The Atlantis Ascent Page 8

  The government’s plan was obvious—keep the Atlanteans barely alive so they couldn’t cause any trouble. It seemed to be working. The people he saw sitting around the tents looked ragged and despondent. He suspected that they’d still be capable of launching a prison break if they could muster the courage. With their speed and strength, they could overwhelm the guards and tear up the fence in minutes.

  They’d lose a lot of people from those machine gun towers, though, and with all the children and old people here, the healthier Atlanteans wouldn’t want to risk it. Besides, there was nowhere for them to run.

  So the Atlanteans were under control. Good. He estimated they numbered about six hundred. A few hundred more had fled to neighboring countries and no doubt some were hiding out, but the government had captured enough of them to make a decent genetic sample of their population.

  The only problem was, he wasn’t sure he’d get that chance, not with those Russian agents here. Vice President Salek was showing both groups around like he was some sort of used car salesman. Corbin had no doubt he’d sell to the highest bidder, and the Russians had Moscow behind them. Corbin only had his secret funds and no way to get more on such short notice.

  Salek, flanked by the two generals and several heavily armed soldiers, led them into a small building with several civilian vehicles parked next to it. Inside they saw what Corbin had suspected, and what he had feared—a small but well-stocked laboratory filled with scientific equipment. Several Mauritanian researchers in lab coats were hard at work. Corbin didn’t know about much about science, but he had been involved in the Poseidon Project long enough to recognize a genetics lab when he saw one.

  “You’re creating a genetic database of the Atlantean prisoners,” Dimitri Rublev said.

  “It is a quick process, or so my scientists tell me,” Salek said. “We just need an oral swab from each individual and then put it through the imaging process. When we are done we will have what the two great powers do not have, the key to unlocking the secret of the race of ancient Atlantis. These are the genes that helped create world civilization, the genes that, if the legends are to be believed, built the greatest civilization of them all. And these genes hold the key to the Atlanteans’ magical powers. We have been preparing for this for many years, sending bright university students to train in Europe as genetics experts. Quite an expensive project that I hope will soon pay off.”

  Dimitri turned to him. “My government will pay handsomely for this information.”

  “As will mine,” General Corbin said.

  The vice president nodded, evidently pleased. “I must admit that our president and his cabinet were reluctant to put all our cards on the table, as you say in America. They were worried you might invade in order to take what you want. A single well-supported brigade of either of your armies could do it with ease.”

  General Corbin cut in. “Mr. Vice President. The United States would never—”

  Salek cut him off. “Don’t be ridiculous, general. When has your nation not been at war? And as for the Russians,” he gave Dimitri and Nadya a sly look, “they are an equally grave danger to a nation like mine. Nevertheless, I convinced my superiors that we were safe from invasion using a simple economic argument. A cost-benefit analysis, as we economists say. Since you both know what we have to offer, any attempt to take over our country could spark a war between you that neither of you want or can afford. You’ve always been content to fight it out with puppet regimes in proxy wars. Oh, very civilized, I must say. Korea. The Arab-Israeli War. The Congo. El Salvador. All wars between Russia and the United States in which neither of your countries got your hands dirty but in which hundreds of thousands died. And you come here looking at us as barbarians. But now you don’t get to do that. One of you will walk away with the contract for the Atlantean genetic code, and there’s nothing the other can do about it. So make your bids, ladies and gentlemen, and then get out of my country.”

  General Corbin cocked his head. “Mr. Vice President, if you weren’t enslaving your own people I’d actually admire you for a patriot.”

  Salek gave him a level stare. “I have been to New York City as well as the Taj Mahal, general, I have seen how you treat people who have dark skin in your country. Don’t talk to me about slavery. These people will be let go once we get what we want. That’s better than what you’d do to them.”

  General Corbin shrugged. He couldn’t argue with that.

  After a tour of the laboratory that satisfied both General Corbin and the Russians that they’d receive exactly what had been promised, Salek ushered them into the barracks.

  “Here we have set aside private quarters for both delegations. I presume you both have encrypted satellite telephones?” Corbin and Nadya nodded. “Excellent. Then you can call your superiors and discuss the details of what you will offer. It is already getting a bit late and there have been reports of Tuareg rebels spotted in the area. I suggest we stay here for the night. You will be quite safe and I assure you the rooms are not bugged. No doubt you have the equipment to check that I am telling the truth. Have a good evening and I will see you at dinner, where we will resume our little chat. If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask.”

  Salek and the two generals left. A couple of the guards stayed at the end of the hallway, blocking the only way out. Nadya and Dimitri gave Corbin a suspicious look and went into their room, closing and locking the door behind them.

  Corbin turned to Orion. “Stand guard.”

  Orion didn’t respond or even nod, he merely took a position in front of their door and stood at attention. The Mauritanian soldiers at the end of the hallway looked at him uncomfortably. Corbin and General Meade entered the room.

