The Mongol Objective (38 page)

And suddenly, she saw
into
it.

Into its depths that had become the past. She saw herself . . .

. . . lying on a slab-like table inside a white room. A pod. A decompression chamber. Unconscious, in a coma. Almost dead. George Waxman looking in on her with concern, and fear. . . . Another room. Darker, but more spacious. At the end of a long, shadowy hallway with non-descript walls and doors. A subterranean facility somewhere. Soldiers standing guard at the only entrance.

Inside. Strapped to a table. Monitors checking her vitals. IVs hooked to her day and night. Machines to keep her alive, extract her wastes, keep her warm, nourish her body, monitor her pulse, blood pressure, heartbeat . . .

Hers. And the two heartbeats inside of her.

She sees it now, suddenly with abject clarity. Something so undeniable.

Her belly, swollen under the sheet. Nine months from the accident under the Pharos. Nine months from the night with Caleb.

Nine months.

She blasted out of it, almost falling backwards, unable to gain her balance without her hands. Marco and another soldier caught her and held her in place.

“
Nina?”
asked the voice on the other end of the phone.
“Where did you go just then? Did you see something? Did you finally ask yourself the right question?”

Her mouth went dry.

Her vision slammed across the room, settling on Caleb. Then on Alexander.

She whispered something to herself, her eyes still wide in amazement. How could she have been so blind? Alexander’s visions of standing before the door. He, and two others . . .

“Caleb,” she said, louder. “I’m sorry.”

Caleb frowned, his mouth working. Glanced to Montross, whose eyes had widened.

He knows,
Nina thought. “You
knew
,” she said, to the voice on the phone, to Montross, to Caleb, and lastly to Alexander. “All this time, it was you. You, Alexander.” She let a smile free, took a deep breath and willed with it all the memories of their lives, memories she would soon be sharing, recapturing, enjoying as only a mother could.

“You,” she repeated, turning from Alexander to stare at Caleb, “and my twins. My boys.
Our
boys, Caleb. You have
three
sons.”

22.

Caleb watched in numb dislocation as Commander Marco handed the three necklaces to Alexander, and his son regally bowed his head, letting the stones settle low on his chest. The keys sparkled, vibrated and hummed.

He looked up at his father first, and immediately Caleb’s heart went out to him, but he was still in shock, glancing back at Nina. That one night in the Alexandrian hotel, before the initial descent under Pharos . . .

Twins.

They would be two years older than Alexander. Brothers. Psychics too, maybe more so since Nina also carried the trait.

All the time, it was Nina. She was the queen of the prophecy, the mother of legend. The one that ancient remote viewer had glimpsed.

And here was the youngest brother, turning toward the door. Holding out his hands.

“Alexander,” Caleb pleaded. He turned to Commander Marco. “We need to make sure this is right, that he can get in.”

“I can do it,” Alexander said quietly, staring at the door. He placed a hand on it, then cocked his head as if listening to a subtle heartbeat. He nodded, whispering something, then closed his eyes and clenched them tight.

“Alexander . . .” Caleb moved, but Nina stepped in his way.

“Don’t.” She turned to Marco. “Untie us please.”

“No way.”

She fixed him a deadly look. “Give me back the phone, then. I’ll get him to order you to do it. Or don’t you think your men can handle three unarmed prisoners?”

He debated the question for a moment, then nodded to one of his guards, who moved behind Nina and cut her bonds, then proceeded to release Caleb and Montross.

Rubbing his sore wrists, Caleb nodded his thanks to Nina. He was about to check on Alexander when his son backed up, hands raised, eyes wide open, a smile on his face.

The door began to rise.

#

He had seen it clearly. Beyond the wall, into the next chamber. As if he had just projected his mind through the door, just as Xavier Montross had been able to do. Except this time, he knew it was more than that.

In the darkness, Alexander could still see. Everything shimmered in violet hues, outlined in silvery-purple. He saw it clearly: the box-like chest against the far wall, between two pillars supporting the roof. Then, through some effort, he was able to will his mind-self to turn and view the door from the backside. And there, glowing brighter, almost golden-white, was a lever.

