Leviathan: An Event Group Thriller

by David L. Golemon

  “In case you’re wondering, and if you’ll excuse me, I’m beginning to understand how you think, the captain has earned the right to wear that rank. She served as a trainee and midshipman under her own parents. She has taken the final exams of both the United States Naval Academy at Annapolis, and the Royal Naval College at Dartmouth. Her scores have never been equaled. Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, duty calls.”

  Samuels took an offered glass from a midshipman.

  “Captain, it is an honor to salute you and your ancestors on this yearly day of days,” Samuels said aloud as the middy stewards passed around trays of something that resembled green Kool-Aid in champagne flutes. Once everyone had a glass: “Captain, to the great god of the seas—to Roderick Deveroux Heirthall, and to the creator of Leviathan, past and present, his son, Octavian, upon his birthday!”

  “Roderick Deveroux—Octavian Heirthall!” the crew members repeated loudly.

  Sarah and Alice looked at Niles and the senator. Lee deferred by raising his eyebrow over his patch to the director; thus it fell on Compton, who nodded his head to toast a great man and his son.

  Henri Farbeaux smiled, finally agreeing with Compton, turned his glass flute upward, and drank heavily.

  “Absolutely the most despicable liquid I have ever tasted.” He took another drink, as did the others. “Yet, somehow it grows on you,” Farbeaux said, still grimacing.

  “I see you like our sparkling wine?”

  They looked up to see Alexandria Heirthall standing before them. She nodded toward the Frenchman. Her eyes were normal, and with them she carried an air of aggressiveness in her look.

  “No, I find it vulgar in the extreme … but somehow—how do I say—compelling?”

  “Well, we say the fermented poison sac of the silver-spined sea urchin.”

  A questioning look crossed the features of the Frenchman.

  “The drink, Colonel; it’s the fermented squeezings of the poison sacs of small sea creatures that make up what we call Jonah’s Ambrosia.”

  “Sea urchins? You go from the world’s rarest wine to sea urchins? I believe you need to speak with your chef,” Farbeaux said as he took another glass from a passing steward.

  “There will be wine for dinner,” she said as she took his arm.

  As Niles watched her leave arm in arm with Henri, he looked at each person around him.

  “She’s living in another world. Birthday parties for fictitious characters, the whole Nemo thing, she’s far beyond what I even thought,” Lee said, watching the captain’s back.

  Compton didn’t respond. He was busy studying the captain’s movements. Her stride and demeanor seemed measured and precise as she made her way through the crowd of adoring crew members.

  “Whether she’s mad or not is irrelevant. Let’s examine her achievements. Even if we don’t take her at face value as far as her sanity is concerned, we better take seriously the toys her family invented, and the ones she plays with,” Sarah said, nodding her head that they should join the rest at the long table that had been set up in front of the viewing glass. “Because insane or not, that woman holds one powerful hand of cards.”

  As the hundred officers and crew made their way to their places, a group of children, no older than twelve to fourteen, filed in and stood in front of the observation glass at the bow.

  As an officer next to her seated Sarah, she saw the boys and girls were dressed in shorts and white shirts. They smiled as an instructor stepped in front of them, and then turned and bowed at the captain, who nodded. Soon the most harmonious song Sarah or the others had ever heard came flowing from the mouths of the children—it was slow, melodious, and sent chills through them. Sarah looked toward the head of the long table and saw that the captain, though Farbeaux was speaking to her, was looking directly at her.

  Sarah nodded her head and the captain smiled. It was as though the woman had some great secret she held at arm’s length about Sarah that was hers alone to know.

  Outside the viewing windows, the cold Arctic Sea flowed by as Leviathan kept course for the gap between the Aleutians and Russia—what was known in naval terminology as a choke point.

  Leviathan would soon learn there was good reason for that term.

  THE EVENT GROUP COMPLEX,

  NELLIS AIR FORCE BASE, NEVADA

  The president listened to the story that Jack told him. After Europa and their investigative teams found out the name of the family they were dealing with, diaries and other government paperwork from history started flowing into the Group’s lap.

  The president understood that almost sixty percent of what he was hearing was conjecture, but given what the president had learned in his very short time of knowing these people in Nevada, he knew to throw out the percentages. Their guesswork was a better percentage risk than most agencies’ facts.

  “So your historical departments believe that this Octavian Heirthall assisted Lincoln in some capacity during the Civil War? And there was definite animosity between this man and Secretary of War Stanton?”

  “From the few entries from diaries—with the mention of O. H., or the Norwegian—we assume these diarists were speaking of Octavian,” Jack explained. “The most convincing piece of evidence comes from the official paymaster of the Confederate States. Five hundred dollars in gold was issued to Confederate Assistant Secretary of State Thomas Engersoll, and he was sent on a mission to Great Britain. His orders were unknown, but we have confirmed that he met directly with Queen Victoria and certain members of Parliament. There has been conjecture around here that a treaty may have been in the works between England and the Confederacy.”

  “What happened to this Engersoll, Colonel?” the president asked.

  “He was lost in a storm in the Gulf of Mexico in eighteen sixty-three on his return trip, along with three British warships.”

