Ancient Origins: Books 4 - 6 (Ancient Origins Boxset Book 2)

by Robert Storey

  ♦

  Hilt edged away from Samson and towards the Anakim Sphinx. He knew three against one at the best of times was testing, against S.I.L.V.E.R. operatives it was a forgone conclusion. The colonel was a dead man.

  S.I.L.V.E.R.’s leader noticed Hilt’s movement and placed a hand on Zhang’s shoulder, staying her attack on Samson.

  ‘Commander,’ Ophion said, ‘I cannot let you leave.’

  Hilt eyed Ophion and the third assassin, who moved to his leader’s side.

  So much for three against one, Hilt thought, and he stopped his retreat, while noticing his discarded shield lay on the ground to his right. ‘I have no quarrel with S.I.L.V.E.R..’

  The third assassin adjusted his grip on his rifle. ‘You should have told your men that before they attacked us.’

  ‘It is a pity you didn’t accept our offer all those years ago,’ Ophion said. ‘The benefits of S.I.L.V.E.R. are beyond anything Darklight can provide.’

  ‘I don’t live to kill,’ Hilt said.

  ‘We all kill, Commander.’

  ‘Indeed, but I do it to protect the weak; you kill to protect the strong, there’s a difference.’

  Ophion shook his head. ‘And that is where you are wrong.’ He glanced at the man at his side and then to Zhang. ‘Take them.’

  Zhang leapt towards Samson while Hilt dived to his right as the other assassin opened fire.

  Bullets ricocheted off his armour and Hilt grabbed his shield and deflected another barrage before Ophion’s man was on him. A blade lanced towards his visor. Hilt twisted and the sword scraped down the side of his helmet. With a heave he thrust the man back as they both shimmered out of sight. Hilt scrolled through his visor’s spectrums, trying to locate the man’s ever-changing visual signature. Movement left made him duck as an explosion threw him from his feet. He landed on his back, dazed – his sword gone.

  The chrome-clad figure emerged from the dark and stood over him, rifle in hand. ‘I expected more.’

  Hilt glimpsed the glint of steel lying on the ground a few feet away and he raised his shield and rolled towards it as the rifle discharged. Hilt scooped up Samson’s deactivated sword and launched it at the assassin’s head. The blade sliced through the air to plunge through the man’s visor and out the back of his helmet with a sickening crunch.

  The S.I.L.V.E.R. operative toppled to the ground, dead, and Hilt got to his feet and pulled the sword free. He turned back to Ophion as Zhang stalked Samson in the background.

  ‘That was well done,’ Ophion said, approaching, ‘but lucky.’

  Hilt picked up his own sword, reactivated both blades, and opened his helmet’s face-plate. ‘Luck should never be underestimated.’

  Ophion nodded and drew forth a sword of his own, its long blade also glowing white with heat.

  The storm intensified and S.I.L.V.E.R.’s leader looked up to the heavens. ‘A student can only learn from a master.’ He produced another sword, but this blade shimmered dark, like its sibling’s ghost.

  Hilt lowered his visor. ‘And which one are you?’

  Thunder rumbled and Ophion sealed his own helmet before looking back at him. ‘I am your death.’

  Chapter Forty-Six

  The visor on Sarah’s helmet blurred, its digital image distorting against the dark. She rapped her knuckles against it and the picture cleared. She touched the wall before her, its surface slick with water. She’d taken a wrong turn.

  I’m lost, she thought in despair.

  A vision of Locke killing her friends flared in premonition. She turned and ran back the way she’d come, dodging through a sea of towering columns, unsure which way was where and which side was which. Mist hung in patches, thin and thick, and her helmet wasn’t tracing her path as it should.

  A message flashed on her visor:

  Signal Acquired

  Deep Reach Verification

  TEAM: ALPHA SIX

  And then another replaced it:

  Designation: Team Leader

  Riley ‘Ace’ Orton

  Sarah slowed as her helmet’s speaker system crackled from an incoming communication.

  ‘Sa – is – I can’t—’

  She pressed a button on her helmet to boost the signal, but it had gone.

  ‘Riley?’ she whispered. How can it be? Her visor plotted a rough course to the source of the signal and she was running again, weaving through columns with the pain of hope in her heart.

