Rogue Wave

by Christopher Cartwright

  At least until he’d learned who his enemies really were and was in a position to deal with them. So, instead, he had bided his time, living off emergency rations, until the currents had taken him close enough to reach the shore.

  Afraid that the swift and powerful gulfstream was going to tear him further away from the coast of Florida, Luke had wasted the submersible’s remaining energy supply. Now he was close. Two days ago, with a strong easterly wind, he was certain he was going to reach land. Then, at the change of tide, he was sucked further out again.

  But now he was within reach of landfall.

  By midday he was close enough to swim to the shore. He picked up his waterproof duffel bag, which housed his satellite smartphone and a clean set of clothes. He manually opened the water intake valves and the sub slowly returned to its neutrally buoyant position once more. It took nearly twenty minutes before the hatch was swamped by seawater and then the entire vessel disappeared under the water and sank like a stone. He couldn’t afford the risk of someone else finding the submarine washed up on the shore. It wouldn’t take long for them to make the natural connection – he was still alive.

  Clutching his duffel bag in front of him with both hands, like a flotation device, Luke swam towards the shore. Ordinarily, it would have been an easy swim, but the days of confinement within the miniature submersible had made his otherwise strong muscles of his arms and legs atrophy. He’d misjudged the strength of the outgoing current just before the breakers.

  Luke forced himself to breathe and swim across the rip. Rips are usually formed by a deeper channel carved in the sand by the outward flow of water returning from the beach. Most people drown trying to fight directly against it, whereas the best way to handle a rip is a relatively easy swim across the current.

  He wasn’t afraid of drowning. Luke’s concern was more that in his weakened state, he might not have the stamina to ever reach the shore.

  Holding onto his flotation device, he kicked as hard and as much as possible. Within two to three minutes he’d crossed the rip and settled on the calm side of the current. With his head just above water, the sandy beach now appeared very distant.

  Gritting his teeth, he began the long, slow, swim to shore. Timing himself, he kicked for ten minutes and then rested for one minute. By the end of the third rotation, his bag caught a breaking wave. Gripping its handle as he was dragged under, Luke rode the mesh of whitewash all the way to the beach.

  He then looked up at the sky. Wondered if THEY were watching him. Luke forced himself to walk up on to the dry sand. Where he promptly collapsed with relief.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Luke unzipped the waterproof bag.

  He removed the cash and fresh clothes stored inside. Took out a single brass sextant – sentimental antiquity more than real value. He burned his ID, credit cards and smartphone – the only three records of his survival. And then replaced the items of value in the duffle bag. He’d already disconnected his satellite phone. THEY would be watching it. If they were that powerful, they would reach his phone lines.

  Luke sighed.

  He had a long way to go. He walked to the end of the beach, and flagged down the first car he saw. It was a BMW. The driver ignored him and kept going. Twenty minutes later another car approached. A green Volkswagen Kombi Van. Luke raised his thumb and the driver pulled over to stop next to him.

  “You want a lift?” The driver asked. He looked like he’d just been for a surf. He wore board shorts and no shirt. His long blond hair hung over his shoulders. Next to him, a sporty blonde girl still wore her bikini.

  “I’d love one.” Luke smiled his most ingratiating smile.

  “Jump in.”

  Luke opened the passenger side door. The girl shuffled into the middle seat so that he had room to sit. The entire back of the van had been converted into some sort of sleeping arrangement.

  “I’m Veronika and this Kristof,” the blonde girl said in a thick German accent.

  Luke offered his hand. “My name’s Ryan. Thanks for helping me out.”

  “Where are you headed?” Kristof asked.

  “Anywhere in town would be much appreciated. I’m heading over to the West Coast tomorrow by bus.”

  Kristof admired his small waterproof duffle bag. “You travel light. Do you need to pick up anything else?”

  “No. This is it.” Luke smiled at the young German couple. He had an honest smile and a deeply formed cleft chin that gave him the appearance of a model or movie star. The sort of person people tended to trust for no apparent reason.

  “This is your lucky day. We’re about to head west. We’ve got to meet up with some friends in California in a few days’ time, so this is going to be a pretty quick trip. We’re happy to take you, if you want to come along for the ride?”

  Luke smiled again. It was his lucky day. “That would be great.”

  Chapter Twenty Three

  They drove for two days along Interstate 10. Driving hard, the three of them took it in turns to drive. Veronika played the guitar and the three of them sang old classic rock songs and smoked weed.

  By the time they reached California the three had become good friends. Albeit based primarily on illegal drug use and old rock and roll. They’d travelled some three thousand miles together in a small van. It brings people together.

  Kristof looked at him as they entered the southern tip of California. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve got business in Los Angeles,” Luke said.

  “Really, you don’t look like someone who’s traveling for business?”

  Luke stared at the young man. Despite his sixties flashback appearance, he was an intelligent man. A computer engineer from Berlin. There’s only so much you can fool an engineer. Kristof offered him another lit roll. Luke took it and breathed deep. “I made a mistake.”

  “What sort of mistake?”

