Marconi's Secret Jungle Lab: Obliterating the Deep State, #5

Prologue

Pyramid Site on Melville Island

Location: Melville Island, Canada

Year: 1993

A young, fit man—Darren Mathews—watched over an excavation to the tunnels beneath a pyramid on Melville Island. With him was Anna, the former CIA operative in charge of Darren, since when he took charge of security. Nearby, his friend Mitch ran patrols around the site to secure it from wandering civilian eyes. Given the relative isolation of the location, it felt like a rather easy job to Mitch and Darren, but they didn’t complain if Orange decided to give them locations with minimal civilian interference. The technology and inter-dimensional beings that they often encountered at these locations were enough to keep their hands full.

In what appeared to be a momentary breather so far, Darren slumped against a wall and blew on his hands. He leaned over to Anna. So, what’s the deal with the new man there? he whispered.

He pointed to a man near the entrance of the excavation site, William Bill Jenkins, who appeared to be only a few years older than Darren but was clearly a greenhorn to the entire operation.

Anna glanced where Darren was pointing. She looked back, stopped her work, and stood next to Darren. Bill? He’s an archaeologist and an engineer. I read a file on him some time ago. His family’s genetics have been monitored since his father served under Musolini during the Second World War. That man knew a lot about what the SS were doing with their anti-gravity aircraft programs.

Sounds like he could fill me in about a lot of things, Darren said as he wiped his forehead with a handkerchief.

Yup, she said, then lowered her voice. But he’s no joke. Really into Intervention theory. He’s written all sorts of white papers about things that mainstream archeology dismissed and didn’t want to talk about because it blew their fake human history to smithereens. His interest was in Central and South America. You know, Mexico, Chile, Peru, Bolivia, the Andes, those places. Also, Nan Madol. His white paper on that place was eye opening stuff. Bill’s got a really good head on his shoulders.

Bill kneeled precariously close to the opening.

Darren snorted. A good head on his shoulders, huh? A good head wouldn’t get so close to an unsecured opening.

Anna shrugged with the ghost of a smirk dancing across her features. There are different kinds of smart, Mathews. He’s the kind of smart that can tell you from what era of the Mayan Empire a piece of pottery originated and exactly what meal they ate out of it. She paused, examining him from afar. But will also get himself killed reaching into a pit of vipers for that same pottery.

Darren chuckled. As though we wouldn’t all do that for the right price.

And the right discovery.

"You know, I called that Bill guy ‘mate’ this morning and I swear he just about peed his pants from excitement, Darren said as he shook his head. He winced a half-chuckle, half-groan. Said I’m the first Aussie he’s ever met. Americans, I swear—"

Watch yourself, Mathews. He’s not the only American here, remember? In fact, I’m pretty sure we outnumber you on this site.

Yeah, but you all act like you’ve encountered non-terrestrials every time you speak with someone with a different accent than you.

It’s not always because they’re from a different country, you know. I laugh at Southerners the same as I laugh at Aussies.

Darren laughed lightly.

Just cut the man some slack, okay? Let him get settled in, get used to— she started, but Darren cut her off.

You know we don’t have that sort of luxury in this industry.

I mean socially. By all means, if he’s stupid enough to get himself into some trouble with a speeding boulder or some snakes, feel free to chew him out for the both of us. She scanned the perimeter. I’m going to go check on Mitch and the others. You keep an eye on Indiana Jones over there.

Just remember in the screenplay that his character was actually an agent that was working for America’s O.S.S., mate.

Anna slapped Darren on his shoulder blade. "Quit calling me ‘mate,’ Mathews."

Darren just grinned and waited until Anna walked off before turning back to Bill. Despite several of the agents telling him to back off until they could put up support beams, the archaeologist kept edging closer and closer to the rim of the opening. The man was eager to explore and expand his knowledge, something which Darren admittedly admired. If he could only have a little more common sense, he might make a decent team member.

Darren briskly walked up to Bill, stopping far enough away that he was not in any danger of the ground giving way beneath him.

What’s going on, mate? he asked, throwing in the term like someone would throw a dog a bone.

Bill looked over his shoulder at Darren, smiling so broadly it made Darren’s cheeks hurt to see it.

It’s incredible, Bill replied. I never thought that there would actually be pyramids up here. He looked around with his arms out. In Canada? He looked back over the edge. "Egypt, of course. South America, most certainly. And Bosnia, too. I’ve even confirmed reports about there being eighty pyramids in China. But in Canada? And who knows where these tunnels will lead us to! Once we can access them. I’d dare say that they run under the entire island."

Anything you can tell us about the beings that built it?

From here? No, not until we can get down there. Dr. Aranda said that she’s found some symbols that could help us once she trans—

Darren saw the collapse of the opening beginning before Bill could finish his sentence. Like a flash of lightening, he leaped towards Bill and ripped him away as the dirt crumbled beneath them. The tunnel was quicker than Darren was though, as falling debris covered one of Bill’s lower legs.

Wuh-wuh—

Hang on, Darren yelled to him. He dug his heels into the ground and pulled on Bill with all his might. He could feel the earth beneath his own feet becoming unstable.

Shit, please tell me that he’s wrong about these tunnels running all under the island, Darren thought as he tightened his grip on Bill.

Okay, mate, get ready. I’m gonna have to throw you—

"What?"

Okay, now!

With a surge of strength, Darren pulled Bill and flung the man behind him. He didn’t throw him far, but it was far enough to get Bill out of danger. Darren scrambled after him and made it to Bill’s side just as the ground he had planted himself on moments before disappeared into the tunnel. Panting, he held a hand out to Bill and helped him to his feet.

