There is another "24" style date, time, place and location in this chapter, but I'm ignoring it. Because we know where we are, and it'll be relevant only to Matthew Reilly, who'll forget about them instantly, so he may as well put "Die Antwoord" lyrics up there, for all the sense that they make.
The nine figures raced through the crocodile-infested swamp on foot, moving fast, staying low.
The odds were stacked against them.
Hmm. Crocodiles make things interesting. Also, nine figures is an awful lot to introduce at once.
Their rivals numbered in excess of 200 men.
Fucking Christ! 200 dudes? I demand backstories on all of them! They cannot all be generic minions there to get horribly murdered by the "heroes".
They had only nine.
You just told us that. Also, four word-sentence, so take a shot.
Their rivals had massive logistical and technical support: choppers, floodlights for night work
What else would you use them for? A disco? A midnight rave? To be fair, "Colossus of Rhodes" sounds like a fantastic DJ name...
and boats of every kind-gunboats, houseboats, communication boats, three giant dredging barges
For what?
for the digging-
Ah. Thanks for clearing that up
and that wasn't even mentioning the temporary dam they'd managed to build.
Wait, what? They've built a dam? How long were they here? When did they set up? Is it made of wood? Is it defended? How does one make a "temporary" dam? Are there a few dozen engineers and members of the logistics corps in these 200 men? If so, I wouldn't kill off so many of them, some of these guys sound like prodigies at the very least, and definitely people who simply enjoy their job. I wouldn't just kill them.
The Nine were only carrying what they'd need inside the mine.
I'm glad to hear that. Also, there's a mine here? And why have you capitalised "The Nine"? Are they German? How did they navigate this temporary dam without getting shot? Who thinks this is going to be explained?
And now -the Nine had just discovered- a third force was on its way to the mountain, close behind them, a much larger and nastier force than that of their immediate foes, who were nasty enough.
Show, don't tell. Also, how did they know this? Was it written on this enormous dam? I know he's doing some foreshadowing at some ungodly foe, but can they really be more evil than 200 dudes armed with boats and a logistics corps? This is an awful lot of stuff to chuck on us this early on.
By any reckoning it was a hopelessly lost cause, with enemies in front of them and enemies behind them-
Stuck in the middle with youuuuuu!
but the Nine kept running anyway.
Because they had to.
Take a shot.
They were a last-ditch effort.
Take a shot. Also, show, don't tell.
The last throw of the dice.
We get it, it's desperate. Also, repetition, take a shot.
They were the very last hope of the small group of nations they represented.
That's where the paragraph (and page) ends, on a cliff-hanger, so take a shot. Feeling the tension ratchet up yet? What are these nations? What's going on? I'm guessing the following:
Latvia, Togo, Fiji, Iberia, Wales, The Central African Republic, Bolivia, Madagascar and Lichtenstein, because that would be kind of amusing, and very unexpected.
Their immediate rivals -a coalition of European nations- had found the northern entrance to the mine two days ago and were now well advanced in its tunnel system.
Getting a little ahead of ourselves, aren't we?
A radio transmission that had been intercepted an hour before revealed-
Wait, NOW you tell us? You're content to chuck everything out in one go, but hastily add the fact that they presumably hacked into the radio signal of a 200-strong force, an hour ago apparently, a page later? Fuck you Matthew.
that this pan-European force-
You've told us this.
French troops, German engineers and an Italian project leader-
I KNEW it! And it's always the French...
had just arrived at the final entry trap on their side of the mine. Once they breached that, they would be inside the Grand Cavern itself.
They were progressing quickly.
Which meant that they were also well versed in the difficulties found inside the mine.
Fatal difficulties.
Traps.
Oh Christ. Take three shots: Two for the sentences there, and another for repetition. That is also how it's written. He's given separate lines for the fact that there are traps. Get used to that too, because that's how every major event in this book goes: Outnumbered team go to traps, running, with repeated sentences for urgency, because it's urgent, and they must go quickly, and keep going, fast, with urgency.
But the Europeans' progress hadn't been entirely without loss:
I'd hope not, sending 200 dudes face first into a mine without giving this team of genius engineers and your enormous Navy a chance to look at it first.
three members of their point team had died gruesome deaths in a snare on the first day.
Aww man, that sounds horribly interesting. I wish we could have seen it.
But the leader of the European expedition -a Vatican-based Jesuit priest named Francisco del Piero-
Okay, stop.
Let's examine that phrase, for a moment, because nearly every word of it is magical. Firstly, take a shot for the name "Francisco del Piero", which sounds like the protagonist to a lost Cervantes novel, then consider the fact that the Vatican are the villains here: Leading an army of people into a mine in Sudan, to murder 9 dudes, because Jesuits are still evil, apparently, and operating like a Vatican hit-squad of ninjas.