  As she ran, the message appeared again, but slightly different:

  Signal Acquired

  Deep Reach Verification

  EXPIRED

  Followed by another:

  Designation: Team Leader

  Dresden ‘Torch’ Locke

  Sarah slowed as her visor showed a new source marker, and saw it was heading straight for the first. She gripped her knife and surged forward. Statues, tombs and columns flashed past and then she saw a light in the dark. She headed towards it before it blinked out and both signals on her visor vanished.

  Skidding to a stop, she scanned through different visual spectrums and saw the faint heat signature of a man through the mist, close to where the light had been. As she approached, the haze cleared and the image intensified. She switched back to the previous setting to see a person kneeling on the ground, their head bowed.

  Looking all around, she crept closer and the man looked up.

  ‘Sarah,’ Jefferson said, ‘is that you?’

  ‘Jefferson?’ she said, confused. ‘I saw Riley’s signal.’

  He gestured at a shape before him. ‘My helmet’s radio was damaged by the heat; I tried using Riley’s instead.’

  Sarah stared down at the body and she felt her legs go weak. She dropped to her knees and reached out a hand to touch Riley’s face.

  ‘I couldn’t leave him there alone,’ Jefferson said, his voice choking with emotion, ‘not like that.’

  Sarah’s world collapsed around her as reality returned with crushing finality.

  ‘Sarah,’ – Jefferson touched her hand – ‘what happened? Who did this?’

  ‘Locke,’ Sarah said, remembering the second signal. She turned round and stood up to scan the pitch-black.

  ‘Dresden?’ Jefferson said. ‘Dresden Locke did this?’

  ‘He doesn’t want anyone getting to the surface,’ she said, distracted. ‘We know too much.’

  Jefferson shook his head in disbelief. ‘But Riley was his favourite, his golden boy.’

  ‘Is it so hard to believe?’ She took a couple of steps into the dark, still searching for signs of the SED leader. ‘He was willing to put everyone at risk for years, he knew about those things – the lights – and said nothing. He says he’s protecting everyone, but all he’s protecting is his job – his legacy.’

  A noise to her left made her turn in its direction. She stared into the dark, eyes straining to see what might be there. Walking forwards, another sound made her spin back round. Thirty feet away, Trish and Jason emerged through the mists.

  Sarah felt relief sweep through her and she lowered her knife.

  ‘Sarah, thank God,’ Trish said, ‘we lost Goodwin in the mist.’ Her friend slowed and gasped when she saw Riley’s body.

  Jason knelt down to feel for a pulse. ‘Sarah, what happened?’

  ‘Locke killed him.’ Jefferson got to his feet and switched on his helmet’s torches.

  ‘The SED must go on,’ Sarah said, her voice bitter.

  ‘And go on it shall,’ said a voice from behind.

  Sarah spun round, but Locke smacked the knife from her hand and pressed his own blade to her throat.

  ‘Turn,’ he said, ‘slowly.’

  Sarah refused his command and glared into his hateful eyes with defiance.

  He grasped her shoulder and spun her round to face the others. ‘Give me the pendant,’ he said to Jason.

  Jason’s hand strayed to his coveralls, but Sarah shook her head. ‘Don’t give it to him.’

  Locke grabbed
the back of her neck and switched the position of the knife against her throat. ‘Give it to me,’ he said, drawing blood, ‘and I promise I won’t hurt her.’

  Jason withdrew the Anakim artefact. He looked at Trish and then back to Sarah.

  ‘Don’t listen to him,’ Sarah said, raising her chin as the blade cut deeper. ‘He has to kill us to make sure no one knows what he did.’

  Jason looked down at the pendant before launching it at Locke’s head.

  The SED commander moved on instinct and Sarah rammed her elbow into his midriff and slipped from his grasp as the pendant flew into the dark.

  Jefferson gave a roar of fury and ran at Locke, lifted him from his feet and smashed him into a stone column. Both men tumbled to the ground in a flail of arms and legs. A moment later Jefferson was on top and raining down blows with his massive fists.

  A flash of steel sliced through the air and Jefferson fell back, clutching his arm. Locke got to his feet and lashed out again with his blade, and Jefferson retreated.