  It was a sparse concrete rectangle with four cots and a bureau that reminded him of some of the barracks he’d slept in when he was still a common soldier. It seemed that all armies kept their men in equally ugly quarters. Corbin put his briefcase down on one of the beds and pulled out an electronic detector. After a careful scan of the room, he found Salek had been good to his word. The room wasn’t bugged and there were no hidden cameras. He also checked for holes in the wall, ceiling, and floor. In this electronic age, people often overlooked the simpler, more old-fashioned methods of eavesdropping. He found none of those either. It appeared they had privacy.

  General Meade still stood just inside the door, staring at Corbin.

  “Lie down on the bed and take a nap or something, you’re giving me the creeps,” Corbin snapped. Meade quietly did as he was told.

  Shaking his head, Corbin pulled out his satellite phone. It was the latest technology. Not even the Russians or Chinese knew how to hack it, or at least that was the word around the Pentagon. Certainly Salek and his flunkies weren’t up to the challenge.

  He put in a call to Dr. Jones. Once he got him on the line and found out that the new subjects were progressing well, and that another batch of five teenaged runaways had been collected and were getting the same treatment, Corbin outlined what he had learned.

  “That’s incredible!” Dr. Jones cried. “A once in a lifetime chance. We have to get those data.”

  “It’s going to the highest bidder, and the Russians are going to outbid us.”

  “Call the Joint Chiefs of Staff and ask for more funding. I’m sure if you explain how important this is, they’ll provide more money. I’d be happy to speak with them for you.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Corbin said. Dr. Jones didn’t know he had gone rogue. The scientist thought he was working on a Top Secret project that had the blessing of the Pentagon. He had been sworn to secrecy, so there was no chance of him giving the game away, but Jones didn’t realize just how tight their funding was, and how it was impossible to get more at the moment.

  “We really need those genetic samples,” the scientist continued. “Imagine, a nearly complete genetic sample of the Atlantean population from an entire country! That would bring our research ahead by years.”

&
nbsp; “How can we get it without paying for it?”

  There was a pause at the other end of the line. “What do you mean?”

  “We don’t have the funds. The Russians will outbid us.”

  “But I thought—”

  “Never mind what you thought. How else can we get it?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not a computer hacker.”

  Corbin hung up. His next call was to Operation Bicker. Most of them were simply experienced Internet trolls with dozens of online personalities they used to sway public opinion, but among them were a few skilled hackers. Corbin gave them the location of the camp and asked them to search for the genetics database at the lab computer. They told them they’d get back to him in half an hour.

  After half an hour of pacing, he got some bad news.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” the head of his hacking team said. “We checked for any satellite communications from that camp and aside from the usual military chatter there was no computer link. They’ve done the most basic and foolproof security measure of all—not linking their database to the Internet.”

  “Then how do they get their information to the central government?” General Corbin asked.

  “I guess they save it to an external hard drive and move it manually to the capital. They probably send updates every week or so.”

  “Can you hack the capital’s computers?”

  “Which one? The university? The military? The government? Even in a small country like that the capital had thousands of computers. And if they are being so cautious on your end, I don’t think they’d keep the data on an exposed computer in the capital.”

  General Corbin cursed. After taking a moment to get control of his emotions, he called Dr. Jones again. He explained what the hacker had told him and then said,

  “The Mauritanians only started this research project a few weeks ago at most. From what I know, genetics testing takes some time. Do you think they already have much information stored in the capital?”

  Dr. Jones sounded relieved. “Oh, if it’s that recent of a project they might not have sent an update at all. Usually with research of this scale there’s a considerable setup time. That politician you told me about is bluffing. He’s gathering the data, but he doesn’t have it all yet.”

  General Corbin thought for a moment.

  “Do we really need this database?” he asked. “We already have the serum to make our own Atlanteans.”

  “If we have that database we can refine the serum. Plus, who knows what else we’ll discover? We don’t know how the Atlanteans create their special powers, for example, and the test subjects don’t seem to develop that, at least not in the beginning stages. We haven’t had time for a long-term study, of course, so if we—”

  “We’re not going to have time for a long-term study, so put that out of your mind,” General Corbin said. Sooner or later, someone at the Pentagon was going to start asking questions about what he was doing. He needed to strike soon.

  Neither spoke for a moment. At last, Dr. Jones said, “If we don’t get the database it won’t be a disaster. We have the serum. I don’t know why you’re in such a rush but if we just get a few years we can make our own database. You can’t rush science. Even with the information the Mauritanians have gathered it would take a year or so just to analyze. So whatever you have planned for the short term, you’re only going to get to work with the serum. The artificial Atlanteans will have to do for now.”

  “What if the Russians get the database?”

  “Don’t let them.” Dr. Jones’ voice came out unusually hard. Corbin realized that the scientist’s pride was at stake.

  These eggheads could be just as competitive as any athlete or soldier, he thought with a smile.

  “Yes, but what if they do?”

  “You say the sample size is around six hundred?”

  “You mean the number of Atlanteans they have here?”

  “Yes.”

  “There’s no way we’re going to be able to gather that kind of sample anytime soon. It would take years, and you say you don’t have years. It would help if I knew what you wanted to do with all this.”

