Forgotten Love: An Action-Packed Adventure Romance (The Forgotten Chronicles) Page 2

  "Well, I'm here, so I guess you're going to have to deal with it," she said dryly. " You may as well tell me what your plan is."

  Gillian had a directness that was almost charming. Theo returned to his seat just as the pilot turned around to say, "Fasten your seatbelts. We have clearance from the tower and we're ready to roll. We have clear skies between here and the Nuuk Airport in Greenland so we can expect a smooth flight. Our flight time today will be three hours and fifty-two minutes."

  Theo buckled himself in and asked Gillian, "Do you know what a moulin is?"

  "I know what the Moulin Rouge is," she said, fastening her own seat buckle.

  He had to smile. "All right. Here's the short version of the history of the Greenland ice sheet."

  "Oooh, a lecture from a real Professor..." Gillian teased.

  "How did you know I was a professor?"

  She blinked, and then laughed, settling back in her chair in a way that emphasized her breasts straining against her black sweater. "I was joking! You're really a professor? And an archeologist? Seriously? A real-life Indiana Jones. How in God's name did you convince Saul to fund this little trip of yours?"

  "People trust me. I have a trusting face."

  "No you don't. You have a face that could model for GQ, but I wouldn't call it trusting."

  Theo thought he actually might be blushing. But Gillian wasn't flirting with him, he realized. Not exactly, anyway. She just said whatever popped into her head at the moment. "So, what? You're saying you wouldn't trust me?"

  "I trust you about as far as I could throw you," she replied with a grin.

  Theo liked the sound of that. To get his thoughts away from where they were headed, he went back to explaining his plans for when they reached Greenland. "The moulins are long, tubular tunnels that run down the inside of the ice sheet, letting melting water flow off the surface of the ice and down to the bedrock underneath. When the ice sheet melts every summer, the run off flows down these passageways and disappears. No one really understands how the tubes formed or where they go."

  "I've heard of those, they're like natural drainpipes, letting the water flow away under the ice. But don't they only run down the insides of the glaciers?"

  He shook his head. "Not always. Sometimes a moulin exists in one spot for so long that the running water actually carves a tunnel down into the rock below the surface."

  "And now that parts of the ice sheet has mysteriously melted away in a matter of days..."

  "Exactly," Theo confirmed. "The moulin tunnels in the bedrock will be exposed and we can explore them easily."

  "Easily is a relative term," Gillian replied as the plane began to roll down the runway. "I thought this was going to be an above-ground expedition."

  "What's the matter? I thought you were up for adventure."

  "I'm not a huge fan of caving."

  "Don't like the idea of going deeper and deeper into an ever-narrowing tunnel with the weight of tons of rock over your head and God only knows what kind of creature lurking around the next curve that might be supremely pissed off when you shine a bright light in its eyes for the first time?"

  Gillian glared at him. "Something like that, yeah."

  "I can ask the pilot to turn around and call you a cab..." Theo offered.

  "I'll deal with it," Gillian said.

  "Suit yourself." Theo settled back more in his seat, closing his eyes. Maybe he'd managed to shut her up for a while. He was looking forward to a few hours of peaceful rest before the plane landed at Nuuk and the real work—

  "So how did you get into this line of work?" Gillian asked, jolting him awake from the near recesses of sleep.

  He opened one eye a crack to look at her. "By accident, actually. I was a grad student on a field trip to the pyramids in Egypt. I managed to stumble onto a secret door no one had found before."

  "I remember hearing about that," she said, some excitement in her voice as she sat up straighter. "That was you?"

  He shrugged. "Yes."

  "And they still don't know what's behind it?"

  "Nope." Closing his eyes again he thought about all the things they'd need to do once they reached Greenland. He had his contact lined up and supplies were supposed to be waiting for—

  "How long have you been doing this?"

  "Long enough," he replied.

  "I mean, how many times have you been out in the field? And down in a cave?"

  "Enough times to know what I'm doing. Enough times to not be freaked out about it. I'm not an amateur."

