Titan Six Page 2

  Durangue and Wallace arrived at a large vault beneath the Rockies via a short maglev car. It was located directly below Mount Elbert, the highest peak in the Sawatch Range in Colorado. Both scientists wore sleeveless down vests due to the chilly, damp conditions beneath the earth.

  “It’s hard to imagine how much firepower must have been transported through these tunnels back in the day,” Durangue commented.

  “Not to mention the delivery systems,” said Wallace. “Like the rockets that could strike enemy targets on other continents if the President gave the green light to NORAD.”

  “Once more unto the breech,” Durangue said. “Looks like the nuclear chess game may have seen some opening gambits by India and Pakistan.”

  “Maybe poker is a better analogy,” Wallace countered, shivering from both the cold and the thought of a re-armed world. “I think Iran and North Korea want to be dealt into the hand, too.”

  “Let’s hope somebody raids the game,” Durangue said. “Meanwhile, let’s poke around and check out the specs on the vault. You could fit a ten-story building in here.”

  Wallace wandered to the far right of the space until she encountered solid rock. Weak tungsten lights did little to illuminate the area, but they allowed the pair to see a few tools scattered across the floor, as well as some candy bar wrappers.

  She ran her hands along the slightly moist walls as she paralleled the rock until her skin detected a different texture beneath her fingertips.

  Wood.

  Wallace grabbed the flashlight hanging from her utility belt — a high-intensity Maglite ML100— and played the beam over rotting gray planks.

  “Come take a look at this, Quentin,” Wallace called.

  Durangue and his partner examined the crisscrossing boards, dusty and coated with spider webs.

  “We’ve seen a few utility rooms, port-a-johns, and niches in caverns like this, but nothing that was boarded up,” Durange remarked. “Wanna take a look?”

  “Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” Wallace answered. “Our job is to survey the tunnels. Let’s earn our pay.”

  Durangue and Wallace pried away the wooden planks with claw hammers, rotting boards splitting and falling to the ground with almost no resistance. Wallace shone her Maglite into the gloom beyond, moving the beam rapidly from left to right.

  “A small tunnel,” she said, “but it sure as hell goes deep into the mountain.”

  “Ladies first,” Durangue said, motioning with his hand that his partner should commence the exploration.

  “Thanks,” she said, nervously eying Durangue. “You’re a real sweetheart.”

  The two scientists proceeded slowly into the tunnel, which was ten feet high and seven feet wide.

  “Why isn’t this tunnel on our maps?” Wallace asked.

  “I imagine for the same reason that it’s boarded up. The U.S. military is most definitely not a transparent organization.”

  They continued walking for a full minute before coming to an abrupt halt. The tunnel had turned into a corridor.

  “Must have led to somebody’s office,” Wallace said.

  “Somebody important. Sealed and completely off the grid.”

  They moved forward tentatively.

  “Place gives me the creeps,” Durangue said. “My skin feels all prickley, and . . . ”

  “And what?”

  “Like something’s not right.”

  Wallace didn’t contradict her partner. “Yeah, but we’ve come this far. This is the kind of thing they sent us to find.”

  They took another twenty paces.

  “Holy shit!” Durangue said.

  “This was a Top Secret area,” Wallace speculated. “Keypad access. Red telephones on the walls. Guards must have been posted.”

  A thin draft of cold air was coming from the other side of a sliding door.

  The pair looked at each other silently. Do we try to go in?

  “The seal’s broken,” Wallace said. “We might be able to force the door open. You take the top and I’ll take the bottom.”

  The door had apparently been stuck for over two decades in a partially open position. Its edge was two inches from the vertical groove it should have inhabited.

  Durangue and Wallace curled their fingers around the exposed edge and pulled. The sliding door didn’t budge.

  “The mechanism’s probably frozen,” Wallace said. “Again.”

  Grunting, the pair applied pressure a second time. The door slid back with a whoosh as the scientists fell to the floor.

  Climbing to their feet, Durangue and Wallace pointed their Maglites into the darkness ahead.

