Rival of Atlantis

V

IT FELT BEING LOST IN a maze of towering trees and a wall of darkness with nothing to break away the dullness but the muddy road they are taking. The unpaved road, only illuminated by their vehicle's headlights, is dotted with occasional small ponds that accumulated their water during the afternoon rain. Urban life has been left miles away since they took a turn in a road slicing through the woods. He cannot imagine that some way and someday, his career will make him get lost in a maze of forest. Aviation and forest seem not factors that go hand in hand together. He might have enjoyed slicing through thick woods if it had been in broad daylight. He can only imagine what majestic views the darkness is shrouding. He can only imagine, for there is none.

"Tell me, how did this great project went," his driver, a tall man framed like a wrestler, uttered after what felt like an eternity.

He did not respond too soon. He studied his chauffeur for the night which happened to be a long lost friend. Even in the dark and with the help of little light from the headlights that is spilling through the windscreen, he found that aside from the tone of his skin and frame, nothing so much changed about his friend's physical appearance. He looked like he has not aged a day since he last saw him and time did not diminish the different electricity shrouding his personality.

Ron, short for Ronie, a mineralogical engineer, possesses an average height in western standards. Rising only five feet and ten inches, he was gifted to have an endomorphic built, the type which do not have fats in their body and does not puff even how much he devoured food. He worked his way to add every muscle fiber to his body by spending trying times in the gym and monitoring his strict diet. His face is closely shaven by sharp razors. He has thin brown hairs that are trimmed in military crew cuts and gazes through deep brown eyes. This night, he fashioned himself in a tight corduroy black shirt which showed his explosive triceps and biceps. He wears a pair of acid wash jeans over leather safety shoes. Many girls would find his clean, wholesome and muscular appearance attractive but this different active electricity shrouding him is the real magnet.

Compared to Ron, the current one and not the one whom he befriended fifteen years ago, Charlie did not move out from the circle that many dubbed during high school days as "Nerds." Unlike Ron, he towers six feet and two inches. Tonight, he was fashioned in white shirt over a jeans and Nike rubber shoes. A neatly folded brown jacket is draped on his left arm. It is not the way he dress that makes him look as if someone who was dropped from a time warp wormhole from some point in the Baroque Era, but the unattended blond wavy hair reaching mid way his neck. His eyes below the bushy brows were round and black. He also got a thin physique and wears a pair of round spectacles matching his oval face which is armed with a thin line of lips. Nothing felt wrong after some years apart, only, they cannot be mistaken to be closed friends.

They met at Miami Springs High School together. The man he met back then was skinny and can work as easy as breathing within the mazes of mathematics, chemical elements and minerals. Both of them were not gifted with strong physiques, but if players get their fame in the hard court, they gained theirs in academics. Ron was sent to University of Cambridge and they get in touch while he finished his aviation engineering at Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Work did not brought them together until a week ago, when Ron made a call and told him to fly to Costa Rica very soon, all expenses paid and his friend offered to pick him personally at the airport. That brought him here at the passenger seat of his friend's company vehicle.

Charlie studied the interior of the vehicle for the first time since he was picked up at the airport earlier this evening. The leather seats of the car look worn and have few cuts and holes here and there. Aside from that, the interior looks old but in order but there is this different sound like ice is being ground in the hood. A sound of metals joined by knots and bolts also sounded like it is coming apart at every bump in the road. The air-conditioning system is working magnificently but the speedometer's needle was stuck on zero.

When his friend led him to the vehicle, he believed it was some kind of a joke. He was being ushered into a white pickup where there is more mud and scratch than the paint itself. It is like the paint has been oddly misplaced amid the vinyl of mud and not the other way around. He also took note of the bumper and side skirts that look like twisted metals. The vehicle has looks that it survived a destruction derby against an armored hummer.  So far, the vehicle's piston, that seems to be fueled by miracle, did not misfire in the entire travel.

"Hey, Charlie," Ron gazed towards him at the passenger seat. "Can we talk about your great project? This silence and driving is making me drowsy."

Charlie admired his different voice that is a little bit of throating with a mix of grinding glass and tortured metal before giving an answer in a tenor voice. "Nothing ordinary. Just a rocket company who wanted a new payload system to have an efficient technology of delivering some trash to orbit Earth."

"A satellite?"

"Yes, no and maybe. The company wanted rockets that go up fast. They even wanted me to come up on something that matches the speed of light in a drop fuel."

"How did it go?" Ron asked as he sped by a curve as easy as if going off the road and down the high cliff is just a game.

"Well," Charlie croaked while suppressing a scream. "I did my job. They mixed me up with a team of other engineers. The electronics and communication engineer has been the head and we made a good feat together with a mechanical engineer and a few others in different fields of science, mainly physics. But more part of the job was done by workers merely counting seven."

