Time Storm Shockwave (3 page)

Stewart had been
irritated, but it turned to humiliated anger—he tried to hide it. After regaining his composure, he spoke, “You haven’t introduced me to your friend.”

“This is Ashlyn Wright
—” Mark said casually “—she is going to join us. I thought we needed someone who could cook for a change.”

Stewart
stared at her and then finally looked away and gave Mark an incredulous look. He wouldn’t meet Stewart's eyes, and that upset him even more. Normally he was quite passive; after all, Mark was his boss, and Stewart was grateful for the internship, but he had believed that they were also friends.

H
e felt strangely betrayed by Mark’s lack of consideration—
I wish he had asked for my opinion first before bringing some woman on board
—he tried to act nonchalant.

He
poured his eyes over Ashlyn and had to admit that she was something to look at. Having her on board might not be as bad as he thought.

“I’m going to have her stay in the VIP stateroom,” Mark
said casually.

Stewart’s
irritation returned full force—
that’s my room!
—he thought angrily. The other rooms were just fine. “Okay—” he tried hard to hide his tone “—I’ll move my stuff to the crew quarters.”

The original design for the yacht had included more guest rooms, but Mark had ordered th
at space to be customized. That area now contained a high-tech equipment room and an elaborate office for his research.

He
seemed oblivious to Stewart’s feelings on the matter, and it wasn’t like him. Stewart studied Ashlyn suspiciously. She didn’t protest at all. Suddenly, her good looks didn’t look so good. He would have volunteered the room if he had only been given the chance. At least then, he wouldn’t have to feel resentful. He got up and went downstairs to move his belongings.

***

“Would you like the grand tour?” Mark asked
Ashlyn as he gallantly motioned around them.

“I’d love it
.”

“
Right now we are on the flybridge—” he cocked his head “—though I‘m sure you already knew that.” It was on the very top, in the middle of the ship.

He pointed toward the bow
—down a level. Beyond the standard deck paraphernalia, there was a lounge section with a Jacuzzi. The flybridge itself had a secondary helm to use during pleasant weather, two captain’s chairs, and the sofa that Stewart had been sleeping on. There was also a wet bar and a small table. Above and behind the helm was a tower with various antennas and radar equipment.

Still on the top deck, he motioned down the stairs
toward the stern. There was a small motor boat covered and stored there, as well as various crates and tools.

“There isn’t much to see down there.”

“Do you use that boat much?—” she asked curiously “—How do you get it off the ship?”

“It has a lifting crane
—” he indicated an apparatus “—I don’t use it very often. The draft of the yacht is less than six feet, and I can usually get to a dock if I’m going in for supplies.”

He continued the tour by taking her
down into the pilothouse—they had come through it on the way up. A large number of radar screens, monitors, and other equipment filled the area. The communications desk had a satellite telephone, radio, and other electronic equipment.

“Looks like you have everything you could possibly need—” she gave him a lopsided grin “—I don’t even know what half of this stuff is.”

“I don’t either—” he furrowed his brow and then laughed “—actually I do, but I suppose it’s a bit overdone.”

“At least you don’t have to worry about not having something you need—” she tilted her head flirtatiously “—maybe you can teach me how to use
all of it.”

He nodded, suddenly uncomfortable by her aggressiveness
, and the thought crossed his mind—
I hope I made the right decision
—but he motioned around the room continuing the tour.

A plush sofa wrapped around part of the room until it ended at the downward spiral staircase. Large angled windows covered the top half of the front and sides.

Looking at the windshield wipers, she spoke nervously, “Have you ever been caught in a storm out here?”

“Of course
—” confused he said “—I thought you lived on a boat for a while. Surely, you’ve been in a storm.”

She blushed, “Well, of course, but this is
…you know …”

“The Bermuda Triangle?”
he completed her statement.

“Yeah,” she averted her eyes for a second.

“That’s what I’m out here studying. I mean I’m looking for anomalous readings, electromagnetic fields, and—” he hesitated “—things like that.”

“I guess you told me
, but I really didn’t think about it,” she admitted.

“You can still get out of this arrangement if you want,” he offered.

“No, I’m fine—” she laughed at herself “—I didn’t think I was superstitious.”

“I don’t think it i
s superstition—” he spoke seriously “—I think there is something real and explainable going on out here.”

When she didn’t say anything, he gestured toward the staircase, “Shall we?”

They went down to the aft deck where they had been before. Now there was more time to look around. There was another sofa, as well as a table. A large flat-screen TV covered part of the wall near the entrance to the salon. They walked through the open smoked-colored sliding-glass doors into the parlor. A plush beige carpet embossed with a subtle diamond design covered the floor. Large windows enveloped the starboard and port sides of the room about half way up. Deluxe furnishings, a sofa, easy chairs, and elegant cabinetry graced the room.

