CHAPTER eight:

Reality Check

February 1ST, 2012…

The trip from Gujarat to New Delhi was anything but average. All normal modes of transport were out, cars, trains, planes; anything that could be observed or tracked was out of the question, at least according to Parmita. Of course, Gregory persisted to complain about the long trek until Parmita threatened to pistol-whip him and leave him in a ditch somewhere. After that, silence came more easily. They used only the most untraveled, rural routes and avoided towns and villages as best they could. Eventually, they fell in with a market caravan heading to New Delhi and disguised themselves in local dress. Parmita wrapped her face up in a head scarf and only left her eyes uncovered. She insisted that Gregory keep his head down and not to make eye contact with anyone. Of course, he failed on multiple occasions between Gujarat and New Delhi and subsequently felt the chill of Parmita's icy scorn. However, he soon realised that New Delhi itself would be the hardest part. Gregory knew New Delhi, he had petitioned many high-level politicians here for support in overruling the Gujarat authorities so he might explore the underwater ruins. His efforts were in vain, of course, but it did not prevent him enjoying the sights and experiences to be had in the city. Therefore, the fact that Parmita insisted they take the most roundabout course through the city's most decrepit and often most dangerous areas, following back alleys, did not appeal to him one bit. Despite his internal protestations, he dared not voice his objections.

It was nearly dusk before they arrived at an unremarkable building on the far side of the city from where they entered. It was a four-storey affair and quite run down with cracking plaster on the walls, several broken windows, and a warped front door that swung wide open. Conditions inside were no better. Everything was damp and a mouldy smell hung heavy in the air. Paint peeled from every wall and assorted debris littered the rotten floor slats. Gregory watched his step, gingerly tiptoeing over piles of rubbish whilst Parmita deftly and coolly side-stepped every obstacle without looking down once. As far as he could tell, the building was abandoned save for a few squatters, and it seemed to lack electricity and probably any other services. He had no idea why they were here, and he'd almost worked up enough bravery to question Parmita when she suddenly crouched down. Thinking she'd seen someone up ahead, he followed suit. However, she reached down and pulled up a sheet of plastic covered in dust and debris that concealed a trapdoor. With some effort, she pulled it up and artificial light lit up the almost pitch-black corridor.

There was a short flight of stairs that led down into a basement floor. Parmita ushered Gregory in and then pulled the hatch down behind them. The space was large and three desks boasted radio and computer equipment that Gregory couldn't begin to wrap his head around. Most of the walls were covered in newspaper clippings, technical reports, schematics, building layouts, you name it and somewhere it was pinned up. Then, out of a walled-off corner furthest from the stairs came a wiry, Indian man wearing nothing but a pair of briefs. He turned and saw Gregory and seemed to be reaching behind him onto a desk, probably for a concealed weapon. He then caught sight of Parmita and stopped groping around but still did not withdraw his arm which now tensed as if he was gripping something tightly. She seemed unimpressed and said, "Really, Chakri, I could have killed you ten times by now."

"Well, I normally don't anticipate visitors."

"A foolish policy and a poor excuse, this place is not exactly a safe haven. It might not necessarily be an A-re who comes nosing down here."

"It's okay, Parmita, the only visitors I have are prostitutes, and they're usually frivolous, flighty little things. I doubt they could distinguish one rundown hovel from another if they were pressed."

"You invite women down here? Women who would have quite a bit to gain by volunteering info about your location to the right people?"

"Keep your panties on, sweetheart, I slip them a little something before they leave."

"Date-rape drugs?" Parmita looked like she'd spontaneously combust.

"Yeah but it's not like I use them to get laid. They come willingly, and they leave the same way, just a little more dopey and with some short-term memory issues."

"For fuck sake, can you not act professionally for once?"

"I object to that, I do my work to the utmost standards, but a man has needs, and it is quite lonely down here. By the way, who's our pervy guest? No offence, man, I take your looking as a compliment, but I don't like to cross swords with other men so to speak."