  Durangue swallowed hard as tears came to his eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Mama,” he said. “I should have come to see you more in that last year.”

  Wallace looked sideways. “Are you all right? What’s going on?”

  “Don’t you see her? It’s my mother.”

  “Just take a deep breath, pal. It’s stress. Don’t let your mind play tricks on you.”

  They advanced and then froze.

  “What the living hell is that?” Durangue asked.

  “Son of a bitch,” Wallace muttered.

  A metallic wall loomed before them. It was silver, but occasionally glowed blue before growing slightly transparent.

  Wallace took a slim rectangular form from her backpack and pulled up an antenna from its side. A red LED readout displayed constantly changing numbers.

  “This mother is huge!” Wallace exclaimed. “It’s a friggin’ cube. Two miles on every side.”

  Durangue had already moved closer to the enigma beneath Mount Elbert.

  “Do you hear that?” Durangue asked. “It’s like some kind of weird music.”

  He touched the surface of the cube, which turned blue, then orange. He faced his partner and smiled. “My mother says that everything’s okay. We’re safe.”

  Mesmerized, Wallace also stepped forward and touched the metallic surface with her index finger. “It’s warm! It feels . . . good! So very, very good.”

  Durangue and Wallace began to touch the cube in several places. They appeared ecstatic. Any fear they may have harbored had completely vanished.

  “I’m feeling a little static electricity,” Wallace said.

  “Me, too.”

  Both scientists suddenly stepped back from the cube.

  “What’s happening to you?” Wallace asked, looking at her fellow explorer.

  Durangue stared blankly at his questioner. His face was growing dark, was disintegrating.

  Wallace pressed her hands against her face. “My skin is on fire!” she said.

  “Someone, help!” they both cried in unison. “Help!”

  They sank to their knees, skin and organs falling from their bones in black, burning ashes. Two skulls beheld each other in disbelief as smoke rose from their deteriorating bodies.

  Strange symbols and pictures swam across the glowing surface of the cube before it returned to its silver, metallic appearance.

  A minute later, two skeletons lay on the floor of the cave in front of the cube, nothing more.

  The Armory

  Aboard the Alamiranta

  Dr. Grace Nguyen’s office and lab were in the Armory on Deck Three of the Alamiranta. The Armory was a nickname for the Advanced Research Projects Facility. It was originally formed by Catherine Caine, who had recruited top scientists from the Defense Department’s DARPA project, or the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency. Nguyen and her colleagues were continually developing cutting edge military technologies used by Titan Global.

  Saturo Aiko sat on the exam table of Grace Nguyen, who motioned for Hawkeye and Tank to enter the room.

  “You’re about to become part of Titan’s Enhanced Warrior Program,” Nguyen told Aiko.

  “She’s already pretty enhanced, if you ask me,” Tank said. He blushed. “I mean in the military sense. And, um, the martial arts. Stuff like that.”

  “You’re in s
uperior condition,” Nguyen acknowledged, “but we can enable you to take your skills to an even higher level. Are you ready?”

  “I suppose,” Aiko said.

  “Okay,” said Nguyen. “Let me give you a final rundown so you can give informed consent. BioMEMS stands for Biological Micro-electronic Mechanical Systems. It’s essentially molecular technology, where we inject nanobots the size of molecules into your bloodstream. Your physical endurance, as well as your senses, will be greatly heightened. The nanobots can remove harmful toxins, pathogens, and chemicals from your bloodstream. They can also repair damage at the cellular level and deliver a number of naturally occurring chemicals to any part of your body, such as endorphins, adrenaline, oxygen, clotting factor, neurotransmitters, nutrients, T-cells to fight infection, and hundreds more. We even have nanobots that can give you night vision.”

  “How are they activated?” Aiko inquired.

  “Some of them function just like your body’s immune system, which is to say they’re programmed to respond automatically. But they also transmit information to Titan Global operations centers, where our technicians can remotely activate them to meet a specific need during missions.”

  “You’ll feel different at first,” Hawkeye explained. “Maybe even invincible for the first few hours — and a little high — but you’ll grow used to the bots quickly.”

