THE HAUNTING PAST MYSTERY OF THUNDER ISLAND

THE HAUNTING PAST: MYSTERY OF THUNDER ISLAND I know that it will sound like a combination, of bizzarre, and weird, but what I state is the complete truth. Tami and I had just been assigned to review a case, in which a female client was positive, to the point, of obsession, that the fact that her own daughters were playing with a "spirit board" meant that the girls were "playing" with dark magic. The mothers "proof" was the "fact" that, when the parents took the board away, soon after this, the girls were found, playing with the board, again. This gave Tami a laugh, as she remembered the doll, that her own mother had taken away, more than once. Problem was that Tami KNEW where mother put away things. This is why Tami kept the doll, and did not part with it until she saw that her mother no-longer cared. Now, we were being sent to get rid of a board game. How crazy is life? What we did not expect was what happened when a "temp" took over for Mr. Brown's secretary. While Tami and I were glad, when the board game case was "brushed aside", what we, never, figured on was being assigned to, was the mystery of a place called "Thunder Island". (As if Thunder Road was not bad enough.) The best part, of the case, was that, un-like the Mystery of the Drag Racers, and Mystery of Thunder Road, this mystery had nothing to do with race cars. According to the contact, Thunder Island was much more similar to Disney's "Night on Bald Mountain." Maybe a cross with Milificents castle, from "Snow White". What our contact wanted to know was why, even on clear nights, thunder could be heard, and lightning could be seen, streaking, about the island. The Brown Agency was being asked to investigate because as many as twenty other investigators had gone to the Island, with none returning. When I asked Tami "Just where is this island located?" Tami would pull up photos, of an island, inside the lake, of a volcano crater. Tami would say "$20.00 says that the people went into the mountain, and are lost, inside." I could agree with this since, after all, geography showed that the island was, actually, PART of the mountain. Rain had just filled in the gully, between the walls, and the island. As Mr. Brown would suggest, via vid-conference: "The contact wants to know if noises, and effects, are man-made. If so, what is the reason/purpose?" This was the kind of research that Tami LOVED doing. Learning about a place, via research, and reading. It did not take her long, at all, to learn that the original mountain top had been above the island, and that the island was the top of a volcanic vent. This is why it had survived the explosion, from centuries ago. The vent was a pressure release point. All that I can say is that the mountain must have been massive, since the crater, around the vent, was massive enough, to make the biggest lake, in my hometown, look like a creek, by comparison. While locals currently used the lake, for boating, and swimming, there were more utility-style plans, in the works. If Tami and I could de-bunk the supernatural stories, there were plans, to drill into the lake, and let its water supply handle the local towns water needs. Before any drilling could take place, however, the lake, and island, had to be verified as free of danger, to health and life. This is why twenty missing people had to be found. Tami's main concern was that, even if this mountain was "extinct", there could be MILES, of underground vents. Who knew WHERE the other, missing, people were. Upon arrival, at the location, our pilots were relieved to find enough space, to land, on the island, itself. Nothing suspicious, upon arrival. Just a quiet island, sitting among the lakes water, containing tree's, grass, and some abandoned buildings. Due to the otherwise rugged nature, of the island, we agreed with our pilots, who set up our version of U.A.V.'s. (Un-manned, Aerial Vehicles) Basically, radio-controlled planes. After each, of the walkman sized robots was airborn, Tami returned to researching the vent system. This while our pilots, and myself, went scouting about the area. The island was not "huge", but it was big enough for people to sun-bathe, and to hold picnics, on. A FULL, DEEP, recon, of the island, took about one day. By this time, however, Tami had some very bad news, for us. "My research has, so far, yielded atleast 87 places, where people could either hide, or be lost." When our pilot asked "DIstress beacons?" Tami would check the recorders then say "So far, nothing." When our co-pilot asked "Could the rocks, and boulders, be blocking the signal?" Tami would say "Anything is possible." Our first week, on the island, was so quiet that it was like there was no one, else, in the world. No action. No thunder. No lightning. Just native insects. Actually, the only "action", that we had was when Tami sent the U.A.V.'s into the vents. She had to recall the units, within 500 feet, of entry, since they came upon an unusually wide spread