Gregory knew he had not been looking in that way, but fear of the situation had led him to freeze unblinkingly. At least he hoped so, he had enough going on at this point without having to question his sexuality. Parmita cast her eyes to heaven and said, "This is Gregory, my latest employer now become pain-in-my-backside. And don't worry, Chakri, you're not his type. If anything, he's as randy as you when women are about. However, you might want to consider some trousers, Chakri, you are rather protrusive, and poor Gregory might find that rather intimidating."

"Why, Parmita, that is probably the nicest thing you've ever said to me." He smiled quite contentedly and then regarded Gregory with mock regret, saying, "Sorry, man, but don't stress out about it. Not all of us can be this gifted."

Chakri returned to the walled-off compartment for a few minutes. The conversation happened too fast for Gregory to object and despite all that was happening, he found himself very offended. Parmita, he sensed, knew as much, and he believed an amused smile briefly touched her lips. Chakri returned wearing precious little more than what he had been, a pair of tan linen shorts and a worn white vest. He sat at a computer opposite his compartment, and Parmita pulled up a rather rickety chair and sat facing him. Chakri said, "What's your name by the way, man?"

"…Am, Gregory, Gregory Barnes…"

"The famous dissenter, I've heard of you. Full of wild ideas, at least in the eyes of the archaeological community, and very rich, too, from writing them down in all your bestsellers. I guess if nature has left you at a disadvantage, then you need some amount of flash to attract the ladies."

"Now hold on just a sec…"

"It's okay, man, we all have our ways and means. By the way, I apologise for my state of dress when you came in that disturbed you so. As I mentioned, I don't normally have unexpected visitors, and it does get stiflingly warm down here during the day, especially if I have company, you're lucky you didn't get a full frontal actually."

"Dear Lord…" Gregory stepped away a moment.

Parmita interjected, "You know, it wouldn't hurt if you exercised some modesty now and again. I do come down here unannounced often enough."

"Yeah, but it's nothing you haven't seen already, and I'm totally at ease with it."

"As long as you're comfortable, I suppose."

"I'm glad we're in agreement. Now, I assume you had something more important to discuss with me besides my proclivities towards near-naturism."

"Hmm, indeed, I need you to bring me up to speed with A-re activities for the last three months."

"All their activities in the city? That's a lot more info than you generally require."

"I mean the country, Chakri."

"As in India?"

"No, Chakri, Monaco, of course, I mean India!"

"Okay, okay, rein in the hormones please."

Gregory was astounded that this depraved lady's man would dare speak to a woman like Parmita in this way. She, however, let it slide and said, "I had an encounter which leads me to believe they have something big in the works. I plan to throw as many wrenches into their operation as possible."

"You normally want to know enough to avoid them."

"Things change. I have personal reasons to pursue them. In addition, they attempted to steal some finds made at the site in the Bay of Khambhat. I want to know why."

"Well, surely you of all people know the answer to that question. They destroy archaeological evidence of humanity's past as a matter of course."

Gregory exclaimed, "You mean you know, too?"

"Seriously? Man, I am a part of a black ops division that specifically targets the activities of the Sons of Ares and has been doing so for the past fifty years. I have worked this post for eighteen years, spying and collecting data to pass on to headquarters .So yeah, I have a fair knowledge of their MO."

"Eighteen years? How old are you?"

"How flattering, I know, I know, I am a rather spry and youthful-looking forty-two year old. Man, are you sure you're not the least bit bicurious because you're kinda flirting with me?"

Gregory stormed off in agitation. Parmita said, "Don't let him get under your skin, Mr. Barnes, it'll only please him all the more and given the turn this conversation has taken, I doubt you want to do that."

"Whatever! Why's the CIA so interested in a cult who steal and desecrate archaeological artefacts anyways?"

"Their operation is a lot broader than that, my friend. They have their fingers in everything from governments to major corporations to crime syndicates. There's little going on in the world that they don't have a hand in and if the CIA hadn't accidently stumbled upon the group in the early Sixties; they'd probably have usurped whole governments by now. They're not just about secrecy and stealth; they're about money, resources and power, too."

"But if they've been around as long as you both think they have, how come they haven't conquered the world already?"