  “Never mind that. So are you saying that if the Russians get it they’d be too far ahead for us to ever catch up?”

  “Exactly. They’re not as advanced in genetics technology as we are but with a head start like that they’d don’t need to be.”

  “So what do you suggest I do?” General Corbin asked, completely at a loss.

  “You can’t steal it?”

  Corbin snorted. This guy was incredible. “I’m at an army base, so no.”

  “Then send Orion in to destroy it.”

  The scientist’s words came out with that same hardness as before.

  General Corbin paused, then asked. “You’d destroy a precious, one-of-a-kind scientific database just to keep it from the Russians?”

  “Yes.”

  The general smiled. “Doctor, I underestimated you. Yours is the only solution. I see that now. Have a good day.”

  General Corbin hung up, and got to planning.

  Chapter 9

  AUGUST 27, THE SAHARA DESERT A FEW MILES EAST OF TIDJIKJA, MAURITANIA

  11:00 P.M.

  * * *

  It was almost time to launch the attack on the prison camp, and Jaxon had the jitters. She paced back and forth in the darkness. The whole plan sounded stupid, and the getaway even stupider, but she didn’t have any better ideas.

  The worst of it all was that people were going to get killed. There was no way around that.

  Agerzam had already radioed ahead to the prison camp, pretending to be an army officer and saying that the Jeep and truck were coming in. He had explained the unscheduled arrival by blaming the quartermaster at another army base for mixing up deliveries of supplies. He said that since it was so late, and he was afraid of the Tuaregs, that they wanted to stay at the prison camp overnight for safety. The commander of the camp agreed, not suspecting that the man on the military radio channel was actually the government’s Public Enemy Number One.

  So in a few minutes, some of Agerzam’s men would set out in the Jeep and truck dressed as military. The Atlantis Allegiance and the Atlantis Guard would ride in the back of the truck. They already wore military uniforms. Jaxon’s was too long and baggy and her telltale features remained all too visible. It wasn’t much of a disguise, but she and the other Atlanteans and foreigners would hide in the back of the truck so the prison guards wouldn’t see their faces.

  Elaine had sent up her drone earlier that evening and it had spotted more vehicles than Agerzam’s satellite photo had. They looked both military and civilian. Something was going on in the camp, something unusual. Perhaps Grunt was right and General Meade really had come to visit. She’d like to meet him face to face. He’d been the cause of all her troubles for the last several months and she had never even laid eyes on him.

  Yuhle and Yamazaki were staying behind. Agerzam had wanted to go but his men refused to allow him, saying he was too important to risk in such a dangerous mission. This led to a long argument in their own language. Jaxon didn’t know any of the words, but could follow the gist of it easily enough. The Tuareg leader’s pride dictated that he should lead his men into battle. He kept gesturing at Vivian, Jaxon, and Elaine as he shouted at his men. Jaxon figured he was saying something like, “You let women fight, but not me?”

  In the end, his men held their ground and won. This rebel group was no dictatorship, and if the men united around something, the leader had to follow their lead. Agerzam left the circle grumbling and shaking his head.

  Another person who would stay behind was Otto. He volunteered to go but Grunt convinced him to stay behind too. Jaxon got the sense that her boyfriend actually felt relieved not to have to go.

  The plan was simple. They’d drive up to the gate, show the identification they’d stolen from the army, get let in, and from there they’d play it by ear. With luck, Winston could get the
commander under his control and get him to order his men to let the Atlanteans go. Then the column of trucks Agerzam had waiting in the desert nearby would come in and take them away. If they weren’t lucky they might have to shoot it out. Surprise would be on their side, and some of the prisoners would no doubt help, so they stood a good chance of winning.

  It would be a bloodbath, though.

  A low whistle from the direction of the trucks told her the time had come. She could see no lights over there. The entire camp kept itself in darkness in case the army had scouts out watching.

  She paused, took a deep breath, and stared at the sky for a moment.

  “Come on, be a hero,” she told herself. “It’s not like you have any choice.”

  She walked toward the trucks. Somehow Otto found her in the dark and cut her off.

  “I can come if you want,” he said.

  “No. You don’t need to come so there’s no point you risking your life.”

  “I don’t like sending you into danger all alone.”

  “I’m hardly alone, Otto, but I know what you mean. Look, Grunt said that it would be better if your place was taken with a trained fighter. We need Winston for his power, and Elaine for her healing. Everyone else is a trained fighter.”

  “You’re not.”

  “No, but it’s my fight.”

  There was a pause. Jaxon tried to read his expression in the darkness but couldn’t.

  “Yeah, I guess Grunt is right from a tactical viewpoint,” Otto said like he was trying to reassure himself.

  Jaxon drew him close and kissed him. She hoped it wouldn’t be for the last time.

  “Take care,” she said.

  “You too.” Otto walked away and was swallowed by the shadows.

  She continued to the trucks, heart beating fast. Everyone had assembled and was busy checking their weapons by the starlight. She found Winston and pulled him aside.