layer of Lead. As to what Lead might be doing, in volcanic vents, this was anyones guess. Since even Tami and I knew how badly that even dense Lead inhalations could damage the human brain, this is why we were happy to have our militarty-reject respirators. Now, the defense department had contracted for portable respirators, which would supply nearly un-limited, breathable, air, for as long as worn, the contractor just could not seem to make the device last more than five days. This is why myself, and the pilots, put on our gear, respirators, and signal-boosting equipment, before proceeding past the point, where remote, radio, reception just did not exist, due to the lead. While the three of us must have looked like aliens, in our suits, our signal-boosters kept us on-line, with G.S.2. If there was one, annoying thing, about these suits, it was the "Heads Up Display". From the moment, when we passed the first point, of strong lead content, the H.U.D. kept a constant read out on the atmosphere. Now I understood why the military turned down these suits. It was because of the maddeningly constant reminders. I mean, HOW are soldiers supposed to get work done, when suits kept flashing "WARNING", and the count down, to the five day limit. After each twelve hour pass, we had to return to the plane, and toss those suits aside. (I truly, doubt, that the manufacturer would like our review, of their equipment.) While the suggestion was made, that the tunnels/vents could be hosed down, to settle the lead, there were atleast twenty problems, with this option. ALL of them had families, waiting for word. How would it look if we drowned people, to search for them? The only good/bad "news", that Tami had, to report, to Mr. Brown, was that the island seemed quiet, since our arrival. Not one sign of thunder, or lightning. This lead Tami and I to question the "urban legend" theory, that couples came to the island, during storms, for "romantic evenings". We were about ten days, on the island, when a couple of things happened. First, Mr. Black sent us some prototype tracted robots. These, we sent into the vents, and were "hard-wired" to G.S.2. Second, Tami had to minimize a search screen, when a U.A.V. detected movement. It was the other side of the island, however, thanks to U.A.V. developments, Tami had a clear picture, of two families, arriving, by boat, to the island. Nothing suspicious. Just a couple of older men, with fishing poles, women, lounging, on the beach, and children, playing in the lake. Tami only noted the information, in her report, since she wondered just how MANY locals believed in Thunder Island. Personally, I was both amazed, and thankful, at the amazing advance, which Mr. Blacks team had made, with fibre optics. 30,000 feet, of cable, taking the space of only a single spool. About the only thing we learned, by week two, was that the lead was NOT a naturally occurring deposit. All scans verified that the lead was in sheets. Two feet thick, twelve feet tall, and twenty-five feet, long. This posed a problem, for both G.S.2, and the Brown Agency, since neither could find any lead producers, who worked with such large sheets. Since lead is so pliable, it would have had to be shipped, in storage containers. If stored "free-style", it would have bowed and sagged. Even Mr. Browns contacts could find no shop, which handled lead, in such sizes. Back at Thunder Island, the robot had just reached the 10,000 foot mark, when it located the missing investigators. According to the video feed, however, it was like the people were telling the probe to "go back!", even as it rounded the corner, to locate them. When Tami thought she saw a shadow, behind the robot, and switched views, to the rear, even our co-pilot would ask "What the..." as a slab came down, across the tunnel. Now, under normal circumstances, such a fall should have severed the link, leaving the probe useless. Whoever the people were, who built this place, they had no idea they would be coming up against Mr. Brown's detective agency. Mr. Brown. The man who built a detective agency out of recruiting the brightest, most talented, zaniest, and odd-ball, people that he could find. This was the secret, of the Brown Agency's success. A human version of the Skunkworks. To date, NO case had gone beyond the unique variety of the Brown Agency staff members talents. This case was no exception. At the request, of the Department of Defense, Mr. Black's techs had been working to develop a new material, to connect robot probes, to their base of operations. Thunder Island would serve to test just how good Mr. Blacks techs really were. While the slab may have come crashing down, with the weight of 20 (+) tons, our experimental cable withstood the impact, in fine style. So far as we could tell, the explorers may have been dehydrated, and mal-nourished, but all were alive. As the "leader", of the group, told Tami, via the video camera, "This place is a trap. It is triggered by movement." When Tami would ask "Is that why you have not emerged, yet?" The man said "Yes" When Tami asked "How LONG until reset?" The man would say "Five hours, maybe six. Remember, if you try to move your robot, it will trigger the trap, again." Tami would say "Got it. Talk to you, soon." After sending off a flash message, to headquarters, Tami would gather us together, asking "Any idea's?" Our co-pilot would say "I dont get it. We dont have any bases, near here. Why go to all of this effort, for useless land?" Our pilot would say "Good point. Right now, however, our focus should be on rescue. Not on who did this, or why." When Tami would say "I am not so certain. Now, while you men work up a rescue plan, I am going to continue my research. Maybe something, in the past, will shed some light on this." When our co-pilot would come up with the idea of using jackhammers, and hydraulic vice grips, the group would say "We tried picks and shovels. We tried some C-4. The more noise, and vibration, the more the tunnels react. We DID have eight air shafts, providing breathable air. With each escape attempt, one closed. We have only four shafts, to provide us with lead free air." When Tami would ask "Speaking of lead, HOW did you make it, so far, without breathing equipment?" Another team member would show the used up air purifiers, which each team member had used. By this time, our co-pilot would have either earned a medal, or a court-martial, for ripping the displays out of the helmets. Now, we would have to rely on wits, to make sure we surfaced, BEFORE the fresh air gave out. Since it would have been impossible even to FIT our hovercraft into the tunnels, the pilots, and myself, would be left, to turn a pallet into a sled, and load fresh suits onto it. While the trap door did, in fact, retract, as predicted, this, still left the question of how to defeat the trap door. When everyone, from the D.O.D., to Black Ops, denied any knowledge, of this place, or the trap door, the best that anyone came up with was when one of Mr. Blacks tech's suggested using a high-wire act. The action, which the tech recommended, was right out of classic burglary, and secret agent, movies. The idea would be to bring the suits within visual range of the trapped workers. At this point, we would use a special type, of grip, to anchor one end, of the line, outside of the trap. The other end, the pilot would shoot just over the heads, of the trapped researchers. With the kevlar/titanium blend line, between the two points, the suits would be opened, and made ready. After this, each person, trapped, would zip line over to our side. The process may have been time-consuming, tiring, and energy-draining, but, with almost four and a half days to spare, a group, of tired, drained, hungry, people, would emerge from the tunnel. The pilot even managed to save our robot, by using a second zip line, to lift the unit from the floor. After showers, meals, and personal contacts, with employers, to verify that people were, in fact, alive, Tami gave us the bad news. No one. Not military. Not civilian. Not private enterprise. No one had any knowledge of the traps in the tunnels. As Tami would report "Almost to a source, all believe that the tunnels were carved by old prospectors. The shape, of the lead, is just coincidence. Everyone I have contacted shares the notion that this place was just an old mine." When I suggested "As for the alleged thunder, and light..." This is when atleast two researchers would ask "What do you mean, "alleged"?" Tami would interrupt, saying "Since we have been here, all is quiet. No thunder, lightning, witches, on brooms. Nothing. Personally, I think this would be a great place to have a week off." When another researcher would ask "Did you plane sneak in, as we did?" I would ask "Why?" The researcher would say "If they dont know you commin', they have fun, round here. Its when they KNOW you here that everything is quiet." This is when our pilot would ask "Are you saying that someone is CONTROLLING events, in this area, and that, if they SEE us, taking off, the special effects will start up?" Tami would ask "Why not? Remember that one case we worked. The one where all was quiet, as long as locals saw our plane parked near the location." Our co-pilot would say "Boy, do I remember that one. Place was as quiet, as a graveyard, until we flew away." Our pilot would add "Yeah, we had to fly two cities away, to find a place to park. Took us almost four hours to return." This is when Tami would ask "Who is in for some hide-and-seek?" Making sure to be SEEN packing up, G.S.2 lifted off, and flew away. Just as our extra passengers had said, by making our exit noticable, we were assured that life would go back to "normal". Thanks to our pilots former military service, G.S.2 did not have to fly two cities away, this time. No, according to a source, at the Pentagon, there was a "blast bunker", located just outside of town. Our source would tell us that this was just one, of nearly a dozen "off the radar" test