The Thirteenth Legion (A James Acton Thriller, #15) (James Acton Thrillers) (32 page)

Those
down the corridor weren’t so well equipped.

Screams
of agony erupted, Dawson leaping through the window as Leather and Spock
charged forward, Niner on their heels. Short bursts from Leather and Spock
silenced the cries and whimpers before Dawson had eyes on the targets.

“We need
to thin these guys out a bit.” He activated his comm. “Zero-Seven, Zero-One.
Detonate, I repeat, detonate.”

Outside the Denier Installation, Iceland

Atlas flicked the arming switch on the remote detonator. “Zero-Seven
to all teams, fire in the hole.” He pressed the trigger and a large explosion
tore through the night sky to their right, the two hostiles about to reach the
shore crying out in agony as their bodies were hurled backward. The security
lighting flickered for a moment, then returned, though dimmer than before.

Must
have switched to batteries.

Which
meant they had indeed just blown the primary power source.

“Open
fire,” signaled Atlas, the three sniper teams immediately eliminating the
targets in their assigned zones, the bodies dropping, no shots fired, their
positions still secure.

Something
suddenly appeared to their right, thirty feet from their position.

Shit!

“Take
cover!”

Atlas
dropped behind the rock, flattening himself against the ground as best he could
as sentry guns opened fire from all directions. He did a quick check on Moore
who gave him a thumbs up, he impressively calm.

These
SAS boys are the real deal.

Atlas
listened, there at least half a dozen, if not more, distinctive sets of gunfire
around them. He pressed his earpiece tighter. “Sniper Teams One and Three,
report.”

“Sniper
Team One, we’re good, over.”

“Team
Three good, over.”

Atlas
breathed a sigh of relief as he flipped onto his stomach, raising his head
slightly. It was difficult to tell where the weapon positions were, so close to
ground, the sound echoing off the rocky landscape, the ricochets loud on the
other side of the very rocks they were taking cover behind. He raised his head
a little more, getting a view behind them.

“Looks
like we’re clear behind.”

Moore pushed
himself up, resting his back against the rock. “Agreed.”

“We’ve
gotta take these damned things out.” Atlas poked his head up then immediately
ducked. “Okay. One at our two o’clock, ten meters out.” Atlas pulled a high
explosive grenade from his ammo belt and loaded the M203 40mm grenade launcher
attached to his MP5.

Moore smiled.
“Good thing you brought those.”

“BD was
a Boy Scout. As soon as he heard about the automated systems outside London, he
added them to the requisition order.”

“Be
prepared.” Moore shifted position. “I’ll spot, you shoot.”

Atlas
grinned. “Time for some fun.” He activated his comm. “Sniper Teams, use your HE
grenades and take those weapons out.” He closed his eyes for a moment,
picturing in his head exactly where the one weapon he had spotted was.

He
popped up, fired then dropped, the explosion shaking the ground as he reloaded,
a spray of pulverized rock covering the area around them, the sound almost a
light rain. He poked his head back up then dropped, a smile on his face at the
sight of the mangled wreckage.

“One
down.”

Moore smiled.
“Nice shooting.” He cocked an ear, trying to get a bead on another weapon as
the sound of the other teams taking action were heard. Moore’s head darted up,
quickly scanning left to right before dropping back down. “Eleven o’clock, thirty
meters, mounted on top of what I’m guessing isn’t a genuine rock.”

Atlas
nodded, repositioning himself, bullets still spraying over their heads at
random intervals as the weapons continued to unleash lead in all directions,
whoever had activated them clearly setting them to go beyond simple motion
detection. Atlas popped up, his eyes scanning his eleven o’clock, honing in on
the weapon.

He
dropped as it spun toward him, concentrated fire now on their position. Atlas
crawled over the rocks, grunting as a sharp stone made its presence known. The
gunfire continued on his former position, Moore hunkered down, tossing rocks in
the air to keep the motion sensors entertained.

Atlas
took a knee then raised his upper body, firing his round then dropping as the
explosion silenced the weapon, Moore catching his last rock and giving a thumbs
up.

And then
there was silence.

Atlas
slowly rose, quickly scanning the area then repeating, this time more slowly.

