Part 31 (1/2)

Wizard said, ”We have seven days to get to the Second Vertex. But we need to find the Second Pillar first, and Iolanthe said it still resides with the Neetha tribe in the Democratic Republic of the Congo. We'll need a chopper at some point, but we can make it to the Congo going overland through Rwanda.”

”Overland through Rwanda?” Zoe said. ”I hate to remind you, Max, but Rwanda is still cla.s.sified asthe most dangerous place on Earth, with the Congo a close second.”

Wizard grabbed a map of central Africa and unrolled it on the c.o.c.kpit's console: Sky Monster said, ”We're here, over Uganda, just north of Lake Victoria.”

Wizard pointed at the vast southern regions of the Democratic Republic of the Congo- taking up the whole lefthand side of the map. ”The DRC's nearly all jungle. Dense jungle. Few roads, no runways for a 747 anyway. Maybe we can steal a chopper in Rwanda, the UN left dozens of supply depots there.”

”We're gonna need help,” Zoe said. ”Supplies, language, local customs. Solomon?”

Wizard nodded. ”Solomon. I'll call him at the farm in Kenya. See if he can hightail it to Rwanda with supplies and anything else he can muster.”

Sky Monster added, ”See if he can bring some jet fuel while he's at it. I don't want to abandon my plane in Rwanda. She deserves more than that.”

Zoe saw the look on Sky Monster's face-to abandon his trusty plane in one of the wildest countries in Africa hit him hard.

But then he said, ”Go on, you guys. Better grab whatever you're going to take with you, because in about fortyfive minutes, we're going down.”

WOLF'S MINE SOMEWHERE IN AFRICA.

DECEMBER 11, 2007, 1800 HOURS.

DARKNESS, silence, peace.

Then a blinding flash of violent pain in his right hand jolted Jack West awake.

His eyes shot open- -and he found himself lying on his back on a large slab of stone, at the base of a deep squareshaped pit, with his arms spread wide...and a large black man hammering a thick nail into his right palm!

The man brought his mallet down again, and to Jack's horror the nail now wentall the way through the flesh of his palm and into a small block of wood buried in the stone beneath it. Blood splattered from the wound.

Jack began to hyperventilate.

He snapped to look at his left arm, only to discover that it had already been nailed down into another block sunk in the slab-his mechanical left hand still wore its leather glove.

His legs were tied down.

It was then that the full horror of the situation hit him.

He was being crucified...

Crucified on his back against a slab of stone, at the bottom of a pit in G.o.donlyknew where.

Still breathing fast, he scanned the pit around him. It was deep, about twenty feet, with sheer rock walls, and the world beyond its rim appeared dark, lit by firelight, like a cave or a mine of some kind.

Then the muscular black man hammering his hand into the stone called, ”He is awake!”

and four men appeared up on the rim of the pit, gazing down into it.

Two of the four Jack didn't recognize: they were a pair of American soldiers, the first was a bulky young trooper with wide unblinking eyes, the second a compact AsianAmerican wearing Marine fatigues.

Jack did know the third man. He was Chinese, older, and had furious eyes. It was Colonel Mao Gongli of the People's Liberation Army, whom Jack had last seen in Laozi's trap system, gagging on the contents of a smoke grenade. Jack vaguely recalled pistol whipping Mao as he'd run past him there, breaking his nose.

The fourth man, however, was a man Jack knew very well, and he figured (correctly) that the two younger troopers were his lackeys. Blondhaired and blueeyed, the fourth man was an American colonel who went by the call signWolf. Jack hadn't seen him in years and was quite happy with that.

Wolf gazed down at Jack-helpless on his back, nailed to the pit floor-with a peculiar look on his face.

Then he smiled.

”h.e.l.lo, son,” he called.

”h.e.l.lo, Father,” Jack said.

The man standing above him was Jack West Sr.

JONATHAN WEST SR.-Wolf-gazed down at his son from the top of the pit.

Behind him, unseen by Jack, lay the workings of an enormous underground mine. In it, hundreds of emaciated Ethiopians stood on tenstoryhigh scaffold towers, toiling with picks and shovels at great walls of dirt, clearing centuries of hardpacked grit from what appeared to be a collection of ancient stone buildings.

”Isopeda Isopedella,”Wolf said slowly, his voice echoing in the vast mine.

Jack didn't reply.

”The common huntsman spider,” Wolf said. ”A largebodied, longlimbed spider native to Australia. Similar to the tarantula in size and general notoriety, it's known to grow to sizes in excess of six inches.”

Still Jack said nothing.

”But despite its fearsome appearance, the huntsman spider is not a lethal spider. In fact, it is not dangerous at all. A bite will cause no more than transient local pain. It is a fake, a fraud. An animal that attempts to mask its general ineffectiveness with the appearance of size and power, much like you. I never liked your call sign, Jack.”

A bead of sweat trickled down Jack's forehead as he lay on his back at the bottom of the pit.

”Where are my friends?” he asked, his throat coa.r.s.e and dry. He was thinking of Stretch, Pooh Bear, and Astro-all of whom had failed to escape after the chase from Abu Simbel.

At that moment, Wolf guided Astro into view beside him. Jack saw the young American Marine through blurry eyes. He seemed okay and, importantly, hewasn't wearing any handcuffs. He said nothing, just looked down coldly at Jack.

Had Astro been with Wolf all along?Jack thought. It had always been a possibility. But no, he thought he'd picked Astro as a good man, loyal. He couldn't have been a plant.

”What about the other two?”

”Never mind their fate,” Wolf said. ”They will certainly outlive you, but not by much. We were talking about the flaws in your chosen call sign, son.”

”I didn't choose it. You don't choose your own call sign.”

Wolf looked away.

”How is your mother?” he asked suddenly. ”No matter how hard I try, I just can't seem to find her. It's as if she doesn't want me to locate her.”

”I can't imagine why,” Jack said.

To explain what had gone wrong with his parents' marriage meant understanding Jack's father.

Powerful physically and brilliant mentally, John West Sr. was an intellectually vain man, convinced of his superiority in all matters. As a strategist, he was unrivaled in the US, his methods were bold, vicious and, most of all, successful. These accomplishments only bolstered his sense of omnipotence.