  Aiko thought for a few moments and nodded. “I’m ready,” she said. “These nanobots have obviously given Titan Six superior tactical advantages in the past when fighting my Dragons.”

  “Then roll up your sleeves everyone,” Dr. Nguyen said.”

  Frowning, Hawkeye and Tank glanced at each other and then at Nguyen.

  “We’ve already taken the injections,” Tank said. “Isn’t there a saying that you can have too much of a good thing?”

  Nguyen smiled. “You know as well as I, Tank, that we’re always making improvements. We now have nanobots that can protect against genetic mutations, whether naturally occurring or those induced by an enemy. Shooter, Gator, and Pyro have already received their boosters.”

  “I need to get a tattoo on my forearm that says ‘new and improved,’” Tank said. “You folks in the Armory must not get much sleep.”

  The three soldiers received their injections.

  “Hey, that one stung a bit,” Hawkeye complained.

  Aiko looked at Nguyen and rolled her eyes. “Men are such babies sometimes, Grace. They always — ”

  Aiko paused as she grew dizzy and fell from the exam table. Hawkeye and Tank grabbed her limp body and sat her in the nearest chair.

  “Wow,” Aiko said, shaking off the effects of the injection. “That syringe carries . . . ”

  She paused again, searching for the right English phrase.

  “One hell of a punch,” Hawkeye said with a grin.

  “Yes,” said Aiko. “A punch.”

  She took several deep breaths and stood. “Everything is sharper, clearer.”

  “You’ll have a second round of injections in a few hours,” Nguyen explained. “And more tomorrow. As Hawkeye said, your body will become acclimated over time.”

  Dr. Nguyen touched her index finger to her earpiece. “You’re all wanted by Mrs. Caine in the Gallery. I believe there might be a mission in the offing.”

  Hawkeye looked at the former Chinese commander and smiled. “You’re an official member of Titan Six now.”

  “I believe the correct phrase,” said Aiko, “is ‘I’m ready to rock and roll.’”

  Tank gave Aiko a thumbs-up. “Correct.”

  The Gallery

  Aboard the Alamiranta

  The Gallery, where Catherine Caine held most of her briefings, was an area of the ship that caused most people to gasp, as if they had just entered the Smithsonian. The expansive area was part library, part museum. It had three levels, connected by glass platforms, walkways, and stairs that seemed to float in the Gallery’s subdued bluish lighting. Even heads of state marveled at the cultural diversity of the collections, which represented Jurassic Period fossils as much as twentieth century art and technology — and everything in between.

  At the rear of the Gallery was a mahogany conference table, where Titan Six was now seated. Also present were Titan’s main support personnel. Dr. Joshua Ambergris was one of Titan Global’s chief scientists, a man who had made amazing discoveries in numerous areas of research. David Denton, nicknamed Quiz, was not only a computer specialist but a scientist in his own right. DJ was a beautiful technician and former German operative who sometimes accompanied Titan Six in the field. She was also Quiz’s sexy and aggressive lover. Touchdown was a soldier who usually manned the Ops Center aboard the Alamiranta during unit deployments and was the chief liaison between the ship and Titan combat units.

  Catherine Caine opened the briefing. In her early fifties, she was charming, intelligent, and quite beautiful. Her dark hair and high cheekbones crowned what was a remarkable figure for someone advancing through middle age.

  She was also a force to be reckoned with if a showdown of wills occurred.

  “Ladies and gentleman, I’ve been notified by the Department of the Interior that the Corps of Engineers lost contact with two of their scientists in a coast-to-coast tunnel system beneath the continental United States. The tunnels are especially extensive beneath mountain ranges, and they haven’t been used in twenty-one years.”

  “The tunnels were used to transport nuclear warheads and missiles until 1991, when Communism fell on hard times,” Dr. Ambergris stated.

  “The federal government doesn’t want to lose more personnel or possibly risk exposure of the classified underground network. Their aim is to make the system, called SURP, operational again, but knowledge of the system could be embarrassing at a time when the U.S. is trying to stop nuclear proliferation. They have therefore removed all personnel from the tunnel system.”

