Atlantis Rising: Chapter 12
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Homepage: Atlantis
Also see: Reaper's First Drop
07:01 Hours, March 11, 2015 (Military Calendar), Echo Team, in the Atlantian jungle bordering Firebase Bravo, Atlantis Mainland
"We should just kill them. Kill them all and be done with it."
Jason considered, but quickly shook his head. "They didn't kill us," he pointed out. "At the very least we owe them that."
"Their company killed hundreds of us." Achilles spat.
"They took hundreds prisoner," Jason reminded him. "They only killed a third of our troops. And anyways, they thought they were defending their turf-"
"Which they stole from us in the first place!" Achilles growled. He drew his sword and angled it at Matt's throat.
Matt sat back on his elbows and pushed the blade away. His strength was slowly returning.
Jason raised an arm to bar Achilles from stomping on Matt's face. "Hold up," he ordered in Atlantian.
Matt raised his chin defiantly. "Do what you want," he spat. "You'll get nothing from Echo Team." Daedalus translated this into Atlantian, and a look of amusement crossed Jason's face.
Jason spoke, and Daedalus translated it into English, "Oh, but it's not information we want." Jason motioned, and Achilles stepped forward and kicked Matt in the face.
Matt reeled backwards and fell to the ground, raising a small splash of mud. He raised himself back up on one elbow and spit to the side.
Jason withdrew a dagger and crouched to Matt's level, digging the blade into his skin. Matt didn't flinch, but tried instead to regain his feet. Jason motioned again.
This time the blow came to Matt's neck, and he coughed up blood, wiping away the mud with a hand.
"Echo One-two, come in. This is Overlord. Echo one-two, respond!"
The voice blared out from the speakers in Matt's helmet, a foot away in the mud. While Orca team was looking at the helmet, Matt snapped into action. He kicked out with a leg, hitting Achilles in the knee and twisting it to the side. He came up, blocked a hasty swipe from Alexander and drove his knee into the Atlantian's stomach, brought an elbow down onto the back of his head, before he was slammed in the chest by Heracles. The smart-gel cranked up several degrees as it dissipated the force of the blow.
Jason had him in a headlock the second he hit the ground. Matt kicked out diagonally, trying to wrench his head out of the stranglehold, but Jason was too strong. Matt flopped back to the ground and tried to leverage himself out with his feet, again to no avail. He lashed out with an arm, missed, and bruised his knuckles on the hard shoulder plate of Jason's stolen armor.
"Echo One-two, be advised, reinforcements are rolling in. ETA thirty seconds."
Jason looked at the headset. He barked, "Check it out."
Daedalus hurried over to the helmet and checked the GUSS.
"No lie. There's a larger American S&D team approaching, twenty seconds out."
"Team, scatter." Jason ordered.
"But, we can't just leave them here!"
"We need to get out of here. Once we make it to the river, we'll be impossible to track. This is our territory, and we know it inside out. The Americans will have a harder time getting through, especially on vehicles. But you're right; take this one-," Jason pointed to Matt, "And this one too." This time Jason motioned towards Jamie. "Leave the rest."
"Jason, I recommend we take these..." Daedalus said.
Jason smiled. "Get on the bikes and roll out. You've got five seconds."
Heracles lifted Jamie bodily and set him on a bike, clipping his legs to the magnetic restraints, and delivered an extra punch for good measure. Jason dragged Matt by his collar to the bike. Heracles helped Jason secure Matt to the bike, then they set off.
The rest of the team took the other two bikes and set off just after Jason.
By the time the American reinforcements found Malcolm, Holly, Scar, and Carter, the Atlantians were nowhere to be seen.
"Baseplate, this is Orca Team. We are approaching the recovery LZ, do not fire. We have commandeered American vehicles and are approaching fast from the North, five minutes out at our present velocity, over."
"Roger, Orca." The female radio operator responded, a note of surprise coloring her voice. "We didn't expect anyone to have made it out of the prison camps; what happened, over?"
Aaron struggled to hold onto the bike and operate the radio at the same time. "Baseplate we are currently traveling at more than 500 Stadion per hour through the jungle, a fully detailed report will be on your desk within the hour, over."
"Roger, Orca. Baseplate out."
Matt blinked groggily, sitting up straight. He only noticed they were on the bike after about twenty seconds, and then he jerked fully awake, his hands bound behind him and his legs clipped to the magnetic restraints.
Matt tapped Jamie with his shoulder, which was nearly the only movement he could make.
Jamie struggled awake. "HO-ly sh-" Jamie began, but Matt gave him a warning look.
Heracles, manning the weapons, turned partway around to look at them. After a moment he turned back, uninterested.
Off to the sides, the two other bikes kept pace. Aaron had just radioed something to their base. Matt secretly cheered. Assuming Ford was patrolling the nearby jungle with Predators, and the Predators had the latest electronic listening equipment, the Atlantian's radios, unshielded communications that they were, should register on the receivers and tell Ford exactly where they were.
Jason seemed to read his mind. "Don't bother hoping your friends will find you." He said over his shoulder from the driver's seat. "We've activated the scramblers and jammers - there's no way your general knows where you are in the middle of this jungle, nor will they ever find you."
Matt concentrated, then let the Spectrum view fall over his eyes as his vision jumped into shades of azure, and his eyes clouded over in blue. He probed Jamie's thoughts, and Jamie sent him a message, How are we going to get out of here?
I don't know. Matt responded. But I've got an idea. I'm going to flip the bike. Once it's sideways, the magnetic clamps will automatically disengage. You keep Jason and Heracles occupied with something long enough for us to disappear into the jungle, then we head back for base.
Sounds like a plan. Jamie said.
Probably won't work, but it's a plan. Matt agreed.
Ready? Matt asked. Then the world exploded.
