CHAPTER 109
“David, wake up.”
David opened his eyes. He was still naked, lying in the same place he’d fallen asleep. He felt the bed beside him. Empty. Cold. Kate had been gone for hours.
“David.” Howard Keegan stood over him.
David sat up. “What is it? What time is it?”
His former mentor handed him a note. “It’s around 2am. We found this note in Kate’s room. She’s gone.”
David opened the note.
—————
Dear David,
Don’t hate me. I have to try to make a trade for the children. I know you’re attacking Immari Headquarters this morning. I hope you’re successful. I know what they’ve taken from you.
Good luck,
~ Kate
—————
David’s mind raced. Would Kate do this? Something felt wrong.
“We think she left several hours ago. Anyway, I thought you should know. I’m sorry, David.” Howard walked to the door.
“Wait.” David eyed him, thinking. What option did he have? “I know where she’s gone.”
Howard turned and looked at David skeptically.
“We were given a journal in Tibet.” David dressed as he spoke. “It contained a map of the tunnels below the Rock; there’s something down there, something they need.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t know. But I think she’s gone after it — to use it to trade. What’s our status?”
“Everyone’s suiting up. We’re almost ready for the assault.”
“I need to speak with them.”
Thirty minutes later, David was leading the final 23 Clocktower agents in the world through the tunnels under the Rock of Gibraltar. He had told the men that he had to go — that he had to find Kate — and that he might be delayed in joining the assault. His role was largely ceremonial anyway. His wounds, especially the leg wound, disqualified him from playing an active role in the assault. He would be at a desk watching the screens and readouts, coordinating the men during the operation.
His fellow agents had agreed unanimously: they would stay together, investigate the tunnels first, recover Kate, then resume the original plan. The boon from the chamber in the tunnels could offer some tactical advantage in the main operation.
They had anticipated little resistance at the warehouse, and they weren’t disappointed. The warehouses weren’t even guarded. Or locked, although they had been. The Clocktower team found a common combination lock, the kind used on high school lockers, laying on the ground, snapped in half. Clearly Kate’s work. Apparently Immari had abandoned the site a long time ago and regarded it as low-value. The lack of security still made David suspicious.
The entrance to the tunnels was just as the journal described it — and in almost the same condition. A black tarp had been thrown off the opening, and the lights leading into the mine were on. Inside the tunnels, there was one change: an electric car system, like a monorail tram with single cars, had been added to provide swift, safe transport through the tunnels. Each car held two passengers, and the team piled into about a dozen cars, with Howard and David riding in the first car. After the dizzying spiral down into the mine, the tunnel straightened and began forking. David hadn’t anticipated this — he had assumed the Immari would have closed any dead ends. The map in the journal was of the inside of the Atlantis structure; he had no idea which way to go at the forks. There was no choice; they began dividing their forces and unfortunately, the rail lines kept forking until David and Howard rode alone, hopefully on the right track.
The plan was to rendezvous at the entrance in one hour. That would still leave time for the pre-dawn raid at Immari Gibraltar.
David stared straight ahead as the tunnel’s lights flew by in an endless monotony. What was he missing? Howard worked the car’s controls, managing their speed. Somewhere, far off in the distance, three faint, rapid-fire pops rang out. David looked over at Howard, and they shared a knowing glance. Howard slowed the car and they waited for more sounds, hoping to discern the direction.
“We can reverse,” Howard said quietly.
They waited. The tunnels were quiet. What to do? The sound was clearly gunfire, but David wasn’t in fighting condition and Howard was in intelligence, but he was a manager, not a soldier. Neither could offer any real resistance. In fact, they would probably be in the way.
“No, we go on,” David said.
Five minutes later, they heard another bout of gunfire, but they didn’t stop. Five minutes after that, they reached the room that opened onto the Atlantis structure. The steps lay in the center of the room, fully uncovered. To the right was the jagged opening the journal had described. David could also see the rest of the structure, but it was mostly smooth dark metal. Massive iron I-beams reached high overhead, holding the rock and sea at bay.
David looked up, studying the area above the stairs. There was a huge dome and a place where the structure’s overhang had been cut away from above.
“What is it?” Howard said.
“This is where they extracted the Bell,” David said, almost to himself.
Howard walked to the stairs, put his foot on the first step and looked back at David.
Without a word, David hobbled forward, moving up the stairs, leaning heavily on his cane. As he grimaced and climbed, an overwhelming sense of déjà vu engulfed him. The tunnelmaker, Patrick Pierce, had also been lured down here under the guise of rescuing someone, only to be trapped himself. David crossed the threshold with Howard following closely. He stopped and studied his mentor’s eyes. Was he missing something? What could he do about it now?
Inside, the structure was illuminated with LED lights that ran along the floor and ceiling. The corridors were about eight feet tall — not cramped, but not exactly spacious. They also weren’t square. The bottoms and tops of the corridors curved slightly, giving it an oval shape, except the curves formed in sharper angles. Overall, the halls felt like the corridors of a ship — a Star Trek ship.
David led Howard down the corridors, following the mental image he had formed of the map. Memorizing maps and codes was one of the quintessential tools of trade craft, and David was good at it.
The structure was incredible. Many of the doors to the rooms were open, and as they passed by, David saw a series of make-shift labs, like something you might see behind the glass of a museum, where curators carefully studied or restored historical artifacts. Apparently the Immari had dissected every inch of the structure in the past 100 years.
It was surreal. David had only half-believed the tunnelmaker’s tale, had thought that perhaps it was just that — a tale. But here it was.
The false wall to the chamber was coming up — just around the next turn. As it came into view, David felt himself holding his breath. The chamber was… Open.
Kate. Was she inside?
“Kate,” David called out. There was nothing to lose. Anyone inside could hear his cane clacking on the metal floor from a mile away, so they didn’t exactly have the element of surprise.
No answer.
Howard formed up behind him.
David crept to the edge of the chamber’s opening and peered inside. The room looked like some sort of command center. A bridge, with chairs dotted along smooth surfaces — computers? Something more advanced?
David moved into the room as carefully as he could. He pivoted around, leaning on his cane, scanning every inch of the room. “She’s not here,” he said. “But the journal, the story was true.”
Howard stepped inside the room and hit a switch behind him. The door to the room hissed closed, sliding from right to left. “Oh yes, it’s quite true.”
David studied him. “You’ve read it?” David again wrapped his fingers around the gun tucked in his belt.
Howard’s face had changed. His usually mild expression was gone. He looked satisfied. Confident. “I’ve read it, yes. But just out of curiosity. I knew what it would say because I was there. I saw it first-hand. I hired Patrick Pierce to find this place. I’m Mallory Craig.”