The forward section was a dining area with a glass-topped table; elegant lighting and works of art adorned the walls. The next section contained staircases in the center leading down to a foyer connecting the downstairs office, lab, equipment room, engine room, and crew quarters. He pointed them out but didn’t show them to her.

Doors on both sides exited to outside walkways leading to the bow of the ship and Jacuzzi area, with internal hallways leading to the galley. That dining room was less formal than the other one. It had all the usual cooking and kitchen appliances. As in the other rooms, it had a television built into the wall.

“Just let me know of any supplies you want me to buy before we leave port,” he offered.

She nodded her agreement.

The end of the room had a staircase leading to the master and VIP staterooms
—
I hope Stewart’s finished moving out
—Mark took her straight to her room. The bed had already been stripped, and new bedding was stacked on the bed.

“I can have Stewart make the bed for you,” Mark said uncomfortably.

“No—” she shook her head “—that’s all right. I can do it myself.”

The VIP room was quite magnificent. It had its own television and entertainment
center. It had a private bathroom, far too elaborates to refer to it as a head. It had everything, complete with a Jacuzzi tub.

“Well—” he set her suitcase down “—that’s it.”

“Yeah, that’s it. You say it as if it’s no big deal. It’s really nice—” she asked   “—do you live on the boat year round?”

“Yes—” he smiled like a school boy “—I have
everything I need.” He loved his boat, but he hadn’t shown it to many people.

They climbed
the stairs to the galley. Stewart was sitting there, a stormy expression clouding his face. “So, how did you guys meet?”

“My appointment didn’t show, and we just kind of bumped into each other
and—” Mark shrugged “—we started talking.”

“You just bumped into each other
?—” Stewart’s voice oozed sarcasm “—convenient.”

Mark furrowed his brow—
what’s his problem?
—he wondered, but didn’t say anything.

“
Actually—” she took his arm and smiled at him “—I kind of bumped into him.”

***

Stewart turned his head so that Mark wouldn’t see him roll his eyes
—
I can’t believe he’s buying this
…
she’s after something. I know it! She probably wants his money
—he thought and clinched his jaw. He would have to protect his friend.

Mark had never acted this way as long as Stewart had known him. Ashlyn seemed to have some kind of hold over him. She was beautiful for sure, but …this was ridiculous …and so fast!

“You know, I’m kind of hungry—” he had to do something “—why don’t we find out if she really can cook before we leave port?”

“We just ate, so you’re on your o
wn for this one,” Mark answered thoughtlessly.

“Insult to injury,” Stewart mumbled under his breath as he opened the refrigerator.
He shook his head, dumbfounded—
it’s not as if he has trouble attracting women, why her?
—he considered apprehensively.

Ashlyn started rummaging through the galley
, and then she announced, “I’m going to check if we need to buy anything before we put out to sea.”

“I’ll be in the pilothouse,”
Mark told her and left them alone.

Stewart decided to take advantage of
the moment, “So, you’ve never met Mark before today?”

“No,”
she answered without looking at him. She was taking inventory; her head buried in one of the cabinets.

“And you never heard of him
either?” he pressed.

There was a nearly imperceptible pause, and then she answered him,
“No.”

He persisted, “Not even his name?”

This time she didn’t answer. Instead, she pulled her head out of the cabinet and stared at him.

“Why are you asking
me this?”

He began to feel
uncomfortable. Her tone seemed somewhat menacing. She stepped toward him, and he backed up a bit.

“I was just wondering,” he answered
slowly, unnerved, and almost afraid.

Her face went cold, and her eyes burned into his.
“Stay out of it!”

There was no question that it was a threat. He didn’t know what she was after
, but he was certain that she was dangerous.

Chapter 3

As I
gaze upon the sea all the old romantic legends, all my dreams,

come
back to me. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

~

Along the east side of Andros Island in the Bahamas, lays a deep oceanic trench known as the
Tongue of the Ocean
. It drops suddenly from an average water depth of around one hundred and fifteen feet to over six thousand feet, and it extends for nearly one hundred miles. It is easily seen from space by the variation in color from the light-blue shallow waters to the deep dark-blue of the extreme depths.

It is along th
e Tongue of the Ocean that the AUTEC—Atlantic Underwater Test and Evaluation Center—Naval Bases are situated. With appropriate credentials and forewarning, one of the bases is open to the public, not much is known about the others. Via satellite images, the submarine channels cut into the ocean are clearly visible, some are marked on the map, and some are not.

***

Albuquerque, New Mexico

A man sat at a bar drinking Puerto Rican rum directly from the bottle. A tattoo of an anchor wrapped by a sea serpent was visible under the sweat beading on his left bicep. The television behind the bar droned on, unnoticed by most of the occupants. Newscaster, Jeff Landro, was reporting the disappearance of an eighty-year-old woman, who by all accounts had simply vanished in front of a crowd of onlookers.