  Sarah held out her hand to Jason. ‘Give me a knife!’

  ‘Say it,’ Jefferson said to Locke, ‘say you killed Riley.’

  Locke wiped blood from his face. ‘If you want someone to blame,’ – he gestured at Sarah – ‘blame her, she left me no choice.’

  Sarah searched around for her knife while Jason hunted in his backpack.

  Locke lunged forward and Jefferson parried the thrust with his forearm and landed a ferocious punch that sent Locke flying to the ground. The bloodied blade clattered onto stone and Jefferson bent to pick it up. Dazed, Locke struggled to his feet while the bearded archaeologist looked at Sarah, who gave him the nod of approval for what had to come next. Jefferson’s grip tightened on the knife and he grasped Locke’s harness and raised the blade in preparation for the killing blow.

  Sarah saw a shimmer of light emerge from the dark behind him and Trish screamed a warning. Jefferson spun round, but it was too late. The creature lifted him from his feet in a spray of blood. Locke scrambled away and Jefferson fell to the floor in a bloody mess.

  ‘Look out!’ Jason said.

  Another flash of light whooshed past and Sarah was thrown to the floor. Thirty feet away, Jefferson stared at her through the mist, his eyes full of terror, before he was dragged screaming into the dark.

  The other light vanished into the gloom, while a small figure emerged further back amongst the columns. It was Susan. The small woman stooped down and picked up something from the floor. Sarah switched on her helmet’s lights and the object glinted metallic in the dark.

  ‘The pendant,’ Trish said.

  Sarah turned as Locke stumbled away into swirling mists, and when she looked back Susan had gone, and along with her, their way out of Sanctuary.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  ‘Jesus wept,’ Jason said, unable to take his eyes off the gruesome blood trail that disappeared into the dark.

  Trish backed towards them. ‘Have they gone? Can anyone see them?’

  Still sitting where she’d fallen, Sarah looked around, but there was no further sign of the lights, Susan, or Dresden Locke.

  ‘What do we do now?’ Jason said.

  Sarah climbed to her feet and walked over to where a discarded Deep Reach helmet lay on the ground. She bent down and picked it up.

  ‘Is that Riley’s?’ Trish said.

  Jason turned to look and then frowned. ‘Where’s his body?’

  ‘They took it,’ Sarah said, feeling sick at the realisation.

  ‘What?’ Trish sounded hysterical. ‘Why? What do they want?’

  Sarah ran her finger over the white lettering which read: R. Orton and then looked up at her friends. ‘I don’t know, but I intend to find out. And Locke’s out there, somewhere, and he needs to pay for what he’s done.’

  ‘You really want to keep going,’ Jason said, ‘after what’s just happened?’

  ‘What choice do we have?’

  ‘I’d rather go up against bullets than face those … things,’ Trish said.

  Sarah saw the glint of metal on the floor, walked over and picked up her knife. ‘Then I’ll go alone.’

  Jason shook his head and looked at Trish. ‘We’ve come this far, we’re not splitting up now.’

  Trish gave a tremulous nod.

  ‘Then let’s go,’ Sarah said, and she moved off into the dark.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Colonel Samson sliced through the air once, twice, a thousand times, but every time he struck, the female assassin whirled away out of reach. Growing tired, he waited for her to come to him.

  As Zhang Bai circled back, Samson could see Hilt and Ophion fighting high above on the sphinx’s giant stairway. If I can get rid of this assassin, he thought, returning his attention to Zhang, nothing will stand between me and the pendant.

  The thought was all the motivation he needed and he gripped his sword tighter and waited for his chance.

  Zhang leapt to the attack and Samson raised his sword to parry as the blows rained in. The woman danced and weaved around him and her blade spun through the air faster and faster. He struck and missed, struck again, and then felt something pierce his side; he staggered back and looked up to see Zhang raise her visor. She smiled, victorious, and held up her sword, the blade glinting red with blood.

  Visions of torture filled Samson’s mind. He roared in rage and surged forward.

  Zhang deflected the initial barrage with ease, but her defence turned to desperation as Samson’s onslaught continued. She retreated, and he powered strikes down, again and again and again. Harder and harder he hacked, until her sword shattered in an explosion of sparks. She somersaulted away, but Samson anticipated the move and spun round with his sword extended. The thermal blade sliced through Zhang’s armour, leaving a gaping wound in her side. The assassin staggered, but didn’t fall; instead she managed to enter into a run towards the sphinx and Samson followed.

