by S. L. Menear
Although the kiss was necessary, and Lance was insanely handsome with his Adonis face, broad shoulders, and rock-hard abs, the imminent danger made my heart race more than his skillful kiss.
Moments later, Dragon Master returned and shoved us through a side door. He was surprisingly strong for an old guy. The tiny cabin had an open porthole. Despite his age, he shimmied through the window and dropped into an idling boat tied alongside.
“Help her through porthole,” Dragon Master commanded as he reached up for me.
I wobbled, not quite recovered from the triple shock of the mesmerizing kiss, the imminent danger, and meeting Dragon Master again. Lance lifted me and fed my legs through the opening, and I dropped into the boat.
Dragon Master said, “You go to hotel now. I bring her to airplane tonight.”
Before Lance could reply, the old man released the line and accelerated away.
Lance rushed up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He shoved money into the waiter’s hand. “Sorry, we’re late for our trip.” He waved at Jeff, who rushed to join him.
They ran down the gangway and leaped into the nearest water taxi.
“Lotus Blossom Hotel. There’s an extra twenty if you get us there in ten minutes,” Lance said. “Family emergency.”
The boat captain untied the dock line and accelerated away.
Lance glanced at Jeff. “My sister was in an auto accident.”
Jeff nodded. He knew Lance didn’t have a sister, and Sam’s absence meant something major had just happened.
In moments, their water taxi had blended into a maze of boat traffic. Lance glanced at his watch.
Ten minutes later, their boat docked across the street from their hotel. Lance paid the fare plus twenty dollars and thanked the captain.
Lance raced into the lobby elevator with Jeff close behind. A family stood inside.
When the two men stepped out onto their floor, Jeff said, “What happened?”
“We need to put on our uniforms and head for the airport. I’ll grab my stuff and change in your room so I can explain.” Lance opened his door and rushed inside.
Moments later, he knocked on Jeff’s door. He held his uniform on a hanger in one hand and his suitcase in the other.
“Get in here and tell me what the hell happened,” Jeff said as he pulled his shirt off.
Lance told him the sequence of events as he rushed to change into his uniform. “The old guy said he’d bring her to the plane tonight.”
As Jeff knotted his tie, he said, “We can leave a message for the flight attendants that we went early to check maintenance items.”
“Those Chinese spooks will look for us here. If we leave now, we’ll have time to come up with a plan.” Lance shoved his civilian clothes into his suitcase.
“How do you know we can trust Dragon Master?” Jeff asked. “I mean, those men might be on his team.”
“Shit! It all happened so fast, but they wouldn’t have rushed past us if they were working with him. If he’s on our side, how’s he going to sneak her onto our airplane tonight?”
Jeff closed his suitcase and grabbed his captain’s hat. “The spooks are looking for a blonde. The black wig will help, but Sam’s a lot taller than most Chinese women, and her unusual eyes and big breasts will be hard to conceal.”
“Maybe she’ll get a message to us through a mechanic or a baggage handler.” Lance pulled on his uniform jacket. “Let’s go.”
They grabbed their bags and headed down in the elevator. After leaving their keys at the front desk with a message for their flight attendants, they caught a cab for the airport.
They breezed through Customs and boarded the jet. After powering up the electrical and air-conditioning systems, they ran through their cockpit checks and discussed a plausible reason for Sam’s absence. Every scenario sounded lame.
Jeff got out of his seat. “I’m going to the galley to brew some coffee. When you do the walkaround, look for a hidden message from Sam or Dragon Master.”
Lance pulled on his jacket and grabbed his hat. “I’m on it.” He headed down the jetway steps and started his inspection at the nose gear.
A Chinese man in a reflective vest and orange hardhat tapped his shoulder. Lance turned. The man held out his right arm and showed him a tattoo on his forearm. It was a dragon clutching a trident.
Lance recognized the tattoo. Dragon Master had one just like it.
The man ducked inside the wheel well. Lance joined him. He opened his hand and slipped a folded note to Lance, then nodded and left.