You all right, mate? he asked as other agents and security contractors gathered around them.

Bill had turned pale as a ghost but otherwise appeared fine. His clammy hand took Darren’s and he rose on shaking legs. Y-yes, th-thank you.

What the hell happened here, Mathews? Anna demanded as she and Mitch converged on the scene.

The opening collapsed, Darren explained. Actually, I think this whole tunnel did. We need to get security and engineering on this ASAP. He turned to Mitch. Don’t let anyone near it until we have it cleared and see if we can excavate it again.

Anna looked over to the other military personnel that were there. Well? You heard the man, get to it! She turned back to examine Bill. You okay, Jenkins?

Bill slowly nodded, still absorbing the situation. I think so, thanks to... Mathews, was it?

I prefer Darren.

All right, Darren.

Well, good job, Mathews, Anna said. Jenkins, Anna glared sternly at Bill, you need to be more careful. This isn’t some school-sanctioned field trip or a dusty old library where you research dissertations. You can and will get killed if you don’t learn to have some common sense. I’m sure as hell not going to let you take Orange’s best security man down with you.

Bill nodded again. Yes, ma’am.

All right then. Anna shifted her attention to Darren. Mathews, you, Mitch, and I need to go over some new safety procedures to make sure this sort of thing doesn’t happen again.

Darren scratched an itch that he had behind his left ear. I couldn’t agree more. We’ll also want to assign a team of people to fix this mess up so that we can regain some semblance of order and structural integrity on our walls here.

Anna, Mitch, and Darren were about to walk off when Bill touched Darren’s shoulder. Darren faced him with a quizzical look. Yeah?

I just... I wanted to say thank—

It’s okay, mate. Darren headed off a soppy apology.

Well that was ... that was a really close call for me, and if you hadn’t been there—

Don’t mention it, mate. Just doing my job.

Yes, I know, but if I hadn’t been acting like such an idiot...

You said it, not me, Darren joked to himself, but he only gave Bill a grin and patted him on the shoulder. Don’t worry, really, he said aloud. We look out for each other around here, mate.

Yes, but—

Seriously, Darren laughed, I was just doing my job. Just promise me that you won’t get that close to an unsupported opening again. I don’t know if I’ll feel like helping you out a second time. He winked, causing Bill to laugh.

Trust me, that won’t be a problem now.

Good. I’ll see you around.

But Darren—

Bill! Dr. Emily Aranda called out from the crowd as she ran up to him. Bill, are you all right?

Bill sighed and turned to Emily. Yes, I am, thank you for asking.

You sure are a lucky man, you know that?

Bill grinned. Yes, yes, I’m well aware.

Well, while I have your ear, Dr. Aranda said. I wanted to show you some translations.

Translations? For the—

Stuff I’ve been working on.

Of course, of course, where are they?

Emily waved out her hand. Right this way, she said.

With a sigh of relief, Darren used the momentary distraction to catch up with Mitch and Anna. He knew that Bill would not let this matter rest without some sort of repayment; that much was clear from the man’s personality already.

Little did either of them know, Bill would be able to secure that repayment almost immediately thanks to Darren’s own recklessness with a camera at that very same site only a few weeks later.

Chapter One

Welcome to the Jungle

Foot of Inactive Volcano

Location: Andes Mountain Range

Northwestern Venezuela

Year: 2019, July 15th, 12:40 P.M.

Deep within the green expanse, sounds of machetes hacking through thick vegetation mingled with the guttural growls of howler monkeys and the call of the grey-legged tinamou. The hacking grew louder and louder until finally, a fit middle-aged man carved his way through saplings and shrubbery. He stopped, looked about for any danger lying in wait, and then turned to the man coming up behind him.

The man who had taken lead, Darren Mathews, motioned for the other man, Markus Ramsey—a.k.a. Mitch, an old friend of Darren’s from his military and Orange years—to come forward.

Darren wiped sweat from his forehead, which was quickly replaced by more. Looks safe, Mitch. He handed over a canteen. I think we’ve given our friends the slip, he remarked with a slight smirk.

Markus spun the cap off the canteen. Good, Markus said, although the annoyance was clear in his tone. He tipped up the canteen and drank at length. But please, he shoved the canteen back into Darren’s stomach, don’t call me ‘Mitch.’ I’m Markus now. My wife and I are coffee farmers in this area.

My apologies, mate, Darren smiled. Still don’t know why you chose to grow coffee here, though. Darren looked up and around. Venezuela’s barely made up one percent of the world’s coffee market since 2001. Not the empire it used to be.

Markus merely rolled his eyes and shrugged.

Not to mention Venezuela’s economy itself is crap right now, Darren added. I’ve seen the price of toilet paper and chicken down here. Not a pretty sight.

Again, Markus shrugged. What can I tell you, mate? I’m not asking you to buy any toiletries or poultry for me.

You know what I mean.

Well, you drank my coffee back at camp this morning. Have you tasted a finer brew in all your travels?

Darren swallowed a gulp of cool water and replaced the cap. Hmmm, well you have a point there, he said, wiping his mouth. Tasty stuff.

I dare you to find a more secluded place to hide, Markus said, looking around

If you want a good place to hide from Orange and the others, I don’t exactly recommend starting a business or a farm that involves hiring so many locals. You know that they’re suspicious of white people.

Sometimes with good reason, right?

Darren side-eyed his partner.