Face of the Enemy
by Mapu

Thanks: to Rosemary for her help with editing this story – really appreciated!

Disclaimer: Veritas: The Quest belongs to Touchstone and the ABC Corporation

Solomon knew he was being hunted.

Whoever was following him was good… really good. Only occasionally did faint, barely recognised sounds of pursuit reach his ears. The skill of his pursuer was impressive; even an expert tracker would find it impossible to move with such silence in the near darkness of the temple and across the rough, age-cracked floors, thickly coated with years of accumulated dried leaves and other jungle debris. Solomon knew he couldn't achieve anything near the kind of stealth this person moved with. Impressive, and more than a little concerning… a tracker this good was obviously a professional, probably a Dorna operative or someone hired by them, either way not likely to be someone who could be reasoned with or easily swayed from their mission. If that mission was meant to harm him, then the archaeologist knew he had serious problems.

Stopping for a few moments and taking a deep breath of the musty mildew-scented air, Solomon pretended to examine an inscription carved into a nearby entrance arch while he listened for any tell-tale sounds from behind him. A whisper of movement, that may or may not have been the wind sounded. It was closer than he expected it to be, whoever it was, they were getting nearer. The next chamber was probably the inner sanctuary where he would find the prize. Solomon was reasonably sure that the attack wouldn't come until he had retrieved the artefact, until then it made sense that he would simply be followed. Afterwards he knew there would be a confrontation, before that he would need a plan.

The altar room was where and what Solomon expected it to be, a massive sealed chamber, walls covered in intricate inlays and designs, a large open space in front of the altar and a priest's preparation room behind the altar. The altar itself was a huge multilayered platform with dozens of massive inverted cones of carved rock suspended overhead in an apparently random placement. Kneeling before the first level of the altar the archaeologist brought his eyes down level to the raised base. From that perspective he could see faint ridges which coincided with the suspended rock formations.

Definitely a booby-trap… probably with a counterweighted trigger, Solomon thought.

Gazing upward at the seemingly precariously balanced trap Solomon had an idea, and with a little luck he just might get out of this alive after all. But first he needed to find the artefact. Taking extreme care to maintain his balance while he checked each step before he made it the archaeologist moved slowly across the base level of the altar. When he reached the other side he again brought his eyes level to the next floor. Again the slight variations in the surface of the floor were visible. Level by level Solomon made his way up to the altar. His concentration on the task was so encompassing that he lost all track of the time. A glance at his watch let him know he'd been working at reaching the altar for nearly twenty minutes.

Keeping his gaze casual, Solomon checked out the room. I wonder where my stealthy friend has gotten to?

There was no sign of anyone else, but there were also a number of recesses, which in the low light could easily hide a person. Not wanting to draw attention to the fact that he knew he'd been followed, Solomon turned back to the altar. It didn't take long to find the artefact. The wafer-thin stone tablet wasn't hidden, simply placed within a latched recess embedded in the altar top. After making sure there were no additional traps the archaeologist lifted it clear and blew the dust off its surface, then examined the inscriptions. Satisfied that it was the real item and not a decoy, Solomon gently placed it into a padded carry-all.

Now that he had the artefact Solomon knew it wouldn't be long before the assault came. Hopefully whoever was lurking in the shadows waiting for him was smart enough to wait until he was clear of the ancient traps before trying their own trap, but after that he knew all bets were off. Despite his need for caution Solomon moved as quickly as possible back down off the altar. As he moved he surreptitiously felt around in his pack for a weighty item that he didn't absolutely need. Eventually he found a suitable piece of analysis equipment, unfortunately it was an expensive item but that couldn't be helped.

With only a few feet left to cover, Solomon jumped from the altar platform throwing the heavy item directly onto one of the trigger points. Without hesitation he sprinted toward the back of the temple toward the priest's alcove.

Behind him the rock spikes began to detach from the roof and come crashing down. As each spike struck the ground it punched a hole through, collapsing a section of the floor to reveal a deep pit beneath. The substructure was something Solomon hadn't expected and was unusual in this sort of temple. Making it to the protection of the alcove with barely seconds to spare, he heard a cry from the temple floor as his pursuer was not so fortunate. Turning, Solomon was just in time to see the shape of a man falling into a pit that had suddenly opened when a particularly large section of floor collapsed. Finally the last of the rock spikes fell and the dust began to settle.

The temptation to leave without checking on the fate of the stranger was strong, and there were several very good reasons why that course of action would be the smart thing for him to do. But even as he debated it with himself, Solomon knew he couldn't do it. He would never just leave another person in a situation like that.

Looking around Solomon saw a large outcropping of rubble where he could tie off a safety rope. He reached the edge of the collapsed section and inched his way down a steeply-sloped section that hadn't fallen until he could see below.

