The Cotten Stone Omnibus: It started with The Grail Conspiracy... (The Cotten Stone Mysteries)

by Lynn Sholes

  “Were there?” Cotten asked.

  “Two North Korean patrol boats about twenty-two miles from our location. I ordered the ship to change course toward the point where the distress call originated. I also ordered the crew of our Sikorsky Seahawk to prepare to launch in the event we needed to conduct a search and rescue mission. We finally spotted the faint outline of a vessel emerging from the edge of the storm. It drifted on rolling swells, dead in the water. At that point, I had the helm slow to one third and take us to within a thousand yards of the target.”

  “Did you see any signs of life?”

  “None. I half-expected a panic-stricken crew or smoke from an explosion or fire. What I saw was a lifeless ship drifting out of the squall.”

  “Were you able to identify the vessel?” Cotten asked.

  “It didn’t take long. She was the Oceanautics research vessel Pitcairn. Port of registry, San Diego. Our database showed that she had a normal crew of six and a contingent of twelve students and scientists. Oceanautics was contacted and confirmed that they were performing deep water drift current studies and island botanical research, and the ship was reported late in arriving into Dandong, China.”

  “So you ordered the launch of the rescue helicopter?”

  “Yes. The Seahawk sits on our aft helo pad. She’s got a pilot, copilot, and two special-ops Navy SEALs. Tango X-Ray—the call sign for the Seahawk—took off and made three circuits around the Pitcairn. Their video cameras transmitted close-up images back to us. When we spotted the bodies on deck, we recalled the Seahawk and outfitted the SEALs with Level A hazmat gear or bunny suits as they’re sometimes called. You see we didn’t know if the people on the ship were dead, injured, sick, or what. Could have been anything at this point, including contagious illness or they may have come in contact with a deadly toxin. Level A gear is completely airtight. We had to take all precautions, and it’s a good thing we did. After outfitting the SEALs—”

  “Their names were Bennet and Richards?”

  “Correct. They re-boarded the Seahawk. The Pitcairn was a fairly large research vessel, and it also had a stern-mounted helo pad. Tango X-Ray put down on the Pitcairn and the SEALs disembarked. Once they were safely on the ship’s deck the pilot lifted the Seahawk up to hover at a safe distance. Using the video feed from Tango X-Ray, I could see my men move to the ladder leading up to the vessel’s bridge.”

  “Who was the first to relay back what they’d found?”

  “Bennet. He said that it looked like everyone onboard was dead.” Phillips shook his head, obviously reacting to the memory. “I asked him to repeat, and he said that he was checking for signs of life but it didn’t look good.”

  “How many bodies did he find?”

  “At that point, four—two on deck and two on the bridge. He believed those four were the captain and members of the crew.”

  “Did your men find any vitals on any of the victims?”

  “None. Then Richards radioed that he had discovered six more bodies below deck. He said they appeared to be college age or a little older. They had to be the students and scientists.”

  “What condition were the bodies in?”

  “He reported their flesh had turned yellow and that there was blood clotted around their nostrils, mouths, and ears.”

  “But if everyone was dead, who activated the distress beacon?” Cotten asked.

  “Bennet found it on a table in the radio room—one of those handheld, personal transmitters. He reported a dead body on the floor. Probably the person who set off the beacon. And he said that it looked like there had been an extensive fire in the electronics rack. Could have been why they didn’t call for help on the normal frequencies.”

  “At that point, could your men determine cause of death?” Cotten asked.

  “Negative. Bennet said that all the bodies showed the same signs of excessive bleeding from every orifice.”

  “So when did the Korean missile boats show up?”

  “Right after Bennet’s assessment of the condition of the bodies, we received a radio communication. The voice identified itself and informed us that we were in North Korean waters. They declared that we had violated international law and demanded that we reverse course and leave immediately.”

  “That must have taken you by surprise.”

  “Ms. Stone, I was so preoccupied with the discovery of the dead bodies, I had temporarily dismissed the Koreans. Radar called up to the bridge that there were two targets—Houdong missile boats. They were coming at us at a pretty good clip. I ordered radar to confirm our location.”

  “So you were definitely inside Korean waters?”

  “We were holding steady at five hundred yards inside their territory but the ocean current was pushing the Pitcairn farther toward the coast. She had already drifted over two thousand yards across the boundary.”

  “And that’s when you got the second warning?”

  “They said it was a final warning, that we were violating the sovereign territory of the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea, and to reverse course and leave immediately or we would be fired upon.”

  “Didn’t you think they were pressing their luck threatening an American warship?” Cotten asked.

  “Yes and no. Right about then, radar confirmed that there were two more missile boats closing in on us. At that point we were in close quarters with the targets and the fact is, we had violated their territory. It seemed fairly certain that the people on the Pitcairn were dead, so there was nothing I could do for them. My main concern was for the safety of my two men onboard the Oceanautics vessel along with my ship and crew. Conducting any type of armed conflict at that point was without merit.”

  “So you ordered Bennet and Richards to abandon the Pitcairn?”

