Area 51: The Mission-3 (16 page)

and, if Yakov was to be believed, turned them into Guides. When Majestic uncovered the guardian computer and brought it back to Dulce, it affected the minds of those in charge, particularly Gullick, and led to the attempt to launch the mothership that Turcotte and the others had narrowly averted.

"Intelligence," Von Seeckt said. "Kennedy, our CIA representative, forwarded a report about Jorgenson's dig there and the discovery of something strange."

"Bullshit," Turcotte snapped. "I've had Major Quinn check both the CIA and Majestic records. A lot of them have been destroyed, but what is there suggests the guardian pyramid wasn't uncovered until after Majestic's team got there. And they knew exactly where to dig. What isn't in the records is how they got that information."

"I do not know," Von Seeckt said.

"Again, bullshit. You were part of Majestic. You've played this 'I don't know' game long enough." Turcotte wished he could reach through the screen and wrap his hands around the old man's scrawny neck. He had to give the old man credit that he had helped them stop the flight of the mothership, but with Yakov's new information, Turcotte wasn't so sure that Von Seeckt had acted out of altruism.

Shortly after first meeting, Kelly Reynolds had told Turcotte how the place Von Seeckt had worked at—the V-l and V-2 rocket site at Peenumunde—prior to going on the mission to Egypt had used slave labor from the

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nearby concentration camp and how thousands had died in those factories and camps. But Von Seeckt had conveniently claimed ignorance of that also at first.

"And I've also received information that the guardian was not found at Temiltepec," Turcotte threw out.

Von Seeckt shook his head. "I have told you all I know. I was told it was Temiltepec."

"You're lying."

"What difference does all this make now?" Von Seeckt sounded very tired. "I understand the Airlia fleet was destroyed. Why are you delving into these things?"

"Because this group is still around somewhere and we need to know more about it. And I think this group had something do with Majestic recovering the guardian wherever they found it." Turcotte saw no reason to divulge to Von Seeckt the information about the Guides or The Mission yet.

"No. I know nothing of such a thing."

"Then tell me about Dulce," Turcotte said.

"I told you already that I only went to Dulce once. That Dulce was the province of the others."

"The other Nazi scientists brought to the United States under Operation Paperclip to work for our government," Turcotte clarified. "But what exactly were they doing there? What was on that lowest level where the guardian computer was stored?"

"I do not know. I never—"

"What was there?" Turcotte cut the old man off. "You do know! Tell me!"

"All they told me was that they were doing experiments. It is what Nightscape picked up the people for."

"No." Turcotte shook his head. "Nightscape kidnapped people, but they were brainwashed on the level above, the level where we found Johnny Simmons."

"Yes, the abductees who were returned with their

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disinformation. Did you ever wonder what happened to the abductees who never came back?" Von Seeckt asked. "All those people who disappear every year and are never seen again?"

"They went to the bottom level at Dulce?"

"I am sure some did," Von Seeckt said. "The Paperclip people who worked there, they were most ruthless. They had experience in the camps. Even in your great democracy such things go on."

Turcotte ignored Von Seeckt's barbs. "What was going on in the very bottom level? Where the vats holding those people were? I saw vats like that at Scorpion Base. It was how STAAR 'grew' their own agents. Agents who we now know were Airlia/human genetic combinations. What was going on at Dulce? Were they doing that? Or were they doing something else? Biological-warfare experiments?"

"I don't know." Von Seeckt turned his head.

"What about General Hemstadt?" Turcotte asked.

"He had cold eyes," Von Seeckt murmured. "No life in them."

"Was he working on biological warfare?" Turcotte pressed.

Von Seeckt said nothing.

"The Black Death," Yakov growled.

Von Seeckt turned back toward the camera. "Who are you?"

"The Black Death," Yakov repeated. "Have you heard of it?"

"Rumors," Von Seeckt whispered.

"Rumors of the Black Death?"

"Just rumors. A weapon."

"The Mission." Yakov spit the two words out.