To Matt, the missile appeared to be moving in slow motion. It took an eternity for the deadly explosive to land not five feet behind and to their right, then the bike was picked up by an invisible hand and sent flying through the air, the riders being throttled while they went and flames licking at their boots. Matt tumbled off as the magnetic clamps disengaged and fell into the lower branches of a tree. The bike, minus the occupants, went sailing into another tree.
Jamie's face collided with a branch as he fell through the air, sending him spinning in the other direction until another branch caught him in the middle. This time Jamie managed to grasp and hold onto the branch, gasping and his face bloody.
There was quiet for a moment, obscenely, then the steady beat of rotors, accompanied by the chatter of a machine gun. Matt covered his head and face as bright red traces dug into the soft ground, six unseen .50 cal bullets for every one blazing red, mere feet from the tree they were in.
"Come on we've got to move!" Matt shouted, grabbed Jamie, and leaped to the ground fifteen feet below. They landed awkwardly, then were both up and running away from the missiles. They never made it more than twenty feet; Matt was tagged in the chest with a quick burst of fire, and he fell to the ground. Jamie was quickly drilled in the knee and then the side. Matt looked up to see Spetsnaz troops materializing out of the jungle, and unlike at the psi training grounds, these guys were the real deal.
Three Spetsnaz troops advanced easily to the fallen pair, pointing their rifles casually.
A shadow solidified out of the darkness behind one of the three. The Spetsnaz trooper was dragged back into the jungle with a chilling scream, then was silent.
The other two troopers whirled around with rifles leveled. Another shadow appeared in the form of Achilles, who kicked out one soldier's knee and gutted him with a combat knife.
The last soldier backed into the middle of the clearing, sweeping his rifle in long arcs. Matt reached up and brought the soldier to the ground, pinned the trooper under his knee, and stuck a knife through the Russian's neck.
But the tide of battle was quickly swept away - the helo gunship circled back and pelted the jungle with bullets and rockets. Jason staggered out of the forest and fell to his knee streaming blood from his ears and spitting it from his mouth. His eardrums had been ruptured.
"We need to get out of here!" Matt yelled in Jason's ear. Jason nodded, but it was clear his mind was far away, still surprised by the ambush.
Matt ran in the direction of the deeper jungle, but a wall of bullets cut him off, followed quickly by a growing wall of flames from the incendiary bullets the helo was now using. The helo quickly boxed them in with fire, stalling their escape. Before Jamie could reduce the flames to ash with PK, a second Spetsnaz team walked through the flames, their full-body armor insulating them from the heat. Matt, Jamie, Heracles, and Jason, in possession of only scattered parts of armor, could not attempt the same.
The Spetsnaz appeared to want them alive, for they didn't fire, but instead advanced with batons extended. Matt shuddered as he watched electricity course through the instrument.
The four of them backed into a corner of the wall of flames, instantly beginning to sweat despite the thermal conditioning.
The first soldier swung at Matt. He ducked the baton and drove forward with his foot, but another soldier pinned it to the ground and stuck the baton in Matt's chest.
Agony erupted through his body, and Matt's back arched involuntarily. He fell to the ground after a moment, writhing as phantom electricity sparked through him.
Jason ducked his head, side-armed a swipe, and managed to get a punch in before he was tackled by three Spetsnaz and subdued.
Jamie caught a baton directly to his shoulder. Grinning savagely through the pain, Jamie stretched out an arm and pressed it into a soldier's exposed face in the moment that he had, then they both collapsed, jittering.
Heracles lasted the longest. With his greater size and reach, he knocked aside a baton, jammed his palm into the side of a soldier's head, and broke another's knee cap with a kick. After that, he was stung by a baton to his hip. Instead of falling, Heracles slammed a fist into the Russian's face, ducked, and brought one last soldier to the ground with another punch before he was taken out by five soldiers at once.
One of two Russian helos quickly swept in and landed, setting the foliage to a steady churn. The rotors spun down but remained moving, and two Spetsnaz teams jumped off, fanning out to the sides, quickly followed by a more imposing treeo. The leader of the three stepped forward, his boots sinking into the earthen crust with an ominous crunch, and surveyed his catch. Matt, semi-conscious, barely registered the decorations on the Russian's Battle Dress Uniform (BDU) that identified him as a Lieutenant. "I was hoping for all of them," The Lieutenant told his two personal commandos. "But four will have to do for now. Get them into the chopper. Dust-off in two."
The commando on the right nodded behind his full-face visor, the red-tinted eyes in the mask glowing. The two bent and collected the now-unconscious four, binding their hands and legs and tossing them into the helo.
Matt shuddered back to consciousness just as they were loading him into the waiting helo.
"Out of the frying pan..." He murmured to himself.
The Russian Lieutenant made a questioning face. Matt spit at him, grinning through bloody teeth when one of the commandos hammered him in the stomach.
"You must be a real hit at the parties." Matt informed the commando, biting back another grin as the commando's armor no doubt translated the sentence into Russian and put it into his ear. The commando's visage remained unchanged behind his mask.
The helo took off, lifting Matt, Jamie, Heracles, and Jason into the air. Matt concentrated, but Holly and Scar were too far away to make out through the spectrum.
The Russian Lieutenant calmly emptied and reloaded an ornate silver .44 Magnum. He then jammed the lethal end into the side of Matt's face, and said, "If I were you, I would rest up for the coming days. I have been given a great many questions for you to answer, and answer you will. If you don't, we can always find a means of some persuasion, be it electrical shock 'therapy' to loosen you up, or maybe a chemical agent."
"If you were me, then I would be you. And if I were you, I would find a rock somewhere and crawl under it. Because now you'll have the Atlantians storming into your base to recapture those two," Matt motioned at Jason and Heracles with his chin, "And an American strike force beating down the doors to get us two."
"You'll have to do better than that." The Lieutenant said, but his air of confidence was gone. "I don't scare so easily."
