The Atlantis Gene: A Thriller (20 page)

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Authors: A. G. Riddle

Tags: #Mystery Thriller

BOOK: The Atlantis Gene: A Thriller
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Sloane leaned back. "We both know it's not an alien space ship."

"Do we?"

"We will soon."

CHAPTER 42

Somewhere off the Java Sea

For a while, David leaned against the door frame in the bedroom, watching Kate sleep, waiting to see if she would wake up again. The Immari thugs had really put her through the ringer, and his rescue hadn’t helped either.

Seeing her sleeping there while the waves rolled in and the breeze blew through the room somehow put him at peace. He didn’t understand it. The fall of Jakarta Station in the face of an imminent terror threat — from the very people he had dedicated his life to stopping — was a nightmare scenario; no, The Nightmare Scenario. But saving her had changed David in some way. The world felt less scary now, more manageable in some way. For the first time since he could remember, he was… hopeful. Almost happy. He felt more safe. No, that was wrong. Maybe… the people around him were safer, or he felt more confident. Confident that he could protect the people he… The self-analysis would have to wait. He had work to do.

When it was clear Kate wouldn’t wake up again anytime soon, he withdrew from the room and resumed his work in the hidden chamber below the cottage.

He had told the contractors he wanted a bomb-shelter. They had said nothing but the looks they gave each other said it all: this dude is crazy, but he didn’t argue about the price, so get to work. They had given the room a strong post-apocalyptic, end of the world motif: all concrete walls, a utilitarian built-in metal desk and just enough room for a cot and some supplies. It was fitting given his situation.

His next move was crucial. He had deliberated about what to do for most of the morning. His first instinct was to contact Clocktower Central. The director, Howard Keegan, was his mentor and friend. David trusted him. Howard would be doing everything he could to secure Clocktower, and he would definitely need David’s help.

The issue was getting in touch. Clocktower didn’t have any back-door communication channels — just the official VPN and protocols. They would no doubt be monitored — connecting would paint a target on your location.

David drummed his fingers on the metal desk, leaned back in the chair, and stared at light bulb hanging from the ceiling.

He opened a web browser and scoured all the local and national news. He was procrastinating. There was nothing here that could help him. He did see a wire release about a woman and man sought in connection with a terrorist plot and possible child-trafficking ring. That would slow him down, but thankfully there were no sketches attached to the article. But they would follow shortly, and every border security agency in Southeast Asia would be on the lookout for both of them.

He had several IDs in the safe house, but not much cash.

He opened his bank account. The balance was almost zero. Josh — he had executed the transfers. Was he alive? David had assumed Jakarta Station HQ was attacked when he had been in the streets. There was something else, several deposits, all small, less than $1,000. All even numbers. It was a code, but what kind? GPS?

9.11

50.00

31.00

14.00

76.00

9.11

9.11 — that would be the start and end of the code. The rest: 50.31.14.76. An IP address. Josh had sent him a message.

David opened a web browser and typed in the IP. The page was a letter from Josh.

—————————

David,

They’re outside the door. It won’t hold much longer.

I decoded the messages.
Click here
to read them. I couldn’t figure out what they meant. I’m sorry.

I did find the contact, online at least. He’s using the Roswell Craigslist board to pass messages.
Click here
to go there. I hope he sends another message and that you stop the attack.

I’m really sorry I couldn’t help more.

Josh

PS: I read your letter and executed the transactions (obviously). I thought you were dead — the sensor on your suit showed no vitals. I hope that doesn’t mess you up.

—————————

David exhaled and looked away from the screen for a long moment. He opened the file with the decoded messages — obituaries from the New York Times. In 1947. Josh had done some great work. And he had died thinking he failed.

David opened the Roswell Craigslist site, and he saw it immediately — a new message from the contact.

Subject>
“Running down the clock on a tower of lies”

Message:
To my anonymous admirer:

I’m afraid my current relationship has become complicated. I can’t meet you or have any contact. I’m sorry. It’s not me. It’s you. You’re too dangerous for me.

There are 30 reasons and 88 excuses I’ve come up with not to meet you. I’ve run through 81 lies and 86 stories.

I told myself I would meet you.

I even set a date. 03-12-2013

And a time 10:45:00

But the truth is you’re #44 on my list of priorities at this point. And that’s just not enough to pay attention to. Maybe if you were 33. Or 23. Or even 15. It’s just not enough.

I have to cut the power on this and save my kids.

It’s the only responsible thing to do.

David scratched his head. What the hell did it mean? It was clearly a code of some kind. He could really use Josh’s help right now.

David took out a pad and tried to focus. His brain wasn’t built for this sort of thing. Where to start? The first part was pretty straight-forward: the contact was under duress now. He couldn’t meet or send any more messages. Terrific news. The rest was a series of numbers, and the words around them were non-sense. They made sense in this missed connection board, but they had nothing to say and added nothing new to the message. The numbers. They had to mean something.

David began scribbling on the pad, extracting the numbers from the message. In order, they were:

30,88. 81,86.

03-12-2013

10:45:00

#44

33-23-15

The first part:
30,88. 81,86.
GPS coordinates. David checked. Western China, right at the border of Nepal and India. Satellite images revealed nothing there… except, what was it? An abandoned building. An old train station.

Next:
03-12-2013 and 10:45:00
A date and time. The contact said he couldn’t meet, so what would be at that abandoned train station? A trap? Another clue? If Josh had read the letter — and followed the instructions — he would have sent everything he found to Clocktower Central. If Central was compromised, Immari would know all about the obituaries and the Craigslist board. The message could be from Immari. A set of special forces could be there in China, waiting for David to wander into the cross hairs.

