by A. T. Avon
Copyright December 2018 by A.T. Avon
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, businesses, locations and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner.
Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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Table of Contents
Prologue
Part 1
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Part 2
Report of the Chief Inspector of Marine Accidents
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Part 3
Report of the Chief Inspector of Marine Accidents
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Joint FBI-CIA Intelligence Report
Prologue
I am writing this in the dark. I have no idea if anyone will be able to read it but someone needs to put down what happened here. This was NOT any kind of malfunction. This was not the CARRICK. From the very beginning, this was a virus.
Michael Bowerman, Chief Petty Officer
Marine Accident Investigation Branch
5/7 Brunswick Place SOUTHAMPTON
LONDON
The Right Honourable James O’Connor OBE MP Secretary of State for Transport
Sir,
In pursuance of regulations, I submit my Report following the Inspector’s Inquiry into the loss of the submarine HMS CARRICK.
I wish to place on record concern at the lack of co-operation extended to the Inspectors in this Inquiry, whose best efforts were hampered by sustained and deliberate obfuscation.
I am, Sir,
Your obedient servant
Captain S K Hitchin, Chief Inspector of Marine Accidents
Report of the Chief Inspector of Marine Accidents into the loss of HMS CARRICK on 21 October 1993.
Particulars of HMS CARRICK and Crew
Type: Trafalgar Class attack submarine, commissioned 1989
Length: 82 meters (270 feet)
Breadth, including the planes: 9 meters (30 feet)
Depth, fin (conning tower) to keel: 15 meters (50 feet)
Propulsion: Nuclear steam turbines, single nozzle impeller
Steering: Twin tiered single plate rudders
Crew: 120 officers and ratings
Part I – Factual Account
All times in GMT.
1.1 The weather was excellent: light variable winds and a calm sea, a clear night with visibility of 7 miles. The sea temperature was 12°C and the air temperature over the water 7°C. No significant tidal stream.
1.2 CARRICK sailed from XXXXX XXXXX to act as a training vessel for a command “Perisher” course, testing students on their suitability for command. Seven students, together with their Commanding Officer, joined CARRICK by boat transfer from XXXXXXX.
1.3 CARRICK proceeded on exercise to a zone between XXXXX and XXXXXXX, with command being given by the Course Commander or “Teacher” to the student. As is customary with the command course’s final sea phase, exercises required students to carry out all the functions of command.
1.4 The first phase of exercises was completed at XX:XX hrs on 21 October, 1993, shortly after which one of the Perisher students took over as Duty Captain. A new exercise commenced at XX:XX hrs, carried out in the XXXXXXX Channel.
1.5 At XX:XX hrs the submarine went to periscope depth in order to observe another vessel, prior to launching a simulated attack. The exercise was declared complete by the “Teacher” just before XX:XX hrs. By this time CARRICK was steadied on a course of at about 6 knots at a submerged depth of 60 meters.
1.6 “Teacher” next instructed the Duty Captain to hold in the general area before briefly leaving the control room to discuss the performance of the Duty Captain in the ward room.
1.7 The remaining student scheduled to be Duty Captain was called for, but did not appear at the control room. Subsequently, at XX:XX hrs, “Teacher” was informed this student had taken ill. At this time, CARRICK was steadied on a course of 305°T. Speed was still at 6 knots and depth still 60 meters.
1.8 This is believed to be the first reported instance of the illness which, over time, caused the loss of CARRICK.
Part 1
Chapter 1
Somewhere in the Gobi
Houellebecq was late to the meeting. He took his seat beside Tang and immediately realized he’d forgotten to make himself coffee.
Too late.
He watched West take a sip from a mug that read “Panic!”, feeling something very close to envy. He needed caffeine for this. He needed vodka for this.
‘So?’ asked West. ‘What’s the decision?’
‘There is no decision to make,’ said Tang dismissively. ‘We torture her until her father agrees to correct the flaws in this facility.’
‘Do we even know there are flaws?’ Houellebecq asked, choosing his words carefully.
Houellebecq had ended up stuck at this table, stuck with these two men, by working his whole life to protect one person – his sister. And he wasn’t going to sit back now and let Tang torture her.
No one answered his question.
‘I’ve done everything you asked,’ he said, shifting tone. ‘I kidnapped my own sister, traipsed her across China, mined her for any knowledge she might have. She didn’t know anything more than we did. She’s researched my father, yes, but she’s not my father. She can’t fix this facility.’ He paused, then had another thought. ‘And anyway, you have my father.’
‘Physically,’ said Tang with a nod. ‘But he’s not helping us. He’s sabotaging everything we’re trying to do and has been since I first recruited you.’