Turcotte noted that that brought a reaction. Von Seeckt's eyes widened.

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"Tell me about The Mission," Turcotte pressed.

"I don't know—"

Yakov cut the old man off. "Do not lie to us! Hemstadt went there, didn't he?"

Von Seeckt wearily nodded. "When I heard he left Dulce, I knew something was wrong. It was a month before General Gullick wanted to fly the mothership. I wonder now if they were connected. I also feared that Hemstadt wanted to use the bouncers. To spread whatever he had been working on in the lab at Dulce."

Turcotte stared at the screen. Von Seeckt had slumped back on his pillow, his eyes closed.

Turcotte cut the connection. There was so much that wasn't clear. If Majestic had been infiltrated by the Guides—or STAAR—then that put a whole new light on many things that had occurred. It also put a new light on the destruction of the Dulce facility by the foo fighter. Maybe the target of the foo fighter had been more than just the guardian? Maybe the foo fighter had taken out the Dulce facility to destroy whatever Hemstadt was working on? But the foo fighter had been controlled by the guardian. Had they taken out Dulce to cover the trail? To protect The Mission? The more Turcotte learned, the less he understood.

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-10-

The traveler walked the dusty path, a solitary figure in a very inhospitable land. The person was tall, wrapped in gray robes that were worn and dirty. A hood covered her face, the only indication of her sex being the slight curve at bosom and hips. She had a large pack on her back that she carried easily.

The path could barely be called that. She had picked it up thirty miles southwest of Nairobi, the capital of Kenya. She had not seen a human in the four days since starting her journey. At times the path was so overgrown, she used the machete strapped to her waist to cut through. But always she pressed on, even moving at night, resting only a few hours out of each twenty-four-hour cycle. She wished there were another way, but by foot was the only means of finding where she wanted to go. The trail was ancient, and modern means would not work to follow it.

The path ran along the Great Rift Valley. The longest, continuous crack on land on the surface of the planet, the valley ran from southern Turkey, through Syria, between Israel and Jordan where the Dead Sea lay—the lowest point on the face of the planet. From there it formed the basin of the Red Sea. At the Gulf of Aden the Rift Valley broke into two, one part going into

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the Indian Ocean, the other inland into Africa, the track the woman was currently on.

To her west, she knew the Rift Valley framed Lake Victoria, the world's second-largest freshwater lake. Ahead of her, it went south for hundreds of miles through the rest of Kenya, into Tanzania, before ending somewhere in Mozambique. The Rift Valley made California's San Andreas fault look like a child's scratching on the face of the planet, while this split was the work of a god.

The land she passed through was tumbled and broken. A river ran through the lowest part, surrounded on both sides by high, tortuous mountains. The path roughly paralleled the river. The sun beat down on the land, raising the daytime temperature easily over one hundred. She relished the heat even though it was difficult to adjust to, as she had spent the past twenty-two years under the ice in Antarctica. To those she had worked with there, she had been known only by the name Lexina, the head of STAAR. Since they had fled Scorpion Base, her small group had scattered across the globe to continue their tasks, but as always, it seemed as if all they were doing was reacting.

Lexina paused as she turned a bend. She scanned the terrain until she saw the anomaly in the growth near the trail. Drawing her machete, she cut through the weeds and cleared away the vegetation. A weathered stone obelisk, five meters high, slowly became visible. It was on the side of the path, half obscured with weeds, the stone itself worn with the passing of many years.

Long, pale fingers reached out and traced the markings on the stone. It was the third such obelisk she had passed in the last few days.

They were markers, border stones from the ancient Empire of Axum. The top half of the stone was covered

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with Ge-ez, the official language of Axum. Lexina could read it—indeed, it was not a dead language, as it was still in use among a few monks of the Ethiopian church.

Axum was accepted by historians as one of the earliest empires in the world, founded around the first or second century before the birth of Christ. The empire covered most of what was now Ethiopia and Kenya. It traded with Greece and Rome during its heyday, while at the same time reaching to the east to India and even China.

