Stranded (A Samantha Starr Thriller, Book 4)

by S. L. Menear

  As we sped along at cruise altitude, I glanced back at the little Chinese guy. “Have you ever spent any time on a boat, Dragon Master?”

  “Yes, Golden Twin, I served as captain on sailing junk that fished you out of Weddell Sea. I prefer sailing ships, but I also have expertise on power boats.”

  “Wait a minute, the Weddell Sea? Are you saying you were the captain on the boat that kidnapped me?” My voice shot up an octave.

  He nodded. “So sorry.”

  “Why should she trust you?” Jeff asked, his voice tight.

  “Atlanteans all dead. I serve Golden Twin now. She last heir to throne.” He bowed his head.

  “What throne?” I arched my brows and half turned.

  “Throne for ruler of Atlantis,” Dragon Master said.

  “You’re kidding. Rule an abandoned underwater city?” I asked. “I’m not a mermaid.”

  “Weapon is already activated in black pyramid. Fire it and raise city.” He said it like it was no big deal to drown millions of people in the giant tidal waves that would be created by raising Atlantis.

  “Forget it. My loyalty is to America. I won’t drown my fellow countrymen so I can rule a dead city,” I said. “If you really do serve me now, you’d better make damn sure Atlantis stays at the bottom of the sea.”

  He nodded. “As you wish, Golden Twin.”

  Lance glanced at me with wide eyes and mouthed, “WTF?”

  “Sam, are you sure we can trust this guy to help my son?” Jeff asked.

  “Dragon Master is an expert on dragon currents, or ley lines, as the Brits call them, and all things Atlantean, but he doesn’t have super powers. I’m sure Max and his SEALs can handle him.” I reached up and switched on the seatbelt sign, then made a brief arrival announcement before beginning our descent for Honolulu.

  I flew a hands-on approach and made a smooth landing. After I taxied to the gate, we finished our checklists and waited for someone from the State Department to bring the necessary paperwork for Dragon Master to enter the USA.

  Jeff opened the cockpit door and said goodbye to our passengers as they disembarked for a two-day stop on Oahu.

  After the last person deplaned, an admiral decked out in a white uniform with full regalia boarded with a man in a dark suit.

  “Captain Rowlin, I’m Admiral Ruth Jacobs, and this is Richard Leach from the State Department. Please allow Captain Starr and her friend to step out.”

  I exited onto the jetway with my Asian charge. “This is the man known as Dragon Master,” I said. “He has sworn to serve me.”

  Mr. Leach pulled out a camera and took a few pictures. “This will do for now.” He handed Dragon Master a State Department ID.

  Our head flight attendant, Cindy, stood nearby, taking it all in.

  “All right, Captain Starr, grab your bag,” Admiral Jacobs said. “It’s a matter of national security. We have two fast movers waiting on the tarmac to fly you two to Key West and get you to the USS Leviathan as soon as possible.”

  A man in a G-suit appeared with two G-suits in hand. “Put these on.”

  “What this for?” Dragon Master asked.

  “The suit helps you tolerate G-forces in a fighter jet.” He thrust one at me and one at the old guy.

  I looked out the jetway window and spotted two F/A-18F fighter jets parked nearby. They were the two-seat trainer version of the single-seat Super Hornet my brother Matt flew in his Navy squadron.

  I nudged the guy who’d given me the flight suit. “Are you one of the Hornet pilots?”

  He nodded. “Lieutenant Don Dixon at your service, Captain Starr. Callsign Jackpot.”

  I crossed my arms. “I’m not going unless you let me do the takeoff, some fun stuff on the climb, and the landing in Key West.”

  Stunned, he glanced at the admiral, clearly not wanting to fail in front of the woman in command of the Pacific fleet. “Uh, we’re not allowed—”

  Admiral Jacobs interrupted him, “Let her fly the damn plane.” She turned to me. “Hurry, Captain Starr. Every minute counts.”

  I grinned as I stripped off my uniform jacket, shoved it and my hat into my bag, and pulled on the G-suit.