The man, clearly intoxicated
, started shouting at the bartender when the story finally entered his muddled brain.

“There, you see
—” he slurred his words and nearly fell off his chair “—it was just like that. It’s aliens, I’m tellin’ you.”

“Okay Jake, I think you’ve had enough,” the bartender walked around to the other side of the
counter, and forcefully encouraged the man to leave.

***

Mark and Stewart had been systematically following their list of reported incidents. Stewart specialized in underwater technology and
the equipment on board was top of the line. They had instruments usually reserved only for the military, including a sub-aquatic wireless broadband system. Of course, they wouldn’t be surfing the Web from below, but the many wireless sensors they had placed would greatly simplify the data retrieval process.

Mark was determined to make some kind of rational sense out of all the Bermuda Triangle stories. He would have chalked it all up to nonsense and folklore. However, one of his most respected friends from UCLA, Dr. Nathanial Growlier had told Mark a personal story that could not be ignored. Furthermore, it had ignited a fascination in him that could not be easily quenched.

It had been nearly a week since Ashlyn’s arrival. In their rare moments alone, Stewart had tried to talk to Mark about his concerns of distrust, but Mark was clearly smitten and didn’t want to hear it. Ashlyn was beautiful, a good diver, and a terrific cook. She was even adept at computers and technology—a perfect asset to join them in their research. She seemed pleasant enough except for that first day, but he was still wary; it was all too convenient.

They docked at Bimini Island for a few supplies. Mark took Stewart with him to help carry the provisions back while Ashlyn stayed behind on the yacht to finish a book she had been reading.

“Her story seems a bit fishy if you ask me,” Stewart said, trying to break through Mark’s stupor.

Mark studied
Stewart’s face for a moment, wondering if that was meant as a joke. The book was about fish, literally, the undersea types that were native to the Bahamas.

“Are you
joking, trying to be punny—” Mark asked “—what is your problem with her?”

Stewart
genuinely hadn’t noticed his pun, and laughed aloud when he got the point, “I guess that was kind of funny.”

“
Listen—” Mark pressed “—you have got to get over your jealousy of Ashlyn.”

Offended, Stewart glared at him and spo
ke angrily, “Seriously, jealousy? I’m not in love with you.”

“I didn’t mean
it that way—” Mark shook his head “—she’s just good at everything. I’m not surprised that you feel intimidated.”

“What?
Honestly, you haven’t been listening to me at all—” Stewart threw up his hands in frustration “—I don’t trust her, there is a huge difference. I think she is dangerous, and I don’t know what she is after.”

Mark stopped
, and turned to face Stewart, “Okay, tell me why.”

“I don’t know
exactly—” Stewart was quiet for a moment “—it’s more of a gut feeling than anything else, I guess. I don’t have any proof, but …if you had seen her when I was alone with her that first day you would …She is dangerous. Can’t you just trust me about that?”

“Then it’s settled
—” Mark shook his head dismissively “—I like her cooking, she’s a good diver, and she thinks of things that we both miss.”

“Okay
—” Stewart let out an exasperated breath “—but this is on you my friend. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

It took far longer than planned to obtain their supplies. It was dark when they headed back to the boat. Mark stopped abruptly and handed Stewart the packages he was carrying.

With no more explanation than, “I’ll be right back, I forgot something,” Mark walked off.

“I hate it when he does that,” Stewart said aloud to no one.

Unsure of how long Mark’s ‘right back’ was going to be, Stewart put the things he was carrying down on a bench outside a tavern of some sort. Movement in the shadows caught his attention. It was a bit difficult to see in the dark, but he was certain it was Ashlyn talking quietly to some man.

Stealthily, he moved close enough to see her more clearly
, but he couldn’t hear what she was saying. The man handed her something, but Stewart couldn’t tell what it was—
so much for her fishy fish book
—he thought.

He didn’t approach her; he would let Mark see for himself.
However, by the time Mark returned, she was nowhere to be found.

“Are you sure it was her?” Mark asked, annoyed.

“Of course—” Stewart was offended “—I know you think I’m paranoid, but I’m not blind.”

“Maybe she was looking for us?” Mark countered.

“Oh, come on man—” Stewart was boiling with frustration “—if she were looking for us, she would have found us.”

“I’m sure she has some perfectly logical reason
—” Mark justified “—we’ll just ask her when she gets back to the boat.”

As it turned
out, she was on the yacht when they got back, sitting there, fish book in hand as if she had gone nowhere at all.

“Enjoying your book?”
Stewart said sarcastically.

“Actually, it’s
very interesting—” she eyed him strangely “—why?”

“So you’ve been reading that boring fish book the entire time we’ve been gone
?” Stewart demanded.

“Yes, what are you accusing me of?
—” Her eyes narrowed “—is being interested in marine biology a crime now?”

