The Island Project: A Thriller

by Taylor Buck

  “You were right. Looks like we’ve got ourselves a murder.”

  “Oh yeah? How so?” Sullivan asked.

  “Still working that out, but this guy was chased by something.”

  “Some—thing? You mean it wasn’t done by a human?” Sullivan’s tone seemed intrigued, almost excited.

  “It doesn’t appear that way. I don’t want to make too many assumptions yet, and I know it sounds crazy, but I believe we are on the hunt for an animal,” Lee said.

  Sullivan was quiet on the other line.

  “A mauling? How about the wound? Can you make out what kind of animal from the wounds? Bites, rips or tears—that kind of thing?

  “That’s the thing, Terry. There are no bite marks. The guy was crushed. Something really heavy or extremely powerful pancaked him.”

  There was a brief pause on the line.

  “What kind of animal on this island could kill a grown man, especially like that?” Sullivan thought as he asked the question. “A boar?”

  “Not a boar. Whatever this thing is, it’s fast—faster than a boar, and longer. You should see the prints.”

  Lee continued. “Terry, this thing, whatever it is—it runs like a cheetah. Of course…the prints don’t match any kind of cat, though.”

  There was a quick pause on the line. They were both thinking.

  “What in the world kind of animal would be on this island that fits that description?” asked Sullivan, clearly perplexed.

  “Maybe what we’re looking for isn’t from here—maybe it was brought here.”

  “Domesticated pets? You think someone brought in an animal from the port?

  “Well, It’s clearly not domesticated yet,” answered Lee sarcastically.

  “Far from it, but it could be a possibility. Even as a pet, what would do this though?

  “I don’t know. You hear of celebrities owning tigers and exotic pets. We’ve got a handful of celebs living here on the island,” Lee said.

  “Well at this point, we should explore any option we have. Not likely, but check it out.”

  “Whatever it is, I’ll figure it out. I’m on it.” Lee replied in a confident voice.

  Lee finished up the conversation with Chief Sullivan and continued to survey the scene. He was on to something big here. Lee had the feeling that he was scratching the surface of something much deeper. It was certainly unlike anything he had come across before.

  Distant sounds of tires crackling on a dirt road signaled the approach of the oncoming legion of press vans. This was going to be big news for the island, and the crime scene was about to get overrun very quickly.

  Lee had a lot of work to do. He couldn’t waste time.

  CHAPTER 3

  HAKALAU FOREST NATIONAL WILDLIFE REFUGE

  14 OCTOBER, 11:30 A.M.

  Tom Bennett hiked beneath a dense canopy of green foliage spreading out for miles, protecting the endangered wildlife living below. The place was an untouched Eden. It was like stepping back in time and roaming among the animals—living among them.

  They were everywhere.

  The name of the protected Eden was the Hakalau Forest National Wildlife Refuge and Bennett was up to his ankles in mud at the moment. He walked north along a stream. Large, wet ferns along the bank forced him to walk in the water. He was thankful for his field boots at the moment, doing their job and keeping his feet dry. Bennett ducked under a downed tree, cleared it and found his footing on some mossy rocks on the other side. He continued moving steadily up the stream.

  The sunlight filtered in through the dense tree canopy. White beams of light shone down through the thick, damp atmosphere. It was a climate exuding living things–amazingly scenic all around him. The colors of the plants, mixed with the wild coloring of the birds were a sight to behold. Rich greenery spread as far as the eye could see. Red, yellow, blue and orange birds danced in the branches above. It was nothing less than enchanting.

  Bennett jumped to a bed of small pebbles lining the stream and stopped immediately. He froze. Staring straight ahead, he steadied himself and listened intently on the sounds all around him.

  There it was again. He heard it—at least he thought he had.

  Bennett wasn’t necessarily accustomed to tracking his subjects like this. It was a hunt, and he was the hunter. He caught himself reverting to tactics in his mind ingrained there from military training years ago. Instinctively, he moved close to the bed of palms to his right, covering him from line of sight. The palm leaves provided adequate camouflage for him and he could still comfortably see through the opening between some bamboo shoots. This was as good a place as any.

  He ducked down and waited.

  There. His eyes caught a flash of movement between the trees.

  Bennett quietly reached into his case trying intently to avoid any noise from the components inside. He gripped the dark metal and began fitting the pieces together, snapping them carefully into place. He steadied his arms. His left elbow was braced against a mossy, fallen tree and the other arm was steadied with his finger gently caressing the trigger.