Without thinking, he reached for it and felt contact. Thrilled and invigorated, without a thought to logic or understanding, he muscled the lever up. It barely budged at first, as if resisting an unfamiliar hand, but then it clicked into a groove and rose effortlessly.

This is why I had those visions. This is what we—my brothers and I—can do!

The room shook, the colors on the onyx door pulsed and flashed, and as it ascended, he ducked and glided out of the room, slipping under the rising door like a contestant in a limbo contest.

Back in the main chamber, he saw his body and went to it, embracing himself and gasping for a breath.

#

Montross knew that timing at this point was everything.

He hoped Caleb and Alexander would catch on, and do what was needed. Maybe they already knew, maybe Caleb had seen, or maybe Alexander had, in whatever astral state he had just projected himself.

But quickly, Alexander was brought forward by Commander Marco, dragged into the room beyond the door, where the illumination from the floodlights spilled through and highlighted the plain-looking chest sitting alone between two nondescript pillars.

“That’s it?” Marco asked.

“Appearances are deceiving,” Nina replied, walking ahead until one of the soldiers, at a look from Marco, stepped in her path just before the open door.

“Not you,” he said.

Alexander turned around. He was alone with Marco, standing in the room before the pillars. “I want Dad. And Uncle Xavier. They need to be here.”

“No,” said Marco. “You do it. There’s the box. It’s got three keyholes in it. Put them in.”

“Uh-uh,” Alexander said, shaking his head. “What if all three of us need to do it at the same time?”

“Why should it matter?”

Alexander shook his head. “Are you crazy? Of course it matters. Dad?”

“He’s right,” Caleb said quietly. “I don’t know if it has to be all three brothers, but I’d be surprised if the keys didn’t need to be inserted simultaneously.”

“Like the keys to activate a missile launch aboard a nuclear sub,” Montross added.

Marco thought for a moment. “And if you only do one at a time?”

Alexander shrugged. “Most likely, you and I are toast.”

Taking a step back, Marco waved on Caleb and Montross. “All right, you two. Get in here and do it like he said. But no games. First hint of anything funny and I’ll cut you down.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Montross said, walking past the soldiers and giving Nina a wink.

Caleb followed, wide-eyed. “I still don’t know if this will work.”

“It’ll work,” Alexander said quickly, glancing sideways at his father. He took two of the necklaces off. “Remember our vault back in Sodus?”

Caleb approached the box, standing beside it with Montross. Alexander was in the middle, and Caleb was getting ready to touch the box first, to get some kind of psychic glimpse into its past, and hopefully see something about how to open it, and whether there were punishments for not following the prophecy. But then Alexander’s question stopped him.

“Our vault?”

“Yeah, Dad. Remember what would happen inside when the stand was touched?”

Caleb blinked at him, and Montross smiled, a shine in his eyes.

“Give them the keys,” Marco ordered, pointing the gun at Alexander. “No more talking. Insert the keys now and open the damn box.”

Nina said something from behind the guards, and she tried to push through, but they closed ranks, keeping her at bay.

Alexander knelt in front of the box, the non-descript yet ancient-looking chest. He met his father’s eyes, and then looked for Montross, but his uncle was already moving back, taking two steps to position himself closer to Marco.

“Alex—” Caleb started, but his son was already in motion. The keys still in his left hand, he reached out and slapped his palm hard against the box’s lid.

And the great onyx door rumbled, released—and then fell.

#

Nina yelled. The guards turned, then backed away, guns raised. She got a glimpse of Marco, spinning around in confusion, and then as the door descended she saw Montross shoving him hard from behind.

The commander tumbled, fell and slid on his stomach. He screamed, tried to roll once more, but the two-foot-wide door came crashing down on him, crunching through muscle and bone, flattening his pelvis, his ribcage and his skull in an instant. One leg on each side continued twitching as his arms flailed for a couple seconds, then lay still.

Nina ran to the door and pounded at it. Screaming, yelling, trying to send her voice to the other side.

But it was too thick to be heard.

But she did a hear a voice. Distant, questioning.

