"There it is," Danielle said, as she pointed out the large building coming up on their right.
Carl eased their rental car into a space that was crowded with old ship parts and skeletons of boats of all kinds. Some were navy, whereas others were nondescript and nothing more than junk. They could hear the barely audible thump of heavy metal music coming from inside the building in which they had been searching.
"What an awful place for your navy to put a man. Did you say he was once a master chief in your SEAL unit?" she asked.
Carl walked up to a large steel door and slammed his fist against it several times, making a loud banging that they could hear echo inside. "Still is a master chief and the meanest son of a bitch I've ever met in my life," he said turning back toward Danielle. "He was a SEAL before it was glamorous to be one. He was in on the Son Tay raid in '70 before I was even born."
"That was where your Special Forces tried to free your prisoners of war?"
He was impressed with her knowledge. "That's right," he said, banging again on the steel door, but keeping his eyes on the woman.
"I did my thesis on colonialism and the French involvement in Southeast Asia, particularly Vietnam. You look surprised."
"I admit, I may have underestimated you."
"Score one for the enemy," she said, her own eyes locked on his.
Carl stepped back from the large metal door and looked around.
"Go away, this is government property, dickwad," said a voice from the other side of the door.
"That's Master Chief Jenks all right, not a good word to say to anyone," Carl said as he stepped back up to the door. "Watch that mouth, Chief. You're addressing a United States naval officer!"
"I don't give a flying fuck if it's John Paul Fucking Jones, get the hell out of here. This is my project and I let in who I want."
Danielle placed her hand over her mouth, hiding her smile.
"Told you, Father Flanagan he's not," Carl said jokingly, then turned back to the closed door. "All right then, Chief, how about there's a lady out here who needs to use the head; she's been on a plane for three and a half hours."
"Lady? She good lookin'?"
Carl turned to look at Danielle. "Gorgeous," he said as he quickly turned away from her.
There was silence on the other end for about two minutes, and then they heard the hum of an electric motor and the music inside came blaring out of the opening door. "Welcome to the Jungle," a song by Guns N' Roses, drove Carl back a step.
The music was lowered. After their eyes adjusted they saw they were looking at a giant tarp that had been hung from the old rafters. It covered most of the interior of the building from view. A man in dirty overalls approached them, down a set of stairs. He was wiping his greasy hands on a red rag.
"Who the hell are you and where's this woman?" At that moment the man caught sight of Danielle. "Fuck me three ways from Sunday, you were right, she's a looker."
"The navy never managed to tame that filthy mouth of yours, huh?" Carl said.
The master chief looked him over, and then the light of recognition lit the older man's eyes like a lantern.
"I'll be dipped in whale shit. Toad?"
Carl turned red at the mention of his nickname, but grabbed the master chief just the same and hugged him.
"Commander Toad to you, you slimy bastard," he said.
The two men hugged and patted each other on the back as Danielle watched. Then Jenks pushed the younger man away suddenly.
"Hey, you didn't turn gay on me, did you, boy? Could have sworn you grabbed my ass there," he said as he smiled at Carl, then at Danielle.
"No I didn't, and that's not very PC of you. Chief Jenks." He gestured toward his companion. "This is Danielle, she's—" he hesitated for a split second, "she's a friend of mine."
Jenks looked her over, his eyes lingering on her chest a moment longer than necessary. He continued smiling but didn't offer his hand.
"As I said, she's a looker all right," he stated flatly. He looked accusingly at Carl. "She's also a spook, I can smell it. You should watch the company you hang out with, Toad," he said as he slapped Carl on the arm and walked away.
Carl frowned at Danielle. "He has a nose for people," he whispered, and then called toward Jenks, who had gone back to wiping his hands on a greasy rag. "She's not a spy, Chief, she's in the same line of work as me."
Jenks stopped but didn't turn. "And that is?" "Let's just say I'm still in the navy and we're the good guys and leave it at that, okay?"
Jenks finally met his eyes again. "Okay, Toad, you're a good guy. Now what the fuck do you want?"
"We came to see your project," Carl said.
"You're not getting it, so go away. Hell, it's not even finished and probably won't be before the navy shit cans the project and me."
"I may be able to help you there, Jenksy, now; just let us see the damned thing."
Jenks put his left hand on his hip, then removed his dirty white saucer cap and ran a still-filthy right hand through his crew-cut gray hair. Then he reached into his overall pocket and withdrew a stub of a cigar. Carl smiled, as these were signs that told him the man was relaxing.
"All right, but you're not getting her. I've still got major logistical concerns here; she won't be ready for river trials for…hell, maybe never." Jenks started for the giant tarpaulin covering three-quarters of the building. "Unless you have a check on you for about five and half million bucks."
Carl began to follow Jenks. Danielle came up close to his side. "How cute, your nickname was Toad?"
"Yeah, and I don't want to talk about it," he said as he stepped around a large empty crate. It was stenciled with a bright red logo that had several lines painted on it, depicting a bright light. It read laser device, handle with care.
"Come on, why did they give you that name?" she asked, smiling and ignoring Carl's curious glance at the empty crate.
