He had progressed a further twenty metres down the hallway when the building was suddenly filled with the screaming sound of a fire alarm and was thrust into darkness. Voices and shouts could be heard. Boots scuffing and scraping on the linoleum floor as people scurried for the exits. Following the sounds Wade emerged at a rear entrance and saw the staff running toward a dimly lit carpark.
Checking his location, he saw a larger building, further up the mountain, off to the north. Avoiding the crowd of people pouring out the opposite entrance he ran across the manicured lawns. The building was a hangar and a plane was being readied for take-off. The first of the two propellers had started its spinning motion. Wade saw a group of four men and a young girl standing at the entrance watching the pilot and waiting for the plane to leave the enclosure. Using the cover of darkness, he quickly climbed the planes rear stairs and hid behind a tarped box that had been secured to the rails.
As the plane left the hangar he heard the guards, three large bulky Russians and a smaller, wiry Asian climb the steps and help the young Eastern European girl aboard. Her eyes were glazed over and she had all the attributes of being drugged.
They took their seats and the plane taxied down the short runway. The flight lasted forty five minutes. Wade’s GPS showed they had headed in a north westerly direction and landed near Ucluelet, Barkley Sound, British Columbia.
The group, including the pilot, exited the plane and made the short walk to a bunker like facility, three hundred metres east of the runaway and on the shores of a lake. Waiting until the bunker door had closed and the area was plunged back into darkness, Wade crept out of the plane and circled the building. His NVG showed no sign of guards or early warning detection devices. When convinced the surrounds were secure he climbed on the roof of the bunker. Accessing through the exhaust duct he climbed down inside the bunker to be confronted with what appeared to be some form of sacrificial ceremony.
A cavernous arena was lit with thousands of candles and wall fires. The air was thick with overpowering, hallucinogenic incense. Seventy males and females were all dressed in white flowing robes. The combination of heat and their sweat had the thin material clinging and clearly showing off their naked bodies. On the front of each robe was a blood formed image of the inverted Opus Dei symbol. All members of the group had their hair pulled back tightly and dyed black and glossy. The heat was intense and the group was chanting, sweating, and thrusting their hands in the air as they built to a crescendo.
He saw the three bulky Russians remove the clothes of the girl and the Asian delicately cut the inverted symbol onto her chest. They lay her, supine, on an altar and stepped away as the leader approached with a red hot glowing branding iron. Wade noticed how all the attendees continued to look between the altar and a large screen. The hundred square foot screen displayed Samantha Cooper smiling as she watched proceedings.
“The time has come for us to enjoy the fruits of our labour,” came the distorted voice, of Troy, from speakers strategically spread throughout the cave.
With that the leader dropped his robe and standing naked in front of the girl, raised the branding iron above his head and was ready to plunge.
From fifteen feet above Wade aimed his silenced H&K pistol and with one clean shot, hit the leader between the eyes. He instinctively swung to his left and a further two shots took out two of the bulky Russian guards. Leaping from his higher vantage point he landed directly in front of the third Russian. The Russian swung his arm in an attempted Haymaker. Wade ducked under the blow and as the huge fist passed he struck from underneath with a reverse Tiger claw that shattered the Russian’s throat killing him instantly.
Returning his vision back to the group and expecting an onslaught of attackers he was surprised that nobody had moved. With there fists held in the air and the sweat cascading down their face and bodies they all remained rock solid.
The girl was stationary on the altar with the naked leader lying across her legs and the blood from his head shot spread over her chest and face. The entire group was transfixed on the scene at the altar. Troy’s voice screamed, “Get him. Get him. I want him dead. Punishment to all for eternity.”
Still nobody moved, until the wiry Asian appeared and adopted the pose of an experienced martial artist. Wade and the Asian traded blows with both delivering decisive contacts throughout the fight, until a movement in Wade’s peripheral vision momentarily distracted him. As he returned his focus the Asian struck out with a very controlled Tornado Kick that connected to the side of his head, knocking him unconscious.
Barkley Sound
His head hurt, his back and chest was stinging and he could feel his arms pulled above his head. Slowly opening his eyes, he saw he was still in the bunker and was suspended over a pit, hanging by his arms.
He was naked and the stinging sensation, across his back, was from a whipping he’d received. His blood was dripping into the pit and the crowd seemed fascinated by this.
“Well, well mister soldier or whoever you are. I finally get the chance to get rid of you and your tampering in my affairs,” said Cooper watching from the screen.
Wade deducted by the tone of voice that she was still speaking as the personality Troy and he knew from his studies that triggering the onset of one of the other personalities when the patient least expected it could sometimes cause the patient to enter a state of confusion.
“Hope your dolls didn’t suffer too much,” said Wade.
“What?” came the stunned reply.
“You know … dolls all blown to smithereens.”
“It was you … you will pay … I hate you … I want you dead,” she screamed in her childlike state.
Still screaming and yelling, ‘Kill him … kill him.’ Wade felt the support rope cut as he plunged into the pit.
Falling twenty metres into a pitch black hole and not knowing what to expect; he suddenly smashed into the freezing water. Force of the impact caused temporary concussion. Coming to his senses, as he reached the deepest part of his fall, he knew that going directly back to the surface, from where he came, would be suicide. He started breaststroke kicking and five metres later his head crashed into a wall. Changing direction, he kicked ten kicks knowing he would have covered ten metres and then started for the surface.
He could feel the pain in his head and he knew he was in the early stages of oxygen depletion and hypothermia. Hands bound and the water sapping his energy at a frenetic pace he needed to find the surface and get out of the water. A master of controlling his mind he focused on the result not the problem. Lactic acid had built in his legs as he struggled to keep moving and he started to feel the initial onset of loss of consciousness. Concentrating on his US Navy SEAL underwater training, slowly releasing air and relaxing he pushed further toward the surface. With everything around him still completely black and without warning his head smashed into a concrete base.
Concentrating on holding his bound hands against his stomach and using his back as a guide against the concrete, he tried desperately to kick. He knew his kicks were losing their strength and he was drifting in and out of consciousness, possibly even concussion.
Wade had shown he was one of the most gifted Special Forces soldiers throughout his various training regimes. He had proven to be the strongest swimmer, had the greatest endurance, the highest pain threshold and could sustain concentration well after others had succumbed.
With his head about to explode and the screaming desire for oxygen about to send him into a subconscious and consequently deadly state; he heard the spirits talk to him. They told him you don’t give up; you will only die when