Lance casually slid the note into his pocket and continued his outside check of the aircraft.
His heart raced as he tried to focus on the walkaround. Were Chinese secret agents watching? He finished the inspection and hurried up the jetway steps.
USS LEVIATHAN
“How big is it?” Captain Rowlin asked the sonar operator over the intercom.
“About a hundred and sixty feet when it was swimming toward the Hall of Records. Then it seemed to become part of the building, so it’s hard to tell.”
“What the hell is it?” Rowlin asked.
“I don’t know, sir. Never seen anything like it. All I can say is it’s not manmade. Definitely a biologic.”
Rowlin called Dive Ops. “Bern, did the divers sever their cables?”
“Affirmative, Captain, cables are severed, but their backup radios can’t get reception inside that stone building. They still have forty-four hours of air.”
“Good.” Rowlin hit the PA button. “Dr. Kip Peterson, report to the bridge.” He turned to his XO. “I hope our marine biologist can tell us what we’re up against.”
A few minutes later, Peterson entered the bridge.
“Ah, Kip, looks like we may have another sea monster. This one’s too big to be a megalodon, and it can change its shape.”
Peterson nodded to Rowlin and then stared down at the placid sea. “How big and where is it?”
“Sonar said it was a hundred and sixty feet long when it swam to the Hall of Records, but then it appeared to become part of the building. What the hell?”
His eyes widened. “Oh shit, this time it really is a kraken—better known as a giant squid. He probably perched on the roof with his tentacles draped over the building. That would make him hard to see on sonar.”
“Seriously?” the XO said. “Is that even possible?”
“After our encounter with the megalodons, I believe almost anything is possible down in Atlantis,” Peterson said.
“So how do we kill it before it gets our divers?” Rowlin asked.
Peterson thought a moment. “Well, if it’s on the building the divers are in, we can’t torpedo it. And if it’s in open water, torpedoes won’t explode on its soft flesh. They’ll go right through it and maybe hit one of the subs.”
“So how do we turn it into shark food?” This from XO Lowes.
“Don’t send in the Scorpion subs,” Peterson said. “Too dangerous. They’re only thirty feet. The squid could crush them in its tentacles or pierce their hulls with its beak.”
Rowlin shook his head. “A breach at that depth would implode a Scorpion.”
“Can it reach inside the building with a tentacle and grab a diver?” Lowes asked.
“What are the building’s dimensions?” Peterson pulled out his cell and tapped the calculator function.
Rowlin looked upward. “As I recall, it has an eighty-foot perimeter, the roof is eighteen feet high with a fifteen-foot interior ceiling, and the open doorway is ten feet square.”
“Assuming the beast is perched on the roof and allowing for the body section, or mantle, as it’s called, that leaves about a hundred and twenty feet for the long feeding tentacles.” Peterson tapped numbers on the keypad. “The longest distance inside the building is twenty-six feet diagonally. Add the eighteen-foot roof and half the diagonal width for draping over it before entering, and that’s only fifty-seven feet total. The giant squid won’t be able to
fit more than one tentacle inside, but it’s plenty long enough to reach anywhere in there.” He pocketed his cell. “Our divers won’t stand a chance.”
Rowlin raked his buzz cut. “Maybe Texas can draw it away. She’s almost four hundred feet of double-hulled steel—should be safe, right?”
“How good is their navigation officer?” Peterson asked. “Could they do a low pass and still miss everything down there?”
“I’ll send an emergency message to Texas’s captain, but even if they can draw it away, they can’t fire one of their torpedoes. Their weapons aren’t designed for biologics, and we can’t risk hitting those other subs.” Rowlin dictated the message to his comm officer.
Minutes later, Rowlin received a reply from the USS Texas. “He said they’ll dive at it, hit it with an active ping, and then blow their ballast and lead it to the surface so we can smoke it with our deck cannons.”
Lowes grinned. “Sweet.”
Peterson nodded. “That could work.”