"Because the stupid bastard used to jump six feet in the air every time ordnance went off around him in training, that's why," Jenks said as he started to pull the tarp aside. Then he stopped and looked at Danielle. "But he was still the best damned SEAL I ever trained and, as I hear it from people, he's the best there ever was, so as you can see, he worked out that little problem with loud noises he had when he was a kid." He pulled hard on the tarp. "Ain't that right, Toad?"
Carl smiled embarrassedly as the tarp was pulled away. His smile faded as he looked up and saw for the first time the master chief's project.
"Goodness," was all Danielle could utter.
"Damn," Carl mumbled as they stepped into the mad scientist's naval workshop of wonders to take in a gleaming jewel hidden away in a city that had come violently close to being deleted from the American landscape.
The vessel looked like something taken straight out of a science-fiction movie. The nose was enclosed and comprised mostly of glass except for the framing. It was shaped like a boat in the bow but that was where the resemblance ended. Except for the tri-hull shape of its body, the vessel looked more like a sleek submarine. It was over 130 feet long and was sectioned in twenty-two-foot compartments. Some areas were open on the top at the midway point, as an upper deck with seating around the gunwales. It had a high observation tower amidships that rose forty feet into the air, which included the ship's radar and antenna domes above the crow's nest. The vessel was gleaming white. Toward the stern, USS Teacher was in blue cursive and punctuated by a large illustration of a woman's eye, with the brow perfectly and beautifully arched over it. Large portholes, six-foot rectangles of thick glass, ran along the length of each section, both above the waterline and below. At the bottom of each section were four small protrusions that looked like the water jets of a speedboat.
Carl climbed a scaffold so he could see inside the glass nose and make out some of the command bridge. There were large chairs for the command pilot and a seat for a copilot. The interior of the bridge was dark save for a few glowing instrument lights.
"She's beautiful, Jenks," Carl said, admiring the composite graphite hull.
The master chief smiled and then looked hard at Danielle.
"She is that," she said quickly as Jenks grunted satisfaction with her late response. "But why did you name her Teacher?" she asked.
"I don't know, because she's built to teach, I guess… plus it was an old Jethro Tull song I liked, you know, I thought it was cool," he said, lowering his head, waiting for them to laugh at his mention of the old rock group.
"She's a river craft? She's long and looks too big to navigate tight waterways," Carl said as he came down from the metal scaffolding.
Jenks tapped the composite hull. "Let me tell you something, Toad, this baby only draws six and a half feet of water. She rides high but is capable of taking on ten thousand pounds of water ballast. She has a whole section in the middle there that lowers deeper into the water by telescoping her hull by fifteen feet for observation purposes. She has an enclosed two-man submersible and an observation diving bell. In her stern housing, she has fifteen different unmanned, radio-controlled probes for underwater research. She has cabin space for fifty-one people. Her galley is better equipped than any vessel in the navy. She's totally sealed and air-conditioned. Her electronics suite is state-of-the-art, and she has three labs on board and room for one more if we clear out some storage lockers. She has a glass-enclosed live well that holds five thousand gallons of water and is fully oxygenated. The sections can be separately maneuvered by independent water jets to match the tight turns involved in river operation, thanks to the expanding rubber gaskets between the sections; and the water jets are controlled by computers so accurate she can bring her bow all the way around and kiss her own ass. She can be dismantled and flown anywhere in the world and be in the water ready for action within twenty-four hours. Each section is light enough to be carried by a Blackhawk or Seahawk helicopter."
"This is the most amazing thing I've ever seen," Carl exclaimed.
"Took ten years of my life, and now the navy's trying to shortchange me," grumbled Jenks as he ran his hand lovingly along Teacher's side.
"This is an amazing science platform," Danielle said.
"Yeah, but I doubt if she ever has a chance to see the water," the master chief said glumly.
Carl walked straight up to him and smiled. "Chief, we need to borrow her and you, too."
"Look, Toad, she needs about another two tons of electronics. Hell, she needs her whole navigation and mapping system. So unless you can write me a check for about five and a half million dollars and get the Department of the Navy and the president of the United States to give her to you, you're up shit's creek without a paddle, boy. Besides, I'm done kowtowing to those bastards anyway. You can't have her."
"Well, Chief, I only go up the creeks I'm told to sail, so however much and what it is that you need, I'll have it here within the day, and the people you need to assist you in installing it," Carl said as he brought out his cell phone.
The master chief looked at Carl and then at Danielle, who smiled and nodded her head, letting him know Carl was serious.
"Put the damned phone away," he said. "I'm not the whore you seem to think I am, Toad. The answer is no!"
Carl stopped dialing. "Where we're going, we'll need one hell of a boat. This is your chance to get this baby into action and prove what she can do. They stuck you down here to keep you out of the way, Chief, so that means they don't think you have anything to offer the navy anymore."
"You think you can play me like a fiddle? Well, my boy, you have another fuckin' think comin'. I would just as soon burn this thing as to—"
"There are college kids down there, Chief. They haven't been heard from in weeks. We need you. And we need Teacher." Danielle held Jenks's glare with her own softer version. Then his features relaxed and his eyes traveled down to her chest once again, like a magnet drawn to steel.
