by Joshua Grant
Ah hell. Julian slammed his foot into the boot. To hell with this ghost and goblins crap. He had a job to do, one last job before he could get Ricardo and retire someplace nice. There wasn’t any room for distractions, and Marcus’ doomsday talk certainly qualified. Get in. Get out. Get Ricardo. Simple as that.
Chapter 3
Conference Chamber
Aubrey surveyed the conference room. Far too fancy for the crappy harbor building that housed it. Carver gave her a few hours to catch some rest before he sent his goons for her. Naturally, they brought her here, Pier 19, just another of Carver’s missteps in attempting to make her feel that this wasn’t a shady deal.
She sighed and stepped through the double doors. A massive—God, does Carver do anything small—conference table dominated the room’s center. The top of it was completely glass leaving Aubrey to wonder how they got it in here. Knowing Carver and his largess, they probably built the building around it.
This was surrounded by a dozen high backed rolling chairs, most of which were occupied. Some of the room’s denizens stood impatiently. All of them sized her up. She, in turn, scanned over each of them.
Carver, predictably, gathered up the best talent the criminal underworld and the world’s police forces alike had to offer. The result was a real tough group of badasses. Aubrey resisted the urge to ask if she’d stumbled into the wrong mission briefing. Flexing a bit of forethought, Carver had provided her with a dossier about each of them so she could be more comfortable with the team. Looking at them now, it probably should have just said, “Run, Aubrey, run!”
Sitting all too calmly at the head of the massive table was Captain Konesco. The lean man was originally born in the Ukraine, but through his travels with some less than legitimate businesses, had gradually lost that accent. Scotland Yard eventually nabbed him and he had been working with Carver ever since. Perhaps the United Kingdom rubbed off on him since he looked and sounded like a young Sean Bean. Hopefully he doesn’t die as badly.
Going round the table, Sasha and Olga Pachenko were chatting quietly near the far wall of the room. Aubrey didn’t have to read their dossier to guess where the married couple was from. They followed the age-old mantra of those who kill together stay together. Her specialty was communications and his was blowing crap up, with the occasional keeping crap from being blown up thrown in there for good measure. They had originally been linked up with the Chechnyan rebels but had retired after the birth of their first child. Now they worked for Carver. Better pay and insurance policy, though the hours still sucked.
Continuing her trip though kick-ass mercenary lane, Harry Murdow and Tom Sharp sat towards the end of the table. Sitting together like that, the two men could have been the real life Mario Brothers, well if you lopped off Tom’s lumberjack beard that is. They were decent men, begging the question, “what were they doing with this cutthroat lot?” Harry worked for NYPD’s bomb disposal unit and SWAT for several years. Tom was a firefighter before he took up a degree in engineering. The two men nodded politely to her.
“So they say you’re our doctor.” The half question, half statement came from B Squad’s Jack Donner. Anyone who met him knew he was a total prick but as far as piloting went, you couldn’t find a better hotshot.
“So they say,” Aubrey replied, a little too quietly for her tastes. She tried to discreetly clear her throat and square her shoulders. No one gained the ram’s respect by tiptoeing around it. You had to hit it head on, force for force.
A thin smile crept over Jack’s pale face. “Well doc, you’re welcome to give me a physical at any time.” He turned his head and coughed. Cute.
Aubrey waited for the rescue from the other members of the team but it didn’t come. This wasn’t a strictly disciplined military unit or police brigade. These were mercenaries. She would have to be every bit as tough as them if she hoped to get through this mission without their constant ribbing or Jack’s repulsive advances.
She smiled sweetly at him and gestured for him to lean closer. He smiled through his teeth, smoothing a piece of chewing gum over with his tongue as he leaned expectantly. “You see,” Aubrey whispered loud enough so everyone could hear, “I deal mostly with microbiology and my problem is I don’t have a microscope powerful enough to work with something so small.”
Several snickers erupted around the room. Even jerky Jack snorted his approval. Well Aubrey, looks like you survived so far. Here’s to hoping you didn’t just make your first enemy.