  “Wait!” Cindy handed me a tiny velvet pouch. “My sister is a marine engineer on that ship. Her name is Vicky Edwards. Please give her this necklace I bought in Hong Kong for her birthday.”

  I shoved it in a zippered pocket. “Alrighty, I’ll find her after I deal with the big emergency.” I grabbed my bag and paused. “I’ll be back ASAP, Boss.” I waved goodbye to Jeff and Lance and trotted down the jetway stairs to the ramp.

  It’s rare for a non-military pilot to get a chance to fly a fighter jet that’s still in active service. If the Navy was going to mess up my flight check on the 767, the least they could do was let me have some fun in the Super Hornet.

  Jackpot tapped my shoulder. “Uh, this is considered an emergency, so we’re waiving the usual ejection-seat training and pre-flight lecture, but I can explain everything on the way to Key West.”

  “No need,” I said. “My brother checked me out in an F/A-18F last fall. I’m good to go, but I’m pretty sure the old guy has never flown in a fighter.”

  As Jackpot led Dragon Master to the other Navy pilot, I texted Ross my new route so he’d know why my watch’s GPS signal was making a supersonic track to Key West.

  It wasn’t long before we were on the takeoff roll. The Super Hornet pinned me in my seat as we rocketed down the runway. We continued to accelerate as I pulled back on the stick and executed a rolling vertical climb. Woo hoo!

  The overwater portion of our flight was way faster than Mach 1. We slowed for in-flight refueling and the overland portion. Then it was back to supersonic speed over the Gulf of Mexico to Key West Naval Air Station.

  Fun stuff.

  As we rocketed across the Gulf of Mexico, Jackpot asked, “How did your brother get permission to give you a check out in an F/A-18F?”

  “This isn’t for public knowledge, but it was a reward I earned for landing a Boeing 727 on the deck of an aircraft carrier last fall.”

  “That was you? There must be more to the story if they let you fly a fighter.”

  “Oh yeah, that airliner held key enemy combatants and a treasure trove of intel. The Lawrence Lee’s captain will probably make admiral soon thanks to me, which is why he let me fly one of the carrier’s Super Hornets.”

  “Wow, that airliner landing must’ve been tight. I’d love to see the video,” Jackpot said.

  “It’s in the Navy archives. It was the scariest landing I’ve ever made,” I said.

  He laughed. “I guess I don’t have to sweat your landing in Key West.” He paused. “On another subject, are you dating anyone?”

  Sitting in front of him, I nodded. “My boyfriend is a captain in the UK’s Special Air Service.”

  “Good to know. I’m not about to piss off an SAS badass. Be sure and tell him I was real nice to you. Oh, and slow the hell down. We’re only eighty miles from Key West.”

  “Roger that—slowing the hell down now.” I pulled back the throttles. Before long, we were cleared to land.

  I landed the Super Hornet as though my twin brothers in the Navy were watching. They were two years older, and we’d always been competitive. I knew news of my fighter flight would get back to them. Matt, the fighter pilot, would hear about it first. Then he’d tell Mike, a tier-one SEAL. I made a smooth landing to keep up my good reputation with Matt’s carrier squadron.

  As I climbed down from the cockpit, I couldn’t stop smiling. Controlling the massive power and speed of a modern jet fighter had been an exhilarating adrenaline rush.

  And Jackpot had been “real nice to me.” When we stepped onto the tarmac, I hugged him. “Thanks for the fun flight. I’ll tell Admiral Jacobs you were a total pro.”

  He grinned. “Looks like the Seahawk is waiting for you. Keep the G-suit. You never know when you might get another flight in a fast mover.” He handed me my bag and saluted.


  I saluted Jackpot and trotted to the waiting helicopter. Dragon Master looked a little wobbly as his pilot escorted him to me. A crewman handed us helmets and life vests. We pulled them on and climbed aboard. The instant our seatbelts were fastened the Seahawk took off and zoomed low over the sea.

  We landed on Leviathan’s helipad about twenty minutes later. The crewman who’d given us the life vests and helmets took them back and ushered us off the helipad.

  I’d never met Max, but Jeff had shown me plenty of pictures. When I spotted a tall blond guy, I recognized him right away. He was almost an exact copy of his father.

