closer he could make out scars where the valiant efforts of York and Howe had left their mark, and he could hear the muffled clanging of repair work on the turbojet tubes directly above.
He nestled the ADSA against the rudder assembly and repeated the procedure he had carried out on the submersible less than an hour before. He extracted the second bubble-mine mesh and wrapped it round the rudder pintle, this time securing the ends with an additional strand beneath the screw. As he clicked on the detonator he glanced up and saw the wavering forms of two figures leaning against the starboard gunwale. Fortunately the oxygen rebreather produced none of the telltale exhaust of scuba gear, and he would not be seen against the inky depths.
He knew there was a chance that Katya and Costas were in the vessel above him. The explosive would cause massive damage to the screw and rudder but should be deflected by the armour plating of the hull. It was a risk he had to take. Yet again he mouthed a silent prayer.
He had gambled that the crew would be preoccupied with topside damage from the gun battle the day before and would already have carried out an inspection below the waterline. To minimize the risk of detection he opted to descend using the lateral thrusters rather than the buoyancy chamber, even though it meant draining the battery reserve.
A mere ten minutes after first sighting the hull, the ADSA disappeared as silently as it had come, dropping into the murky depths and stealing off without being seen or heard by any of the crew on
Using the terrain-mapper to navigate, Jack jetted half a kilometre towards the western shore of the island and found a cove out of sight of
He found a flat rock in two metres of water and cautiously broke surface. He locked the limbs of the ADSA and decoupled the neck ring. As he pushed open the helmet, he blinked furiously in the sunlight and gasped repeatedly, his lungs filling with fresh air for the first time since he had tumbled into the command module on
He hauled himself out and squatted on the rocky ledge. It was a brilliant summer afternoon, the sun glinting off the waves that lapped at his feet. Over the barren shore the precipitous slopes of the island rose ahead of him. Above the uppermost ridge he could see a plume of white framed against the sky.
He had no time to savour the relief of survival. The pain from his wound was searing his side and he knew he had no time to lose.
After quickly looking around to make sure he was alone, he removed the items he had brought from the weapons locker. He was still wearing the helicopter flight suit and shoved the detonator transceiver into one thigh pocket and the two Semtex charges into the other. He took out the Beretta, pulled the slide back to cock it and replaced it in his chest holster. He then extracted the SA80 and the three magazines, pushing one in place and sliding the other two into his waist pockets. After checking the sound suppressor, he pulled the bolt and slung it over his back.
He closed the helmet and gently toppled the ADSA back beneath the waves. It had been his lifesaver, his reminder that Costas had been with him in spirit. But now no amount of technology would guarantee his safe passage. It was up to him alone, to his physical stamina and strength of will.
He swivelled round to contemplate the rocky slope ahead.
“Payback time,” he muttered under his breath.
The jagged wall of rock loomed above Jack as he made his way inland. Between him and a plateau some eighty metres above were three terraces, each culminating in a razor-edged row of pinnacles and punctuated by fracture lines and gullies. The basalt was hard and coarse and gave an excellent grip. He had no alternative but to climb it.
He slung the SA80 more tightly and began to ascend a vertical chimney that rose the entire height of the first pitch. About halfway up, it narrowed and he inched higher with his legs braced on either side, eventually heaving himself onto a narrow platform some thirty metres above his start point. The second pitch was precipitous but straightforward, Jack’s ample reach proving advantageous as he worked his way up a series of finger-holds and ledges. He continued past the second row of pinnacles onto the third pitch until he reached a point just below the summit where an overhang jutted out almost a metre along the entire length of the cliff.
As he balanced spread-eagled against the rock face, he knew that any hesitation would only weaken his resolve. With his mind blank to the consequences of failure, he threw his right arm outwards and curled his fingers round the edge. Once he was certain of his hold he released his other hand and snapped it beside the first. He was hanging over eighty metres of vertiginous rock that would tear him to shreds if he fell. He began to swing his legs, slowly at first and then with increased momentum. On the second attempt he hooked his right leg over the top and scrambled to safety.
The scene that confronted him was breathtaking. He crouched down to recover his strength and looked out over a wilderness of solidified lava. Some two hundred metres to his right lay the cone of the volcano, its chimney spewing out a voluminous cloud of vapour that rose in a swirling column high into the sky. Partway down the cone he could see an unassuming low entrance above a rock-cut stairway that meandered down the saddle towards him and disappeared out of sight to the left. It was evidently an ancient route up the volcano on the outside, the one taken by Aslan and his men when they first reached the island.
The lesser peak some thirty metres ahead was a massive upwelling of jet-black lava. The top was level like a landing pad, an impression reinforced by the Kamov Ka-28 Helix parked in the middle. Round the perimeter Jack counted four black-clad figures, all armed with AK or Heckler & Koch submachine guns.
The most astonishing sight was the structure surrounding the helicopter. Encircling the platform was a ring of giant megaliths, upright stones at least three times the height of a man and two metres in girth. The stones were weathered from millennia of exposure but had once been finely finished. They were capped by massive flat slabs that formed a continuous circular lintel. Inside were five free-standing trilithons, each pair of stones with its lintel arranged in a horseshoe pattern that opened west towards the volcanic cone.
Jack realized with awe that he was looking at the precursor of Stonehenge. It was where the Atlanteans had observed the difference between the solar and lunar year they had seen tabulated in the passageway far below. The cone of the volcano was a sighting device, the position of the sun on either side indicating the season of the year. At the vernal and autumnal equinoxes the sun would appear to sink into the volcano, an event which would have affirmed the life-protecting powers of Atlantis.
Jack concentrated on using the stones to his tactical advantage. After flipping off the safety on the SA80 he slipped into a fissure that ran like a trench towards the platform. By sprinting in short bursts he quickly reached the nearest megalith and flattened against it. He cautiously peered round and saw the helicopter was unoccupied with no guard in sight. After pulling out the Semtex he darted forward through the inner horseshoe and placed one block in the exhaust and the other under the cockpit, clicking on the detonators as he did so.
He turned to leave and was suddenly face-to-face with a black-clad figure emerging from behind one of the trilithons. For a split second both men were immobilized by surprise. Jack was the first to react. Two thuds from the SA80 and the man dropped like a stone, killed instantly by the high-velocity 5.56 millimetre slugs that tore through his neck.
The clatter of the man’s weapon alerted the other men. Jack ran directly into their path as they converged on the helicopter. Before any of them could raise their weapons he emptied his entire remaining magazine in a tight arc from the hip. The bullets spattered and ricocheted off the rock and all three men fell sprawled over the ground.
He slammed in another magazine and plunged headlong down the ramp towards the stairway. He had gambled that the rest of Aslan’s men were either on
He reached the entrance at the top of the steps without any indication that he had been detected. The portal was more imposing close up, the opening wide enough for the processions that must have passed between the stone circle and the audience chamber. He could see the passageway veering off to the left in a dog-leg towards a distant source of light. After catching his breath, he levelled his weapon and cautiously advanced over the worn steps into the gloom beyond.
Ten metres on he rounded the corner and saw a hazy rectangle of light. Then the column of vapour came into