"Then keep this in mind. When I get loose, and don't doubt for a second that I will, I'll be coming for you. We'll see just how long you last when I inject your veins with boiling led."
A commando answered for the Lieutenant, stepping forward and ramming his fist into Matt's chest again. Matt coughed and spat blood.
"I'll be coming for you." Matt said, then rolled over and fell to sleep.
The next week was a series of incrementally more painful methods of torture. From the beginning, Matt was roused in the morning with an electric shock, and stumbling to bed, exhausted. He was then allowed four hours of sleep before it began all over again. The Russians used every trick in the book, new and old, and made up quite a few of their own. One memorable morning was spent having scorpions crawl across Matt's naked body. Their stingers couldn't kill him, but they injected a neuro-toxin that had Matt screaming in agony for the better part of four hours. And that was from one sting.
Electricity was a favorite. Tied to a chair, Matt got to watch Jamie, Jason, and Heracles being repeatedly shocked with 1,000 volts. The Lieutenant told him it would stop if Matt gave him seemingly random pieces of data, such as the force deployment and defense systems of the American camps, and then America's overall battle plan. Sometimes they strayed into Matt's own weapons and armor research, and sometimes to the topic of Dinosaurs. Matt's own armor had been confiscated, as well as that of the other three. When they left, they would have to destroy the data the Russians had collected from their technology.
Matt point-blank refused to tell them anything. To him, it was a pride issue. He didn't even consider telling them anything, because to do so would be a breaking of his pride, which was not about to happen. Therefore, he kept his mouth shut, other than repeating his name, rank, and and unit. Jamie on the other hand flat out pissed off the Russian interrogators.
The Russian Lieutenant, who Matt had decided to call Ivan, wanted more than just research. Occasionally they would try and wrestle the access codes to the GUSS mainframe, or the Firebase Bravo mainframe. They asked for callsigns, unit expertise. One entire afternoon was used trying to get airstrike authentication codes out of the two Americans. That day's form of torture had taken the shape of waterboarding.
"Seriously?" Matt asked as he saw the tub of water, and the sliding metal door that would fit over his head once it was in the tub. "Seriously? Talk about one of the least original tricks in the book. You've run out of ideas already? It's only been three days, and here you have us about to undergo the most cliched form of torture known to man. Ivan, you disappoint me."
"He's right Comrade this is pretty lame. Might I suggest branding next. Hurts like crap."
The commando Jamie had dubbed Alexi Gar-choke Throat-clear, or just Alexi for short, stepped forward and slammed Jamie's head into a wall. Despite him seeing stars for the next couple minutes, it was worth it. Ivan was becoming increasingly frustrated with their lack of progress.
"So, Alexi, how're things with you and Yurgey-" Jamie asked before getting dunked.
"Refreshing." He sputtered between coughs when they let him up.
"What are the Authentication codes." Ivan asked. Jamie just smiled at him. They dunked him again.
"The Codes" Jamie spit out his mouthfull of water and looked like he was about to talk. "It was something like, 'Go die in a hole and scre-'" And again he was dunked.
"MARCO" He yelled. When he came up he looked at Matt.
"Your supposed to say Polo. It's cheating if you don't." Jamie said, struggling to keep a straight face. Matt snickered, and Jamie burst out laughing as he was dunked again. "Note to self do not laugh while being water boarded." He smiled and was again dunked.
"Man I'm having so much fun I think I might throw up." He said, then he proceeded to puke on the Russian's boots."Oops."
Ivan kicked out with his foot, scattering it all across the torture chamber, unable to repress a disgusted expression.
"You obviously haven't been around kids much." Matt observed.
"No, that might be detrimental to their overall pysche." Jamie agreed. "The whole 'I hate America, let's torture these soldiers' attitude might not be the best for impressionable young children."
"I want the codes." Ivan growled through clenched teeth.
"When I woke up this morning I thought to myself, I want to have a totally cliche experience of being waterboarded by the Mother Lands finest, and now, here I am. Wonderfull day right Matt. Maybe later they can remove our kneecaps with hammers." Jamie responded. "Remember, I have the Shiatsu after this, oh and Matt ordered the mud bath."
The commandos, as ever, remained impassive to Jamie's remarks, but one of the regular infantry that was holding Jamie's head finally broke. "Why, you insolent little-" And drew back a fist.
"Yep that's me, well and pretty much the rest of America. Us little insolent not-nice names." Jamie nodded, watching with an amused expression as the soldier was restrained by his comrades and replaced with another guy, almost six and a half feet tall and three hundred pounds. "I think it was in a Tomb Raider movie, but, who is she?" Jamie demanded.
The giant grasped Jamie's head and threw it under the water, then slammed the cage door shut. This time they didn't let him up after the alotted two minutes, but left him struggling against the metal cage, his convulsions slowly growing weaker. Matt growled, suppressed rage building. But it would be useless. An entire line of Spetsnaz stood with batons bared, ready for him to make a move.
They finally let Jamie up, and he sputtered and coughed for the better part of a minute. "Alright, alright," Jamie stammered. He looked at Matt and winked. "I'll talk, I'll talk. But first I have a question."
Ivan stepped forward eagerly, and commanded, "Speak."
"What is a Shiatsu?" Jamie asked. Matt couldn't help but laugh at the look on Ivan's face. Ivan grabbed the back of Jamie's head and slammed it down on the floor twice before he pushed it back in the water. The next time Jamie came up he started singing the "Rubber Ducky" song. He continued this in between dunks for the next fifteen minutes.
But by the end of the day, their bravado had run out.
As far as they could tell, Alexi Gar-choke Throat-clear and the other commando, referred to as Yurgey-von-Banjoface, never removed their implacable masks. They wore the same, intimidating gear day-in and day-out, and they never seemed to be far away from each other. They never displayed weariness or frustration, or indeed any emotion besides an obscene pleasure in torturing the four, although they must not have gotten any more sleep than Matt.
