Area 51: The Sphinx-4 (42 page)

"Get us to the surface, helm. Weapons, launch as soon as we are up."

"The shield is down!" Lieutenant Granger's voice cut across the hubbub of tracking the Tomahawk inside the operations center of the Anzio.

"It's back up," he yelled almost immediately.

"What's going on?" Captain Breuber demanded.

"AWACS has multiple missiles in the air!" one of the radar operators called out.

"From where?" Captain Breuber spun around.

"From Easter Island," the man replied.

"I thought AWACS blocked the radar." Breuber looked at Granger.

"They've got the frequency it transmits blocked," Granger said.

"Well, it's not working." Breuber leaned over the radar operator. "What are the missiles targeted on?"

"One each on the F-14s on CAP and one for the Tomahawk. A harpoon heading for the Springfield's location."

"Get the Tomcats out of there!" Breuber ordered.

"A Phoenix can't take down a Tomahawk," Granger said, his voice full of forced confidence. "It's too fast."

Breuber was watching the radar. All four F-14s were heading back toward the carrier with afterburners on.

"They're out of range of the Phoenix," the radarman announced.

Breuber didn't move. The four dots representing his aircraft were still being tracked by four dots representing the Phoenixes. The screen showed the Tomahawk was closing on the island, another dot closing on it.

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One of the pursuing dots caught a Tomcat. Both blipped out of existence.

"Evasive maneuvers!" Breuber yelled into the mike to the pilots of the three remaining craft.

"It's on me!" a pilot yelled.

Another pair blipped out.

"Eject!" Breuber ordered. Both remaining pairs disappeared.

"Did they get out?" he demanded of the radar operator.

"I don't know, sir."

"I thought they were out of range."

"They were, sir."

"They were of a normal Phoenix." Breuber was still watching the screen. The Tomahawk was less than forty kilometers from Easter Island. He wasn't surprised to see the remaining Phoenix close on the cruise missile.

"That's impossible," Granger whispered.

The nuclear-tipped Tomahawk was less than twenty kilometers from the shield when the Phoenix overtook it. Both dots disappeared.

"That's impossible," Granger repeated.

Captain Breuber rubbed his forehead. "That thing took our weapons and made them better." He picked up an intercom to the bridge. "I want another hundred kilometers between us and this island. Now! Rank speed! Get ahold of Springfield!"

"We've got hits on both bogies!" the weapons officer yelled.

"Target's destroyed?" Captain Forster demanded.

The sonarman immediately doused the momentary euphoria. "Negative. Both targets are holding, though, not closing."

"What the hell?" Forster muttered, trying to make sense of the foo fighters'

tactics.

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"We've got incoming from above!" the sonarman suddenly screamed. "Harpoon, impact in five seconds."

Every head in the control room looked up, as if they could see the missile coming down toward them. Shoulders tensed as each man waited for the explosion of the warhead, to be followed by the implosion as water rushed in and killed them.

A thud reverberated throughout the ship as the missile struck the top of the submarine's deck. But there was no explosion. Forster felt blood in his mouth from where he had bit his tongue at the sound. "A dud?"

Relief flooded across the crew's faces.

A Klaxon sounded, returning the looks of anxiety.

"Status?" Forster spun about to his executive officer.

"Breach in the hull, sir." The XO was looking at his status boards, his forehead furrowed. "I don't get it. We're not taking on any water, but something's coming through the hull."

Forster checked the screen himself. The alarm was coming from the hull just above the room in front of the combat center. He strode forward, slipping through the hatch. The men working there were all looking up, but nothing was happening—at first.

Forster's eyes widened as the metal itself seemed to shimmer, changing from gray to black.

"We have no contact with Springfield, sir!" Captain Breuber turned in his command chair. "Status?"

"She's heading for the shield. We've lost her."

VICINITY OF EASTER ISLAND

D - 4 Minutes

Duncan stood perfectly still, her mind trying to accept that what she was seeing in front of her was the object of

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legend. The Ark rested on a waist-high black platform. It was about three feet high and wide, and a little over four feet long. It was gold-plated, and the two long poles that were used to carry it were poking out on either end through the rings on the bottom of the Ark.

The most intriguing aspect were the two "cherubim" on the lid. They were shaped exactly like miniature versions of the head of the Black Sphinx, with ruby-red eyes, and as soon as she had entered the veil, both had slowly turned and fixed their inhuman gaze on her. Red light had flashed out from both heads, run over her garments and crown, and then stopped. But the heads were still focused on her presence.

Duncan felt the same menace from the two sphinx heads as from the ones on top of the poles. She forced herself forward, taking very careful steps until she was at the Ark itself. The two sphinx heads now faced each over the lid.

SPACE

D - 3 Minutes

The stubby snouts of the reentry vehicles for thirty-one cobalt nuclear warheads pointed down toward Earth.

NGORONGORO CRATER, TANZANIA D - 3 Minutes

Lexina had listened to her cell phone ring over and over again. She had confirmation from Elek that he had the key. She knew what had happened at Easter Island to the American fleet and that the war was alive once more. She also had a very good idea of what the next escalation of the war was going to consist of.

And America was currently more of a threat than an asset.

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It was a simple, dispassionate decision, similar to many her predecessors had made.

The phone rang once more, and she stared at it, not answering.

GOBI DESERT, MONGOLIA D - 2 Minutes, 30 Seconds

"They're going to nuke the States anyway, aren't they?" Captain Billam asked as Turcotte turned off the SATPhone.

"Not if I can help it," Turcotte said. He pulled a black box out of his shirt pocket and flipped open the cover. "Let's get their attention." There were a series of buttons on it, and he pushed the first one.