Recruited. That was a joke. Eight years ago, when the Chinese first approached Houellebecq, they had known he was a survivor. They had wanted to use him as a guinea pig. There weren’t too many infected in the world to choose from. He had agreed only on the condition his sister be left out of everything. Later, when the Chinese threatened to kidnap Missy, he had discovered the awful truth of this first compromise. The Chinese could demand anything using the same leverage. They’d placed him inside the U.S. government as a spy. Protecting his sister had cost him his future, his soul.
But that was all the more reason not to cave in now.
‘I dragged her across China like you asked. What did we learn from her that we didn’t already know? Nothing.’ He threaded his fingers on the table, trying to keep anger out of his voice. ‘She understands less about all this than we do, Tang.’
‘She found the journal,’ said West. ‘She found the mutant girl. How did she do that?’
Houellebecq sighed.
West. It always came back to West. Technically, West was Houellebecq’s subordinate. In reality, he was something more like a suicide vest. It was the Chinese who had planted West, a British ex-soldier with a questionable service record, beside Houellebecq. If Houellebecq strayed from his Chinese keepers, West would kill him. Houellebecq was under no illusi
ons on this point. West was a psychopath.
He decided to try honesty. ‘Look, let me simplify this for both of you. You want to torture my sister, you’ll have to kill me first.’
‘You overestimate your importance,’ said Tang coolly.
‘Do I?’
‘It’s your father who is invaluable, not you, not your sister. You’re both leverage, nothing more.’
Houellebecq felt bitter indignation rise in his throat. He swallowed hard but couldn’t stop himself from saying: ‘She and I… we lived through this, Tang. A long time ago, the two of us, we had no idea what was going on when we got sick. She still has no idea.’
‘Maybe,’ said Tang. ‘Maybe not.’
‘You weren’t in that car.’ Houellebecq took a deep breath, steadying himself, his words. Even now, the memory was painful. ‘You didn’t get gassed by your own father. I did.’ He looked from West to Tang, then back to West. He let his face harden. An unspoken threat. ‘I vowed to protect Missy. Everything I’ve done, it’s been to protect my sister.’
Tang leaned in, smirking now. ‘And yet you can’t even find the courage to tell her who you really are, who you really work for. Are you protecting her, Houellebecq, or are you hiding from her?’
‘We had a deal. I tell her. And I decide when the time is right. Not you.’
‘Before the pandemic.’ Tang waved the deal off like it was nothing more than an annoying insect. Finally, he seemed to make a decision. He said. ‘I’ll give you one last chance, Houellebecq. Speak to your father. Help him see this as it is. If he doesn’t stop stalling and fix this facility, we all die.’
‘You talk to him. I’m done.’
‘You’re being petulant. And irrational. If we fall victim to a zombie horde, he isn’t protecting anyone – least of all you and your sister.’ Tang’s phone obviously vibrated in his pocket, because he shifted and took it out. He checked the screen briefly, then put it back. ‘If you can’t get your father to see sense, we’ll do it our way.’ He stood but paused. ‘But it doesn’t have to be prolonged, nor gruesome, Houellebecq. Don’t make the same mistake you made with your foster-father.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘I heard you – I heard what you said to Missy, in that park back in Chengdu. Don’t hold on too long, Houellebecq. Misplaced loyalty can be costly.’
Houellebecq frowned. He was furious. He had known he was bugged, of course, but to have that conversation with Missy used against him now…? He pictured his foster-father, pale, ill. He had never loved the man, but he had owed him. Houellebecq had been handed over to his foster family after the gassing. His foster father had provided a path through elementary school, then high school. Without that, Houellebecq would’ve been lost.
‘We had a deal, Tang.’
‘Everything’s changed.’ Tang checked his phone again, then walked to the door. Houellebecq thought he was leaving, but instead he opened the door and stood back.
Houellebecq’s father entered, stooped and cuffed.
Chapter 2
Somewhere in the Gobi
Daniel Levine studied the room. He saw his son seated at the table. He saw Tang and West. ‘What’s this then?’ he asked, already able to guess.
‘They’re not messing around, Daniel,’ said Jason.
He nodded, processing the use of his given name. Daniel. His son seemed no more capable of using the word “dad” than Daniel was capable of using the surname Houellebecq. At an objective level, he understood. His memories of Jason’s childhood didn’t match Jason’s own memories of the same era. Jason’s memories would’ve been tenuous. He had been young. Much younger than Missy. Presumably Jason didn’t remember football practice in the front yard, didn’t remember Lego in the bedroom, didn’t remember the wrestling, the laughter, the bedtime stories. All he could remember was 1994, the pipe coming in through the car window.
Daniel took a seat at the table. He held up his cuffed hands. ‘These really necessary?’
He knew they wouldn’t be removed. By changing his mind about telling Missy everything, by staying tight-lipped, he had sealed his fate. Jason was right. Tang wasn’t messing around anymore. The Chinese wanted a cure, an edge.