  “Hmm, damn rough storm,” the president said, shaking his head.

  “Yes, it would have been, except for the fact our historians say there wasn’t a severe storm in the general area for the entire months of June and July of eighteen sixty-three that could account for sinking three British men-of-war.”

  “Octavian Heirthall?”

  “Yes, sir, we believe that was one of the missions he was tasked with. All the pieces of the puzzle fit together, Mr. President; we believe that the history is correct and it leads us right to Alexandria Heirthall.”

  “What do we do about it?”

  Jack turned the meeting back to Pete Golding.

  “Well, sir, we have a theory that places Octavian Heirthall somewhere within a three-thousand-square-mile area of the Pacific, where we believe he made his home base. That, coupled with physical evidence recovered here at the complex after the assault, makes us believe we may find them somewhere in between Saboo Island in the Marianas, and Guam.”

  “I need the chain of evidence sent over. The Russians and Chinese have set traps at the entrances into the Pacific and Indian oceans, around the Cape of Good Hope, Cape Horn of South America, and the Bering Strait.”

  Jack turned the monitor back to face him.

  “Sir, this trap the Russians and Chinese have come up with—call it off. Get them to back away until we can figure out a more realistic plan of action. It’s our opinion, as I’m sure is the navy’s, that we can’t outgun this woman.”

  The president sat motionless as he looked at the images of Pete and Collins. Then he thought a moment.

  “Colonel, Admiral Fuqua has the attack boats Pasadena, Dallas, and Missouri dispersed in those ambushing groups. I cannot pull them out at this time. We would lose all hope of cooperation between our Asian and Russian allies in this mess. The Russians, Venezuelans, British, and Chinese are fuming after this morning’s attacks.”

  The double doors to the office opened and Gene Robbins came through with a sheaf of paper. He placed it on Pete’s desk and waited for the meeting to end.

  “What exactly is their plan of attack?” Jack asked.

 
; “A cordon of eight attack submarines, arrayed at intervals and different depths, lying quiet and ready to shoot at anything that comes out of the polar passages. The same amount has been placed at the other areas I mentioned.”

  Jack didn’t say what he was thinking—that this would be a massacre beyond anyone’s worst nightmare, and in favor of the wrong team.

  “So, get me somewhere I can make a stand against these people. Come up with something, Colonel. Thus far the CIA, NSA, and FBI have nothing.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The monitor went from the president’s image to a blank blue screen.

  “Did I hear right—they’re setting a trap for Leviathan?” Robbins asked, removing his glasses. “Wasn’t the loss of those British warships enough for one day?”

  Collins looked at Robbins. “Do you expect the world to just lie down and not try to stop this madness, Doctor?”

  “No … no, of course not … I just mean—”

  “What do you have, Gene?” Pete asked, cutting off his quasi-apology.

  “I just wanted to tell you that we have Europa completely back. I’ve close-looped the system with the exception of the clean room, and only we four currently have access to that area.”

  “That will be all, Gene,” Pete said, gesturing toward the door.

  Robbins quickly left the office.

  “I never knew the good doctor was so passionate about naval losses,” Everett said.

  “He’s just frustrated,” Pete said.

  Jack nodded at Everett, and the captain pulled a small plastic bag out of his back pocket and handed it to Pete. Golding accepted the bag and looked it over.

  “Rubber gloves?” he asked.

  “Pete, when we head out to Saboo Island, I think we need a person from the computer center to accompany us. You never know, we may need one on this trip,” Jack said, looking serious and tapping the plastic bag Pete was holding.

  “I guess I can assign someone.”

  “Not just someone, Pete. I want the saboteur to come along for the ride.”

  11

  LEVIATHAN, EIGHTY MILES

  NORTH OF THE BERING STRAIT

  After dessert, the choir had been replaced with a string quartet. They played classical music as the officers and Leviathan‘s guests stood talking.

  “If I may ask, Captain, what is Leviathan‘s crew complement?” Lee asked as a designed intelligence question.

  “Of course—we have seven hundred seventy-two officers and crew. We also have aboard fifty-two trainees and seventy-five midshipmen. They form an excellent choir, don’t you agree?”

  “I am becoming aware of your crew’s extreme loyalty to you … and your philosophy, Captain,” Niles said, choosing to ignore the question about the midshipmen.

  “Dr. Compton, my crew’s loyalty has never entered my mind. As for my philosophy, I never hold back any information from them. On the contrary, I rely on their research, their study, and their ideas.”

  “Can I safely assume there is a base involved with Leviathan’s upkeep?” Lee asked, tapping the teak deck with his cane.

  “Yes, there is a place we call home, actually two of them. My great-grandmother Olivia and her husband, Peter Wallace, established the first permanent base after the betrayal of her own father, Octavian. I along with my parents excavated the second base in the last fifty years.” Her gaze moved away from the two men and she looked at the sea outside of the large windows, flowing above and around her. “The second one is a place that was unreachable for many years, until certain problems were worked out.”

  “And that base is where?” Lee asked.

  She turned and looked at the two men, smiling.

  “It would do me no good to tell you about it. We will arrive at the first in a day or so, and the second soon after.”

