Temple of the Gods

  ‘It’s not rocket surgery! Just turn it and see what happens!’

  There was a periscope lens above and to the right of the controls; she peered into it, seeing the view ahead. The M60 was thundering straight at the first truck. She hesitantly turned the yoke a little. With a skirl of hydraulics, the turret turned in response. A vertical twist of the handgrips and the main gun rose, the view through the periscope also tilting upwards.

  She swung the turret back to its original position – to find the truck looming in her sights. ‘Hold on!’ Eddie shouted.

  The M60 slammed into the truck’s front quarter. It was shoved sideways until it hit its neighbour – and the tank then rode up over it, crushing it flat. The second truck suffered the same fate, glass exploding everywhere as steel tracks chewed through its cab.

  Eddie turned the yoke back to the left. The M60 lurched around as if grinding the remains of the trucks beneath a treaded heel, then advanced on the first of the Humvees. There were two rows of the big 4×4s, too widely spaced for the M60 to squash them all in one go; Nina braced herself, rotating the turret and lowering the main gun to hit the second line.

  The Humvees were smaller than the trucks, but the ride over them was no less bumpy, throwing Eddie and Nina about in their seats. The back ends of the leading row were flattened into scrap. Those in the second line fared little better, the M60’s gun barrel slicing into their engine compartments and tearing off wheels.

  Eddie turned the tank again to demolish one last truck, then swung it back towards the giant hangar doors. There were other guards ahead, but they were already scurrying for safety. The way out was now clear. The M60 was at its full speed of thirty miles per hour: hardly blistering performance, but with so much weight behind it the armoured vehicle was almost unstoppable. He kept his foot down, glancing at the fuel gauge.

  It was practically on empty. Whatever happened, the tank wouldn’t take them much further than the end of the valley outside – if it even got that far.

  That would leave them on foot, in the desert . . . not far from Groom Lake, one of the most heavily patrolled and jealously protected military facilities in the United States, if not the world. They were still a long way from being safe.

  Before they could worry about that, though, they still had to get out of Silent Peak itself. Nina looked through her periscope. ‘Can this thing break through that door?’

  ‘It weighs over fifty tons – I don’t think it’ll be a problem. But hang on anyway. There’ll be a bit of a bump.’

  ‘My husband, master of understatement,’ Nina said. Eddie grinned and psyched himself up for the looming impact. The M60 barrelled straight at the towering doors, a metal wall filling his narrow field of vision—

  The gun punched through the steel as if it were paper – but the rest of the tank had a tougher time as it ran into the frame supporting the enormous structure. Even braced, Eddie was still pitched out of his chair as the M60 was almost dragged to a halt, ensnared in the tangled gridwork. The diesel snarled, the tracks shrieking as they fought for purchase – then suddenly the behemoth ripped itself loose and slithered out on to the runway. Wreckage crashed down behind it.

  Off to one side, he saw the Learjet. He briefly thought about crippling it, but remembered that Abbot and his co-pilot were aboard, and that a tank was not a precision weapon – he didn’t want to add murder to the list of charges against himself and Nina. Instead he drove the M60 past it and headed down the valley.

  ‘We made it!’ Nina shouted. ‘We got out!’

  ‘We’re out of the hangar,’ he replied, ‘but it’s about ten miles to the nearest road, and we’ve only got a teacup of diesel left.’ The fuel gauge was now on empty.

  She clambered through the connecting passage into the driver’s compartment. ‘How many miles per gallon does this thing get?’

  ‘None. It’s more like gallons per mile.’

  ‘So, not exactly a Prius, then.’ She looked through the peri-scopes. The dust-covered runway stretched away to the southern end of the valley. Even at the tank’s top speed, it would be another couple of minutes before they reached open desert. ‘How far will we be able to get?’

  As if in answer, the diesel’s roar momentarily hiccuped. The engine was straining to draw the last dregs of fuel into its cylinders. ‘At a guess, maybe, er . . . fifty yards?’

  He checked the valley walls. Off to the runway’s left they were too steep to climb, almost cliffs, but those on the right were lower and more accessible, with potential for concealment. The downside was that going that way would take them deeper into the enormous military range, in the direction of Groom Lake and Area 51.