  "I'm not freaked out and I'm not an amateur. I've been out in the field a few times over the past two years myself. Didn't Saul tell you about Istanbul?"

  "No," Theo said, not the least interested in Istanbul. "No, he didn't."

  He could feel her eyes boring into him. She really wanted him to ask. He really didn't want to ask. He just wanted to get some rest while he could because he knew once they hit the ground there was a lot they were going to have to—

  "Well, first of all, we ran into problems with security before we even got out of the airport. They were suspicious of the night-vision equipment and the radiation detectors and..."

  He clenched his teeth tighter. This was going to be a long, long flight.

  Chapter 3

  THE LANDING IN Greenland was a touchy affair. Mostly because the air traffic controllers in Nuuk were frazzled from the dramatic increase in planes they had to route to their single runway. With the worldwide interest in the dramatic loss of the ice sheet, every amateur treasure seeker, geologist, archeologist, scientist, news media outlet and looky-loo were coming to Greenland. Theo recognized a fair number of them and tried to keep his head down to avoid being recognized and forced to go through faked pleasantries and the inevitable questioning of methodologies.

  "Well, professor, it looks like everyone has the same idea as you." Gillian remarked, looking around at the swarming mass of people milling about the small airport building.

  "I don't think so," Theo located the exit and began to move toward it.

  "These folks are pretty geared up," Gillian said. "I don't think they're here for a scrap-booking conference."

  "What I mean," he explained to her in a low voice as he began threading his way through the crowd, "is that I doubt any of these people are here to do exactly what we are. This idea is unique. Those moulin shafts are only thought to be just so deep, and to only exist to funnel away melt-off from the ice sheet. Who would think to go exploring in them?"

  "Crazy people."

  "Crazy people, and us."

  A voice stopped Theo dead in his tracks. "Cutro! You crazy son-of-a-bitch! I knew you'd be here!"

  Theo muttered, "Fuck!" under his breath and turned in the direction of the voice with a huge fake smile. "Waterson and Ives! I thought you'd both still be that Guatemalan jail."

  The men he addressed were both tall and rangy, one with long dark hair and one with long light hair. They were young but both had seen a lot of mileage. The dark one was missing a couple of fingers on one hand and the light one had a 4 inch scar that ran diagonally from the center of his forehead to just below his left eye.

  It was the light haired one who spoke first, "We got out, no thanks to you."

  "It wasn't me who got you in there, Frank..." Theo reminded him.

  "You could have done something."

  "I did," said Theo.

  The blond man took a step forward. He was at least 5 inches taller than Theo. "Something besides running like a pussy."

  Theo stood his ground. "It was your pre-occupation with pussy that got you into trouble," he said.

  The dark haired man stepped between them and eyed Gillian. "Speaking of pussy, who's this?" he asked with a grin.

  "My research assistant," Theo said.

  "Research partner," Gillian corrected. "I'm Gillian Langtree. And you two gentlemen are...?"

  Theo steered her away from them. "A couple of guys we don't need to worry about," he said as they walk
ed away.

  "I'll tell you who you do need to worry about," the dark haired guy called after them. "George Dingo is here!"

  "George Dingo?" Gillian asked.

  "Nothing to worry about," Theo said.

  "That's his real name?"

  He declined to answer and concentrated on getting the hell out of this airport before running into anyone else—they almost made it. Outside of the terminal building Theo was looking for the transportation that was supposed to be waiting for them, when a jovial, smartly dressed man in his mid to late fifties approached them.

  "Theo Cutro. What brings you to this part of the world?"

  Theo spotted his ride—an older white Chevy Kodiak that had pulled up to the far end of the paved surface. They began to move quickly toward it. "I heard there was a scrap-booking convention in town, Dingo. What brings you here?"

  "You know I've always loved scrap-booking," said the man following them.

  Gillian turned to speak to him but Theo took her arm and pulled her along, whispering, "Don't talk to him. Don't even make eye-contact..." They reached the pickup and Theo tossed their bags into the truck bed then opened the door, ushering Gillian inside and crowding her over on the bench seat. "You know I'd love to stay and catch up, Dingo..."

