Beyond the Sea--An Event Group Thriller

by David L. Golemon

  “Lord Durnsford, what brings you to Royal Navy jail?”

  After taking Jack’s hand, the career intelligence man looked around the room, not understanding. Then he smiled and then chortled at Collins’s American humor.

  “Royal Navy jail. Very good, Colonel, very good. But as you can see, just a boring little office filled with boring little men.” The portly nobleman nodded at a curious Everett and a suspicious Farbeaux. “I see our help in the recapture of this scallywag has paid off handsomely?” he said, smiling toward Farbeaux.

  “Yeah, but in all actuality, Colonel Farbeaux holds a special place in our president’s heart, and ours also.”

  “Yes, it seems we all owe a debt to many men and women—you and the captain here being two more of them. Gentlemen,” he said as he walked over and sat down in a chair and folded his fingers into themselves as he smiled uncomfortably. He reached into his coat pocket and produced a message flimsy and handed it to Jack. “That message explains to you the little mess science has recently, or not so recently, gotten us into.”

  Collins exchanged looks with Carl and Henri. They both appeared to be listening, but both were also suspicious of one of the more brilliant spies in world history. One just never knew where it was Her Majesty’s intelligence services were coming from.

  “Mess?” Jack asked.

  “Yes, a rather big mess we haven’t quite figured out yet. Now, we here at MI6 know you are on detached service, Colonel, and you will never divulge your real duties to your country, but let’s just say we have suspected for quite some time who and what government entity you really work for.”

  “I’m in the army, he’s in the navy, and he…” He paused when Henri smiled at him, waiting. “He, is, well, he just is.”

  “Yes, of course you are.” His smile faded as he became serious. He leaned forward to emphasize what it was he was about to say. “What would you say, Colonel, that if we were to go digging into files from the old Soviet regime, and even in today’s rather aggressive Russian administration, we here in British intelligence may possibly have discovered an outfit that, not unlike the one you claim not to work for, and one that even rivals my own entity in this country, is quite active within the Russian government and has been for over eighty years? An entity run completely autonomously and without fear of Russian leadership?”

  “I would say MI6 knows a little too much about friendly governments and not enough about the aggressive ones.” Jack didn’t care for British intelligence’s rather extensive guesswork on the Event Group.

  “Good show, old boy. Good point.” He lost the smile. “Now, what would you say if one of the leadership of this mysterious group was now on his way to the very spot where the NATO resupply exercise Operation Reforger IV was just canceled, and they were heading there at high speed with one of the more lethal commando teams the world has ever seen in their company?”

  “I would say let them fly off. What are they going to find, dumped garbage from the warships that had been in the area?” Carl chimed in, but he did sit up in his chair a little more erect.

  “Normally, we would just observe, but this is not a normal situation as described by your president and your think tank under his leadership that is buried in some godforsaken desert somewhere, and the United States Navy, and all of NATO Northern Command.” Lord Durnsford stood up from his chair and placed his hands behind his back as he faced the Frenchman. “The president of the United States is calling in that favor, Colonel Farbeaux.”

  “You mean calling in that favor for the fifth time in three years?” Henri said with a dirty look at Jack. “Owing him or any of these people is like owing money to the American mob: you never pay off that debt.”

  “Yes, very good, Colonel. Now, it seems the security leadership of this mysterious Russian group, based somewhere we believe in the deepest, darkest, very much frozen wastelands of Siberia, has encountered you on more than one occasion. It seems you were even in this group’s custody at one point. Perhaps you know of whom I speak? Please, share what you know with Colonel Collins and Captain Everett. It may just come in handy.”

  Henri allowed his breath to escape with a hiss as he angrily looked at the British intelligence man in his tweed suit and bow tie. He knew exactly who this man was referring to, and he didn’t like the memory of the man at all. He faced both Jack and Carl.

