\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1667220-PARADOX----Chapter-49
Item Icon
Rated: 13+ · Novel · Action/Adventure · #1667220
Action/Adventure - A genre mix like National Treasure and Indiana Jones
Chapter 49

May 10, 2012 – Near the Mühlig-Hoffmann Mountain Range - Antarctica




Monday checked his gear for the umpteenth time since they left McMurdo Station. The loss of one single item could mean the difference between life and death in the conditions they were about to undertake. He chose a flat area approximately a kilometer from the coordinates he had. The LC-130 Hercules is rigged with retractabe ski-wheels and could land anywere on the continent.

Antarctica is not a mere ice-covered surface, but a real continent, with plains, valleys, and mountain peaks up to 15,000 feet. The temperature in the interior is around zero in the summer, and never drops below 20 or 30 degrees below in the winter. In other words, it is not as cold as in parts of North Dakota or Canada.(especially underground, where the natural temperature would be in the 50's, even below snow and ice, and with geothermal activity, possibly warmer.)

The pilot advised him over the COM to prepare for landing. Monday gave a heads-up warning to his Team to secure their safety straps and sat back in his web seating to secure his own. The landing was flawless, almost like landing on a runway. The pilots who flew these birds were specially trained for Arctic and Antarctic landings.

As they disembarked from the plane, Monday immediately felt the bitterly cold dry air. Antarctica was also the driest continent on the planet averaging around eight inches of precipitation per year. The first thing he spotted was the beautiful draping lights of the Aurora Australis, similar to the Aurora Borealis in the Arctic regions.

Lofton was the first to join him on the frozen plain. “What in hell you got in here?” Lofton complained, lugging one of Monday’s rucksacks from the plane and depositing it on the growing pile of equipment.

“Lots of batteries,” Monday smiled, and two hand-cranked generating lights. Last thing I want to do is run out of light in some deep dark tunnel hundreds of miles from nowhere.”

“Especially with ‘The Thing’ running around.” Lofton hummed the tune to The Twilight Zone, referring to an old B-movie from the 50’s and an imaginative television series.

As soon as they unloaded, Monday signaled to the pilots to take off. The pilot waved back and revved up the props. Within minutes, the running lights of the LC-130 faded out of sight. Monday turned and surveyed his small Team. He felt lost without Chester and the others, as if half his ability had been taken with them. He hoped they had not run into anything that he and Dorbec could not handle.

Monday did not know Lofton’s full capabilities but was impressed with his background and can-do attitude. Henri was solid as a rock, dependable, adaptable and tenacious. Dom, though not military trained, was a genius, loyal, and in excellent physical condition. Scout, Bones, and Weps, he knew like brothers; their capabilities, quirks, idiocyncracies and shortcomings. He knew he could depend on them come hell or high water.

There was a partially abandoned shack and several wind-swept buildings about a quarter mile in the distance, which had to be the remains of a bunker about twenty miles from the old British base called Maudheim. They were well preserved due to the extremely dry climate. They loaded up their gear and headed in that direction.

Monday signaled for them to spread out and look for possible underground openings. The report indicated that there were several bunkers, bunker one being the one he was searching for. It was from this bunker that the alleged British second expedition entered the underground tunnels. They found it within a few minutes. Snow had drifted into the door and covered the floor by several inches but they still had easy access. The second expedition reported that two bodies were found in the bunker, one of their own who had been recently killed by one of the ‘Polar Men’ and the remains of one sole survivor from the first expedition, stripped to the bone.

They found nothing in the small bunker except a weather worn military issue desk, some disgarded food containers, and bits and pieces of trash. They noticed that one wall of the bunker was caved in as if it had at one time led to an opening of some kind.

“I think this is what we’re looking for,” Monday pointed at the pile of rocks. “The report said they destroyed the tunnels in several locations.”

He directed Weps to place several M112 block demolition charges of 1.25 pounds of Composition C4 in position to blast open the rubble. Weps pulled the olive-drab Mylar film off several blocks and worked the putty like substance into a cone shape. The cone shape would allow for maximum penetration and expansion. Then he crimped a two-minute fuse into a blasting cap and stuck it into the cone. They had decided not to use electrical detonators but plain fire lit fuse for convenience sake.

“Fire in the hole!” Weps yelled, lighting the fuse with his lucky zippo cigarette lighter that he lugged around on and off duty.

The powerful blast shook the ground for thirty yards around. The entire top of the small bunker blew off revealing a gaping wound in the snow. As they walked back to the bunker, Monday notice that the tunnel opening had been completely cleared leaving a wide path descending down into the dark depths. It was not a man made tunnel but seemingly of natural origin.

Monday gave the order of march, putting Scout in the lead, Dom in the center, with Weps bringing up the rear. He would rotate point with Scout and have Lofton rotate drag with Weps.

They followed the tunnel for miles before they came to the first obstruction. An explosion had collapsed the tunnel, obviously by the second British expedition during their hasty retreat. Monday ordered Weps to perform his magic and after several small explosions a small opening to the other side was made.

After the team successfully made it through the bottleneck, Monday halted. This new part of the tunnel smelled different than the one they had been in. Previously he noticed very little smell, mostly dry stale air, now there was a rich moisture laden scent to their surroundings. A few feet down the tunnel they found half a dozen skeletons, mostly intact, with rotting rags hanging from parts of the bones.

“Must be those Polar Men the brief described.” Bones bent over to look at the skeletons. “There are obvious signs of trauma, pitted holes from rock or metal fragments, cracked skulls, and other concussion related damage. They also appear to be badly malnourished.”

“Taken out by that last British blast,” Monday mused. “I doubt any of their distant cousins are still around, but everyone keep a sharp eye.”

