Unfathomed (The Locus Series Book 1)

by Ralph Kern

  “Jesus,” Solberg said with a shake of his head.

  “We have a problem. We only have ten morgue storage spaces.”

  “Okay,” Solberg looked thoughtful for a moment. Cruises were renowned for attracting an older clientele and as such they were prepared to deal with bodies, but they still only had a limited number of spaces. “As much as I’d like to simply dump the pirates overboard, I’m guessing at some point, assuming McNamara’s story is a load of crap, that Homeland Security or whoever are going to want those bodies as part of their investigation.”

  “I’d assume so, too,” Kendricks agreed.

  “Very well. Our own crew and passengers are to get the morgue spaces. I want their bodies treated with dignity. As for the pirates, run it by Dr. Emodi but I’d guess one of the food storage freezers would do the job?”

  “I’ll ask the question,” Kendricks said.

  “Just make sure the food comes out first.” Solberg stood to signify the meeting was coming to a close.

  “Aye aye, captain,” Kendricks said, a look of distaste crossing his face.

  Chapter 13 – Day 3

  “What’s the word, ma’am?” Hank asked. He had been guarding the Seahawk with the copilot, his HK MP7 personal defense weapon discreetly close at hand. He wasn’t going to take any chances with their only operational helicopter and, if need be, the two crew would have stormed Atlantica themselves if Mack had been in trouble.

  “The word is, they don’t believe me. They’re going to make for where they think the States are.” Mack said approaching the Seahawk. She squinted at the bullet holes which stitched along the grey flank and winced.

  “I’m not entirely sure I’d believe you either,” Hank said pragmatically. “You want us to lift?”

  “No,” Mack scratched her fingernail over one of the holes and frowned. “I don’t want to burn the fuel. They’ll figure out soon enough I’m telling the truth and, if they know what’s good for ‘em, head straight back to the Iggy. We’ll just hitch a ride.”

  ***

  “Resume course, original heading, full speed,” Solberg said as he lowered himself into his seat on the bridge.

  “Sir, just on the off chance that pilot is telling the truth, maybe we should consider a more fuel-efficient pace?” Kendricks said.

  “I don’t think, Liam, that I am quite willing to accept the whole world has disappeared just yet,” Solberg replied. “Full speed.”

  “Full speed, aye,” Kendricks said, catching the frown on John Reynolds’s face.

  “I better address the passengers. Quiet on the bridge, please.” Solberg composed himself, tugging his shirt straight before tapping his console. A red light appeared next to the webcam lens and he selected the mode which would show him on every screen throughout the ship.

  “Passengers and crew, as you are aware, assailants attempted to board the Atlantica using lethal force.” Solberg stared straight into the lens of the webcam, which was built into his console. “Our security teams successfully fended them off, but not without casualties. We now have a United States Navy helicopter to escort us, which is more than capable of protecting this ship from any further attacks. We will be making our way back to Fort Lauderdale at our best possible speed. Captain Solberg, out.”

  ***

  “This is everything they left behind.” Josef gestured at the array of weapons laid out on the table in the security room. Three AK-47s, a couple of M16A4s, a shotgun that Jack didn’t recognize, and a few handguns. Mingled in were a few handheld walkie-talkies and spare ammunition. “As you can see, it’s quite the collection.”

  “Yeah.” Jack picked one of the M16s. It was the latest generation of the venerable weapon system. Mounted on top of the weapon was an ACOG sight. “How are the survivors, Josef?”

  “The ship’s doctor says the critically injured terrorist, or pirate, whatever the hell he is, is just waiting to die,” the officer said with a shrug.

  “And ours?”

  “Whoever’s not going to make it,” Josef said quietly, “has already gone.”

  With a nod, Jack placed the rifle gently back down again. “We’re making back to the States at full speed. Hopefully, we’ll make landfall in a few hours.”

  Josef raised an eyebrow. “Hopefully?”

  “Yeah,” Jack said as he walked out of the room. “Hopefully.”

  ***

  “Are you okay?” Jack asked.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” Laurie said, the concern evident in her face. “More importantly, are you? Daddy told me you helped defend the ship.”

  “I’m okay. May I?” Jack gestured at the settee.

