‘Yeah,’ sniffed Mick as a whiff of sulphurous gas drifted over from the ash-covered mound. ‘The scene of yesterday’s crime. Look. The wet patch is still on the table.’
Jesse gave Mick a withering once-up-and-down. ‘You filthy, degrading beast,’ she said. ‘Just for that, you’re not getting a rest. Come on.’ Jesse stabbed a finger towards the distant hills and mountain ranges. ‘That way.’
‘Humourless old prude,’ muttered Mick as he followed Jesse to the remains of an old barbed-wire fence skirting the viewing area, then stepped through a gap in it behind her.
Walking steadily, the landscape changed to reasonably level, tree-studded rolling valleys strewn with boulders. Mick had popped a couple more Panadeine on the way up, and after raising a good sweat and drinking lots of water, he felt a little better. Further along, they picked up a couple of small branches for staffs, then Jesse found an old trail a couple of metres wide winding through the trees. It was rough and strewn with lumps of granite and white quartz and had been washed away over the ages. But it made the going easier.
‘This could be an old gold prospector’s trail,’ said Jesse.
‘Yeah. Look at all that alluvial quartz,’ said Mick. ‘I wouldn’t mind coming back out here with a metal detector.’
‘I’ll be in that,’ smiled Jesse. ‘I love bushwalking.’ She showed Mick the digital compass on the transceiver. ‘Especially with this thing.’
They crunched along the old trail towards the approaching hills and granite mountain ranges to the accompaniment of parrots and birds whistling or squawking in the trees. A couple of big red kangaroos bounded past, and they disturbed the odd bush turkey here and there plus a small mob of grey wallabies standing in a gulley. Several willy-willys whirled through the valleys. One went by in a spiral of dust and leaves less than fifty metres away. Mick turned to follow a magnificent wedge-tail eagle drifting across the sky and noticed the ash mound and wooden buildings on Burning Mountain had disappeared amongst the valleys behind them.
In the Sunday traffic along Nelson Bay Road, between Salt Ash and Bob’s Farm, Agent Sierota started getting uneasy behind the wheel of the hosed-out Jeep Cherokee. It wasn’t the police car behind Zimmer that made him nervous. Or the
fact that he had an AR 18 and ten twenty-round magazines inside a black ziplock canvas bag secreted in the Cherokee’s hidden compartment, along with his fully loaded Smith and Wesson 1006 and six nine-round magazines. Zimmer had the scanner on the seat beside him and noticed the needle move. It went steadily along the New England Highway out of Scone, stopped past Wingen, then started moving slowly at Burning Mountain Nature Reserve. Agent Sierota wasn’t familiar with the locations, but it meant Mick and Jesse had started off in their car, now they were on foot, and no doubt heading for Project Piggie. So the sooner Zimmer got to them, the better. With one eye on the scanner, Agent Sierota drove past the Sunday crowd at the Tomaree Sports Complex and pulled up alongside the fence just past the heliport office. The office was closed and Zimmer got out of the car to take a look around when his cellphone beeped.
‘Sierota.’
‘Agent Sierota. It’s Commander Sisti. My ETA at that heliport is ten minutes.’
‘Roger that, Commander. I’m here now. I’ll see you in ten.’
After going through all the necessary protocol with his ship and the Australian authorities, Commander Sisti lifted off from the
Tocqueville
and flew north out of Sydney Harbour, hugging the coastline all the way to Stockton Beach. After his current missions off Malaysia, the flight was a day at the beach and Roy was quite impressed with the beauty of the New South Wales coastline. On the way, he came in low over some place on his map called McMasters Beach where two young girls with enormous breasts were sunbaking topless at the northern end. One looked up and waved as he flew over. Roy’s face burst into a happy lecherous grin and he turned around and circled them. And sonofabitch! If they both didn’t sit up and wave! Goddamn! The women out here sure are friendly, smiled Roy, before flying on.
With the ziplock bag at his feet, and holding the scanner, Agent Sierota was standing by the Jeep Cherokee when he heard the chatter of an approaching helicopter. He looked up and there was no mistaking the Kiowa OH–58D. Zimmer picked up the bag and scanner then climbed through the fence and waved as Commander Sisti expertly touched down in a noisy flurry of dust and swirling leaves. Keeping his head instinctively
low to avoid the spinning rotor blades, Agent Sierota stepped across to the helicopter, opened the door and threw his bag in the back. He then climbed on board, carefully resting the scanner on his lap before closing the door after him.
Commander Sisti offered his hand. ‘Roy Sisti,’ he shouted. ‘Do you wish to dispense with formalities, Agent Sierota?’
