“I’ll arrange it,” McHenry said. “I want the three of you supervising – make sure we take everything that’s even remotely important.”
McHenry turned to Diggs. “Organize two groups, one for the library, and one for the vault. We need to pack and move everything we can fit onboard.”
McHenry looked back to Daniel. “I hope you’re right.”
Daniel nodded. “Me too.”
11
Thursday, 4 June (10:40 p.m. CST – Baton Rouge)
Will watched in disgust as Lenny grabbed the ankles of Adler’s naked corpse and turned it so that it lined up with the creases in the plastic sheet. The blood that had pooled behind Adler’s head smeared into a wide half-circle, and was already starting to coagulate.
Although the man deserved what he got, Will would’ve stopped the assassination if he could have. But there was no way – there had been no warning. He wondered whether the same could have happened to him. He recalled when he’d been shot at during his last conscious moments inside the Red Box. The moment the man pulled the trigger it was as if time had stopped. The bullet, although on target, hadn’t gotten to him. And the shooter had been eliminated. But now, even with confidence in his own safety, his nerves tingled. He was aware of every movement.
With Lenny cutting away in the background, Cho explained his take on Will’s situation. “As you can see, you have little choice,” Cho said. “One of your investigator friends is in danger at this very moment. It only takes one phone call from me and she will be killed.”
Will thought about killing the man on the spot – all of them at that very instant. There would be no phone call.
He found it was strange how the same people kept showing up – particularly Roy. He’d had a strange feeling about the man when they’d met in Chicago. And he recognized Lenny from the Red Box. How could that animal still be loose? McDougal had shot the thug in a skirmish months ago, and he was supposed to be in police custody. How had he escaped? Maybe it would be best to kill Lenny right now, he thought. Eliminate a killer from the world and cause a diversion at the same time.
“Don’t get any ideas,” Cho warned.
It was as if Cho had read his mind.
“My people are on kill orders,” Cho explained. “If they don’t get a call from me, they carry them out within 24 hours. I have to reset it every day. In fact, it’s time right now.”
Cho pulled out his phone and pushed a button, and the ringing on the other side was loud enough to hear from a distance. After two rings, someone picked up and grunted something he didn’t understand. Cho said something in Chinese, they went back and forth a few times, and Cho ended the call.
“Your lady-friend is working late in her office,” Cho said. “She’ll be safe for 24 hours.”
Cho was an idiot. Will could kill him in an instant, scramble his brains like eggs in a blender. Twenty-four hours was more than enough time to kill them all, get to Chicago, and warn Denise and Jonathan.
He was tempted, but then they’d be right back where they started, no closer to exterminating Syncorp and the Red Wraith project. They’d just scurry away like cockroaches and set up camp somewhere else. Then he’d have to find them again, and more people would die in the meantime.
He glanced over to Lenny, who had removed Adler’s right arm and slapped it down on a clean part of the plastic sheet. It sounded like a butcher dropping a slab of meat onto a piece of wax paper. The man was a butcher, Will thought. Killing him again entered his thoughts, but he figured Syncorp had 100 more just like him operating around the world. They’d just replace Lenny with someone else.
The echoes of clacking heels turned Will’s attention to two men descending the ramp that led to the next floor of the parking facility. They were Cho’s men – Asians with slicked back hair and wearing dark suits.
“These men will escort you to your transportation,” Cho said.
One of the men opened his coat, revealing a gun.
Will held back a smile. It was a reaction he thought to be strange, although he understood why he had it. He had no fear of these people.
“I regret that I must leave you now. I have other business to attend to. But you’ll see me again soon,” Cho said with a smug grin and then nodded to the men.
They grabbed Will’s arms and led him up the ramp to the third floor of the parking garage, and then up a dim stairwell and onto the roof. His eyes adjusted to the darkness, and the silhouette of a helicopter came into view against the lights of the city.
In front of the chopper was the shadow of a man with the glowing tip of a burning cigarette near his face. The cigarette brightened for a second, and then arced into the air and landed on the roof in a hail of sparks. The man climbed into the pilot’s seat and said something to the co-pilot as he slammed the door. The engine started a moment later.
The man on Will’s right trained his gun on him while the other retrieved a pair of handcuffs from his coat pocket. The man with the gun prodded Will to turn around as the second pulled his arms behind his back and ratcheted the cuffs around his wrists. It wasn’t going to be a comfortable flight. They led him into the passenger cabin, closed the doors, and strapped him in. One man sat directly across from him and the other on his right.
The memory of the last time he rode in a helicopter came to mind. He’d been in handcuffs that time as well, but it had been so cold that he’d thought he was going to die. It was the trip from Marion prison in Illinois to the Red Box in Detroit. It was late December. He still didn’t know how he’d survived the ordeal, from that first freezing helicopter trip to the final explosion nearly forty days later that ended the Red Box.
The helicopter engines revved, and the craft lifted from the roof of the parking garage and headed northeast. They approached downtown Baton Rouge, and passed over the capitol building. Ten minutes later they landed next to a hangar at the Baton Rouge airport. The men led him out to the tarmac where they stood while one of them went inside the hangar.