Dan Brown? Is that you?
had not let their deaths slow him down.
Why would he? He has 200 men and German engineering to help him bury them properly.
Single-minded, unstoppable and completely devoid of sympathy,
Oh I don't know, he's the only named character so far, and the Jesuit Order are actually pretty nice dudes.
del Piero urged his people onward. Considering what was at stake, their deaths were an acceptable loss.
Ooooooo! A mystery!
The Nine kept charging through the swamp on the south side of the mountain, heads bent into the rain, feet pounding through the mud.
Oh, it's raining. Of course it's raining... Everything's more dramatic when it's raining. And Jesuit priests look far more sinister in the rain.
They ran like soldiers -low and fast, with balance and purpose, ducking under branches, hurdling bogs, always staying in single file.
Here it comes. Also, spoiler, two of them are civilians, so that statement is an outright lie. Unless they're just running like that to blend in.
In their hands they held guns:
Beautiful, poetry for the ages.
MP-7s, M-16s, Steyr-AUGs. In their thigh holsters were pistols of every kind.
Take three shots and try not to imagine the massive boner that Matthew Reilly had when writing those words.
On their backs: packs of various sizes, all bristling with ropes, climbing gear and odd-looking steel struts. And above them, soaring gracefully over the treetops, was a small shape, a bird of some sort.
Not only has Matthew Reilly just introduced us to the most human and likeable character in the novel, but he has done so in a way which intends to evoke mystery and dread. What kind of bird is it? Is it a big bird? Is it one of their birds? Is it a wild bird? Who knows! Keep reading to find out!
Seven of the Nine were indeed soldiers.
Ah! Now you've picked up on it.
Crack troops. Special forces. All from different countries.
Four shots. Three for the sentences of four words or less and one for the repetition. Technically he repeated two things (that they are Special forces and that they're all from different countries), so I suppose that's five shots. Well done! If you've been following the drinking game so far, you're now at the correct stage to write this book!
The remaining two members were civilians, the elder of whom was a long-bearded 65 year old professor named Maximilian T. Epper, call-sign: Wizard.
And it is here we come to one of the true joys of Matthew Reilly, after reading his dialogue: Watching him name a human being. Now, technically this one doesn't count, because Max T. Epper is a real person, who won an auction to be placed as a character in one of his books. You can, however, drink twice for "Wizard" and the fact that it is in italics and not feel bad.
Line up those shots.
The seven military members of the team had somewhat fierce nicknames:
We'll be the judge of that.
Huntsman, Witch Doctor, Archer, Bloody Mary, Saladin, Matador and Gunman.
Gunman. Really? That's got to be the laziest army codename ever. Are his buddies back home called "Uniform" and "Soldier"? It's like calling your dog "Thing that Woofs", or your house "Building". You can probably guess where most of these guys are from, based solely on their bland codenames (Matador being what Hollywood nickname every Spaniard ever). Guess which one's Arabic and which one is the black guy. Correct answers win admittance to Matthew Reilley's School of Racial Profiling.
Oddly, however, on this mission they had all acquired new call signs:
Oh here we go.
Line up those shot glasses again. He clearly realised his mistake and tried to correct it by making them adorable, but... well, you'll see.
Woodsman, Fuzzy, Stretch, Princess Zoe, Pooh Bear, Noddy and Big Ears.
These revised call-signs were the result of the ninth member of the team:
A little girl of ten.
Gah! So many shots!
In case you're wondering, yes, this team of retards really do go through the rest of the book with those code names, and they wear them with pride. If I turned up to some international mission to save the world and was told that some little girl wanted to call me "Big Ears", I'd fucking leave. Fuck the planet, it's not worth it if the entire world has to know that it was saved by Noddy and fucking Big Ears. Except Pooh Bear. That shit would bring dread into the hearts of all opponents. Think about it: You're being attacked by a man with the balls to go into the field not only as a children's character, but a children's character known for being the master of Zen. How would you stop that?
Also, was "Woodsman" the best she (And Matthew) could do? The rest are all kind of explained, but Woodsman?
A little girl.
If we were playing "Matthew Reilly Bingo", we'd be near to a full house and we're only two chapters in: We have a kid sidekick and an animal sidekick. Hands up if you think that the little girl is going to be tolerable. Now put your hands down if you've never read a Matthew Reilly novel.
This chapter is where it really starts to go downhill, as Matthew Reilly hits the stuff he really enjoys doing. I warn you now, the next one will be little more than historic exposition, which I will try to make entertaining, but in the interim, stew in the dangerous amounts of alcohol you have consumed and try to imagine any feasible scenario where the world is saved by Noddy, Pooh Bear and Big Ears.
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