‘Sure.’ The NSA agent gave Commander Sisti’s hand a quick shake. ‘Zimmer Sierota.’
‘Okay. So where are we off to, Zimmer? Scone?’
‘That’s right. You know it?’
‘I got it on the map,’ nodded Roy. He gave Zimmer a cursory once-up-and-down. ‘So what’s our mission?’
Zimmer nodded to the bag. ‘I have to take out two security risks. Code Red.’ He nodded to the scanner on his lap. ‘We’ll track them on this.’
‘That’s an AST 1235. You want to run it through my ARC 186?’
Zimmer shook his head. ‘No. It doesn’t matter. I’ll guide you.’
‘Suit yourself. Okay. Buckle up and slap your cans on,’ said Roy, ‘and we’ll DD out of here.’
‘Let’s do that, Commander.’
‘Agent Sierota clicked into his seatbelt and put his headphones on as Commander Sisti took the
chopper up, banked over the sports complex and headed west.
Tramping along doggedly, Mick and Jesse followed the old trail towards the approaching mountain range. Mick’s hangover had eased. But having eaten hardly any breakfast, he was getting hungry and looking forward to one of the Subways in his backpack. Jesse, on the other hand, was full of fervent energy and enjoying her trek through the trees and wildlife.
Finally the trail ended at a rising line of scrub and stunted trees growing beneath an enormous wall of towering granite. The cliffs ran away on either side and several metres above the trail’s end an uneven ledge jutted out from beneath a huge rocky dome rising from a deep cleft sliced into the rock. It was completely silent. Any sound, even the wind, was soaked up by the massive barrier of lichen-coated stone.
Mick turned to Jesse. ‘Is this the spot?’ he asked her.
‘I’d say so.’ Jesse placed her staff and backpack on the ground, took out the sheet of motel stationery and compared her notes to the reading on the transceiver. ‘Yep. This is it all right.’ She offered the readings to Mick. ‘You want to check?’
Mick shook his head. ‘No. I’ll take your word for it.’ He stood back and gazed up at the towering rockface. Standing out in the middle of nowhere under a vast open sky amongst endless rolling valleys and huge ancient stone hills and mountains, Mick was awestruck. ‘Shit! If these are the Piggiebillah Hills,’ he said, ‘they sure looked a lot smaller from over on Burning Mountain.’
Jesse also moved back and stared up at the steep grey cliffs. ‘Yes. You can say that again,’ she said.
‘So what are we looking for?’
‘I’m not sure,’ answered Jesse. ‘Some sort of entrance, I’d imagine.’ Jesse placed the transceiver in her backpack. ‘Anyway. We may as well start looking while we’ve got plenty of sun.’
‘How about something to eat?’ suggested Mick. ‘I’m starving.’
‘Why don’t we have a look around first? Then we’ll both eat.’
‘All right. You’re the boss.’
Mick placed his backpack next to Jesse’s and started searching around one side of the rockface while Jesse searched the other. Mick was poking around in the scrub and keeping an eye out for snakes, when his staff struck something. He beat away the creepers and called out to Jesse.
‘Hey Oz. Have a look at this.’ Jesse hurried over and Mick pointed out a rusty metal band and a few rotting wooden spokes radiating out from the remains of a hub. ‘It’s an old wagon wheel,’ he said.
‘Hey, you’re right,’ said Jesse.
‘Didn’t you say Tesla mentioned a bullock wagon in his diary?’
Jesse’s eyes lit up. ‘That’s right. He did.’
‘This might be part of it.’
‘It might, too. Shit! I’m going to get my camera.’
Jesse went to her backpack, so Mick kept searching along the rockface and around the bushes. He went along a few metres then came back and stared up at the ledge jutting out from the cleft in the rising granite. Jesse was taking photos and Mick was staring at an old wasps’ nest at one end of the ledge, when something caught his eye. He stepped back and took his sunglasses off for a better look before calling out to Jesse.
‘Hey Oz. Come here for a minute.’
Jesse stopped what she was doing and came over. ‘What is it, Mick?’
Mick pointed to below the rock ledge. ‘See all that lichen growing below the ledge?’
‘Yes. What about it?’
‘It’s in a pattern. It’s just not right.’
Jesse took her sunglasses off and tilted her head. ‘Yes. I think I see what you mean, Mick. It’s too neat.’
Mick stepped up through the scrub in front of the rockface and ran the end of his staff across the lichen above him. ‘See how the lichen’s all evenly grown, Oz. If you ask me, this part of the cliff has been cemented up with stone. And over the years the moss and lichen’s grown into the grooves, making it look like Stencrete.’
Mick left Jesse and started poking around in the bush and small trees growing against the cliff face. He stopped then turned to Jesse. ‘Oz. Check this out.’