"It must have paid a good cut." Ron is lowering the gear of the pick up as his headlights hit something shinny up ahead.

"A good cut to treat my mother to some luxurious dinner, but I dare say, the project is cursed."

"Why is that?"

"My co-engineers are dying like flies this past months. Two met vehicular accidents. One got killed when some thieves robbed his house. And few other things. The most remarkable? The electronics engineer, the ream leader. He went missing along with that Malaysian Airlines that hit the headlines."

"The MH370?" He asked as he halted the vehicle before the gate.

"Yes, that one. But Malaysian Airlines said he was not among the passengers. And that's crazy, man." He answered as Ron slid down the glass facing the window of the guardhouse.

"Buenos noches, señor," he heard the guard greeted Ron. "Como estuvo el viaje?"

Good evening, sir or mister. Charlie translated the words in his mind. As someone who works abroad often times, he knew basic Spanish, the official language of both Costa Rica and Mexico. How was your trip?

"Un poco cansado pero seguro." He was sure Ron said something about tiring but safe. Then he heard him ask? "You're a new guard? Lo siento. Eres un nuevo guardia?"

"Sí señor," the guard answered. "Y esto es Carlito." He gestured to a tall and lean man who stood beside him while eyeing the Charlie icily. "Me llamo Eduardo."

"Well, Eduardo. Can you please open up the gate? Puedes abrir la puerta?"

"Sí, sí." The guard answered joyfully as he exited the bunk. He opened the gate muttering something in Spanish but Charlie took the murmurs of the man positive because of the smile that did not leave his face. As the guard swung open the gate, Charlie let his eyes crawl about the mining facility compound.

He found nothing remarkable about the facility, the fence is made up of new wires and he took note of the absence of a placard that should have been advertising the facility's name. The gate itself looked built in a rush and there are round bushes he cannot identify near to it. A complex of buildings is illuminated by lights up ahead. Aside from the guards, there is no sign of other workers around.

"This is not yet a fully operational mining facility," Ron explained as he drove the vehicle deeper the compound. "We fenced the compound as soon as the last mining company sold the rights to us. There are many things that need improvement, the paving of the road, security details and a lot more. We will be launching a massive hiring when Costa Rica's government gives as a green light, which I think, not anytime soon."

"I came across an article," Charlie pointed out as the vehicle went along a road curving leftwards amid the building complex. "I think Costa Rica does not welcome any kinds of mining in this area."

"Yeah, we have been locked in a fierce battle against a group that wanted to protect their forest."

"I heard about them once. What was it that they call themselves again?"

"Friends of Earth International." Ron casually said as he parked the vehicle in front of a two-story building that looked like a warehouse.

"Yeah, that one. They are dead serious against destruction of their nature."

"Personally?" Ron uttered as he choked the engine. "I think destruction of nature is a serious thing. Professionally? Who will provide all the world's needs if we close down every mining facility? The solution is an eco-friendly mining."

"There's no such thing."

"Maybe," Ron fired back as he swung the door of the vehicle open and jumped off. "But you'll see. For the mean time, let me lead you to where you'll be sleeping."

"I don't get it," Charlie said as he slid on his backpack that was packed with his things for a week. "You paid for my airline ticket and asked me to stay for a week just to discuss something about mining? I'm an aviation engineer, man."

"I need you here not for the mining, that's my job." Ron said with a smile and a shake of head as he led him inside an access door at the side of the building then towards a maze of metal stairways running like ant tunnels inside the building. "But I don't want to rush things. Before the calendar changes to another day, you'll see why I need you here."

Back at the gate, the squad of grey men has assembled again. The leader, posing as Carlito gathered them all together to for a short briefing. Confirming that the target is onboard the vehicle that just came in, there is no aborting the mission. It has to be done here and now. A perfect opportune moment might never come again.

Eduardo, removed the security guard uniform and tossed it to the one ducking by the real guards who are slumped down the floor wearing nothing but a their undershirt and underwear.

The one ducking by the guards wore it back to the right owner of the clothes. He carefully slid everything back and carried him back to the seat by the table. He slump his upper body down the table and arranged him to give a look like he is dozing.

Carlito got off the security uniform too. He himself dressed the guard and slump him on the table on another seat. Being assigned to pose as guard, he assumed his position as the gatekeeper and will do so until the team pulls him back upon their extraction. He will resume his duties as a guard in grey. With no one expected to come in the mines late the night, being in grey combat suit will not pose a problem.

Eduardo gave orders to the other three men that will go in the mines along with him. They were given precise details on what and when to do. After they gave him his nods, they scattered in the night and got lost from the darkness of the night.