The Ark tl-1

by Boyd Morrison

  When they were both secure on the staircase, they fell to the stairs, panting for air.

  Locke wiped his brow with his sleeve, then pushed himself up slowly. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.

  “And you think I’m nuts?” he said, his voice shakier than Grant had ever heard it before.

  “Bat-shit cuckoo,” Grant replied.

  Locke held out his hand, and Grant shook it.

  “Thanks,” Locke said. “I owe you several for that maneuver.”

  “And we owe Tesla a new car.”

  “We’ve got bigger problems.” Locke pointed at an approaching sign. It said Splash World parking lot next right. “That’s how he’s planning to get away.”

  Made sense, Grant thought, in a sick sort of way. Splash World was the biggest and most popular water park in the city. Hot day like this, there’d be thousands of people there. The truck driver would just crash through the park and get out in the confusion.

  “Let’s get him then,” Grant said climbing toward the top of the staircase. He felt Locke grab his ankle.

  “Guy’s got the AR-15 trained on us. He’ll take us out before we get halfway to the cab.” Locke took out his Leatherman tool. “Here. You’re the electrical engineer. Since you’re on board now, you can do it.”

  The truck swerved around and into the Splash World parking lot. It began mowing through cars like Bigfoot’s gigantic brother.

  “And hurry,” Locke added.

  The engine bay was open on the side for easy access and maintenance. Like most modern engines, the Liebherr’s was computer controlled. If Grant could disable the computer, the truck’s safeguards would kick in, cut off the fuel supply, and the brakes would automatically engage.

  “If I had known you’d go to all this trouble to get me on the truck,” Grant yelled as he climbed into the roaring engine bay, “I would have made you drive.”

  He could see a checkered view of the park fence through the front grill. It was swiftly approaching. He unfolded the Leatherman and opened the wire cutters carefully. If he dropped it, they’d be royally screwed.

  Grant could make out screams in the distance, but he didn’t see anyone getting run over by the truck. At least that was something. Up ahead, he saw what the driver was aiming for. A collection of waterslides. If the driver could demolish them, the panic in the park would be complete.

  Grant found the wires leading to the on-board computer. He began snipping them one by one.

  The truck burst through the outer fence.

  Two wires to go.

  Grant could see the huge wave pool pass to their left.

  One wire left. With the last snip, the engine abruptly cut off. The sudden silence was deafening. The truck started to slow, but they were still rolling toward the water slides. The screams of those who were stuck on the staircase waiting area got louder as the truck closed the distance.

  Then the emergency brakes kicked in. The truck lurched as if a giant had grabbed its rear. The truck crashed through two slides and ground to a halt just as it reached the teeming staircase, gently tapping it but nothing more. Grant whistled. Close call.

  Now dripping with sweat from the heat, Grant climbed out of the engine bay.

  Locke was above him standing at the top of the staircase, looking at the cab. Since he wasn’t being shot at, that meant only one thing.

  “Don’t tell me,” Grant said. “He’s gone.”

  Locke nodded, his frustration apparent. “And he took whatever he had with him. Must have jumped into the wave pool when we passed it. Probably lost in the crowd by now.”

  “Lucky bastard,” Grant said, mopping his brow. “At least he got to go for a swim.”

  THIRTY

  The Tuesday evening news had been wall-to-wall coverage of the truck chase, and on Wednesday morning, the finger pointing had begun. The damage done to the Deer Valley portion of Phoenix had been extensive, but not as catastrophic as it could have been. Except for the construction warehouse, most of the destruction was contained at Splash World. At least 65 cars in the parking lot were totally destroyed, and another 50 damaged. The total bill for the damage would undoubtedly run into the millions. It was a miracle that the only deaths had been the one hijacker and the two deputies. Several people at Splash World were injured, but none seriously. Still, Gordian would now have to brace for the inevitable lawsuits.

  Miles Benson had made the flight down Wednesday morning to survey the destruction first hand. Gordian was going to be blamed for not securing the Liebherr and allowing it to be used as a battering ram, and he had the ultimate responsibility. Using cranes, Gordian workers under Grant’s supervision were already stabilizing the water slide it had come to rest against and disassembling the truck for shipment back to the TEC.

  “And you didn’t even get the guy?” Miles said, watching the bed being lifted from the Liebherr. “How the hell did this happen?”

  Locke had returned to the TEC after the crash to assess the damage and investigate how someone had infiltrated the facility. Now he had an even tougher job: answering his boss’s questions. The work was stirring up dust. Locke coughed as if he was hacking up some of the dirt, but he was actually embarrassed by the slip-up.

  “Here’s what we know so far,” Locke said. “We accounted for all of the people who entered the TEC yesterday except for two NTSB investigators. Maricopa County sheriff’s department raided their hotel room. The real investigators were both dead. Shot and put on ice in the bathtub. Do not disturb sign on the door. A quick job that would have passed for a day or two at most.”

  “What did they get?”

  “We matched the hangar’s remaining contents to the G-Tag inventory. They got away with a hard-side suitcase, green, the size of a carry-on. It hadn’t been opened yet by our team, so there’s no way to know what was inside.”

