Gates of Hades by Gregg Loomis Read Free Book Online

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    Not that sound mattered. The nearest settlement, a native village, was miles away, and the increasing number of tourists visiting the Costa Rican rain forest were contentto remain in their vehicles on what served as a road on the opposite side of the mountain.
    The government, always in pursuit of U.S. dollars, had happily allowed the construction of a nature laboratory to study and preserve the local flora and fauna. No one in San José had questioned the necessity of using nonlocal labor to build the facility, workers who melted away like mountain mist in the morning sun as soon as the job was complete. As long as certain officials received their monthly “consulting fee,” no one questioned what was going on in the rain forest.
    Only ten feet below the surface of volcanic rock, a room of roughly a thousand square feet was as brightly lit as an operating room. Two men sat in front of a computer screen.
    Both were dressed in guayabera, the loose-fitting, four-pocket shirt the Latin America peasant wore outside rough white canvas pants rolled almost to the knees, with thong flip-flops. Notwithstanding the native attire, neither man would have been mistaken for a Costa Rican. Both were bulky, with the bodies of athletes from some sport where hurting someone was part of the game. The light from the computer reflected a bluish glow from two shaved scalps.
    â€œYou’re sure that’s him?” one asked the other.
    â€œYou can see the harbor of St. Bart’s in the background,” the other responded.
    The first man shifted his position for a better view. “What do we know about him?”
    The other touched a key on the board in front of him and read from the screen. “Very little so far. He was at one time employed by the army—we hacked into the military’s files—but not much since he left in 2001.”
    â€œEchelon?”
    The man referred to the supereavesdropping program that, from its place in England, monitored every e-mail and most telephone calls worldwide. The information gleanedwas shared only by England, the United States, Canada, Australia, and New Zealand. The satellites and the system they made work had been in operation long before the American public learned that their communications could be intercepted. The sheer volume of transmissions made it highly unlikely that anyone would be listened to without already being of interest to one of the governments involved.
    â€œOur person there has secretly tagged Peters’s name, although that’s more difficult than watching for a specific phone number or e-mail address. He may use an encryption device. In any case, we’re tracing what we took from his companion. Is he a threat?”
    â€œHe or his employer has Alazar’s computer.”
    The other man, perhaps a year or so younger than the first, reached into a bowl containing the small, sweet bananas grown nearby. He began to peel. “Surely he wasn’t so careless as to . . .”
    The older man snorted. “Alazar was not part of our cause. He was only in it for the money.”
    The other finished the banana in two bites. “We’ve found the location of his secret; we no longer need him. Perhaps his death was providential.”
    â€œPerhaps. But keep our people looking for Peters. We can’t risk what might be on that computer. The secret he sold us is our greatest weapon against the despoilers of the earth.”
    JOURNAL OF SEVERENUS TACTUS EXCERPTED FROM ENO CALLIGINI, PH.D.,
ORACLES, AUGURY, AND DIVINATION IN THE ANCIENT WORLD.
(TURIN: UNIVERSITY OF TURIN PRESS, 2003). TRANSLATION BY FREDERICK SOMMES, PH.D. CHAPEL HILL, N.C.: UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA PRESS.
    Cave of the Sibyl
    Cumae, Gulf of Naples
    Campania, Italy
    Nones Iunius (June 1), Thirty-Seventh Year of the Reign
    of Augustus Caesar ( A.D. 10)
    I, Severenus, son of Tactus, have decided to make this account of my descent into Hades 1 and, the gods willing,