  “There are rumors around which the United States, Great Britain, and Russia, possibly Germany also, have a deep closet of historical secrets. Maybe you have heard these rumors?” He looked at Collins with a crooked grin. “I can clearly state that the Russian element is in fact a reality, among other groups, that is.” He looked from Jack to Lord Durnsford. “This group, unlike the rumors toward others, is a ruthless entity and is a smaller part of a whole. The intelligence services of the United States, Great Britain, France, and Germany have long suspected that the whole is in charge of the parts. In other words, gentlemen, this group of men, from their varying departments within the government, actually runs the Russian state and have for the past eighty years, more so as perestroika moved forward. The freedoms the Russian people thought they were getting were all a sham.”

  “You mean Putin and the politburo aren’t in charge?” Carl asked as if Farbeaux were joking. He could tell by Lord Durnsford that Henri’s words had the spark of truth behind them, which made Everett’s normally strong body feel ill. “I mean, in general conversation, why didn’t you ever say anything?”

  Farbeaux looked at Carl with a questioning glare. “Just what would have been the benefit to myself for doing so, Captain?” He said the word Captain as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.

  “The head of this Russian group’s intelligence, their security arm, is a man whom you may have met, Colonel Farbeaux. A ruthless individual who was trained by the true leadership cast of this underground organization to this group, and one man in particular whom we have yet to identify. We here at MI6 believe he is responsible for this mirror group and acts as the internal security for all of them combined.”

  “I don’t know his employers or this mysterious group’s governing body you speak of. But a Russian I once heard of murdered an entire town in the Ukraine for hiding state artifacts after the fall of the Soviet Union. If it’s the man I am thinking of, yes, I did meet him once. In deference to my two American friends here, the man is the most capable killer and guardian of Russian history and state secrets I have ever heard of. He will kill children to keep the world from knowing what it is they know. Yes, he is a man who makes the world a ruthless and hateful place. And also a man I care never to meet again.”

  “The very gentleman of whom it is I speak. Colonel Farbeaux, I’m afraid I have some bad news for you, sir. The president, in conjunction with the British prime minister and NATO command, has activated your temporary military status to active duty, and said status has been affirmed by Paris. You are now, once more, attached to the United States and British armed forces. You are to accompany Colonel Collins and Captain Everett on a joint NATO mission to recover something this mysterious Russian group may have lost. You will have no trouble finding this lost item, since your navy has just now begun to take her in tow in the North Atlantic. Your specific orders, Colonel, are to identify this man for Captain Everett and Colonel Collins during their mission to observe naval assets in the area and the mysterious circumstances surrounding what is now happening.”

  The three men remained quiet as Lord Durnsford smiled down at the seated officers. Another message flimsy was produced by the British master spy. This one he again handed to Jack. He read.

  “Are you joking?”

  “We here at MI6 never have developed that sense of humor you Americans so readily ascribe to. No, no joke, Colonel.”

  Jack handed the message to Carl.

  “Proceed by military transport to confidential location and recover war matériel currently in NATO possession. Said war matériel is a derelict, and NATO has declared provenance and has initiated sa
lvage rights over its discovery. You and your selected group will proceed to said undisclosed location, investigate, and determine if this war material should be considered a threat to the national security of NATO treaty nations.” Carl looked up from the flimsy. “Signed, Compton, advisory board chairman to the president on military and international affairs.”

  None of the three men made comment about the disguised cover for their own director.

  “Okay, what’s up, Lord Durnsford?” Collins asked as Henri stood and paced, not liking where this thing was going. “And why Henri? We could just get a description and go from there.”

  “Colonel Farbeaux’s one job is to identify this man for our governments, and if at all possible, one of you three will kill him. Circumstances as to why this assassination is necessary will be readily apparent upon meeting this psychopath. I stress, Colonel Farbeaux, only if you can identify this man as the Butcher of Kharkov.”

  “And us?” Everett asked.

  “You, Captain and Colonel, will be in charge of a boarding party that will secure said war matériel. The final part of your instructions is to make sure Colonel Farbeaux follows his orders and, if need be, fulfill the directive as described in your orders.”

