Read Atlantis: Gate for Free Online

Key West, which he had gone to over three decades previously. The instructors kept students in the water, pushing them hard, until inevitably the body broke down and the student passed out. The instructors would haul the student out and resuscitate him and then tell them to get back in the water. It was brutal but effective training—as all the training Dane had experienced in the Special Forces had been. He had truly only understood that when he was in his first firefight in Vietnam and he had reacted, his body and mind honed by the brutal repetition, keeping him alive while others with lesser training died. The bonds he had forged with those he had served with had been greater than anything he’d experienced before or since.
    But his experience in the Angkor Gate had broken him. Upon his return to Vietnam, after months of barely surviving the long trek through the jungle, his account of what had happened to his team had been met by disbelief. And he had had no desire to ever again be in the situation where the orders of another man would put him in a life-threatening situation. He had let his hitch run out and then come back to the States.
    He’d bought a Harley and rode. For five years. All over the country. Working when he needed money. Many times making his living playing poker, his special sense of emotions and thoughts allowing him a definite advantage over the others he played.
    Then he’d found a puppy, a stray eating out of a dumpster, and picked it up. He stayed in that town for two months, feeding and taking care of the puppy, a mixed breed—mostly German Shepherd with something else mixed in-- until it had its strength back. Then he realized he didn’t want to ride any more. He sold the Harley and took the puppy to a training academy where they both learned search and rescue. Twenty-five years of doing that, and three dogs—Chelsea being the most recent—later, here he was. Drawn back into a role he didn’t want, in a situation he hated. He was no longer a rescuer, but back to being a warrior.
    Gradually, Dane became aware someone was calling him. He looked to the right and saw Foreman on the deck of the FLIP, indicating for him to come over. Reluctantly, Dane began kicking with his legs until he reached the side of the ship. He climbed up a rope onto the deck. He knew it was bad news time.
    “Enjoy yourself?” Foreman asked, the tone indicating his disapproval.
    “I had another vision,” Dane said.
    “Of?”
    Dane quickly explained the sphere and the man in armor holding the Naga staff.
    “These visions aren’t very useful,” Foreman said.
    “A vision saved the world when I was in the Angkor Gate,” Dane reminded the CIA agent. “It showed me how to stop the Shadow’s propagation. I think they’re sent by the Ones Before to help us. And what I saw—“ Dane paused, not sure how to continue. “I’ve seen that image of the man in armor before or something very much like it. Maybe in a book or a movie. I don’t know.”
    “Maybe it was a vision of something that didn’t happen,” Foreman said, “like your vision of Robert Frost and Kennedy.”
    “I’ve been thinking about that too,” Dane said.
    “And?” Foreman prompted.
    “In the vision Frost was saying that his poetry wasn’t his, but rather the voices of the gods, which Sin Fen first told me about. The same voice I heard in Angkor that showed me how to destroy the Shadow’s power propagation.”
    Foreman’s patience was running thin. “And?” he repeated.
    “Maybe there’s more messages in Frost’s poetry,” Dane said.
    Foreman’s face was tight. “Good. Real good. You go read some poetry.” He slapped his hand on the railing. “In the meanwhile, would you mind sitting in on something that might actually be worthwhile?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Professor Nagoya has picked up high levels of muonic activity along the edges of all the tectonic plates terminating in South America.”
    “And?”
    “The