by Nick Thacker
Ben frowned. Interesting choice. “That seems expensive,” he said.
Crawford laughed. “We’ve spared no expense here, Mr. Bennett. Hence the luxurious dinner we’ve prepared for our guests this evening. Did I mention the guests downstairs are some of our investors? They are here on a similar tour, but theirs will end in another day. After that, you’ll have the place to yourselves.”
“Better make a good impression on them, I guess,” Ben said.
“Indeed.” Crawford took a sip of his water. “Anyway, the two structures — the central fixed tower and the two floating outer rings — work together to stabilize one another. It saves on energy costs, and it was actually cheaper to build that way.”
“But why not just make both sections — the tower and the rings — float?” Reggie asked.
“Yeah,” Sarah Lindgren jumped in, “seems like you could benefit by moving the entire place around like a giant cruise ship. Take your museum park anywhere in the world.”
Crawford was nodding along. “Yes, yes, we did consider that. It would be quite the accomplishment as well, and — like you said — it would benefit us in terms of mobility. We could relocate in one corner of the globe during the calm season there, dodging any catastrophic weather. Or we could offer different experience packages, much like cruises. Winter in the Caribbean, summer in Alaska or the Antarctic.
“But we had no choice. The scientific branch of OceanTech needed to be here. The institute was built over a shallow section of land off the coast of The Bahamas purposefully, anchored in place.”
Ben looked over at Reggie, watched his friend trying to work it out. Shallow section of land, anchored in place, the ‘tower’ they were in extending both above and below the water. In the middle of a storm-riddled section of the Atlantic.
They were here because OceanTech needed this location.
“What’s here?” Ben asked. “What are we sitting on?”
Crawford’s dimple grew and shrank as the man tried on multiple smiles, finally settling on a flattering one that Ben almost believed. “That, my friend, is the perfect question.”
“OceanTech Institute was designed and built in this precise location because of what lies on the ocean floor directly beneath us. We surveyed and found this spot, and precisely this spot.”
“Because it’s shallow?”
“Because it’s the spot of an old shipwreck. We’re sitting on the wrecked boat right now, ten stories above it.”
19
“THAT WAS ENTERTAINING,” JULIE SAID, sighing heavily as she crashed onto the soft bed. She hadn’t had time to test the mattress, get a feel for the room, earlier, so she was relieved to find that it was every bit as luxurious as their dinner had been, and the rest of the room.
“Crawford’s a character,” Ben said. “That’s for sure. But I like him.”
“Me too,” Julie said. “Seems nice, and definitely passionate about his park.”
“Science park,” Ben corrected, smiling at her. He was removing his shoes and socks, and she knew the shirt would come next. He had little habits like this that she’d learned. Shoes, socks, shirt. Right foot, left foot, shirt. His pants or shorts would either stay on or come off, depending on how cool the room felt. She assumed that here, in a climate-controlled hotel room, they would be coming off.
She wasn’t wrong. Ben stripped to his briefs and plowed down onto his side of the bed. For a fancy mattress, it didn’t do well trying to spread out the impact, and Julie felt herself thrown up into the air a few inches before coming back down again.
“That dinner was amazing,” Ben said.
“I could tell you liked it. You still smell like crab.”
He grinned, picking his teeth.
“And steak. And fish. And chicken.”
“Sorry,” he said. “It was all good.”
“The vegetables were good too. You could've had a few bites of those.”
“Why?” he shot back. “They just take up space where more meat could fit.”
Julie shook her head and looked to her right, trying to find the remote control for the television. She wasn’t particularly interested in watching TV, but she knew it was a ritualistic way of winding down at night. Ben would be out in a few minutes, and she would let the sounds of whatever channel she fell onto persuade her to sleep.
“We should talk,” she suddenly said.
Ben groaned. “I thought we were —”
“You thought we were over it. Ben, come on. You were about to leave me behind on that ship.”
“I never would have left you, Jules. You know that.”
“That’s the point, Ben. You knew I’d come with, even though it wasn’t what I wanted to do.”
Ben shifted up onto an elbow and looked over the bed at her. “You saying you don’t want to be here?”
She rolled her eyes.
“No, seriously. This place is amazing, Julie. Way better than the cruise ship. Nicer — bigger — rooms, fewer people. And my God, the food.”
“I’m not saying it’s not nice, Ben.”
“You’re just saying it’s not what you wanted to do. Got it.”
She huffed, feeling the anger and resentment rush back as if it had not been temporarily calmed for the past few hours.
“What?” Ben asked. “You said you wanted to talk, so let’s —”
“Just forget it, Ben. It’s not worth it.”
“Jules, I —”
“No. Forget it. You know what, Ben? You’re so caught up in your own personal battles all the time you forget that there are other people around you who care about you.”
He frowned at her, but she held fast. I’m right, she thought. And he knows it.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what I said,” she said. “You don’t care that we’re all here, you just do what you want and hope we come along for the ride.”
“Reggie invited us, remember?”