  Dingo was smiling through the truck's passenger side window. God, that man moved fast! "I sure would like that, Theo," he said.

  "Go! Go!" Theo urged the driver and they pulled out into the slow moving exit lane leaving the smiling Dingo on the curb.

  The cab of the truck was cozy, to say the least. Gillian would have turned around to get a better look if there was room in the cab to do so. "He seemed nice," she said.

  "He must have already fed today," Theo told her.

  Gillian squirmed in the middle of the bench seat, determinedly keeping her legs away from the gearshift. The driver seemed to delight in getting friendly with her every time he changed gears.

  "Gillian Langtree, meet Minik Pederson," Theo said. The truck's driver was an older man with a shaved head. He had a thick mustache, though, as if all of his hair had migrated to the top of his lip when it was forbidden to grow on his scalp.

  "We're familiar," Gillian quipped, moving Minik's hand as it lingered too long on her knee.

  "How was your flight?" Minik asked.

  "Good," Theo told him. "Did you pick up my shipment?"

  "Yes. Everything is at base. You didn't say you would be bringing company."

  "I'm not company," Gillian said. "I'm a research partner."

  "I know what you are," Minik said. "I meant the other invaders to Greenland."

  Theo shook his head. "Word got out. Blame the media, not me. Anyone looking where we discussed?"

  "Not even close," Minik said. "All of them so far are looking at the debris fields left by—

  "Wait a minute," Gillian interrupted. "What do you mean you know what I am?"

  "Mr. Cutro's partner, of course."

  "Research partner," Gillian emphasized.

  "That's what I said."

  Theo grinned. "Minik grew up here in Nuuk. He knows I'm looking for moulins and he knows just the place to take us. Tell her about the local legend, Minik."

  "It's not just a local legend my friend, the elders call it the old religion," Minik began. "In Norse mythology there are nine worlds. These nine worlds are on three separate levels, Heaven, Earth and Hell. When I was a young boy my father explained it to me like this..." Minik continued. "There's an enormous ash tree, called the World Tree that connects everything in the universe. You and I can't see World Tree, because it is invisible to humans. It has three massive roots that support it. One root extends into the world of the gods, where the Well of Fate waters it. The second root extends into a world of giants, and is watered by the Well of Wisdom.

  The third root sinks deep down into the lowest level of the Norse cosmos, a world of ice, darkness, and death called Niflheim. There the root is watered by the only source of heat in this dismal land, a hot spring called the Roaring Kettle." Minik paused, as he turned onto a dirt road leading away from the capital city of Nuuk.

  It was a good thing that Minik knew the way, because Theo couldn't see any sign or landmark indicating this was the turn.

  "Well..." Gillian said. "That's a colorful legend."

  "Yeah I thought you'd like it," Theo said.

  "But what's it have to do with moulins?"

  Minik took his eyes off the road momentarily to look at Theo and hit a pothole that rattled the old truck. "Lady asks many questions," he teased.

  "Don't get her started," Theo said, grinning at Gillian. "Please, continue..."

  Minik nodded and continued his story. "Flowing from the waters of the Roaring Kettle is the freezing River of Knives, which separates the world of the humans, from Helheim—the world of death. Also on this lower level is the Shore of Corpses, where the evil serpent Nidhogg feasts on the flesh of murderers, liars, and adulterers and gnaws endlessly on the root of the World Tree, hoping to one day break free."

  "I still don't see how—"

  "Gillian, let him finish," Theo interrupted. "Sorry Minik. Please, tell her the part you told me."

  "Well," Minik continued, "many elders believe the world of Helheim exists deep beneath the earth and moulins are the entryway into this underworld."

  "So now you tell me your plan is to go trekking down a shaft that leads to God alone knows where to look for some giant serpent monster that gnaws at an invisible tree and eats the bodies of the dead?"

  Theo shook his head. "I don't believe in monsters. Except the human kind."

  Gillian glared at him with her jaw set. "Local legends usually have a grain of truth to them. Sometimes more than a grain."

