Part 14 (1/2)

The Pacific Standing almost paralyzed with fear in front of the gun cabinet, deep inside National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration s.h.i.+p Nautilus, Science Officer Kellerman heard the unmistakable clatter of feet on the stairway leading down from the upper deck. They were coming, those skeletal maniacs with the big guns and the explosive laden body belts. Kellerman felt desperation kick in. She had failed in her task. Captain alvares had been very clear-secure the guns in the L/E cabinet. But without a key, or even an idea as to where she might find one, her mission had failed before it had even begun. Those terrorist sc.u.mbags would capture her for sure, and break open the gun cabinet, helping themselves to a deadly new a.r.s.enal they could use on their prisoners.

Kellerman knew she had to buy time, hide out and avoid capture, for as long as she could. If she stayed hidden, they might not even find her. No doubt they had rounded up or killed the rest of the crew by now, surely she was the only one left. In the confusion there had to be a chance that these ruthless men wouldn't know how many crew- members sailed aboard the Nautilus, if so, she would be free and clear. Alternatively, their inside- man had fed them the names of everyone on board, and they were even now checking off names, to see if they had snagged everyone, in their sneak attack.

Kellerman shrank backwards along the darkened corridor, inching away from the sound of advancing footfalls. She kept her back close to the wall, in order she might keep her footing, as the s.h.i.+p pitched gently in the grip of the ocean. She placed her feet carefully, hardly daring to breathe.

Then she saw him, a dark figure descending the stairs and after this man another, both of them with vicious looking a.s.sault rifles slung about their necks. Her fingers pressing against the wall, Kellerman swallowed down the fear and backed away, into a darkened doorway. They would cover the corridor and work through every single cabin, until they were confident there was no one hiding. Then, they would move on, further down inside the s.h.i.+p until they had searched every conceivable crevice.

Seeking cover in a doorway, Kellerman realized that she was now inside the s.h.i.+ps galley. Her heart skipped faster. There were knives in the galley, all sorts of knives, and other utensils that could be used as weapons. But how in the h.e.l.l do you take down a man with an a.s.sault rifle with nothing but a cook's knife as company? Kellerman felt her stomach do a flip, as images of Heung and his broken, gore-splattered head flashed in on her, the sound of the skull cracking wide looping back endlessly as a torturous accompaniment. Only a few short hours ago it would have been unimaginable to even conceive of killing another human being. And now, that past life was gone forever, swept away by a cataclysm so profound it had drawn her to the very edge of a bleak and uncertain future.

Hurrying past the sinks and stoves, Kellerman headed for the butcher's block, at the back of the kitchen and s.n.a.t.c.hed up a wood- handled meat cleaver. She weighed it experimentally in her hand, testing it, imagining what it would be like to wield this instrument of death against another human being. She had killed already, but would she have the strength to do it again and so soon? Raising the cleaver, Kellerman made an experimental pa.s.s, as though she were striking out in anger. She tried the move again, this time backhanded, the whole time images of Heung's sickening injuries swimming before her eyes. The cleaver was heavy, too heavy to be maneuverable. You hit someone with one of those things and you would have to get lucky the first time. If you struck them a glancing blow, or you caught them in the wrong place, they would be on you before you could take another swing. Kellerman put the cleaver down, casting it onto the scarred wood of the block with growing revulsion. Next she s.n.a.t.c.hed up a wide bladed kitchen knife, twelve inches long at least, she held it up before her and the blade caught the light. She felt tempted to touch the edge to test it, but it looked razor sharp, so sharp it would slice through human flesh with ruthless efficiency. Visions of the past rose up again, preparing food for family and friends, Boeuf Bourguignon and Szechwan lamb. Then slow roasted conversations about politics and sports and a gla.s.s or three of wine, before settling down to dinner. She stared at the glittering blade. That distant life was nothing more than history now. If she used this knife as a weapon on another human being, she would have crossed the line forever, drawing down into the netherworld of inhuman beasts. There was no other option. She had to do it, kill or be killed.

