Somewhere off in the distance, Agamemnon heard the steady throb of drumbeats invading the darkness of his mind. The more he tried to ignore it, the louder the noise grew until at last he cracked his eyes open and saw the world in front of him turned around.

His hands were bound behind him, and he felt a throbbing in his head from being suspended upside down over a black pit far below. He glanced up and saw the knots binding his feet were secured to a rope that looked to be made of hemp.

Where am I? he wondered.

Memories flooded his consciousness. He remembered the tunnel and the cave. He thought of Eduardo and the American sniper. He remembered chastising Eduardo for forming a truce with the enemy.

And then the noises. The dart in his neck.

I must have been knocked out.

He turned as the rope creaked above him. It looked strong enough, but the sounds of it creaking didn’t do much for Agamemnon’s faith in its ability to last long.

Next to him, dangling in similar fashion, he saw Eduardo and the sniper. Agamemnon smiled. At least the sniper would die. But he had to figure out a way to free himself.

And Eduardo.

They had to get out of here.

He looked down at the rock ledge and the man whipping his followers into a frenzy. Judging from the costume and the chanting, he was the man in charge.

“Hey!” he shouted.

Agamemnon’s voice was drowned out by the roar of the crowd. He could see the men, women and children all chanting and clapping their hands in time to the drummed beat.

What is going on here?

Agamemnon glanced down at the pit. The fire that ringed it cast only a little bit of light farther down. Making out anything in detail seemed impossible. But since they were slowly descending toward the pit, Agamemnon found himself concentrating on what it might contain.

Spikes? Hot, molten lava of some sort?

He shuddered. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. And he had to somehow get free and get out of here.

He had a city to vaporize.

He twisted on the rope, straining at the knots that bound his hands. He shrugged his body and tried flexing his muscles. But every time he tried, he only succeeded in making the knots bite into his skin.

A small dribble of blood fell from his wrists and sank into the black pit.

And then Agamemnon felt something move next to him. Eduardo’s eyes fluttered open. “Sir?”

“Eduardo.”

Eduardo struggled with his bonds. “What is this?”

“We seem to be suspended above a pit ringed with fire. Every time they beat the drum, the rope lowers us a little bit more.”

“What’s in the pit?”

“I don’t know.”

Eduardo struggled with his knots again.

“They’re tight. I already tried to get loose,” Agamemnon said.

Eduardo relaxed and looked around. “I see they took us all. Probably in the tunnel, huh?”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“I heard something. And then felt a prick in my back.”

“They got my neck.” Agamemnon frowned. “They also got your newest friend, I see.”

“He’s not my friend, Agamemnon. I was forced to make an alliance with him and the woman. Otherwise, they would have left me there and I wouldn’t be able to serve you any longer.”

“I suppose that makes sense, then. But it was awfully dangerous of you to risk compromising our mission.”

Eduardo glanced at the sniper, who still seemed to be unconscious. “We shouldn’t talk about that right now. Not with him so close to us.”

Agamemnon smiled. “We’re all hanging here. Even if we get free, there’s no way I’ll allow him to survive this ordeal. He’s as good as dead.”

Eduardo nodded. “Good.”

Agamemnon glanced up at his feet. He could see the rope vanish up into the rock ceiling. Somewhere up there, they must have had a series of levers. But who was holding the rope?

Agamemnon looked back down at the ledge. He scanned the crowd and finally spotted three men standing off to one side. Each of them held a rope. And every time the drum sounded, they let another fistful of rope go, lowering Agamemnon, Eduardo and the sniper closer to the pit.

“That’s them,” he said.

“Who, sir?”

“The men holding us up. They control our fate. If we’re to get out of this alive, we need to figure out how to get to them.”

“With our hands tied behind us? I’m not sure how we could hope to pull that off.”

Agamemnon nodded. “Give me some time to think it over.”

“Time doesn’t seem to be a commodity we have that much of.”

Agamemnon smiled. “Even the bleakest situations can have some good in them. It’s just a matter of looking at it from all perspectives.”

“If you say so, sir.”

“Anyone ever tell you guys that you talk way too much?”

Agamemnon turned and saw the American sniper’s eyes were now open. He looked pained and as he considered his situation, Agamemnon looked him over. He was obviously extremely fit. The camouflage face paint he wore couldn’t disguise the fact that he had a hard face. He was accustomed to killing. In another life, Agamemnon would have loved having a man of his talents around.

