“Hey, man.” Buch walked into Luc’s front yard. The garage doors were open. Inside, he could see his friend kneeling by a bike as old as he was, elbows deep in grease. Luc stood and walked up to his friend. “Hey!” He half-hugged him so as not to get the gunk on his hands all over Buch's clothes.
“You’re still working on that junk?” Luc had the bike in his garage for as long as Buch had known him, but he had not seen him work on it after their last three deployments. “I brought it out yesterday afternoon.”
“Ah…” Buch nodded.
Luc turned around and headed to the sink while his guest settled on the couch. Once his hands were clean, he opened the minifridge and brought out two cans of beer. He passed Buch one and sat next to him on the sofa.
“That’s what brought me here actually,” Buch led on. He knew Luc like he knew himself: getting his hands busy was his way of dealing with stress.
“What do you mean?”
Buch leaned forward, elbows on knees and a can swaying in his hold. He spoke after a few sips. “Did you hear anything?” Luc took a sip of his beer and cast his friend a curious look. “We all heard something.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s all over the fucking news. No,” he hesitated. He hated to ask this, but he was in a bind. “I mean, did you hear anything from your old man?”
Luc was upset. Buch could see it clearly in how his shoulders tensed and the way he downed the rest of his beer in one go. He pressed on despite his guilt. “I am sorry to ask, but Laura is freaking out, and your dad has connections and all. I figured he must know something.”
“I don’t know if he knows something. I haven’t asked.” The disappointment was apparent on Buch’s face. Luc wanted to offer him more, but calling his dad was out of the question.
“How’s Laura?” He tried to deflect, not wanting to talk about yesterday’s Call, as they referred to it on the news, but Buch brought it back around all the same. “She is doing fine, all things considered. She is due in three weeks, so she’s a little freaked out, especially with whatever the fuck that was yesterday. She thinks she is giving birth at the end of the world.”
The two sat in silence for a bit. They did not need to turn on the TV or the radio to know what everybody was talking about. A cross-continental wailing blast was not your average Tuesday call to lunch. It was bound to cause a stir.
“I was going to watch a game tonight. Do you think they’ll still be playing?” Luc’s attempt to lighten the situation fell flat. Outside, his neighbor Marc was angrily shoving his kids into an overpacked car before getting into the vehicle himself. Buch followed his line of sight. They were driving away, the poor car heavy with kids, bags, and boxes. “Looks like old Marc is getting ahead of the apocalypse traffic.”
“Smart man,” answered Buch. “Do you think I should do the same? Take the missus and leave before shit hits the fan?” He asked in jest, but Luc could see the truth behind the humor. His friend was scared. He had people he loved and cared about. He was not alone in this world.
“I’ll call him.” He regretted the words the second they left his mouth.
“Thank you.”
Lucas called Donald Buyers, but his four calls went unanswered, his father ever the busy man.
“He is not picking up. Let me try his secretary.” He searched for Miranda in his contacts. As he was about to call her, a chime sounded from both his friend’s phone and his.
“Duty calls,” said Buch exasperated. They were both on standby and were therefore required to report back less than an hour after the alert notification.
“Do you want me to drive you?” asked Buch.
“Sure.”
Luc locked all doors, turned off the lights, and ensured everything was in order. “I have to drop by the house though. Let Laura know,” said Buch as they waited for the truck to warm up. “I will keep trying him”.
Ten more calls later, neither his father nor his secretary were picking up their phones. Luc was lost between worry and relief. His mind was linking everything going on to the Call. Was that why his father was not picking up? Was this what this assignment was about?
They made it to the base in forty minutes. There, they headed straight to the plane as the code instructed. “Big Duck!” yelled Buch when they neared the aircraft, his mood instantly lightening up at seeing his mate.
In the bird, Nick, aka Big Duck, was checking his bags. “Buch, Grizzly,” he greeted back.
“Any idea what this is about?” asked Big Duck after a while. “Not a clue.” Luc’s mind could not help but wonder back to the Call. As the MC-130J Commando II was getting ready for take-off, a man in a crisp black suit boarded the plane and headed to the briefing area by the cockpit.
The plane was small and empty, save for the pilots, the 3 SEALs, and the stranger. The only cargo on the bird was the men’s bags and some screens and computers mounted on one side of the plane near the cockpit.
Once the aircraft was steadily cruising in the air, the white man in the black suit started the briefing.
