While the Archeology crew entered the structure and began to unpack their equipment, Carson kept watch over them as covertly as possible. They worked as quickly and efficiently as roaches, assembling various gizmos and devices and stringing cables across the floor and it wasn't long before he lost interest and walked outside. Judging from Maxwell's expression, the frustration must have been showing on his face. The medic caught up with him just as he cleared the structure and fell in at his elbow.
"What's wrong, Sarge?" he asked as he tried to keep pace, but Carson barely acknowledged him. He couldn't put his finger on the reason for it, but he was still uneasy and his instincts told him to dig in.
"Phillips," he called out to the RTO, who stood up. "Contact the Honos. I want extra ordinance and supplies dropped to our position ASAP."
"Yes sir," he answered as he knelt and began to set up the dish. "What do I tell them we need?"
His mind made up a quick list and he rattled it off as quickly as Phillips could copy. Heavy weapons, Reapers, grenades, mines, medic packs - all of it went into the request because he was going to be prepared. Foss, who had been standing nearby, added a few more items that would make life a little easier.
"Uh, Sir?" Maxwell asked as he motioned to look behind him. Carson turned to see that Roman had come out of the structure and was standing behind him. He wondered how long he had been listening, but wasn't overly concerned about what a suit thought.
"Why are you requesting extra equipment Sergeant? Is there a problem?" Roman asked.
"Not yet," he answered. "Just making sure we have the tools to do the job. Standard operating procedure, isn't it?"
Roman nodded, accepting the answer and walked back inside while the troopers watched.
"You don't trust him, do you Top?" Foss asked. He was one of the ones that Carson had known from the beginning and was second in command.
"When could you ever trust the company anyway?" he answered as he looked out at the tree line again.
It was around an hour later when a low rumble carried over the canopy and the dropship appeared overhead. With a whine, five green armored crates popped out of the cargo bay and floated downward in the low breeze, their parachutes blocking out the light as they dropped on the slope leading to the pyramid. The pilot had been remarkably accurate and made the job easier, but the Sergeant knew that was what he was trained to do.
"Hey Sarge," one of the men called out as they heaved the crates up the slope. "Why didn't you just have Corro drop them through the damn door. Woulda saved us the trouble."
"Quit your bitchin and put your back into it," he answered. "You're sounding like Larue."
It took several hours to set up the perimeter to the Sergeant's tastes and he walked around the structure one last time to make sure everything was in place. Mines and tripwires covered the slopes and two pairs of reapers were dug into the high ground to cover the jungle path in. As he circled back, he saw that the heat had left the men exhausted and they were resting in a half circle just outside one of the entrances. Taking a drink from his canteen, he squatted down to join them.
"It ain't much, but it's all we got time for," Carson thought to himself. "Hope it's enough for whatever they dropped us into."
Steps echoed from the nearby entrance behind him and several of the men stood and took positions. They were as uneasy as he was and it was beginning to show. When Roman appeared, they relaxed but it was Carson's turn to became tense. The man's eyes were positively eerie and they were on him.
'Sergeant, may I have a word with you?" he asked and Carson slowly rose and followed him. They walked in silence for several minutes, going further into the structure and he felt the nerves coming back.
"What do you want?" he asked as he carefully slung his rifle. The survey team had already unpacked most of the equipment and lights and devices were scattered around the room on flimsy looking tripods. Somehow, the structure didn't look nearly as large as it had before and he decided it was because of the lights. Within a few hours, the room had been transformed from an ancient ruin to a museum.
"You're uncomfortable in here," Roman asked. "Why is that?"
Carson looked at him and then around the room. "Not sure. Just a feeling I get sometimes. Shrink said that I might have a few screws loose."
Roman smiled and kept walking, encouraging him to continue. "I doubt that you have many screws loose, but you've got strong instincts. Not everything a man can sense can be measured."
"I'm not sure I get you," the Sergeant said, not sure where this was going. "Is there a point to this?"
"Yes, of course there is," Roman answered as he stopped. "There are a lot of unusual features about this site, but the survey team isn't interested in what they can't see.
Carson shrugged, feeling the hot breeze blowing in one door and turning cooler as it rushed out the other. He wasn't into metaphysical bullshit and dealt with hard facts and visible threats. "What's that got to do with me and my men?"
"A lot," Roman answered. "I want you to keep your eyes and your mind open."
Carson turned it over in his head and watched one of the survey team working around one of the wall carvings. "This place is pretty old isn't it?" the Sergeant asked. "Any idea how old?"
"All I know is that it's pre-Conflict War era," came the answer. "The scientists in the group should be able to nail it down a bit closer than that if they're given enough time."
"So Mr. Roman, why are we here?" Carson asked. "You never answered me so I'm asking again."
"Of course," the man smiled. "We're here to determine the potential for excavating Conflict Era technology. We don't know if any is here or not, but we'd need protection if it were. Since a large military presence would draw attention, we got a small experienced squad."
"You could have said that when I asked the first time."
"No, I couldn't. Not everyone here is cleared for this information."
"And you trust me to keep this to myself?" Carson asked. So far he hadn't been able to figure out this operative and if the man didn't come to a point soon, he knew he'd lose interest.
"I expect you'll do what your instincts tell you," came the answer.
Despite the open space and high ceiling, Carson began to feel stifled almost like the damp air had triggered claustrophobia. Measuring his breath, he turned his back on the weird carvings and unslung his rifle.
"That it?" he asked, wanting to get back out in the sun as quickly as possible.
"That's it," Roman answered and watched as the Sergeant left for the outside. So far this operative hadn't done anything to allay his fears and he ground his lower lip as he stepped back out into the heat.
"Find anything out Sarge?" Phillips asked when Carson appeared back in the light.
Even with the oppressive heat, Carson found that he had broken out into a cold sweat and his hands shook as he opened his canteen again. This place just wasn't natural and it worried him. Beyond the slope, the forest was primeval and intimidating but it was the pyramid that really scared him.
"Nah. Just more of the same old ess-ell-ay bullshit."
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