“Jabir ibn Hayyan,” Adira breathed. “The great alchemist.”

“Yes. You see? You do know me.”

“How is this possible?” Alex started to move around the dank chamber, searching for the source of the voice.

“How? Life is easy, death is hard,” the voice rasped. “Crossing from one to the other sometimes takes a bravery I do not possess. So I decided to wait, making myself immortal, choosing those who can help me travel through the ages. Choosing only those strong enough to bear my burden.”

“What is your burden?” Alex noticed several large openings in the back of the chamber.

“My intellect, my secrets, my … self.”

“You are creating these things, the Travelers?” Adira asked.

“Yes. Do you like them? The people who currently live in these lands do. They help me, but wanted something in return. So I showed them how to make life from non-life. I gave them their ultimate warriors, the Zhayedan, the mighty Immortals of legend – single purposed, unthinking, strong beyond measure.”

There was a grating laugh of pure malevolence. “I told them I could create an army of Zhayedan, just like the ten thousand I gave to King Xerxes. With them, they would be able to defeat any army at Dabiq. I told them, like him, they could conquer the world.”

This time, the laugh was more disdainful. “Fools, they were mere dirt to me. All I really needed was to learn more about the outside world, draw on the weak minds of those brought before me. To search for the one, the next one to bear my burden … to search for you, Captain Alex Hunter.”

There was a soft sigh. “I can spare the lives of your people. I can stop the Zhayedan; stop the bombs from ever being used again. But in return you must give me something.”

“What.” Alex had a sense of deep foreboding. This was no chance meeting, but now seemed to have been engineered, everything planned, even from the very first detonation.

“You. I need you, your strength, your regenerative abilities. You alone are worthy enough to carry my burden – to carry me!”

“Carry you?” An image formed in Alex’s mind as he peered into the rear of the dark cave-like room. It horrified and intrigued him. He sensed eyes on them. “Where are you? Come out and we can talk properly. I’m ready.”

“Yes, yes you are. I think we are both ready. First, lay down your weapons.”

“Like fuck I will.” Casey had her gun pointed toward the dark alcoves at the rear of the room.

“Ah, the warrior woman; a small display then, just for you, Casey Franks.”

“Hey wait …” Alex never finished, as there came a sound like a wet slap, and Casey fell to the ground, her face bloody and her body jerking as if in a fit. Guns came up, and the team formed up, back to back around her prone body.

“What the fuck just happened?” Sam yelled.