"Kids, huh?"
"A few of them the same age as your granddaughter."
Jenks addressed Carl. "Low blow, Toad." He angrily tossed the stub of cigar away. "Well, you gonna make that call or not? I need a lot of shit to complete this tub!"
Carl made the call.
Danielle looked Teacher over again and hoped the vessel was everything the master chief said she was. They would need every possible advantage for where they were going.
As for Carl, he was more practical. He just hoped the gleaming white experimental boat would float.
EVENT GROUP COMPLEX NUMBER ONE ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA
Niles stood looking at the old computer center used by the Event Group. The complex contained custom-made filing cabinets and shelving that stored a million or more accounts of historical, mythic, or legendary events — everything from the location of Atlantis to the incredible stories of yetis, the mythical beast of the Himalayas, to the suspected ancient power sources discovered by Egypt three thousand years before.
"Some computer center you have here, Mr. Director. A little bit behind the times, aren't we?" Ryan asked as he ran a hand along one of the old filing cabinets.
"The information covered in these files, Lieutenant Ryan, is the whole of our ancient and modern world. Facts and stories, even rumors are stored here. The combined knowledge of the ancient world started this facility."
"And you expect us to find something here, sir?" Ryan said as he brushed some dust off his hands.
"Actually, we have the Librarian. One of the first Crays ever installed in a government facility," Niles said as he made his way over to a small cubicle. "At first it was one of those card-wielding Univac machines that we updated from time to time, but we eventually upgraded in 1980 to a system that was called, naturally enough, the Librarian."
Niles used a key to open the door to the cubicle that sat in the middle of the gymnasium-size storage area. The room was dark and dank and had a musty smell that made Ryan wiggle his nose.
"Smells like the old Librarian may have kicked the proverbial bucket, sir."
Niles ignored the comment and flipped on the overhead lights, illuminating the small computer station whose speakers were mounted on both sides of the large desk. There was only one chair and Niles sat in it. Ryan looked around and decided to just cross his arms and wait.
"The auditory system was installed two years ago by Pete and me to make research easier for historians of the group. I'm afraid this voice isn't as feminine as what we have with Europa, but it's kind of quaint."
Ryan watched as Niles adjusted a microphone in front of him and pushed a small button, activating a small but adequate monitor pop-up on the right side of the desk.
"Let's just hope what Professor Zachary erased on Europa back home is still in here."
"Hello, Librarian," Niles said into the microphone.
The monitor came to life as the speakers did.
Good afternoon, Dr. Compton, or would you like to be addressed as Director Compton now? the male voice asked, referring to his promotion since the last time they'd spoken.
To Ryan it sounded disturbingly like the voice of HAL from 2001: A Space Odyssey, the same computer that went nuts and killed everyone.
"Dr. Compton is fine. Librarian, can you access my last log-on to your sister system, Europa in Nevada?"
Yes, Dr. Compton, I can; I enjoy interfacing with Europa. "I imagine you do," Ryan mumbled.
THE PENTAGON
Rear Admiral Elliott Pierce was studying an intelligence brief, on the continuing withdrawal of Iranian armor divisions from the border with Iraq, when a knock sounded at his door. He summoned the person in and was given a note.
"This just came in from Signal, sir."
Pierce took the note from the young signalman and excused him. As he read the communication, his face fell. He immediately picked up the phone and called a number at the White House. The president's national security advisor picked up on the first ring.
"Ambrose," the voice said.
"We have a problem," Pierce said softly, for no other reason th
an he felt deceitful.
"What?"
"The Red Flag we placed on the National Archives file that Professor Zachary used, which is cross-referenced with our database, has just been activated."
"Jesus Christ, by whom?"
"It says terminal 5656, but there is no terminal 5656, according to our intelligence records."
"So, maybe it's a glitch," the national security advisor said in an annoyed tone.
"I don't believe that much in coincidence, do you?" Pierce asked smugly.
"Well, what can you do?"
"My signals team was able to track the terminal's location; you won't believe it."
"We don't have time for this. Where is it?"
"Arlington National Cemetery — the mansion's maintenance facility, of all places."
"Goddammit, what in the hell is going on here?"
"I don't know, but we'd better get someone over there or this could get rather sticky."
"Do you have access to outside nonmilitary people for this?"
"Yes, and they're right down the road. They can be onsite in twenty minutes with equipment that could trace this phantom computer terminal. Are you going to say anything to him about this?"
"Hell no, just take care of it, he's got enough on his mind already. He has a meeting with the president about an appearance at a fund-raiser for his campaign tonight. Just eliminate this problem any way you can, understand?"
"This is getting to be too costly. We're going to hang for this if we're caught."
"Then the object here is — what? Not to get caught. And don't inform the others about this development, they're getting cold feet enough as it is. Eliminate whoever is snooping into that file."
The director of Naval Intelligence hung up the phone and removed a small black book from his desk drawer. Whoever had accessed that unlisted computer terminal wouldn't live long enough to benefit from it.
EVENT GROUP COMPLEX NUMBER ONE ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA
"Okay, Librarian, is your interface complete with Nellis complex?"
Yes, Dr. Compton, Europa is online.
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