  But there was no other choice. He angled the M60 across the runway towards the lower western side of the valley. The engine coughed again as its insatiable thirst drained the fuel tank dry. Their speed began to drop.

  ‘Shit, we’re not even going to reach the bottom of the hill,’ he realised. ‘Go back into the turret and open the top hatch. Soon as we stop, get out and run for that little gully there.’ He pointed at a narrow channel winding up into the brown rocks. ‘I’ll be right behind you.’

  Nina retreated to the commander’s position, pulling the lever to unlock the hatch above. She glanced back though a porthole at the gaping hole in the huge door – and saw tiny figures spilling through it. ‘Eddie! They’re coming after us!’

  ‘In jeeps or on foot?’

  ‘On foot.’

  ‘Good – that gives us a few minutes’ start, at least.’ The lack of fuel reaching the choking engine caused a literal death-rattle to echo through the cabin. The M60 slowed sharply. ‘That’s it, we’re done. Get out now!’

  Nina forced the heavy hatch open and climbed out on to the top of the turret. Behind her, the massive diesel finally cut out. The squeal of the tracks faded as the tank ground to a standstill. She lowered herself to the hull, then jumped off, running for the gully.

  Eddie exited via the driver’s hatch and quickly caught up. ‘Dunno how the fuck we’re going to get out of this one.’

  ‘No, no no,’ Nina admonished. ‘You’re supposed to say something positive.’

  ‘I would, but unless somebody offers us a free helicopter ride we’ll have a job.’ They reached the gully and started up it. The ascent was steeper than it had looked from the tank, wind-deposited sand making finding footholds a treacherous task. ‘Head over to your left, it looks a bit easier.’

  She hauled herself up to a flatter area of rock, looking back towards the base. The running figures were making worryingly rapid progress. ‘Oh God, they’re catching up! How long before they can shoot at us?’

  Eddie followed her up. ‘If any of ’em are good shots, they already can! But they’re air force, so we’re probably safe until they’re within twenty feet . . .’

  ‘Why do people in one branch of the forces hate everyone in the others more than the people they’re supposed to be fighting?’ Nina gasped as she ran up the slope. A clump of boulders ahead offered temporary cover from gunfire.

  Beyond them, a hundred or so yards distant, rose a ridge. ‘We need to get over that,’ said Eddie. ‘The rock on the right, go up behind it.’

  Nina changed direction. The slope became steeper, slowing her. Her throat began to burn with each breath. A look back: the men chasing them were blocked from view by the boulders. ‘At least they can’t shoot at us now—’

  A distant sound caught her attention. Eddie immediately picked up on her alarm. ‘What is it?’

  ‘I can hear something! Sounds like—’

  ‘A chopper,’ he finished for her. Even with his diminished hearing, he could make out the thump of rotor blades. Someone at Silent Peak had called for help, and with the other secretive military facilities in the region essentially on permanent alert, it hadn’t taken long for the response to arrive.

  No sign of the aircraft yet, though. They still had a chance to find cover. ‘Come on, go!’ he shouted. ‘We’ve got to get ove
r the ridge!’

  ‘I’m going, I’m going!’ Nina complained, panting.

  Feet rasping over rock and sand, they pounded up the slope. The incline became steeper as they approached its top. Eddie had to use his hands for support to clear the final yards. ‘Almost there . . .’

  The helicopter’s rotor noise became a boom as it came into view. A Black Hawk; it was about half a mile away, but curving towards the base. ‘Down!’ Eddie commanded, but more as an automatic response to an airborne threat than in any real hope of finding concealment – they would be plainly visible against the barren hillside.

  He looked for cover. Nothing usable on this side of the ridge. On the other side was a shallow natural bowl, broken rocks strewn within.

  Not great, but better than nothing. ‘Over this side, quick!’ They scrabbled over the ridge and half ran, half slid down to the nearest large rock and crouched behind it. Nina cautiously peered round the boulder to find the Black Hawk.

  It was changing course, turning sharply to head towards them. ‘Oh, crap,’ she squeaked.