sites, for new explosives. Even before the bombing of Japan, there had been "whispers", about new blasting, devices. With the possibility that an explosive, with atomic force, but without radioactive fall-out, being tossed about Europe, Washington D.C. had set up its own "think-tanks", and "proving grounds", to test the deadliest weapons imaginable. When Tami inquired, the source told her "This information is not to be made public, for 250 more years." Tami would promise "We are private investigators. Nothing, that we do, is made public. If you want an N.D.A., I can provide one." That was true. Mr. Brown's primary success lay in the fact that only clients knew of the firms existance. New clients only came from former clients. According to the information, which the source shared, with Tami, no more than five attempts, at "super-explosives" were made. Sure, there were PLENTY of THEORIES, about what SHOULD work. Plenty of equasions. Afer a total of five failures, all of which had been promised could level half of North America, in a single blast, the program had been cancelled. During the time, of the Berlin Wall, and the threat, of Communism, the bunkers became storage depots, in case the Soviets did, actually, invade the U.S. Since the bunkers were buried below ground, it was thought that atleast a few would survive aerial attack. After the fall, of the Soviet Union, the stockpiled weapons were sold off, to military schools. For the past 25 years, the bunkers had sat unused. All-but forgotten, by the world. Best of all, each had a camouflauged runway. While our pilots expected a bumpy landing, on a runway, which had seen much better days, all, on-board our plane, were surprised at how smooth the landing was. There was even a left over winch, which our pilots used to tow G.S.2 into an un-used hangar. After our pilots got our hovercraft ready for use (our cars would be useless, on the lake.), ALL of us were surprised to find some old style hovercraft, left over from the cold war. While not ten percent as silent as our own craft, the fact that these were antiques would cause loss of interest, in no time. While one, of the team leaders, would express "I hope the military does not mind our using their equipment." Our co-pilot would suggest "Dont worry about it. If the brass felt this equipment had any use, it would have been gone decades ago." Driving AROUND the town was easy, in our craft. We could float over anything. The angle, of the mountain, was no problem, either. We just skimmed up the sides, over the lake, then settled in, on Thunder Island. Thankfully, decades, of dis-use made the military hovercraft "Blend right in", with the terrain. Now, we wait. And wait, we did. All of this, while Tami tracked the legends of the eruption, which had created this crater, and the island. The most reliable information came from the indian tribes. Their information said that, at some point, LONG before even the Vikings came, the god, of the Earth, had become angry. No one, really, agreed on the reason. The story said that, when the god became enraged, he set forth a mighty roar, which blew the Earth into the sky. The Earth was like fire, liquid and molten. When Tami checked on the vent, which formed the core of the island, she found legends, of jewels, and gold, being tossed into the vent, to appease the gods. She found rumors, of gold, silver, even lead, being melted down, then poured on the walls of the vent. When Tami asked "WHY?", the tribal council could only come up with a version, of relieving stress, with massage. The vent was smoothed so that any pressure build up would find easy passage to the sky, where the spirits would take the polutants away. Nice bed time stories, but less than relevant. Mr Brown had sent us here to find facts. Not bed time stories. When some thunder, and lightning, did begin to over-take the island, yet it seemed to RISE from the ground, not strike the ground, one of the researchers told me not to bother looking. The sources, of the thunder, and lightning, were mobile. The researchers had spent days trying to track he source. When I would suggest "If it is mobile, then it has to be man-made." Another researcher would ask "Okay, WHERE do they hide it, when not in use?" When I suggested "The vents." The researchers would suggest "Without breathing equipment? The lead would not only poison their lungs. It would saturate their clothes. Even their food." For the next two weeks, until the full moon, all we could do was watch, and gather data, on the island. One thing I CAN report. I learned why they called this place "THUNDER Island." When the thunder really "kicked up", it roared, so loud, it would make an acid rock concert seem quiet, by comparison. Tami might have smiled, as the other, female, researchers, jumped into mens arms, as the thunder crashed. That is, except for the fact that, while the thunder was at full blast, my partner hid within the hovercraft, herself. While our pilots made every effort, to TRACK