Deadly Echoes

by Philip Donlay

  “Mr. Nash,” Janie said when she noticed he was awake. “I’m going to refuel to be ready to fly back out, unless you have other instructions for me.”

  “Take a break, you’ve earned it, but stay close,” Donovan replied. “At some point Lauren and Buck will need to be flown off the ship.”

  Janie hovered briefly and then eased the helicopter down next to a hangar; inside Donovan spotted the da Vinci. He waited for her to shut down the helicopter.

  “Janie, what you did today was remarkable in every sense of the word. I may not know much about helicopters, but I know a good pilot when I see one, and you’re one of the best. I’ll fly with you anytime. Thank you.”

  “I appreciate that, sir, I’m just glad to have helped.”

  Donovan popped the door and stepped out of the 407 onto the concrete ramp. He gave Janie a quick salute and then walked to the da Vinci, happy to see that an external power cart had been connected to the airplane. He unlocked the main cabin door and stood to the side as the stairs extended. He ducked under the wing, briefly checked the electrical panel on the power cart, and then pushed a button that started the unit. The hum of electricity was matched by a green light.

  He climbed the steps, stopped at the top, and turned back to face the ramp as Meredith had in the latest photo. He tried to imagine where they were and why the fond farewell. Her hair, the dress. He pulled out the picture and the answer hit him. There, on her left hand was the engagement ring. They’d been with William. They’d flown out to Washington, D.C., to tell him in person they were engaged. It was William they were waving good-bye to. Garrick had eliminated the date and time on the photo to make Donovan once again relive his time with Meredith. The warning that came with the realization nearly made Donovan sick to his stomach. He powered up his phone and waited impatiently.

  He was just about to make the call when his phone rang. William—exactly who he needed to reach.

  “Hello, Robert,” Garrick said.

  Donovan’s entire body went rigid. There was only one way Garrick could be calling from William’s phone. “Leave him alone. I’ll do whatever you want.”

  “What I want is for you to come to me. Just you. If you call the police, William dies. I’ll also leave behind a jump drive I’ve assembled that explains Robert Huntington’s entire life story. I was very careful not to leave out anything. Don’t come in the Eco-Watch jet, that’ll draw too much attention. You’ve got six hours.”

  Donovan had no idea if Stephanie and Abigail were prisoners as well and he didn’t dare ask. “I may have to catch a commercial flight which will take me more than six hours.”

  “I’d get a little more creative than that, Robert. Charter a plane, steal one. I don’t really care, but you only have six hours. I’m a busy man.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Call once you arrive in Los Angeles, and I’ll tell you.”

  “How do I know he’s still alive?”

  “You don’t. You’re on the clock. Good-bye, Robert.”

  Donovan immediately dialed Stephanie. She picked up on the first ring.

  “Oh, Donovan, thank God it’s you.”

  Donovan thought she sounded out of breath or scared. “I’m here. What’s happening? Is Abigail with you? Are you somewhere safe?”

  “We’re both safe, I think. We were in town when William called. He said he’d just gotten a warning from Erica that Garrick was on his way to Southern California. He told me to run, get Abigail somewhere safe, and not to talk to anyone but you or Lauren. We were on the phone when I heard shouting and what sounded like gunshots, and then the phone went dead.”

  “How long ago?” Donovan closed his eyes and tried not to imagine the worst.

  “Twenty minutes. Abigail and I were at a frozen yogurt place she loves.”

  “You take care of Abigail. Don’t tell anyone where you are. I’m on my way to Los Angeles. Tell Abigail her mom and dad love her dearly and we’ll see her soon.”

  “Please help Uncle William.”

  “You know I’ll do everything in my power. I promise.”

  Donovan ended the call and was nearly overwhelmed with a mixture of grief and rage. William was being held hostage and his daughter and Stephanie had missed being captured only by Erica’s warning. From the bottom of the stairs, he heard an unfamiliar female voice call out and ask if anyone was aboard. He hurried into the baggage compartment and found Erica’s satchel and the small pistol inside. He checked that there was a bullet in the chamber and then walked quietly to the main cabin door and peeked around the corner. At the bottom of the airstair was an attractive woman who looked vaguely familiar. She wasn’t particularly tall, maybe five foot five, but she was compact and very well put together with blond hair, big eyes, and brilliant smile. Dressed stylishly, she looked up and smiled up at him.

  “Excuse me, do you work for Eco-Watch?”

  “Who wants to know?” Donovan replied, unsure where he’d seen her before and how she’d wandered unescorted into the hangar.

  “My name is Amanda Sullivan, I’m with Global Media Partners. I’d like to ask you some questions.”

  Hearing her name brought it all together. She was a well-known journalist, an investigative reporter with a Pulitzer for her coverage in Haiti after the devastating earthquake. Global Media Partners was one of the largest communications conglomerates in the world. Print, television, radio, GMP was everywhere. “Ms. Sullivan, how did you get past security?”

  “We just landed, and I noticed the Eco-Watch aircraft as we taxied by. I thought I’d walk over and see if anyone was aboard, and here you are. Now, if I may, what is your position within Eco-Watch?”