“You know for being such a great pilot, you always seem to get shot down by the ladies,” the unfortunately named Mackenzie Rivan jabbed from across the table. Most people just called him Mac. The scrawny man paced nervously by his chair. A variable genius with electronics, the man was a bit twitchy when it came to conversation. It was a fact he tried to cover with bad humor.
“Shut up Mac,” Jack countered bluntly before skulking back to his seat.
Looking around, Aubrey could see that someone was missing. “Where’s Julian Eduardo?” she asked as casually as she could. The gunman from El Salvador was nowhere to be found.
“Looks like the resident hero is late,” Mac quipped.
Harry knit his dark brows together. “That’s not like Julian.”
Mac waved it off. “Oh he’s probably just freshening up. I mean,” he shot Jack a knifing stare, “he might actually have a chance at getting an appointment with the good doctor.” Jack flashed him the bird but that didn’t seem to faze Mac. The guy probably saw the gesture far too often. “The man’s a knight in shining armor. He’s saved my ass before.”
“Make that a baker’s dozen and you’re in the ballpark.” Heads swiveled as Julian walked hurriedly into the room.
Maybe it was because he was late, but Aubrey couldn’t help but notice he seemed a bit frazzled. Maybe even concerned. Carver’s paranoid words flashed back into her mind. Perhaps the old cook wasn’t so crazy after all. Enough Aubrey. Corporate betrayals aren’t your area of expertise.
“Excellent, now that Julian decided to put on a watch, we can finally get started,” Captain Konesco said coolly. Julian winced and sank into a chair, any trace of his previous unease erased under a carefully practiced professional mask. The others gathered around the table.
“Olga?” the captain gestured.
“Before she went dark, we only intercepted one transmission from the Emerald Rose.” The dark haired woman tapped the glass conference table. Immediately, garbled static erupted from unseen speakers. Everyone craned their head, listening as the static crawled over the silence of the room. Aubrey stared at the blank table, trying to pick through the turbulent sound and discern anything useful.
Static…
…static…
“…Pandor…Pandora…Pandora.” The half choked whisper practically made Aubrey jump. The author of the voice, a young woman, sounded desperate and terrified. The static seemed to drone for minutes. Then just as swiftly but infinitely more clearly the woman choked out the message again, “Pandora.” The static spiraled into a deafening roar and abruptly cut off.
A heavy silence poured into the vacuum left in its wake.
Naturally, Mac was the one to break it. “Pandora. Isn’t that the international code word for ‘pirates have taken over our cruise ship. Can you please send a dashing young electrician to save us?’”
Aubrey practically heard the eyes in the room roll. Olga stepped in before Jack could flash another gesture. “That was the last thing anyone heard from the people aboard the Emerald Rose. We don’t know who the speaker is, if they’re a member of the crew or a passenger, or if they’re still alive. The Emerald Rose has not responded to our hales. Their equipment could be damaged.”
“More likely the pirates or terrorists have them locked up in a room somewhere,” Harry speculated, one hand smoothing half his mustache over.
“That doesn’t explain why they haven’t posted demands, or how they’ve managed to keep the ship hidden for a week.” All eyes shifted
to Julian. He fidgeted in his chair uncomfortably. “I mean, what pirate group on Earth has the capability to pull off a job like this, let alone do it quietly?”
“Yeah, last I checked, Johnny Depp is still somewhere in the States,” Mac added.
Konesco gave Julian the cool, unreadable stare he employed with everyone. “All valid points. We don’t really know what’s happening aboard that ship, and we won’t know until we go take a look. You’re all professionals who have been trained to deal with a variety of unexpected situations. So let’s set the demon, ghost, and extra-terrestrial theories aside and focus on what we do know.”
He tapped the table top. What Aubrey thought was a glass covering turned out to be a large video screen. Top down images of the Emerald Rose dotted the vast surface. Aubrey could see several pools, basketball courts, and a mini golf course dotting the Lido deck. There was even a small waterpark complete with an array of colorful tube slides. Looked like fun. Jennifer would have loved something like this.