  “Sorry, of course,” Laurie said, moving across on it to give him space.

  With a weary sigh, Jack lowered himself down next to her. He rubbed just below his knee, where the prosthetic met flesh. “Where’s your father?”

  “I think he’s gone up to the bridge. Jack, what’s going on? The Wi-Fi and phones have been out for days, we’ve been answering distress calls left and right, and now the ship has been attacked by bloody terrorist-pirates! I may be understating matters a touch here... but something is not right.”

  “Too right it’s not.” Jack stopped playing with his sore leg and leaned back, resting his head on the back of the couch, closing his eyes.

  “The sooner we get off this ship the better.”

  Jack responded with a gentle snore.

  Chapter 14 – Day 3

  “Even in the worst-case scenario, we should be twenty miles inland by now,” Kendricks said quietly. There was nothing through the bridge window but ocean and a slowly lowering sun, turning red as it dipped closer to the horizon. The watery desolation before them was matched by the drained exhaustion Kendricks felt.

  “Fuck!” Solberg shouted. The other bridge crew glanced around, startled, before quickly turning back to their workstations.

  “Captain,” Reynolds said mildly but firmly, in a low voice only Solberg and Kendricks could hear. “For the benefit of your crew, please compose yourself.”

  “You are here by invitation, Mister Reynolds,” Solberg emphasized the lack of rank. “Don’t presume to tell me what to do on my bridge.”

  “Sir,” Kendricks interjected in an attempt to head off an argument. “Request permission to bring the ship to steerageway. Every drop of fuel we use on this heading is another we have to use if we decide to come about.”

  “Yes, yes. Bring us to steerageway,” Solberg said in a resigned tone, the anger leaving him.

  The ship began to slow, lowering from its top speed to the minimum it needed to maneuver.

  Solberg looked around the bridge, noticing an empty workstation. “Where the hell is Grissom?”

  “I haven’t seen him since last night.” Kendricks frowned. The whirlwind events of the last day had caused him to forget completely about the young officer. It was nearly twenty-four hours since he’d sent the man to figure out where they were. “I assume he was unsuccessful getting a position fix, forgot to check in and went back to his quarters since his watch was over. Kelly, I don’t suppose you’ve seen Walt?”

  “No, sir,” Maine replied, shaking her head.

  Kendricks thumbed through the contact list on his phone. Finding Grissom’s number, he called it. It went straight to voicemail. “Mister Grissom, Staff Captain Kendricks here. Please report in as soon as you get this message.”

  “Get someone down to his cabin,” Solberg said as he lowered himself into his seat. “Now’s not the time to have the crew slacking off.”

  “Aye aye, Captain.”

  “And get me that pilot up here.”

  ***

  “By our best estimates, we should be sailing through the Everglades right now.” Solberg pointed at the touchscreen tabletop map of Florida which was focused on Miami. “Clearly, we are not.”

  “I did say, Captain,” Mack said from where she stood by Solberg’s seat. “America is gone.”

  “How the hell am I supposed to
explain this to the passengers?” Solberg’s voice was strained, the tension showing in the tendons of his neck, choking his voice.

  “That’s a little above my pay grade, Captain,” Mack replied.

  Kendricks winced, expecting a fiery comeback from the Captain. None came. Instead, Solberg went back to pinching the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses. A posture he had adopted more and more often over the past few days.

  “Captain, we have encountered ships and boats before that have pushed on. They refused to stay, wanting to continue sailing to the pre-event west. Out of those that turned back, and our own reconnaissance efforts, we’ve seen nothing but sea and the occasional tiny island. The others? Well, they simply never returned,” Mack said quietly yet earnestly. “Atlantica is a vast pool of resources. If you return with me to the Ignatius. Perhaps we can join forces and find out what’s going on. Or at least survive.”

  “Captain,” Reynolds said gently. “I think we should take the lieutenant up on her offer.”

  “Sir, I agree. At the least until we can form a better plan,” Kendricks concurred.

  Solberg tapped on the tabletop, bringing up a graphical representation of the fuel tanks. The cylinders showed their fuel supplies were three quarters full.