  “Why bring so much attention to themselves?”

  “I don’t think that plane was meant to make it back to the US. They expected it to go down at sea. That’s the only reason I can guess as to why they made such a risky and hasty plan to get at something in that wreckage. They never thought we’d find it if it crashed in the ocean.”

  “Any leads?”

  ““The medical examiner is still pulling brick chunks out of one of the hijackers. Witnesses at the wave pool saw a man jump into the deep end as the truck passed, but he got away in the confusion. We’re checking to see if any vehicle in the lot was stolen, but that will take a while with all of the flattened cars out there. We’ve got the video from the camera at the TEC front gate. I’m having Aiden MacKenna run it to see if he can make an ID.”

  “They went to a lot of trouble to make sure we didn’t open that suitcase,” Miles said. “And now it’s going to cost us a pretty penny.”

  With a clunk, the dump truck’s enormous bed settled onto a flat bed trailer. Locke could still see part of the hurricane fence clinging to the lip.

  “I’d worry more about their ultimate plans,” he said. “Miles, I know they built a bunker somewhere. They’re planning to use it as an ark. This is all a prelude to something big, and the Genesis Dawn has some part in this.”

  “A field test for the bioweapon?” Miles was as sharp as ever.

  Locke nodded. “Could be. Maybe they were through with lab testing and wanted to see if it actually worked in an uncontrolled environment. The Genesis Dawn will either be another test or their end game. Whoever they are.”

  “The end of the world is at hand,” Miles said in an airy manner. “I just thought that was what crazies printed on pieces of cardboard.”

  “Nobody spends $400 million dollars building a bunker unless they think they might need it someday. In this case, I think they knew they would need it.”

  “Has your new companion, Dr. Kenner, figured out the link with Noah’s Ark yet?”

  “She’s back at the TEC working on it. She’s convinced that her father found the actual Noah’s Ark. That it’s not just a metaphor fo
r the Oasis bunker. She thinks that if we can find it, we might be able to tie all this together. To say the least, I’m not confident.”

  “You don’t believe.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “Come on, Miles. A 400-foot-long wooden ship that survived six millennia and now is part of some madman’s scheme to kill billions of people. You know me. I’m an empiricist. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  “I have to say I’m skeptical as well, but something about Dilara Kenner’s surety in her father…Well, I tend to listen to my gut. Her belief eases my doubts.”

  “And the big wooden ship that should have been rotted to dust by now?”

  “Maybe your skeptical mind is latching on to the wrong thing. You should be asking yourself, how would Noah’s Ark last 6000 years? If you answer that, you might actually find it. And find the perpetrators of this god-awful mess. Now I’ve got a real stake in solving this problem. Gordian’s going to be on the hook for the damage from the Liebherr unless we find someone else to blame.”

  “What about the Genesis Dawn? It sails on its inaugural cruise in two days.”

  “From now on, that’s your responsibility. I’m counting on you to make sure the world is still here next week. Grant will finish up here. I’ll give you a lift back to the TEC. I’ve got a dozen lawyers and insurance adjusters to meet with.”

  As he followed Miles back to the specially-equipped van he could roll into with his IBOT and drive, Locke for once wished his problems were as mundane as talking with attorneys about settling lawsuits. Instead, all he had to do in the next day was come up with a way to find Noah’s Ark, an archaeological treasure that had been hidden since the beginning of recorded history, while preventing the deaths of virtually every person on earth.

  No pressure.

  THIRTY-ONE

  Cutter started explaining to Garrett how, sopping wet, he had eluded the mass of police who had converged on the water park the day before and stole a car that he drove to Tuscon. There, under an assumed name and using falsified documents, he boarded a plane that took him back to Seattle. As they walked back from the Orcas compound’s helipad, Garrett held up his hand to say that was enough. The details of Cutter’s escape were unimportant to him. The fact that he had the suitcase was all that mattered.

  Although the test aboard Hayden’s plane had potentially compromised the whole operation when it turned back to the mainland unexpectedly, he had to consider it a success. It proved that the Arkon-B could be administered in a non-laboratory environment. Now he was assured that the delivery method for Arkon-C for the Genesis Dawn would be equally effective.

  He had considered going ahead with the plan for the cruise ship without testing it first, but that course of action would have been risky. If it hadn’t worked, and the device was discovered prematurely, it would have been difficult to mount a second attempt. Possible, because of his backup facility in Switzerland. The bunker under his castle near Bern was functional, but not nearly as comfortable as Oasis. Once Garrett had realized it would be more efficient to have all of his scientists and followers in one location, he had consolidated everything at Orcas Island and put the Swiss laboratory into hibernation. He could revive it at a later time, but only if necessary.

  “Of course,” Garrett said to Cutter, “this means you can’t accompany me to the Genesis Dawn to activate the device.”

  “I could wear a disguise…” Cutter protested. Garrett understood. Cutter was as eager to be a part of the final operation as Garrett was. But Garrett couldn’t allow anything to jeopardize their plans now.

  “No, you’ll stay. Take care of the preparations here. When I return, we should be ready to button up. Everyone is due to arrive in the next two days. It’s just a matter of double-checking our stores and procedures.”