The further they progressed down the tunnel the more skeletal bodies they found, a few of them dressed in torn British uniforms but the majority had only pitiful remnants of rags left.

Bones stopped to inspect one of the bodies dressed in an antiquated uniform. “Gnaw marks.” He held up what appeared to be part of a radius bone with bits of leathery skin attached. “Looks like the beggar boys here were eating off the fat Brits.”

After several more miles and two more caved in sections to clear, they entered a massive underground cavern. The cavern was warmer than the tunnel and an overpowering smell of fresh plant life permeated the air. Descending into the cavern, they found several small lakes and upon testing the water found it clear and cool. Monday signaled for a lunch break and strolled over to talk with Dom. He knew his friend was still upset over the recent events that placed him on the wrong side of the coin.

“What do you make of these ragged bones? Monday asked, opening a pack of MRE’s.

Dom opened a container of his own pesonally bought food. MRE’s, or Meals Ready to Eat were not part of his gastronomical répertoire.

“Experimental subjects most likely.” He held up a cracker with a bit of goose Pâté to Monday who declined. “Dr. Sigmund Rascher, a Luftwaffe medical officer, also Nazi SS, was in charge of experiments at Dachau. He was the first to request "test subjects", who were frozen in low-pressure chambers and vats of icy water, and then experimented upon with attempts to rewarm them using sleeping bags, boiling water, and intercourse with incarcerated prostitutes from the Ravensbruck concentration camp. Those who survived the experiments were shot. Rascher also had the skulls of "test subjects" split open while conscious to examine their brains. He developed the standard form of cynanide capsules used by the SS, one of which was used by Himmler to commit suicide. Extreme cold weather research was important to the Nazis. It would seem normal to continue it when they relocated here.”

“You think they actually brought test subjects with them.”

“Most likely slaves.” Dom casually munched on his goose liver and crackers. “When their value as slave laborers was over, they were probably recycled into the research programs.”

Monday shook his shoulders at the inhumane thoughts. How humans could stoop so low to commit such atrocities was inconceivable.

“Any ideas on why they were so desperate to obtain those jewels?” He changed the subject.

“When I held the jewel and looked closely at it, it was if I was staring into a different universe or dimension,” Dom whispered. “I was mesmerized but terrified at the same time.”

“I had a similar feeling,” Monday agreed. “A sense of incredible power.”

“Their value is obvious.” Dom reached for a flask of wine. “If the power hidden inside those jewels can somehow be tapped, who knows what can be produced? Do you honestly believe we will find the descendants of Nazi Germany somewhere in these caverns?”

“I’m clutching at anything I can get,”Monday grinned. “The woman I love has been kidnapped and all I have to go on is information from Dorbec that Neo-Nazi’s are behind it.”

“What I can’t quite grasp is why powerful men would be content to live in caves like animals. Men accustomed to freedom of movement, plush surroundings, comfortable and scenic vistas, even addicted to being adored and pampered. The scenic mountains of South American, plush villas, effete living, and gregarious local officials I can fathom.”

“They’ve had over sixty years to improve on their caves,” Monday grinned. “And, if Dorbec sashayed with one of them at a wealthy Argentine villa, who’s to say there are not numerous plush hideaways scattered about. Freedom and anonymity is for sale in many countries.”

“Found something?” Lofton yelled. He meandered around after his meal several hundred feet from where the others sat.Suddenly alert, Monday jumped to his feet and signaled for the others to fan out.

He quietly but rapidly moved towards Lofton’s light in the distance. He didn’t think Lofton would be shining his flashlight around if there were any chance of strangers being in the cavern.

“Would you look at that?” Lofton pointed his light into a sunken hollow full of dark icy water. Next to a small cement dock was anchored a Nazi U-boat. Although somewhat rusted, for the most part it looked as if it could have docked that same day. “Reckon you were right about the Nazi’s being here.”

“Here and gone,” Monday replied. “This may have been a base at one time, but I think it has been abandoned for years.”

“It has!” a loud voice cut in.

At the same time massive lights came on throwing the large cavern into eye squinching light. Blinded by the light and startled by the loud voice, all they could do was drop to the ground and seek concealment.

“No need to crawl on your bellies,” the voice laughed. “We know you’re here, how many of you there are, and we have the advantage on you.”

They watched as scores of men dressed in unusual camouflage uniforms stood up around them. Each carried a futuristic looking weapon but Monday had no doubt that they would be effective and deadly. Their numbers continued to grow until well over a hundred soldiers surrounded them.

“Throw down your weapons and stand up!” Monday ordered his team. The odds against them were simply too much.

“Very smart,” the voice returned. “I have orders to bring you back alive. I would hate to disobey those orders, especially since I am under new employment.”

They were shocked to see Helmut Mueller stand up on the conning tower of the Nazi U-boat.

Monday watched his grinning face as he made his way down a small metal ladder and onto the cement dock. Mueller had a PPK/S in his right hand and he was dressed in one of the unusual uniforms with the camouflage patterns that continued to shift and change. He walked up to within five paces of Monday and planted his feet apart in a balanced stance. Monday could see hatred and madness in the man’s eyes.

“I was instructed to bring you back alive,” Mueller spat, pointng the pistol at Monday’s head. He moved so rapidly that Monday could barely follow what he was doing. Muller spun to his right and fired two quick rounds into Scout who stood no more than twenty feet away, then swiveled the pistol back at Monday. “They didn’t say all of you had to come back alive.”

Mueller hit Monday upside the head with the pistol, knocking him to the ground. Monday noticed Bones moving towards Scout and was worried that the madman would turn and shoot him also.

“One at a time,” Mueller grinned. “One at a time.”



© Copyright 2010 Oldwarrior (oldwarrior at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1667220-PARADOX----Chapter-49