  As he approached, his jaw dropped. “Sorry, Sam, it’s just that you really do look exactly like Solraya, the blond triplet,” he paused, “except your eye color is a little different.” He offered his hand. “Thanks for coming. I wouldn’t have whisked you away like that if it wasn’t a life or death crisis, and frankly, I’m out of options.”

  I squeezed his hand. “Good to finally meet you, Max, and this is Dragon Master.” I thumbed at the small man beside me.

  Dragon Master bowed. “An honor to meet you, Captain.”

  Max glanced at his watch. “I hate to cut this short, but my divers only have about twenty minutes of air left. They’re trapped inside a building that’s two thousand feet down, and there’s a giant squid down there that’ll kill them if they try to leave.”

  Stunned, I asked, “How big is it?”

  “About a hundred and sixty feet long,” Max said. “It’s already destroyed two foreign submarines and a Russian spy trawler, and it killed two Russian divers.”

  I glanced at Dragon Master. “Any suggestions?”

  “All sea creatures are yours to command, Golden Twin.” He bowed his head.

  “I remember the times the triplets telepathically commanded orcas to do their bidding, but what makes you think I can do that—especially with a sea monster that’s way bigger and a lot dumber than an orca?” I asked, my mind racing.

  “Golden Twin now Atlantean queen.” He bowed. “Sea monster guards your city. It will obey you.”

  “How could you possibly know that?”

  “Atlantean masters told me years ago.”

  I turned to Max. “Take me to Dive Ops.”

  We rushed through the ship to the area where they launched divers in Hardsuits. A suit was attached to the winch.

  I nudged Max. “What was the objective in that building?”

  “We’ve been ordered to retrieve all the vaults. The divers had already unhooked the chains securing them to the walls. Then we spotted the giant squid on sonar and ordered them to sever their cables and move to the rear of the building.”

  I bit my lip. “I’m going to test something. If it works, I’ll have your divers up here before their air runs out. Is there an open spot on the deck?”

  Max pointed. “The forward deck is clear.”

  “I need quiet with no interruptions, and don’t shoot the squid. We need it.” I closed my eyes and concentrated on contacting the monster telepathically.

  Forget there’s a ticking clock. Relax. Visualize the kraken and call out to it.

  God, am I really doing this?

  Focus!

  Max grabbed an interphone and gave the hold-fire order.

  Five minutes later, I heard yelling.

  Oh God, did it work?

  I opened my eyes. The water beside the ship churned, throwing up a fountain of spray as a huge tentacle burst through the surface, clutching a rectangular gold vault. The massive appendage gently deposited it on the deck and then slithered beneath the waves.

  “If I send the kraken to retrieve your divers, they’ll think it’s coming to kill them and fight it,” I said. “Can you contact them and explain it’s there to rescue them?”

  “We lost comms when they cut their cables.” Max frowned. “Their radios can’t receive our signal inside the stone building.”

  I sucked in my breath. I have to find a way to save the divers without anyone knowing the triplets transferred all their knowledge to me before they died.

  “Put me in a Hardsuit so I can go down there and tell them myself.” I unzipped my G-suit. “And give me two cables to tether the divers to me.”

  Can’t believe I’m doing this.

  “There’s no time to winch you down two thousand feet,” Max said.

  “Then disconnect the winch cable, and my new pet will take me down. How much time do we have left?” I shrugged off my G-suit and kicked off my shoes.

  Max glanced at his watch. “Eight minutes.” He motioned to his SEAL commander. “George, put her in the Hardsuit and disconnect the cable. Hurry!”

  “If that squid makes a mistake and squeezes you a little too hard at depth, you’ll end up a blob of Jell-O,” George said.

  My gut twisted into a knot.

  “Hey, if this was easy, anybody could do it.” I grinned, trying to hide my terror.

  “When you’re in the suit, you’ll have hand controls for the graspers, foot controls for the thrusters, and a voice-activated mike to talk to the divers via radio interphone once you’re inside the building. Questions?”

