2040 Revelations (42 page)

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Authors: Robert Storey

BOOK: 2040 Revelations
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‘Duly noted, Commander.’

Goodwin spoke to the U.S. Army decontamination team himself, thinking a civilian presented a less intimidating front. Unfortunately his GMRC position didn’t hold much weight here and the soldiers clammed up and revealed nothing but their name, rank and service number. He couldn’t really blame them since the Darklight contractors represented a hostile force.

‘Any other ideas?’ Goodwin asked the commander after he came back empty handed.

‘We explore the other three tunnels and assess their value for improving the success of our objective.’

Simple but effective, Goodwin liked the plan and the recon team had soon split into three units to recce the three other tunnels. But, as the minutes passed, a growing sense of unease worked its way to the forefront of Goodwin’s mind.
What if we’re caught in here by Sanctuary’s military?
he thought.
We’d be sitting ducks. And would they stop at detaining and ejecting us, or see us as a hostile threat to be eliminated on sight?
Just as Goodwin decided to tell Hilt to call back his men, a team returned reporting the way ahead was blocked due to a recent cave-in.

The second unit took a little longer to come back, arriving some time after the first.

‘There’s another elevator shaft down there, sir,’ an officer said. ‘It doesn’t appear to have been in use for quite a while. I doubt it’s even operational.’

‘And there’s no way past it?’ Hilt asked him.

‘No, sir.’

Disappointed, they waited for the final group.

Another five minutes ticked by before the commander’s radio crackled into life. ‘Commander, we passed a few side tunnels and we’ve now entered a section which appears to be a naturally occurring cave formation. It’s large and extensive. Some ways are blocked due to fallen boulders and rock. We haven’t been able to locate an end to it yet.’

‘Copy that, Recon Three. Have you seen any entrances into the base itself?’

‘No, sir, although we are feeling a draught coming through the caves. There must be an air generation plant or circulation system further on.’

‘Copy that,’ Hilt said, and then looked at Goodwin. ‘What do you think?’

‘Sounds better than here.’

Hilt nodded and got back on the radio. ‘Okay, stay put, Recon Three, we’re following you in.’

‘Copy, Commander; out,’ Hilt’s radio said, crackling due to interference caused by the tunnels.

Another half an hour passed and they had all reached the caves, the system sloping ever downwards. Goodwin had expected them to find something soon after that, but sixty more minutes came and went and still they hadn’t reached an entrance to the base or seen any sign of human habitation.

Hilt called a halt to the group’s advance.

‘We’re not getting anywhere fast,’ he said to Goodwin.

‘Shall we go back?’

‘It’s certainly an option. I thought we’d have exited into the base chamber system by now, but these caves, do they look odd to you?’

Goodwin glanced up at the distant ceiling, its rocky surface glinting in their torchlight. ‘How do you mean?’

‘I thought they were natural, but they seem too uniform. I don’t remember seeing anything like this in Steadfast, or any other base I’ve been to for that matter.’

A deep rumbling noise made everyone pause, and then a powerful tremor ripped through the rocks under their feet.

‘Earthquake!’ someone shouted.

People screamed and ran in all directions as terror gripped them. The ground shook harder, dislodging chunks of rock which dropped from the ceiling high above to smash and shatter in clouds of debris. Unable to keep his feet, Goodwin dropped to one knee and held onto the floor with one hand while the other protected his head. A primeval fear of being buried alive consumed his mind as stone and dust cascaded down around him in a reverberating blur. The tremors continued for what seemed an eternity and then they petered out, their power waning until … finally … they stopped altogether.

The cries and moans of the injured filled the ensuing silence and Goodwin clambered to his feet, as many others did likewise.

After minutes of upheaval and organised chaos, Goodwin managed to ascertain that fifty-five people had been hurt during the incident, although miraculously no one had received serious injury.

But just when he thought things were settling down again an aftershock rippled through the bedrock. It was much weaker than the main quake, but it still sent people scattering for safety, and as Goodwin was wondering what else might go wrong, Hilt provided him with the disturbing answer.