Yuri had lots of questions for the Atlantian duo as well. Jason, for his part, didn't even bother repeating his name, rank, unit for Ivan, but rather went through everything in sullen silence through the day. But at night, he was a completely different man, going through possible escape routes and ambush locations in Atlantian, or so Heracles communicated. Because of their close proximity, Matt and Jamie were quickly picking up on Atlantian, and Heracles and Jason the reverse.
The first few nights, Jason kept entirely to Atlantian and made no attempt to include the two Americans. But by several days of intense physical and mental wear and tear, Jason began to address Matt and Jamie in his halting English, made somewhat easier by the American's limited array of Atlantian.
"Could we use the same trick twice?" Jason asked one night, five or six days into the process; it was difficult to keep track, as Ivan never let them see a clock, or a window for that matter, and the torture was omnipresent from day to day, with no change in schedule. The only mark of time was the four hours they were allotted to sleep, militantly upheld to the schedule. "Could we try and dig our way through the floor, like in your base?" Jason continued in a mixture of English and Atlantian.
Matt thumped the ground. "This is a special prison, built specifically for us, I think. We're on the ground level, the latrine hole is a single tube two feet in diameter all the way to the bottom, as far as I can tell through the Spectrum, and the walls are reinforced steel and concrete. No windows. Door is a solid slab of steel with no visible hinge from the inside."
"Well, couldn't you break it down with your Telekinesis or something?" Heracles asked reasonably.
"We could, but this whole room is basically a metal box, underground I would imagine, wired for sound, heat, bio and kinetic sensors, pretty much anything out of the ordinary will register immediately on Ivan's monitors. By the time Jamie and I broke the door down, we would have expended so much energy as to be unable to even walk, and even if you two carried us, which I doubt, a veritable flood of guards would be marching down the hallway. Remember, to even get out of the building, we would have to walk through the checkpoint."
"But you could just smash down the w-" Heracles continued, then cut off abruptly as Matt made a subtle slashing motion across his throat. But he nodded.
Jason understood. "Speak as much you can in Atlantian." He told Heracles. "If they've got this box wired for sound, they've no doubt got translation routines running on the recordings of everything we say."
Matt nodded again, even though he had only caught about every third word out of the speech.
"Matt and Jamie will have to open a hole in the wall. After that, you and I are going to dig us out to the surface."
Heracles smiled, holding a spoon in each hand. "So, same trick as last time."
"Indeed." Jason murmured, then layed down. "It will take a few days of little or no sleep, but indeed."
The next day was more of the same, but with something fresh at the end. Matt and Jamie were shot in the arm with a drug. Ivan informed them that the drug would temporarily block their ability to use psi. Before that, Ivan hadn't bothered, or so Matt assumed, because the entire cell was wired with every monitoring device known to man. They would have known in an instant if Matt or Jamie had used psi.
But this time, just for cruelty, the final stretch of hallway to their cell and the waiting beds was covered in broken glass. Their boots were removed, and Ivan personally put four steaming trays of food into their cell.
Matt looked at Ivan and mouthed some rather offensive curses. Yurgey slammed into Matt's back, sending him sprawling along the length of glass-covered hall. Matt rose with shards of razor-sharp glass embedded in the side of his face and body.
"That's it. I've had enough of this." Matt said as Yurgey stepped forward to slam him again.
Matt tensed himself, then jerked to one side, left his leg extended, and heaved Yurgey into the hallway.
Alexi approached from the other side, swinging a rifle. Matt ducked the swing and let his rage fuel a punch that knocked Alexi five feet to the side.
Yurgey struggled to stand, then reached down and unbelted his pistol. Before he could raise it and take aim, Jamie grabbed a shard of glass and whipped it around, grunting with satisfaction as it stuck through Yurgey's hand. Heracles hurled another piece - this one stuck halfway through Yurgey's visor and cut the pale-white flesh beneath.
Jason and Matt together went to town on Alexi, taking it into turns to smash his chest or face against the wall, cut his leg out from under him, and repeatedly pound the Russian. Once Alexi was on the ground, Matt sat on his chest and threw punch after bloody punch at Alexi's face; Matt's knuckles had burst with the constant impacts.
When it looked like Echo and Orca might be home free, and be able to escape before reinforcements came, a sudden electric jolt traveled all the way from Matt's toes, up his spine, and into the base of his skull.
Matt was sent writhing to the ground. Looking to the limits of his vision, he saw Jason flop to the floor next to him, similarly afflicted.
Ivan strode across the broken glass, his thick combat boots treading right over the shards, and rammed a fist into Matt's face.
"I will teach you to stage a revolt." He picked Matt up by his collar and slammed him twice into the wall, then threw him into the corridor and broken glass again.
Matt landed, skidding through the razor shards. He did not rise.
Jason crawled to a knee and threw a punch, but Ivan turned and caught it, then kicked out with his foot and nailed Jason in the stomach.
A troop of guards had now appeared, and they proceeded to pound Heracles and Jamie into submission with a flood of electric stun batons and Spetsnaz uniforms.
Matt rose slowly to his feet. He wasn't going to let it end like this; they had been so close to escape, escape from the grueling torments of the Russian prison camp. For all their bravado and jokes, the torture was actually taking a toll.
Ivan advanced on Matt again, holding a remote control in his hand. He pressed a button, and another electric shock went through Matt's body. Matt writhed and sank to a knee, looked up, and threw a punch.
Ivan was caught unprepared, but he managed to roll with the punch and come around swinging, his other hand fumbling for his remote. Matt caught Ivan's hand with his knee, then raised his knee higher and knocked the remote control out of Ivan's hand. Matt planted his foot, wincing as the shards of glass embedded themselves into his foot, spun around, planted his other foot, and whirled, striking Ivan in the chest. Ivan flew backwards and landed along the corridor, more shards of glass penetrating the Russian's thin BDU.