But they were enemies now.

The sniper eyed him. “Hey, I know you. You’re Agamemnon, right?”

“How do you know me?”

The sniper actually grinned. “Oh, we’ve got lots of photographs of you back in Manila. Seems like you’ve pissed off a good number of people, buddy. Your time on this planet is severely limited. I’d get a will in order if I was you.”

Agamemnon chuckled. “I don’t think any of us are in an enviable position right now.”

The sniper grinned. “Fair point.”

“So, you were sent to kill me?”

“Not this time. Only your second-in-command.”

“What about the next time?”

The sniper shrugged. “Who knows? It might be me. Could be someone else. It’s a crapshoot. Lots of talented shooters around.”

Eduardo spit at the sniper. “You will all die.”

The wad of spit missed its mark and plummeted into the pit.

“Do you have any ideas on how we might get out of this mess?” Agamemnon asked.

The sniper eyed him. “You want me to help you?”

“You and Eduardo had an agreement. We might be better off extending it to include me, as well.”

The sniper laughed. “Since we’re all in exactly the same position, I don’t know how much help I’ll be.”

“Look,” Agamemnon said, “those men down there hold the ropes that keep us from falling right into the pit.”

He watched the sniper follow his gaze to where the three warriors clutched the ropes.

“They don’t seem very tired.”

“I imagine they have some sort of lever system in place up there that makes holding us fairly simple.”

The sniper nodded. “All right, so what’s your plan? You want to attack them with our psychic abilities?”

“I’m not sure yet, but I did want to make you aware of the all the factors I’ve been able to fathom.”

“Okay.” The sniper looked at his feet and Agamemnon watched him rub his ankles together trying to break the knots.

“They’re quite tight, I’m afraid.”

“Seem to be. How about your hands?”

Agamemnon flexed his wrists again and felt the knots cut deeper into his wrists. More blood pooled and then dripped off him. “The same,” he said.

“Damn.”

Eduardo kept looking at the pit beneath them. “How long do you think we have before they lower us all the way into the pit?”

“We’re descending at a slight pace.” Agamemnon looked at the chieftain. He seemed unhurried. “I’d guess he still has some work to do to get his followers riled up to the point that this thing climaxes.”

“I give us ten minutes,” the sniper said.

“Agreed,” Agamemnon said.

Eduardo struggled again with his knots. The more he exerted himself, the weaker he looked. Agamemnon could see the fear in his eyes. “Calm down.” he advised.

Eduardo looked at him. “How can you say that?”

“Because fear paralyzes you. If you can reason things out, then there’s always a chance something good will come of it.”

“What happens when we get into that pit?”

“I have no idea.”

Eduardo glanced back down. “The fire doesn’t let me see anything.”

“All I see is darkness,” the sniper said.

“Perhaps that is deliberate on their part,” Agamemnon said.

Eduardo frowned. “Why would they do that?”

Agamemnon looked around the cavern. The walls were streaked with red. It looked like blood. He could make out a series of paintings on the far side of the cavern, but smoke from the bonfire obscured his vision.

“Do you see those?” he asked.

“What?” Eduardo strained to look.

“The paintings over there. I can’t make out what they depict.”

Eduardo turned himself around and tried to right himself to get a better look. After a moment he collapsed and swung on the creaking rope. “I can’t see them any better.”

“I can.”

Agamemnon looked at the sniper. “You can see them?”

“Yep.”

“So, what are they?”

The sniper looked at them both and a slow smile spread across his face. “You sure you want me to tell you?”

“Yes,” Eduardo said.

“It’ll ruin the surprise,” the sniper said.

Agamemnon frowned. “Just tell us.”

The sniper nodded. “They show some kind of giant creature. It’s eating the people who get dropped into the pit.”

“Creature?”

“I can’t figure out what it is,” the sniper said. “But I think it’s a pretty safe assumption that we’re on the menu for dinner tonight.”

“That painting could be hundreds of years old,” Agamemnon said. “There’s no reason to believe that such a creature exists.”

But, as if in response, a sound emanated from the pit below them. Agamemnon heard what sounded like a low, grumbling roar.

He felt himself being lowered closer to the pit.