  “You said this matériel was just taken in tow. Are we speaking about a ship?” Jack asked.

  “Yes, we are, Colonel. A very large and even stranger ship than you could ever believe. A ship that was sunk during World War II and is now making a reappearance in the North Atlantic at a most inopportune time.”

  “And why would this Russian murderer be there?” Everett beat Jack to the burning question.

  “Because”—Lord Durnsford grinned broadly—“this particular ship belongs to the Russian Navy, and they have sent their number-one killer and his mysterious group to recover it. All our little puzzle pieces have now fit together somewhat nicely thanks to some highly questionable purloining of information from a very inquisitive source and his equally criminal computer somewhere within your national borders.”

  “Oh, that’s just great,” Carl mumbled as he sat down. He didn’t go on to say they were now headed into danger thanks to a twentysomething kid and his maniacal new girlfriend named Europa.

  “Yes, yes, it is great, Captain, as that may be the most important ship ever to set sail in the history of the world.” He smiled broadly. “You see, we believe, as do your own higher management, that this ship is only the second vessel in history to have gone to, and returned from, another dimension.”

  The three men exchanged looks. After what they had just gone through to return Carl to this world, they had no doubt that this older scientific achievement had really taken place, and that was the reason why they all felt ill at that very moment.

  “Gentlemen, the rest of your team will join you here shortly. They are taking a very fast aircraft and will arrive on time. Once you’ve breached Tildy, you can join the fun there with a squad of Her Majesty’s Royal Marines traveling with you.” Lord Durnsford walked to the door and opened it to leave.

  “Who is Tildy?” the Frenchman asked.

  “Why, it’s only the bloodiest, most hair-raising hurricane in the past five years. Good luck, gentlemen.”

  Henri sat hard into a chair.

  “My distaste for you has grown exponentially with every experience I have ever shared with you two … gentlemen.”

  5

  ANDREWS AIR FORCE BASE

  WASHINGTON, D.C.

  After the mission briefing explaining what it was Compton expected from the security man, the cryptozoologist, and the engineer on what their duties were to be once they joined with Jack and the others, none of them were feeling very perky after the supersonic flight from the western United States to Washington. Master Chief Jenks was beside the hangar, throwing up his early morning breakfast. Charlie Ellenshaw would wince every time the engineer heaved. He shook his head as he turned to face Jason Ryan, who was saying farewell to the second pilot to have flown them from Nellis Air Force Base in Nevada to the East Coast. Those two aircraft and the speed at which they got to Washington were the reasons for Jenks’s upset stomach. Ryan looked from the second pilot, after shaking his hand, to the F-15E Strike Eagle he had used to fly the master chief supersonic over the continental United States. The double-seat fighter had made life rough for Jenks. As for Ellenshaw, Ryan had learned that nothing of a mechanical fear ever entered into the cryptozoologist’s mind.

  Ryan slowly pulled his flight suit off, and Ellenshaw did the same. He looked at Jenks and smiled.

  “Ready for round two, Master Chief?”

  Jenks wiped his mouth and then unzipped his flight suit. “What do you mean?”

  At that moment, a large hangar door started to slide open. The bright sunshine of the dying evening illuminated an amazing sight as the giant aircraft was rolled out of his hidden lair.

  “Oh, shit,” Jenks mumbled. “You flyboys and your damnable toys.”

  “Wow,” was all Charlie could manage.

  Ryan, disappointed that he wouldn’t be flying on this leg of their journey, was just as stunned as his companions when he saw the supersonic bomber as it rolled free of the hangar. The B-1b Lancer bomber was an evil-looking aircraft if Ryan had ever seen one. Its sleek design made her identifiable to any aggressive nation that this bird meant serious business.

  “Gentlemen, our ride awaits. We should be in England in under two hours.”

  Over the sound of the Lancer’s engines spooling up, they once more heard Master Chief Jenks as he again dry heaved in anticipation of another record-setting flight—this time over the Atlantic.

