The Meridian of Mercenaries

The heat wave hit everyone's back like a red-hot iron plate. The pungent smell of sulfur drilled into their nostrils, mixing with the salty taste of sweat and churning out an indescribable burning sensation in their lungs. "Hey boss, what kind of hellish job is this anyway? We could be doing comfortable protection work back in the city, but instead we're suffering out in this godforsaken place. Even flies wouldn't bother showing up here in this heat!" The young white man in jungle camouflage, holding an AK74U assault rifle, wiped the sweat streaming down his face while complaining to the middle-aged veteran beside him. His tone was casual, completely disregarding the 'boss' who paid his salary in a place like this, rank and hierarchy had long been evaporated by the scorching heat. "Glasses, can you just shut your mouth for once? The boss knows what he's doing , it's not for us grunts to figure out. Besides, this place has a certain 'flavor' to it, don't you think? Stop staring at me and watch your step ,if you fall into the lava, I won't be reaching in to pull you out. You'll be well-done before I even get close." The speaker was a black man carrying an MP5 and holding a modified M14 sniper rifle with an ACOG scope. Though he seemed to be defending the captain, his winking expression made it clear he was joining in the complaint. At the end, he deliberately blinked at Classes, flashing white teeth that stood out sharply against his dark skin. The middle-aged solder called captain turned his head, glancing at the agreeing expressions on the faces of his other men, and shook his head helplessly with a bitter smile. It seemed if he didn't give these boys a reasonable explanation, they might refuse to go any further. These new recruits were still too impatient. Thinking back to his own youth, he'd been exactly the same. Those days crawling through fire and gunfire ,they really were something to miss. "Ahem!" The captain cleared his throat loudly, and the previously noisy team fell silent instantly. All eyes turned to him, as if waiting for some major announcement. "I took this job for the long-term development of our mercenary team. We've only just formed,we don't have the luxury of being picky yet. And..." the captain paused deliberately, nodding toward the old and young pair checking road signs ahead, "those two up front aren't ordinary people. The pay they're offering is quite generous, but more importantly, they can bring us steady, high-quality work in the future. Hang in there a little longer, we're almost there, I promise." The captain's words were like cold water poured into a hot oil pan, instantly igniting everyone's curiosity. Even the team members who had been impatient gathered around, their eyes shining with intrigue. Glasses was the first to lean in, stretching his neck like a goose searching for food: "Captain, who exactly are those two up front? From what you said, it sounds like you know them." "Not 'them', I only know the older one. I've never met the younger one." The captain gave a bitter laugh, his expression growing complicated. "Who is he then?" Young people could never contain their curiosity, and Classes pressed on. Everyone else leaned in, straining to hear. "Deputy Director of the American Central Intelligence Agency..." The captain paused, as if weighing his words, then slowly spoke three syllables: "C.I.A." "What?!" Everyone froze, their faces looking like they'd just seen a ghost. CIA Deputy Director? The title circled around in these recruits' heads several times before they could fully grasp its weight. "He's such a high-ranking official he must have dozens of people at his disposal. Why would he hire mercenaries like us?" An East Asian-looking mercenary couldn't help asking, voicing the question on everyone's mind. "Private business, I suspect. He didn't tell me specifics, and I didn't ask. In our line of work, you only need to know what you're told. The less you know about things that don't concern you especially matters involving someone like him,he safer you are. Frankly, I don't want to know any more than I already do." The captain laughed bitterly again, his gaze drifting to the two figures ahead, his eyes carrying a hint of barely perceptible awe. "Director, have we found it yet?" Young Duke walked to the white-haired old man's side, watching him hold a yellowed slip of paper and carefully compare it against a tattered map. Sweat trickled down his temple, carving streaks through the dust on his face. Unable to contain himself any longer, he asked. "This should be the place. Duke, give me a moment longer. And how many times have I told you don't call me Director. Call me by my name." Yonkers didn't look up, his fingers gently stroking the map as if caressing something precious. "Yes, Uncle Yonkers." Seeing that Yonkers wouldn't find their destination anytime soon, Duke wiped the sweat from his brow and surveyed their surroundings. This was Mount St. Stuart, one of the world's most active volcanoes. The pungent smell of sulfur hung heavy in the air, and beneath their feet was freshly cooled lava, still warm to the touch from the earth's core. Step too hard, and magma would well up through the cracked crust every step, every movement a potential death sentence. For years now, Yonkers had been dragging him from place to place, seemingly chasing something, yet never willing to explain what. It had cost Duke considerable business opportunities, and Yonkers had never once offered an apology or explanation. If it weren't for the fact that Yonkers was