Weapon of Atlantis (29 page)

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Authors: Christopher David Petersen

BOOK: Weapon of Atlantis
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Jack only nodded. Concentrating intently, he reached in and grabbed the hologram once more. He lifted up, this time with far less pressure. Both men stared at the instruments, monitoring their progress higher.

“That’s it, Jack. Looks like we’re ascending nice and slow. Keep an eye on the walls of the cavity,” he added.


The diagram shows us ascending almost right up the middle of the cavity. Another thousand feet and we’ll be clear… and it’ll be smooth sailing after that,” he said confidently.

Javi glanced to Jack with apprehension. No words were needed to express his concerns.

Chapter: 7

 

 

Marianna Trench

Container ship: Horizon

Control room…

 

Agent Jeffery Styles sat in front of his console of monitors and controls and sipped his coffee. He scanned across his screens, then set his cup down. He brought his hand to his mouth and yawned. The previous few hours had been quiet and now his eyes felt heavy. As he leaned back in his chair, they slowly began to close.

Standing a short distance away, Special Agents Price and Hammond engaged in light conversation. Engrossed in details of previous missions, they too missed the inconspicuous ‘blip’ that now registered on the wide monitor hanging on the main wall of the control room.

Inside his headset,
Styles began to hear a low consistent tone. With each ‘beep’, the sound began to register in his subconscious. Slowly, the sound grew to distraction. He opened his eyes and stared at his screens. The video feed from the spacecraft docked at the lab, looked unchanged. He scanned another screen and reviewed the numerical data taken from sensors positioned around the craft. Nothing seemed out of place. Glancing to his right, he reviewed the digital image of the ocean’s floor that included the deep circular cavity and the laboratory resting at its bottom. He stared at the tiny spec that seemed to be ascending up through the deep hole. His eyes now snapped open wide and he came to attention in his seat.

He grabbed his mouse and quickly skimmed through the information on each screen, crosschecking videos and sensory data. Nothing seemed to give clue to the identity of the new target.

He keyed his mic, “Agent Wexler, this is the Horizon. How do you read?”

Instantly,
Price and Hammond trained their focus on the younger agent.

“Ag
ent Wexler, acknowledge,” Styles requested, now growing increasingly concerned.

Price and Hammond studied the screen against the wall. The tiny blip that registered on Styles’ smaller computer monitor, looked large and conspicuous on the larger screen.

“Styles, identify that target,” Price ordered.

“I’m trying, Sir. I know it’s not the spacecraft. That’s still showing as docked. It could be a shark or whale,” he offered as a suggestion.

“Negative. That’s forty thousand feet the target is ascending through. Nothing that size can survive at that depth,” Hammond responded.

“Try Wexler again,” Price ordered.

“Yes Sir,” Styles replied. “Agent Wexler, this is the Horizon. Are you reading us? Key your mic if you are.”

No response. Aside from the sound of computer fans, the room was deathly quiet. All
eyes were now focused on Styles.

“Thirty-nine thousand feet,” Hammond reported, his tone filled with alarm.

Price nodded. He keyed his own microphone.

“Wexler, this is Price. If you can hear us, give us a sign: stand in front of the cockpit video; key your mic; create some noise inside the lab. We need to confirm you’re still alive.”

Styles shot Price a look of disbelief. Price had spoken the words all were thinking but weren’t ready to address. With the unthinkable now a reality, their minds quickly shifted to other possibilities.

“Sir, do you think they’re all dead?” Styles asked.

“Someone or something down there is alive,” Price said, pointing to the screen.

“And they’re on their way up,” Hammond added.

“But how? The spacecraft is still docked,” Styles questioned.

“My guess: someone found another spacecraft,” Price shot back.

Hammond nodded emphatically. “And the next question is: are they returning or are they escaping?” he added.

Price shot Hammond a knowing look, then turned back to Styles.

“Monitor the progress. Shout out if the target deviates from its course,” he ordered. He rushed to a panel of controls and grabbed a handheld microphone off the desk. He keyed a button and shouted into it. “All hands, prepare the skiff for launch: full armament. Have the Seahawk ready for recovery in five minutes,” he ordered.

In seconds, the ship came alive. Men in the lower holds, rushed topside to prepare the chase boat. Cargo doors were opened on the top deck and an overhead crane was lowered. A moment later, an eighty foot Mark-
V Special Operations Craft was lifted out of the hold. On each side of its sleek aluminum V-hull, two M-240 machine guns were mounted. At the stern, a single Mk19 automatic grenade launcher, as well as an AT-2 Swatter surface-to-surface guided missile launcher sat menacingly, ready for action. With a top speed of eighty knots, it was the CIA’s fastest boat in their fleet.

As the craft was being lowered into the water, a
Sikorsky SH-60 Seahawk helicopter was lifted from another secret hold. With a lifting capacity of more than seventeen thousand pounds, it had more than enough capacity to handle the weight of the spacecraft. Inside the cockpit, it was equipped with the most advance electronics and could fly in any condition and track any craft, day or night. It was the perfect vehicle for their operation.

Inside the control room, Price and Hammond listened as agents inside the chase vehicles radioed their readiness.

“Horizon one, this is Horizon two. We’re launched and ready: men standing by. The data feed shows the target ascending through thirty-five thousand feet. Waiting on your orders,” reported the pilot of the Mark-V chase boat.

“Roger, Horizon two,” Price responded. “We estimate the target to surface a hundred yards west of our position. Proceed to the location and hold.”

