“They tried to kill Stacy Zack and did kill the rest of her team.”
“Who the hell is Stacy Zack?” Cantwell said, and then shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. You need to stand down. Let Maxine go and let her security take over.”
Cantwell pressed a switch on the desk in front of him and leaned into a microphone.
“Miramar Base commander?”
A muffled voice responded.
“Send a force to Maxine King’s residence to assist her security forces in dealing with a hostage situation.”
The muffled voice said something.
Cantwell said, “Just get some soldiers moving now. I’ll keep you informed. And let King’s security forces know you are coming.”
“Sam,” Jeffrey said, “if anyone comes through that door, Maxine dies. Got it?” At this point, Jeffrey did not know if he was bluffing or if he really would kill Maxine.
Cantwell scowled. He pressed the button on the desk and said into the microphone, “Belay my order to notify her security forces until the situation can be coordinated, but get your troops en-route now.”
Cantwell looked up from the desk. “That’s the most I can do for you, Jeffrey. If you surrender peacefully, you won’t be harmed.” He looked at Maxine. The anger in his eyes shifted to concern. He looked back at Jeffrey. “Jeffrey, you’re not well. Does that strike you as a possibility?”
Jeffrey looked at Leif.
Had this all been a breakdown?
He tried to think back to the beginning.
I’m sure I reacted correctly. It’s all been real. Maxine admitted it. Freisman admitted it. The bodies were real enough. So was Stacy. But, in the bridge of the freighter, I shot first...
Jeffrey looked back at Cantwell. “Look Sam, we’ve known each other a long time. So, I need you to trust me—”
“Jeffrey, you have to stand down now—”
“No,” Jeffrey shouted at the screen. “You have to listen to me. If you won’t do it, I’ll use Maxine here to make you listen to me.”
“Jeffrey… you’re not well,” Cantwell said.
Jeffrey gripped Maxine by her hair and pushed her close to the camera. Then he held the knife next to her face. He couldn’t just make her confess now. Cantwell would only see that as the pressure of coercion. Given enough pain, she would claim to be the King of Morocco.
“You’re going to do one small thing for me,” Jeffrey said to Cantwell. “Then we keep talking.”
Cantwell gave a small nod.
“Have your technicians check your fusion reactors. If I’m crazy, you won’t find anything out of order. Scan for plutonium, or whatever you do. Maxine here has had her technicians plant nukes in your reactor cores while servicing each ship. According to her, they’ll go off in the next few hours, splitting your ship and all the other ships in the fleet inside out. Stacy Zack and her team stumbled onto one of those devices during a training exercise. That’s why Maxine wanted her dead.”
“Jeffrey,” Cantwell said, his tone now pleading, “be reasonable. Does that sound likely at all?”
“I’m not asking you, Cantwell. I’m telling you,” Jeffrey dipped the tip of the blade into Maxine’s cheek and she screamed through her teeth.
“Jeffrey, Maxine King is a great supporter of the military–”
“Do it. Now.”
Cantwell held up his hands. “Okay, I’ll have a crew check our reactors right now. If we find nothing, will you at least consider the option that you need to give yourself up and get help?”
“Sure,” Jeffrey said. “Yes.” But he didn’t mean it in the slightest.
If they don’t find a nuke on Cantwell’s ship, does that mean he’s involved? Or does that mean I’m wrong? Might Cantwell’s ship not be rigged? If there’s no device…
Jeffrey looked over his shoulder at Kyle and Leif. Then he looked back at the screen.
I have no backup plan. I’m trapped in Maxine’s mansion, surrounded by her private army, and only have two men… I also have to consider one barely alive woman I can’t leave behind.
“Good,” Cantwell said. He turned his back on the camera, called an officer over to him, and issued some orders to her that Jeffrey could not make out.
I hope he’s not just humoring me. He really appears to think that I’ve gone insane. If that’s true, perhaps he isn’t involved with Maxine. But he’s a politician as much as a military man. His career has depended on his ability to cover his intentions and reactions.