  I glanced at my watch. Six minutes. “Just get me out of this metal coffin as soon as I get back.” I turned to Max. “Uh, Max, promise me that if I pull this off, you won’t tell your superiors what I did. I’d like to have a life after this. They probably wouldn’t believe you anyway.” I stepped into the suit.

  “I’ll promise to keep your secret if you promise to come back alive,” Max said. “My dad would never forgive me if I got you killed.”

  “It’s a deal,” I said right before they locked the suit shut. I looked at them through my much-too-small viewing port and forced a smile.

  Five minutes left on the dive clock.

  Now I have to somehow forget about being claustrophobic and concentrate on communicating telepathically with a terrifying sea monster. Holy crap!

  I took another deep breath and tried to ignore a wave of fear-induced nausea as a giant tentacle snaked toward me and gently wrapped around my Hardsuit. Once it had me in its grasp, it raced downward to the ancient city. It moved so fast I saw nothing but giant suction cups and a blur of rushing water as my heart jackhammered my chest.

  My tentacle ride stopped in front of a white marble building shaped like an octagon. The small viewing port in my suit wasn’t big enough for me to see the rest of the monster somewhere behind or above me. Just as well—I’d probably have a heart attack. I gasped as the tentacle holding me cleared the door and snaked inside the building.

  The divers were on top of the rearmost vault. They had maybe four minutes of air.

  “Attention, Leviathan divers! I’m here to rescue you,” I said over my radio intercom. “This is not a hallucination—the kraken is helping me.”

  A man replied weakly, “Who are you and who sent you?”

  “I’m Samantha Starr. Captain Max Rowlin sent me. You’re almost out of air. The kraken will take us up to the ship really fast, so I’m going to attach these tethers to keep us together.” I clipped the cables to their suits. “Hold still while the tentacle gathers us.”

  The woman screamed, “Don’t let it get me!”

  I heard the man say, “Vicky, let go of that chain!” He tapped her. “Now!”

  Her grasper released the chain. “This is too scary,” she said, almost out of breath.

  “Hang in there. We’ll be topside soon,” I said as the tentacle withdrew us from the building.

  Two minutes before they’d run out of air.

  The trip up was as blurry as the trip down had been. We burst above the surface, and the tentacle curved over the rail, lowered us onto the deck, and paused.

  I unhooked the tether cables with my graspers, leaving the divers on the deck. Then I took another nauseating trip down to the Hall of Records.

  Might as well seize the opportunity and recover the vaults for Max. Then maybe I won’t have to get in this torture chamb
er again next month. A few more minutes of terror and I’ll be done. The worst is probably over—I hope.

  Once I was back inside the building, the kraken’s tentacle released me and began gathering vaults according to my commands. It pulled one through the door and handed it to another tentacle, then returned for another one. I sent the kraken to the surface with six gold vaults.

  That left four more and me. One last trip to the ship and we’d be done.

  I glanced at the entrance and saw two divers enter wearing odd-looking dive suits with Russian flags on their chests. Their suits had cables attached. I hadn’t seen any other surface ships, so I assumed they’d come from a submarine. One big enough to survive a kraken attack.

  Just in case they weren’t friendly, I hit my thrusters and zoomed behind a big statue of Poseidon in the center of the dark room. My suit had a closed oxygen system that wouldn’t expel air bubbles, but I didn’t know how to switch off my external light. Could be they wanted those gold vaults for Mother Russia and wouldn’t want me telling anyone they’d been here. That damn light on my suit was like a beacon for them to find me.

  A ballistic spear zipped past the statue, barely missing my right shoulder.

  Oh God, they’re coming for me! And my only weapon is topside making a delivery.

  The two divers could easily flank me. One spear into my Hardsuit and I’d be reduced to a gory soup.

  Nine

  Honolulu, Hawaii

  “She not here. Never checked into hotel,” the Chinese agent said into an encrypted satellite phone. “And no record of her going through U.S. Customs.”

  “She might still be in Hong Kong. We will widen search,” the agent in Hong Kong said. “Go to her airline’s headquarters in Palm Beach and find out where she is.”

  “I have a flight booked to Los Angeles connecting to Fort Lauderdale. I will call when I get to my hotel in Palm Beach.”