Lilith

by Toby Tate

  Several Word and PDF documents came up. She clicked on one that said “ENG.” On the screen appeared a document listing all the personnel that worked in the engineering department aboard the Ford, from the department head on down. That wasn’t unusual, however. Most of those in the media group had done research on the ship and its crew before coming aboard in order to expedite their interviews and make better use of their short time on the Ford.

  She closed the file and looked at the abbreviations on the other files. One of them was a PDF file labeled “NR.” Lisa clicked on it.

  A diagram opened up that made her blood freeze. It was a detailed engineering drawing of the ship’s nuclear reactors and instructions on their inner workings. On the next page was another drawing of the steam turbine generators that provided electricity for the motors driving the main propeller shafts. Where would a woman doing stories for an environmental magazine get her hands on obviously classified material like mechanical drawings of the ship’s power plant? And why would she need them in the first place?

  Something was definitely out of place here, Lisa thought. Was it possible that Julia Lambert was a spy?

  With that thought, Lisa clicked off the file and closed it, turned off the laptop and folded it back up. Then, she pulled out the flash drive and stuck it in her pocket. If she got caught, she would say she found it lying on the floor.

  Lisa sat back down on the bed and stared dumbly at the blank TV screen, wondering who the hell Julia Lambert was and what exactly she was doing aboard the Gerald R. Ford. She also wondered what else was on that flash drive.

  CHAPTER 29

  Captain Phillips took a sip of coffee as he opened the door to the Ford’s bridge and stepped through.

  “Captain on the bridge!” a seaman shouted when he spotted Phillips.

  “Carry on,” the captain said. He closed the door behind him and walked over to the windows overlooking the forward flight deck, where the officer on deck, Lieutenant Joe Sanchez, stood gazing outside, apparently lost in thought.

  The captain tapped him on the shoulder and Sanchez jumped.

  “Sir?” he said.

  The captain frowned. “Everything alright, Sanchez? You look like you might be coming down with something.”

  “Yes, sir, everything’s fine. Do we have a time for arrival in New York Harbor, yet, captain?”

  The CO checked his watch. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I was getting ready to announce that.”

  Phillips sat his coffee down, crossed the bridge and picked up the mic to the ship’s 1MC intercom.

  “This is the captain speaking. I’m sure you’re all wondering what’s going on. We’ll be heading into New York Harbor tomorrow morning at zero eight hundred, docking at pier eighty-eight on Manhattan Island. Since Con Ed is still trying to get power up and running to the city, we will provide temporary electricity to a limited area. We will also be providing shelter for the homeless, assisting in rescues and cleanup, and offering medical care as well as creating an operating base for the rescue teams. We will be coordinating with the city’s OEM, who will instruct our department heads on what is needed. Enlisted personnel will go wherever they are directed by their various department heads and work center supervisors. Any questions will be addressed to me or the XO. You’re likely to see some things that may affect you emotionally, especially those of you with family in the area, but just remember, the citizens of New York are counting on us to help them through this disaster, so try not to let your emotions affect your judgment. I know you’ll do an outstanding job because the crew of the G.R. Ford is the best there is. That’s why they called us. Thank you and try to get a good night’s sleep.”

  As Phillips hung up the microphone, he didn’t notice the smile on Sanchez’ lips, or the silvery mass that shifted behind his brown eyes.

  PART THREE: LILITH

  CHAPTER 30

  Something was biting Mac. They were going into New York Harbor and she was on board. He didn’t know what she was up to, but he knew it was bad. Anywhere she went, there was trouble.

  The first indicator of this was the fact that some of the crew seemed to be acting differently, like they had been drugged. Vacant stares, meandering conversation, paranoid eyes darting from one place to the next. He had noticed it in one girl in particular, an intelligence specialist named Jessica Blount. They had been in a meeting with the XO when he asked her about some e-mails pertaining to their stop in New York. She had a blank look on her face, like she hadn’t the slightest idea what he was talking about. That definitely wasn’t like her, a normally bright, intelligent young woman. When Jessica finally spoke, she sounded at first like she had been taking barbiturates, having a hard time finding the words to say what she wanted to say. Even the captain seemed to notice it.

  MacIntyre took a bite of his scrambled eggs, staring across the officer’s mess at the TV news, not really seeing it, running a scenario through his mind.

  If they pulled into New York Harbor and the infected crewmembers left the ship, he knew they wouldn’t be back. They would go out into the city and eventually infect the entire population.

  Suddenly Mac understood the plan. The city had been hit by the hurricane on purpose, just as he had suspected, in order to create massive chaos and distract the citizens from the real threat. They were vulnerable, an easy target to be assimilated from the inside.

  And someone wanted the Ford in New York Harbor. But why? It wasn’t just a means of transportation—something else was in store.

  Mac laid his fork down on his plate and swallowed hard. He didn’t like what he was thinking. The captain would have to be warned, would have to be told about what was going on, and Mac was the only one who could do it. But how? Could he really convince Phillips that his crew was being controlled by a force that most people believed existed only in legend? The captain would have him sized for a straight jacket.

  But Mac knew he had to do it. There was no other way.

