the room, William joined Paddy at the table. His laptop was open and he was reading through the data Ollie had emailed him.

  ‘So what’s the update?’ William asked.

  ‘Ollie picked up another signal from Ella’s watch. At the time it was located at a point at sea not far from the Aeolian Islands. But he’s had nothing since, no signal, nothing. It’s gone quiet.’

  ‘And the eye in the sky?’

  Paddy turned back to the laptop, the screen was projected on
to a whiteboard mounted on the bulkhead. He opened one of the video files and pressed play, it was a section of colour footage from the Phantom Eye. The Ekranoplan could be seen pulling up to a pier by an empty white beach. A series of numbers on the bottom corner of the screen showed the date, time, longitude and latitude.

  ‘Where exactly is that?’ William asked.

  Minimising the video window, Paddy opened another file, a satellite image of the whole island. ‘Right here, where the red circle is,’ he said.

  Paddy switched back to the video footage and they all watched as the Ekranoplan pulled up to the pier and docked. Three people dressed in red uniforms could be seen attending to the craft. The camera zoomed in, it showed the scene in incredible detail. The hatch to the Ekranoplan opened and a man emerged.

  ‘Cossack,’ William spat. His heart jumped when he saw Ella being dragged behind him. ‘Bastards.’ He watched her as she was dragged by the men into the forest. If William hadn’t been so engrossed with the footage he would have noticed that the room had fallen silent. When the four figures disappeared under the forest canopy the colour camera was useless; the image flickered, the colours vanished and were replaced by an odd mix of black and white. It took a moment for the team to adjust to what they were seeing.

  ‘Thermal imaging,’ Paddy announced. ‘Warm is black, cold is white.’

  Four black figures were easily made out walking under the cloud-like white and grey canopy that was the forest. The camera followed them along a winding path until they stopped. It was clear from the camera angle that there was a wide entrance cut into the mountainside. The figures walked into it and disappeared. The camera zoomed out and systematically scanned the surrounding area.

  ‘The image analyst from the Phantom team has studied the footage,’ Paddy went on. ‘They reckon there is an extensive underground complex under the old volcano.’

  With an extendible pointer in one hand, William took up a position by the side of the map that was pinned to the bulkhead. The whole extended team gathered around him.