“I’m not leaving you here. We go together, Sean.”
“Not this time, Schultzie. Just go! I’ll catch up.” Sean paddled three times and then dove into the water headfirst.
He kicked his feet as hard as he could, pulling himself down toward the floor with his hands. He nearly bumped his chin on the bottom but struck the concrete with the heel of his right hand first. His feet kicked harder now. Sean shoved his hands forward, fingers steepled and pressed together in a prayer before each breast stroke.
When he’d gone another three seconds, he stuck one hand down to feel the floor. There it was, the metal grate. His senses were almost useless now. The frigid waters had numbed his fingers. He could only hear sloshing and churning in his ears. And in the darkness he was nearly blind.
Sean worked his way forward, gripping the grate as hard as he could for fear another surge would knock him back again. He felt around with his right hand, patting the surface of the floor, then moving a few inches forward, then patting again. He’d only been under for twenty seconds, but his lungs already begged for air. Holding his breath was not something Sean had mastered, and now it was his sole regret in life.
He refocused, rubbing his hands around on the grate with more vigor now. He felt something different, something smooth. A pang of disappointment struck him. It was the concrete floor surrounding the grate. He thought about going up for air and diving back down, but he couldn’t risk it. He might not get back to this spot again, and if he didn’t there was no telling what could happen.
Sean forced himself to continue. He realized that if he’d found the concrete, while not what he was looking for, it could give him bearings on where he needed to go. He searched the floor again and found the corner of the grate. Perfect.
Sean turned his body, still kicking his feet and clutching the grate with one hand, and pulled himself straight forward toward the center of the metal floor. He ran his fingers along the surface until he felt a gap, then something else. It was the opening where the quartz pillar had been.
He stopped and held tight on the lip of the metal with both hands. Then he waved his fingers back and forth over the area where the top of the pillar should have been. It wasn’t there. How was that possible? Had it been blown out by the waves? Sean doubted it. And if that was the case and the machine was still working, that meant there was no turning it off.
No. He had to believe it was still there, submerged somewhere.
He swallowed. Now his lungs were burning. His entire body was numb. His arms and legs felt like pudding, almost useless against the freezing waters. He gave no thought to hypothermia or dying. There was one thing in his mind: Shut down this machine.
Sean stuck his hand down into the opening and felt nothing but more liquid. He pulled himself closer to the floor until his chest was nearly touching the grate. His fingers grazed something hard down below, then something smooth. The ring.
He wedged his biceps against the opening to keep his body steady and tried to work a fingernail under the ring’s bottom edge to pry it up, but he found it was stuck firm. Something was holding it in place. Was it magnetic?
It didn’t matter what was holding it there. Sean had to get it out of its housing, and he only had another fifteen seconds of air left in his lungs, if that.
He dug at the gold, pulling with every ounce of strength he could muster into his fingers, but it wouldn’t budge.
Sean grimaced. He could feel the force he was exerting starting to tear the fingernail free on his middle finger. His lungs screamed for air. It was all or nothing now. He wasn’t going to go up for air. Too many people would die if he failed.
With a last desperate effort, Sean maneuvered to the right and shoved his left hand down into the hole. Both arms were wedged in tight, almost too tight to fit. He felt the ring with all his fingers now. He closed his eyes and pulled with every ounce of strength he had left, even as his mouth opened and sucked in a gulp of water.
The ring pulled free. Sean felt a surge of relief a split second before the saltwater hit his lungs. Then his body shuddered. His fingers let go of the golden ring. And he floated into unconsciousness.
Tommy never left. Not even when the lights went out or when another surge of water rushed into the room. Sean had been under for too long. Was his friend okay?
Suddenly, the wind calmed. The water didn’t drain from the room, but Tommy sensed that the worst of the storm was over. Had Sean found the ring?
There was no sign of his friend and panic set in. He started to swim toward the spot where he thought Sean might be. Something hit his right hand, and Tommy twisted his fingers to grab it. It was a wrist. Sean’s wrist or one of the mercenaries?
He pulled at it and dragged the body above the surface. He felt the hair and in the dim twilight could make out the outline of Sean’s face. His eyes were closed, and he wasn’t moving.
“Sean?” Tommy shouted.
No response.
“Sean!”
He pulled his friend close, wrapping his forearm around Sean’s chest like he’d seen lifeguards do on television. He kicked his legs, harder and harder, paddling with his free arm to add speed to his desperate rescue.
Tommy dragged his friend through the entrance to the chamber. He reached the stairwell with a last-ditch effort against his burning muscles and the numbness of his skin.
He propped Sean up on the steps a few feet above the water line and smacked his friend’s cheeks. Tommy could barely see anything, but he knew Sean wasn’t breathing.
“Sean! Wake up, buddy!”
Tommy tilted his friend’s head back as best he could and then started chest compressions. He hit the thirtieth compression and then took a breath, pinched Sean’s nose, and ducked his head. Tommy pressed his lips against Sean’s and blew once, twice, three, four times.
No response.
“Come on, buddy!” Tommy yelled.
He started the compressions again. “Stay with me, Sean!”