Parmita answered, "Many have stood against them over the millennia. A number of ancient family lines, including my own, dedicated themselves to fighting the oppression of the Sons of Ares. Unfortunately, most of them have died out. Those few who have survived have usually disappeared into obscurity, their descendants having no knowledge of their lineage's valiant past, except for mine of course."

"It seems to me then that the CIA is the latest contender fighting an implacable, even invincible enemy."

Chakri answered, "Implacable, yes, invincible? Certainly not. We aren't operating alone either. The Sons of Ares are a global threat and therefore require a global response. The intelligence agencies of almost every country on the planet work to undermine them through espionage and sabotage. In the Sixties and Seventies when only the CIA, MI6, and the KGB were aware of the A-re, they were poised to instigate a number of major coups in the corporate world and in dozens of national governments. Today, thanks to our actions, the reach of their operations has scaled back to less than fifty percent of what it was then. That's not to say they're not a threat anymore, but they are certainly a less significant one."

"That's amazing. It's hard to believe all this could be going on in the world and for so many years."

Parmita cocked an eyebrow and said, "You surprise me, Mr. Barnes. Given your field of expertise, I thought such a claim would come as little surprise to you."

"My field is archaeology and finding truths about the distant past that no one else will look for, but if you told me a month ago that all this was happening under our very noses, I would have scoffed at the idea."

"You are a somewhat more complex individual than I previously believed."

"Thank you, I think."

"Now, Chakri, about that info…"

"Well, Parmita, you're gonna have to be more specific. I can give you everything I've got for the past three months in India, but it won't be light reading, and a lot of it is largely routine."

"Then just fill me in on their less routine operations."

"Well, to be honest, there's little in the way of unusual. They attempted a terrorist strike in Mumbai, but the device was diffused before it detonated. There was an assassination attempt here actually on the CIA's contact in Indian Intelligence, but that was thwarted, too."

"Chakri, these things are the least boring of the A-re's routine activities. Is there even anything going on internationally involving India?"

"Well, now that you mention it, a large shipment of unknown content left Gujarat on the 5th of January bound for the Suez Canal. However, after that, we lost track of the transport. We suspect some sort of transfer occurred in the Eastern Med and that the previous ship was sunk. Some floating debris was found in the region that was consistent with that vessel."

"Were any other ships in the area at the time?"

"Ninety-three, of which more than half could have received the A-re ship's cargo. We had trouble keeping track of all of them, but those we've caught up with so far have been cleared. I can give you a list of the remaining suspects, but Parmita, I'll only warn you once, do not compromise our existing operations. Most of the intelligence forces of Europe are on this case, so keep a low profile, and you got nothing from me."

"I know how to be subtle, Chakri. How much of a lead would you say they have?"

"We're monitoring all ports and the Straits of Gibraltar in case they try to make for the Atlantic, but so far, nothing's turned up. You may catch up rather quickly, seeing as they're still trying to make arrangements to unload."

Gregory asked, "This may be a stupid question but couldn't they drop off their cargo at any random beach in the Mediterranean?"

"Well, it was a large cargo container. Unloading off a ship and bringing it ashore would be a tricky venture and then they'd have to find some way to transport it over land. You're right, though, we believe that's what they're contemplating so that they go unobserved, but we're monitoring the whole region via spy satellites, and we're keeping track of all vehicles large enough to transport the container. If a truck approaches some remote beach, we'll know about it."

Parmita said, "Very good, keep me informed through the usual channels and please, do have more consideration for yourself than to be cavorting with whatever wench happens to tickle your fancy."

"Wench? Parmita, I'm hurt. I pay good money to "cavort" with New Delhi's finest female escorts, the best women around. It's just unfortunate that you yourself wouldn't take money for such things."

"…Why, Chakri, I do believe that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"I try, so how much sedative do you think it'll take to knock out Mr. pervy over here?"

"Chakri…"

"What? He can't know about this place any more than the escorts can, and I'm not accustomed to measuring my doses for a man, let alone one his size."

Gregory' self-consciousness caused him to check how much his stomach protruded before considering that he was being threatened with sedation. He said, "I won't speak a word of this, I swear. Besides, if I double-cross you, I'll have Parmita to answer to."

"Indeed, I guess I'm fairly safe then."