  "Oh, this one has more than grains," Minik said. "It has corpses."

  Theo turned to Gillian. "There's no such thing as this Nidhogg. Trust me. What could go wrong?"

  "Do you make it a habit to end conversations with the words you want chiseled on your gravestone?" Gillian asked.

  "You know, Theo," Minik mused, "John Lennon once said he found America by coming to Greenland and turning left."

  "I didn't know that, actually. Is there a lesson in that?"

  "Yup." Minik nodded his head at Gillian. "Means you should have left her in America."

  Theo laughed harder than he probably should have.

  Gillian was not amused. "I hope our hotel has decent water pressure. I can't wait to take a long hot shower before dinner."

  "Oh, we're not going to the hotel now, lady," said Minik. He looked over at her with a big brown-toothed smile.

  The potholes in the road got worse as they went along. One bad bounce lifted Gillian up enough to land her in his lap.

  Gillian moved quickly back to her seat and asked "How much further do we have to go?"

  "'Nother mile or so in this direction." Minik smiled at Gillian's obvious discomfort.

  "And what direction is that?"

  He shook his hand at the windshield. "That-a-way."

  Theo laughed. Gillian didn't.

  "Uh, Minik, I think Gillian would feel better if you could tell her where, exactly, you're taking us."

  His friend looked at him quickly with a wink. Screwing up his face he made his accent thicker yet. "We have to go past second polar bear, then left at igloo."

  "And then where?" demanded Gillian.

  "Yes, where?" asked Theo.

  "To the chopper. I think you want to have a look-see today before you start work tomorrow."

  "Great idea," Theo said. "A little reconnaissance before dinner."

  "Great," said Gillian.

  "Don't you worry lady. Minik flies as good as he drives." They hit a pothole that threw everyone three inches out of their seats.

  "You guys hold onto something now. We gonna go off road a little," Minik warned, just before making a sharp left turn and driving across the tundra. Dwarf shrubs grew everywhere and Minik drove through them without a care, avoiding a few s
tunted trees and boulders along the way.

  Gillian braced herself and stared resolutely straight ahead as the truck bounced and jittered along what probably passed for a main road, leading into a barren wilderness that had once been blanketed in thick snow and ice.

  * * *

  After about an hour they came to a ten-foot chain link fence topped with barbed wire. Minik came to an abrupt stop with a rattle of rusty metal and got out without a word. Several buildings that appeared to be held up by nothing but duct-tape and a prayer were scattered in the rocky lot. A dozen or so goats wandered aimlessly about while the world's most apathetic border collie watched from the top of a large, sun-warmed rock.

  Theo was glad to be able to stretch his legs and even gladder to watch Gillian stretch hers. He repeated the mantra, Saul's girlfriend, Saul's girlfriend... silently in his head.

  Minik unlocked the four padlocks that secured the gate. Gillian watched him questioningly. "Those are very expensive goats," he said to her.

  He led them to the largest building—a barn. Inside, Theo found the stack of equipment that he had sent ahead and went into inventory mode. He always checked things over himself. Where were the climbing stakes? Oh yes, there they were. And the rope and harnesses, too. Good. He'd had too many mishaps trusting other people. Which was why he preferred to work alone. Well. One of the reasons.

  Gillian stayed outside, staring in horror at a machine that looked like it once could have been a helicopter. She squealed when she was bumped from behind by one of the goats.

  "Are you menstruating?" asked Minik.

  The goat followed Gillian very closely. "What?" she said.

  "Are you on your lady's time? Gulla will like you very much if you are."

  "Well, I'm not," Gillian said, pushing the goat's head out of her crotch.

  Minik shrugged. "Must be close though. I could use a hand with the chopper." He turned a crank on one of the machine's skids and a set of small wheels emerged.

  Theo went to the other skid, lowered the wheels and the men pushed the helicopter outside. Minik moved very well for a man of his age and size, climbing up to release the rotor blades and click them into place. He performed a quick pre-flight check that consisted of checking the fuel tank and shrugging. "Good enough," he said. "All aboard!"