  He looked down at his eggs, pushed the plate away, swigged down the last drop of coffee then headed for the captain’s quarters.

  CHAPTER 31

  Commander Samuel “Sammy” Crane traversed the maze of passageways from vulture’s row to the first deck and aft toward sickbay, wondering exactly what it was he expected to find. Something strange had happened to Seaman Jessica Blount and he had a feeling it had to do with them. The chaplain knew he probably sounded like a maniac to that reporter, Singleton, but things were coming to a boiling point now. He knew they were on the move and were up to something—something that he knew had to do with the Ford. But what? That he didn’t know. But he figured the crew would soon find out.

  Sammy also realized that the ship would have to be kept from docking in Manhattan. The thought of those things loose in New York City was just too terrifying to imagine. They were on the Ford right now, planning whatever it was they were planning and now was a perfect chance to stop them once and for all. But how many were there? And how much of the crew was under their control? Figuring that out was not going to be easy.

  Sammy ducked his head and stepped through the last watertight door, then entered the door into sickbay. He spotted Hunt, the corpsman who had come to his stateroom, putting away some files. She flashed her infectious grin at him.

  “Hey, commander, how are you?”

  Sammy couldn’t bring himself to smile back—dark clouds were beginning to form inside his mind and he knew that was not a good thing.

  “I’m fine,” he said. “Where’s the young lady you said wanted to see me?”

  Hunt dropped the file into the drawer and closed it, then walked briskly across the room to a curtain-covered area on the other side.

  Hunt pulled the curtain aside. “Seaman Blount, there’s someone here to—Oh, my God! Commander, I need your help!”

  When he stepped through the curtains he saw Jessica Blount hanging from a water pipe, her bare feet swinging slowly from side to side like a pendulum.

  CHAPTER 32 />
  “Mac, I can’t just derail our mission because of a gut feeling,” Phillips said. “You’ve got to give me more than this. What exactly do you feel is going to happen if we pull into port?”

  “Sir, I know how this sounds, but you have to trust me,” he said as he eyed Phillips. “We’ve served together a long time and you know I’m not given to impulsive behavior. You just have to understand that the ship’s crew is in danger and if we pull into port in New York, the whole damn city will be in danger as well.”

  “Mac, you know I can’t run a ship on hunches. You have to give me something concrete and tangible here. Now what the hell are you talking about, ‘The ship may be in danger.’ In danger from what?”

  Mac felt like he was standing inside a pressure cooker, desperately trying to think of a way out before the heat was cranked up. The ship was already inside New York Harbor and was about to begin docking procedures. That left him very little time for a tactful approach—he would have to be blunt. “There’s…something…on board the ship. Something that is capable of taking over the minds of crew members and controlling their actions. I believe it began when we brought the VIPs on board. It has probably already affected a lot of our crew.”

  Phillips furrowed his brow and Mac braced himself.

  “Are we talking about some kind of virus here?” Phillips said. “I haven’t heard Jeffries say anything about it.”

  “Commander Jeffries doesn’t know about this. It’s probably something he’s never seen before.”

  Phillips shook his head. “Mac, look. You’re the ship’s communications officer, not a doctor. How could you know that the ship is infected with something that the ship’s doctor doesn’t even know about? That just doesn’t make sense. You’re going to have to come up with some evidence. Do you know of some infected crew members?”

  Mac sighed. “No, sir, I don’t.”

  “Well, then, I guess that ends our discussion, doesn’t it?”

  The growler on the captain’s wall sounded off, causing both men to jump. Phillips grabbed it.

  “This is the CO,” he said.

  Mac couldn’t hear the other end of the conversation, but the somber look on Phillips’ face said it was probably not good news.

  “Hanged? Who was it?” Phillips said to the handset.

  More silence.

  “Alright, chief. Call the XO and fill him in, then stay on it. I’ll be down ASAP.”

  “What’s going on?” Mac asked.

  As he hung up the handset, Phillips’ countenance was dark. “A young seaman was found hanging from the overhead down in sickbay,” he said.

  An awkward silence followed.

  “Mac, I don’t know what the hell is going on aboard my ship, but I’m damn sure going to find out. Let’s go.”

  Mac followed the CO out of the stateroom and down the cramped passageways of the Ford, towards sickbay.

  CHAPTER 33

  Hunter made his way to the mess deck and bought a cup of Starbuck’s coffee to take back to his own stateroom. He paid for the coffee and continued on across the mess deck, glancing at the few crew members that sat talking or watching TV. He felt as if he was in a daze. Was the chaplain really serious about those creatures? What had he called them? Oh yes—the Lilitu. Could some of the crew be possessed? It was like that sci-fi movie from the 1950s, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, where you couldn’t tell who was a real human and who wasn’t. So how the hell could you tell who you were dealing with if that was true?

  It was certainly a sobering and frightening thought, and the commander was so convincing. Damn, Hunter thought, if only he could be sure.

  But they would be pulling into port soon in Manhattan and Hunter would be among the first to get a scoop on a great, though tragic, story. He would get a firsthand look at a Navy ship’s crew assisting the citizens of one of the biggest cities in the world following a major hurricane. Most reporters at papers the size of the River City Tribune would give their first born to be in on a story like this.