“Three months ago, a relic was discovered on the beach of Cape Hatteras, North Carolina. Due to the queer nature of the relic, the existence of the archaeological expedition was kept a secret.” The man, a CIA agent, showed the three soldiers pictures and videos of the fragments of the relic the archaeological team was able to extract. “As you can see, the symbols carved in the stones are lit at times and dim at others. That seems to be triggered by human touch.
“Additionally, touching a small fragment of the relic in another location seems to affect all separate fragments of the relic. Mind you, this relic is made entirely of stone, no wiring inside it whatsoever.” The last information incited mixed reactions in the listening men.
“Yesterday at exactly 13:17 EDT, the relic lit up without any apparent trigger. At 13:31 EDT, what we refer to as The Call sounded.”
Now the men were looking at each other with apparent enthrall. “Are you saying the two are connected?” asked Big Duck.
“Yes, we believe so. Based on the study the archeological team conducted on the relic, we were able to estimate the location of the other part of it.” The screen showed several maps of Southeast Morocco, detailing the geographical profile of the area between the cities of Akhfenir and Tarfaya.
“But how did something this big find itself on a beach in the States, all the way from North Africa?” The CIA agent showed another map on the screen.
“This is Pangea, a supercontinent that broke apart nearly 200 million years ago. The chronological testing of the relic points to it dating up to 280 million years ago-”
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“wow wow wow, slow down,” interrupted Buch. “Last time I checked, humans weren’t that old. Are you saying that something else made this? Something not human?” When the CIA agent first started talking about The Call, Buch thought he would be getting answers. All he had on his mind now was more questions.
“... We don’t know. At this point, everything is a possibility. After The Call sounded, we started picking up electromagnetic signals from the fragments in Cape Hatteras. The same wavelength was picked up from somewhere in this region as well. We were able to figure it out this fast because of the fragments we found in our territory, but the signals are there for anyone to pick up. We need you to get in there, find the rest of the relic, find out what exactly activated it, gather as much intelligence as you can, and report back.”
“Shouldn’t this be done with some teams of scientists or something?” As much as Buch was craving answers, he had never been on a mission with these many ambiguities.
“We don’t know what’s in there. We can’t endanger civilian lives when we have no idea what we are dealing with, and we need an upper hand if we are to negotiate with the country.”
“What will we be looking for exactly?” asked Luc.
“The archeological team seems to believe the relic to be a large circular or oval room. For the fragments to have activated before The Call, there is a possibility of the existence of some sort of entrance to the structure for a person to have entered through and activated the structure. If not, you are to make one. There is also a high possibility that the room is partially or even fully submerged in water.
“We will circle the Canary Islands and approach the insertion location from the South. You will be dropped off a few miles from the shore under the cover of the night since the location is very close to National Road One.
“Buyers, you will be in charge. I suggest you get some sleep. It’s going to be a long flight.”
The man turned back to his electronics, turning this down and tuning that up when Luc asked. “Are we even sure humans activated it? You said this structure was prehistoric, right? What if we find something… else there?”
“Then you observe as much as you can without drawing attention to yourselves, and you report back. If you find any humans there, you will extract them for interrogation.”
*****
“Ten minutes!” shouted the agent. The three SEALs awakened in an instant. They had a good six hours of sleep after they went through the mission files and geared up in their maritime assault suits.
“Five minutes!” The ramp lowered. Luc checked his and his men’s parachutes. Big Duck was first in line, being the heaviest.
“Thirty seconds!”
The ramp light turned green. Grizzly signaled for Big Duck to jump. Buch followed seconds later on his tail. Luc jumped last. The men then opened their parachutes and got into position: bodies straight, legs together, and arms held tightly against their sides.
The water was dark and cold against their skin, but the current was manageable. They swam to the shore, the waxing moon faintly lighting their way.
The infiltration location was on a cliff. The water violently hit the rocks at its foot, so the men opted to swim to a shore 70 feet wide, half a mile north of the cliff. The shore was inaccessible from the road, being on sea level, offering the soldiers sufficient coverage. Luc reached the shore first and waited for his men. Buch arrived second shortly followed by Big Duck. They removed their fins and changed into climbing boots. Next, they put on night goggles. From their position, Luc surveilled the situation. They could either climb the cliff to the top in a relatively straight line, or circle the cliff, hike in the opposite direction, and follow the road south to the location.
The cliff being over 200 feet high, climbing it would be too physically taxing, if not impossible. Instead, Luc decided that they would circle the cliff further to the North where the climb to the road level was easier. That way, they could preserve their strength. From there, they would follow the edge to the location, keeping away from the road as much as possible.
“Can you believe all this?” asked Buch as the three men walked the shore in a haze of darkness and wet cold.
