The Sacred Vault_ A Novel - Andy McDermott [168]
‘And everyone thought it was the Russians who were supposed to be sneaky,’ said Eddie, raising a few chuckles from those team members old enough to remember the Cold War.
‘It didn’t work out at the other sites because the glaciers weren’t stable enough,’ Nina continued. ‘The tunnels they built collapsed after a few years. DYE-A was the only place where they stayed intact, because it’s sited above an extinct volcano; the ice is trapped inside the caldera and can’t move. So they built an emergency bunker there as well, a sort of backup NORAD where they could keep running World War Three even if everywhere else got nuked. But it was never used. At least, not by America.’
‘You think the Khoils are planning to use this bunker as a hideout?’ asked Probst.
‘It’s definitely a possibility. It was designed to support people for years, if necessary.’
The German indicated a locker at the rear of the cabin where the team’s weapons were stowed. ‘Okay. As soon as we land, collect arms, and we will go to the building. Our friends from the Rigspolitiet will issue the warrant - we will make sure they are not, ah, obstructed in their duties.’ A small ripple of laughter.
The rasp of the propellers changed as the plane started its descent. ‘Better strap in,’ Eddie told Nina. He sat on one of a pair of rear-facing seats at the front of the cabin, Nina beside him. Outside the window, the spectacular auroral display played across the wings.
Pramesh Khoil stood in the eye of a hurricane of information. The infotarium around him, its hundreds of screens flashing at a dizzying rate, was a larger version of the one in Bangalore, constructed on a scale to match the huge chamber topping the former early warning station. The fifty-five-foot-high geodesic dome had once housed one of DYE-A’s three massive radar antennas; now, it was his command centre. He was raised twenty feet on a circular platform, a staircase curling down to a lower elevated walkway ringing it, from where two more sets of steps descended to the floor. Directly above him, hanging from the domed ceiling, was a large rig housing projectors for the biggest screens. A small lectern at the platform’s edge contained the sensors for the gestural control system.
Despite the visual overload, Khoil’s attention was focused on three screens in particular. One showed mostly darkness, the lights of a city seen from the air glinting like gems on black velvet; beside it, the same view was repeated with the benefit of night vision, the cityscape rendered in ghostly shades of green. Both giant projection screens were overlaid with the graphics of an aerial head-up display, an artificial horizon showing the aircraft’s course and speed, altitude and attitude.
The third, smaller LCD screen was a live feed from a news network. The President and Prime Minister of India stood on a red carpet at the majestic Rashtrapati Bhavan, the President’s official residence in Delhi, greeting the German Chancellor. The leaders of the world’s most powerful nations were assembling for the G20 summit, meeting for the evening’s opening ceremony and state banquet before the conference proper began the next day.
But, Khoil knew, there would be no next day for the attendees. The world was about to change for ever. The corrupt and decadent Kali Yuga would end, and a new, purified cycle of existence would begin.
Tonight.
Vanita stood beside him, trying to shut out the visual distraction of the other screens to concentrate on the news feed. ‘How much longer?’ she asked. ‘Are they all there?’
‘Not yet,’ said Khoil. He held out his right hand with the palm flat, fingers slightly opened, and tilted it. On the two main screens, the image of the city followed suit, the speed of the aircraft’s turn increasing slightly. ‘Be patient, my beloved.’
‘I am patient,’ she insisted, tight-lipped. ‘But it’s frustrating, waiting on . . . politicians!’ She almost spat the word, her earrings jingling.
Khoil lowered his hand, the artificial horizons levelling automatically. ‘It will not be long now. Just