‘Are you sure?’ he asked the commander, moving to one side so they couldn’t be overheard.

‘Quite sure; my team has surveyed the whole area to the rear and there is no mistake – the tunnel has collapsed behind us. We’re trapped down here.’

Goodwin let out a string of expletives while the Darklight officer looked on, his impassive demeanour unchanged.

‘Can we dig our way out?’ Goodwin said, after regaining his composure.

‘Not according to the report; the boulders are too large, even with the manpower we have available. I’ll double check, but my operatives are very thorough.’

‘Well, we’ll just have to pray that this cave leads somewhere, then.’

‘Indeed. There is one other option: we could use charges to break up the boulders, although that might well prove even more catastrophic and bring down the rest of the roof on us.’

‘I think we’ll leave that as a last resort,’ Goodwin said.

Hilt gave a solemn nod.

With the unwelcome excitement over, the shaken company gathered together and began its slow march once more, the Darklight reconnaissance teams as ever in the lead as they travelled deeper and deeper into the depths of the Earth.

 

Chapter Twenty Four

 

The Hostel Mexico DF was a picturesque little place right near Mexico City Airport. The accommodation was cheap, but it had the big advantage of being off the grid. And since Sarah wanted to stay under the radar of any nefarious organisations, it was an ideal stop-off while she sought to determine the final destination on their Mayan map with the help of the elusive friend of Yochi Cayut, one Victor Fernandez.

Before they could do anything, though, they needed supplies, and this time Jason stayed at their base of operations while Sarah and Trish went on a shopping expedition. They were looking for batteries and more powerful hand torches to aid in future site searches; the dust cloud’s arrival had changed the game and they had to adapt. They also needed warmer clothing; ambient temperatures had shot down as the predicted impact winter flexed its considerable muscles.

As Sarah and Trish traipsed through the city’s dark and near deserted streets, it became clear the lack of usual daytime activity gave the metropolis a sinister air. Many people had obviously decided to stay indoors rather than venture out or go to work as the endless night brought with it a sense of foreboding and a tangible undercurrent of fear and tension. This widespread agoraphobia, however, was proving a boon to Sarah and Trish as the goods they sought were in plentiful supply. But give it a day or so and the panic buying would commence when people realised the new must-haves were thick jumpers, coats and personal torches.

Having kept a low profile and acting with haste, the two women soon arrived back at the hostel with bulging bags. They already sported new puffer coats, although Jason wasn’t overly taken with Trish’s choice of outer garment.

‘Pink, really?’ he said with incredulity.

‘You like?’ Trish did a little twirl for him.

‘Not especially; you look like a tumble-dried flamingo.’

‘Well, I like it, and you shouldn’t complain, I’ve got you one in the same colour.’

He snorted. ‘You better not have.’

‘And matching gloves and hat,’ Sarah said.

‘You’ll be pretty in pink,’ Trish said, laughing, as Jason gave her the finger.

After they’d dispersed all their wares and presented Jason with his non-pink garments, he showed them the profile and picture of Victor Fernandez he’d found on the net. Sarah then transferred the data to her computer and donned a thick, woolly bobble hat.

‘Very sexy,’ Jason said, as she adjusted its position.

‘I’m going for the blonde Scandinavian look,’ she said, grinning.

Leaving Trish and Jason in the relative warmth of their room, Sarah headed out, the metal Mayan tablet and its map inscription weighing her down as it nestled in her back pack.

Victor Fernandez, a philologist and the man Sarah now sought, studied ancient languages, and one of his main duties was to ascertain the meaning of records and texts as they were designated by their creators. As his friend, Yochi Cayut, had told them, he was the perfect person to help them translate – and thus find – the final location on the Mayan map.

Sarah looked at her computer. The Museo Nacional de Antropología was located on the west side of the city in the Bosque de Chapultepec, the largest park in the western hemisphere.