  Niles studied the beautiful woman before him. She had moments of clarity where she seemed as if she were just any other passenger on a cruise ship, marveling at the vessel and seas around her. Niles was close to the unalterable conclusion that he was indeed looking at the most intelligent person he had ever known, and as Lee had suggested on many occasions, the most insane.

  “Captain, I am not a stupid man, but I’ll be damned if I can figure out your hull design and the materials used in Leviathan‘s construction. How can you achieve such depths?” Lee again waved his cane around him, indicating the ship as a whole.

  “Leviathan‘s hull is a composite material derived from nylon, spun steel, plastic, and an ingredient that is found only at the most extreme depths of—” She suddenly stopped and smiled at Lee. “You almost had me, Senator. I must say, your OSS history came into play there, didn’t it?”

  “I had to try,” Lee said, not smiling.

  “However, I see no harm in telling you a little something. You wouldn’t understand the dynamics involved at any rate, so I will just give you the end result.” She smiled at her small insult to the senator. “You may be surprised to know that the deeper Leviathan travels, the denser our hull material becomes. It compacts itself, quadrupling its strength.”

  Alice came up and took Lee by the arm. “Captain Heirthall, why didn’t you sit down with the leaders of the world and show them what you are showing us before you started shooting?”

  “Yes, Alex, why don’t you explain why you didn’t do that?”

  They turned and saw Virginia standing behind the captain. She was dressed in a simple green evening gown, and her eyes were somewhat puffy, as if she had been crying.

  “Certain developments in the Gulf of Mexico arose that made talking beforehand unacceptable. Immediate action was required, and I acted. The greed of a single country was—”

  “Be careful, Alex, your hatred is showing through your words,” Virginia said as she reached out and removed a glass of wine from the table.

  Alexandria looked from Virginia to the other members of the Event Group, then smiled.

  “Why, Ginny, are you still angry with me for setting you up? I’ve explained in no uncertain terms your complete innocence in my getting the information and intelligence I needed on your Group.”

  Virginia tilted her head after taking a drink of wine.

  “No, not angry. I love the Group and the people I work with,” she said, looking over at Niles, who lowered his own eyes to the floor. “They would have eventually found out the truth. I also thought I knew you, Alex. The person you are now kills innocents so easily. The Alex I knew in college would have convinced anyone who listened that she had a better way.” She looked around, gesturing at Leviathan. “A person who creates something as magnificent as this, and she turns out to be as cold as the sea she claims to protect.” Virginia drained the glass of wine and then reached for the bottle on the table. “ ‘With great power comes great responsibility.’ I forget who said that.”

  Lee started to answer but Alice squeezed his arm for him to be silent.

  “And I take that responsibility seriously, Ginny, you know that,” Heirthall said, looking harshly at her old friend.

  Sergeant Tyler stepped up to the group and held a glass of wine up in a mock toast. His look said that he was interested in the conversation.

  Pouring wine into her glass, Virginia kept her eyes averted from the small group around her. “Yes, we’ve been witness to your responsibility, Alex. Now tell me, old friend, obviously you have another person inside our department who could have told you we know nothing about your family, their science, or your intentions. So why bring us here?”

  “Sergeant Tyler will answer that for you soon enough.”

  “You’re a liar, Alex; you need us for something. What is it?”

  Alice stepped forward when she saw a spark of anger flare in the eyes of Alexandria. She took Virginia by the arm and quickly led her away from the table.

  “I see I’m not the only one who is enjoying the wine,” Farbeaux said as he and Sarah joined the silent trio.

  “Captain, Virginia is—”

  “Of all the peop
le in the world, Dr. Compton, Ginny is one person you never have to explain to me.” She lowered her head and made as if she were adjusting her white gloves.

  “Excuse me, I must attend to something,” Sergeant Tyler said, placing his untouched wine on the table next to him. His eyes locked on Alexandria’s and something passed between them. It made the Group wonder who was really in charge on Leviathan.

  As the uncomfortable silence continued, a wailing alarm sounded. It lasted for only a minute, but it was enough for officers and crew to start moving from the observation lounge in a hurry.

  The first officer approached Heirthall, placed a flimsy message into her hand, then turned her away and whispered something. They all watched as the captain’s face went slack, and then she squeezed her eyes shut and planted her hands on the table before her. Samuels quickly moved away from her and turned, angrily pulling off his white gloves.

  As they watched, the captain switched on the intercom.

  “Officer of the deck, all stop, maintain depth, order quick quiet on all decks and initiate side-scan sonar laser system.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  Outside Leviathan, a sliding panel slid away from her hull and into the boat. This recessed area wrapped around the entire length of the submarine. Inside the abscess was what looked to be Christmas tree lights, glowing a deep red and growing in power by the second. As Leviathan came to a complete standstill, a thousand small lasers powered up and pierced the darkened waters of the Bering Strait, three miles off her bow. Light shot out into all quarters, revolving, spinning until the whole of the great submarine was wrapped in a glowing red cocoon of undulating laser light.

  “This is the reason I am forced to do the unthinkable. With nations it is always their love of power. Their stupidity is matched only by their false bravado and their love for the sound of rattling sabers.”