Killer Thrillers Box Set: 3 Techno-Thriller, Action/Adventure Science Fiction Thrillers

by Nick Thacker

  Wayne tossed the gun aside and dove toward the chopper.

  Whittenfield backed toward the helicopter, hobbling on one foot as he tried to maneuver both himself and Corinne into the open bay door.

  Cole was there to meet them — he kicked Whittenfield just below the chin, launching the man backwards. Corinne broke free and ran to give Bryce a hand.

  Wayne moved toward the front of the chopper and grabbed the pilot by his collar.

  “You work for me now! Get this thing off the ground!” he shouted to the overwhelmed old pilot. The man, unarmed, put up no fight.

  Bryce and Corinne entered the hovering helicopter and Bryce turned to close the door. Before the door closed, he saw Whittenfield scrambling for his gun. He picked it up, stood, and faced the helicopter, only ten feet away.

  He lifted the pistol at arm’s length with both hands, aiming directly at the open door.

  And fired.

  Bryce felt the impact of the bullet before he felt the excruciating pain of tearing flesh. His leg gave out, punctured on the inside of his left thigh, and he fell out of the hovering chopper.

  Wayne lunged forward, but his fingers grasped only air.

  Bryce landed in a dusty heap on the tarmac. He groaned.

  Whittenfield walked menacingly over to him. “Well, Captain Reynolds,” he said as Bryce looked up at him from the ground. “I don’t think this is going to end well for you, my friend.”

  Wayne looked through the cabin for a gun, but Whittenfield yelled at him from the ground. “Stop! Pick anything up and I put a bullet right between his eyes.” He kept his eyes on the three in the chopper, but aimed the gun at Bryce’s head.

  “Your mission was a complete failure — I had to finish it myself! Even Jabari couldn’t get the crystal into my hands!”

  “I knew it,” Bryce said. “You had Madu chasing us from the beginning, didn’t you?”

  “Actually, it was Vilocek who put that into motion,” Whittenfield said. “It just happened to play out rather well for me.”

  “So — the notebooks…” Bryce was confused at how this had all come together. “In Iraq…”

  “I sent the notebook to that camp — eventually to get it into Madu’s hands.”

  “You? But — “

  “For you, Bryce. I needed you. It was all set up; to send your team in, then call off the mortar unit. The Iraqi Guards who took you down were waiting just out of radar distance, and were told to inflict as much nonlethal damage as possible on you.

  “You executed the mission flawlessly. Retrieve the notebook and get compromised — but not killed. I needed someone with something to lose; something to fight for. You were already the perfect soldier, but I needed someone who was in your particular situation at home.”

  “My mother?”

  “Precisely. She was the missing piece. Without the promise of saving her — which, I must unfortunately disclose now, was all a lie — you would have been a loose cannon; jeopardizing the mission.”

  Bryce closed his eyes, trying to calm his fury.

  Bryce felt the chill of pure adrenaline wash over his broken body. He chuckled under his breath, his eyes closed.

  “Are you laughing?” Whittenfield asked. “What in God’s name could be funny? You’re lying on the ground with a gun to your head. Your friends can’t help you, and you can’t help yourself! Your mother’s not going to be saved — it’s over!” Whittenfield began to yell as he grew more and more agitated.

  Bryce opened his eyes.

  “Whittenfield,” Bryce said. “You think you have this figured out, but you’re wrong. When we spoke on the phone on the way — you remember that?”

  Whittenfield frowned, still pointing the gun at Bryce. “Of course. What of it?”

  “I never mentioned to you who was chasing us — Madu Jabari. I simply told you his first name, and that there was an envelope with his initials on it.”

  Whittenfield stiffened. “So what? You knew about his involvement then?”

  “That’s when I suspected you were up to something. It’s all coming together for me now — the crystal, Vilocek, Madu Jabari. It’s all played right into your hand. You hoped to pit all of us against each other, and then make off with the final prize. A good plan, actually, but one I think you’ve miscalculated.”

  “And how might that be, Captain Reynolds?”