He hit the thirtieth compression again and breathed into his best friend’s lungs.
Still nothing.
Dear God, Tommy thought.
Tears formed in Tommy’s eyes. It was the only sensation he could feel, a stinging, burning at the corner of his eyes.
He pressed on his friend’s chest, once, twice, three times. “Don’t you die on me Sean Wyatt. Not yet.”
He pushed his lips to Sean’s again and blew. After the fourth breath, Tommy rose up and started to do the compressions again when he felt Sean’s body shudder.
Immediately, Tommy turned his friend’s head to the side as Sean heaved, convulsed, and spit up a gush of water. He coughed, gagged, and vomited more liquid.
Tommy was huddled over Sean, cradling his head. Sean’s coughing fit eased, and he began to shiver. He looked up into Tommy’s eyes and searched him for answers.
The tears rolled down Tommy’s cheeks, mingling with the saltwater and rain. He swallowed, choked, and bit back a wave of emotions.
“Did we stop it?” Sean asked.
Tommy looked around. The water level was no longer rising. In fact, it seemed to be receding, inch by inch. “Yeah. Yeah, I think you got it.”
Sean exhaled and drew in a painful breath. He frowned, a dirty scowl like he’d just been given the most disgusting entrée imaginable. “Did…did you give me mouth to mouth?”
Tommy laughed and wiped the tears from his face out of instinct even though his entire face and body were soaked. “Yeah. And you know, you’re a really good kisser. I see what Adriana sees in you now.”
Sean closed his eyes and forced a laugh, though he stopped shortly after from the pain it bought his chest.
“Hilarious,” Sean said, using a line his friend often used. “You’re hilarious.”
49
Portland, Oregon
Sean watched the television from the comfort of his hospital bed. The news was going wild with the viral video of Adm. Forrest Winters confessing he was the one behind th
e abduction of former president Dawkins. The news anchors were talking about how no one could identify the woman in the video and that authorities were still looking for her. Sean allowed himself a smile. He knew who it was. She was on her way here, to Portland. Her flight would arrive in just over an hour.
The first thing he wanted to do was kiss her, partly due to the relief he felt at Adriana being okay and partly to get rid of the last kiss his lips had endured at the hands of Schultzie.
Special Agent Matthew Petty’s name was all over the headlines, as well. He’d managed to find one of the men involved in the Dawkins kidnapping and forced him to give the president’s exact location. A team was on site within thirty minutes, extracting Dawkins from a cabin about an hour outside of Seattle.
Petty was offered a promotion by Hollis, though he initially thought of turning it down. He was getting close to retirement and taking a new position with more responsibility wasn't what he had in mind. He eventually caved to the notion that the world still needed people with morals to guide the various agencies of the world. So, he took the position and would be moving into his new office in the coming weeks.
The former president watched the news report from a chair in the corner of the room. Going to check on his friend Sean had been an order no one was going to challenge, despite the president’s doctors urging Dawkins to at least go through a quick physical evaluation.
The president told them he was fine and that he could be evaluated once he’d seen the men who’d saved the Oregon coastline, and perhaps the entire Pacific coast, from devastation.
Emily sat next to him, holding his hand in a vise-like grip. She’d immediately flown to Portland when she received word about Sean.
Tommy was there, too, standing by the window, looking out at the city in the hills, the bridges over the waterways, and the lush green trees that dotted the landscape.
Sean sighed and looked over at Dawkins. “Admiral Winters, huh?” Sean asked. His voice was still weak, and it cracked with each word.
“So it would seem,” Dawkins answered. “I guess he wasn’t too happy with some of my budget moves during the second term. He thought I was crippling our military.” Dawkins shook his head. “I guess he ignored the fact that we had a military surplus during the second half of my stint in office. And that our military remains the most powerful fighting force in the history of humanity. Those types can never have enough.”
Sean nodded absently. “So…he wanted to find this thing and weaponize it, turn it into something the military could use as a defensive force?”
“And offensive.”
Sean rose up slightly and looked over at the president with a questioning glance. “Offensive?”
Dawkins nodded, put his hands on his knees, and stood. He walked over to the open door and eased it shut, then looked at Sean, then Tommy, then Emily with an expression that told everyone in the room he was about to share a deep secret.
He drew in a deep breath, exhaled, and began.
“It was called the Omega Project,” Dawkins said. “Capt. Meriwether Lewis discovered it on his expedition in the early 1800s. He didn’t have a clue what to do with it, but he feared it. He discovered the tablets, the golden ring fragments, and knew that this thing could be a scourge to a new nation. Of course, he had no clue what it could do, just that the warnings were emphatic. Being a superstitious sort, he heeded the caution given by the tablets and set out to hide the ring fragments until the day technology could harness what power was at work there.”
“And didn’t tell Jefferson what he found,” Tommy added.
“Correct. He wasn’t sure what the president would do, so he kept his reports secret until James Madison entered the office. Even then, Lewis didn’t give away everything, instead warning Madison of the grave danger that existed at the mouth of the Columbia.”
Dawkins took a step closer to Sean’s bed.
