Category Five

by Philip Donlay

  Donovan settled into a wooden chair and handed a cigar to William. He saw that his friend had taken off his jacket. He was seated in his vest and tie, as casual as he ever got.

  “Here you are.” William traded Donovan a snifter for a cigar.

  “Thank you.” Donovan swirled the dark amber liquid in the glass, then breathed in the heady aroma of the Cuban tobacco.

  “I had a thought.” William unfolded a small penknife and began to carefully cut the end from the cigar. “It might be a good idea if you could persuade Ms. Walker not to reveal the existence of this place. If you’re careful, you might be able to preserve it as your refuge. I hate to think of this serenity spoiled by those who would try to gain access.”

  “I’d already thought about that.” Donovan took the knife from William. “I’m not sure I’m going to stay in the area. It might be time to leave.”

  “Europe, Africa, Australia? Like you did once before.” William blew out a slender plume of smoke. “You always end up back in Virginia. Why leave?”

  “I know,” Donovan agreed, but he knew it wasn’t that simple. His thoughts zeroed in on Lauren, the image of her with Erin.

  “I’d like to drink to the fervent hope that I never again witness the expression that’s on your face right now.” William tipped his glass in Donovan’s direction.

  “I’m sorry.” Donovan halfheartedly returned the toast. “I feel so unsettled. It’s like I have all this energy, yet I can’t do a damn thing. Events are happening all around me and all I can do is stand and watch. It’s what I tried so hard to escape after Meredith was killed. I feel like a deer caught in the headlights, and there are cars coming in both directions.”

  “I know.” William took a sip of his cognac. “At the risk of sounding maudlin, I would like to say that you were right about Lauren. I was wrong. I’ve been trying to nudge you back in her direction for months. I’m sorry.”

  The wind freshened in Donovan’s face, the dry leaves in the oak tree above them rustling in the breeze. It was a welcome sensation, and signaled the first impulse from Helena. By this time tomorrow, it would be pouring rain.

  “What do you say we take a walk down by the lake?” William suggested. “I always enjoy the smell of the water. If I sit here, this cognac will go straight to my head.”

  Donovan stood and waited while William slipped on his coat and buttoned the front. Cigars and drinks in hand, they took their time walking side by side down the winding path that led to the lake. The sun was setting and the air felt heavy from the weight of the clouds. As they stood at the edge of the water, Donovan couldn’t help but think of his childhood. His father had been away a great deal of the time, running Huntington Oil. He and his mother divided their time among several of the family’s homes. The coasts of Maine, Florida, and California were different stops as the seasons changed. There had been tutors, nannies, private airplanes, and limousines—all the accouterments that vast wealth provided. But each summer he always looked forward to their time spent here. His mother’s fervent intent was to have a small part of his childhood resemble hers. He’d skinny dip in the lake and spend hours in the woods catching turtles and snakes. One of the groundskeepers had taught him to fish and built him the tire swing. They represented his most treasured moments as a child. Donovan felt comforted by the memories. They somehow served as a measurement with which to help him gain perspective. He wondered if this had been William’s intention in taking this walk. His friend’s shrewdness was almost uncanny at times. Donovan wondered if their long silence was in deference to the expected mood this place would invoke. Donovan finished the last of his cognac. His cigar had long gone out.

  “Thank you William,” Donovan said at last. “It’s getting late. I think we should head back. Tomorrow is going to be a difficult day.”

  “You’ll handle it well,” William said reverently as he nodded. “You always do.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The morning sky was filled with slate gray clouds. Donovan, as he always did, studied them as he made the drive to work. For a large portion of the night, he had been unable to sleep. The few fitful hours he did manage were filled with images of both Lauren and Meredith. Over the years, Meredith had grown larger in death than she’d ever been in life. A martyr for environmentalists, documentaries had been made about her remarkable life and untimely death. In each perspective, he’d been portrayed as the self-serving, uncaring billionaire who had refused to pay the ransom. Public opinion of him had probably changed very little in the last eighteen years. He tried to imagine what he would do when he was thrust back into the public eye once again—to the life he’d tried so hard to escape.