  “We have, at max economy cruise, nearly four thousand nautical miles worth of fuel, give or take. We can push on for another couple of thousand if necessary before we need to turn around.”

  “Why? If we have to turn around, then we’ll be down to our last drops when we return. That would reduce our options substantially,” Reynolds said levelly. “If we head to the Ignatius now, there is nothing to preclude us taking that option later, but for now, I strongly recommend that we meet with this Captain Slater and see what intelligence about this region she can offer.”

  “Lieutenant,” Solberg sighed. “Please provide my helm with the best heading back toward the Ignatius. The rest of you, we need to figure out just what, and when to tell the passengers.”

  “We’ll have to tell them something soon,” Kendricks said. “They know we’ve been going back and forth for days.”

  “I know, Liam.”

  “Perhaps as a first option, we can tell them that due to the attack, we are going to rendezvous with the Ignatius. It wouldn’t seem preposterous for us to join with a naval vessel after such an incident,” Reynolds suggested.

  “And if she’s telling the truth?” Solberg pointed at Mack. “Then they will be even angrier we have kept them in the dark.”

  “And if this somehow turns out to be a load of bollocks?” Reynolds retorted. “Then we would be unnecessarily worrying them.”

  “Fair point.” Solberg nodded before saying decisively, now that the choice had been made, “Let’s just get to this destroyer.”

  Chapter 15 – Day 4

  The island was small, little more than a drop of green and yellow in the vast turquoise ocean. A central, vegetation-clad peak lanced high into the air surrounded by more gentle, tapered hills. Visible from the Atlantica’s bridge, the gently sloped areas had what looked to be cultivated fields. All told though, it wouldn’t have accounted for more than a few square miles.

  The squat grey USS Paul Ignatius nestled in the natural bay formed by the contours of the island. Her one hundred and fifty-five meter length had, concentrated within, a devastating array of hardware. There were no frills to her lines; every inch of her was designed to be a warship. Her boxy form was built from the keel up to be able to fight, and win against any almost any threat on, or in fact off, the planet.

  On the front was a small cannon, the only clearly visible weapon. Her true weaponry was hidden in her hull. Ninety-six cells contained a variety of different missiles, each capable of dealing death and destruction on land, sea, air, and even in space.

  “I still think one of our Type 45s could take her,” Admiral Reynolds murmured as he regarded the ship through a pair of borrowed binoculars, noting the hull numbers DDG-117 painted on the bow of the warship.

  “What was that?” Solberg asked, glancing over at the older man.

  “Nothing, Captain.” Reynolds lowered the binoculars. “At least we know your story bears out, Lieutenant. This part at least.”

  Mack nodded. “Don’t get me wrong, sir. I appreciate that so far this is a pretty tall tale. But you tell me any way a con artist could get hold of an Arleigh Burke class destroyer?”

  “If you’re quite done,” Solberg said. “Lieutenant, please provide Ms. Maine with your frequency, it’s time to pay my compliments to Captain Slater.”

  “They’ll be monitoring sixteen.”

  Maine, listening to the exchange nodded at Solberg. “You have the com.”

  “USS Paul Ignatius, this is Captain Solberg of the M/S Atlantica.”

  “M/S Atlantica, Ignatius Actual,” a firm female voice answered. “I was wondering when you would say hello. Welcome to Nest Island.”

  “Nest Island?” Solberg mouthed at Mack, who smiled and shrugged.

  “The old American eagle had to nest somewhere.”

  “Thank you, Ignatius.” Solberg returned his attention to his console. “As you can imagine, we have a lot of questions.”

  “As I would expect and I will endeavor to answer as many of them as I can for you. Perhaps I could come aboard?”

  Solberg looked at Reynolds, then Jack, who was standing next to the older man. Jack gave a slight shake of his head.

  “Ignatius, with the greatest of respect. My vessel has found itself in a rather confusing and extraordinary situation. We are, by anyone’s definition, completely lost and we have been attacked by pirates. I, for one, would rather our first meeting be in a neutral place.”

  “That sounds very sensible, Captain,” The voice on the radio replied.

  “Excellent. We will send you details shortly. Atlantica, out.

  “You do realize,” Reynolds said with a slight smile. “If she had wanted to, the Ignatius could have smashed us to smithereens an hour ago.”