The satellite phone, still in Marco’s lifeless hand. She snatched it up, and before the dumbstruck guards could react, she grabbed the spare gun from Marco’s belt. In one quick motion she brought around her arm and fired twice, dropping both men with clean headshots. As they fell, she darted to the side of the entrance. Two more men came running down, guns drawn.

She shot them both.

Sensing there were more at the top of the stairs, she waited with her back to the wall, then put the phone to her ear.

“Hello, Calderon? Nina here again.”

“
Nina? What’s going on? Did Alexander open the box?”

“I don’t know that, sir. All I know is the door came down again. Caleb, Montross and the boy are all trapped inside.”

“
Damn! And Marco?”

“Crushed.”

“
What was that shooting?”

“Just me. Cleaning up.” She peeked around the corner and saw a black helmet duck out of sight at the top of the stairs.

“
Nina, be reasonable. Wait there. I need to come to you now.”

“I know that.”

“
With your boys.”

“Of course. Someone needs to get that door open again. And fast. I’m surprised you didn’t bring them here for the opening.” It had been bothering her for the past few minutes. “Why not?”

“
Because they were needed here. Because there’s something else that they need to find first.”

“And have they found it?”

“
Not yet. We’re having some difficulty. I know it’s here, but . . . Well, perhaps we can try later with Alexander’s help. We’re coming now. Give this phone to one of the other soldiers, and then you can stop killing people. I’ll tell them you’re in charge now. Guard the door until we arrive.”

“But Alexander, and his father—”

“
They’re not going anywhere.”

“I’m not so sure. I remember Montross speaking of an underground complex, a labyrinth built ages ago, before the pyramids even.”

“
I doubt that.”
He didn’t sound sincere.
“But even if you’re right, they can’t hide from us.”

Nina paused. “What do you plan to do with the contents of the box?” She had never gotten an answer out of Montross, what he would do with it. Only that it was vital to his survival. That, and the fact that she owed him her life was all she required. But now the stakes had changed. She had children. Two boys. Kept from her for more than ten years. So much missed time. Despite her deeds of late, despite who she was, this changed everything. “I want to know.”

“
When the time is right, I’ll tell you. For now, if you want to see your children, do as I say. We’ll be there soon.”

“Wait! What is at the Statue of Liberty? What are you looking for?”

“
See you soon, Nina. Now, give me to one of the men.”

She glared at the phone, then yelled up the stairs, “Hold your fire!” She stepped into the hall, hands raised, and let the men rush down to her, weapons drawn. She handed one of them the phone, and then turned and regarded the silent, black and unyielding door.

22.

“So now we’re trapped,” Alexander said, looking about the room. In the dark, Montross had managed to find a flashlight on Marco’s right side, clipped to his utility belt. It was small, but more than sufficient to probe the room’s meager dimensions.

“No,” said Caleb, taking the light from Montross and aiming it into the far left corner. “I saw something in my last vision. When this room was designed and furnished. The man, almost familiar, in a blue robe, with a staff as he ordered the box sealed. There’s another exit.”

“It can wait,” said Montross.

“What?”

“They’re not getting back in here any time soon. So we have time. Time to open this box, time to get the books inside. Time to talk.” The light hit his face and he squinted, turning away.

“Yes. Let’s talk.”

“Talk about what?” Alexander asked. “How we’re going to get out of here?”

“No,” Caleb replied. “We need to talk about what Montross has seen, and what I saw. Compare our versions. And I need to understand how much is fact, and what’s merely imagination playing with myth.”

“Can’t it all be fact?” Montross asked.

Caleb held his head, then massaged his temples. “I don’t know if I can believe what I’ve seen. It’s too much to contemplate.”

“Well, let’s start with what we know to be true.”

Caleb aimed the light down at their feet. He took slow breaths, not knowing if the air down here was circulating somehow. It tasted stale, but yet still pure as if its isolation through the millennia had protected it from outside contamination. “So here’s what I know. Robert Gregory believed the Emerald Tablet possessed the power of the universe: a concept similar to the
Enuma Elish
, the Babylonian Epic of Creation. We know he somehow allied himself with the cult of Marduk, whose members seem bent on reacquiring what the god Anu took from Marduk and delivered to Enki, better known as Thoth, for safekeeping, thousands of years ago.”