Jason struggled to his feet, immediately having to fend off several Spetsnaz troops as he worked his way towards Jamie and Heracles.
Matt quickly followed suit, fighting through to where Heracles and Jamie were holding their own against a squad of Spetsnaz. Under their combined might, and a little of Matt and Jamie's psi-tweaks to level the playing field, the two Spetsnaz squads were quickly subdued.
"Alright, let's go, exit's this way. We've got to get these collars off, get some boots on, and grab some weapons before the next squads come running. And someone smash that remote."
Jason plucked the fallen remote from Ivan's unresisting form, then pressed one of several buttons. The collars popped off with a pneumatic hiss.
"How did you know that wasn't the 'electrocute' button?" Jamie demanded.
"I didn't." Jason admitted. "Come on, let's go."
Matt picked out most of the broken glass from his bleeding feet, jammed them into a pair of size twelve combat boots, and grabbed a soldier's baton, sidearm, and helmet. For good measure, he went around and shocked Alexi, Yurgey, and Ivan with the baton, then pilfered Ivan's .44 Magnum, checking that it had a fresh load.
The tramp of armored boots echoed through the hallway.
"Come on, we've got to move!" Matt yelled. The four of them raced down the corridor, swinging around corners and smashing through doors. Matt swung one corner, following the glowing exit signs, seeming odd written in Russian, and came face-to-face with a pair of Spetsnaz. Without pausing, Matt leveled the .44 and snapped off three shots. The two Russians fell, bleeding.
Jason came around and dropped another soldier that had just burst out a door at the far end of the hallway, taking the man at 40 yards with two shots.
"Nice shooting." Jamie acknowledged, then they were moving again.
They eventually found the door, after taking out four more scattered Russians as they ran out of various doors, climbing three stories up a staircase, and avoiding the larger squads of Russians that came running down the maze of corridors.
Ahead of them was the exit door. As Matt had feared, it wasn't simply another metal industrial door with a regular door knob. It was a full-blown blast door, complete with a guardhouse manned by a squad of Russians. Jamie muttered a curse, met Matt's gaze, and then the four of them dropped to the ground simaltaneously. Heracles and Jason, at the sides, opened up with their handguns, killing two of the six and beginning to scatter the rest. But the remaining Russians never made it to cover.
Matt raised a glowing hand, his eyes shining iridescent blue, and watched as a concrete pillar exploded into base-ball sized fragments. These he sent shooting in every direction, immediately killing one soldier and wounding two others. Jamie didn't bother with anything so fancy - he just lit one Russian up immediately with PK and hurled a second one against a wall with TK.
Matt stood, hand still raised, and slammed one to the wall and then the ground hard enough that the Russian broke his neck. The last surviving Russian he caught in a classic Star Wars choke hold, pinned to the wall, the Russian's feet kicking feebly as his hands tried to pry apart the inexorable force tightening around his neck.
"Whoa, that actually works." Jamie laughed.
"Open the door." Matt commanded imperiously.
The soldier managed to barely bob his head. Matt released the pressure, and the Russian bent to swipe an access card. Jamie flicked his fingers, and the Russian collided with another wall, either unconscious or prudently faking.
The four of them jogged through the door into the bright sunlight of a Russian encampment. Not a large one, but big enough to house the prison camp, a command center, a barracks, a motor pool, and another structure that looked like a lab.
"We've got to take out whatever research the Russians managed to gather on our armor and tech!" Matt screamed over the background explosions as they sought cover behind the concrete barriers, three more squads of Russians having run out of the barracks and opened fire.
"Can't you call in air support to destroy the base later?" Jason yelled back.
"I don't see how, unless you have a way to find this place again."
"Lemme see the helmet. I can mark it in the Russian's HUD." Jamie interjected.
"I'll do that, you keep the Ruskies back. I'm the techie, remember?"
"Yeah, and I'm the lucky leprechaun that could walk through a minefield and not even know until the guy next to me explodes into chunks and takes a dirt nap." Jamie shot back.
"Good point. You hit the buttons, We'll distract the Russians."
It took about three minutes. Matt wrenched the access panel off the blast door and tore the wires out, preventing anyone from opening the door from inside or out while the two Atlantians covered them.
"I got it!" Jamie finally yelled. "I've got a blinking marker on this spot. If we had another couple minutes, I might actually be able to ask for a Russian air strike to take out their own base, but let's not push it."
"Good idea. Alright, I'll raise a smokescreen. Get the soldiers to duck their heads for a moment, then we'll run, straight for the gate. Break it down as we go." Matt yelled.
"On your mark." Jason nodded.
"Ready - mark!" Matt shouted, then pulverized the top layer of the concrete courtyard and lifted the shard-like fragments, effectively creating a smokescreen.
Jamie rolled his eyes and pulled one smoke grenade and one flash-bang from his stolen assault vest and lobbed them into the courtyard.
"That could work too." Matt said, then they were sprinting for the gate. As they went, Jamie lifted a hand and blasted the door from its hinges.
"Sweet!" Heracles crowed.
Jamie stumbled and clutched at his head, but then Matt had him, and they were gone, out into the relative safety of the jungle.
"Alright. Here's the plan. We're going for the nearest settlement, which just happens to be an Atlantian firebase. It's only about sixty four stadion from here." Jason murmured.
"Sixty four what?" Matt hissed back. They were sitting hunched up in the branches of a great tree, far away in the jungle from the Russian encampment. To their surprise, they had discovered that the Russian HUD did not, in fact, have a compass. Or any navigation device for that matter.
"This is a serious design flaw." Matt had complained in his tinkering. "So, what, their soldiers are never expected to go anywhere? Like, how are they supposed to get anywhere if they don't even have a fricken compass."
"About six miles from here." Jason continued. "One stadion is about five hundred feet."
"Oh. Right." Matt said.
"Right. Six miles through a dinosaur-infested jungle. Good plan." Jamie nodded sarcastically.