  Eddie was already searching for better cover, but nothing presented itself. Wherever they went, the Black Hawk could simply hover overhead. ‘So much for ’em not being able to shoot at us.’

  ‘This is not my fault! Any ideas?’

  ‘You don’t have a white flag, do you?’

  Even if she had, it became clear a moment later that they wouldn’t get the chance to use it. A man leaning from the Black Hawk’s cabin opened fire with a machine gun. Bullets cracked noisily off the rock above them. Nina shrieked and scrambled round the boulder in an attempt to keep it between her and the helicopter; Eddie followed, stone chips biting at his heels. Choking dust swirled around them as the aircraft descended.

  The assault continued without pause. A chunk of stone the size of a human head splintered from the rock and smacked down between Eddie and Nina. ‘Jesus Christ!’ she cried, flinching away – and in her peripheral vision catching movement at the top of the ridge.

  The Security Forces had found them.

  ‘Eddie!’ She dropped flat as more gunfire struck from a different direction. More men were climbing over the hill.

  Their orders were obviously to kill the intruders. Eddie gave Nina a last despairing look, grabbing her hand as the Black Hawk moved directly overhead—

  The gunfire stopped.

  The helicopter briefly hung above them, then veered away. Nina squinted through the billowing dust to see the troops also departing, one man with a hand to his head as if listening to a message through an earpiece – and unable to believe what he was hearing. He glared at the couple, then lowered his weapon and followed his companions out of sight.

  Eddie wiped grit from his face. ‘What the hell? Why did they stop?’ He risked raising his head to look for the Black Hawk. It was on a course back to its home base.

  ‘You got a problem with that?’ Nina asked. ‘Because I don’t.’

  ‘Neither do I, but why are they just fucking off like that?’ He double-checked the ridge, expecting to see the pursuing troops lurking in wait, but it appeared that they really had retreated. ‘Stay there and keep down – I’ll see what’s going on.’

  ‘Shouldn’t we, y’know, run while we can?’ Nina called after him, but he ignored her and quickly scaled the ridge, dropping to his stomach near the top and peering over it.

  The troops had indeed retreated, but not far. One man was surveying the ridge; he did a double-take as he spotted Eddie, pointing him out to his fellows, but none of them took a shot at him, or even raised their weapons.

  ‘What are they doing?’ Nina asked as he returned.

  ‘I dunno, but I don’t like it. They don’t want to kill us – but it doesn’t look like they’re going to let us leave either. They didn’t look happy about it, though. Somebody’s ordered them to stand down.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘I wish I knew. But I get the feeling they’ll keep us here until we find out.’

  That turned out to be the case. After several minutes, they heard another approaching chopper: not the Black Hawk that had attacked them, but a much smaller OH-6 Cayuse scout helicopter. It passed over the bowl, then moved to land near the abandoned tank.

  Another few minutes passed, then a man appeared at the crest of the rise. ‘Dr Wilde! Mr Chase!’

  Eddie leaned out, regarding the new arrival cautiously. He was an air force colonel, carrying something in one hand: a satellite phone. ‘Yeah? What’s up?’

  ‘Can I come down to you?’

  Nina and Eddie traded bewildered glances. ‘Sure, why not?’ Nina called out.

  The colonel picked his way down the slope, almost slipping on some loose gravel at its foot, but managing to retain his footing and dignity as he reached them. It was clear from his disgusted expression that he didn’t want to be dealing with them at all, but was obeying orders from above. He held out the phone. ‘I’ve been told to give you this.’

  Still confused, Nina accepted it. She held it to her ear, tilting it so Eddie could listen in. ‘Hello?’

  ‘Dr Wilde, hello,’ said an unfamiliar voice. The accent was American, a refined New England baritone.

  ‘Who is this?’

  ‘You don’t know me – at least, not yet. But I think you’re aware of the organisation I represent. I’m the chairman of the Group.’

  Nina couldn’t help but be suspicious. ‘So . . . what do you want?’

  ‘I want to talk to you. Both of you, in person. Since I’ve just saved your lives, I hope you’ll show your gratitude by agreeing to meet me.’

