“Gains, but nowhere near cohort five.”
“End the other regimens. But let’s keep testing,” Sanders said.
“Same cohorts?”
“No. Let’s start fresh. I don’t want the previous training regimens to skew the results. The science team has a new protocol?”
Kosta nodded. “Tons of them.”
“Good—”
“But I just have to say, sir. They’re plateauing. We’re well past the point of diminishing returns. These are people, not figures on a spreadsheet that can be adjusted. It feels like—”
“They’re still getting better. Stronger, faster, smarter. The last cognitive tests were the best yet.”
“True, but at some point we have to decide they’re good enough. We can’t keep moving the finish line. Procrast—”
“It almost sounded like you were going to say ‘procrastinating,’ Kosta. I can’t remember exactly, but it’s like, one of us is in charge here and the other is the assistant. You know, I can’t recall exactly, but I believe I’m in charge and you’re the paper-toting helper.” He shook his head theatrically. “There’s one way to find out. If I tell them to put you in the next cohort, and it happens, then bam—we have our answer.”
Kosta swallowed and motioned out the window, at the rows of tents and almost endless encampments. “I’m just trying to help, and… What I mean to say is… We have almost a million soldiers. We have a viable training regimen that makes them almost as strong as they’re ever going to get. And we don’t know how much time we have.”
“We also know that we get one shot at this. The army we send into the tombs is the only one we’ll ever send. They succeed or we face the uncertainty beyond that. I don’t want to do that. Do you? You can follow my orders or you can join them in the tents down there. Now tell me where we are on southern Spain.”
Kosta picked up another folder. “We’ve taken the major cities in Andalusia—Seville, Cádiz, Granada, and Córdoba. We also have control of all the significant coastal towns, including Marbella, Málaga, and Almería. We’re working on the news outlets, pressing them to release our story. Our agents say they’re wavering. If they think we have a chance, they might start hedging their Orchid support. We’ll know soon. Our landing troops are inbound to the coast.”
“Any reaction from the Orchid Alliance?”
“Nothing yet. We don’t expect much resistance. Clocktower says the Allies could be looking at a slowdown of Orchid production in France and northern Spain. Member nations are panicking.”
The timing was perfect; Sanders couldn’t have planned it better.
The door opened and an Immari general walked in. “Sir—”
“We’re working here,” Sanders snapped.
“The portal in Antarctica opened.”
Sanders just stared.
“Dorian Sloane came out. He had a case with him. He says—”
“Where is he now?” Sanders said flatly.
“They brought him to the surface. He’s in the primary conference room being briefed on the situation.”
“You’re shitting me.”
The general looked confused. “He is the ranking Immari Council member.”
“I want you to listen to me very carefully, general. I am the ranking Immari Council member. Dorian Sloane has been inside that structure for almost eleven weeks. We don’t know what he’s been doing down there, but I guarantee you it won’t be good for us. We have to assume they have reprogrammed him, brainwashed him, and spit him out with a mission.”
“What should—”
“Use the contingent of Clocktower agents on site. Have them tell Sloane there’s something they need to show him. Lead him to one of the science labs. Gas him. Then take him to an interrogation room and strap him in real tight. Don’t underestimate him. God knows what they’ve done to him. Post guards outside the door.” Sanders thought for a moment. “You said there was a case. Where is it?”
“Sloane left it at the bottom of the shaft. He says he thinks it’s dangerous. That we shouldn’t open it.”
Sanders thought for a moment. His first instinct was that the case was a bomb. Maybe Sloane thought it was too—he had left it at the bottom of the shaft. If they brought it up, it could destroy the entire camp or maybe something worse. There was the other alternative—that Sloane had left it down there because he or the Atlanteans needed it there. Did the Atlantean army need it outside so that they could exit the tombs? Did it serve another purpose there? Could it melt the ice and free the ship? He needed answers. He couldn’t leave it there, and he couldn’t move it until he knew what it was.