The sound of cautious footfalls resounded in the corridor. Soon they would be here-two of them. Kellerman's mind worked quickly. She figured she might catch the first a.s.sailant by surprise, leap out from some hiding place and run him through with the knife before he had time to react; but what about the second? What would he do after seeing his partner in crime run through with a twelve-inch kitchen knife?

Outside the door, dark shadows, elongated and misshapen, crawled across the wall. They had guns-automatic weapons and they were hunting her down. Kellerman's stomach did a double-flip. She moved quickly down the side of the galley work island and clutched the big knife in readiness. She would hide, duck down until the last possible moment, until she no longer had a choice. Then, she would rise up and strike, trust her instincts to place the knife where it would do the most damage. It was her only game plan. No exit strategy, no hope of escape. Just rise up and strike, hope that the blow took her a.s.sailant down.

Perhaps the attack would give pause to the second man, before he opened up with his rifle, perhaps not. Kellerman hoped that the bullets when they tore into her body wouldn't hurt very much, but she knew that they would. Too bad they didn't prepare cadets for these kind of scenario's. At the Academy, unarmed combat was precisely that. As for fire arms training, none of it was close quarters and a couple of days a month popping high-caliber rounds down range hardly counted for anything, not when you were trapped two thousand miles from land and with no hope of rescue.

Kellerman heard more furtive movements.

Outside in the corridor, the two thugs were working their way down the hall, checking every cabin as they came. In a few short minutes, they would be upon her. She looked frantically around the small galley for some kind of hiding place where she might evade capture. As the desperate seconds sped by, her eyes settled on a small gap in the work surface that looked like it was meant to house a trashcan, or some kind of appliance that had been removed for maintenance. In the semi- darkness the snug little gap was hard to see- almost too small to fit a human inside, but she had to make it work, any other point in the room, they would catch her just as soon as they snapped the lights on.

Kellerman dipped down to a low crouch and inched backwards into the hole. The fit was real tight, so close she almost couldn't move. But that didn't matter. This tight little box might give her the edge she was looking for. She crouched back in her hiding place, with the kitchen knife poised ready, locked now in a close quarters game of hide and seek with survival as the prize. The darkness was disorientating Kellerman felt the unbearable tension pounding through her, every sense on high alert.

A sudden draft made her freeze-was she imagining it? The sound of soft footfalls and the unmistakable pa.s.sage of a heavy-set figure confirmed her fears. The dark figure swept past so quickly and silently there was no time to respond.

Instead, Kellerman sucked in a slow breath, and held it silently, not daring to exhale for fear she would be discovered before she had chance to execute her ambush.

The dark figure halted, as though surveying the room, then swept away, just as quickly and as silently as it had arrived, and with its pa.s.sing, Kellerman felt a sudden wave of euphoria rise within her. They had tried to trick her, by moving in a scout ahead of the main party. They wanted to draw her out of her hiding place, so they could move in quick and s.n.a.t.c.h her with a minimum of resistance. Well, they had failed and if she could foil their plans once, she could certainly do it again- she was in with a chance of coming through this, no matter how slim that chance might be. A new hope had risen. Kellerman breathed again, holding the kitchen knife two handed now, getting ready to run through the next person who came looking for her.

As soon as the silent a.s.sa.s.sin had pa.s.sed, the main party stood at the door, whispering conspiracies in an unintelligible tongue. They knew she was here all right, they just couldn't figure where. Kellerman froze once again, her fingers pressing hard on the handle of the big knife. She could feel the rivets standing out of the wood, feel the hard, cold, steel rising up like a coffin nail poised ready for death.

Dark shadows flickered in the doorway. The first man was in the galley now, his shadow rising across the floor, the thin barrel of his a.s.sault rifle moving ever watchful, as he came forwards with careful steps.

The lights flashed on, harsh and

unrelenting.

Kellerman shrank back in her hiding place.