  Yet the fact that they would be so close to port with so many weird things going on aboard the Ford left him with a feeling of foreboding. Hunter was not quick to believe in weird, supernatural entities, but he had seen some mind-bending, reality-changing things in his life. Sometimes it was the people that seemed to be the craziest who often turned out to be the ones closest to the truth. He had seen some strange things…no, felt…some strange things since he had come aboard the carrier and that little meeting with Julia Lambert and then with Commander Crane just served to validate his feelings. Should he just blow them off?

  Hunter reached his stateroom door and opened it. There sat Lisa at his desk, watching some kind of soap opera on the TV. She didn’t seem to notice him. Something was wrong.

  “Hey, what’s going on?” he asked as the door shut behind him.

  Lisa sighed and Hunter immediately thought the worst. He knew that sigh very well.

  “Is something wrong with the baby?”

  Lisa shook her head. “No, nothing’s wrong with the baby. I just discovered something and I’m hoping that my conclusions are wrong.”

  “Honey, I swear, she meant nothing to me,” Hunter deadpanned. “I mean, sure, the sex was good, but…”

  “Hunter, you are so not funny. I am trying to be serious here.”

  Hunter sat his coffee on the desk and started massaging his wife’s shoulders. That always relaxed her, and he could feel the tension begin to drain from her body.

  “I think I feel a lot of pent up hostility in this muscle right here,” Hunter said as his fingers expertly kneaded her shoulder muscles.

  “You are such an ass, but a really nice ass.”

  “I’ll bet you say that to all the asses.”

  A soft moan escaped Lisa’s lips, but Hunter could tell she was about to say something and braced himself.

  “Hunter, I think my roommate might be some kind of spy.”

  Hunter stopped massaging. Lisa looked up at him.

  “What?” she said. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you? But I’m telling you, I saw stuff on her laptop, stuff that nobody without a top secret security clearance should be able to access.”

  Hunter moved over to the bed and sat directly across from Lisa.

  “Okay,” he said. “I don’t think you’re crazy. What kind of stuff did you see?”

  “Let me back up a little,” she said. “For one thing, Julia hardly ever stays in the stateroom. I mean, you can vouch for that. How many times have you been in my stateroom and never seen her?”

  Hunter nodded. “You have a point. I’ve only seen her in there once.”

  “Right. So what the hell does she do? Where does she go all that time?”

  Hunter shrugged. “The ladies room?”

  Lisa slapped him on the leg. “No, not the ladies room. She’s out somewhere on the ship, doing God knows what. And the stuff on her laptop. Diagrams of the nuclear reactors and main engines, a list of ship’s personnel and their functions aboard the ship—the kind of information a terrorist would have.”

  “Yeah, or the kind someone would pay money to have.”

  “Also, I couldn’t resist, so I absconded with the evidence.” She pulled the flash drive out of her pocket and flashed it in Hunter’s face.

  Hunter’s eyes grew wide. “Holy shit! You’d better hope she doesn’t catch you with that.”

  “Don’t worry, I have an alibi figured out. I’ll just say…”

  Right then the door opened and Charles Blakely walked in.

  CHAPTER 34

  A heavy silence fell over the room, as if they had all suddenly forgotten how to speak. Blakely let the door slam behind him and made his way to his desk, which was between the door and Hunter’s own desk. The pair felt a little uneasy at Blakely’s presence—something seemed to have him perturbed and he was not his usual, jovial self.

  He adjusted his ball cap, pulled out his desk chair and sat down facing Hunter and Lisa, casually crossing his
legs like a police sergeant preparing to question a suspect. Now he was starting to creep Hunter out.

  “Well, you two have been busy, haven’t you?” he said.

  Hunter and Lisa eyed each other, then Blakely. Hunter realized Lisa was still holding up the flash drive and saw her lower it to stick it in her pocket when Blakely stopped her short.

  “I’ll take that,” he said, holding out his hand. Lisa didn’t move.

  “What’s going on, Charles?” Hunter asked. “Why were you listening outside the door? You’re not really with Military Aircraft Magazine, are you?”

  Blakely shook his head, pulled a wallet out of his back pocket, opened it and flashed a shield at them. “CIA. And I hope I can count on you to keep that to yourself for now.”

  “Sure, I can keep a secret. But before we hand over the flash drive, I would appreciate it if you could fill me in on what the hell is going on around here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean is there something to what Lisa was saying? Is that woman a spy?”

  “Not a spy. Something worse.”

  Lisa gasped. “I knew it—that bitch is a terrorist, isn’t she? What is she planning? Is she going to blow up the ship or something?”

  “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure. But I think the clues may be on that flash drive you’re holding. If you let me have it, I can take a look at it on my laptop and figure out things from there.”

  Hunter glanced at his wife then back at Blakely. “We’ll hand it over if you let us help you with the case.”

  Blakely thought about that and realized this was something he really couldn’t do himself. It was too big, there were too many unknowns and he couldn’t bring another operative in. He would have to trust somebody.