Cantwell sat on the side of the screen not looking at Holt. A man walked up to Cantwell with a clipboard. Cantwell waved him away with a snap of his hand.
Minutes passed, and Jeffrey became more and more nervous.
Are they checking the ship, or stalling for time?
He looked over his shoulder at the door and felt the hairs on his neck prickle as he thought of the door being kicked in. With a warning from Cantwell, which might have already been given, Maxine’s security forces would be on them. Then it was do or die.
“No games, Sam,” Jeffrey said. “No games, or Maxine will suffer, understood?”
Cantwell’s eyes flicked up to the screen. “I’m just waiting for a report back. You’ll have my full cooperation until then. I can offer you at least that much.” Cantwell looked at Maxine and concern again came to his eyes. “Darling, are you all right?”
“Darling?” Jeffrey looked at Maxine. “Are you sleeping with Sam Cantwell too?”
She said nothing, just whimpered a bit.
Jeffrey looked at Cantwell who flushed red and stared at Jeffrey, daring him.
“That’s quite a slip of words, Admiral. Something you want to say?”
Cantwell’s wife’s a congresswoman. An affair would ruin him... If he really does have an affair going with Maxine King, then this is a dead end.
Sam Cantwell said nothing, and Jeffrey felt his last shred of hope slip away.
Jeffrey looked over his shoulder. “Kyle, get Roberts’ side arm and cover that door. I have a feeling we’re going to have some company soon.” He pushed Maxine over to Leif.
“Get her between you and the door. If you see something get thrown into the room, close your eyes. They’ll probably come in behind a flash grenade. Once the flash is over, keep her between you and anyone who comes in the door.”
Jeffrey looked at the screen and saw Cantwell now had his back to the camera. He talked with the officer he had earlier given orders to. As she spoke, she jabbed her finger toward the floor of the bridge. Jeffrey could not make out her words but saw urgency in her eyes.
Cantwell turned and looked at Maxine. “How could you… even consider this as the right way?”
“There is no time, Sam. I am sorry that you and your crew will die, but it is the divine—” Maxine began, but fell silent when Cantwell waved her comment aside.
He pressed his thumb on the desk, and a panel opened. He slapped his palm on a button and said into a microphone, “This is a red alert. All hands to stations.”
Maxine turned to Holt. “There is not enough time to evacuate the ships.”
On the wall behind Cantwell, red lights began rolling in caged housings. He entered something into the console on the desk and leaned in on the microphone again.
“Send an emergency message to all ships’ commanders.” He paused and then said, “This is Admiral Sam Cantwell. We have a situation. It is possible that nuclear devices have been planted on U.S. Navy ships. Send teams to inspect all fusion reactors. Do not attempt to disarm the devices as the example we have has a detonation time of less than fifteen minutes. Follow emergency reactor ejection for the rigged cores. Make all other actions secondary to this task. Complete reactor surveys, and then follow up with sweeps of the entire ship. Report on status immediately. Note: this is not a drill. Again, this is a live situation, not a drill. End message.”
Cantwell looked back up to Jeffrey, “I owe you an apology, Holt, but I don’t have time for it now.”
“They can�
�t eject the cores,” Maxine said, her eyes pleading for it to be true. She looked at Cantwell. “You can’t eject the cores, there’s no mechanism for that.”
Cantwell stared at Maxine and said, “Yes, we can. We make some changes to our reactor cores after delivery, classified of course. In this case, it appears those changes actually stayed classified.”
A wave of relief ran through Jeffrey. He wanted to say something, but could not think what it might be. He felt tired, and old. Then he thought of what he needed to say. “I do need one more thing before you go, sir.”
“Yes, what’s that?”
“Your troops coming here, don’t forget to re-clarify who they are coming for.”
Cantwell nodded. “Yes, of course.” He tapped the desk in front of him, then leaned in on the microphone. “Miramar Base commander,”
There was a muffled response.
Cantwell said, “Inform troops en route to Maxine King’s residence that she is being held in custody by three men. One Jeffrey Holt is in command of that group. Assist Mr. Holt in securing Maxine King. Send additional troops now in a number great enough to take King’s local security force into custody. Secure all weapons systems, including vehicles and aircraft.”
