My Ride is a Bitch (The Kurtherian Gambit Book 13)

by Michael Anderle

  “No, no he isn’t,” Craig told her, “His name is Samual, and he has been there with that medium weight jacket for the last four hours.” Craig looked back over to the man up on the bow of the ship, “Terry didn’t have a box join us this time. Samual is one of the two men that Terry pulled in to help.”

  Craig turned back to Melissa, “Ma’am, I’m not trying to scare you, but I know a little of what Samual and his friend can do. The boys and I are sure.” Craig looked back out over the water and spoke to her, as well as to the wind.

  “This mission is screwed.”

  —

  Terry went up to the bridge of the ship, “You wanted me, Captain?”

  “Ja, Terry,” the Captain said, “We are getting updates that the Americans are about ten hours behind us. If you guys want to get in ahead of them, you will need to get going as soon as we can get you in close.” He nodded to the stern, “You can take the smaller craft, and we can run further west, maybe draw some other attention if you want?”

  Terry chewed on his lip, “We have five kilometers to go for the first entrance. If we … yeah, we can do this. I’ve got to go make plans, thanks, Captain.”

  “No problem, ja?”

  Terry waved and then turned around. He headed towards the stern, his thoughts whirling.

  —

  There were two sharp raps on her door, and Melissa heard Terry’s voice, “You decent?”

  “Yes,” and before she turned from her work towards the door, he had it opened. “What is it?” she asked.

  “We have the US Navy a few hours behind us. We are going to have to take the smaller vessel and the snowmobiles.”

  “Weather?” she asked.

  He shrugged, “Look’s fine. Well, fine for Antarctica.”

  “Who?”

  “You, Dr. Tooch, Mr. Jameson, Robert, Richard, Samual, Craig plus some supplies. If we don’t find anything, we will try to jump back on the ship within thirty-six hours and head out. The information the German government provided will be considered bad at that point.”

  “No storms heading this way?” she pressed.

  “Huh? No, well you can’t ever be sure with either of the Poles, but no, why?” he asked her.

  “Just checking, wondering what can go wrong out there,” she admitted.

  He scratched his chin in thought, “Well, plenty. I can tell you about the problems during...”

  “Stop!” Melissa had her hand up, “You don’t need to recite the facts from a dozen different Wikipedia articles, thank you,” she said. “Will the U.S. Navy kick us out?”

  “We have the right to be here, and maybe they won’t find our cave entrance. If they do and we tell them we have contacted Germany, they still might stay out. Possession is nine-tenths of ownership, and they might choose to eject us, but I don’t think so. And, like I said, they still have to find us. The Captain is going to take the ship in another direction to work to throw them off the scent if he can, give us a few more hours.”

  “Ok, when do we leave?” she asked.

  Terry’s voice got soft, “Melissa, you still want to do this?” he asked. “It is going to be miserable out there, and there is always a chance of dying. In the Antarctic, there is even a better chance of dying.”

  “Terry, I’ve taken the money and frankly, I would be pissed with myself if I miss the opportunity to find an old Nazi base and I wasn’t there to see it first-hand,” she replied.

  He shrugged, “Ok.” He turned and stepped to the door before turning back to her, “Pack as many spare socks as you can, and make sure you have spares of everything.”

  “Hey, we can snuggle for warmth, can’t we?” she smiled.

  He grinned and winked at her, “I don’t see why not, I’m good with the other guys spooning for warmth if they need to.” He stepped out and closed the door to her chuckling.

  USS Cruiser Cowpens

  Captain Forstal turned to answer the question, “Yes?”

  “Sir, we have unidentified ships coming over the horizon,” Radar Operator Andrews spoke crisply.

  “Distance?” He asked.

  “Seventy-five miles, close to the ground and sir,” the radar man paused, “they are coming in faster than anything we have.”

  “Speed?”

  “Mach 12 sir.”

  The Captain’s lips pursed, “Communications, see if we have any reason that TQB could be out here.”

  “Aye-aye, sir,” Tinbert called out.

  “Bring the Phalanx online, inform the Ford and the Wasp of our intentions,” the Captain commanded.

  Another voice spoke up, “This is the Cowpens…”

  —

  “Squad Leader, Navy ships are pinging us at this time,” Dorsal called over their comms, “the LHD Wasp is damned impressive.”

  “Agreed Number two,” Antony called out, “Remember, try to scare them, not sink them.”

  “We have radar lock,” Evert called in, “they’ve seen us.”

  “Split up and do some damned impressive maneuvers,” Antony instructed.

  Tyler quipped over the open line, “You know everyone, fly like an alien.”