  In the wee hours, unable to sleep, he’d switched on the television and followed Helena’s progress. The storm was still situated far out to sea, but according to the local news stations, her effects were already being felt up and down the coast. Hurricane warnings had been posted. All along the east coast, people were boarding up their homes; cars were jammed on littl-eused evacuation routes. There was chaos as people fled. Gas stations were sold out, supermarkets and hardware shelves stripped bare of essential items. Violence had erupted, and looting had already begun. Donovan knew from experience that the panicked atmosphere would only grow worse as Helena charged in from the open ocean.

  He had mixed emotions about today’s flight. On the one hand, he couldn’t wait to see a hurricane with the size and fury of Helena. Yet he knew he’d be flying with Lauren in the back of the Gulfstream. He sighed. At least the lines had been drawn. She’d used her position to damage and discredit Eco-Watch. In his mind it was easily the worst transgression she could have orchestrated. He’d debated about whether or not to say something to her, but each time he imagined the scenario he found himself growing angry. It was still beyond his comprehension that she could have wounded him in such a way. He’d finally decided the best plan was to ignore her. He wanted to take the flight and the only way to get through the day would be to focus on his job, his life with Eco-Watch. For all he knew it could very well be his last mission as Donovan Nash.

  He eased the Range Rover into his reserved parking place and shut off the engine. He saw Michael’s car, as well as those of the rest of the morning staff. With the weight of the world pressing down on him, Donovan grabbed his flight bag and headed to the front door. He pushed open the glass doors that led into the lobby. He went to the small kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee, then walked down to the doors that led to the hangar. Inside the well-lit space, he could see both the da Vinci and the Galileo. He spotted Michael and Lauren talking near the nose of the Galileo. She looked relaxed, wearing khaki pants, sneakers and a dark green tee shirt. Her hair was tied back into a small ponytail. She held a clipboard, her eyes sparkling as she smiled and put her hand on Michael’s shoulder.

  “Hey, skipper, good morning.”

  Donovan turned and found Randy Kordek walking toward him. His boyish features and crew cut made him look like he was no more than twenty years old. But in reality, Randy was thirty, a highly experienced pilot with almost three thousand hours in the Gulfstream. Randy was the third crew member for this morning’s flight. Because of the range and endurance of the Gulfstream, they sometimes flew with a third, fully qualified pilot. It gave all of them a break on some of the eight-to-ten-hour missions.

  “Hello Randy,” Donovan replied. “Did we get the mission profile from the science team yet?”

  “Yeah. I think Dr. McKenna gave it to Michael. You want me to go find out?”

  Donovan checked his watch. “I’d appreciate it. Can you bring it up to my office? I have some other things I need to do before they pull the airplane out.”

  “Sure thing.” Randy paused. “You ever seen a hurricane like this one? I heard even NOAA suspended their flights into the storm after one of their planes sustained some damage.”

  “I heard that too.” Donovan knew that the NOAA flights were usually into the heart of the storm, at altitudes of less
than fifteen thousand feet. He couldn’t begin to imagine the fury of the storm down low.

  “It’s the biggest storm I’ve seen.” Donovan moved aside so Randy could slip past into the hangar. “I’ll be upstairs getting the weather. Bring me the route so I can file a flight plan.”

  “Will do.”

