EXOSKELETON II: Tympanum

by Shane Stadler

  The engine sputtered and a violent metallic grinding sound emanated from its innards. Two of the engineers rushed to the now squealing engine and then screamed at the men at the control panel, who frantically adjusted knobs and levers and finally turned off the engine.

  Will turned to the other engines and performed the same operation, and did the same to the one that was undergoing repairs. After a horrid stretch of screeching and grinding that lasted about 30 seconds, all of the engines were dead. It was time for the next phase.

  He located the fuel lines of the engines and tore them out, spewing diesel fuel over the floor of the engine room. He tracked the lines to a valve manifold, and then followed the main fuel line to a colossal fuel tank deep in the belly of the ship. He ripped out the main fuel supply flange from the tank. Diesel spewed out like water from a fire hydrant, quickly flooding the large room. He opened the door to the corridor, giving the rushing fuel a place to spread.

  The same as with the jet fuel, he’d need something to ignite it. He looked around, but found nothing. Then it occurred to him that he’d done it before – burned something while in the separated state. The first time had been the flies in the Red Box. Just minutes later, he’d burned thousands of attacking hornets. The third time, a man had been aiming a gun at him. Will had melted the gun in the man’s hands, and then incinerated him.

  He focused on a steel beam on the ceiling above the center of pooling fuel. He concentrated and summoned the anger he’d had while burning the man in the Red Box. He thought of the thug that had killed Adler in the parking garage, and how he’d dismembered the body with an electric knife. These people had no regard for life. The pipe glowed red, then orange, and then almost white before orange-white droplets fell into the diesel fuel. The first few just fizzled out, but then a large molten clump fell in and ignited the pool. It quickly spread into the corridor.

  He tore the room’s half-dozen doors from their hinges – the fire would need oxygen. Black smoke billowed out of the room and into the corridor. He followed the corridor back towards his body, destroying every door that could be used to isolate the fire along the way.

  He awakened in his body. The floor rumbled as men ran though the corridor outside, in the direction of the fire. He smiled as he thought about it. He’d single-handedly disabled an aircraft carrier. Every day he gained a better understanding of his powers. There could never be another like him. He wouldn’t allow it to happen.

  12

  Wednesday, 10 June (10:12 a.m. EST)

  “Are you sure it wasn’t attacked?” Daniel asked, staring at the satellite images displayed on a large monitor. Sylvia, Jonathan, and Denise crowded behind him along with a few of the crew.

  “Not by us,” Captain Grimes replied. “It’s dead in the water. Two of their smaller vessels are taking positions as tugboats.”

  “How does this work to our advantage?” Daniel asked.

  “Not clear,” Grimes answered. “It’s a hostage situation, not a naval battle.”

  “Where are the destroyers?” Daniel asked.

  “In position and standing by,” Grimes replied. “If we’re attacked, they’ll counter on the carrier.”

  “Will is on that ship,” Denise said in protest.

  “We’d disable the carrier rather than sink it,” Captain Grimes responded. “But it seems that has already happened.” He shook his head. “I’ve never seen a ship self-destruct like that.”

  Daniel looked to Jonathan, who shrugged and raised an eyebrow. He knew they were thinking the same thing: it was Will. Maybe the Chinese took on more than they could handle.

  “What are our options?” Daniel asked. “The importance of this man is becoming increasingly apparent. For Christ’s sake, he’s an American citizen being held captive on a Chinese ship.”

  Captain Grimes nodded and closed his eyes for a second before responding. “We have the area contained. No vessels or aircraft have tried to enter or leave the area since Thompson was delivered,” he explained. “We have aircraft in the air right now, circling their crippled fleet like buzzards, and another carrier group is on the way.”

  “Have we made any demands?” Jonathan asked.

  “Not yet,” Grimes replied. “We’re getting presidential approval to make the next move.”

  “We don’t have time to wait,” Daniel said.

  “That Chinese carrier group has nukes,” Grimes said. “Time is a problem, but we need to be careful.”

  The mention of nuclear weapons conjured up something in Daniel’s mind: Operation Blackfish. Nuclear devices had been detonated in this precise area in the 1950’s, and now the same was being threatened again. History might be repeating itself.

  “Could a nuke take out the whole carrier group?” Daniel asked.

  Grimes’s expression flashed with annoyance, and then to deeper thought before he responded. “Yes,” he replied. “But that would lead to all-out war.”

  “Suppose the Chinese thought that it was worth all-out war,” Daniel said. “They could destroy all the ships in the area in one shot, load Thompson onto a sub, and go for the beacon.”

  “That would be the biggest gamble I’ve ever heard of,” he said.

  “Yes,” Daniel said. “All or nothing.”

  “There’s no way they’d get Will to cooperate with them,” Denise interjected.

  Jonathan nodded in agreement. “I’d be inclined to let them take him to the beacon. If there was some sort of power associated with it, he’d control it and wouldn’t help the Chinese.”

  Daniel shook his head. “Too risky.”

  Captain Grimes concurred. “I’ve been given orders not to let any foreign vessels near the beacon.”

  A young officer entered to room and spoke. “Sir,” the young man said, “the destroyers reported that the fire on the Chinese carrier is getting out of control. Two new fires have broken out.”