Jesse stepped across to find Mick had uncovered a rough opening in the cliff.
‘It’s a small cave,’ she said. ‘Probably a wombat burrow.’
‘Yeah. Or an entrance.’ Mick turned directly to Jesse. ‘Oz,’ he said, ‘think about this. You’re Tesla. To build your death ray machine inside a mountain you’d need a decent-sized entrance to get your men and all your equipment in and out. Right?’
‘Yes. Of course you would,’ agreed Jesse.
‘But when it’s all set up, you don’t need to go back in and load it with bombs or fill it up with petrol or anything. It’s a death ray machine. All you got to do is switch the thing on.’
‘Yes,’ Jesse agreed again. ‘That makes sense.’
‘So all you need is a one-man entrance and conceal it.’ Mick indicated the lichen-covered rocks, then pointed to the cave. ‘What’s the betting, Oz, this was once the big entrance. Then Tesla had it filled in, leaving just a crawl space for himself, like that little cave?’
Jesse stared at Mick. ‘I’ll get our backpacks and the torch.’
‘Good thinking, Ninety-Nine.’
Jesse returned with the backpacks and placed them on the ground. She handed Mick the torch, then they lay down side by side in front of the tunnel and Mick turned the torch on. The beam lit up ten metres of a narrow, cobweb-filled tunnel, sealed at the end by a sheet of metal.
‘Look at that, Oz,’ said Mick, concentrating the light on the sheet of metal. ‘If that’s not a doorway, what is it?’
Jesse stared at Mick, then grabbed him by the front of his T-shirt and kissed him savagely on the lips. ‘And you’ve got the hide to call me a genius. You fool.’
‘Thank you,’ smiled Mick. He ran the torch around the tunnel. ‘Shit. Check out all the veins of copper. They’re everywhere.’
‘Yes,’ noticed Jesse. ‘Be nice if it was gold and this wasn’t sacred ground.’
‘Righto. Where’s those Allen keys?’ Mick opened his backpack and removed the leather bag holding the long metal keys. He took them out and ran the torch over them. ‘Okay, Oz. Let’s see if they can still open the door.’ He turned to Jesse. ‘And let’s hope Nikola hasn’t booby-trapped it.’
‘Yes, let’s.’ Jesse gave Mick a thin smile. ‘You go first.’
Gripping his backpack and the Allen keys in one hand, and the torch in the other, Mick started crawling along the tunnel with Jesse following him. Suddenly she tapped him on the leg.
‘Hey, Mick,’ she said. ‘Can you hear something?’
Mick turned and looked at Jesse over his shoulder. ‘Like what?’ he asked her.
‘It sounded like a helicopter.’
‘Out here? Nahh. It’s only the wind. Come on. And watch out for spiders.’
‘Shit! I’m right behind you.’
Agent Sierota and Commander Sisti didn’t have a great deal to say on the flight out from Nelson Bay. Zimmer asked Roy a few things about Colombia and The Activity. Unfortunately that was classified. Roy asked Zimmer a few things about the NSA. Unfortunately that was classified too. The only thing that wasn’t classified was Roy’s distaste for what Zimmer was about to do: slaughter a young unarmed couple and leave their bodies out in the wilderness. Roy was hoping he’d left all that crap back in the jungle. But orders were orders, and Uncle Sam’s national security was Uncle Sam’s national security.
With Zimmer giving him directions, Roy banked the Kiowa over Scone, then flew on before hovering over the parking area at Burning Mountain. Zimmer was peering through a pair of binoculars. He put them down and pointed to the old white Commodore parked near the fence.
‘That’s their vehicle,’ said Zimmer. ‘And they’ve stopped out on the other side of this mountain. We’re right on their ass.’
‘Good, Zimmer,’ replied Roy. ‘I’m really happy for you.’
Not picking up on Roy’s sarcasm, Zimmer turned and unzipped the canvas bag behind him. He took out the AR 18, pressed in a clip of bullets,
then locked and loaded the powerful assault weapon before cradling it across his lap. Roy brought the Kiowa up over Burning Mountain and headed low across the rolling valleys towards the Piggiebillah Hills. They were fast approaching when Agent Sierota’s face reddened and he slapped the scanner.
‘Goddamn sonofabitch!’ he cursed.
‘Problem?’ asked Roy.
‘Yeah. I’ve lost them. I can’t friggin’ believe it.’
Roy reduced speed as they neared the looming walls of granite and brought the helicopter up. Slowly and cautiously he banked the Kiowa around, then hovered unsteadily back from the steep grey cliffs.
‘Where have you lost them?’ he asked.