Ancient Origins: Books 4 - 6 (Ancient Origins Boxset Book 2)
Page 72
Sarah returned her attention to Avery, the Irishman’s amiable expression at rest, the corner of his mouth curled into a half-smile as if he enjoyed a joke within his dreams. He no longer wore the red cassock of a cardinal, but had reverted to the plain black robe she’d first seen him wearing. From the moment she’d met him her distrust of religion had set alarm bells ringing in her head, but as time had gone on, she’d realised he was not the one she had to keep her eye on. She glanced back across to Zinetti, who had also forgone his red attire, although instead of a black cassock he wore a more practical pair of jeans with a dark blue shirt. He turned in her direction and they locked eyes for a moment, the mutual distrust between them as plain as the nose on his untrustworthy face.
Zinetti, almost fifteen years Avery’s junior, brushed back his jet-black hair and turned his head to look back out of the window.
Sarah followed the Italian’s gaze and caught sight of an unknown mountain range shrouded in cloud.
An alarm beeped on her wristwatch. She dragged her gaze away from the view outside and onto the timepiece, which had been a gift from Avery before they’d left.
She switched it off, got up, made her way to the back of the plane and entered the cramped lavatory. She put down her leather pouch and unfurled it to reveal a large syringe and a number of vials, all containing the same bright blue liquid. She held out her hand, which trembled. She clenched her fist and opened her hand again. The trembling remained and she knew without medication the shaking would increase, and it would only be a matter of time after that the fits would start. It hadn’t been the first time she’d experienced a seizure like she’d had in the Vatican archives. After Dagmar had got what he wanted from her – the Anakim pendant and her knowledge of it – she had suffered numerous such attacks. Some had left her crippled in pain for days afterwards and she had often been left for hours without any medical attention, as her captors found her suffering helpful to their research.
After her escape, Sarah had been hoping she’d improve, but now she knew the drugs they’d been giving her hadn’t induced the fits, but prevented them. She’d been permanently altered, and not for the better. It was a difficult pill to swallow.
She looked down at the long needle and wished a tablet was all she needed to take in order to keep functioning.
Of course, she knew her deteriorating condition was also down to the Anakim device she’d activated in Sanctuary. She looked at the marks on the palms of her hands, the dark circular welts mirroring those on her feet.
Unable to put off the inevitable, Sarah prepared her dosage as per the instructions Avery had given her, the cardinal happy for her to self-medicate, despite the doctor saying otherwise. At least she had something to be grateful for.
She flicked the barrel of the syringe to get rid of air bubbles. She then depressed the plunger a fraction and a fine jet of the drug sprayed into the sink. Satisfied she was ready, she rolled up her sleeve and clenched her fist a few times. She was lucky; she’d always had prominent veins. Lucky! She snorted at the concept and then slid the needle into her arm and delivered the dose. The blue fluid disappeared into her body and moments later she felt a rush of adrenaline as the drug took effect.
Feeling giddy, she sat down on the lavatory seat and closed her eyes. If she’d known it was going to feel this good she would have taken it earlier.
The drone of the aircraft lulled her to sleep and it wasn’t until someone banged on the door that she awoke with a start.
Wondering how long she’d been out for, Sarah quickly collected her things and emerged from the loo, avoiding the gaze of a bemused flight attendant, before stumbling back down the aisle towards her seat.
The plane rocked and rolled beneath her feet and Sarah had difficulty keeping her balance, but after a few false starts, she managed to make it back to safety and sat down. However, despite her respite, the plane and everything in it continued to spin around her and a sense of elation surged through her body. After a few more moments, the sensations faded, but a feeling of well-being remained. She held out her hand. There was no sign of the tremors and the building sensation of dread, which usually accompanied their onset, had also gone. She relaxed back into her seat, feeling content. She was on her way to see her friends, she was free, and the best thing of all, she was at peace. What more could anyone ask for? She closed her eyes as the jet aircraft continued its journey above the endless terrain of the Eurasian landmass. The Anakim dig site at the City of Giants awaited, and Sarah was on her way, ready, willing and raring to go. The pouch containing the drugs lay on the seat next to her and she reached out and drew it onto her lap, as she slid back into the arms of sleep, her last thoughts of hidden treasures and lost dreams.