  “My mother — you weren’t watching her — “

  “And why would I! We had no intention — hell, no possible way to save her!” Whittenfield shouted.

  “I know that, now. And obviously you have no idea that she’s already dead.” Bryce responded.

  Whittenfield stopped. Wayne, listening to the conversation through his in-ear radio, was also stunned.

  Whittenfield backed up a few steps. Bryce pushed painfully to his feet — leaning heavily to the right, trying to keep from putting too much weight on his leg. He stood and faced Whittenfield.

  “I found out on the flight here. Linda told me. My mother’s gone. I — I guess I knew it was coming, I just wasn’t ready for it.” Bryce almost stumbled over his words — it was the first time he’d admitted, out loud, that his mother was gone, and the words stung harder than he’d hoped. “Either way, you don’t have anything on me now — you’re on your own now, Whittenfield.”

  “That’s bullshit. And even if you are telling the truth, I own you. You think anyone’s going to listen to you? Who do you think you are?” Whittenfield sounded desperate, almost pleading.

  “Your biggest bargaining chip is gone, Whittenfield.”

  Whittenfield knew it was over. Bryce had proven to be more of a threat than he’d initially realized.

  “But — the money…“ he stammered.

  “I don’t want your money,” Bryce said. “You’ve transferred enough to me already; enough to last for a while. The rest, well, I’ll get it later if I need it.”

  “Later? What the hell are you talking about, Bryce?” Whittenfield snapped back.

  Bryce hobbled a step forward. He was staring down the barrel of the pistol now, still held in Whittenfield’s outstretched arm. He wasn’t afraid of being shot, but he sensed that Whittenfield wouldn’t — couldn’t — pull the trigger anyway. “I’m taking everything. The company, your research, the lab — you don’t deserve it. I’m taking it and opening it to the world.

  “All that talk of being philanthropic; of ‘the good of society;’ it’s a charade. But I’ll change that. Everything we’ve discovered here, and everything you’ve done — good and bad — will be revealed.”

  It was Whittenfield’s turn to laugh. “Really? Taking it? How do you think you’re going to take an entire company from me?” he asked. His hand wavered, and in the split second it dropped Bryce lashed out and caught Whittenfield’s arm. The gun tumbled away, landing under the helicopter. Bryce winced at the pain the movement had caused him, but he recovered quickly and looked back up at Whittenfield.

  “Glad you asked.” He nodded at Wayne, and a gunshot flashed from the large man’s hand. Whittenfield’s body lifted completely off the ground and he flew backwards onto the tarmac. The gunshot hit him in the chest, but he was protected by a bulletproof vest.

  Bryce stepped forward and stood over Whittenfield. “We’re leaving you here. Your crystal is going to break down completely at any moment, and I don’t want to be on this island — or anywhere near it — when that happens.” He reached out with his arm and caught the edge of the hovering helicopter’s landing rail. The three passengers inside the chopper stepped out and grabbed Bryce, pulling him safely inside the cabin.

  Whittenfield found the pistol that had been knocked out of his hand and started shooting upwards at the helicopter. Bryce turned from the gunshots and listened to them bounce harmlessly off the helicopter’s belly.

  A flash of blue light caught his attention. Cole stood next to him at the edge of the helicopter’s door. His skin was glowing with the blue hue, and in his outstretched arms they could see
a growing, pulsating orb — like the one they’d seen in the temple library.

  “Cole? How — how are you doing that?” Corinne asked.

  Bryce stepped to the side. The pilot was ascending slowly, now fifteen feet off the ground, while bullets still pinged the bottom of the craft.

  Cole squinted in anger and turned his hands.

  The small orb dropped from the helicopter, straight down — onto Whittenfield.

  The older man was stunned, unsure of what was falling from above. He stared at it, forgetting about the fleeing helicopter, as the orb made contact with his face.

  The reaction was as instantaneous as it had been with the Israeli, though this time Bryce felt no obligation to put the man out his misery. They watched in solemn silence as the shock of the mysterious crystal properties reacted with Whittenfield’s body, causing a slow internal burn that slowly killed him.