David pushed the thought out of his mind and focused on the last set of numbers in the message:
#44 and 33-23-15.
It had to be a locker in the train station. Or maybe the number 44 train or car? David rubbed the bridge of his nose and read the posting again.

The sentences after the numbers… It was a different sort of message. Instructions?


I have to cut the power on this and save my kids.

It’s the only responsible thing to do.”

‘Have to cut the power.’ ‘Save my kids.’ David turned the phrases over in his mind.

Above him, he heard someone walking around the cottage.

CHAPTER 43

Al Jazeera Wire Release

Indonesian authorities identify two Americans connected to terror attacks and child trafficking ring

Jakarta, Indonesia // A string of terror attacks yesterday in Indonesia’s capital of Jakarta have sparked a man-hunt on land, sea, and air. The Indonesian National Police has deployed half of its 12,000-person-strong marine unit in the Java Sea and called in troops from around the country to search Jakarta and the islands surrounding it. Neighboring governments have also joined the search by putting their border and airport security divisions on alert. Authorities have so far been mum on the reason for the attacks, but they have released brief sketches of the suspects.

The woman, Dr. Katherine Warner, has been identified as a genetics researcher performing unauthorized experiments on impoverished children from rural villages outside Jakarta. “We’re still putting the pieces together,” said Police Inspector General Nakula Pang. “We know Dr. Warner’s clinic was the legal guardian of over 100 Indonesian children who were taken without their parents’ consent. We also know Dr. Warner was moving a lot of money via accounts in the Cayman Islands — a common haven for drug smuggling, human trafficking, and other major international crimes. At this time, we believe the clinic was a front for child-trafficking and from what we can tell, the proceeds may have gone to finance yesterday’s attacks.”

Those attacks included three separate blasts in residential neighborhoods, a violent firefight in the market district, and a deadly series of explosions in the wharf that claimed the lives of 50 employees of Immari Jakarta. Adam Lynch, a spokesperson for Immari Jakarta issued this statement: “We mourn yesterday’s loss of life, and today we’re simply searching for answers. The Indonesian Police have confirmed our suspicions that the attack was carried out by David Vale, a former CIA operative who had previous contact with Immari Security — another division of Immari International. We believe these attacks are part of a personal vendetta and that Mr. Vale will continue to attack Immari employees and interests. He’s a very dangerous man. He could be suffering from PTSD or another psychological condition. It’s a very sad situation for everyone involved. We’ve offered our help, including assistance from Immari Security, to the Indonesian Authorities and neighboring governments. We want to conclude this nightmare. We want to tell our people they’re safe as soon as we possibly can.”

CHAPTER 44

Somewhere off the Java Sea

When Kate woke up the second time, she felt much, much better. Her head hurt less, her body barely ached, and — she could think.

She looked around the room. It was almost dark. How long had she slept? Through the windows, the sun was setting over the sea. It was beautiful, and the view held her attention for a brief moment. The breeze was warm and smelled of salt water. On the porch a ratty rope hammock swayed in the wind, its rusty chains creaking with each gust. The place looked and felt so deserted.

She got up and walked out of the bedroom into a large living room, which opened to the kitchen and a door to the porch. Was she alone? No, there was a man, but—

“Sleeping beauty rises.” The man seemed to appear out of nowhere.

Kate hesitated for a moment, not sure what to say. “You drugged me.”

“Yes, but in my defense, I didn’t do it to ply you with questions and do terrible things to your kids.”

In a flood, it all came back to her. Martin, the drugs, the interrogation. But what had happened after? How did she get here? It didn’t matter. “We have to find those children.”


We
don’t have to do anything. You have to rest, and I have to work.”

“Look—”

“And before that, you need to eat.” The soldier held up something that looked like a prepackaged weight loss meal, but it was more hardy — like a soldier’s ration pack.

Kate leaned closer. Vegetable beef stew with crackers. Or something approximating vegetable beef stew. Kate wanted to turn away, but the sight and smell of the hot food made her stomach churn — she was starving. She hadn’t eaten all day yesterday. She took the meal, sat down, and pulled the plastic off the flimsy carton. A plume of steam rose. She took a bite of the beef and almost spit it out. “God, it’s terrible.”

“Yeah, sorry about that; it’s a little past its expiration, and it wasn’t that great to begin with— No, I don’t have anything else. Sorry.”

Kate took another bite, chewing only briefly before swallowing it down. “Where are we?”

David sat down at the table opposite her. “An abandoned development off the coast of Jakarta. I bought a place here after the developers went bust, figured it would be a good off-the-books safe house in case I ever had to leave Jakarta in a hurry.”

“I don’t remember much of that.” Kate tried the vegetables. The urge to hurl was abating — either it tasted better than the beef or she was getting used to the meal’s general repulsiveness. “We have to go to the authorities.”

“I wish we could.” He slid a printout over to her, an article from Al Jazeera describing a manhunt for them.

Kate choked down some vegetables and half shouted “This is absurd. This is—”

He took back the page. “It won’t matter soon. Whatever they’re planning, it’s happening now. They’re looking for us, and they have government connections. Our options are pretty limited here. I have a lead, and I need to check it out. You’ll be safe here. I need you to tell me—”

“No way I’m staying here.” Kate shook her head. “No way.”

“I know you don’t remember it, but it wasn’t that easy extracting you from Immari custody. These are some very bad people, this is not like the movies where the hero and girl go off on a grand adventure for the sake of plot convenience. This is what we’re going to do: you’re going to tell me everything you know, you have my word that I will do everything I can to save those two children. You will stay here and monitor a web site for new messages.”

“No deal.”

“Look, I’m not offering you a deal, I’m telling you—”

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