  Donovan retreated to his office. He tossed his bag onto the couch and settled behind his desk. With the touch of a button, his computer sprang to life and he began to access the aviation weather. He sipped his coffee as he studied the latest satellite image of Helena. She was almost 250 miles across, but he could easily spot their destination. The eye was a small dark circle positioned in the center of the stark white clouds. He clicked on another page and committed the high altitude wind patterns to memory. He also retrieved the latest surface observations from Dulles, Washington National, and Baltimore airports. He expanded his search and printed out the forecasts. His last jump was to the Doppler radar composite. Only fifty miles off the coast, the first yellow and green images of the coming thunderstorms could be seen. They were scattered enough at this point not to give rise to much concern. But if this mission lasted more than six hours, the heavier bands behind might become an issue. Donovan shrugged. If they had to, they could fly south to get out of Helena’s reach. He made a mental note to fill the Gulfstream with every last drop of fuel she’d carry. He was waiting for the last page of the weather to be spit from the printer when he heard a small knock at the door. He turned, expecting to find Randy with the profile. Instead, Lauren was standing there, an expectant look on her face.

  “May I come in?”

  Donovan nodded.

  “Randy said you wanted the mission profile.” Lauren walked toward him and pulled a sheet of paper from her clipboard. “It’s pretty straightforward.”

  Donovan took the paper and tried to focus on the crisscrossing flight path. It was simple. They’d be flying a standard bracketing maneuver. It would give them the most accurate sampling of the hurricane’s steering winds.

  “Are you okay?” Lauren knew it shouldn’t take him more than five seconds to understand the data, yet he seemed to be giving it his undivided attention.

  “I’m fine,” Donovan said without looking up. Under the desk, his legs were wire taut. Out of his peripheral vision he could see her hip slide slightly to one side as she shifted her weight. He wished she would take the hint and leave. It seemed impossible that this was the same woman he’d once loved.

  “I’ve been thinking. After everything that happened on Saturday…” Lauren hesitated, losing her nerve to reach out to him. “I was hoping we could—”

  “Could what?” Donovan looked up from his desk. He could see the surprise and confusion in her eyes.

  “I don’t know.” Lauren seemed to struggle to find the right words. “After the other day, we didn’t even say goodbye. It’s bothered me all weekend.”

  “You said goodbye over a year ago.” He thought of the picture of her in his drawer, then the photo with Erin.

  Her shoulders slumped at his words. She’d never heard him sound so bitter and wounded.

  “But that’s water under the bridge, as they say.” Donovan shuffled the papers in front of him. He found a paper clip and methodically fastened them together.

  “So there’s no room left to even talk?”

  “I’m talked out. But I can tell you one thing,” Donovan’s anger rose, “if I wanted to hurt you, I’d have done it directly. I would never have gone behind your back to discredit you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Let’s drop the pretense. I know what you’ve been doing. I know about the leaks to the press.”

  “I have no idea what you’re referring to.” Lauren unconsciously stepped back; the anger coming from Donovan filled the room.

  Donovan placed both hands on his desk as if steadying himself. “I know you’re the one who has been discrediting Eco-Watch…What I don’t know, is why. What would make you try to destroy everything I’ve worked so hard to build?”

  “Donovan. You’re the last person I’d want to hurt. And you know there’s no one who believes in Eco-Watch more than I do. Now please tell me what you think I did!”

  “Look.” Donovan sighed as he stood. He regretted bringing it up. Obviously, she would deny her part until hell froze over. “This isn’t the time or place to discuss this. We both have important jobs to do today.”

  “Are you proposing we sit down and talk later? A real conversation, as opposed to what we’re having right now?”

  Donovan wondered what Lauren was after. He was about to explain that a meeting was the last thing he wanted, when he caught something in her eyes. Was it a flicker of hope?

  “Mr. Donovan Nash?”

  Donovan looked past Lauren as a male voice called out his name from the doorway. Two men in suits breezed into the room. They both flashed official IDs as they moved closer.

  “What can I help you with?” Donovan looked at their badges; they were DIA.

  “I’m Special Agent Dixon. This is my partner Special Agent Hollingsworth. We need you to come with us.”

  “Why?” Donovan shot them a guarded look, then glared at Lauren. He knew she had to be behind this intrusion.

  “We need to ask you some questions. Now if you’ll please come with us.”

  Lauren turned to the men. “Mr. Nash is required to assist the DIA on a very important mission this morning. I’m sure whatever you need to do can wait until later.”