“What do you think we’ll find there?” Big Duck joined in.
“Aliens.” Luc cast Buch a side look. “What? You don’t remember that video I sent you? Aliens built the pyramids. Now, there is no doubt in my mind about it.”
The soft sand gave way to rock. “Quit fucking around, and hand me the rope. We make our way up from here.” The cliff parted before them, going up east at a 50-degree angle like a steep old crumbling staircase. They made their way up, the 150 feet vertical gain stretching to 195 feet horizontally. Around 50 feet from the top of the cliff, the stone staircase came to a dead halt. Two feet above where the men stood, a pathway 40 degrees steep would take them the rest of the 50 feet of vertical gain to the top of the cliff.
The men reached the top after a 90-minute hike. They were half a mile north of their goal. They kept to the edge of the cliff, away from the road where, occasionally, a car or a truck would drive by.
Luc kept checking their coordinates. They were almost there.
“We’re there.”
At first, they started checking the area at the top of the cliff for holes or any indication as to where an entrance may be, but they could not find anything. The red stone was unbroken. “I don’t think we’ll find anything here. Someone else would have years ago.”
Luc walked to the edge of the cliff. “Guys, come here.”
Buch and Big Duck joined him by the edge. “Switch to thermal imaging. Do you see that down there?” Under their feet, on the face of the cliff, several little slivers of light punctured the rock.
Luc turned to face the two SEALs. “Here is what we’ll do. We make a fixed anchor. I will climb down to the closest light source and insert a spy camera through the hole.”
Nick cranked his neck to the right and walked away. “Wait. Do you see that over there?” He walked further to the South a few feet ahead and then stopped. “The light here is fainter, but we’ll have something to step on.” He crouched down. “What do you think?”
Under them was a small platform six feet deep. Luc decided to take that route. They made the climb down fairly easily. The platform was made of a rock that measured nine feet in width at the junction with the cliff, barely enough to accommodate three big men.
Now that they were closer to the hole, they could make out its light more easily. It was three feet in diameter and endlessly deep.
“Hand me the spy camera.” Buch gave Luc the device, a small camera in a tube five feet long. He inserted it down the pitless hole.
“What do you see?” asked Big Duck. “Nothing. It’s not long enough. I can’t hear anything either.” Grizzly pulled the device back out.
“We need to get in there. The camera shows that the tunnel continues deep downward. For all we know, the end of it could be underwater. One of us will go down slowly by a rope, and extend the camera the rest of the way.”
Luc looked at the hole and wondered who should go down. “Aight, I’ll go,” volunteered Buch. “Aight,” nodded Luc.
Buch wore a harness while Grizzly and Big Duck secured an anchor for the rope. They attached the man to the rope. Luc double-checked the ropes, “Looks good.”
Buch sat by the edge of the tunnel. He extended a hand down and started feeling around the texture of the tunnel. The underside of the slide was smooth while its ceiling was sharp, offering the SEAL little room for hand movement. He would be dependent on his friends lowering him down slowly while he handled the camera.
He crawled in, feet first. “Stop, over.” Buch mouthed through his communication headset once he was a few feet from the end of the tunnel. Above, Luc and Big Duck rolled the rope around the anchor, “What do you see? Over,” he heard Luc ask through his earpiece.
“The tunnel ends in a pool. Beyond it, there is a big room covered in those symbols from the briefing, over.”
“Roger, do you see any movements? Over.”
Buch moved the camera around looking for any signs of movement at different angles, “Negative.”
“Wait, the room appears to have levels going down in the center. I can’t make out what’s there from my location.” They lowered the rope. Buch’s feet touched cold water. Slowly, he was submerged up to his chest. He crouched down in the shallow pool and whispered, “The place doesn’t seem to be submerged, the pool is just chest-level, over.”
The line went silent, “Buch, do you copy?”
“You have to come and see this. The coast is clear, over.” He said after a while.
Luc and Big Duck exchanged curious glances. “I’ll go first,” decided Luc. He plunged in feet first, lowering himself in a controlled descent using the rope. Once he was in the pool, Big Duck followed, “Coming down, over.”
He looked around the room from his crouched position in the water, noting details and nooks. He could only see one point of entry from where he stood, that being the narrow tunnel by the pool.
The place was big, with a high ceiling and a considerable surface area. He walked to Buch.
“What the fuck.” Big Duck was open-mouthed behind the two men. “Is that...”
“A girl,” finished Buch.
An angel was floating in a tunnel of light in the center of the room, thought Luc.