A minute later, the hangar’s large, sliding doors squealed opened and the man emerged. Three new Asian men followed him and met up with the group. There was a short conversation, and then two men grabbed Will by his cuffed arms and led him into the hangar, where others were loading supplies onto a small jet. They dragged him up a ramp and into a lush passenger cabin, furnished like an airport lounge with leather seating and low tables. They directed him to a seat and then occupied the seats around him. His escort detail had grown from 2 to 7.
Fifteen minutes later they were in the air and heading south.
CHAPTER XIII
1
Tuesday, 9 June (7:51 a.m. EST – Mar del Plata, Argentina)
Will’s captors fed him on the second leg of the trip, from Houston to Guatemala, and he’d slept most of the way from Guatemala City to Buenos Aires. From there it was a four hour ride in the trunk of a car to the port city of Mar del Plata, where they’d kept him in a safe house for two days. During that time he’d seen at least 20 people pass through; it seemed that Chinese intelligence was extremely active in the area. The next leg of the trip was a long, chilly ride in a motorboat to a Chinese frigate.
His nerves were set on edge once the ship set out to sea and land was out of sight. He’d never liked the idea of being at the mercy of a boat. It was odd since he’d never feared flying, where a minor mechanical failure could be catastrophic. At least a boat would still float if the motor died. The constant rolling of the frigate caused him no seasickness – the Red Box had prepared him for such conditions. His land-legged escorts, however, were as green as avocados within hours.
Although the sun was low in the sky during the short daylight hours, he could tell they were heading generally south. It was clear he wasn’t being taken to China.
His captors took off his handcuffs, and he was free to move about. It didn’t matter – he wasn’t going anywhere. Anyone who set foot onto the deck was immediately soaked with a freezing ocean spray. Ice had formed on ever
y external surface, making it treacherous as well.
It had occurred to him that he might have made a critical mistake. He’d gambled that they’d bring him right to the heart of Red Wraith – to the people. If he got the opportunity to chop the head off the beast, he’d do so without hesitation. But he needed to keep his confidence in check. He wasn’t invincible. He had to keep his body healthy. That’s why being on the ship made him nervous. If something happened to the ship, or if he were thrown overboard, there would be nothing he could do. His body would die.
He didn’t fear pain or death, but he was mortified by the idea of consciousness without influence. He’d seen the soul of a dead man once – a Red Box inmate who’d died a few rooms over. Will had separated and witnessed the hideous thing search about and flail in rage. That wraith had gone away – Will didn’t know to where – but he was sure that souls hung around after their bodies died.
After many hours on the water, he stood and stretched his legs. He looked through a forward-facing window and saw their destination. The silhouette of an aircraft carrier loomed on the southeastern horizon. It was like a hazy, gray mountain that blended with the sea and overcast sky. He shuddered. Did they have a torture facility on the ship? He knew that the Chinese navy only had a few carriers, most of which were retired vessels from other countries. Devoting one of them to such a venture was a significant commitment.
As they got closer, a helicopter lifted from the deck of the carrier and headed their way. His captors then marched him through the cold wind on the frigate’s deck and loaded him into a large metal container. Two of the guards joined him.
As the door slammed shut, the helicopter approached and a loud metallic clank indicated that something latched onto the roof. The men sat down on the floor and directed Will to do the same. The box creaked and swayed as it was hoisted from the surface of the frigate, and wind noise picked up quickly. A few minutes later they landed heavily and someone climbed on to the roof of the box and released the latch. The sound of the helicopter faded.
The door opened and Will was face-to-face with one of the Chinese crew. Six others stood behind him. They took him into the bowels of the ship and delivered him to a large room. Chinese military personnel, and a few others in plain clothes whose faces he couldn’t see, surrounded a rectangular table.
Cho was at the head of the table. “Welcome, Mr. Thompson,” he said. “I hope you had a comfortable journey. I’m sorry I couldn’t join you. I was busy getting a crash course from our intelligence service on recent events.”
Will didn’t respond.
“I suppose you are wondering why you are here,” Cho said.
“He already knows,” a man said. The man had his back to him.
“Where are we, Roy?” Will asked, recognizing the voice.
“The Southern Sea, just off the coast of western Antarctica,” Roy replied, and swiveled his chair to face him.
“Please, sit down,” Cho said and pointed to a chair.
Will sat directly opposite Cho. Roy and his FBI accomplice, Natalie Tate, were to Cho’s left. The others, including two Asian women, filled the rest of the seats for a total of eight in addition to Will.
“Let’s hear it,” Will said. “You’ve taken some risks – especially you, Roy. They paying you well?”
Roy’s face flushed.
“Mr. Thompson,” Cho broke in, “this transcends espionage and geopolitical skirmishing.”
“This should be good,” Will huffed. He wondered what kind of bullshit the man was going to feed him.
Cho started by describing a mysterious object protruding from the seafloor.
