The Second Ship (The Rho Agenda #1)(79)
But the kid's tracks led in and out of that place.
Harold reached behind him, extracting his 9mm Beretta from the holster strapped to the small of his back. Then, with the weapon up and at the ready, he stepped inside.
For several seconds, he could see very little as his eyes adjusted from the daylight to the dim light in the cave. There was a light. Sort of a soft, red glow. Glancing back the way he had come, Harold found he could see out into the canyon beyond, but it looked dim, as if he were peering through some sort of polarized sunscreen.
One thing was certain. The technology for this screen was like nothing he had seen in his operations around the world. He considered that for a second. Could it be something new being worked on by a division of the Los Alamos National Laboratory? Unless it was Rho Project stuff, he didn’t think so. But this was outside of any secure area, so it couldn’t be lab related.
Harold turned back toward the center of the cave, once again catching his breath as a new set of unexpected imagery rocked him. Filling the entire back portion of the cavern was a large saucer-shaped object. The ship. This was the ship that Mark had mentioned to Heather. Not the Rho Ship but another ship, a completely different shape from the one the government had at the lab.
Harold moved slowly but steadily around the perimeter of the metallic disk, ducking underneath the rim where it was jammed against the back and side walls. Then he saw the hole. A perfectly round hole, about a meter in diameter, had been punched through the ship, the edges as smooth as a samurai sword’s passage through bamboo.
Harold walked underneath and looked up. The hole had punched through several decks and all the way out the top side.
Grabbing his cell phone from its clip on his holster, Harold flipped it open. No signal. Shit. He’d have to call Jack once he got back out of the cave. The ship was probably cutting off all electronic transmissions the way it had erected the cloaking screen at the cave entrance. Well, he’d just have a quick look around inside and then head back out to call in the report. This one was going to blow Jack’s skirt up for sure.
Harold spent the next fifteen minutes working his way rapidly through the parts of the ship he could enter, which weren't many. He saw the row of four bands lying on the table, but left them for more careful investigation by a follow-on team.
Having convinced himself there was plenty here to keep the government busy for the next sixty years, Harold dropped the six feet down from the lower deck to the floor of the cavern. As he straightened up, the blow took him by surprise, catching him square in the chest and sending him flying into the cavern wall.
Even though the impact knocked the wind from his body and left him with at least one broken rib, Harold's training took over. As he rebounded from the wall, his gun hand steadied, swinging smoothly toward his assailant. As the trigger finger tightened, sending the jolt of recoil up his wrist and into his arm, the figure before him blurred into motion again, miraculously moving clear of his aim point before the bullet could fire.
Another blow caught him, this one breaking his wrist and sending the weapon spinning outward; it clattered to the stone floor of the cave, sliding to a stop where the metal of the ship touched the floor.
Harold moved in a spinning round kick, which also failed to land. Another punch cracked the ribs on his other side and knocked him to the floor. As he rolled back to his knees, a vicious kick caught him in the stomach, sending him sliding back into the rock wall. Another kick followed, breaking his left arm, although at a spot higher up than the break in his right.
His vision misted over with red, but Harold turned his head to see who his attacker was. The man was skinny, with long, stringy, blond hair, his clothes shabby and dirty. Without a doubt, this had to be the Rag Man Jack had said was stalking Heather McFarland. The man leaned his face close, and the stench of the fellow’s breath clogged Harold’s nostrils.
“Sin is the transgression of the law.”
Harold stared into the deep-set eyes but said nothing.
“You have transgressed. I shall ask our Lord to forgive you of your sins, before sending you on your way to face judgment.” The Rag Man grabbed Harold's broken right arm and twisted. “But first, you will tell me who you are working for and who, if anyone, is in town with you.”
Although he bit nearly all the way through his lip, Harold did not scream.
Harold had been hurt before, although never this badly for this long. Well before three hours of torture had passed, he had no doubt this would be his last day on Earth. Toward the end, although the pain did not ease, in his delirium, it dulled slightly. And as his senses dulled, the ravings of the Rag Man became more extreme, his anger at the realization he would not break Harold finally sending the Rag Man into a killing frenzy he could no longer control.
The Rag Man’s hands tightened in a grip that would shortly break his neck, forcing Harold’s thoughts once more to Jack. It was a shame. He would have liked to be around when this dirtbag found out what it was like to get on Jack “The Ripper” Gregory’s bad side.
Chapter 57
The Rag Man stared up at the body of the unidentified agent, suspended on a meat hook in the cave he called home. Not the cave. Not the one with God's Ark. This was his cave, the place he had hidden away from society these last seven and a half years, a place several miles away from the Ark Cave.
Was he not the new Gabriel?