Jeffrey heard more muffled comments.
“I appreciate your concerns, ma’am. I will give you more detail later.”
Sam Cantwell looked back at Jeffrey, his expression now grave. “I’m sorry Jeffrey—”
Jeffrey interrupted him. “I could care less at this point.”
“Understood.” Cantwell looked at Maxine and said, “I don’t understand. How could you?”
Anger came to her tear-streaked eyes. She said through her teeth, “You know the war was faked. Everything you are is a lie. You know what the government did to you. Any fool can see that this must happen.”
Cantwell shook his head, “Any fool might see that, but it isn’t going to happen, Maxine. As we speak, your nuclear devices are being jettisoned into space and destroyed by fighters. Other nations’ ships you have contracts with are being notified as well.”
“It can’t be over,” she said. “God told me.”
“I can’t help you with that,” Cantwell said, and pressed a switch on the desk. The screen went to the blue and white United Aerospace logo.
Maxine King looked at Jeffrey, then at Kyle, and then to her unconscious Roberts. “It can’t be over,” she said, and her legs gave out. Leif set her down on the floor. She sat with her legs askew and looked up at Jeffrey, confused. “You can’t stop me.”
Jeffrey looked at the door. “We need to get to Stacy.”
Kyle said, “What we need to do is wait here for support troops. We’re still in the center of the hive, and no one out there knows they’re on the losing side. Not yet.” He walked over to Jeffrey and put his hand on Jeffrey’s shoulder. “Our being with her will have nothing to do with her living or dying at this point. If she is tough enough, she’ll make it. If not, our being there won’t stop her dying.”
EPILOGUE
Jeffrey looked over the project plan on his computer screen and then typed into the current calendar day: “Demolition of the forward cabin of the Jules Verne freighter has been completed as of today. Work will begin on the port engine nacelle Monday.” At the top of the calendar, bright-yellow text read: “Project currently overdue three months, one week, and two days.”
He leaned back in his chair.
I hate being this far behind in my project schedule. If the damn bean counters would just let me reset the clock.
But the project managers had told him a reset would interfere with the landing schedule.
“Try to make up as much time as you can,” the office had said.
He stood up and stretched. The work the doctors had done on his back still amazed him. His two new titanium lumbars had him up and walking in a few weeks. His back felt twenty years old, but the dull ache from his knees reminded him of his age. He pushed on his back again, remembering the pain he had been in when Kyle Morgan’s injection had worn off. His spine had felt as though it was shattered glass, cutting into the muscle. He remembered soldiers lifting him onto a stretcher and carrying him to a waiting transport. A medic, wearing BDU’s with a red cross on her chest, walked beside him. She held up an IV bag with one hand. When she released the clamp with the other hand, Jeffrey’s vision blurred, and he faded into wonderful nothingness.
The day after Jeffrey came out of surgery, Leif visited him at Miramar. He told Jeffrey that the military had taken Maxine to a maximum-security hospital. Leif mentioned Carter Robert’s imprisonment, but Jeffrey waved that away. He only wanted to know one thing: how was Stacy? Leif told him that she had been transported to the East Coast. Leading neurosurgeons had repaired her skull, but when the doctors shut off the propofol drip she had stayed in a coma. There was nothing left to do but wait and see how she responded. The doctors had no idea if she would regain consciousness, or what state her mind would be in if she did. Leif knew nothing beyond that.
A few days later, Sam Cantwell had visited. He entered the room, not as his usual self, striding in and taking over the space, but slowly, almost apologetically. He nodded at Jeffrey and then sat in the chair beside the bed in silence. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and stared at the floor, hunched and somehow beaten. At first, Jeffrey did not know what to say, so he began by retelling Cantwell everything that had happened from the first to the last.
When he had finished, Cantwell looked up at him with tired eyes. “I’m sorry I doubted you, Jeffrey.”
“This is bigger than losing reactors, isn’t it?”
Cantwell sighed and put his head in his hands.