  “No comment,” Donovan replied automatically. As a rule he avoided the media as much as possible. Then he had another thought. “Ms. Sullivan, you said you just landed, may I ask from where?”

  “New York.”

  “What kind of an airplane?”

  “It’s a Falcon 900. Why do you ask?”

  “Are you here to cover the story about the tanker in Prince William Sound?”

  “Of course, have you been out there? What can you tell me?”

  “Ms. Sullivan, please, come aboard. We need to talk.” Donovan stashed the pistol out of sight in his jacket pocket.

  Donovan escorted Amanda into the nerve center of the da Vinci, where he powered up the mainframe computer to view the footage Lauren had captured from today’s events. It took a moment for the system to boot up, but from the expression on her face, he knew he had her complete attention.

  “You still haven’t told me who you are.”

  Donovan took out his wallet and handed her a business card. As she read the name her eyes flared for just a moment and then quickly narrowed, as if calculating how much the stakes had just gone up. “Mr. Nash, you’re a very private and elusive man. How do I know it’s really you?”

  Donovan slipped out his driver’s license.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Amanda smiled as she returned his ID.

  “Here’s what I want,” Donovan said as he slid his license back into his wallet. “I’m prepared to give you an exclusive interview about recent events, as well as access to the footage shot today of the North Star hijacking. Not the fabricated footage I understand is being shown on CNN, but actual high-resolution images taken by the state-of-the art systems aboard this aircraft. I won’t agree to being photographed or recorded. This interview will be the old-fashioned kind where I talk and you take notes. That’s my one and only offer. Oh, and the interview can last no longer than four and a half hours.”

  “That’s an odd set of conditions, Mr. Nash. What is it you want from me?”

  “Conduct the interview as you fly me to Los Angeles in your Falcon.”

  Amanda didn’t as much as flinch. “It’s possible, but I’ll need to see the tape. If I think you have something of value, I’ll call my office in New York.”

  Donovan expected as much. He switched on the monitor, sel
ected the file from the menu, and hit play. The first image filling the screen was that of the North Star as the da Vinci streaked overhead. Amanda watched in silence, and Donovan waited for the final scene, the one that was going to get him to Los Angeles. Lauren had managed to capture the North Star as the ship ran aground. Even with no sound, the sight of the blue water beneath the ship suddenly becoming a brown reef and then the visual of the tanker steaming straight into it was journalistic gold. The high-resolution image captured the individual shock waves rippling through the steel of the hull as the North Star dug into the reef. Metal and water exploded into the air as the impact obliterated the outer hull. The sight of a solitary man racing toward the bow added scale to the enormity of the event.

  Wordlessly, Amanda began dialing her phone, and as she did, Donovan pushed the button that would make her a copy of the file.

  While he waited, he used his phone to listen to his voice mail in hopes that there was one from Erica. What he heard was his life falling apart around him. Peggy had called to report that CNN had called, as had most of the other major news outlets. There was also news that Congressman Brandt out of Oregon had appeared on a political talk show and gone on record suggesting all contracts with Eco-Watch be halted until the Justice Department could conduct a full investigation. There were three messages from members of Eco-Watch’s board of trustees wanting to talk, as well as two major foundations, significant financial supporters. Donovan decided they could all screw themselves. Eco-Watch was circling the drain, and he wasn’t sure he could stop the inevitable. In the face of losing William, nothing else really mattered. When he reached the last message without any word from Erica, all he felt was more fear.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  “Where’s Donovan?” Buck asked Lauren.

  “He’s headed back to Anchorage to try and minimize the fallout for Eco-Watch.”

  Buck started to swear, caught himself, and just shook his head in frustration. “Really? He heads back to the one place where there are probably people trying to kill him, and he went unescorted in an Eco-Watch helicopter?”

  “There’s nothing for him to do here. You and I can both contribute to this situation, so he left. He’s a big boy, and it’s not your problem.”

  “He is my problem,” Buck replied.

  “Look, I’m sorry you signed on in the middle of all this chaos between Donovan and me. We had a fight, I wanted him off the ship, and now he’s gone.” Her anger flared, and even though her words held a modicum of truth, Lauren hated every syllable of the latest lie she’d just told. Once again, Donovan was off doing whatever he wanted, and she was left trying to make excuses for him to maintain the deception. “He’s probably with Michael, brain-storming with William on how best to contain the damage these people have inflicted.”

  “I’m just going to have to get used to Mr. Nash doing what he does.”

  “I couldn’t.” Lauren turned to distance herself from Buck. She hated the lies, especially when they were to Buck, a man who had once saved her life. She tried to take her mind off of Donovan. If he was doing any brainstorming, he was figuring out how to get to Erica.

  Agent Martinson had gone below to assist her agents with the crime scene and when Lauren heard voices behind her, she turned to find Gunnison escorting a tall, thin man onto the bridge.

  “Dr. McKenna, this is Captain Joseph Flemming from the Orion. I was just bringing him up to date on the plan.”

  “Doctor,” Flemming took the hand that Lauren offered and they shook. “I’ve got to tell you, this is a hell of a thing you dreamed up.”