She could smell them now-sour cabbage and fish, mixed with body odor and the heavy smell of tobacco. The first man moved cautiously down the opposite side of the galley. Soon he would see her-packed tight into her little hidey-hole. Strike first-it was her only chance. She had to move quick-get the drop on the guy before he had time to swing his gun. Kellerman counted down the footfalls figuring she would wait until he was almost upon her, before she made her move.

A sudden disturbance and a m.u.f.fled curse-like the second man had stumbled in the doorway. It was the perfect distraction. Kellerman rose up out of her hiding place and swung the knife with all her force. But the strike was badly mistimed. The dark figure before her stepped quickly backwards, almost like he had been forewarned.

A soft metallic noise echoed out Phut-phut. Kellerman had no time to think. Off balance now, she launched a second strike at her would be attacker, but instead of catching him centre ma.s.s, she caught him in the upper thigh. The knife sank deep, glancing off something that might have been bone. The effect was sudden and instantaneous.

The dark figure sank forwards, pulling the knife free of her enfeebled fingers, then toppled down, like a slow falling tree.

Kellerman had no time to pull clear, the man fell on top of her, his lifeless arms releasing his weapon as he fell. Sprawling on the floor Kellerman watched him come, struggling to escape, as his lifeless drooling face came level with hers. How could a stab wound to the leg cause such a dramatic result? As the puzzle flashed through her mind, Kellerman stared into the lifeless eyes of her would be a.s.sailant and the cause of her miraculous reprieve became apparent. The hideous emaciated face had a bullet hole bindi, blooming wide like a third eye, right in the middle of his forehead.

31.

Langley, Virginia Inside the lead lined operations room at CIA Langley, the Admiral relaxed back in his chair and said, ”Golf is a good walk ruined, according to that pinko son of a b.i.t.c.h Mark Twain, but what the h.e.l.l would he know, he was from Missouri for chrissake and by my reckoning, there isn't a course worth mentioning in the entire state.” The Admiral was wearing golf clothes and a navy colored ball cap emblazoned with the legend HMFIC. As he spoke, he gesticulated freely, underlining each point with an emphatic flourish.

”We got ourselves a problem,” said Jack Senegar.

”Too right we got a problem Laddie; it is almost five o'clock and this d.a.m.n golf course of yours doesn't have a bar. You call that hospitality?” ”We got coffee Bill, I am guessing you take it straight up?”

”What in the wild-tarnation are you thinking Senegar. Did you bring me here to poison me or something?” the Admiral regarded Jack Senegar with narrow eyes, then patted the breast pocket of his golfing jacket and said, ”I knew you spineless land-lubbers wouldn't have any grog in this G.o.d-forsaken puzzle palace of yours, so I took the liberty of bringing my own supply.”

Senegar gave the Admiral a level look and said, ”We are having communications issues with the Islands. Power outages and surge interference across the board. There has been a knock on to the telecoms hub. Which means satcoms in the area are overloaded. Local word is a relay station outage caused the problems. But our a.n.a.lysts say no.”

The Admiral nodded, his face suddenly grim. ”So it has started, Laddie, the organized interference you predicted.”

”I am afraid so.”

”The girl is on station?”

”Indeed. There have been deaths already.

Local police are saying there is no pattern. I think we can safely say that local law enforcement is entirely compromised.

”So it spreads.”

”Like a virus.”

”Then we must move quickly. No doubt these conspirators will have eyes on our affairs. I take it you are watching our friends in the Bureau?” ”And they are watching us-a battle of wits as ever, but the stakes are rising with each pa.s.sing hour,” said Senegar.

”Then it will no doubt be a matter of time before our subterfuge is discovered, which is a shame, because thus far this golfing break of ours has proved most enjoyable. I suggest we go live on this operation, effective immediately.”

”The a.s.sets are in place?” ”We have RQ-4 coverage online now, are the Predators in the air?”

”Full operational coverage.”

The Admiral nodded, ”Carrier strike group nine is moving on station as we speak, they will be in full operational range of the target in twelve hours forty-three minutes and counting,”

”This won't go unnoticed, our enemies are everywhere, including Government.”