  “We were offered a lot of money for something we’d created. My business partner thought it was a good deal and accepted it, while I refused. Apparently the price of refusal was death. They tried to kill me and came very close to doing just that.”

  “Wow, someone’s hunting you?” Kristof turned from the steering wheel to look at him.

  “Watch the road. No one’s looking for me. They already think I’m dead.”

  “Sweet. So what do you need in California?”

  Luke took a deep suck on the hippy’s weed to relax himself before he spoke. “I need to pick up something.”

  “Okay, cool. We’ll help you out. Where is it?”

  “It’s in a place called Death Valley.”

  Chapter Twenty Four

  They drove the small Kombi van into the entrance to Death Valley National Park. It was the hottest and driest place in North America. Luke climbed out. “Thanks for the lift,” he said politely, closing the door to the car.

  Kristof stared at him like he had a death wish. “Are you going to be all right out here? You’re a long way from anything.”

  Luke nodded his head. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be back by tomorrow morning.”

  “We’ll be here.”

  “Thanks.”

  With his duffle bag thrown over his shoulders like a backpack, a big Texan hat and little else, Luke walked into the desert. He started climbing the sand dunes that looked like the never ending swell of the oceans, and continued all the way to the horizon.

  He walked for hours upon hours.

  At the top of a ridge, he took the sextant out of his duffle bag and took a reading of the sun. The sextant was broken, out by five degrees. The thing had always been that way as far as he could tell.

  It had only served to make his treasure cache more secure.

  Anyone could find “X marks the spot” using a GPS. But very few people could work it out based on the coordinates of an old sextant, especially one that was out by five degrees.

  He took the reading. Grinned. He was getting close. He would still reach it by nightfall. He climbed an
other dune, followed by another and then stopped. Luke took a final reading – and then commenced digging.

  Ravenously, he dug into the sand, as though he might just find water. He dug deeper and deeper, until, his shovel struck metal.

  He stopped.

  Smiling, he carefully removed the sand on top and then pried the box free from the earth. Luke struck the rusted lock with the edge of his shovel. Sparks flew for an instant, and the lock broke free. He quickly opened it.

  Inside, a cool million in cash was packaged in neat bundles of hundred dollar notes. Next to it a magnum 44 with several rounds of cartridges. Last, and most precious amongst his hoard of treasure, in a small bundle of notes was his new identity. A passport and driver’s license. Years ago, he’d paid a man who worked for the DMV to scour their records for a man who matched his facial appearance, someone who was currently single and desperate.

  Ryan Thomas had met those criteria.

  He also desperately needed money to pay medical bills for a rare type of cancer that would most likely bankrupt him before it killed him. Luke had met with the unfortunate man, and offered to pay for all his medical expenses, on the proviso that once he died, Luke could have his identity.

  Luke examined the passport photo. It was uncanny their resemblance. They could have easily been twins. He smiled. Luke Eldridge was now a dead man.

  He was now Ryan Thomas. A dead man with a secret. One that a federation of powerful people around the world, including politicians, had killed to maintain. Luke had only one name on the list of people responsible for the attack on him. But it wasn’t hard to imagine who had the most to lose with his discovery. He had one of the brightest minds on earth, cash, and a new life. Somehow, he would find out exactly who was behind the offer.

  He grinned.

  And then THEY were going to discover that some dead men do more than talk.

  Chapter Twenty Five

  The constant hum of the Maria Helena’s powerful twin diesel engines reduced to an idle. Sam looked at the spectacular azure water surrounding the Bimini Islands. Like a jewel in the Gulf Stream, few islands held the imagination of so many for so long. Legends – the Bimini Islands manufactured them like a magic factory. All of the great ones were tied up in there somehow. The Fountain of Youth, the Ruins of Atlantis, Megalithic Stones. It was all there.

  And it had all been disproved.

  Sam stared at the sparkling waters. The fountain of youth turned out to have high levels of lithium providing people with a natural mood elevator. As for Atlantis, Sam had already been to the Temple of Poseidon, and this wasn’t it. Extensive geological studies and mineral analysis of the Megalithic Stones showed them to be natural, albeit unique, limestone formations.

  But Sam knew a strange fact about legends. Sometimes they’re based on an ounce of truth. Often a minor detail, or a hidden truth. The Antiqui Nautae were that truth. He didn’t even know why he believed it so much, but he was going to prove it.

  Sam walked down to the Maria Helena’s moon pool. He quickly attached his single dive tank to his buoyancy control device – BCD for short. Turned the regulator open and rotated it back half a click to stop the seal from catching. He picked up the dive computer and confirmed 210 BAR of air pressure. It would be a shallow dive. Less than fifteen feet. No need for twin tanks.

  Tom finished his own check. “For once you’ve taken me to a pristine place to have a recreational dive. Are you ready?”

  Sam slipped his arms through the BCD and locked the Velcro straps. “Pick us up here in around an hour, Matthew.”

  “Got it. We’ll keep an eye out on the surface for you. I’ll also get that survey of the water in the area you wanted.”

  “Thanks.”