Several meters down, semi-covered in mud and rubble, a large man lay sprawled on his back. Solomon had no doubt that this was the man who had been following him. The pit was more like a swamp, it smelt stale and reeked of rotting vegetation, and he could see the faint gleam of surface water in patches around the rocks. At first glance the other man looked to be either unconscious or dead but then one of his arms moved, weakly pulling toward the gash on his head.

"Ah, darn it," Solomon muttered with a heavy sigh, going down into that pit was not going to be fun.

"Just keep still, I'm coming," he called out, as the man below began to struggle ineffectually against the debris trapping him.

He let his body slide over the edge, trusting the rope to take his weight and climbed down. Once his feet touched the ground, Solomon detached from the rope and made his way to the other man, quickly surveying his condition. The man had a number of injuries, including a nasty head wound but he was in far better shape than expected. He concentrated on the task of clearing enough of the rocks away so that he could drag the trapped man free before attempting any medical treatment. He only briefly stopped once to look up when overhead the remaining temple floor groaned and dropped a few more inches.

There wasn't much time, at any minute the rest of the temple floor could come down. The last of the rocks cleared, Solomon grabbed the front of the big man's jacket and hauled him up, and pulled one arm across his shoulders to help support the weight.

"Thank you for coming back for me," the man said.

"Yeah, no problem… let's move!" Solomon said, still supporting the other and conscious of the ominous noises coming from above.

Broken rock and debris littered the ground making their progress difficult.

They were only meters from safety when the rest of the floor collapsed. Solomon shoved the other man as hard as he could and tried to leap clear himself, but there just wasn't enough time. Something heavy hit him hard from above, knocking him down and shoving his body deep into the chilly mud.

Solomon woke. He lay slightly propped up, his back resting against a smooth rock, his body caked in drying mud resting on what seemed to be an island of debris surrounded by swamp. Close by a small fire flickered and fought for life in the damp air, I'm still in the pit, Solomon realised. Turning his head slightly he saw the man he'd tried to save sitting near him, watching him. The other had a thick padded bandage covering his right temple, just a trace of blood staining through, but his eyes were clear and calm. Solomon tried to sit up but discovered he was too weak to manage the feat.

The man turned his attention to the fire where he lifted a stick with some kind of animal impaled on it from the coals and turned it over.

"My name is Vincent," he said.

"Solomon Zond," he replied automatically.

"I know," Vincent said with a slight smile.

Solomon grimaced at himself, of course Vincent would know his name, the man had been tracking him. Suddenly Solomon realised the pack, where he'd put the artefact was gone from his back. He looked around and was surprised and relieved to find it quite close to him. It was covered in mud and in the flickering light had at first looked like a rock. He tried to reach for it but discovered his left arm was bandaged to his body and he was unable to move it. It was a surprise to him because apart from an incredible lack of energy, Solomon felt no pain.

"You have a serious injury to your shoulder, and have lost a lot of blood. I've given you a shot of morphine and done what I could for it," Vincent told him.

"The find. Where is the tablet?" Solomon asked suspiciously.

Vincent lifted the pack up and took out the padded bag and handed it to the archaeologist. Solomon quickly checked the bag's contents and was reassured to find the artefact still safely stored inside.

"Why didn't you take it or destroy it, or whatever your mission was?"

Vincent looked him in the eyes and one side of his mouth curved in a small smile. "My mission has changed."

"Yeah… to what?"

Vincent didn't answer. Instead he went to the fire and removed the cooked animal, cut a portion off and handed the rest to Solomon.

"What's this?" Solomon asked examining the skewered meat.

"You don't want to know. Eat it, you need the strength."

He'd eaten all sorts of foods during his career, some of his favourites were foods most 'civilized' people would consider disgusting. He took a tentative bite, cautious of the heat and recognised the flavour. It tasted pretty good, a little overdone and chewy but not bad for a rat. Both he and Vincent ate in silence. It was a shame this guy was the enemy, he made a decent companion and was obviously very resourceful.

"Thanks for helping me," he said as he finished his meal.

"It was the least I could do for my new employer."

Solomon was glad he'd finished eating or he would have choked. "What? Work for me? You… you want to work for me?"

"Yes. Is that so hard to believe? You have risked your life twice to save mine. I owe you, and I can be of great assistance."

"Oh, yeah, How so?"

"You need someone like me, Solomon, to protect you… from someone like me."

"You're Dorna, tell me I'm wrong. Why should I trust you?"

"You have come to Dorna's attention, never a good thing. You should trust no one, but if you are to reach your goal you will need to depend on many. You cannot survive this quest and you need help to find the truth."

Solomon sighed and leaned back, he was beginning to feel the pain in his shoulder. "We're getting a little ahead of ourselves aren't we? We're both injured and trapped in a pit in the middle of the Cambodian jungle. We'll be lucky to survive at all."

Vincent smiled and fed a few semi-dried twigs to the fire. "You'll think of something."

Finita.