"Well, do you have a better idea? The Russian comm. is encrypted, and they've not doubt locked the helmets by now." Jason retorted.
"And it's not as if no one ever goes through the jungle." Heracles contributed in his deep bass rumble. "Atlantians do it all the time, for sport."
"Well we ain't Atlantians. We have no weapons, no armor, no tech, nothing but the boots on our feet and the clothes we're wearing, and we're supposed to hike six miles through the prehistoric jungle."
"Then you can stay here. Heracles and I are moving out."
Matt looked at Jamie. "They do have a point. Where else would we go?"
Jamie shook his head. "I still don't like it. But let's go, before we lose the two Atlantians that consider it fun to go toe-to-toe with dinosaurs and whatever else is in this fricken jungle."
Matt nodded. "We're coming." He informed Jason.
"Alright then, follow us. And try to keep up."
Matt grinned. This would be fun.
The Atlantians climbed partway down the tree, then dropped from a height of fifteen feet into the springy forest floor below. Matt and Jamie followed, then the four of them set off at a brisk walk.
They hiked for about four minutes, stretched out in a single file line with Heracles on point, before Matt sidled up to Jason and said, "Shouldn't we find some sort of weapons? Is there some kind of Atlantian flint around here that we can tie onto a stick or something?"
"There's a certain kind of tree somewhere around here that has springy branches on the bottom, and harder branches up top. When we find it, we're going to make spears out of the hard branches, and try our luck with some bows from the other ones."
"What do we use as a string?" Matt asked. "And don't bows usually take a day or two to dry?"
"Not this wood. We leave the bark on, and that helps the snap. For string, we can use the vines that grow on the same tree. Provided the vines are still alive, they'll be more than strong enough."
"Atlantian ingenuity at work." Jamie muttered.
"Quite. It's somewhere around here. Fan out, and if you see anything moving in the jungle, back up very slowly, and watch your flanks. Raptors like to attack from the sides and back."
"I knew that." Matt murmured. "Should we go in pairs?"
"I don't see the point. We mine as well just go all together as go in pairs, which defeats the purpose. Just don't go too far off, and if you find the tree, yell for us."
Matt took one direction and followed it, stumbling off the relatively clear game trail they had been following into the denser, clotted jungle itself.
The odd thing was that there weren't all that many trees. Spaces of twenty to forty feet separated each trunk, but the trunks that were there were massive. Trees stretched one hundred and sometimes one hundred fifty feet into the sky. Here and there, patches of sunlight broke through the canopy, and wherever it landed on the forest floor, a great clump of lower shrubbery and weird, grassy stalks grew in abundance. Matt remembered that in the rainforest, trees and plants had to fight for space and light. This was a good example.
Matt stumbled around for several minutes, before coming suddenly into a clearing. An absolutely gigantic tree shot upwards, dwarfing all others in its vicinity. The tree's arching branches soaked up every square inch of sunlight from above, rendering the clearing in abnormally dark shadows. Vines covered the tree, and branches shot out at all levels, almost perpendicular to the ground.
"Hey, guys! Think I found it!" Matt shouted into the forest.
Jason's voice sounded, distantly. "Okay! We'll come to you!"
"Alright! It's this way!" Matt yelled back.
Suddenly, the hair on the back of Matt's neck stood straight. Matt whirled around and saw only jungle.
Something had been there. Matt could feel it, a kind of prehistoric Neanderthal urge that told him to fight or flee.
Matt tensed, settling into a half-crouched position, his senses hyper-alert, and scanned the jungle. Nothing out of the ordinary.
After thirty seconds, Matt uncrouched a little, looking around.
That was when the Raptor struck.
Matt had no idea what it was or where it came from, but the next thing he knew, he had been tackled to the ground with an enormous weight digging into his chest. A three-toed claw rested just below his neck, the center claw twice as large as the others. The size of combat knives.
Matt looked up as the creature screamed, sending a chill traveling down his spine. The Velociraptor's snout was horribly large and filled with serrated teeth. The dinosaur's arms were specially designed for gutting, and its legs for slashing. This Raptor had him dead-to-rights.
Matt let his pumping adrenaline fuel a TK blast that took the Raptor directly in the chest. A blast like that, which would have toppled a man, merely made the creature stumble backwards and squawk.
The forest erupted in a cacaphony of high-pitched squeals and growls. Four Raptors stepped out of the surrounding brush, encircling Matt in a deadly formation as the now five killing machines debated what to do with him.
Matt didn't wait for them. He jumped, grabbed a low-hanging vine, swung his legs up, and started climbing.
The Raptors squawked again. Matt heard Jamie calling out. "Get away!" Matt shouted back. "Get away! Raptors!"
Matt climbed higher as two Raptors jumped eight feet in the air, snapping at his toes. Insanely, this reminded him so much of Jurassic park, he almost fell to the ground, laughing giddily. He was in major shock.
Matt reached for the next branch, slipped, and swung around on his legs, his body dangling in space. A Raptor jumped, and Matt instinctively drew back a fist and nailed the dino in the face.
Then Heracles was there, at the edge of the clearing. "Your sidearm!" He shouted, cupping both hands around his mouth. Matt reached to his hip and drew the Russian handgun and fired at a Raptor. The thing squawked and jumped aside as a bullet nicked its hip. Two more shots followed, directly in its back. The Raptor screamed and arched its spine.
Heracles jumped opened fire on the Raptor even as the four others rushed him, chasing him up a tree.
Matt slotted a new magazine into the gun and aimed carefully, still dangling upside down. As Heracles distracted the Raptors, Matt lined up a killing shot and drilled six rounds into the injured Raptor's skull.
It cried horribly as it flopped over, writhing. Matt shot it in the side of the head, and it grew still.
After a brief hesitation, the four remaining Raptors circled up and dashed off into the jungle just as Jamie and Jason materialized through the brush.