Stewart
opened his mouth to reply when Mark interjected, “He just thought he saw you by one of the shops, it was dark. I told him it wasn’t you.”

Imperceptively
, Ashlyn clinched her jaw, and then she rolled her eyes at Stewart before going back to her book.

Stewart
followed Mark into the other room and said, “Her reaction was weird.”

“I didn’t notice anything
—” Mark was tired of the constant complaints about her “—if there
was
a change in her expression it was probably irritation, just like the look on my face, see?” He pointed to himself.

“Wait,” Stewart tried to follow him.

“Are you going to follow me into the can as well? Give it a rest,” Mark shook his head and shut the door between them.

When Stewart went back to the salon, Ashlyn was gone. What was he to do, follow her to her room too? There was little hope that she had not heard every word, the walls were not thick. He paced around for a while, but when he realized that he was alone for the night, he went down to his room in the crew quarters.

His new accommodations reminded him of the situation, and it angered him all over again. His thoughts kept him awake for a while, but eventually the exhaustion from the day’s work made him fall asleep. Neither of them noticed Ashlyn’s quiet return to the boat several hours later.

***

“Madeira, this is OceanAire flight 705 requesting landing instructions, over
—” the copilot waited for a response then repeated “—Tower, this is OceanAire flight 705 requesting landing instructions, over.”

The pilot came back into the cockpit and strapped himself in. “Man, that coffee is bad tonight.”

“Yeah well, look at who made it; you don’t think they hired her because of her coffee making skills, do you?—” the co-pilot joked, and they both laughed, and then he repeated “—Funchal Airport, this is OceanAire flight 705 requesting landing instructions. Please respond.”

“What’s going on?”
the pilot asked.

“I’ve called three t
imes, and they haven’t answered.”

“Have you tried calling in Portuguese? Maybe the English speakers are all off shift tonight,” he gr
inned.

“
Right—” he said, and then spoke in broken Portuguese “—
Olá! acorde e dê-nos instruções da aterragem
.”

Still, there was no response.

“I don’t see anything on radar—” the pilot said nervously “—are you sure you didn’t take us off autopilot too soon?”

Both of them began double-checking everything.

“We should be right on top of them; the GPS confirms our latitude and longitude—” the co-pilot said “—this is weird, we should see lights.”

The pilot tried contacting the tower
himself, but still there was no response. He pulled out his cell phone and turned it on. There was no signal; they should have been close enough to be bouncing off several cell towers by now. He was about to try connecting through the onboard satellite phone system, when all the instruments began to malfunction.

“Look at the naviga
tional compass!” the co-pilot said, alarmed.

Both the digital and magnetic compasses began to spin wildly. It was dark, the horizon was
completely obscured, and the navigation system wasn’t working.

“May Day!
—May Day!” the pilot shouted into the radio just before they hit the ocean at full speed.

***

Ashlyn, typically the first to awaken, was still sleeping when Stewart opened his eyes. He
definitely did not like her, did not trust her, and wished that she would go away. However, he was hungry and couldn’t wait for breakfast. Even in the short time she had been with them, he had grown accustomed to the smell of bacon cooking in the morning.

Mark walked into the galley. He had been up on the deck planning the day’s events, “Where’s Ashlyn?”

“You’re asking me?” Mark didn’t miss the sarcasm in Stewart’s voice and scowled at him.

As if on cue,
she came up the stairs looking less energetic than usual.

“Are you okay?” Mark
’s voice dripped with concern, and Stewart didn’t bother turning away before rolling his eyes.

“I’m
alright, I just didn’t sleep well.”

“You don’t need to cook breakfast this morning if
you don’t feel up to it,” Mark said gently.

Stewart closed his eyes, clenched his fists, and wanted to scream
—
what is wrong with you, Mark?—
Instead, Stewart said mockingly, “I don’t feel well either.”

His statement
fell on deaf ears, Mark’s deaf ears anyway; Ashlyn didn’t miss it. She turned so that Mark could not see and shot Stewart a look that said, “Don’t push it.”

How he wished he had a camera right then so that Mark could see that expression. He was sure it was a warning, another threat, only this time unspoken.

“It’s not a problem. I can cook, I’m just tired,” she said with a sleepy smile.

“I’m going to take the day off,” Stewart announ
ced to no one in particular, and then climbed off the boat onto the dock and walked away.

***

Mark stared after him, puzzled by Stewart’s sudden departure.

“What’s with him?” He turned to Ashlyn.

“I wouldn’t worry about
it. I’m sure he just feels threatened by my presence. I did take his room and …well, it’s easy to see why there might be some hard feelings.”

“He knows that we were planning on leaving this morning. I wasn’t going to come back here for at least a week.
The place is halfway to Puerto Rico—” Mark steamed “—I don’t want to wait all morning while he throws a tantrum.”