“Yes Sir,” the pilot of the Mark-V chase boat responded.

Second
s later, the Seahawk helicopter reported in.

“Horizon one, this is Horizon three. All systems are operational and ready. Standing by for orders,” the pilot radioed.

“Roger that, Horizon three. At the speed it’s ascending, we estimate the target will surface in just over a half hour. Hold your position until further notice.”

“Yes Sir, Horizon three holding,” the
helicopter pilot radioed.

Price shifted his focus back to the data on the large screen once more. Looking to Hammond, he asked, “I miss anything?”

Hammond shook his head.

“Rate of ascent: unchanged. Path: unchanged,” he responded in
monotone.

Price
nodded, now deep in thought.

“It has to be Wexler,” Hammond surmised. “The
y must have had some kind of mechanical failure down there and he just wasn’t able to contact us.”

Price shook his head.

“It doesn’t make any sense. The cameras are fully functional. If they had some kind of problem down there, he still could’ve signaled us. I just don’t get it. Why couldn’t he get to the cameras?”

“Maybe
someone
stopped him,” Hammond responded in cryptic tone.

“Seems hard to believe a couple of stooges like Arista and Roberts could overpower someone like Wexler. The guy was an expert shot. It’s one of the reasons we selected him in the first place.”

“We’ll know soon enough. If the craft deviates at all from its course, we’ll know it’s them,” Hammond replied.

 

----- ----- ----- -----

 

“We’re climbing through fifteen thousand feet,” Jack said as he studied the data from the hologram.

Javi nodded as he scanned the data on his own thr
ee-dimensional screen.

“I’m guessing we’re above any obstructions at this point,” he responded.

“I wish we had some navigational maps on this thing,” Jack groaned. “I hate the idea of maneuvering in the dark.”

“It’s risky, but we really don’t have much choice. I’m absolutely certain those guys are waiting for us at the top. We need to get far clear of them before we surface,” Javi warned.

Jack nodded, then removed his arctic jacket and pants. Still breathing bottled air, he now reached into the hologram and gently gripped the image of the spacecraft.

“Ready?” he said, more rhetorically than a direct question.

Ever so slightly, he moved the image forward. Instantly, they felt their backs press into their seats as the vehicle began to move forward and vertically through the water.

“Good work, Jack. Nice and slow,” Javi encouraged.

Jack nodded, then moved the image rearward. The direction change was slow and gradual. Outside their cockpit window, they could just make out tiny particles that flowed away from them, confirming their rearward movements.

“How about sideways now?” Jack said, feeling more confident.

He returned the craft to its neutral status, then moved it to the right. The gentle inputs were barely detected as the craft began to drift toward the right.

“Seem
s pretty easy,” Jack said, nervous sweat now building on his brow.

He wiped his free arm across his forehead to remove the drops. Suddenly, they felt
the craft shift abruptly right.

“Whoa!” Javi blurted in surprise.

Jack immediately shifted the image back to neutral. He shot Javi an embarrassed glance.

“Sorry, it’s a bit touchy,” he said simply.

“I guess it is. In that short time, it looks like we shifted our position by a few hundred feet,” Javi commented.

Jack studied a graph of their progress displayed inside the hologram and confirmed Javi’s claim. His heart pounded and he grew more apprehensive by the second.

“Man, I’m so nervous. It feels like the first time I learned how to fly a plane. I think I sweated through my shirt and jacket back then… and that was in the winter,” he said, his voice beginning to quiver.

“Just relax, Jack. Take a deep breath and exhale, then try so
me more maneuvering,” Javi said in a soft encouraging tone.

He glanced to Javi momentarily and asked.

“How can you be so calm at a time like this?”

Javi grinned.

“Jack, believe it or not, I needed a change of underwear ten minutes ago. I’m trying to keep calm for your sake,” he responded.

“Thanks, glad I’m not alone in my terror,” Jack joked. He refocused on the hologram and continued, “Ok, I’m going to try to move us out of the area now. Wish me luck.”

With Jack’s attention facing forward, Javi’s expression changed to fear. He took a deep breath and stared at his own hologram with dread. Jack pushed the image forward with slightly more pressure than he had before. Instantly, the two felt their backs sink into the seats.

“I know it’s dark, but keep a watch out the window. Let me know if you see anything… l
ike a mountain side,” Jack said anxiously.

“I think we’re ok. We’ve climbed to twelve thousand feet. If I’m not mistaken, that graph shows land just below us now,” Javi confirmed.

“Yeah, but somewhere out there, there will be land above us and
that’s
what I’m worried about,” Jack warned.

“At the rate we’re ascending, I think we’ll be ok. By the time we reach the surface, we’ll have long since cleared the rest of the undersea obstacles,” Javi responded.

Jack scanned a numerical graph showing their speed. He tried to make sense of it but gave up.

“Any idea what are speed is? I have no idea what the conversion factor is for velocity,”
he asked.

Javi studied the graph on his hologram. He shrugged his shoulder
s and replied, “Beats me, but I’m betting it’s a lot faster than the Horizon.”

“I sure hope so,” Jack replied. “I’d hate to pop up and have them waiting for us.”

Javi shook his head.

“I’m guessing we’ll be miles from their location. The container ship can’t move as fast as us… I’m guessing thirty knots max. I’m sure we’re doing twice that speed right now. Once we reach the surface and can see where we’re going, there’s no way they can catch us. We’ll be home free,” he said.

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