  Whittenfield fell back to the ground, writhing in agony, and the helicopter tilted away from the scene below.

  As the doors shut, Bryce shouted over the noise to Cole. “Ok, what was that? How did you do that?”

  “Just like before — in the presence of the crystal, I’m able to, like, summon it or something.” He replied.

  “But there’s no — “ Bryce stopped as he saw Wayne’s ear-to-ear grin.

  “Sorry boss — I forgot to mention that. Back in the volcano, I was reaching for Vilocek’s gun. I also found this —“ he reached into his pocket and pulled out the object. “And I guess it’s strong enough to let Cole do his thing,” he finished, handing the small sliver to Bryce.

  Bryce looked at the tiny sliver, glowing blue with a shimmering light. So we will be able to finish their research, he thought. He closed his eyes and thought through the last 72 hours. There were holes to fill, for sure, but he had a pretty good idea of what was left to unravel with the crystal. And he had some friends from his college days who would be grateful at the opportunity to work on such an esteemed research project.

  Corinne approached him from the opposite side of the cabin. “Bryce, I couldn’t hear everything you were saying out there, but I don’t understand something. You told Whittenfield you were ‘taking everything?’ What did you mean by that?”

  Wayne looked up at the pair as well. “Yeah. Whittenfield Research isn’t a public company.”

  “Right — but what he didn’t realize was that when he gave me the advance after we first met, it effectively made me the highest-paid executive officer of his organization, after Whittenfield himself.”

  “Who’s now, I guess, out of the picture?”

  “Exactly. As such, I now have the responsibility to hire a replacement. I’m not allowed to advance to the role myself, but I can appoint someone else — someone who would be able to carry on the research arm of the company.” He winked at Corinne as he said this.

  Corinne thought about this a moment, then her eyes widened in understanding. Cole also nodded his approval.

  “Ms. Banks, you’ve been through a few pretty traumatic days. Why don’t you take a week or so to tie up any loose ends at the university, then give me a call. I think I might have a job opening very soon,” Bryce said.

  She jumped forward to hug Bryce, but stopped short as she remembered his wound. “Thank you, thank you! Yes, I accept!” she said, elated.

  He went over the plans with the group — Cole would gladly help out with the non-invasive experimentation, things like studying the ability to weaponize the crystal’s energy and help with the mental and physical attributes that he possessed. They’d take a few weeks off first, and then hit the ground running on the project.

  He opened his eyes. In the distance, he could see the volcano spilling smoke from its top, slowly awakening from its long-time slumber. Bryce turned to the others in the cabin.

  Wayne held the watch his brother Jeff had given him three years ago; tears welling up in his eyes.

  Cole had his arm over Corinne, her head on his shoulder. Cole was looking out the other window while he played with a lock of Corinne’s hair.

  Finally, Bryce looked down to the sliver of crystal in his hand. They could make so much money from this object — the possibilities were virtually endless. What Vilocek — and eventually Whittenfield — had seen in it was all true. It was capable of so much; such a powerful piece of science.

  But the world wasn’t ready for this.

  Bryce knew how easily one could be swayed; blinded. He had seen it firsthand, and he knew that not even he could prevent it from eventually corrupting someone else. They had the research; the methodologies. They had the resources and the minds to create and learn — they didn’t need this crystal.

  He opened the bay door and dropped the crystal out.

  It sank through the air, disappearing as it blended into the pure blue of the sea below.

  He had just saved the world — for a while, at least.

  The

  DEPTHS

  BLANK

  PROLOGUE

  "HELLO?" JEN ANSWERED THE PHONE in an agitated, yet confused tone. Who was calling at this hour? It was past ten o'clock on a Wednesday night, and Jen normally would have been pouring herself a glass of red wine before bed.

  No response.

  Again, she spoke into the cellphone. Louder and more direct this time. "Hello?" She heard shuffling on the other end; fumbling. Then a breathy sound.

  It sounded like breathing, but no words were spoken. She frowned, taking her phone from her ear and pressing "End." The number flashed once—an unknown caller—and then was replaced by the home screen.