"What-" Matt huffed. "-the - hell."
"Raptors." Jason muttered. "Scariest thing the jungle has to offer." He proceeded to indulge himself in several curses as Matt swung shakily down from the tree, jittery from adrenaline high.
"Let's get moving." Heracles said.
"Right. Tree. That's the one." Jason nodded. He reached up, grasped a branch, and twisted it loose, snapping it at the base. Jason lifted a rock from the ground, climbed partway into a tree, and started to saw the stick in half. Matt, Jamie, and Heracles followed his lead, Heracles pointing out to the two Americans a flint-like rock that developed a razor edge when it flaked.
Within an hour, the four of them each had a five-foot spear, the head bound with strips of vine, and a heavy bow with five arrows, also bound with vines.
"Try to conserve ammunition for your guns if you can." Jason told them. "We'll need it if we run into a Rex or something bigger."
"Bigger than a Rex?" Matt asked.
"You better believe it." Jason responded. "Most of the big ones live in and around the plains, though. We're in the heart of the jungle, and the planes are on the periphery. Here there be smaller things. But be careful. The jungle has a lot more to throw at us than Raptors, so keep a sharp eye."
"You got it." Jamie muttered, checking the tensity of his string.
"Loud noises will attract things. Keep the shouting and yelling to a minimum, and stay in the light. Don't wander off into dark shadow - there're things that would dearly love to make a snack of you."
"Oh. Is that all?" Matt asked.
"Well, the poisonous bugs and crawlers hang out in the deep shade, Microraptors float around everywhere, there's a crapload of compsognathus scavengers wandering the trees, and then there are the maurading bands of Raptors. Not to mention the things that can climb trees." Jason replied.
"What?"
"You have no name for them, as they don't exist anywhere besides Atlantis. Basically, they slither around on four legs, have teeth and claws like a Raptor, and can jump fifteen feet off a tree. Don't get close to one."
"Right."
"Let's go."
The four of them slid down from the trees, hefting their new weaponry, and followed Jason as he set off towards the Atlantian outpost. "Oh! Almost forgot." Jason stopped abruptly. "There are carniverous Pterodactyls that sometimes roost in the canopy. They won't attack unless they're hungry or you invade their territory, so if you see one, tell us and back up slowly."
"Jeez." Matt spit into the soft green ground. "You make it sound like a walk in the park."
"Like I said, Atlantians sometimes do this for fun." Jason whispered back. "Although significantly better armed and armored."
"That's encouraging. Now can we keep going before you give me a heart attack?" Jamie asked.
"Oh. Sure." Jason set off again.
"Admiral Ford, you have a priority call from the White House. The President of the United States wants to know about the status of the rescue operation."
"Thankyou, Lieutenant." Ford grabbed the headset, fit it into his ear, and lowered the TV screen over his left eye. "Yes, Mr. President, how can I help?"
"I don't have much time to chat, Ford, so let's get right to it. I understand Firebase Bravo has recently weathered an attack of Atlantian origins, and taken a number of Atlantians prisoner."
"That is correct, sir." Ford replied. He could see where this was leading.
"I also have been told that shortly after the Atlantian strike force was taken prisoner, the Atlantian government reopened negotiations for a cease-fire between our nations. Until last week, negotiations were theoretical. Last week, you had a prison break, and a number of Atlantian prisoners escaped."
"The escapees are all part of an integral combat squad. Judging by the markings on their armor and equipment, it seems they are known as Orca Team, which would infer that all Atlantian squads are named after various animals. With this brought to light, we have reorganized the prisoners by squad."
"Indeed. Now, what I need to know is, who fired first? How far up the command chain was the escaped squad? And who is their commanding officer?"
Ford took a deep breath. "Sir, we questioned a number of Atlantians. From their speech, we have begun to compile a database of Atlantian language. We currently have a number of analyzers working to interpret their speech to our soldiers and among themselves, via hidden mics and cameras. We have determined their speech has close relations to Ancient Greek. However, their language also has elements from most of the major languages spoken today. Or more accurately, ours has elements from theirs. From their responses, it is believed that the escaped squad was the commanding squad. Its leader, who identified himself as Jason, was the commanding officer on the assault."
"Acknowledged, Admiral. As for my first question?"
"Sir, I wish we could tell you the Atlantians fired first. The truth is the Atlantians were acting on outdated intel. They believed that our firebase, which was only recently liberated from the European Federation and expanded, belonged to the Euros. The Atlantian strike force was sent to eradicate the Euro camp, but upon arriving, they saw our American isignias and symbols. They were in the middle of pulling out when one of our perimeter gunners got jumpy, spotted one, and opened fire. From their, events quickly escalated into an all-our battle."
"Casualty report?"
"Out of the 1,000 troops stationed here, forty seven dead and another hundred thirteen wounded. The Atlantian strike force, consisting of three hundred men, sixty eight dead and fifty one wounded, one hundred forty six captured, and the remaining forty five missing, presumed having escaped back into the jungle."
"Alright, Admiral. I have conferred with the Atlantian general in charge of their Northern front, and he in turn has relayed my communications to the Atlantian Pharaoh. In light of your information, I am fairly confident we can arrange a cease-fire, if not a full alliance, with their nation. Now, I understand several of your Echo Team have been kidnapped by the escaping Atlantians?"
"Yes sir. We have search teams going out into the jungle every hour on the hour, and gunship pairs running fly-overs into the jungle every half hour. We have received no word, and our patrols have come up empty."
"Keep searching, Admiral. The Marine Shock Forces are the best. They will have survived, against all odds. Bring them home. Be sure and contact me the second you find them and return to base."
Admiral Ford nodded. "'Sir!" He muttered distractedly, then ended the comm.
"Where are they?" Ford asked the Ops Center in general, swiveling around in his chair to face an array of electronics and controls. "Where are they?"
Matt groaned, clutching his head, and stumbled.
