Subterranean by James Rollins Page A

“You’re both wrong. Shows your lack of caving experience.” He pointed to his belt with its ring of batteries. “This is your most important piece of equipment. Without batteries, you have no light. Without light, you can’t see what you’re shooting at and no radio in the world is going to guide your ass out of a hole.” He gripped his battery belt. “This is your lifeblood down here.”
    Everyone was staring now at Ben. “Of course,” he said, pulling out a roll of toilet paper from his pack, “this is right bloody important too.”
    Ashley smiled, and Linda suppressed a giggle. Ben did have his moments; she had to give him that.
    â€œWhat about water?” Khalid asked, standing up from where he had been hunched over the radio. “Dehydration is a major danger, isn’t it?”
    â€œSort of. But most major cavern systems have abundant pools of potable water. Just conserve your canteen between watering holes.”
    Ashley gritted her teeth. Radios, guns, batteries, water. Lack of any of them could incapacitate the mission. Too many variables for her tastes.
    The remainder of their pack contents was then explained. Freeze-dried food in tinfoil packets, electrolyte replacement fluid, collapsed air mattresses for sleeping, a first-aid kit, a small box of toiletries, and coiled on top of it all a thick spool of rope. Besides the backpack, each member had a lightweight climbing harness with a chalk bag to dry one’s hands, and a helmet with a carbide lamp.
    Ben’s pack contained additional climbing equipment: carabiners, quick draws, and anchoring bolts. The need for this equipment was obvious to Ashley. Major Michaelson’s pack, however, frightened her. It contained four more pistols, a collapsed rifle, and boxes and boxes of seal-cloth-wrapped ammunition.
    If that wasn’t enough, the team had finally been introduced to the two other members of their expedition—Major Skip Halloway and Major Pedro Villanueva. The insignia of an eagle gripping a trident on their shoulders advertised their expertise. Navy SEALs, the elite. They wore weapons at their waists, and each hefted a double pack. A heavy load, but they looked like muscled machines, workhorses with weapons.
    Ben nudged her. “Bloody lot of firepower we’re dragging with us.”
    She nodded. “I don’t like it.”
    â€œI heard about those SEALs. Never go anywhere without a wicked arsenal.”
    Ashley chewed her lower lip. “Why do you think—”
    Blakely interrupted, “From here, Professor Carter will be in charge. Her word is my word.”
    Ashley noticed a smirk from the redheaded Seal, Skip Halloway. He elbowed his buddy, whose expression remained stoic. Black-haired and black-eyed, Pedro Villanueva was as difficult to read as a slab of marble.
    She sighed. Great, two more macho men to keep under her thumb. She noticed she wasn’t the only one checking out the newcomers. Khalid’s face was clouded with an especially dour expression as he studied the SEALs. His lips then curled up at the corners in an unpleasant manner. He turned away to whisper something in Linda’s ear. She smiled, covering a laugh with a small hand.
    â€œSo,” Ben said, “are you ready to lead this ragtag band of adventurers into the heart of the world?”
    â€œRight now I’m just hoping there’s no mutiny.”
    Ashley crossed toward the small opening in the south wall of the cavern. She eyed the tiny tunnel. Called a wormhole, it looked more like a sewer drain to her. The black entrance stood only two and a half feet high. She crouched and shined her hand lantern down the tube. With a backpack on, she estimated, it would be nearly impossible even to crawl through these holes.
    To answer this riddle, the final piece of their equipment was introduced. Blakely handed her a wheeled plastic board.
    â€œA skateboard?” Ashley spun a wheel