  Weird, she thought. It must have been a wrong number or an accidental dial. Her son, twelve-year-old Reese, would have called it a "butt dial" or something like that. She laughed to herself, placing the phone back into her coat pocket.

  A gust of brisk February air forced Jen to walk faster. Her car was on the other end of the commuter lot, a five-minute walk from the campus. After tonight's lecture, she'd stayed late answering questions and grading some papers before leaving the darkened halls of the Massachusetts Maritime Academy.

  Mark Adams, her husband, hadn't called, meaning everything with Reese was going well. She expected Mark to be dropping their son off at her place tomorrow after work, though she knew he'd be about an hour late, as usual.

  The lot was dark. Only a few dim streetlights bathed the black asphalt in a drab yellow glow. She could hear her heels—an unfortunate necessity for tonight's formal lecture—clicking on the hard pavement, but no other sounds interrupted her thoughts.

  She was tired.

  She'd been awake for almost thirty-six hours researching, planning, teaching, and finally delivering the lecture she'd spent months on. It had been received well, to thundering applause from scientists, professors, and a few higher-level graduate students. She was proud of herself, but it was time to sleep.

  The small Honda Accord appeared out of the darkness as she approached. Man, how long have I been here? she thought, noticing the water streaks of a long-gone mist dried on her windshield. The top of the silver sedan was covered in a shining glitter of frozen specks, remnants of the brief snowfall they'd had earlier that day.

  She reached into her other coat pocket, looking for her keys. Her cellphone chirped again and began vibrating.

  Again? Who is it this time? she thought as she saw another unknown number flash on the screen.

  "Hello?" she called into the phone, this time her annoyance coming through in her voice.

  "Jen? Hey. It's Mark."

  She reached her car door and frowned. A shadow danced behind her, and its reflection on the window caused her to jump. She whipped around, not knowing what to expect.

  The lights were playing tricks on her. A cat, bounding across the parking lot chasing some unknown prey, disappeared behind an SUV. She let out a sigh and spoke again into the phone.

  "Mark? Hi — sorry... it came up as an unknown number. What's up? Everything okay?"

  "Well, no, Jen. Yo
u need to come over here. Hurry. It's Reese."

  Her heart immediately began to rise in her throat. Of all the calls she hoped she'd never get... She grabbed at her keys, hands shaking, this time clicking the unlock button before they were even out of her pocket.

  The car clicked as it unlocked, and the headlights flashed twice in sequence. She reached for the door, preoccupied with the phone call, her mind racing in terror. "Mark, what happened?" She tried not to panic, telling herself that his asthma must just be flaring up again, or that he had a bad scrape.

  But her motherly instincts knew better.

  “I—I came home, after I went to grab ice cream. He just wanted ice cream." Mark's voice was shaky, almost in a panic. "I mean, I was only gone for ten minutes. I should have made him come with me," he stammered.

  Jen listened intently as she pulled the handle. The creak of the door was accompanied by the dome light flicking on as the door opened.

  The interior of the car was immediately illuminated, and her eyes had to adjust to the sudden change in light. As they did, they noticed something that caused her to stumble backwards, tripping in her heels.

  On the other end of the phone, Mark continued talking. "Jen, I'm so sorry. Reese's gone. I came home, and he wasn't here."

  But the words didn't register in her mind, at least not yet. Jen was staring, horrified, at the man in the driver's seat of her car.

  A man she worked with: Dr. Elias Storm.

  He was motionless; not breathing. Jen began to hyperventilate, a tightening scream working its way up her throat. She dropped the phone and let it bounce away.

  Then she noticed the blood. Deep crimson covered his body and the rest of the seat as well as most of the dashboard and windows. It also covered his face, dripping from his eyes.

  His eyes.

  Protruding from Dr. Storm's eyes, partially embedded in the man's skull, were two long metal rods. The kind of support rods they often used in the lab to prop up fossilized test subjects. They glistened in the dim lamplight, and the horrific scene finally took its toll on Jennifer.