The Spy

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Latest excerpt from the first book in the Atlantis Series. To find out more about Bob Mayer and his books check out his blog at http://writeitforward.wordpress.com. Every Tuesday he does a blog called "True Lies" which discusses various fiction he's written and what in them is real and what isn't. 

CHAPTER TWELVE 

The sleep of the dead, Ariana thought, listening to the uneasy slumber of her fellow prisoners. Having been awake for over twenty-four straight hours and with no course of action available, they had decided to try to get some rest. She’d also ordered Ingram to turn off even the emergency power lights, trying to conserve their batteries as much as possible, leaving the inside of the plane in darkness, other than the two gold beams crossing the main console area and the golden glow coming from Argus’s hardware consoles. 

She knew she needed to clear her head and come up with a course of action, but her brain was so tired she could barely think. Still, though, sleep eluded her, as images of Mansor death crowded to the forefront while large snakes slithered about in her subconscious, jaws snapping shut and tongues hissing. 

The golden beam in Argus had stopped expanding. Apparently it had accessed everything it needed. They had pulled more access panels off and discovered that a golden beam came out of the back side of Argus’s mainframe and disappeared into the ceiling. Ariana had no doubt that the golden beam she had seen coming out of the rotodome was the same one. 

No new gold beams had come into the plane, nor had there been a repeat of the sliding noise. Ariana had described the massive seven-headed snake to the others, but she had seen the uncomprehending looks in their eyes. She knew if it had not been for them hearing the noise earlier they would not believe her at all. As it was, she knew they were giving her the benefit of the doubt in an insane situation, something she wasn’t too happy about. 

Ariana turned on her side, trying to get comfortable in her desk chair when she heard a low noise. Someone, or something, was moving through the passageway. Ariana reached down and pulled out the Berretta. As quietly as she could, she checked the chamber, making sure a round was loaded. Then she pulled back the hammer, locking it to the rear. She picked up a mini-mag light from her desktop. Gripping the light and gun tightly, she got out of her chair. 

The noise had gone forward, past her compartment to the radio area. She followed, moving stealthily. There was the muffled metal on metal noise of a cabinet being opened. 

Ariana held the butt of the gun in her right hand, finger on the trigger and with her left, the mini-mag alongside the barrel. She pressed the on switch for the flashlight as she turned the corner for the communications area. 

She caught movement and her finger tightened on the trigger, stopping a hair short of firing as she recognized Hudson crouched over something on the floor. 

“Don’t move!” Ariana ordered. 

“Jesus!” Hudson exclaimed, blinking in the flashlight’s glow. “You scared the piss out of me.” He started to stand. 

“I said don’t move,” Ariana repeated. She stepped forward, the muzzle centered on him. 

Hudson froze. “What’s wrong?” 

“What are you doing?” 

“Just checking on some things,” Hudson said. 

“In the dark?” Ariana slid left, keeping the radio man locked in the beam, gun still pointing at him. She wanted to see what he had been working on. 

“I didn’t want to wake anyone up,” Hudson said. He reached down for what was lying on the floor. “I just--” 

Ariana rapped the muzzle of the gun on the back of his hand, bringing a yelp of pain from Hudson. “I said leave it.” She stuck the gun in his chest. “Back up.” 

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