Nothing.

“Sniper
Teams, report.”

“Team
One, secure.”

“Team
Three, secure.”

“Keep
your eyes open. They may have deactivated the weapons just to draw us out. Keep
a watch for additional hostiles as well. They know we’re here so they’ll be
more careful.” He pointed toward where the guards had emerged and Moore nodded,
rising. “Team Two, moving in. Teams One and Three, provide cover.”

Control Center, Denier Installation, Iceland

“Advance another twenty millimeters.”

Acton
watched as Cooper glared at Chaney. “Sir, the power levels are reaching our capacity
to bleed off! It looks like the wiring to the microwave bleeders has been
damaged. There’s nowhere for the power to go!”

Chaney
ignored her. “Twenty millimeters. Now!”

“Martin,
we’ve already proven our theory! There’s no point in continuing!”

Acton
gasped, pushing Laura behind him as Chaney pulled a gun and aimed it at Cooper,
the poor women turning fifty shades of gray as she nearly collapsed.

“Another
twenty, or I shoot.”

Chaney’s
voice was cold, desperate.

Something
was wrong.

All the
readings clearly showed that something was happening. Energy was being
generated, the hum in the room was now loud enough to be annoying.

His
theory
was
proven.

So
why is he so insistent on keeping it going?

Acton
looked at Laura, her eyes holding the same questions he had.

Why, if
the experiment had succeeded, was Chaney so desperate to keep going and risk
all their lives?

He
glanced at the security monitors, the Delta team still advancing.

Toward
what, he had no idea, the layout of the facility a mystery.

He just
hoped it wasn’t a mystery to them.

Lower Level, Denier Installation, Iceland

Dawson came to a halt, peering around the corner of a four-way
junction. It was clear, though again there was no way to know which way to go
except forward.

Which
hadn’t worked so far, the facility a mystery.

“Okay,
any suggestions as to which way to go?”

Niner
pointed up at the ceiling. “I just assumed you were following those, like I
was.”

Dawson looked
up and shook his head, large bundles of cables and piping evident. He followed
them back to see them stretching the length of the hallway. They turned left at
their current position. He deadpanned Niner. “Just testing you.”

“Sure
you were.”

Dawson
grinned then pointed up. “Let’s assume these lead to the center of the action.”

Spock
crossed to the other side. “And that the professors are in the thick of it.”

Dawson
nodded. “If they’re not, whoever is there will know where the hell they are.”

He
stepped into the hall, heading down the corridor to their left. He raised his
weapon and took out a camera with a single shot.

No
point making it too easy for them.

Control Center, Denier Installation, Iceland

“Sir! We only have five minutes on the generator!”

Cooper
spun toward the tech who had just delivered what Acton sensed might be the final
nail in all their coffins. If the control room were to lose power, there might
be nothing that could stop the reaction occurring over their heads.

Cooper
leaned over the tech’s shoulder. “How is that possible? There should be hours
of power left.”

The tech
shook his head. “I don’t know. Something is drawing power at an incredible
rate.”

“What
could be causing that?”

“I don’t
know. It shouldn’t be happening. Beyond emergency lighting, all power is being
directed to the control room.”

Cooper
shook her head. “No, we’re generating power here, not using it. This makes no
sense.”

Acton
watched the events unfolding in front of them, the jubilation of earlier gone,
desperation now the rule of the day. Everyone knew the Delta team was getting
closer and apparently, something had happened outside as well.

There’s
only four on the monitor. More of them must be outside!

The more
the merrier.

And the
sooner the better.

Chaney
was off his rocker, insisting they continue to proceed with an experiment that
had proven they were right all along, everyone in the room clearly opposed.

Yet he
continued to hold his weapon on them, pacing in silence to the side.

Which
was odd.

Why
isn’t he questioning the latest thing to go wrong?

Acton
watched their captor, their friend—former friend—as he fidgeted and paced, his
eyes growing more desperate with each passing moment as he stared at the
readings then the skulls overhead.

It’s
as if he’s waiting for something to happen.

But
what? It had
already
happened. The skulls had generated their power, of
that there was no doubt, the gauges proved it. And the hum was exactly as
described in the ancient texts.

What
more does he need?