  “Yes, sir. But what about Locke? Our contact said that he went to Coleman’s office.”

  “That avenue was thoroughly sealed off, both from Coleman’s death, and the subsequent scrubbing of his files. No, without the device, he won’t be able to make a connection to us. I thought Watson might have implicated me directly, which is why I wanted Tyler killed. Now it’s obviously not necessary. Believe me, I know Tyler. If he knew anything remotely close to the truth, he would have come after me by now. He might have a few clues, but nothing that he’ll put together before it’s too late.”

  “And you completely trust our contact?”

  Garrett nodded. “Absolutely. In fact, after I heard about your misadventures in Phoenix, I told him to meet me in Miami. He’ll ensure that the device is activated after I leave.”

  When he had first heard about the Genesis Dawn’s inaugural sailing, Garrett knew it was the perfect way to launch the New World. The official maiden voyage of the world’s largest and most luxurious cruise ship had been booked solid for years, but Garrett used the considerable clout that his billions gave him to rent the biggest suite on the ship. As part of the deal, he had promised to attend the inaugural gala. Going to the party was an annoyance, but the cabin was perfect for his needs, so he had readily agreed.

  The ship would cruise to New York and then on to the major seaports of Europe, where thousands of dignitaries and passengers from around the globe would board to tour the immense vessel or even travel for a few days before disembarking, carrying their tales of the ship back to their home countries.

  The entire itinerary was 40 days exactly. The same 40 days as Noah’s Flood. When Garrett had seen the itinerary, he knew it was a sign. How apt.

  When the passengers left the ship, they would travel through the busiest airports in the world. It was a perfect way to transmit the Arkon-C worldwide in a matter of weeks. By the time anyone realized the true source of the disease, it would be too late. It would have been unwittingly communicated around the world.

  Garrett had been disappointed when he and his scientists had developed Arkon-B, the type he had used for the test on Hayden’s plane. Although it produced the effect he wanted, it worked much too fast. The infected would be quarantined. A few thousand might have been killed. But that wasn’t his plan. He needed a variant that would work more slowly.

  It had taken another year to develop Arkon-C, but it finally allowed him to put his plan for the New World in motion. There was, of course, no cure, so once the Arkon-C was communicated worldwide, nothing would stop it. A few isolated groups might live through the outbreak, but it would be by sheer luck. Garrett’s computer models estimated less than a million survivors worldwide. All he and his followers would have to do was wait it out and emerge as the leaders of the New World.

  Which was why he had put so much of his fortune into building Oasis. His own underground ark. It would forever be known as Garrett’s Ark.

  How ironic, he thought, that finding Noah’s Ark had made his own vision possible. For a brief moment, he had considered releasing news of his discovery to the world, his lifelong dream realized. But the discovery had enabled a new dream, one grander and even more profound. God had seen fit to make him the conduit for rebuilding the earth in his vision.

  He would be the Noah of a new generation. The father of all that would come in the New World. It was a heavy burden, but he knew that God saw something in him that generations would come to venerate.

  The birth of the New World would be painful, as birth often is. Yet he was confident he would be seen as the hero he was, as God’s representative who would usher in a golden era of mankind.

  His companion for the New World, his beloved Svetlana, walked over to him followed by a servant carrying her luggage. She would be there at the gala to toast the beginning of the New World with him.

  “You look happy,” she said. “Are you ready?”

  “Do you realize,” he said, “that we’re about to embark on the greatest journey in history? One even greater than Noah’s.”

  “I do,” she replied. “I’m so excited. But this is the last time I’ll be able to wear an Armani original, so let’s hope it doesn’t rain.�
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  THIRTY-TWO

  Locke returned to the TEC Wednesday afternoon. Aiden hadn’t found the identity of the hijackers in the FBI or military databases yet, so Locke had been running the video of the car going through the TEC’s front gate, trying to find some clue about their identities. Grant Westfield, having finished dismantling the Liebherr, joined him in the screening room, and a disturbing look crossed his face as soon as he saw the video.

  “Son of a bitch,” Grant said.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I know him.”

  “Which one?”

  “The driver. The one that got away. His name is Dan Cutter.”

  “How do you know him?”

  “I served with him in Iraq.”

  “Rangers?”

  Grant sat heavily, the chair creaking under the load. “For about four months. Just long enough to get to know how dirty he played it.”

  This was the first Locke had heard any details about Grant’s troubles in the Army’s special forces detachment. Locke had served in the Army before 9/11 and had returned to his unit as a reservist. In Afghanistan and then Iraq where Locke was a company commander, he had developed a close friendship and rapport with Grant, his first sergeant. Over Locke’s strenuous objections, Grant had been transferred to the Ranger Orientation Program because of his reputation as an electronics whiz, which they desperately needed for special forces. Combined with his combat skills, he was a formidable team member.

  For all Locke knew, everything in Grant’s detachment was going well until two years later, near the time when Grant reached his in-service date. Locke was already out at that point. He thought Grant was going to re-enlist, but something happened that made Grant ask him about getting a job in the real world, so Locke gladly made him a partner at Gordian. Grant had never talked about his Ranger service except for vague references to an incident in Iraq.