“These are satellite images taken from before the Emerald Rose’s disappearance and this—“ Konesco tapped the table, summoning a series of very different aerial photos, “—is the ship now.”
“What’s left of her,” Tom muttered.
Tufts of black smoke trailed from parts of the ship’s radiant white exterior. There had been fires and possibly fighting or storm damage. A piece of the waterslide had collapsed into the glass atrium below. Deck furniture was strewn every which way. Aubrey wished the satellite image could be closer, offer more information, but she had to marvel at the detail modern technology could provide. Taking a photo from space was unheard of just fifty years ago. Now she could just barely make out rent railings in high def. Enough detail to make the pit in her stomach sink a little deeper.
“All the lifeboats have been launched,” Sasha pointed out.
Indeed, the orange and white escape pods were nowhere to be seen. Obviously someone made it off.
So where the hell are they?
Something creeping and cold made Aubrey suspect she didn’t want to know the answer to that question. She looked up in time to catch a glance from Julian. The young man quickly returned his gaze to the soft glow of the images. He didn’t look perplexed like everyone else, just intensely focused. He looked at the images with a quiet anxiety, like a cornered animal that was contemplating how it was going to have to fight its way out.
You do know something, Aubrey decided. She’d have to ask him about it later when they were alone.
“Infrared shows minimal heat signatures. Either most of the crew abandoned ship or they’re deep within it.” Konesco didn’t have to fill in the third possibility. That was already at the forefront of everyone’s mind. “The heat image also shows minimal power usage. The ship has been running slow. All indications that she’s suffered damage, possibly to her engines.
“The one thing we do know for certain is that someone’s still alive on that ship. She’s been making course corrections, albeit slowly. She’s currently making for port and will be here in about twenty-four hours from now. We need to be on that ship and in control before then.”
“And just how are we going to do that Captain?” Jack asked.
Konesco smiled tritely. “You’re going to fly us out there.”
Was it just her imagination, or did Aubrey hear everyone gulp? Jack sat back in his chair slowly. Mac snorted. “Good, I always thought my life insurance would eventually pay off.”
Harry also looked worried. “We just fly out there and then, what, jump? It may have worked for Butch Cassidy but I’m not the Sundance Kid.”
Konesco maintained a neutral expression as usual. “Oh come now Harry, we had it far worse in Columbia. Tell us Jack, is aerial insertion a possibility?”
Jack scrutinized the satellite photos with the intensity of a surgeon deciding where to make the cut. “On a cruise ship that’s underway? It’s never been done before.”
“Never been done or never will be done?” Konesco pressed.
Jack stared at the Emerald Rose thoughtfully. He let out a heavy sigh. “Getting you in won’t be a problem, at least not our biggest problem. It’s getting you out.”
Konesco shook his head. “We won’t be getting off, well not that way. You’ll deposit us on the ship. From there, B Squad will head for the engine room while A Squad will take control of the bridge. Most of the systems on the Emerald Rose were designed to be operated by a skeleton crew. We’ll be bringing this ship in ourselves if we have to. Jack, you’ll parallel us in the chopper as our eyes and ears in the sky.”
Jack nodded, though it didn’t seem like he liked the idea much. For once, everyone in the room agreed with him. “I’ll put you guys on the aft Lido pool deck. It’s the only place with enough room and the least amount of wind resistance.” The pilot hesitated as he looked at Aubrey, as if deciding whether to share the next part. “It’s gonna be—bumpy—to say the least.”
What the hell hasn’t been bumpy in this deal so far?
Aubrey cleared her throat. “And just what am I supposed to do when we get out there?” She was only voicing the question that everyone, including herself, was thinking. She hated the fact that she was the fifth wheel on this mission. Of course, people would have to get hurt or start dying for her to become useful, a fact she hated that much more.