the noise, it was useless. With the crater walls, sounds bounced back and forth, like ping pong balls. The first night, of the full moon, was a total "wash out", and I mean that, literally. A storm, maybe magnitude eight, swept over the island, and only our sealed cabin, on the hovercraft, kept us dry. Our pilots would say they held sympathy, for the researchers, in the other hovercraft. These were not built to be waterproof. They were built to hover OVER water. While the storm lasted from dusk, until about 2 a.m., Tami and I agreed with our pilots. Best to wait until daybreak, then check for damage. As for warmth, even I did not understand the tech, which was employed, to generate heat, inside the cabin. All I knew was that, no matter the outside temperature, the heating system kept us warm. While OUR radio system, including our link, to G.S.2 was waterproofed, it would turn out that the other craft were not so lucky. We found this out at about 02:30 hours, when the other hovercraft began using a flashlight, to signal us. Now, sure, the four of us COULD have returned, to G.S.2 any time that we wanted to, but our pilots would say that it would be better, for morale, if we stayed. Come sun rise, both craft returned to G.S.2, and this is when we learned another truth, about private enterprise. Since Thunder Island was an inland lake, with a town, close by, the investigators had been supplied only basic, hiking, rations. Sure, they were "delicious", and "nutritious", but the "economy size", meant very little content. In fact, it would take atleast four, of the packs, to equal just one of our military surplus rations. Still, we rested, for an extended time. Not due to fatigue, or full stomachs. The problem was that, over time, the waterproofed seals, on the other hovercraft, had eroded. The craft had, barely, made it to the plane, before its systems shut-down, due to "exposure to moisture". When a researcher would ask "Why didn't the military spend the money, to waterproof this thing?" Our co-pilot would remind the researcher "Sir, you have to understand.. This craft is over half a century old. Eventually, even the seals, on OUR hovercraft, will need to be replaced." This is why, as our pilots took apart the engines, the rest of us got busy, with towels, rags, and so on. The sooner that the parts were dried out, the sooner that the craft would be operational, again. The seals, however, were another problem, altogether. Due to the age of the craft, this type, of seal had gone out of production, decades ago. This is where Mr. Blacks tech department went to work, again. Using detailed measurements, and the serial numbers, from the engines, Mr. Black had his techs turning out replacement gaskets, by mid-afternoon. By supper time, another, vertical lift, plane was setting the cases off, right near the disabled ship. It was a good thing, too, since the original gaskets just fell to pieces, when parts came apart. Decades, of storage, and dry rot, had taken their toll. Tami would send Mr. Black our thanks, both for the engine gaskets, and the hatch, and window, seals. By evening, we had the old machine operating like our hovercrafts grand-father. With G.S.2's link, to the National Weather Service, when the report showed another storm in-bound, we used every hand we could get, to drag out some chutes, from our plane, and covered the "grand-father" with them. Sure enough, just as we closed the hatch, of G.S.2, the rain began to fall. While we could see the storm, cutting loose, on the island, when the researchers asked about interior silence, our pilots were left to explain what G.S.2 was, originally, designed for. When the researchers asked "BY the way, how MUCH do you expect this plane cost the American taxpayer?" Almost as a chorus, all four of us said "Dont ask." After all, WHAT would taxpayers think if they knew that up to $900 billion, of their tax dollars had been spent, on this "reject"? A plane, which spent its days chasing spirits. Un-like the hovercraft, G.S. 2 had the finest sound baffles, in existance. The design was also so sleek that it would take the most powerful, hurricane force, winds, just to rock our "boat". While the researchers were working on their own notes, Tami was working the internet, trying to find some very OLD information, on this island. And, YES, G.S.2 had "snuck back", to the island, on a moon-less, overcast, night. The problem Tami found was that there just weren't any records, dating before 1791. Only the oral history, of the tribes. In fact, it was only two weeks later, that an indian elder arrived, at the island, with his great grand son. The elder asked us "Would you, PLEASE, explain, to my great-grand-son, that the vents are not safe. He will DIE, if he goes there." While Tami would mention "There are toxic levels, of lead, in the vent, are you sure you want to risk that?" When the young brave would say "The ancient ones. They will protect me." When I would ask "WHO are the ancient ones? WHERE do they live?" The