  —

  “Holy Fuuuu…ddgge,” a voice called out on the bridge. The radar pings became solid aircraft and flew past the three ships and went in four different directions so fast if you blinked, you missed it.

  Doing ninety-degree turns.

  “We have U.F.O.’s.”

  “Four bogeys, random directions, random directions. Speeds all over the map.”

  “No fire, no fire,” the Captain called out, “Where the hell did those bogeys go?”

  “Two straight up, one east, one west. All are turning back and heading our direction.”

  “Do we have Mark-One Eyeballs on any of these?”

  “We got saucers, ok, we had saucers,” another called out as two of the flying objects went past the three ships.

  “Anybody get my call out about TQB?” The Captain asked.

  “Sir, those don’t look like TQB ships.”

  “Who the hell knows what they have?” Captain Forstal asked.

  “Well, sir, we saw them on radar,” Andrews replied.

  There was a slight pause, “Good point,” the Captain remarked. “Well, then who the hell are they?”

  “Think there is some truth to this being an alien Nazi base?” A voice asked.

  “Quiet on the bridge, let’s not jump to conclusions and break a leg here people,” the Captain reminded them.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Chapter 22

  Schwabenland, Antarctica

  “No wonder no one came back here.” Melissa said, her teeth chattering as the six snowmobiles cruised to a stop fifty feet inside the large cave opening, “My butt is frozen to the seat.”

  Terry got up off of the snowmobile and gave Melissa a hand to help her off, “Need me to rub it to increase the blood flow?” He asked, she pointed to the other people in the group with her eyes and then rolled them in exasperation.

  Terry smiled and looked around. There were no marks in the pushed up snow. He popped his hands together, hoping to increase the blood circulation.

  Robert and Samual came over, “We are going to check out the cave system, be right back.”

  Terry nodded. He didn’t command these guys, and he knew their prime objective was to protect the group, so giving them a command against that directive was just stupid.

  That’s when intelligent but brain dead accosted him, “Where are those two going?” Dr. Tooch demanded his arm pointing at Terry, “they could find something and blow this whole trip!”

  Terry raised his arm and pushed Dr. Tooch’s hand away from him, “They are checking out deeper in the cave.”

  “I can see that!” Dr. Tooch responded, “that’s what I’m worried about, they could mess up our first opportunity to speak to someone here.”

  “Or,” Terry replied, speaking slowly so his annoyance didn’t color the conversation, “They could trip
any traps and perhaps make sure none of us get hurt in the process.”

  “Traps?” The good professor looked into the direction the two men had gone, “Why would any traps be here?”

  “Why would any humans be here?” Terry asked.

  Dr. Tooch turned back to him, “Well, we have the notes that the base was built and we don’t have any confirmation the people ever came back.”

  “So, do you think, considering the time frame they came from, that maybe they wanted to make sure no one was coming here to kill them? You know, war and all?”

  “Well,” Dr. Tooch looked down towards the darker back of the cave where the two men had disappeared, “I supposed we could wait a few minutes.”

  In all, they waited thirty minutes for the two men to come back out of the darkness.

  By now, the team had moved an additional twenty-five yards into the cave. They set up a small camp behind a snow drift. The drift helped block the remaining wind, coming through the cave entrance, from hitting them.

  Terry turned when the lookout called out. The people joined together as the two men, in their light jackets, joined them, “We found fourteen traps and disabled them,” Richard told them.

  “Then, we found the door that enters their base. We stopped there and have come back,” Samual added. “We can’t promise all of the traps are cleared, but we think we found them all.” He shrugged, “Anyone good with first aid in the group?”

  Robert, Terry, and Craig all raised their hands, “In the service, it’s kinda required for our teams.”

  Richard nodded, “That is acceptable. We have left the door, that we found, untouched.”

  “No contact with people?” Dr. Tooch asked.

  “No, not so far,” Samual answered.

  —

  Inside, beyond the door Richard and Samual had not opened was a small room with four black and white monitors and eight lights.

  Seven of them were blinking red.

  One was blinking green.

  —

  Five people followed Richard and Samual back through the cavern, which darkened as they went further in. Soon, the people turned on their hard hat lights, and the beams cut through the darkness. Twice, Richard called out for the team to tread carefully, and only to step where they could see the men’s steps on the floor.

  None of the scientists and professors asked any questions, trusting that the two men weren’t pranking them.

  Soon, they came up to a copper door, still in miraculous shape. It had a green patina in a couple of places, most notably around the handle area. The door was larger than normal. Four-foot-wide and approximately nine feet tall. Mr. Jameson and Dr. Tooch both took multiple pictures before Dr. Tooch argued he should be allowed the opportunity to knock and then open the door.