But how could Daniel tell Missy everything while Tang was listening? There was no way to explain the past to Missy, or even to Houellebecq, without revealing details of the highest national security. Complicating matters even further, Jason had made it clear he wanted his sister kept in the dark as much as possible, protected – or so he reasoned – by her own ignorance.
Daniel didn’t know if he agreed with this, but as he saw it Jason had a right to choose how much Missy was told and when. Jason had paid the price, after all.
‘So how about I guess the purpose of this meeting,’ he said, when no one broke the long silence. ‘If I guess right, cuffs come off. If I guess wrong, cuffs come off anyway. Deal?’
No one said anything.
Daniel continued. ‘I think Jason here is in a tight spot. I think he wants to protect Missy, because that’s what he does.’ He fixed his eyes on Jason. ‘Right, son? That’s what you’ve always done because you believe one small perfectly ordinary American family is more important than the future of our nation as a whole – the one nation that just might liberate the world from this thing.’
West forced a laugh. ‘Spare us the star-spangled shit, will you?’
‘And now I’m being asked to share information with China. I can’t do that. You shouldn’t have done that, either, West.’
Daniel hadn’t criticized Jason directly, but he caught a flash of anger in his son’s eyes. Jason suddenly reached across the table and grabbed the cuffs. He yanked Daniel in, pulling his old, frail wrists so far forward that his forehead almost hit the table’s surface.
‘They’re going to torture her,’ he snarled. ‘You hear me? You understand?’ He was inserting the words directly into Daniel’s ear. ‘They’re going to torture your only daughter, you piece of shit. And only you can stop it. You. Tell them what they want to know.’
Daniel struggled to nod. He looked up, locking eyes with Jason. ‘You think I don’t love her, don’t love you?’
‘Then talk.’ Jason pulled even harder on the cuffs. ‘You’re going to get this facility working so it can be the arc it was built to be. And you’re going to do it starting today.’
Daniel held his son’s gaze. He could see his wife in this face, her exact fear, her exact sense of betrayal.
He couldn’t fix his family, he reminded himself. He couldn’t fix the countless mistakes he had made, the thousands of opportunities he had missed. But it was within his power not to let go of the only thing he had done right in this life, the only thing keeping him sane: his loyalty to the United States of America.
He tried to pull back, but couldn’t. He was too weak. His son, who he had once carried around on his shoulders, was so much stronger.
Stay the course, he reminded himself. Stay strong. He had never let go of his loyalty to his country, even in the darkest hours, even against the incredible pull to do the right thing by his own blood.
‘No,’ he said, through clenched teeth.
‘No? No?’
Tang reached out and put a hand gently down atop Jason’s. Jason glanced sideways at him, then released the cuffs like he was chest passing a basketball, flinging Daniel away.
Jason slumped back down in his chair.
Daniel sat straight again.
‘I’m sorry to say this,’ said Tang finally, ‘but I don’t want there to be any confusion here. I will let entire divisions of soldiers loose on your daughter, Mr Levine. I won’t simply take her fingernails, I’ll take her fingers, her tongue, her ears, her nose.’ His voice was so quiet it was almost a whisper – and perfectly calm despite his words. ‘And all the while, as I do this, I’ll have a team of medics on standby making sure there isn’t the slightest possibility she passes out, let alone dies. She will feel it all. Weeks of it. Months. No man would wish on an ins
ect what I will do to your only daughter.’
Daniel recoiled. Surely it was a bluff.
But he was old. He had been verging on old when he had children, and he had lived a long life. In that time he had observed time and again the many ways in which politics trumped humanity. He knew Tang was desperate. He knew Tang would deliver on his threat. The man had no choice.
Daniel tried not to gulp, tried not to show weakness. He had already failed his family in just about every way a husband and father could. He had made that choice when he left academia, and he had always known it would lead to this moment, this test.
Did he want to be like his son? Lost, serving no one, nothing?
‘No,’ he said again, but his voice was hoarse, a mere croak.
‘Think, dad.’
Dad.
The word hit home.
Daniel glanced at Jason, then studied Tang’s face. He felt a wail rising and exiting his throat almost against his will. He understood the cuffs now, as he lurched forward and attempted to attack Tang, attempted to strangle him with the chain. He had the sensation of being outside his own body, watching a crazed man. But after so long, he had broken. It was too much: both his children here, looking to him for answers, for protection from the coming war…
He tried to stop Tang getting even one more breath of air.
All those years, all those opportunities…
It was too difficult. He couldn’t get a good enough perch from which to strangle Tang with the cuffs, and he could feel Jason and West pulling him clear. Tang was on the ground, on his back, but trying to punch back, trying to kick. Chairs were upturned, the table, too. Guards would be on him soon. And with them came Tasers, and with the Tasers more confusion, and with the confusion, injections. Then sleep.