elder would say "Our legends say that the ancient ones have ships, like yours. They just had the ships centuries before." When Tami would ask "You know this HOW?" The young man would say "It is part of our history. I will be the first brave to see them, in many moons." I was about to object, until the lead researcher would suggest "Why not let him make his attempt. Normal gear. The elder can watch, from the plane." While the brave did not want the gear, it was only when the elder would say "Put it on, or go home." The brave put ON the suit. When the brave entered the vent, Tami locked the drones frequencies onto the suits. When the brave found the lead sheets, he called "Grand-Father. It is the story of the old ones." When the elder asked "How does it begin?" The brave began reading, in the indian language, but only until the elder realized that only he indians understood. When the elder called "Grand-son. I should have said "Read it in English." The brave would say "As soon as I can find a panel, which can be read." When Tami called, to the brave, "How MANY languages are present?" The brave would reply "So far, I have found five. Cherokee, Navaho, Iroquoi, plains..." A researcher would say "Interesting. Finding writings, in so many, indian, languages." When Tami would ask "In what way?" The researcher would say "The nations had no alphabet, that we knoow of. Am I right sir?" The Elder would say "Until the white man came, we had no need." We began to discuss this, but only until the brave would say "This MUST be a joke." When the elder would ask "Grand-son, WHAT is a joke?" The young man would say "Grand-Father, these researchers MUST have planted this information." When the lead researcher would ask "What does he mean?" and the elder would ask "What is your reason?" The brave would say "If I am reading this, correctly, it claims that Starfleet, and colonial battlestars, are waiting, just beyond the edge of the solar system." When the elder would ask "Does it SAY what they are waiting for?" The brave would say "Grand-father, our science class sent a recorder out, on the last mission. It left the solar system just last year. If Starfleet, or anyone else, were waiting, dont you think our camera's would have shown them?" When a researcher would suggest "Maybe, a cloaking device?" Everyone looked at the man, like he was half crazy. He would add "Just saying." When the elder would ask our group "Does your robot have a scanner?" Our pilot would tell Tami "Command 2145, Alpha." Within moments, we were receiving computer-enhanced feed from the probe. As the brave closed on the trap door, Tami cautioned him, and he replied "Yes, miss. I see the signs, of tools. I know where to step." The elder would say "I hope he DOES remember." Maybe 1,000 feet beyond any point where either man, or probe, had travelled, so far, the brave would find a fallen piece, of lead, then he reported, to G.S.2 "It seems the rock was not stroong enough to hold this piece." He, then, held the piece up, for probe examination, before placing it aside, so that the probe could scan the underlying sheet. A few minutes later, we, all, heard the sound, of feet. This, even before the brave would ask "I thought you said no one else was down here." When our pilot would cut in, asking "Son, pan your camera around, maybe just 180 degree's." When the brave did this, something flashed by, just beyond the edge of vision. This is when the field researcher would sound off, asking "Simmons, where are you?" When Tami asked "Who is Simmons?" A female researcher would say "Simmons is a creep, who LOVES to play tricks. HOW he got on this team, I will, never, know." It was not until Simmons entered the plane, asking "What is the shouting about. I was just collecting some fire-wood." This is when the elder would remember an old story. The story, of a demon, who guards a treasure. When the elder would voicee his concern, to the brave, saying "I think you have come too close, to the treasure. You have awoken the demon, which guards it." When Tami would ask "Guards what?" The elder would say "The story says that when the Great god became angry at the sickness of the world, he broguth forth the great rain." Tami would say "Noahs flood. Every kid knows that story." The elder would add "What your Christian history does NOT tell you is what happened after the flood." When our co-pilot woulld say "Sure it does. It claims that God promised Noah there would, never, be another, great flood. Everybody knows that." The elder would say "Son, that is the Christian version, of history. Among OUR history, it is claimed that, before the flood, when our ancestors looked to the sky, and read the signs, they placed the best of us, all that we had become, into a cave, and sealed it, shut." When Tami would ask "Your ancestors buried people, ALIVE?" The elder would say "We buried no one, alive. The story says that we buried all of our accumulated KNOWEDGE. The story says that a sacrifice was made, to place a demon in