♦
Cardinal Zinetti looked over at Sarah Morgan and the drug kit clasped in her hands. She looked in good health, but he still questioned her involvement regardless of the precautions taken. As he watched Morgan fall deeper into her slumber, Avery Cantrell got up and draped a blanket over her sleeping form. The Irishman gazed at the archaeologist with a fatherly expression, until he caught Zinetti looking at him and his expression hardened. Zinetti held Avery’s gaze for a moment, before looking away. It’s not time to challenge him yet, Zinetti thought, his heart beating faster, but my time will come. He looked back out of the window at the misty mountains. It is my destiny.
Chapter One Hundred Thirty-Three
The sun’s rays consumed the arid landscape of the Gobi Desert, as Sarah’s plane made its descent to the Mongolian capital city of Ulan Bator. The plane banked left as it lined up for its final approach, allowing Sarah a glimpse of the barren wasteland below. A sea of sand dunes extended into the distance as far as the eye could see, the arid basin a world away from the sprawling city of Rome and the Vatican City State enclosed within. Beyond the desolate beauty of this unforgiving terrain the Mongolian grasslands merged with the fabled steppes, and the Altai Mountains in the north, their distant peaks a forbidding presence on the horizon. Sarah couldn’t help but wonder what treasures they held, while at the same time plotting her escape. If the Vatican sought to control her, they could have done better than helping her back to tip-top health. She’d never felt so energised.
Ten minutes later the aircraft touched down, and Sarah emerged from the main hatch into an icy wind. So much for appearances, she thought, having expected searing heat.
She followed Avery down the steps and onto the runway, her thin blouse doing little to ward off the chill. A dilapidated bus arrived soon after and the party of thirty-four stowed their luggage and boarded in double quick time. They were then driven to a large hangar away from the main terminal building.
‘We’re not checking in?’ Sarah said.
Avery shook his head. ‘We’ve got special dispensation, customs are aware.’
Sarah nodded, but couldn’t help but wonder how the Vatican had so easily bypassed GMRC controls. It was unheard of, although Sarah was secretly relieved, as she had no passport to speak of and had been worrying about it the whole flight, despite Avery previously telling her not to.
As soon as they were off the bus the vehicle drove away, leaving them outside the dark entrance to the unlit aircraft hangar. Sarah shivered in the cold, until Avery once more came to her rescue by giving her his thick overcoat, the fleece interior fighting off the swirling winds.
Nearby, Ruben pushed back the cowl of his shabby monk’s habit and pointed into the distance.
Everyone turned to look.
Sarah squinted against the glare of the setting sun, but could only make out a small dust cloud in the haze. Moments passed before she realised what was causing it: a fast-moving convoy of vehicles.
The dust cloud grew closer and the motorcade entered a disused section of the airport and then headed straight for the Vatican expedition.
Ten black SUVs broke formation as they slowed to a stop, twenty feet away. Doors opened and closed, and a host of black-clad soldiers got out and approached A
very, Zinetti and Ruben, who had moved forward to greet them.
The man at the head of the new arrivals bowed low and then kissed the ring on Avery’s outstretched hand, before repeating the gesture with Zinetti.
More Swiss guards, Sarah thought.
‘Your eminences,’ he said, ‘you’re early.’
‘Major Lanter,’ Avery said, and surveyed the new arrivals. ‘Where is the team?’
Major Lanter turned and signalled to one of the SUVs, which had parked further away, alongside two other vehicles.
More doors opened and slammed closed as a ragtag group of individuals emerged into the fading light.