  ***

  “Wouldn’t it be more appropriate if I go?” Kendricks asked as Solberg climbed up into one of seventeen-meter-long CRW55 mega lifeboats. Atlantica had twenty of the boats nestled into the ship’s flanks, each one capable of packing in three hundred and seventy people.

  “Liam, you have a giant hole in your shoulder. As appropriate as it may be, I think I’ll let you recover before I put you in harm’s way again.”

  Solberg ducked inside the hatch, followed by Jack, Reynolds, Mack, and a pair of crew who would be piloting the large craft. Deciding who would be included in the party hadn’t required too much thought. Reynolds would be on hand for any naval advice while Jack would provide an element of muscle. They were all dressed in blue windbreakers, proudly emblazoned with Atlantica’s name.

  The lifeboat, designed to carry so many, seemed empty with just six on board. Settling into the gaudy orange plastic seats, Solberg plucked his phone out of his jacket and switched it to radio mode. “Lower us.”

  With a lurch, the lifeboat descended towards the water far below, the winch system allowing the lifeboat to be lowered directly into the water rather than having to be swung out. Gently, the boat settled into the sea. The clamps on the davit released, freeing the lifeboat from the Atlantica.

  With a chugging noise, the motor started and the catamaran-hulled lifeboat began to power toward the island.

  Before long, they saw a speedboat powering trough the whitecaps toward them rapidly. The Rigid Inflatable Boat swept around them and the two Navy personnel onboard regarding them wearily, but with no weapons on show. They were clearly assessing whether the lifeboat constituted any kind of threat to them. Satisfied, the RIB slid to a halt next to the much-larger craft.

  “Captain Solberg?” The same voice that had been on the radio shouted over the wash of the sea. “Permission to come aboard?”

  “Granted.”

  A dark-haired woman in her early forties appeared in the hatchway, dressed in blue and g
rey camouflage trousers and jacket with a bulky life preserver over the top. On the left side of her collar was the silver leaf of a commander and on the other collar, the six-armed golden star insignia of a commander-at-sea.

  Solberg stood in the confines of the lifeboat, walked to the hatch and extended his hand. The woman took it and pumped it in a firm grip. Turning the handshake into an offer of assistance, Solberg guided her down the three steps to the deck of the lifeboat.

  “I’m Commander Heather Slater, Captain of the USS Paul Ignatius.”

  “Commander, I’m Lars Solberg, Captain of the Atlantica. This is Admiral John Reynolds, Retired, of the Royal Navy, formerly one of the passengers on my ship who is now acting in a consultative capacity, and this is Jack Cohen, who is my...” Solberg glanced at the quiet man. “Acting head of security.”

  “Pleased to meet you all,” Slater said, shaking the other two men’s hands before gesturing at another serious-looking man standing just outside the hatch. “And this is Petty Officer Miller. He’s here to keep me out of trouble. May I?” Slater gestured at one of the uncomfortable-looking plastic seats.

  “Of course.” Solberg took the seat opposite her.

  “I imagine you have a lot of questions. Unfortunately, so do we. It’s just we’ve had somewhat longer to come to terms with our situation,” Slater spoke in a calm, measured voice.

  “I suspect, Commander, the best place to start would be at the beginning.” Reynolds leaned forward.

  “Absolutely. On July 12, 2024 we were ten days into an anti-drug deployment, patrolling the Caribbean. It was a singularly uneventful operation up until that point. As of that evening however, we lost all contact with our home base, Mayport, and any kind of support systems or services.”

  “Humor me. What form did that take?” Solberg asked.

  “We lost all sat coms, radio, even our compass was ass-backwards. I presume those symptoms are what you are facing?”

  “Something like that.” Solberg nodded. “Please continue.”

  “We spent the next five days trying to resume communications and attempting to find some kind of recognizable landmass—to no avail. What we did find were several boats that were in a similar predicament to us. The big difference was that although they all reported last being in contact with the shore on the same date—those that still had living crews that is—some of them had been lost for a substantial amount of time, some a lot longer than we had. And some of those, Captain, were distinctly hostile. They have effectively set themselves up as pirates, preying on ships as they arrive.”