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Shadow is attacking us once more. He and Ahana are crunching the numbers right now but it doesn’t look good.”
    Foreman led the way and Dane followed. They entered the control center where Professor Nagoya and Ahana were seated in front of their computers. The elderly Japanese scientist turned in his seat and scooted over to a small conference table, Ahana following, her hands full of reports.
    “What do you have?” Foreman demanded, taking the seat at the head of the table. Nagoya’s face was pale. “It is most serious.” Ahana passed out a series of pictures. “I have the satellite imagery of the site in South
    America being forwarded to us.” Dane looked at the picture and frowned. Lines, wedges and animal outlines, etched in fire
    spread over many miles. He handed it to the CIA man. “What the hell is that?” Foreman demanded. Ahana had the coordinates. “It is called the Nazca Plain.” “What’s happening there?” Dane asked, the name of the location somewhat familiar to
    him, but he couldn’t quite place why. “We’re not exactly sure,” Ahana said. “But the muonic activity is world-wide, all the
    power being drawn toward that spot.” “Time,” Foreman slapped a hand on the tabletop. “How much time do we have?” “Two days, maybe three.” Ahana said. “That’s a lot of variance,” Foreman said. “I need a tighter prediction.” “No sooner than sixty hours, no later than seventy-two,” Ahana said firmly. “And then?” “When it reaches critical levels, everything we’ve seen so far—Iceland being destroyed,
    the tsunami in Puerto Rico, Mount Erebus erupting—will seem like child’s play. There will be
    massive destruction all along the tectonic lines.” “The bottom line?” Foreman asked. “The end of the world.”
    CHAPTER 2 480 BC
    Whenever he was away from Sparta and in a situation where he felt there was a threat, Leonidas slept in his body armor, a habit he had acquired years ago. It wasn’t physically comfortable, but for the king there was a certain degree of mental solace to be taken from the protection provided by the metal surrounding his vital organs. It also meant he could be ready for battle in a manner of seconds, rather than minutes.
    He slowly stood, his body aching from age and old wounds. He felt old and worn, wishing his squire Xarxon was here to work the muscles. Decades of scar tissue tended to harden during the night producing stiffness. Without the aid of Xarxon, he began the most base of the phonologic exercises that had been drilled into him as a youth in his agoge.
    He spent fifteen minutes working his body until he felt prepared for what the day might offer. He picked up his sword from where it had lain near at hand on his right side. He noted the damage the strange creature the Oracle had called a Valkyrie had caused. He would have to have an armorer work on it as soon as he could. The same with his chest armor. And his shield, he remembered as he picked it up.
    He heard steps and turned, weapon at the ready. A woman wrapped in a red cloak, similar to the scarlet cloak of the knights that Spartans wore, stood about fifteen feet away on the path. The woman was almost as tall as he, with red hair shorn tight against her skull. In an age where few lived past thirty, she was old, appearing to be about forty given the etched lines around her eyes, but in excellent shape as far as he could tell. He wondered how long she had been within view and whether she had seen him doing his exercises.
    Leonidas sheathed his sword and nodded a greeting at the woman, uncertain who she was or her status here. He had spent the night outside the Corycian Cave with just a thin blanket underneath him and his cloak over him. It was what he was used to in the field.
    “Hail and well met, King,” the woman said as she came closer, halting a few paces away as he picked up his helmet. There was no special ornamentation to his headgear, just the stiff brush of hair