John O'Brien - Conspiracy

Returning quickly, the team moves to where the lanterns are illuminating the small area. Greg closes the door and attaches the broken lock before joining them. Another steel door blocks an upward tunnel that branches off and Kyle identifies it as the main entrance.

“The tunnel heads up into the main building above.”

Greg tests the door and finds it unlocked. A key extends from the inset lock. Greg turns the key and locks the door.

“You two stay here and keep out of sight,” he says, detailing two soldiers to stay behind.

The three remaining continue into the cave system. Kyle leads as Greg doesn’t want to lead them astray by taking a random exit or missing the one they need. Coming to an intersection, a cave branches to the left, another heads to the right, and the one they are on continues straight ahead. Kyle turns and heads down the branch to the right. The cave width fluctuates as they proceed, sometimes wide enough for two abreast and at others, there’s only enough room for one to squeeze through. Although the path is straight, it varies in elevation and, contrary to what Kyle said earlier, they are seldom able see very far in advance.

With their night vision goggles lowered, they move rapidly yet quietly in a crouch, their carbines out in front ready to engage anyone they should they encounter. Anyone they meet is considered a hostile in this environment and they’ll get the first shot in and either move up or withdraw quickly in the dark.

After a time, Greg makes out a yellow glow of light ahead illuminating the width of the cave. It literally looks like the light at the end of the tunnel. Kyle halts with Greg close behind. The other soldier with them goes to his knee and covers their rear. Even though there are two guarding their backside, there is no telling where someone might materialize with all of the cave’s offshoots.

“That’s the Canopy Hall ahead. I don’t know where the captives will be since the cavern is so large,” Kyle whispers.

Greg takes the lead, knowing now where they need to go. He inches forward in the freezing cold of the cave. Small stalactites hang from the ceiling, dirty yet with gleams of ice showing. His boots shuffle across the gritty surface as he crouches with his M-4 pointing steadily in front of him. Plumes of frosted breath fill the lower part of his vision as he exhales, vanishing over his shoulders as he pushes on. The flare of light ahead grows in size with each step.

As he approaches, he sees that the cave opens up. Faint voices are heard from ahead, rising and falling in volume. Greg can’t make out individual words, but it’s apparent one person is speaking loudly. Sweat trickles down the side of his face despite the freezing temperatures. His hands grip his M-4 loosely but with tension at the same time. His breath comes quicker and he feels his heart rate kick up a notch. The chill air on his ears makes them ache and he feels both hot and cold simultaneously.

He eases against the wall to minimize his outline in the center of the hall. If someone comes their way, he’ll drop them where they stand. With the team still in the dark, any return fire from others will be directed down the center of the cave. He inches closer.

At the edge of the light, Greg notes that the pathway descends and extends through the middle of the cavern which stretches out to either side. The voice becomes louder and other voices join in as if cheering, echoing off the hard walls of the cavern. Greg peeks into the wide cavity.

Lanterns are scattered throughout the cavern causing alternating places of brightness and gloom. Shadows dance across the floor and wall like wraiths. To his immediate left, he sees two guards sitting against the rock walls, their knees drawn up and attention focused around a corner from where the voices are coming. They are in a small notch extending into the bedrock away from the central cavern. Around the corner from their sitting place, more light glares. And between the two guards, in the center of the notch, four people are chained to a wall.

The four sit despondently with their arms and foreheads resting on drawn up knees. Their tops and pants are tattered and grimy. Any length of hair they have looks like a cross between morning hair and being dragged behind a horse. Of particular note is the four instead of five that should have been there as indicated by Kyle’s sister.

Greg shrugs and motions his findings to the two behind him. He pulls them close and whispers his plan. He’ll take out the guards quietly and then move up to observe around the corner. The two are to search the guards for keys and begin unshackling the prisoners. He feels his pulse pounding as he’s about to step into that fine line between being hidden and opening himself to the potential of getting caught. Action which can draw attention to them is near and approaching like a speeding freight train.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he eases around the corner. The guards are still preoccupied with the person that is out of sight and talking. He centers his aiming reticle on the nearest one and waits. Soon, the shouting voices that he’s heard from time to time erupt in the cavern and he squeezes the trigger. The carbine kicks against his shoulder — one delivery is outbound. He quickly shifts his aim to the other guard and fires while the sound of cheering still echoes off the walls. His suppressed, subsonic rounds both connect a second apart. Blood splashes against the light brown walls and both men slump to the side leaving dark smears on the walls.

Greg is up before the second body hits and places a round in each head as he hastens past them in a crouch. The single voice picks up again as Greg drops prone and peers around the corner.

Across the hall, a gaggle of men stand with their backs to him. Unable to see beyond the last row of people, he still gets the impression that there are approximately thirty gathered. On the wall on the far side, over their heads, shadows flickers from the light of a fire. Greg still can only catches snippets as they bounce off the granite.

“Work of the gods… you fools… sacrifice will… demons sent forth… appeased… the… demand it…”

This reminds Greg of the prison where he and Jack entered to conduct a similar rescue. Only this has a more maniacal aspect to it. He can’t really explain the difference except to say that this has more of a heated fervor to it — bordering or passing into true insanity. The other was one man, although crazy himself, that had some control. But this seems like it has a fever attached to it — almost demonic.

He doesn’t know if the people standing in front of him actually believe what the man is spouting or if they just like hurting people. That really doesn’t matter at the moment as he is now in a race against time. At some point, the talking will end and the people will leave to go about their business. And that will carry them his way. Everyone he sees is armed, and most appear to have some flavor of an AR-15 or M-4. If his team is engaged, they won’t be able to outgun the group.

Greg turns back to where his two teammates are trying key after key in the padlocks that hold the captives in their manacles. Between the prisoners, empty manacles hang from U-bolts that have been driven into the rock. Where they came up with so many shackles is beyond him.

“Come on…hurry up,” Greg whispers.

“We’re trying, sir. There must be a hundred keys here,” Kyle replies.

Greg turns his attention back to the gathering. Another cheer rises from them. The anxiety of staying here for so long grows within until Greg doesn’t know if he can stand it any longer. He gets the feeling that this little soirée is drawing to a close. He’s about to say fuck it and leave with what they have when he feels a tap on his leg. He startles and turns to see Kyle mouth, ‘We’re ready.’