“Did you know her plan for the fleet?”
“No, of course not,” Cantwell said without defense. “I’d have stopped her if I had. She knew me well enough to know how to play that card. She told me just enough to gain the access she needed and nothing more.”
“Did you think Maxine was right about the war?”
“In the end, I believed her,” Cantwell said, as he leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling. “She was compelling. I fought in the war, or at least I think I did.” He looked back at Jeffrey. “The war seemed so unreal anyway; it just made sense to me. I suppose, after all these years, part of me really hoped it had all been an implanted lie. That meant none of it was real. The memories have haunted me so many years…”
Jeffrey could only nod at this. He knew of a way to set the issue to rest, but he considered that Cantwell might not want to know. Jeffrey also felt tempted by the possibility that a lifetime of nightmares and sorrow never actually happened. However, he had to know one way or the other. Those memories had shaped his life so much that, if they were implants, his entire self had become a fabrication.
Cantwell said, “I don’t know what to believe anymore, Jeffrey. I do know that my carelessness nearly killed thousands of service men and women.” He looked up at Jeffrey and then back to the floor. Jeffrey saw that the fire had gone out of Cantwell. His honor and purpose had collapsed, and all that remained sitting with Jeffrey in that hospital room was an old man.
“I’m preparing my resignation,” Cantwell said.
“Don’t be an asshole.”
Cantwell lifted his head and looked at Jeffrey.
“The Navy needs you, Sam. There are too many officers serving who only have theory in their heads. You know that if another invasion occurred, we’d be lost without experienced leaders.”
Jeffrey thought he saw a glint of the former soldier in the man’s eyes.
“What right do you have to say that to me after hiding in a scrap yard for 40 years?”
Jeffrey shook his head, saying, “I’m no politician, Sam. I’m no use outside of war. But I’ll make you a deal. If you stick with it, I’ll be the first person to walk into your office if there’s ever another invasion.”
Cantwell stared at the floor for a moment and then nodded. “I’ll have t
o think about it.” He looked at Jeffrey. “I can’t tell you how much…” he trailed off and then shrugged, saying, “You’ve saved so many lives, Jeffrey.”
“There’s only one life hanging in the balance right now that I care about.”
“Yes. I think she’ll pull through, if she’s as tough as you’ve said.”
“I don’t need hope, Sam. I need her to be okay.”
Cantwell nodded and then said, “Still, we’re all in your debt. If there’s ever anything we can do for you, just let us know.”
Jeffrey had intended what he’d said next to be a joke, something to lighten the mood. He hadn’t understood that when Cantwell had said “anything” he’d meant it.
Jeffrey made his request, and Cantwell gave a curt nod, stood, said, “I’ll get right on it,” and walked out of the room. Jeffrey sat in shocked silence for some time after.
Jeffrey smiled at the memory as he walked over to the cabinet. He took off his new Gorilla control jumpsuit. The suit’s metal rings clicked on the cabinet as he hung it up. He put on his dungarees and a blue t-shirt. He laced up his scarred boots, and walked to the door.
Pulling open the door, he stepped out of the bunker and into the warm autumn air. He looked at the landing pad. There, throwing a long shadow across the desert floor, sat the result of Cantwell’s promise: a new Kiowa gunship, its nose cannon and missile pods removed. Jeffrey walked around behind the gunship and pressed his thumb on the locking pad. A bar of green light scanned it. He pressed the switch next to the pad, and the Kiowa’s ramp lowered to the tarmac. He walked inside and pressed another switch. The interior dimmed as the ramp lifted and thumped closed. He moved into the cockpit, settled into the pilot’s seat, and strapped himself in. The Kiowa’s interior still held the faint ozone scent of new electronics and fresh welds.
With a practiced run of fingers, he brought the systems up and fired the engines. He left the flight helmet attached to its holder. The engines warmed. Even after the indicators turned green, he waited a few moments. The military had agreed to maintain the ship for him, including unlimited access to fuel, but he did not want to be ungracious in its treatment.
Hammerhead Page 24