the only 'family' who'd ever visited him at the orphanage, Duke would have long since forced the truth out of him by whatever means necessary. This time was even more outrageous. Not only had they come to this war-torn corner of South America, but they'd ventured into a place so remote even birds refused to nest. Duke still couldn't fathom why. And looking at the mercenaries following behind all the inexperienced rookies, as demonstrated by the chaos of their firefight with anti-government forces two days , he couldn't understand why Yonkers had hired such a bunch of amateurs. "Found it! I found it!" Yonkers suddenly waved the paper in his hand excitedly, pointing in a direction and calling out loudly, his voice trembling with barely contained excitement. Everyone immediately gathered around, following Yonkers' pointing finger, but there was nothing there except steaming lava crust. "Is he delirious from the heat?" Glasses muttered under his breath. It wasn't loud, but in this eerily silent place, it was unusually clear. Unexpectedly, Yonkers actually heard. He turned toward Glasses and smiled without speaking, then began walking toward the spot he'd indicated. His steps were firm and steady, completely unlike those of a man in his sixties. As they drew closer, Duke finally noticed something odd. The lava crust where Yonkers was pointing had a slightly different texture than the surrounding area. It was a subtle difference, right in front of their eyes, yet impossible to put into words. Watching the confused expressions on everyone's faces, Yonkers smiled mysteriously, extended his finger, and gently pushed it into the lava crust to everyone's astonishment, he lifted a large section like a pot lid, revealing a dark, gaping hole behind it. Yonkers handed the heavy crust to the stunned Duke, then ducked into the cave first. The mercenary captain followed immediately, and the others hurried after, their fear and curiosity battling within them, but professional instinct telling them to stay with the group. Duke stood holding the crust in his hands, realization dawning. This particular section had solidified long ago, while the others had only recently cooled still hot magma beneath them caused the air above to warp and shimmer, like heat rising off water. Only this crust, with the empty cave behind it, had no hot air rising, making it stand out conspicuously in this sea of heat waves. "In a place like this, with such clever concealment ,what exactly is it? Why are we here? What could possibly be inside that cave?" Everyone who'd seen the crust was asking themselves these same questions. Mystery, fear, curiosity all these emotions tangled together, making every heart beat faster. "Lights!" Yonkers' voice from inside the cave snapped everyone out of their daze. The others hurried in and turned on their emergency lights. The cave was larger than expected, though you could see all the walls, a dozen people standing inside didn't feel crowded at all. Yonkers stood before the dark cave wall, feeling along its surface. Duke quickly raised his light to illuminate the area. Suddenly, Yonkers seemed to trigger some mechanism, and the entire cave shook violently. Accompanied by a dull rumbling sound, a large section of the stone wall to their left slowly fell outward, revealing a heavy metal door behind it. The sudden change startled everyone,several recruits instinctively raised their weapons, aiming at the newly revealed entrance. Carved onto the pitch-black metal door was a relief of canine fangs, ferocious and terrifying, glinting coldly in the lamplight. Yonkers stared at the door, his face lit up with excitement, his whole body trembling with emotion. One curious mercenary reached out to touch the carving, but Yonkers grabbed him back with surprising strength for a man his age. "Don't touch it! Do you want to get us all killed? If you value your life, stay still and don't touch anything!" Yonkers snapped, his voice harsher than anyone had ever heard . With that, Yonkers pulled a dog tag from around his neck a small key hung from it. He first pulled the left upper fang of the relief outward, then the corresponding lower fang, and a keyhole appeared on the door. He inserted the key and turned it gently; a small window popped open beside it, revealing a password input screen and a square recess. By now Yonkers' hands were shaking slightly. He took a deep breath, entered a long string of numbers, then placed his dog tag into the recess and pressed firmly. With a heavy, resonant sound, the massive iron door swung open. This sequence of movements was so fluid and practiced, he might as well have been opening the door to his own home. Yonkers pushed the heavy door open with effort, fumbled around the entryway, and actually found a light switch. When the lights came on, everyone gasped .There was electricity in a place like this?! What greeted them was a circular hall, empty and bare. The dozen mercenaries plus Yonkers and his nephew standing inside didn't feel crowded at all. The hall was lined with doors, and the one directly facing the passageway was noticeably larger than the others;it looked like the entrance to a conference room. "Open all the doors!" Yonkers suddenly shouted, startling those nearest him. Duke didn't move, merely staring at his uncle in confusion. the man was no longer just excited; he seemed almost feverish with some kind of mania. "Wow, what is this...!" "Look ,weapons! So many weapons!" "My God, computers and the latest models!" "How can there be a hospital in this hellhole? This is unbelievable!"