  Elise handed him a sealed dive bag. “Make certain you place one on the top of each stone at both ends of the Bimini Road if you want an accurate reading of the water speed and weight. The weight is more useful to us than speed. As you know, rogue waves are rarely any faster than normal waves. ” But large waves mean greater mass. If you have a hundred-foot wave forming here, these depth gauges are going to suddenly read a massive increase.”

  Sam nodded his head. Opening the bag, he examined the small cylindrical patches she had given him. “Sure.” He then squeezed his feet into fins and looked up at Tom. “You ready to find some answers?”

  Tom smiled. “I’m just happy to go for a nice dive on a day like today. But if we find what you’re looking for that will be good too.”

  Sam fitted his dive mask and then placed the air regulator into his mouth. He then leaned backwards, falling off the side of the moon pool and into the azure sea below.

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Sam marked his position using GPS and confirmed they were at the most southwestern stone in the Bimini Road. He then checked his watch. The time was 0920. They would be done before 1030. Catching Tom’s attention, he pointed his thumb down – signaling he was going to commence the dive.

  It was a shallow dive in warm water. Sam simply wore board shorts and his diving equipment. He was happy. It made for a very free dive. More like skin diving. As soon as he looked downward he imagined the large rectangular limestone blocks as being the start of the yellow brick road in Oz. He wondered if this road would lead to an even stranger place once its hidden answers were revealed. A minute later, he was kneeling on top of the most southwestern rectangular block.

  He placed the first of the data dots in the middle of the stone. A single red light flashed intermittently, showing that the information being gathered was transmitting. Veyron was already in the process of laying a new relay buoy to receive and transmit the collective information via satellites.

  There were seven similar stones that formed the southwestern end of the Bimini Road. It didn’t take long to place all the data dots and confirm they had been set correctly. Sam then ascended to a depth of five feet and met up with Tom.

  In front of his friend rested a neutrally buoyant machine shaped round like a ball on one side, with a computer monitor on the other. Tom casually held onto a side handle with his left hand studying the screen.

  The device was called a Kongsberg EM3003D Multibeam Echosounder. It was a portable shallow water, multibeam system with 508 beams providing very high resolution surveying. Multibeam echo sounders emit a fan of sound beams to the seafloor to scan a wide swath of the seabed in great detail. Compared with conventional echo sounders – which direct a single beam of sound to the seabed directly below a ship, multibeams show more detail and greatly reduce survey time.

  By surveying the area at a depth of five feet Sam hoped to develop an accurate 3D analysis of the Bimini Road without the surface swell interrupting the process. Once the area was surveyed, his computer whiz, Elise, was going to run it through an ocean hydrology computer program and determine what sort of water movement over the structures of the Bimini Road, could cause a rogue wave.

  Tom pressed his thumb to his finger to form the signal for “okay.”

  Sam nodded his head in reply and then gestured that he was ready to start the survey process. Tom flicked a switch and silent waves swept over the monitor screen. The two of them began their half mile journey along the unique stone formation in a northeastern direction. The Bimini Road was approximately 300 feet wide and 1600 feet long.

  The pristine waters allowed the area to be easily surveyed during the first swim through. At the northeastern side of the strange stone formations Sam dived to fifteen feet and laid out another series of data dots on each of the limestone rocks. After confirming that he had covered each block on the northeastern side, he returned to the surface where Tom was already waiting.

  Tom took the regulator out of his mouth and breathed the warm air from the surface. “I don’t know if you found any of the answers you were looking for Sam, but I must thank you for finding a reason for us to come diving here again on the company’s dime.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  In the distance the Maria Helena
turned to move towards them. Tom grinned. “Here comes our ride.”

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  A couple minutes later their ship came to a stop right next to them. Sam handed his fins to Matthew and began climbing the aft boarding ladder. “Did you find anything of interest for me in your survey of the outer harbor?”

  Matthew handed the fins back as Sam reached the deck. “No. There wasn’t one single shipwreck or any other evidence of destroyed vessels from previous rogue waves.”

  “Of course not. Why would there be?”

  “I thought you told me this morning to search the area. Didn’t you want to find other shipwrecks so that you could prove your theory?”

  Sam dumped his dive gear and began drying himself with a towel. “No, I already know where the rogue wave reaches its zenith. It’s at that point we will find a graveyard of shipwrecks.”

  Matthew looked surprised. “Where?”

  “Here,” Sam said pulling out the Admiralty charts. “Where all four vessels have recently been struck. I thought that was obvious.”

  “So then what were you looking for here?”

  Sam looked along the several simple images from the sonar report and then pointed to what he was after. “One upturned rowboat and a weather buoy.”

  Matthew looked as though his boss might have truly gone mad this time. “You were after the upturned rowboat?”

  “Well. No, technically, I was more interested in the weather buoy. It’s not one of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration’s. And that means it’s one of theirs.”

  “One of who’s exactly?” Matthew persisted.

  “I’m not sure, but if we’re accepting at face value that someone’s been artificially creating these monster waves, then it makes sense that they would need a means of communicating exactly when a rogue wave passed through this section.”