Taking the Mexico City Metro Linea 1, she soon reached Chapultepec Station. The National Museum of Anthropology was a kilometre’s walk through the floodlit park and her long strides quickly ate up the ground. She had always wanted to visit this museum to see the wonderful and mystical treasures it contained, such as the magnificent Stone of the Sun, Mayan murals, Aztec codices and many other wonders from Mesoamerica, including those of the ancient Olmec civilisation. Sadly, on this occasion she wouldn’t get the chance to enjoy it.

Emerging from an avenue lined with trees, she was relieved to see the museum had its doors open to visitors, which made her job a lot easier as gaining access to the building was a simple case of walking through the entrance.

Knowing the academic offices would be off limits to the public, and that the Department of Linguistics would be no exception, she tracked down a comprehensive map of the building, pinpointed where she needed to go and headed off in the appropriate direction.

Since she didn’t want to attract any attention, Sarah kept her hat on to ensure her blonde locks remained hidden. But as she passed through the various exhibits, she was acutely aware of the museum’s handful of visitors and staff when they looked in her direction. Considering what Yochi had told them back in Guatemala about Victor’s lack of contact since they had found the mysterious tablets under the Pyramid of the Sun in Teotihuacán, this was not surprising. Couple this with her own experiences and she felt extremely exposed.

Catching a couple of elevators and an escalator, she caught sight of a sign which read
Departamento de Lingüístic
. Following the arrow down a darkened corridor, she passed a few doors with varying plaques on them but not the one she wanted. Finally, the last on the right had Victor Fernandez’s name on it. No lights shone inside, but she knocked anyway. No answer.
Surprise surprise
, she thought to herself. She tried the handle.
Unlocked, result!
Opening the door, she felt about for a light switch on either side of the opening. Finding one, she flicked it on. Light panels buzzed to life overhead and she was greeted with a nice tidy room, far too neat and tidy for an academic. No folders or paperwork of any kind broke up the clean lines of the furniture and shelving. Approaching the desk, no computer workstation was revealed, just some disconnected cables, and drawers devoid of anything of note.

The place had been picked clean – only a few books remained; her paranoia taking hold, Sarah left quickly, feeling more furtive than ever.
What to do, what to do?
she thought to herself as she paced around aimlessly at the other end of the hallway. She needed to find this man but she couldn’t risk asking for anyone else’s help as she’d have no idea who they were or who else they might tip off. If
they
tracked her down, then she, Trish and Jason could lose all their precious artefacts. No, it was far too big a risk to take with so much at stake.

But just when she had decided to give up she spotted another sign on the wall:
Departamento de Personal
. A personnel office kept employee records, including home addresses.
Sod it, it’s worth a shot
, she thought and she strode off again with purpose.

Arriving at Human Resources, Sarah saw these offices were also unlit. However, the door this time had been securely locked.
This part of the building is pretty deserted
, she reasoned, and taking a look around the adjoining corridors confirmed her assumption. Returning to the office door, she tested it again and then took a step back and kicked out hard with the heel of her foot. It caught the door right next to the lock, splintering the wood and crashing it open with a loud BANG! She froze for a second, wondering about her own sanity, and then dived inside and closed the door behind her. Her heart thumped hard in her chest as she switched on the lighting. This office was well used; on the many desks that lined the walls paperwork had been piled high and filed in numerous trays. Cabinets off to her left drew her attention and she went straight to the first and pulled it open. It was full of various documents, none of which seemed useful. Shutting it, she decided to use her brain and check the tags on the outside of each of the drawers. They were in Spanish but she knew enough to get by.

Scanning through them she caught sight of a few with the same title:
Registros de los Empleados
. She didn’t know the Spanish term, but it was close enough to English to decipher – Records of the Employees. Selecting the A – F range she tugged at the drawer. It didn’t open and she muttered a curse.

Reasoning that since she’d already come this far she might as well go the whole way, she searched about for a tool. A free-standing coat rack by the door caught her eye. The top of the chrome armature was chamfered to a chiselled edge. Picking it up, she rotated it and advanced on the cabinet. Raising her arms high, she rammed the end into the top of the drawer and then, using her full weight, levered it forwards. Something cracked and gave way and the drawer slid open, revealing the files inside.

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