charge of security. The demon will "stand down" ONLY when man has learned the great lessons." When a researcher would ask "WHAT great lessons? Peace, and Harmony?" The elder would say "The demon will only step down..." This is when the enforcer demon would appear, saying "The indian is correct, for the most part. The indians DID hide their most important information. They called forth the strongest power, that they could think of, as a sort-of security guard. That is what is hunting the brave. When Tami would ask "Why a demon? Why not just several bricks thick, of wall?" The demon would say "Insurance. Good thing they thought of it when they did. Man! When this mountain went up. She made St. Helens look like a picnic." When I would ask "How did the island survive?" The demon would say "What you are calling an "island" is, in fact, and in truth, a pressure release vent. I wont bore you with the details, except to say that you better hope that kid is NOT inside the tubes, the next time it blows." When Simmons would joke "What if he is? Will Satan be watching, for him?" The Enforcer demon would give the man a look more deadly than Tami and I had seen, before. The demon would inform the rest of us "If ANY mortal is in that tube, next time it blows, they will, never, survive the ride." With that, the demon vanished. Atleast now, Tami could verify that the island, and lake, were caused by a volcanic eruption. While the elder was asking the brave to leave the vent, and escape the beast, the brave responded "It knows where I am. Too late to go back. Going for the treasure." Deeper, inside the mountain, the brave no-sooner said "Eureka!", and showed a great treasure, un-seen, by human eyes, in thousand of years, when a growl was followed by the braves life signs flat-lining. Strange thing was, Tami was just asking the elder "What will the demon do with the remains?" when the video showed the demon, dragging the body back to the central entrance. The demon seemed immune, to the lead. All the elder would say was "I hope the Great Spirit is kind to my grand-son." To our astonishment, the demon loaded the body onto the robot, then made the HUMAN sign for "Get out." Fortunately, the robot was wired to the braves suit, so retrieval was possible. While the robot brought the body back, to the surface, the whole lot of us, reviewed the video, from just before the death, trying to figure out what was worth killing for. The closest that we can, was the elders translation, of a lead panel. The panel described a process, by which static electricity would be collected, by some un-specified material, and released, under predetermined conditions. On another panel was written the reason for the traps. It was to frighten away the curious. It was, even, written that, at the time, the top, of the volcano, had been sealed, to prevent entry. In fact, the volcano had been sealed, at several, different points. The problem, with the indian version, of history, was that it stated that the volcano had been sealed just before the flood, of about 5,000 years ago. HOW could this be correct, since samples indicated that erosion went much further back? The best, that Mr. Blacks team could come up with was 100,000 (+) years. In summary, it would seem that while SOME-one had hidden SOME-thing away, setting up a series, of traps, to prevent intrusion, and even sealing off access, mother nature had done her own work. At SOME point, in history, the mountain had needed release, even more than someone needed security. When the pressure found its path blocked, it, literally, blew its top off. Maybe 10,000 feet worth. This left behind a damaged, security, station, a crater, an island, and a demon, which no one remembered to shut off. The reason why the island was ruled "off limits", to development, was not due to the demon. It was due to a security system, which no one had seen, before. It was a technology which is far in advance of our own. With no, known, way, to dis-arm it, Thunder Island would remain a blissful mystery. All that the video showed was that there were some kind of "documents", protected by a life-form. The question was: IF indian lore were correct, then WHEN would mankind be ready to accept the knowledge? While Tamis "final report", to the Brown Agency, would look more like swiss cheese, Mr. Brown did remind us that the goal was to find out WHAT the causes, of the thunder, and lightning, were. Not to stop them. According to Mr. Brown "None of us can be held responsible for what people might have done half a million years ago. We are responsible for today." While G.S.2 did airlift the researchers, from Thunder Island, we were happy when everyone signed the non-disclosure forms. (Even Simmons signed, once reminded of the potential penalty). The elder, we delivered to their tribe. At reservation request, Tami and I remained for the funeral service. After the service, the tribal shaman placed a charm/spell on the plane. With thanks, we departed the area. On to the next case...