“Reggie didn’t invite us, Ben. He told us it was a mission. But that’s not the point. You came, and you were going to come whether or not I did. You didn’t even stop to ask me —”
Someone knocked on their door. Light, quick tapping.
“Come on,” Julie said, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and onto the floor. “Can’t he just leave us alone?”
She reached the door and unlocked it, not bothering to look through the peephole. She swung it open, let it hit the wall next to her, the little rubber stopper thudding with the impact.
“Julie?” Ben asked. “Who is it?”
She stared. “I — I don’t know.” She took a step back, slightly, allowing the man at the door to step forward. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Can I help you?”
The man was Asian, short but fit. He looked up at Julie and nodded. “I hope so.” His accent was perfect American. “I truly hope so. But there’s not much time.”
Julie frowned. Do I invite him in? She shook her head, talking herself out of it. Should I go into the hall? What if he attacks me? Is there something I can use as a weapon, or —
“I need you to help me,” the man said. “Right now. Please. I need to get out of the park. We can take the Subshuttle to the opposite bank, and then to the helipad, if you would just call your pilot and —”
“I’m sorry,” Julie said again. “I don’t know… I’m not sure —”
“Please,” the man said, stressing the word more this time. “There’s not much time. They’ll be here any minute, and you were the closest occupied room to —”
“Who is it?” Ben called out again.
“Hang on!” Julie yelled. That was stupid, she thought. I should have asked him to come over here.
She didn’t need to, however. She heard Ben groan again and start walking over to the door.
The man flicked his head left and right, frantically, peering down the hallway in both directions. If he heard something, Julie couldn’t tell. He swallowed, then looked back up at her. There was a mo
ment they matched expressions, both frantic, scared. Then Julie shifted back to confusion, the man to frustration. He looked both ways once more, stopping with his head bent looking to his left.
“Too late,” he whispered. “Too late. They’re here.”
The man shifted, changing his approach. He pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to Julie.
It was a smartphone. The screen lit up as he placed the object in her hand, then shut off again.
“What?” she asked. “Who’s here? And what am I supposed to do with this?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Listen to me — are you listening? Listen. Not enough time, but you’ll need…” he looked again to the left, then back at Julie. “You need the number. 0-4-0-3-0-2. Got it?”
She started to repeat it just as Ben reached the door. “What’s up?” he asked. He saw the man, but the man had already turned and was heading down the hall, to his right. Julie watched him for a moment. She could hear his breaths, loud and erratic. Then the man picked up his pace and started running.
Frantically.
20
REGGIE OPENED THE DOOR TO his hotel room with an audible sigh. Just when I was about to pour a glass of wine, he thought. He let the door swing open and moved to the side to allow Julie and Ben to step through.
He wasn’t much of a wine drinker, but he had found a bottle of red in the mini fridge hidden behind a cabinet door near the closet. After dinner he had found himself in an unusually wine-focused mood.
Ben nodded a quick greeting, but Julie headed straight for the glass wall at the back of the room, aiming toward the armchair there.
“Come on in, I guess,” Reggie said. “Don’t… call first or anything.”
Ben ignored the remark, but Julie was already talking. “The guy was Asian, but sounded American. Probably grew up in the states…”
She stopped when she realized that Reggie wasn’t the only other person in the room.
“H — hello,” the woman said. Reggie walked back into the room just as Ben noticed the woman as well.
“Dr. Lindgren?” Julie asked.
“Sorry, Reggie and I were about to —”
“Enjoy this bottle of fine California red, a merlot and Cabernet blend,” Reggie said.
“We were about to talk,” Sarah clarified.
Julie glanced at Ben, but Ben was just looking at the woman, stretched out on Reggie’s bed. She was fully clothed, but she had changed and was now wearing jean shorts and a gray sweatshirt that said ‘Jamaica’ across the front in multi-colored lettering.
Reggie cleared his throat. “Of course. She and I were chatting in the hall but I knew there was more to drink here in the room. Plus it was more comfortable.”
“What… what were you talking about?” Julie asked.
“The mission, actually,” Sarah answered abruptly. “I asked about the CSO and how you all came to be together, and about your previous missions.”
Ben walked over to the other armchair and sat, leaving Reggie to pace around the room. The end of the bed was open, but he knew there was already a bit of a stigma in the air, and he didn’t want to inspire any further questions from his teammates.
“And she told me how she came to be a part of this mission as well,” Reggie said. He walked back over to the bottle of wine he had just opened, still sitting on the countertop.
“Mind if you repeat some of that for our sake?” Ben asked. “I’m not sure we know the details.”
Julie cut in. “Well, actually, I think that needs to wait, right Ben?”
The couple looked at each other, and Ben nodded. “Right. Uh, so there was…”
“An incident,” Julie finished.
“An incident?” Sarah asked.
Reggie walked over to the bed and handed Sarah one of the two glasses of wine. “You two want anything?”
Julie shook her head. “Is there whiskey in there?” Ben asked.
Reggie walked over to check while Julie continued their story. “This man, the Asian guy, he was all frantic and scared. In a huge hurry. Not sure why he knocked on our door, but I answered it and he told us he didn’t ‘have much time,’ and that we needed ‘the number.’”