  “It’s only one option,” Lauren replied. She found Flemming’s kind eyes and his smooth Texas accent charming. She turned to Gunnison as Davis and Hughes joined the conversation. “What’s the latest status of the ship?”

  “Creating a tsunami is now our only option. Our divers were able to get some photos of the inner hull. There are creases beginning to form. The architects say it’s going to fail at the next low tide.” Gunnison paused as he was handed a sheet of paper and he quickly scanned the text. “Final okay just came down from the governor. In Washington, the president just issued an executive order and the Pentagon has mobilized military assets to be at our disposal. They’ll be working in conjunction with the Coast Guard to evacuate the people in all of the affected areas. We have mining experts as well as a team from the U.S. Geological Survey on the glacier right now to begin examining the ice. Their people are generating computer models to predict the aftermath of the wave. We’ve also linked up with the architectural team who designed the ship to help us understand how the wave will impact the compromised structural aspects of the North Star. It’s a complicated job.”

  Captain Flemming drew himself up to his full six foot six, removed his watch cap, and ran his hand over the gray stubble on his scalp. “Dr. McKenna, let me see if I understand this. You’re confident that these folks can create a tsunami to lift this crippled tanker free of the reef and push it out into the sound, in the belief that action will prevent an oil spill.”

  “In broad strokes, yes, that’s the plan. It’s simple physics, really.”

  “Hell of a thing.” Flemming put his cap back on. “Okay, what is it you want from me?”

  “I understand you were on the committee that helped Huntington Oil design this ship.”

  “You’re very well informed, but that was years ago. We can all thank the late Meredith Barnes for the ten feet of space between the hulls, may she rest in peace. I can tell you, if we spill any oil today, it would have broken both their hearts.”

  “Both?” Lauren asked.

  “Meredith Barnes and Robert Huntington. I’ve never seen two people more passionate about their respective jobs and the responsibility they held.”

  Lauren was instantly sorry she’d gone fishing for Flemming’s impression of a younger Robert Huntington. She especially didn’t need to hear how well he worked with Meredith. “We need you to help us figure out how this ship is going to react once it’s free. Hopefully, you’ll have the North Star’s own engines to assist, as well as two supertugs tethered to the ship. Once the tanker is free from the reef, we want it to stay inside the oil containment area, not flung out into the sound, just in case it is leaking oil. Now, what will it take to accomplish that?”

  “A goddamned miracle,” Flemming bellowed. “The way I see it, you’re going to need a forty- to fifty-foot rise in water to get a clean lift. This tsunami you’re talking about is going to come charging down the inlet at about five hundred miles per hour. I don’t have an advanced degree, but I know a little bit about mass and acceleration, and you’re going to have a shitload of both. What’s to stop this wave from capsizing the ship or shearing off the entire upper decks?”

  “Fair questions to be sure. You’re correct, the energy is traveling through the water at five hundred miles per hour, but most of the impulse will pass beneath the ship in deep water and be gone. At the reef, the ocean floor rises up from a steady one hundred seventy fathoms, to one forty, and then gradually continues to rise until it reaches the tanker. That’s where the wave will form and it’s that upward energy we’re interested in controlling. By my calculations, this ship is going to be pushed up and off the reef and spun clockwise by the current due to the variations of the seafloor approaching the reef. Left to its own devices, the North Star will travel a little over five nautical miles before the kinetic energy has been expended. Now if we factor in the two tugs and full power from the tanker’s engines, how much can we reduce that distance?”

  “Half, maybe a little less if we’re lucky. The tugs and the tanker will be traveling with the same wave. That’s a great deal of mass to decelerate,” Flemming said as he leaned over and once again studied the chart. “What’s to stop it from spinning the other way, in which case we’ll be slammed into the island?”

  “I can promise you that won’t happen, Olsen Island isn’t in play,” Lauren replied. “The ship will be rotating clockwise.�
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  “Physics again?” Flemming arched an eyebrow.

  “Yes. The initial upswell is hard to predict, as is the damage to the ship. It’ll be a small miracle if the hull isn’t leaking some oil, which in my mind makes it essential that the tanker is kept inside the containment area no matter what.”

  “That said, if it were me, I’d run the containment booms two miles south and hope for the best,” Flemming replied.

  One of the electrical engineers brought over from the Orion stuck his head out from underneath the console. “Captain Flemming, I’ve spliced everything back together, run the diagnostics, and it tells me you have bridge control of both engines and full rudder authority. The bow thrusters are destroyed, but everything else should work.”

  “Good work. Let’s start ’em both up right now and make sure we have power.” Flemming turned back to face Gunnison. “I’m told that all vessels except the two tugs will be moved out into the sound. They’ll ride out the tsunami in the open water away from any islands.”

  “Yes, sir. We want to minimize the number of ships in the North Star’s immediate vicinity.”

  Lauren motioned for Buck to join her. “Captain, I’d like to introduce Howard Buckley, former Navy SEAL and Eco-Watch chief of security. He’s going to explain how all of this can go wrong, and hopefully, what we can do to prevent that from happening.”

  “Captain.” Buck shook Flemming’s hand. “I gather you’re going to be at the helm when we do this.”