“You knew all this?” Sean asked.
“No,” Dawkins shook his head. “I knew some of it. Every president since Madison has known of the Omega Project. Madison built the fort there. Then it was improved, reinforced through the years. Then after World War II, we sealed it and closed the fort. The leaders of the time figured the best way to keep the Omega machine safe from the world was to let people forget about it, to ignore it, and to set up a state park there so that whatever power was there would be hidden in plain sight.
“Sounds like a big gamble,” Tommy said.
“It was. And it likely would have paid off if not for the fact that Admiral Winters stumbled on the Madison letter. That letter was intended to be passed down from one president to the next, never seen by any eyes other than whoever held the Oval Office.”
“How’d Winters manage that?” Sean creaked.
“That, my friend, is something I’ve put my best people on. We’ll figure it out.”
“Aren’t we your best people?” Tommy asked with a wink.
Emily stood up. “You definitely are.”
She looped her arm around Dawkins’s waist and pulled him tight. “And I will never be able to thank you enough.”
Sean grinned at her. “You helped, you know. You got us out of Montana.”
Dawkins turned and looked at her with a suspicious stare. “You aided and abetted a fugitive?”
Her cheeks reddened. “Maybe.”
Dawkins’s lips curled into a broad smile. “I’m dating a criminal.” Beaming with pride, he looked at the other two. “That’s pretty cool.”
“Well, you are a politician,” Tommy quipped. “So, maybe you both are?”
The room burst with laughter. Sean’s was quickly replaced with a fit of coughing. When the laughing died down again, a new silence filled the space. It was the quiet of contemplation, of satisfaction, and of wonder as to what would come next.
“The Omega Project,” Sean said. “Fascinating.” He knew that there was one more thing he needed to do as soon as he was out of the hospital. He glanced at the rucksack sitting on the floor in the far corner. Before the ambulance arrived, he’d asked Tommy to take one of the pieces of the golden ring and stuff it in a pouch. There was a hardware store owner in Montana who deserved to keep it. On top of that, the government would likely never find it. A few men in black suits had come by earlier and asked him about it, but Sean blew it off. He wasn’t a dishonest person, in fact he always tried to tell the truth. He’d once heard a quote from Mark Twain about that, something along the lines of “if you always tell the truth, you never have to remember anything.” He wasn’t sure if that was the exact line, but it had guided him most of his adult life. In this instance, however, he definitely misled the guys in suits. “The ring broke apart,” he’d said. “The third piece must have fallen into the ocean.” All the while, the chunk of precious metal was in his gear bag, not ten feet away from them.
“Yes,” Dawkins agreed with a nod. “Our research teams are unearthing the machine as we speak, though most of their work so far is in draining the site. Most of the sea water receded, but there are still some spots in the fort that are flooded, and that device is not limited to the room you found. It takes up nearly a full acre of underground coastline.”
“Hard to believe that thing was brought over here on boats,” Sean said.
“Indeed. And that is, in itself, a tribute to how desperate the Japanese were to get rid of it. They must have known its power, its capability. Why they set it up here, we may never know. I’d have thought they would have kept it disassembled. I suppose that part of the story will remain a mystery.”
“Maybe we’ll find the answers someday,” Tommy said.
“Perhaps. For now, you two need to get some rest.” He folded his arms and took on the look of a parent. “I’m sure there are plenty more mysteries out there and lots more trouble for the two of you to get into.”
Sean and Tommy shared a brief chuckle.
“Yes, sir,” Sean mumbled. “I’m sure you’re right.”
Thank You
Author’s Notes
Come. Gather ‘round the fire and I’ll share with you the facts vs the fiction of this adventure.
Insert a little laughter here.
Seriously, though, I love this part of a story because I know I always enjoy reading this kind of thing from other authors. I’ve been told by many readers that they feel the same. So, I try to give some insight into the stories realities and the parts that are fiction.
Fiction-
The ring that was discovered in three fragments is something I concocted, though the science behind some of its properties is very real. As to it being a key to a cataclysm engine, who knows? Could a device like that exist and have been the downfall of an ancient civilization or was it just bad luck and Atlantis was wiped from the map via natural disaster? Of course, to consider that question in that specific context, you would have to assume Atlantis was real. That is something that we must leave to speculation.
However, during my studies I have discovered some interesting technology from the ancient world and I believe it is entirely possible that some of the kingdoms and empires of the past could have been working on a devastating weapon such as the one in this tale. Armies and naval powers have always sought to create such a weapon and control of the seas is another topic that was well-documented in the past, though much of it was based on superstition.
Obviously, the events of this story are a complete figment of my imagination, as are all the characters.
The letter from James Madison is also fiction, though it’s possible something like that did exist. The subsequent clues were also made up on my part.
Locations-
All of the locations in this story are real and I was lucky enough to be able to visit most of them in the summer of 2018 when my wife, my daughter, and I drove out west for my wife’s 40th birthday.
It was an amazing journey and I highly recommend much of it to those who love to travel. There was also a lot of vast nothingness, but the destinations were worth it.
The Omega Project Page 39