Elek spun about in his seat as a high-pitched shriek came out of the black coffin. He stopped the dragon, leaving it in a hover, and went back to the black tube. He swung open the lid, and the irritating noise stopped. The black case holding the key lay at the foot of the coffin.

At the head of the coffin was a shiny metal cylinder about three feet long by two in diameter. Turcotte's voice startled Elek, coming out of a small speaker taped to the hood of the coffin.

"You're looking at a twenty-kiloton-yield nuclear weapon. I don't know what that machine you're in is made of, but I know it's enough to take out the key and you. Now that I know you're listening, I suggest you tell Lexina to answer her phone."

Turcotte's SATPhone rang. He checked his watch before he opened it. Just under two minutes before Stratzyda released the warheads.

"Now do we have a deal?" Turcotte asked as soon as he pushed the on button.

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"I will stop Stratzyda," Lexina said. "Take your nuclear weapon off-line."

"That's not good enough." Turcotte had his watch in front of his face, watching the numbers tick off. "I want you to have the talon release Stratzyda and Warfighter into orbits that will never coincide again. Agree or I will destroy the key."

There was a long silence—forever, in Turcotte's opinion, as he watched twenty seconds tick off, bringing it under one minute before Stratzyda activated.

"It will be done."

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D - 2 Minutes

"Stratzyda is closed." Kincaid was staring at imagery just downloaded from Space Command. "She's floating free, distancing from the talon."

Major Quinn slumped down into his seat, all energy gone after the events of the last three days.

On the other side of the conference table, Kincaid was shuffling through other photos he'd downloaded— copies of the latest imagery from Hubble of the Cydonia region of Mars. The four piles of rubble were larger, and the camera was now able to make out a small cleared area that revealed a spiderwork of black metal.

"What the hell is that?" Kincaid murmured.

GIZA PLATEAU D+ 3 Minutes

In the chamber outside the veil, Mualama turned his attention from the center to the corridor as the sound of boots tramping on the metal floor echoed against the walls.

Kaji stepped into the passageway with his hand held up. "You cannot trespass here."

"You are a fool, old man," replied a low voice that made the hair on the back of Mualama's neck stand on end.

Mualama stepped behind Kaji and saw a tall figure in black robes in front of a group of armed men. A hood

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hid the man's face. Near the back of the group, two men held a young Egyptian man captive.

"I have heard of you, Al-Iblis," Kaji said. "Even you cannot pass here."

"I have your son," Al-Iblis said. "The next in the line of the wedjat of the Highland of Aker. The last in the line." He waved his arm, and one of the commandos slid a knife across the young man's neck, bringing forth a gush of blood.

Kaji screamed something in Arabic and leapt forward, to be met with a swing of Al-Iblis's right arm. Mualama saw something flash in the light, a thin black blade that sprung from under the flowing sleeve. It sliced through Kaji's neck, and the wedjaf's head toppled from his body even as the dead man's hands reached for Al-Iblis. Slowly the body collapsed next to the head. Mualama stood still as the blade retracted, disappearing into Al-Iblis's sleeve.

"You are Professor Mualama." Al-Iblis made it a statement, not a question. He saw the medallion around Mualama's neck. "I gave that to Burton in Mecca long ago. But he betrayed me."

"That was over a hundred years ago!" Mualama said.

"I have walked the Earth before the dawn of your time," Al-Iblis said. "My names have been many and woven into legends on every land. You are the one who has been tracking the clues left by Sir Richard Francis Burton. Very smart. My man almost had you in Brazil. I have also tried to learn what Burton knew. I came close once, many years ago."

"You are Domeka?" Mualama remembered what he had been briefed on at Area 51.

"That was one of my names for a time," Al-Iblis allowed.

"What is your real name?" Mualama asked, trying to stall, wondering what Duncan was doing.

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Al-Iblis shifted his dark gaze past him, toward the veil. "Duncan is in there.

We will wait for her."

GOBI DESERT, MONGOLIA D+ 3 Minutes

Turcotte pushed the autodial for Duncan's SATPhone and listened to the phone ring and ring.

"Orders, Major?" Captain Billam was in front of Turcotte.

Turcotte shut off the phone. He knelt down and picked up a handful of sand, letting it pour through his fingers. He remembered landing in the desert on the other side of the world after destroying the Airlia talon fleet. Another desert, the same war, taken to another level, and now he was out of contact with Duncan.

"Load up," Turcotte ordered.

"Destination?" Billam asked as they headed toward the bouncer.

"Egypt."

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Deep under the Giza Plateau, Lisa Duncan placed her hands on the lid of the Ark of the Covenant. A surge ran through her body, a feeling of power. A red glow suffused both of the cherubim-sphinxes and extended over the lid, encompassing her.

She could no longer hear those outside of the veil that surrounded the Ark.

Her world was the Ark, the gold under her fingers. She grabbed the edge of the lid. She felt suspended in time, beyond the reach of everything she had ever known, not even of the Earth anymore. She lifted the cover. A golden glow blazed out, overpowering the red as the lid went up. It locked in place in the vertical, revealing the chamber inside.

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Robert Doherty is the pen name for a bestselling writer of military suspense novels. He is also the author of The Rock, Area 51, Area 51: The Reply, Area 51: The Mission, Area 51: The Grail, Area 51: Excalibur, Psychic Warrior, Psychic Warrior: Project Aura. Doherty is a West Point graduate, a former infantry officer, and Special Forces A-Team Commander. He currently lives in Boulder, Colorado.

For more information, you can visit his website at: www.nettrends.com/mayer