The Storm - Cussler Clive (книги без сокращений .TXT) 📗

“This could not have come at a worse time,” he said. “We have other guests to prepare for.”

“They will be dealt with,” Sabah insisted.

“Fine,” Jinn said. “What do you suggest?”

“We must send a message that does not start a war. I suggest we show them what they want to see. One to see it closely, the other to observe from a distance.”

A sinister look came over Sabah’s face, and Jinn began to understand. He had to discount Sabah as old and out of touch, but no more.

“Order the test bay flooded,” Jinn said.

“It has been configured to simulate the attack on Aswan.”

A smile crept onto Jinn’s face. “Perfect. Proceed with the demonstration. Give them a front-row seat. It would make me very happy for them to see more than they bargained for.”

A flash of understanding appeared on Sabah’s face.

“I will do as you command,” he said.

Jinn looked back through the glass partition to his workers below. They moved here and there. The machines were operating again, running at full capacity. At the end of the production line a trickle of silver sand had begun to fill a yellow plastic drum. Beyond it, fifty-nine other drums waited. They would carry the latest batch of his horde. And if Jinn was right, they would break the will of Aziz and force Egypt’s military leaders and their wealth back into his hands.

CHAPTER 21

KURT REACHED THE TOP OF THE BLUFF A FEW SECONDS ahead of Joe. He studied the layout.

The landing pad was set up three-quarters of the way to the front edge. A Russian-made helicopter sat in the center of the pad. The cargo door was rolled back, and a pair of men dressed like guards sat in the open doorway, sharing a cigarette and talking.

Glancing around, Kurt saw no one else. “Can you get them both?”

Joe nodded. “Two birds with one stone,” he said. “Or, in this case, multiple wires.”

Kurt was glad to hear that. He pointed to the far side of the copter. Joe moved that way, clinging to the side of the bluff like a rock climber.

When Joe reached a covered spot beside the gray machine, Kurt pulled the cloth of the caftan across his face. He stepped from his own hiding spot and walked toward the men, holding his hands out and muttering something about a lost camel.

The men snapped to attention and moved toward him. One put a hand on his sidearm but didn’t draw it out, perhaps because Kurt looked like a local, perhaps because he had his hands up as he spoke.

“Naqah, naqah,” he said, using the Arabic word for female camel.

The men seemed utterly baffled. They continued toward him looking angry, never seeing Joe move in behind them.

“Naqah,” Kurt said once again, and then watched as the men stiffened and dropped to their knees.

They fell forward silently. Reveling Joe grinning and holding a Taser, which he’d fired into the two men.

“Oh where, oh where has my little naqah gone?” Kurt finished.

“Great thing about Tasers,” Joe said, “they work so quick, people can’t even yell out.”

The coiled wires were still attached, and when the men began to move, Joe zapped them again.

“I think they’ve had enough, Dr. Frankenstein.”

Joe switched the power off, and the tension left the two men instantly. Kurt was on them, jabbing a tranquilizer dart into each and watching their eyes roll up in their heads. As the men went limp, Joe pulled out the Taser wires and helped Kurt carry the two back to the helicopter.

They piled the men inside, climbed in after them, and then slid the door shut.

A few moments later the door opened. Kurt and Joe came out dressed in the guards’ dark blue clothing, complete with kaffiyehs that covered their faces and hair. While Joe pretended to watch the helicopter, Kurt looked around for the tunnel he’d seen.

He discovered a cut in the stone and followed it to a ladder that dropped straight down. At the bottom he found a door made of steel with an electronic sensor lock above the handle. It looked familiar, like the locks in any hotel.

“Let’s just hope we have a reservation,” he said to himself as he rummaged through the guard’s pockets. Finding a card key in one, he slipped it in the card reader and pulled it out. When the light went green, he turned the handle.

“Easy as pie,” he whispered.

Propping the door open with a small rock, he climbed back up the ladder and whistled to Joe. A moment later they were in the tunnel and taking a steep set of stairs downward.

“Into the rabbit hole,” Kurt said. “Just keep an eye out for the Jabberwocky.”

“What exactly is a Jabberwocky again?” Joe asked. “I was never quite sure.”

“It’s something bad and scary,” Kurt said. “You’ll know it when you see it.”

They descended the stairs and came to a warren of tunnels. They took one that angled downward and came to another crossroads.

“I feel like I’m in an ant farm,” Joe whispered.

“Yeah,” Kurt said. “I can just imagine giant people watching us through the glass.”

They moved down the tunnel to another intersection.

“Which way?” Joe asked.

“No idea,” Kurt said.

“We either need a guide or a map.”

Kurt’s brow wrinkled. “If you see a lighted display that says ‘You are here,’ be sure to let me know.”

They found no such thing, but then Kurt noticed something else.

Up above, a series of pipes ran through the tunnel. Power conduits and possibly water or natural gas. All the things a production center needed.

“We need to find the factory,” he said. “I’m thinking we follow the power lines.”

They moved along a tunnel, tracking the conduits. It led them to a larger hallway, wide enough to drive a car through. A pair of men dressed like them walked toward them, coming from the opposite direction. Kurt forced himself to remain relaxed as they approached. Nevertheless, he was ready for a fight. But they passed without a word, and he breathed a little easier.

At the end of the tunnel they came to an open section of the cave. Concrete flooring had been put in, and a dozen tables surrounded by chairs filled the space. It was lit up brightly. A far wall had refrigerators and sinks stacked against it.

“Congratulations,” Kurt said. “We’ve found the mess hall.”

“And I’m finally not hungry,” Joe said.

Groups of men sat at three of the tables. Strangely, they looked nothing like Jinn’s men.

“All kinds of people here,” Kurt whispered. “We better keep going.”

They moved on, following the pipes and conduits until they reached a glass wall. It looked down into a cavernous space. The lighting was low, but from what they could see it looked like an Olympic-sized pool sat down below. A large shape took up the middle.

“What is this, a health spa?” Joe whispered.

“It won’t be if we get discovered.”

“That’s a big tank,” Joe said. “Reminds me of our simulation tank back in D.C.”

“Curiouser and curiouser,” Kurt said, quoting Alice from the Lewis Carroll classic. “These guys must be modeling something. Currents or waves or something.”

“What’s with the setup in the middle?”

“No idea,” Kurt said. “But let’s get a closer look.”

They found a door and slipped through it. Stairs led down to a locker room of sorts. White hazmat-style uniforms hung in stalls.

“Time for a wardrobe change,” Kurt said.

“You think these are necessary?”

“For camouflage,” Kurt said. “And if there are any of those microbots down here, it might be good to have a protective layer on.”

In a minute, Kurt and Joe had each donned hazmat suits, pulling them on over the uniforms they’d stolen from the guards.

They moved out onto the pool deck and stood at the surface level. Kurt noticed the object in the center was not a model ship or even the depiction of some coastline but a wide curving object wedged between the two sides. The water level was high on one side of it but far lower on the other side and constricted to a narrow, irregular channel.