The newcomers strode through the ranks of soldiers with an arrogant swagger, their attire a mixture between unaffiliated mercenaries and big game hunters, the eclectic mix of sidearms, rifles and knives on display a clear indicator they expected trouble wherever they went. Sarah had seen their like before, many times. Known as explorers for hire by some, tomb raiders by others, and armed thugs by everyone else, she’d never seen them in action, but she’d heard the stories. That they were working for the Vatican surprised her, but Avery did say they were brought in as a last resort. She just hoped he knew what he was doing, as they sure as hell wouldn’t.
Sarah waited for two more people to emerge, but she was to be disappointed. Everyone made their way into the hangar, but Trish and Jason were nowhere to be seen.
Avery, noticing her confusion, hung back to speak to her.
‘You said I’d be able to see them as soon as I arrived,’ she said. ‘Where are they?’
‘They’ve been held up,’ Avery said, ‘and we’re ahead of schedule, but they’ll be here.’
Sarah’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.
‘Come, Sarah,’ Avery said, ‘do you think I’d bring you all this way only to go back on my word the first chance I got?’
‘It had crossed my mind.’
‘Then you’re doing me a disservice. I am a man of my word and I’m hardly going to alienate you before we’ve even had a chance at exploring the dig site, now, am I?’
Sarah considered him for a moment and then shook her head. ‘No, I suppose not.’
He held out his arm and shepherded her inside the hangar, and some of the vehicles were driven in behind them.
Two soldiers slid closed the massive doors, and the headlights on the SUVs blazed forth to illuminate the murky interior.
Large black suitcases and holdalls were dumped onto two rows of desks positioned at the centre of the building, and the soldier in charge, Major Lanter, clapped his hands together to get everyone’s attention.
‘Listen up, people,’ he said. ‘Word has it a storm front’s coming in. For those of you that don’t already know, this whole area is known for its rapid changes in weather. It can be zero Celsius, thirty-two Fahrenheit, during the day and forty degrees below at night.’
A soldier raised his hand. ‘Sir, forty degrees Fahrenheit, or Celsius?’
One of the explorers laughed. ‘They’re the same thing, dumb ass.’ The woman high-fived a male colleague, while her other companions made jokes at the soldier’s expense.
‘Minus forty is the same on both scales,’ Lanter told his subordinate.
The Vatican soldier looked suitably embarrassed and the major gave a shake of his head in disappointment before continuing, ‘The plateau we’re heading to is no exception. And considering seasonal weather patterns are still up in the air from the twenty-forty meteor strike, record temperatures aren’t out of the question. It’s going to be cold and high winds mean the helicopter is grounded. We’re going to have to climb up to the site from the previous expedition’s base camp, so no free rides.’
A collective groan came from those assembled.
‘Suck it up,’ Lanter said. ‘This isn’t a holiday, and as many of you know, we’re on a tight schedule,’ – he glanced at Avery – ‘so we can’t afford to hang around. We get up there,’ – he pointed to the group of armed explorers – ‘you do your thing and we get out, understand?’
‘Sure thing G.I. Joe,’ said the woman who’d spoken before, an Australian by the sound of her accent.
‘When do we get the rest of our money?’ said another man.
Avery moved forward. ‘When you find what we’re after.’
‘Agartha,’ the man said. ‘The mythical lost city at the centre of the Earth. You expect us to find something that might not even exist?’
‘Finding Agartha’s location, or any clue as to its whereabouts, will suffice,’ Avery said.
‘Why do I get the impression you’re not telling us something, old man,’ the woman said.
‘That’s Cardinal Cantrell,’ Lanter said, intervening, ‘show some respect.’
Avery held up his hand to calm the situation. ‘You know what you need to know, Ms Chen,’ he said, ‘and no more. You’re all being paid handsomely for your time, so we expect your cooperation, if not your trust.’
‘Just stick to your side of the bargain,’ Chen said, ‘and we’ll find what you want.’
‘If conditions are as bad as you say,’ said Chen’s companion, ‘it’s going to take longer.’
‘Then it’s just as well you’ll have help.’ Avery motioned Sarah forward and she walked to his side and turned to face the assembled men and women.