Lexina also knew it was an empire few people had heard of. Mostly because it was here in Africa and because it was an empire of dark-skinned people—not the most popular subject around the world's history courses. But at its height, Axum rivaled any of the kingdoms it traded with—Rome, China, India. And it had a most interesting history. Like many early peoples, the people of Axum worshiped a sun god. Even long after Christianity came to Axum, the Queen of Sheba was reported to be a sun god worshiper. Although she was known to most in the present day as the Queen of Sheba and her visit with King Solomon was well recorded, Lexina and those who knew the history of Axum knew her official title was Queen of Sheba and Axum.

This marker made mention of the queen, and her borders, but it was the bottom half of the marker that interested her. She could make some sense of the writing there also—the high rune language.

The markings indicated she was on the right path.

She pulled a small headset out of a fold in her cloak. The mike was voice-activated, the cord connecting it to a very small but powerful transmitter in her pack.

"Elek?"

She waited a moment.

"Elek?"

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"Yes?" The voice on the other end was crystal clear, relayed through the earpiece.

"I have found another stone," Lexina said.

"The path is still good?"

"Yes. Anything further on your mission?"

"I am arranging transportation and mercenaries. That is proving to be difficult, but not impossible."

"We are running out of time," Lexina said.

"I will be ready to move on schedule."

"That may not be good enough. You must find the power."

"The power will be no good without—"

"I know," Lexina snapped. "Do you have any further information that could help my quest?"

"Nothing yet."

"Coridan and Gergor?"

"They have done what they were ordered to."

"Did they find it?"

"No."

"I will check with you later."

She took the headset off.

Lexina continued. As the path went up over a rise, she stopped. Far in the distance was a shimmering white cloud. She stared at it for several minutes, but it didn't move. She pulled the hood back. Her face was pale and smooth, the white hair cut tight against her skull. She wore black wraparound sunglasses.

She pulled the sunglasses off for a moment. Red, elongated pupils narrowed as the bright sun hit them, but she wanted a clear look. She knew the white wasn't a cloud but snow, the very top of Mount Kilimanjaro, rising 19,340 feet above the plain that surrounded it. Her destination, according to the markers, was to the west of that landmark. She put the glasses back on.

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"My men have gone completely around the tomb and checked all the approaches.

The army is too strong. They have tanks, we have rifles. They have helicopters, we have grenades." For Lo Fa that was a speech. He had spoken in a low voice, so that only Che Lu could hear him.

The small grove that sheltered the group's base camp had filled up. The men's women had arrived, bringing their children. Che Lu had not realized how extensive the rebellion was. Wandering the camp, she heard tales of villages being burned, people slaughtered.

The population in this part of China differed somewhat ethnically from the east, but more important, Islam was the religion of the majority of people. The central government had long waged battle against that religion as its practitioners looked westward rather than east.

Che Lu had seen many refugees in her life and the sight never failed to depress her. They were people who had lost everything but their spirit and what they carried on their back. Having lived through all of China's modern history, she found it particularly ironic that the government in Beijing, which had been founded by those she had been with on the Long March—refugees to the extreme—were now inflicting the same situation on their own people.

Che Lu returned her attention to Lo Fa, who had accepted a tin of stew from a young girl. Che Lu had been reading Nabinger's notebook while the guerrillas did their reconnaissance.

"Has the army entered?" she asked.

"No. Remember, they sealed the entrance you went in. The only opening right now is the way you got out, on the top. They have rigged explosives around it and have guns trained on it, as if they fear someone coming

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out more than they consider going in themselves. They fear the tomb."

Che Lu knew a westerner would find such a reaction by an army to be strange, but the Chinese people had different beliefs and values from those in the West.

What checked the army from going in were several factors. One was an ingrained respect for ancestors—thus any entry into a tomb was viewed as a terrible crime.

Another, though, was fear of the unknown. The army had to know by now that there was more to the tomb than just the graves of Gao-zong and his empress.