2
Tuesday, 9 June (8:12 a.m. EST – Weddell Sea, Antarctic Circle)
Daniel sat alone at a table in the mess hall of the USS Stennis. The comforting aromas of bacon and maple syrup filled the air. He sipped orange juice as he thought about their abrupt departure from the base. He worried that they’d overlooked something – he didn’t want to leave anything that might be of use to the Chinese.
Captain McHenry had explained there were no unnatural features on the surface that would reveal the base – only the lake might draw attention. There was also a chance that the Russian and Chinese forces would cross each other and interfere with their respective searches. However, if they were persistent enough, it was only a matter of time before they found the base.
It took the North Dakota less than four days to navigate the return through the tunnel, and they were back on the carrier 12 hours later, along with everything they’d taken from the base. He and Sylvia were given quarters close to the room where the artifacts from the base had been stored. Horace was placed closer to the medical facilities, as he’d come down with something that took hold on the return trip. The man looked as if death could take him at any time, although that wasn’t very different from the way he looked when he was feeling well.
Daniel didn’t know exactly what to do next, but he knew they had to get William Thompson onto the ship. If anything, it would keep him from falling into the wrong hands. It made him think of Jonathan and Denise. They were in danger, too. Since they were experts on the Red Wraith project, he’d request that they be collected along with Thompson.
Daniel was surprised that the Red Wraith project leaders had missed the true purpose of Red Falcon from the beginning. He was also astonished at how the Nazis had been able to keep so many secrets – the whereabouts of Dr. Mengele, the successful transport of Hitler’s ashes, the base, and, most importantly, the beacon. The world would have been a better place had those secrets died with them. Instead, just enough information had been discovered in Germany after the war to entice the Americans to create Red Wraith. They’d plugged forward without knowing the true purpose of what they were doing, nor the consequences.
He shook his head and sighed. He and the others in his group were no better: they were pressing forward without knowing where they were going. There were still many unanswered questions, such as what was the purpose of the beacon? The Nazis thought it was a source of power to help them to conquer the world. There was no evidence for or against that. The two innermost rings of the White Stone had not yet been deciphered, and the information the Nazis had obtained revealed nothing regarding its purpose or function.
Someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around to see an older man who was in his early fifties, wearing a khaki Navy uniform and a blue baseball-style hat with “USS Stennis” written on the front in gold letters.
“Mr. Parsons,” the man said. His face was friendly, but serious. “I’m Grimes, the captain of this ship.”
Daniel stood and shook the man’s hand.
“You wanted to talk,” Grimes said.
“Yes, sir, thanks for meeting me,” Daniel responded. “I’m not sure how much you know about what’s going on with the base and the beacon.”
“McHenry briefed me,” Grimes said, “and I got more detailed information from Naval Command. The information came from your director.”
“Then you understand why I’ve requested to have a man brought to your ship.”
Grimes nodded.
“There are two others who should be brought here as well: Jonathan McDougal and Denise Walker. They’re experts on the Red Wraith project, and have dealt with William Thompson directly,” Daniel explained. “They’re also in danger.”
“I’ll send a request to Naval Command,” Grimes said and started to walk.
“One more thing.”
Grimes stopped and turned back to face Daniel.
“Tell them to find McDougal first,” Daniel explained. “He’ll know how to find Thompson.”
Grimes nodded and went on his way, leaving Daniel to his thoughts. The next question was what were they going to do with Thompson once they got him on the ship. Should they take him to the beacon? He figured they’d have to. Someone would eventually get to it with a person who could penetrate its walls. Even though he didn’t really trust any government with the resp
onsibility of what might be discovered there, he preferred that responsibility not be placed in the hands of the Chinese or the Russians.
Daniel shivered as a chill crawled up his spine. Their competitors were well-informed. They’d been a step ahead the entire way – until the North Dakota stumbled upon the tunnel. It was sheer luck that they were in a controlling position – locating the base and securing the beacon. But there was one more crucial piece to be acquired.
Daniel hoped desperately that William Thompson was still safe.
3
Tuesday, 9 June (8:16 a.m. CST – Chicago)
Jonathan hung up the phone and looked across his desk to Denise who was sitting in a hardwood chair with her legs crossed.
“What’s going on?” she asked, intrigued.
“That was James Thackett, CIA director,” he said.
“Yes?”
“He wants us to contact Will and bring him in,” Jonathan explained.
Denise shifted in her seat and a concerned expression formed on her face. “Will’s in trouble. It’s been days.”
Jonathan nodded. He was more worried than he led on. “There’s more. When we find him, they want us to go with him.”
“Where?”
“Buenos Aires.”
“Oh.”
“Closer to where everything is happening.”
Denise pulled her laptop out of her backpack and turned it on. A minute later she sighed. “Still nothing from Will. What should we do?”
“We get on the first flight to Baton Rouge and find him,” he replied.
“Where do we start?” she asked.
“I don’t know, but waiting here isn’t productive,” he said. “We have phones and computers – we’ll track him down somehow. We may have to get into Syncorp, since that’s where he was going.”
“I’ll book the tickets,” she said and left for her office.
EXOSKELETON II: Tympanum Page 30