  Zhang discarded her broken blade and produced her rifle.

  Samson ducked as bullets whizzed past before her ammo ran dry and he was on her. Grasping her throat, he lifted her off her feet and plunged his sword through her chest. The assassin shuddered and the gun fell from her grasp.

  Samson stared into her visor. ‘Where’s your vengeance now, girl?’

  Zhang Bai raised her hand and Samson saw a grenade pin dangling from her index finger.

  A blast of energy exploded in a flash of light.

  Flung apart, Zhang slammed into the stairs and Samson arced into the air, before weightlessness passed and he crunched into the ground. Electricity flickered over his armour and he let out a groan.

  Trying to rise, Samson’s strength faded and he dropped back down as darkness took him.

  ♦

  Hilt ducked and parried as Ophion’s blades whirred through the air in a dazzle of light and shadow, but no matter how hard he tried, he was unable to breach the man’s defence and, step by inexorable step, he was driven back. As they passed the halfway point on the sphinx’s giant staircase, Ophion halted his attack and opened his visor. ‘You fight well for an uninitiated. It would have been interesting to see how you fared once fully trained.’

  Hilt didn’t respond, his armoured chest heaving from exertion.

  A detonation from below made Ophion take a step back. The assassin turned his head to look down at the distant forms of Samson and Zhang lying on the ground at the bottom of the stairway. He stayed thus for a moment and Hilt prepared to attack, but Ophion raised one of his swords and looked back at him. The assassin’s face hardened and he leapt forward.

  Their swords clashed as Ophion pressed ahead with renewed vigour. Hilt retreated as the speed of the assassin’s blades increased and increased again. Ophion feinted left and sent one of Hilt’s swords spinning into the dark. And moments later, a cutting thrust sent Hilt’s second blade clattering to the steps.

  Hilt swayed back as Ophion’s sword cut a molten gash across his chest armour. An instant later, two
blades came to a rest at his neck and Hilt gazed into the assassin’s ice cool eyes.

  ‘And so it ends,’ Ophion said

  Hilt’s face remained impassive as he waited for the killing thrust.

  ‘It is good you do not fear death,’ Ophion said, ‘we all must die with honour.’

  Hilt made to raise his hand, but Ophion increased his force and the blades melted into armoured panels.

  Heat seared Hilt’s skin and Ophion smiled. ‘You still seek to win?’ The assassin relieved some of the pressure. ‘Go ahead, show me … slowly.’

  With care, Hilt opened his hand.

  ‘Pretty,’ Ophion said, ‘and yet not an explosive. A gift perhaps?’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Hilt said, holding the shining blue crystal aloft, ‘but not for you.’

  A shimmering light appeared behind Ophion and a menacing growl changed the assassin’s expression to shock.

  The beast moved closer and Ophion’s eyes narrowed as he closed his visor. ‘So,’ he said, turning to face the creature, ‘we meet again.’

  With a deafening roar the Pharos leapt, Ophion vanished and Hilt ran.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Sarah walked through the dense mist inside the Anakim Sphinx. Towering pillars emerged through the dark, and Trish and Jason followed behind in silence.

  Five minutes had passed since Locke’s attack and there was still no sign of the SED commander or of the elusive Susan. Whatever was controlling the strange, mute woman, it had a plan, but what that was Sarah couldn’t guess. When the question had been posed to Goodwin he’d become uncertain as to why they’d been brought to this place, if indeed that was the case at all.

  Sarah felt the weight of the orb in her coveralls, which were concealed beneath the decontamination suit given to her by Goodwin. She reached down to press her hand against the artefact in reassurance. Goodwin had suggested the symbol on her pendant indicated she’d been brought to this place much like he had, drawn in by an unseen power that manipulated those under its thrall, a power far older than anything they could comprehend. Did these creatures – what had Locke called them? Pharos? – did these Pharos really lead us here? Have they been shepherding us through Sanctuary from the beginning? It was hard to believe, although, Sarah had seen Susan speaking to the orb as if it were alive and could hear her words.