  “No choice. Tango X-Ray landed on the vessel and recovered the SEALs. As soon as I saw them safely inside the helicopter, I told communications to acknowledge to the North Koreans that we were complying with their demands. And I instructed the helm to back us off to five thousand yards beyond the line.”

  “That must have really riled you to have to leave?”

  “I would have preferred to finish searching the ship and see if there were any survivors.”

  “Of course, we now know there were none,” Cotten said.

  Phillips shrugged as if not sure.

  “Were you able to maintain sight of the Pitcairn and the Korean boats?”

  “For as long as we could. We steamed west until we were well into international waters before we came about. Unfortunately, another squall line moved in between us and the target, and we lost visual contact. By then radar had confirmed that a number of North Korean vessels were converging on the Pitcairn.”

  Phillips paused, seeming to be in deep thought. Finally, he said, “You know what they reminded me of, Ms. Stone?”

  “You mean the Koreans?”

  “They looked like sharks circling a kill.”

  body count

  Cotten crooked her neck to hold the phone in place while she skimmed through papers on her desk and waited for John to pick up. She’d been put on hold by his secretary.

  “Hey, Cotten,” he finally said, answering.

  The connection was clear, as if he were just next door instead of an ocean away. As always, John’s voice was warm and comforting. “Hey, yourself,” she said, grabbing the phone with her hand, leaving the papers in a heap.

  “It’s great to hear from you.”

  “Same here. Are you coming this way anytime soon?” She closed her eyes and hoped for a yes.

  “No, I’m just back from the MI5 briefing in London and am pretty tied up here for a while. Maybe I’ll see my way clear in a month or two.”

  “I’d like that,” she said. “I think I’m going to need your help.”

  “The T-Kup thing?”

 
“Yeah. It’s growing. I was sitting here thinking about Calderon and the Amazon woman and did a little research. The strange thing about them was that they were isolated cases and worlds apart. Nobody else around them became infected. Then it hit me. I had done a piece on that research vessel, the Pitcairn. Do you recall that event? It caused quite a stir for a while.”

  “Yes. Everyone on board was dead. North Koreans grabbed the ship.”

  “Right. They still haven’t returned the bodies. The families have filed lawsuits against the North Korean government to get the bodies back, but no results. I thought I remembered the description of the bodies, but wanted to make sure. So, Ted and I watched my interview with the U.S. warship’s commander again. The description of the dead given by the SEALs who went on board appeared to match those of Calderon and the Yanomamo woman.”

  “No kidding. Looks like the North Korean connection is getting stronger.”

  “Sure does. We’re trying to tie down a link, something that might pull this whole thing together. It’s more than obvious that Calderon was attempting to give me some clue when he said Black Needles. But I can’t figure it out. When I do, I believe it will all come together.”

  “What’s the CDC been able to scrape up?”

  “Nothing. There are no bodies to examine or autopsy. Calderon’s disappeared, the Yanomamo woman was cremated in keeping with the Indian tradition, and the North Koreans still have the bodies from the Pitcairn.”

  “There’s no dealing with their General Secretary, I can tell you that. He has total control. He’s like a god. And nobody really knows what’s going on over there. He says anything he wants but that doesn’t mean what he says is true. After such an in-your-face, aggressive attitude about their nuclear ambitions, he suddenly succumbs to pressure to curb the program? He agrees to allow the Nuclear Regulatory Commission inspectors to go in and disable their main nuclear facility? Seems way too easy. And now you’ve made me think I know why. Cotten, what if the nuclear threat is simply a decoy?”

  “That’s our thinking, too. We just don’t know what they’re up to. But if Calderon is an example of the results, we’d better find out fast. Maybe they were just simply testing the waters, or maybe Calderon and the native woman were accidents. But I think it comes down to the fact that they are up to their necks in some type of germ warfare experimentation. Personally, it scares the hell out of me.”

  “Have you talked to anyone in the government about this possibility?”

  “Ted said he spoke to someone and was told the FBI and CIA get hundreds of calls with all types of suspicions. Mostly from crackpots. Right now we have nothing to give them. No hard evidence. They’d just brush it off at this point. Probably think we were trying to create a story for network publicity. We have to get something firm, first.”

  “I can talk to someone. I’ll get Archbishop Montiagro to—”

  “Not yet. Let me see what else I can come up with.”

  “Cotten, don’t wait too long. You and I both know there is more to this. Something much larger is behind it, and much more terrifying.”

  Cotten’s call waiting beeped. “John, hold on a minute, let me get the other line.”

  She hit the flash button. “Cotten Stone.”

  She held the phone intently to her ear and listened for a few moments.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “Okay. Yes. Give me a number where I can reach you. I’ll take care of everything and get back to you.”

  She scribbled a phone number on a pad of paper, thanked the caller, and hit the flash button again.

  “John, are you still there?” Her voice was laced with excitement.

  “Everything all right?”