‘Who’s this?’ Chen said. ‘This team’s already got one leader,’ – she pointed at herself – ‘me. We don’t need no shaven Barbie’s help.’
Sarah ran her hand through her short blonde hair, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
‘Miss Morgan is the foremost authority on the lost race we’ve discovered,’ Avery said, ‘and she’s more than capable of holding her own. Besides which, she’s a qualified and highly respected archaeologist, so you’ll do well to take her lead.’
Chen, a dark-haired beauty of Japanese heritage, sauntered forward to look Sarah up and down, her manner reminding Sarah of a woman she’d once known in Sanctuary.
‘She looks like a scared rabbit to me,’ Chen said, looking into Sarah’s eyes. She reached out and caressed her face. Sarah slapped away her hand and a few of the men catcalled in response.
Chen laughed. ‘Keep your rabbit close, Cardinal, like you and your friend,’ – she pointed to Cardinal Zinetti – ‘she’ll do well to keep up when we hit the cliffs.’
Sarah held Chen’s gaze. She has no idea who you are, Sarah thought to herself. She has no idea what you’re capable of. Sarah wanted to tell this woman she was probably the best climber and explorer there. She wanted to tell her about Sanctuary, about Deep Reach, about what she’d seen and where she’d been. But instead, she said nothing. She didn’t even know if she still had it in her. The effect of the drugs she’d taken some hours before were already wearing off, and she was feeling like her old self: tired and disconsolate. Chen might be right, Sarah thought, I could slip and fall to my death. Part of her even wondered if that might not be so bad. What use am I, God? she thought. What good am I? I have no children, I have no life. I’m broken inside. What good am I to you?
As usual, God didn’t reply, and Sarah caught sight of Ruben studying her, the monk’s face shrouded in shadow, the gleam of his eyes visible in the glare of the SUVs’ headlights.
With the introductions – such as they were – over with, everyone geared up for the challenge ahead.
A storm was coming and night was closing in.
It sounded like the story of Sarah’s life.
Chapter One Hundred Thirty-Four
Two hours after Sarah’s arrival at Mongolia’s capital city, the Vatican’s expedition was ready for the off. Mia Chen-Takei, or just Chen, as everyone called her, had whipped her explorers into shape, the disreputable group now kitted out with thermal clothing suitable for the anticipated arctic-like conditions that awaited them.
Despite Chen’s animosity towards Sarah, she’d provided her with similar attire, although Sarah remained very much isolated from everyone else around her.
Sarah wondered if their armoured suits had internal heating, while at the same time being concerned that they deemed such formidable protection necessary. It reminded her of the combat systems she’d seen Terra Force and Darklight using back in Sanctuary, replete with scary looking helmets. But, unlike those used in Sanctuary, the Swiss guards’ helms were more ornate. The helmets had similar eye-like sculpting around sophisticated visors, but instead of a smooth armoured panel, a small brim formed a peak at the front and back, while a three-inch crest ran over the crown. The design, Sarah realised, was a representation of the ceremonial armour worn by the guard back in Vatican City.
The soldiers’ dark red helmets also sported a coat of arms, which had been embossed on either side:
Knowing a little about Catholic history, Sarah knew the coat of arms belonged to Pope Julius the second, the founding father of the Pontifical Swiss Guard over five hundred years before. Julius was often referred to as the Warrior Pope, which she thought an apt association, considering the guards were one of the world’s oldest military units.
Two of the fearsome warriors, bedecked in their finery, strode past carrying state-of-the-art rifles. One looked in Sarah’s direction, his visor glowing red from its head-up-display.
Sarah shuddered as memories came flooding back of a man who’d once hunted her, the unstoppable Colonel Samson.
The Catholic soldier nodded to her as he passed, and Sarah couldn’t help noticing the gold cross embedded into the centre of his helmet, just above the visor. The same design was replicated throughout the Swiss Guard, along with a large golden cross on their armour’s breastplate.