  21

  Washington, DC

  Under the angry eyes of the troops from Silent Peak, Nina and Eddie were led to the helicopter, which flew them to Nellis Air Force Base northeast of Las Vegas. A jet waited for them, larger than the Lear; a C-37A, the US military’s version of the Gulfstream V business aircraft, luxuriously appointed as a VIP transport. They were accompanied by two air force officers, who like the colonel appeared displeased to have been assigned this particular escort duty. Once in flight, they sat at the cabin’s far end, occasionally shooting dirty glances towards the couple.

  Since there was nothing else that could be done, Eddie chose to stretch out in a reclining seat and doze through the eastward flight. Nina regarded him jealously. She was too concerned for her racing mind to allow her to rest. What she had heard about the Group was apparently true; if they had enough influence to intervene in the internal security of the US military – quickly enough to halt an ongoing search-and-destroy operation – then they must have direct access to the very highest levels of the American government.

  And they had used that power to save her and Eddie’s lives. She was grateful for that . . . but what price would be asked in return?

  By the time the plane landed, night had fallen over the eastern seaboard. The two officers took them down the steps to the runway, where a limousine waited. Eddie peered inside. A man in a dark suit gestured for him to enter. ‘Come on in, Mr Chase,’ said the stranger. ‘Sit down. You too, Dr Wilde. I won’t bite.’

  ‘I might,’ Eddie muttered, climbing in to sit facing him. Nina hesitantly took a place beside her husband.

  The man in the back seat was in his sixties, tall and broad-shouldered in a way that suggested he had been an athlete in his youth. Despite his age, he was obviously still strong and in excellent health. His grey hair was slicked back from his prominent forehead, a pair of rectangular spectacles giving him a stern, patrician air. He had a downturned mouth that didn’t seem accustomed to smiling. ‘Welcome to Washington,’ he said. ‘I’m glad to see you both alive and well.’

  ‘I’d be gladder if I knew what the hell was going on,’ said Eddie.

  ‘Well, that’s what I’m going to tell you.’ He pushed a button to speak to the driver. ‘Let’s go.’ The limo set off, the Gulfstream retreating beyond the darkened rear window.

  ‘Okay,’ said Nina, ‘my first question is: who a
re you?’

  ‘My name is Travis Warden. You may have heard of me, or you may not. It depends how closely you read the financial pages.’

  ‘They’re not really my thing,’ she admitted.

  ‘That’s true for most people. Which is why the histrionics aimed at the financial world over the past few years are ironic at best, and hypocritical at worst. Anyone taking the time and effort to analyse the data that was freely available would have seen that the boom before the economic crash was unsustainable. But –’ he shrugged – ‘nobody wants to believe that the good times will ever stop rolling, so they fail to plan for the inevitable.’ He gave his passengers a meaningful look. ‘Well, almost nobody.’

  ‘You did make plans,’ said Eddie.

  ‘We did. By “we”, I mean the Group. It’s our business to plan for the future. Not just for the next year, or the next electoral cycle. We plan for decades ahead, generations.’

  ‘That seems a bit presumptuous,’ Nina said.

  ‘Only those who prepare for the future deserve a hand in shaping it.’

  ‘So the Group is a collection of merchant bankers?’ she asked. Eddie couldn’t suppress a smirk. ‘What?’

  ‘That’s Cockney rhyming slang,’ he told her. ‘For wan—’

  ‘Yes, thank you for that, honey.’

  A small tic under Warden’s right eye betrayed his impatience. ‘Some of the Group’s members are bankers, yes. But I’m more of . . . an investor, you could say. An investor in the future. I put capital where it’s needed to ensure that the Group’s long-term goals happen. Not just here in the United States, but all over the world. The Group is an international organisation with one ultimate goal: global order.’

  ‘So you’re like the Bilderberg group?’

  A dismissive snort. ‘The Bilderberg members just talk. We act.’ The limo paused at the airport’s outer gate for the barrier to be raised, then turned on to a road and headed for the distant lights of Washington. ‘We want to end human conflict.’

  ‘That’s kind of a grand plan,’ said Nina, deliberately challenging. ‘Everyone from Alexander the Great through Genghis Khan up to Hitler has had their own ideas on how to do it. And they’ve all failed. What makes yours any different?’