  “Spreading from the fuel reserves below the flight deck?” Grimes asked.

  “No, sir, mid ship and lower decks,” the officer replied. “Isolated from the first.”

  The officer left and Grimes turned to the others. “Unusual to have two isolated fires break out on a ship that’s not being attacked.”

  Daniel had a different impression: the ship was being attacked.

  13

  Wednesday, 10 June (10:32 a.m. EST)

  Will found a secure room and sat on a chair behind a worktable. He thought about what he’d just done as he recovered from the extended separation. He wondered if he’d wake up unexpectedly one day in an insane asylum and realize he was dreaming it all.

  It was time to find Cho, but he didn’t know where to start looking. He was sure Cho was looking for him as well. Will hadn’t killed the guards outside his door when he’d escaped, so he was certain they had reported it as soon as they’d regained consciousness. Now the question was where did they expect him to go? Were there lifeboats on a carrier?

  Flickering lights distracted him from his thoughts. He watched as they dimmed and then went out completely. They must have switched to emergency power, and he wondered if he’d now have to destroy generators or batteries.

  The sound of helicopter blades chopped just above the threshold of background noise and, for one hopeful moment, he thought it might be American. He separated and ascended through two levels to the flight deck. The sky was in twilight, and the only artificial illumination was that of the dim lighting of the jet runway. A helicopter with Chinese markings was about to lift off from a helipad.

  Will passed through its rotating blades and though the armored shell of the cockpit. Two pilots flipped switches, preparing for takeoff.

  He passed into the passenger cabin. Two plain-clothed Chinese men sat on one side, and Natalie Tate and Roy sat on the other. Where in the hell did they think they were going? Will thought to himself. Anger welled up inside him. He couldn’t let them go back to the states and continue their work. They had blood on their hands.

  The helic
opter ascended about 100 feet above the pad and drifted over the water. Will went into cockpit and grabbed the stick. The pilot shouted as he struggled with the controls. Will directed the chopper over the bridge of the carrier and then forced the stick forward. He rode it down until he awoke in his body and sensed the explosion from that vantage point. It was like thunder rumbling above him.

  Killing was becoming easier.

  14

  Wednesday, 10 June (10:40 a.m. EST)

  “What the hell was that?” Captain Grimes exclaimed. There was surprise and fear in his eyes.

  “What?” Daniel asked.

  Grimes pointed to a monitor displaying the live video feed from a camera on one of the destroyers. It was a green-tinted, night-vision video that was mostly saturated – overloaded with light.

  Grimes instructed one of the crew to rewind the video and replay it. It was clear: a helicopter crashed into the bridge of the carrier, producing a brilliant explosion.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it,” Grimes said softly, shaking his head.

  “Perhaps we can offer assistance,” Jonathan suggested. “Time to get in close.”

  “They’d never allow it,” Grimes said.

  “Then how are we going to get Will off of that ship?” Denise asked.

  “What if we sent a helicopter to the carrier?” Daniel asked.

  “They’d shoot it down,” Grimes said.

  “Not an appropriate action for a distressed ship in need of assistance,” Daniel replied.

  “They have other ships,” Grimes replied. “They don’t need our assistance, and wouldn’t accept it if they did.”

  Another explosion lit up the screen.

  Grimes shook his head in disbelief. “We’ll try to radio them.” He walked out.

  Daniel watched the screen as smaller, secondary explosions flared up from the carrier’s bridge. Could one man really cause that much chaos?

  CHAPTER XIV

  1

  Wednesday, 10 June (10:46 a.m. EST – Weddell Sea)

  Will pulled his cap down tight over his face, and went into the corridor. The thick stench of burning fuel burned his nostrils, and he used the smoke as an excuse to cover his face as sailors ran past him in both directions. He fought through strong fumes as he plodded in the direction of the burning bridge, hoping to cross Cho along the way. What he really needed was a satellite phone – something to communicate his location to Denise and Jonathan. He hoped they could help him establish communications with the American ships.

  It had been a mistake to allow Cho to take him. He was now in an impossible position. He had no end game. He could sink their carrier, but he’d be on it when it went down. Even if he were able to sneak away on a life raft, his body wouldn’t survive the cold for long. Even with the ability to separate, it meant death.

  He entered the lower bay area, avoiding people as they scurried about. He picked up his gait to look as if he was scurrying with them, and avoiding the fire that had spread to six or seven of the jets in the center of the bay. He wondered if the missiles under their wings could explode under the heat.

  He crossed the bay, entered a wide hall, and climbed the first set of stairs he found. He searched until he found another flight and climbed them, and then another.

  The bridge was ablaze. Burning electronics, plastic, and fuel produced a toxic concoction of smoke that billowed through the passageways, chasing sailors from the area. He trudged forward as far as he could and peered into one of the rooms, but soon wished he hadn’t: the charred remains of bodies were strewn about. Some were fused with the chairs in which they sat when the helicopter had crashed in on them. What had he done?