  “I’m sorry, Dr. McKenna,” Dixon shot back. “But my orders are to bring Mr. Nash with us back to DIA headquarters.”

  “This is bullshit!” Her temper began to rise. “No one is going anywhere until I speak with Director Reynolds.” Lauren pulled out her cell phone and began to dial.

  “Mr. Nash.” Hollingsworth stepped closer, pulling his coat aside to display his weapon. “Please keep your hands where I can see them.”

  “Calvin! It’s Lauren.” She turned away from the men. “I’m at the Eco-Watch hangar. Two men just showed up here. They’re DIA. As I speak, they’re trying to take Donovan into custody. Need I remind you it would be nice if we could make our flight this morning!”

  Donovan stood and watched as Lauren listened to whomever she had on the other end of the line. She turned and glared at the two men. Donovan couldn’t miss the semi-smug expressions on the faces of the DIA agents. He had a sinking feeling that Lauren wasn’t going to win.

  “We’ll talk later.” Lauren angrily snapped the phone shut and turned to look at Donovan.

  “I’m sorry.” She lowered her eyes. “There’s nothing I can do.”

  “It’s okay.” Donovan felt an odd rush of affection for her sweep over him. In the face of everything he knew, her concern and anger seemed genuine. But it didn’t make any sense.

  “This is such a mess.” Lauren moved closer. “I don’t know what to say. I think this is absurd.”

  “That’s enough, Dr. McKenna,” Dixon warned as he slid between them. “He’ll get his chance to explain.”

  Donovan saw the expression of alarm on Lauren’s face. He was completely confused. Why was she trying to protect him now, after all she’d done to precipitate these events?

  “Pat him down,” Dixon ordered.

  Donovan stood motionless as Hollingsworth frisked him. He locked eyes with Lauren. She was clearly horrified.

  “He’s clean. You want me to cuff him?”

  “That’s up to you, Mr. Nash,” Dixon said, carefully. “Will you come on your own accord? Not make any trouble?”

  “If I were going to make trouble, you’d have seen it by now,” Donovan replied, still conflicted over Lauren’s words and actions.

  “Okay. Let’s go.” Dixon nodded at his partner and stood aside to escort Donovan out of the office.

  “Lauren,” Donovan called out over his shoulder. “Tell Michael what’s going on. He and Randy can fly the trip, but it’s important for him to call William.
He needs to be informed. Michael has the number.”

  Lauren nodded. “I’m sorry. I’ll find you as soon as I get back.”

  Donovan was thankful that the lobby was vacant as they left the building. He was put into the back seat of a waiting government car. As they drove away, Donovan turned and looked back. Lauren stood at the window of his office, her hand covering her mouth. Somewhere, deep inside, he knew that her reaction wasn’t rehearsed—she was truly in shock at his being taken. All of a sudden, everything seemed completely out of sync. He’d accused her of leaking information and she’d acted as if he were speaking gibberish. Her guilt was further diminished by her actions when the DIA showed up. Either Lauren was a far better liar and actress than he ever dreamed, or he and William were wrong about a great many things. Donovan didn’t know exactly what was waiting for him at DIA headquarters. Hopefully, once William threw his formidable powers into the loop, his arrest would be short-lived. Donovan took a long look at the facility. The Galileo was being pulled out onto the ramp. The people about to climb on board were who he lived for. He knew he would miss them far more than he could imagine. He thought he’d have one last day of flying before he became Robert Huntington once again. But as they sped through the gloomy morning toward the District, he knew it wasn’t to be.

  Michael!” Lauren called out the second she burst onto the hangar floor. She quickly covered the distance to where he stood.

  “What’s up?”

  “Donovan was just arrested! Two DIA agents took him away.”

  “They took Donovan?”

  Lauren could see a look of suspicion on Michael’s face. “He said for you and Randy to take the trip, but he wanted you to call William VanGelder.”

  “Did they say where they were taking him?”