  He knocked, but no one came to answer. In five minutes, he agreed he would work to pull the door open. He turned to smile for a picture when he realized everyone had taken the opportunity to step away from him. “Guess you think this could be booby-trapped too?” He asked.

  “Absolutely not!” Richard called out from twenty feet away, hiding slightly behind a large jut out from the wall. “But I’ve been known to be wrong, so I’m following the herd mentality.”

  Dr. Tooch snickered and shrugged his shoulders, “Well, I suppose if I die,” he turned around, “there are worse ways to go.”

  Dr. Tooch pulled, and nothing happened. He yanked harder. “It seems stuck.”

  “A likely story,” Mr. Jameson called out, a few chuckles following his comment.

  “Very funny,” Dr. Tooch admitted. “No, really.” He put one gloved hand against the wall next to the door and pulled harder, “I feel a slight give, but I can’t open it. Perhaps it is frozen closed?” he asked to no one in particular.

  Richard left his place by the wall, heading towards Dr. Tooch. “Tell Gabrielle I’m truly sorry about making this the decade of making rash decisions,” he told Samual, “And well, about you know what, too.”

  “Dr. Tooch?” Samual called out, and the man turned around, “You might want to come over here. If Richard goes up in flames or something, we don’t want his sacrifice to be in vain, right?”

  “Oh!” Dr. Tooch patted Richard on the shoulder as he hurried past him, “quite right.”

  Richard come up to the door and started looking around it, all the corners and then studied the floor in front of the door.

  Robert got Terry’s attention and raised an eyebrow. Terry shrugged back.

  Richard stood back up, “Ok, here goes nothing.” He put his gloved right hand against the frozen rock and with his left he grabbed the handle.

  “Should we count down for you, Richard?” Samual asked.

  “Bite me,” Richard supplied.

  “No, I’m good, thank you for the offer, tho’,” he replied to his friend. “Do hurry up. I’m really poor with …”

  Richard grunted, then shouted and with a crack the door opened and Richard twisted to his left, out of the way, as the door slammed open against the other side of the wall.

  Everyone’s breath was slowly released. Richard put an arm in the doorway and flicked it, finally putting his head around the corner and spoke up, “Seems clear. Ten-foot hallway and two doors.”

  Samual broke from his position, “Well, tally-ho and all that. Let’s see what those Nazi fuckers were up to down south, shall we?”

  —

  “It’s green,” Terry said.

  “Admirable sense of stating the obvious,” Richard remarked. “I want to know what the seven red lights mean.”

  “Well,” Terry replied reaching forward.

  “DON’T!” Richard and Samual both called out, causing Terry, Robert, and Melissa to jerk back. The rest of the people were in the short hallway watching them from the doorway.

  “What the hell!” Terry shouted, “You aren’t going to have to save me, I’m going to die of fright here!”

  “Well,” Richard commented, “We were trying to save their lives,” he pointed to those in the hallway. “What if some of those buttons are ‘kill the goons in the hallway’ switches?”

  “Well, then only Craig is in trouble,” Terry replied. “Mr. Jameson and Dr. Tooch are not goons.”

  “That’s pretty funny, asshole,” came from the hallway.

  “Hey!” Robert called out.

  “Oh, my apologies. That’s very funny asshole, sir!” Craig added.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Terry replied. “However, Richard has a point.” He rubbed his hands together. “We can’t all get in here, so…”

  “Everyone but Samual back outside the door,” Richard finished.

  “What, me?” Samual exclaimed, surprised, “Who voted me?”

  “Why I did, of course,” Richard patted him on the shoulder, “I took the first chance, it’s your turn to pull the trigger.”

  “Can we get off the gun metaphor?” Melissa asked.

  “Sorry, macabre humor helps,” Samual responded, “It’s been that way since 1710.”

  “What?” Melissa asked, caught off-guard.

  “What happened in 1710?” Terry asked, trying to think what he could remember about anything in 1710.

  “Don’t let Samual stop us from moving outside,” Richard replied, “Let’s go. The answer is the Reverend Jonathan Swift.”

  “Gulliver’s Travels?” Terry asked as he ushered Melissa out ahead of him.

  “The very same,” Richard agreed and winked to Samual who rolled his eyes. Richard closed the door behind him to the room Samual was in and moved everyone back out into the cavern. “Jon had a pretty deadpan sense of humor.”

  “Jon?” Melissa asked, trying to follow the conversation.

  ‘Yes, loved a woman in Ireland. She said no so he left and went to England. Biting tongue, that man.” Richard answered absentmindedly.

  Richard shoved the door back closed, and Melissa whispered to Terry, “He talks like he knew Jonathan Swift personally!”

  Terry nodded his he
ad. For all he knew, he had.