Konesco smiled politely. “Stay with us, keep your head down, and patch my men up if the ride is indeed as—bumpy—as Jack predicts.” He scanned over the menagerie of cutthroats and techies in the room. “Any more questions?”
“Yeah, when do we light the fuse on this powder keg? I want to make sure I feed my fish before I die,” Mac asked.
“Thirteen minutes ago,” Konesco concluded. “Every second brings that ship closer to shore and God only knows if anyone’s actually at the helm. Let’s suit up people! We’re wheels up in ten!”
The energy in the room was palpable as everyone jolted from their seats. These were men of action. The briefing was their challenge. The doing, not so much. Aubrey tried to keep up as the procession rushed from the room. She tried to imagine how she’d ever fit in with this motley crew. Her place was in the lab surrounded by beakers and test results, not hopping out of moving vehicles, that business on her last dig be damned!
What the hell are you doing Aubrey? This is crazy! Carver is crazy!
“Keep your head up.” Aubrey jumped. She was surprised to find that Julian had fallen in step beside her. “It may seem pretty balls up right now but once you get out there, you’ll know what to do. Just trust your instincts and follow our lead.” He picked up his pace and marched on ahead of her.
Aubrey wasn’t much for the macho guy thing, but the bit of encouragement helped. Maybe Julian wasn’t such a bad guy. And maybe she had to be more careful than ever. Carver made it seem like she’d have to watch everyone closely. At least in Julian’s case, that wasn’t such a bad prospect. He had a nice butt.
Let’s hope I don’t have to patch it up before this day is through.
Chapter 4
They were coming. Coming to ruin its fun. Coming to take back what they perceived was theirs.
Watcher seethed with a cold rage, one that had been honed and sharpened and condensed for ages. This species needed to die. All species needed to perish with a snapping and a crunching and a bleeding that excited Watcher so.
Soon, it promised itself.
The Hunters had failed to track down the survivor before a message had been sent, a rudimentary stupid thing. Now so much damage had been done. Watcher relished the moment when it could crush the screaming life from the parasite that gnawed at its plans from the inside.
But first there was work to do. The visitors were approaching. They had no idea the living hell they were stepping into. Watcher would have some fun with them just as it had played with the other five thousand organ carriers aboard this vessel. It would break them down piece by piece starting with the organ human beings clung to called spirit.
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br /> Watcher enjoyed doing that with Mr. and Mrs. Cook. They were newlyweds that had embarked on their honeymoon but Watcher robbed them of the false notion that love would save them. In the chaos shortly after Watcher first revealed itself--oh what a glorious moment that was--the Cooks fled with a group of survivors. They thought they had safety in numbers. They headed for the lifeboats on Deck 4 which Watcher had already jettisoned moments before.
It waited in one of the rooms nearby, aware that the group was getting closer. It called to the Cooks from the shadows, a soft baby’s wail. Mrs. Cook was pregnant, Watcher could smell it, and she wouldn’t hesitate to come to the aid of an infant. Surprisingly—such a good memory—Mr. Cook rushed into the room to make the gallant rescue instead. What he found was the incarnation of hell itself. Watcher made quick work of him. Then—and this was the best part—it walked inside his skin, following the fleeing survivors and Mrs. Cook’s wails, and finished the rest of them off. It would never forget the look of betrayal and disbelief burned into Mrs. Cook’s face just before it plunged into it.
The hunt was so much fun, but now there were so few. Watcher was getting bored. It decided it needed a hobby. Maybe families. Families were a lot of fun. There were tons of families on the mainland. Yes definitely. Watcher would make families its hobby when it reached land.
Unfortunately, everyone had to work before they could play and Watcher was no exception. It had the survivor to deal with, and some new friends were coming. It was still vulnerable, at least for another twenty-four hours. The interlopers would be aboard soon and Watcher would have to finish them off, but not all at once. It didn’t see why anyone had to separate work from fun. It would play with them a bit. It had some time. Perhaps it was time to send up Harbinger to wait for them. Yes, definitely.
Families, Watcher mused with a sigh, a soft suserring sound. So many families.