“The number?”
“0-4-0-3-0-2,” Julie and Ben said simultaneously.”
“Interesting,” Reggie said.
“Weird,” Sarah added.
“What is the number for?” Reggie asked.
“This, probably.” Julie picked the man’s phone out of her pocket and held it up. “I haven’t tried it, but it’s probably the lockscreen combination.”
Everyone stopped and thought for a moment. Reggie walked over to Ben and handed him what he had found in the fridge. Two airline-sized bottles of Wild Turkey bourbon. Not bad, not great. Ben thanked him and twisted the cap off the first one.
“Let’s see it, then,” Reggie said. “Open it up, Jules.”
Reggie watched Julie fumble with the extra-large phone for a moment, swinging it around in her hand until it sat comfortably in her palm. She held her thumb up, prepared to type in the combination.
A light tapping came from the door. Reggie walked over and looked through the hole. “Crawford,” he said.
He opened the door and held it, the gap just wide enough that he could block the man from seeing inside. “Crawford, good to see you again. I’d invite you inside, but —”
Crawford cut him off by holding up a hand. “Thank you, Mr. Red, but that won’t be necessary. I’m in a bit of a hurry, actually, and I just wanted to check with the four of you about something. Dr. Lindgren wasn’t in her room, however, so I —”
“They all went on a walk, I believe. Or at least an elevator ride. I’m not sure, but I think they were just taking a stroll to see the premises.”
“Fine, fine. Very well. I’ll keep an eye out for them, and if you see them just pass this along.”
“Of course. What can I help you with?”
“I’m wondering if you’ve seen a man, Asian-looking, a bit shorter than me?”
Reggie shook his head. “No, I apologize. I’ve been in my room since dinner.”
“Right. Well, it is of the upmost importance that we track him down.”
Reggie frowned. “Why? Is he dangerous?”
“Oh, no, no,” Crawford said. “He is quite harmless, he’s just… well, we’re afraid he might be… you know, it’s really nothing. I would just ask that you let me know immediately if you happen across him.”
Reggie nodded. “Absolutely. You have my word. If I see him I’ll be sure to call it in. And I’ll let my group know as well, if I see them first.”
Crawford looked solemn. “Thank you, Mr. Red. I hope you are enjoying your stay thus far?”
“It’s amazing. Well done, Crawford. This place is truly breathtaking.”
Crawford’s smile came back, the dimple pressing into Reggie’s vision as if was a dimple with a face attached instead of the other way around. “Good, good. Thank you for your time, and I’m sorry again to disturb you.”
Reggie thanked him and closed the door. He walked back into the center of the room.
“Okay, folks,” he said, addressing the three people seated on the bed and chairs. “Time to put our heads together. Sounds like we’ve got ourselves a mystery here.”
21
“BUT WHY WOULD HE COME to us?” Julie asked. She was sitting on her feet in the armchair, curled up into her clothes. She was cold for some reason, even though Reggie kept his own room a few degrees warmer than theirs. Ben sat next to her, stretched out with his legs wide, his right knee nearly touching her left.
Sarah Lindgren was still on the bed, but she had bunched her bare legs up and tucked them beneath her so Reggie could sit on the bottom half of the bed.
“Yeah,” Sarah said. “Why not go to the police, or whatever it is they have here?”
Ben and Reggie exchanged a glance. “We have reason to believe that wouldn’t have been a smart move,” Reggie said. “
The, uh, security here is not exactly… aboveboard.”
“Aboveboard?”
“Trustworthy.”
“I know what you mean, but why? You’ve got experience with them?”
Ben sniffed, Reggie looked around the room. Julie decided to jump in. “Yes, we do,” she said softly. “The group protecting the park is called Ravenshadow. They were the group that chased us over the Lewis and Clark trail, and in Philadelphia.”
“They’re the ones that killed your friend,” Sarah said. It wasn’t a question as much as a statement of fact.
“Yes,” Reggie said. “Joshua Jefferson. They murdered him in cold blood, and they would have killed all of us. They got away, but our director, Mr. E, tracked them here. We came to find their leader, Vicente Garza.”
Sarah looked half shocked and half puzzled. “Okay, makes sense, I guess. I reached out to your director as well, but, like I was telling you earlier, I’m just here to follow up on some research I’ve been doing.”
Ben shifted in his chair and leaned forward. “We do a lot better together when all the information’s on the table. I hope you don’t mind repeating yourself for our sake.”
“No, not at all. Reggie and I had just started, anyway. He told me a bit about the group you were trying to find here, but I didn’t realize it was the contracted security force. And I told him that I was following up on a lead I found in an online article.”
“An online article?” Julie asked. “Something on a blog, or Wikipedia?”
“No, a journal, actually. Peer-reviewed, usually. The type of stuff that usually makes the rounds at universities, publishing stuff the vast majority of the public doesn’t care anything about.”
“So a bit more trustworthy than just a blog, then,” Ben said.
“Exactly. The article was pulled, though. About an hour after it was published.”