  A sharp object poked into his lower back, near his kidney. He turned. A Chinese man in plain clothes stood an arm’s length, covering his face with a cloth with one hand, and pointing a pistol at Will’s abdomen with the other. Cho was 20 feet back, giving the man instructions in Chinese.

  The man tipped the gun, instructing Will to follow Cho, who was now talking on his phone. Will didn’t resist, and followed Cho a long distance away from the fires, ending up in the same ready-room to which he’d been taken when he arrived on the ship. Cho ordered him to sit.

  “The others will be here shortly.” Cho said as he walked to the head of the table and stood. “Who helped you escape – your FBI cohorts? If so, you should know they are both dead.”

  “I already know that,” Will replied.

  “How?”

  “How did they die, or how do I know?”

  Cho looked confused. “How do you know?”

  “I killed them,” Will replied.

  “They were killed in a helicopter crash.”

  Will nodded.

  Cho shook his head in disbelief, as if trying to assess Will’s mental state. The door burst open and two military men entered, both officers.

  “This is Captain Zhang and his political officer, Wu,” Cho explained and then turned to the captain and nodded.

  Zhang, who spoke in nearly-accent-free English, said, “As you can see, Mr. Thompson, we are in a vulnerable position. We have been sabotaged and are in standoff with the American Navy.”

  Will smiled.

  “Perhaps you don’t understand the gravity of the situation,” Zhang said. “It pushes us towards the nuclear option.”

  “Your planes are grounded,” Will said. “You plan to launch a missile?”

  Zhang raised an eyebrow. “From a submarine,” he said.

  “And what will that get you?” Will asked. “All-out nuclear war?”

  Cho grinned. “I doubt it would come to that. Perhaps they would counter, but your country would not attack mainland China.”

  “That’s a big gamble,” Will replied. “For what? To acquire some object at the bottom of the sea? You don’t even know what it is.”

  “We’ll clear the surface ships of your carrier group in one blast,” Cho said with a smug expression. “Then we’ll take out your subs with six of our own – or at least chase them out of the area. We’ll then take you to the beacon.”

  Will smiled and shook his head slowly. “Your plan has some flaws,” he said. “First, your submarines are no match for ours.”

  Cho looked to Captain Zhang, whose face had flushed.

  “That’s what you’ve been told,” Cho said. “Along with many other falsehoods propagated by your government.”

  “And suppose everything works out and you get me on a sub near the beacon,” Will said. “You really think I’ll cooperate?”

  “You’ll be under immense pressure,” Cho said.

  “Really?” Will scoffed. “I don’t think you understand what I’ve been through. There’s nothing – ”

  “We will kill your friends,” Cho said. “And your family.”

  For an instant, Cho’s words put him in a state acute panic. He calmed himself. He understood that he couldn’t protect everyone, but he could stop Cho from killing anyone. It had become a life or death situation.

  “What would happen if you were all dead?” Will asked.

  “Is that a threat?” Cho laughed and looked to Captain Zhang. “What do you think, Captain, are we in danger?”

  The captain replied with a tentative shrug.

  Will was convinced that Cho had no understanding of separation abilities. “You are gravely mistaken on this point,” Will said and extended his arm. “Now give me your phone.”

  Cho stared back blankly before responding. “You’re delusional.”

  Will sat down. “Your phone and your gun, on the table, now,” he commanded.

  Cho pulled out his gun and pointed it at Will’s chest. “You are the one in danger, Mr. Thompson.”

  Will separated, grasped Cho’s gun-wielding arm and snapped it at the mid-forearm with a sound like that of a cracking lobster shell. Cho screamed as the gun fell from his twitching hand, which now hung at an awkward angle. The gun clunked heavily onto the table.

  Will returned to his body, sna
tched the gun, and pointed it at Captain Zhang who had started for his own pistol in the holster on his hip. Cho whimpered as he cradled his broken arm against his chest. Will ordered Captain Zhang to put his gun on the table.

  Zhang capitulated, and Will snatched the weapon and threw it on the floor behind him.

  The third man, Wu, snapped his pistol from the holster, trained it on Will, and started to squeeze the trigger.

  The reaction was automatic. Instantaneously, Will was outside of his body and everything seemed to freeze in time. The next thing he knew he was back in his body, and the man’s head exploded as if a hand grenade detonated inside, spraying blood, brain matter, and skull fragments all over the room.

  Cho screamed.

  Zhang looked confused and slowly wiped the wet debris from his face. His hand seemed to catch on something in the middle of his right cheek. He grasped it between his thumb and forefinger, and gingerly pulled it out and looked at it. An inch-long shard of skull had pierced his face.

  Will was horrified by what had just happened – what he’d just done. He wiped blood and brain matter off of his own face and turned to Cho. “Your phone,” he screamed, holding out his hand.

  Cho seemed to be in shock.

  Will pointed the gun at his head. “Now!”

  Cho, his torso leaning heavily on the table, rolled to one side to access his inner jacket pocket with his good hand. He extracted the phone and threw it onto the table.

  Will picked it up and opened it. The screen lit up and prompted him for the password.

  “Password,” Will said.

  Cho hesitated.

  “Password!” Will yelled, pointing the pistol at his face.

  Cho listed a seven-character password. The question now was whether he could remember the phone numbers.