“It could, but Atlantis is full of surprises. No way it’ll be that easy.” Rowlin called the moon pool operator. “Get both Scorpion crews ready to launch with full armament and have them standby. I’ll brief them in person if the mission is a go. Tell them we’re trying something else first.”
A comm operator sprinted up to Rowlin and thrust a satellite phone at him. “Emergency call for you from Samantha Starr.”
A giant tentacle snaked inside the Hall of Records, probing around like a blind man feeling his way.
Paralyzed with fear, Vicky’s heavy breathing was broadcast to Banger through the voice-activated intercom system that allowed the divers to talk to each other.
Banger tapped her suit. “Stay calm and keep your floodlight on the tentacle. It probably won’t find us up here on top of the innermost vault, and I have the cutting tool ready. But keep still in case it can track vibrations.”
“You warned me there were monsters down here, but I thought you were just hazing the new girl.” She paused. “Oh God, it’s checking the top of that vault!”
“It’s still a long way from us. It probably can’t reach this far,” he said for her sake. He held the rotary cutter in front of him and hoped he had enough battery power to fight the inevitable battle.
An enormous tentacle with huge, pulsating cups crept closer.
Six
Hong Kong International Airport
Lance entered the cockpit and closed the door. “I met a guy outside with a tattoo like the one on Dragon Master’s forearm. He gave me a note.”
Jeff glanced back over his shoulder. “What’s it say?”
Lance pulled out the note and read aloud. “Golden Twin will come during loading dressed as mechanic. She will hide in electronics bay. This note written on rice paper. Eat now.”
“Could be poison. You’d better flush it.” Jeff checked his watch.
A loud knock on the cockpit door jarred them. “Ministry of State Security, open door!”
Lance shoved the paper into his mouth, chewed it, and swallowed it. He grabbed a bottle of water and took a swig before he opened the door.
“Pilots, come out now!” A Chinese man in civilian clothes waved an MSS ID at them.
Three men waited with him in the passenger cabin. Lance recognized them as the ones who’d come for Sam on the floating restaurant. They flashed their MSS credentials.
After the leader searched the cockpit, he said, “Where is Captain Samantha Starr?”
Before they could answer, the cabin crew boarded. Cindy, the curvaceous blonde lead flight attendant, shoved a suitcase through the cockpit door and hung a coat bag in the cockpit closet. She then strolled up to Jeff. “I put Sam’s stuff in the cockpit.”
Jeff and the lead MSS agent said simultaneously, “Where is she?”
“She left me a note at the hotel asking me to bring her stuff and said she’d meet us on the airplane.” Cindy glanced at her watch. “She should be here any minute.”
“Okay, good.” Jeff towered over the short MSS agents. “Gentlemen, how can we help you?”
“We want to talk to Captain Starr. I will wait in cockpit, and they will wait in boarding area. You may go about your duties.” The lead secret service agent nodded to his comrades.
Jeff and Lance entered the cockpit and ran all their checklists again for the agent’s benefit. They kept everything professional and refrained from chitchat.
Thirty minutes passed, and no Sam.
The passengers began boarding. Fifty high-tech industry executives and their spouses were returning from a four-day business conference. They were scheduled for a two-day stop in Hawaii before continuing to San Jose International Airport and their jobs in Silicon Valley. The passengers Luxury International Airlines had brought in the previous day had left on a thirty-day VIP tour of China, so the timing had worked out perfectly for the two charter flights.
As Lance stood in the cockpit door and greeted passengers, the lead MSS agent slid past him, checked his watch, and strode out to the jetway. He called another MSS agent, who hurried down the jetway and took the stairway door to the ramp.
Lance stuck his head in the cockpit and whispered, “The spook that was in our cockpit is on the jetway, and another one just went down to the ramp.”
“Be cool. He’s probably checking the cargo bays. Sam will be in disguise if she’s out there.” Jeff glanced out the side window.
Lance turned back to the cabin and smiled at the weary-looking passengers. A vibration under his feet indicated the cargo doors had closed. Not long after that, an MSS agent came up from the ramp and reported to the lead man. It was obvious from their facial expressions that he hadn’t found Sam.