  LOS ANGELES–CLASS ATTACK SUBMARINE USS HOUSTON

  NORTH ATLANTIC

  The closer Houston got to the hurricane’s eye, the calmer the seas became. That was the break they had been waiting for as Captain Thorne looked at the video screen whose picture was being provided by their own periscope. Technically, he was in command of this maneuver, and he was watching with fear etched on his face as the Aegis battle cruiser USS Shiloh fought the diminishing swells as they battled with the somewhat calmer eye of Hurricane Tildy. He watched nervously as the eight-man rigging team had scrambled aboard the derelict Russian vessel Simbirsk. The team had successfully managed to get the tow cable attached with only one moment of sheer terror involved when one of the Shiloh’s crewmen almost went overboard when one of the larger swells of green sea had swept over the deck of Simbirsk. Thorne exhaled as did most crewmen on the bridge as the two ships were finally mated.

  “XO, send out the order again to Captain Johnson on board Shiloh. The riggers are not to enter the interior of the ship. They are to await our team arriving from England.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Thorne turned back to the video monitor and spied the activity aboard the Russian ship. It looked as if the cable had been strung and the Shiloh began the slow move from the perimeter of Tildy to its exact center. The eye of the hurricane would protect them well enough if the course of the bad weather didn’t suddenly change. He saw on the monitor the powerful turbines of the Shiloh spring to life. His eyes went to the other two escorts as they took up station in front of and behind Shiloh.

  “Okay, let’s button her up and observe. Chief of the Boat, take her down to two hundred and get us on a pace with our surface assets.”

  “Aye. Give me ten degrees down bubble and bring her up to four knots.”

  The command was passed, and Houston once more went deep. Thorne took the 1 MC mic from the stanchion.

  “To all crew, this is the captain. For the duration, we will be running silent. We fully expect company on this little foray, and we don’t need to let them know that we are here. Sonar, conn.”

  “Conn, sonar,” came the reply.

  “I fully expect any visitor to come from the northeast. They may have a submerged asset accompanying them. Keep your ears sharp, no surprises.”

  “Conn, sonar, aye.”

  “Chief of the Boat, as soon as we set
tle in, I want Houston to belly up to the Simbirsk and get real cozy with her underside. I figure it’s a good place to hide. To the rest of the crew, we will be deep for the next hour, so let’s get some hot food in our bellies and some rest.”

  As the deck angled sharply downward, the crew of USS Houston knew they wouldn’t have the appetite for the hot food nor the rest the captain had just ordered.

  Apprehension of Russian warships bearing down on them through the raging temper of Hurricane Tildy had dulled their sensations of hunger and weariness.

  EVENT GROUP COMPLEX

  NELLIS AIR FORCE BASE, NEVADA

  Dr. Niles Compton waited outside the classroom. He looked at the digital clock in the hallway and then felt Will Mendenhall beside him. Niles nodded at Will and then gestured by his nod toward the classroom directly across from the one he was standing next to. Will went, and he too waited.

  A soft chime sounded, and the classrooms along the long and winding corridor opened, and associates of the Group exited. The military and civilian personnel smiled and conversed in soft tones until their eyes fell upon the director. It was as if high school students suddenly came upon the principal. Most hurried past with a worried glance back. Will Mendenhall smiled at the effect the director had on the newer people. He was rather intimidating with his eye patch and glasses that covered only his good eye. He was scary before with just the knowledge of his brilliance; now, it was both his appearance and his brain.

  Niles waited until the classroom was empty and then strode inside. Sarah McIntire was there putting her teaching materials into a briefcase when she saw the director walk in.

  “What brings you down to level eighteen, Doctor? A little brushup on geologic formations?”

  Niles placed his hands into his pants pockets and smiled. “Unless it has something to do with the cave system around us caving in, I’ll leave the expert stuff to you.”

  Sarah smiled and then snapped the clasps to her case closed.

  “You have a minute?”