  “Yes. I think we have another victim. And this time, it looks like we have a body.”

  black needles

  Moon stood at her kitchen counter and lifted the pot of coffee. The brew was rich and dark, and she anticipated its strength and bitter taste. She had altered the recipe of one scoop per cup and one for the pot, to one scoop per cup and three for Moon. She needed the staggering dose of caffeine. Caffeine, as well as more specific antagonists of the adenosine A receptor, had been found to attenuate neurotoxicity in mice. She suspected her disease was linked to toxins rather than being hereditary. For some time now, the evidence suggested that caffeine lowered the chance of developing Parkinson’s. Even if there was no current evidence that caffeine would slow the progression of the disease, she felt there was nothing to lose in trying.

  The coffee steamed, sending up pungent aromatic swirls to her nostrils. Moon set it aside and reached for the clear bottle of grain alcohol, the second component of her morning medicinal cocktail. Whether or not alcohol could protect a person from developing Parkinson’s was a hotly debated topic. And of course she already had the disease, but if there was some slight chance that alcohol and caffeine might give her a little more time, she would pursue it. Again, what did she have to lose?

  Moon measured the grain alcohol into a shot glass and then poured it into the mug of coffee. If nothing else she would relax a little before the meeting.

  She put away the alcohol, emptied and washed the coffee pot, then sat at her kitchen table with the mug cupped in her palms. Taking a small plastic pill bottle from the center of the table, she spilled one salmon-colored Stalevo tablet into her palm, one of eight that she would choke down throughout the day. Moon popped it into her mouth and chased it with a gulp of her coffee. She sat back and meditated for the next ten minutes, sipping from her mug until the coffee was all gone and the alcohol had kicked in.

  Finally, she rinsed the mug and thought to herself how this was the best time of her day—the morning. She was not going to feel any better than she did right now. The remainder of the day would be filled with anxiety and unpredictable tremors.

  Beside the sink was a plastic tote containing a dozen pill bottles of vitamins, herbs, and other sources of immune boosters and protectors. She shook one pill from each into her palm and wolfed them down in groups of three with a large glass of tap water.

  Thirty minutes later when she had dressed, she called for the car to be brought around to the front entrance.

  ___

  Upon being introduced by the General Secretary, Moon entered the converted WWII hangar that now served as an auditorium for large meetings of her staff and the Black Needles recruits. It was one of a dozen buildings making up the high-security government laboratory complex north of the city. Narrow rectangular windows let the morning light spill in while a large contingency of heavily armed military police were posted inside and out.

  The General Secretary had taken his seat up front on a raised platform. Behind him, stretching across the back wall was a fifty-foot-wide flag of the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea. Sharing the platform were a dozen military officers and Workers Party dignitaries.

  One thousand Black Needles volunteers sat in rows across the middle of the room. All had been handpicked for their zeal and loyalty, and had undergone extensive background checks. When tapped for service, they were only told the minimum information needed at the time and were sworn to secrecy. Today they would learn all they needed to know to complete their missions.

  The General Secretary nodded as Moon approached. She acknowledged him before walking to the podium. Then she turned to face the men and women who waited to hear the details of their fates.

  “Good morning, comrades,” Moon said. “Friends of the new revolution, we are on the brink of bringing the world of the imperialist aggressors to their knees. At last they will pay for the atrocities committed on our people. Soon they will grovel before us. Our glorious day is almost at hand, and you, dear comrades, will have the satisfaction of knowing you are an integral part. As Dear Leader has just said, the people must have independence in thought and politics, economic self-sufficiency, and self-reliance in defense. Soon, we will have all of thi
s and more. Our Juche ideology and outlook requires absolute loyalty to the party and Dear Leader. You have proven to us that this exists in the very fiber of your souls. Amongst tens of thousands of your countrymen, you are the chosen ones. Your sacrifice will be the supreme example of absolute loyalty. And it is my humble task to lead you.” Moon’s voice spiked. “Who among you embraces this passion in your heart?” She thrust her right arm in the air. “Who is with me?”

  With a thunderous roar, the recruits shot to their feet in applause and a resounding cry of “I am with you!”

  Moon bowed her head in gratitude and pride, then motioned for the volunteers to settle back in their seats.

  “You will be the first of a new breed of warriors. You and the names of your honorable families will be etched in our history books, a proud legacy to pass on for generations. The legacy of Unit 731.”

  Her left hand trembled at her side, and she hid it in the folds of her long skirt.

  “But before you take on this mission, we must be clear. You need to understand the mechanics and details of what will be required of you. Today this knowledge will unfold.”

  She paused until there was utter silence in the high-ceilinged aircraft hangar. She wanted them to realize the seriousness of her words.

  “First, I must take you back in time to when I was a young girl. As many of you know, by heredity, I am not Korean, but rather the daughter of Japanese parents who spent many years working with what was called Unit 731.”

  There was a subtle muttering of acknowledgment amongst the recruits.

  “When my homeland surrendered at the end of the great Pacific war, the government turned its back on many of the Japanese people who had served them so well. Enraged at the amity developing between Japan, the United States, and their allies, my parents fled to Korea, and later, more specifically, North Korea, to carry on their work. After their deaths I took up their task, and at last have found a most perfect way to bring about the revenge for my mother’s death and so many fellow countrymen.”