A LIA passenger service representative handed the passenger manifest to Cindy and smiled at Lance. “All passengers are on board, and you’re cleared to depart.” She noticed the MSS agents. “Gentlemen, it’s departure time. Please step off so we can close out the flight.”
“One of your pilots is missing,” the lead MSS agent said. “Aren’t you going to wait for her?”
“That’s up to Captain Rowlin, but we have strict rules about departing on time,” the airline’s representative said.
After Lance settled in the copilot seat, the LIA rep entered the cockpit. “Captain Rowlin, the MSS agents want to know whether you intend to wait for Captain Starr or depart on time?”
“We have a schedule to keep, and we don’t need a relief pilot for the flight to Hawaii. She’ll have to catch a commercial flight home. Button us up.” Jeff waved her out.
After the boarding door and galley doors were closed, Lance called Cindy on the interphone. “Did the MSS agents get off?”
“Yep, we’re good to go, except I haven’t seen Sam.”
“Hang on a sec.” Lance looked over at Jeff. “The spooks are off, but Cindy hasn’t seen Sam. What do you want her to do?”
“I’ll talk to her.” Jeff selected the interphone button. “Cindy, carry on as normal and we’ll discuss Sam on the way back to the States.” He released the parking brake and began the start procedure for the right engine as the ground crew pushed them back.
“Jeff?” Lance asked, his voice cracking.
“Wait ’til we’re airborne.” He held his right thumb up and grinned. “We’re good.”
Lance nodded and continued his normal duties, his jaw clenched and his body rigid.
After takeoff, they were given a turn on course and cleared to their cruise altitude. Jeff switched on the autopilot and released his shoulder harness. “You’ve got the airplane. I’m going to let Sam out of the electronics bay. She’s probably waiting for us to tell her the coast is clear.”
“How’d you know she was in there?”
As Jeff stood, he said, “I saw the door light for the electronics bay blink on right after that MSS agent left the ramp. The door closed a few seconds later. Has to mean she’s on board.”
“Dang it, Jeff, I about had a heart attack thinkin’ we’d left her st
randed.” Lance blew out a sigh. “Get her. I won’t relax until I see she’s here.”
Jeff lifted the floor panel that accessed the electronics bay beneath the aft end of their oversized, specially designed cockpit.
An elderly man with a Fu Manchu mustache looked up at him.
USS LEVIATHAN
The USS Texas, a huge nuclear-powered submarine, shot out of the water and made an enormous splash when it landed on the sea.
Rowlin focused his binoculars on the area behind the submarine. “Where’s the friggin’ kraken?”
The words had no sooner left his mouth when his comm officer burst onto the bridge.
“Captain, the Iranian submarine, Ghadir 962, is sending out a Mayday. They were cruising near the path Texas took on its way up, and the giant squid attacked them. It’s wrapped around their hull, and one of its tentacles must’ve fouled their propeller. They’re dead in the water.”
“That’s a ninety-five-foot diesel-electric sub, right?” Rowlin asked.
“Yes, sir.”
Lowes shook his head. “That Iranian sub is sixty-five feet shorter than the squid, and it’s only rated for a maximum depth of one thousand feet. If the kraken pulls it to the bottom, it’ll implode.”
“Why the hell don’t they blow their ballast?” Rowlin asked, frustrated.
“Maybe they did, and the immense weight of that squid is holding them down,” Peterson said.
Rowlin turned to his comm officer. “Ask Texas if they can maneuver beneath the Iranian sub and lift it to the surface.”
“Aye, Captain.” He rushed out.
“Even if they push them up to the surface, we still can’t fire at the giant squid while it’s wrapped around that sub,” Kip said.
“I have an idea.” Rowlin keyed the PA system. “Commander Bern, report to the bridge.”
The comm officer’s voice filled the bridge speakers. “Captain, Texas will try and lift the Iranian sub.”
“Good,” Rowlin said, keying the mike. “Keep me informed.”