Jason caught his elbow. "Come on, don't stop. We're almost there."
"Easy for you to say. You haven't been tearing your head apart with frequent psi usage." Matt grumbled. He straightened, accepted Jason's offered canteen, and drank deeply before returning it. "Why is it, the last mile is always the longest? How many times can we say, 'We're almost there!' before we actually get there?"
"It's literally on the other side of this hill." Heracles huffed. Even the two Atlantians were winded. Since having fashioned their crude, if effective, weaponry, they had run into another pack of marauding raptors, two swarms of darting, turkey-sized Compys, a pair of Pterodactyls that looked far too heavy to fly, and an Ankylosaurus. The armored, prehistoric tank trundled along through the jungle oblivious to the four humans that were invading its natural habitat. The Atlantians had automatically given the creature a wide berth - the Americans were quick to follow their lead. Matt had played enough Jurassic Park video games and read enough on Ankylosaurid anatomy to know the Anky would be close to impossible to take down with their limited weaponry.
"Aww, why'd you have to say that." Jamie moaned. "Every time you say, 'it's just over the next hill' or 'it's just around the next bend', it moves another hill or another bend down. Everyone just keep your trap shut and we'll get their eventually."
"Alright, let's get moving." Jason said, pocketing the stolen Russian canteen. "I really hope we get their before we run into a larger carnivore."
"Such as?" Matt asked.
"Tyrannosaurs rarely come this far into the jungle. There's generally not enough space for them in the denser jungle, and they don't like having to navigate between trees. Ceratosaurs are big enough to put us in a really bad spot if we see one, or more likely a pair, but small enough to run through the wood comfortably. That'll be our biggest threat behind the Raptors."
"But before the venomous creepy crawlers, snakes, and twenty-foot alligators." Matt rationalized.
"Pretty much."
"Twenty foot alligators?" Jamie coughed, spitting out a stream of water.
"Dude, prehistoric Atlantian alligators. I'm surprised it wasn't more like fifty, the way our luck is. I mean, Raptors went from three foot to six here. Crocs and gators would do the same, I'm assuming." Matt pointed out.
"We really need to get moving." Jason said, jerking a thumb in the direction of a slight thinning of the trees.
"I like slogging through dinosaur infested jungles." Matt mumbled, setting out again.
"I thought you Marines were supposed to be tough." Jason taunted.
"We are tough." Jamie responded. "But we're also sensitive."
Matt smirked, sinking back into the steady rhythm of the march. One foot in front of the other, in front of the other, in front of the other, over and over. Using his spear as a staff, Matt picked his way through the tangled paths, following Jason, who was in the lead. The monotonous beat quickly lulled him into a false sense of safety.
"We're here." Jason said after about five minutes. Matt looked up, his concentration broken. He didn't see anything. No clearing in the trees, no structures. He spun full circle, taking everything in. In direct defiance of Matt's expectations, the trees here were taller, truly massive. The usual competing hip-level shrubbery was oddly nonexistent. Exposed roots cupped the base of the trees, creating the perfect shelter, but nothing was there.
"What?" Jamie half-laughed. "There's nothing here. What is this?"
At a slight sound above him, Matt's head snapped further up. He inhaled sharply, causing Jamie to look over.
"It's not just me, right? Tell me no one else sees anything."
Matt tapped Jamie on the arm. "Put your hands high, and don't say anything."
"Wha-?" Jamie asked, half-smiling suspiciously, as if he suspected a trick. "What's - Ho-lee s-"
The clear peel of a charging handle being yanked echoed ominously through the jungle. Then another, and another, and another. The whole forest rang with the metallic grinding sound of ammo cylinders being slotted into place, rifles being cocked, and five-barreled Gatling guns warming up to speed.
The whole cleared section jungle was built up with giant platforms, suspended thirty to fifty feet into the air, built around the massive trees. Square and triangular platforms extended at differing levels. They were all connected by sturdy walkways that stretched between trees, some enclosed, some not. Outcroppings on the platforms allowed room for individual Gatling gun crews. Lining the walkways and platforms were dozens of Atlantian soldiers, wearing specialized armor colored jungle green and black, with actual plant clippings and moss secured into their prominent plates to break up their humanoid figure.
A chain-mesh net jumped out of the ground, defining the cleared section with a metal border. The Americans were now trapped in the heart of the Atlantian's den.
Shadows shifted under the roots. Atlantians cast off hooded cloaks with camouflage detail so perfect, they had been virtually invisible to Matt in the faint half-light. Like Atlantian Ghilli suits, Matt thought. Several soldiers jumped forward and pulled camouflaged tarps off of thirty-six barreled organ guns. Soldiers dropped to the ground on ropes from the platforms, surrounding Matt and Jamie. Out of a sunken ramp leapt two Atlantian fast attack craft, followed by a circular, heavily armored Atlantian tank.
"Jeez. Shock n' Awe much. I'm about to piss my pants." Jamie muttered, holding his hands at head height.
"Yeah, no kidding. And it looks like Leonardo Da Vinci made a back-in-time visit to these guys. Those organ guns, and that tank? Da Vinci designs. I wouldn't be surprised if they found a way to make his aerial screw helicopter and SCUBA gear work, too."
"Neat. Let's just hope they don't decide that they're highly impressive tech deserves a trial run on a couple of unsuspecting Americans."
"True dat." Matt said, lifting his hands higher as an Atlantian in more ornate camouflaged armor leaned over a low-hanging platform and brought a bull-horn up to his mouth.
"This is General Odysseus of His Majesty's Marines. As you can see, you are completely surrounded. Drop your weapons. You will proceed to the marker for processing. Any hostile movements and you will be shot." A spotlight flickered on and painted the base of a central tree, where a squad of Atlantians were waiting.
"General Odysseus, huh? This should be interesting."
Next Chapter: Atlantis Rising: Chapter 13
Homepage: Atlantis