  “And requested Titan to do their recon for them?” Hawkeye asked.

  “Exactly,” said Caine. “Titan Six will explore an area beneath the Rocky Mountains, where contact was lost with Quentin Durangue and Beverly Wallace.”

  A picture of the Corps scientists was displayed on a widescreen viewer behind the conference table.

  “Your mission, as originally requested by the government, was to locate Durangue and Wallace, assess the condition of the SURP network, and to begin mapping large sections of the tunnel system. That mission has been modified somewhat.”

  “Here it comes,” said Tank. “Somebody’s discovered aliens beneath the Rockies.”

  Tank shifted uncomfortably in his chair as Caine raised her eyebrows. Had he come closer to the truth than his joke implied?

  “Titan engineers were dispatched a few days ago to the last known location of the scientists,” Caine continued. “This is what they found and began excavating.”

  A picture of a metallic cube appeared on the viewer. Three sides were now visible thanks to the excavation done by Titan Global.

  “We have no idea what it is,” Caine declared, “although some of our engineers have become very sick. The nature of their illness is unknown, which is why they’re being flown back to the Alamiranta for quarantine in Grace’s labs. Some are hallucinating. The one thing I can tell you with complete certainty is that our people on site have determined that the cube was not made by the United States when SURP was constructed during the Cold War. The metallic alloys on the surface of the cube are unknown.”

  “How could the government not know of the existence of such a huge structure in its own network?” Shooter asked.

  “Excellent question,” Caine said. “The cube was buried at the end of an offshoot tunnel and isn’t on any original schematic for SURP.”

  “Somebody knew it was there, but it wasn’t anyone in the United States government, as far as we can tell,” Dr. Ambergris said. “That’s the great mystery.”

  Hawkeye let out a low whistle. “Unknown technology right beneath the nose of the feds. Intriguin
g.”

  “To say the least,” Caine said. “Our engineers are already setting up a remote Operations Center beneath Mount Whitney in California on the edge of the Sierra Nevada Range. From there, Titan Six will travel underground to Colorado to a point beneath Mount Elbert. Titan engineers have repaired a maglev train formerly connecting the two areas. Insertion will be completely covert. We deploy tomorrow. Titan personnel, including Titan Six, will be flown to California via stealth helicopter.”

  “If we meet any Martians, I hope they’re friendly,” Hawkeye said.

  Tank chuckled. “Maybe this is where somebody kept those little dudes from Roswell.”

  Catherine Caine stood, but she wasn’t smiling. “I have no idea what you’re going to find. The cube may be benign. Or it may be one of the most dangerous challenges we’ve ever faced.”

  The meeting adjourned, with Tank’s moment of levity having passed quickly.

  Central Intelligence Agency

  Langley, Virginia

  Gwendolyn Moss was a former Titan Six operative who had taken a job with the CIA after marrying a man from Alexandria, Virginia. She still exchanged occasional emails with Catherine Caine, but her days of parachuting from planes and storming the palaces of dictators, machine gun in hand, were over. She found it hard to believe that her Titan Six handle had been Spider. She now had two lovely children, and she enjoyed her work with “the company,” and the CIA was known. She was currently assigned to sector G-7, which assessed nuclear capabilities of foreign governments and monitored imminent threats.

  The thirty-six-year-old Moss was walking through one of the hundreds of underground corridors beneath Langley when warning panels on the walls began to flash red. She rushed to the Situation Room on Level 3, where several viewers similar to IMAX screens displayed images of inbound missiles on a global map.

  The lights in Sit Room 1 were dimmed, making the DEFCON 4 screen all the more visible. Six birds were headed towards Washington and New York at an altitude of 30,000 feet. The warheads were represented by red triangles on the main board at the front of the large room. Personnel at dozens of stations listened to the info coming through headsets with studied, calm concentration. Two four-star generals walked around the room, overseeing the activity at various stations. Admiral Grady “Fletch” McManus sat in the command chair on the second tier of the Sit Room.