  He focused the object in his cross hairs, making sure his shot was perfectly lined up. He took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly.

  Click.

  Three more.

  Click…click, click.

  He looked down at the LCD screen to make sure the shots were in focus. They were. Bennett adjusted the aperture down one f-stop. He fired off five more shots. The camera lens purred softly as he adjusted his position and fired off a few more frames. “Perfect.” Bennett thought to himself. The shots were exactly what he needed.

  The crimson red feathers were coming through amazingly vibrant. The long, curved pink bill and distinctive black plumage on the feathers confirmed this was the right bird too.

  It was an ‘I’iwi.

  This bird, now endangered, was once a plentiful species that lived freely on all islands in Hawaii. Today, however, it was a rare occurrence to come across one of these brightly colored creatures anywhere. Bennett had successfully captured that rare occurrence.

  Proof for the day, he thought.

  For the past five days, Bennett had been photographing various locations all over the island. He had been sent to Hawaii for work—if you could call hiking around a tropical playground “work”. Certainly, Hawaii was an ideal location. Bennett was enjoying his time there. It also helped that his expenses were fully funded.

  Bennett was currently working as the Director of Photography for an upcoming nature film. A film backed by the largest commercial media company in the world and Bennett had landed the gig due to his extensive background in photography. He had been sent there to scout locations. Today’s findings had proven fruitful, and Bennett felt very confident about the location.

  Tom Bennett was a professional. He was a photographer, and he was also a philanthropist of sorts. His work really allowed him to be both. Bennett had always been drawn to photography, however he developed his skill for shooting his subjects outside of any formal schooling.

  He honed his skills on the battlefield.

  Bennett joined the military when he was nineteen and chose the path of photography. He learned to document warfare in a highly visualized sense. He was able to capture the visceral grittiness of the battlefield, and his photos unfailingly exposed the heavy emotion that was ever-present in combat. It was this ability that set him apart from other photographers. He won multiple awards and experienced actual combat on many occasions. His work covering the invasion of Iraq in 2003, specifically his “Shock and Awe” photographs earned him Military Photographer of the Year, a highly respected title among the field. It was an amazing accomplishment for a twenty year old.

  His time in the military provided many opportunities for him to see the world. He had been st
ationed in Iraq, Afghanistan, Israel, Uganda, Egypt and China. His time stationed in these places allowed him to study the people affected by regional warfare. After four years, he left the military and focused his photography in a commercial mode. A native of Southern California, Bennett opened a studio in Los Angeles and managed to work closely with some big Hollywood names. He worked hard and made a name for himself, eventually collecting a stable earning from his photography. Bennett himself became somewhat of a poster child for the industry, too, with his athletic build and natural, Cali-surfer good looks. He was featured on the cover of Professional Photographer Magazine in 2009 posed in a mock military battle scene. They had him sporting his military buffs and all. Bennett’s short military-length hair dripped with sweat and his strong jaw clenched as he clutched his camera in one hand and strong-armed an enemy soldier with the other. It was a ridiculously romanticized version of real warfare. Bennett later regretted doing it.

  After a few years, he soon became tired with commercial life and yearned for adventure again. He missed the journeys brought by travel and decided to invest in expeditions of his own. He knew he wanted to help people; he knew that was his passion. When Bennett turned thirty, he made the life decision to return to the places he had seen through his military travels and go back to help rebuild the lives affected.

  Bennett had been doing this for a few years now—travelling around, landing where he was needed. Spending time with a civilization, learning, helping—moving on. He found it hard staying in one place for too long. Because of this, he wasn’t able to cultivate much of a relationship with anyone either. He had had girlfriends—even a few serious ones. But none of them could keep up with his spontaneous nature. He liked to work alone, anyway—one with nature, and one with his work.

  The ‘I’iwi flew off. The flash of scarlet now a fleeting encounter. However, Bennett had collected solid proof of the bird’s existence in the reserve. He had also shot some other rare creatures today. The Pueo Owl, the Indian Mongoose and what he thought was a Coqui Frog.

  Bennett was confident that this was a prime location for filming. Due to the lean camera crew that would be on-site, they wouldn’t disturb the habitat either. They had made an agreement with the State of Hawaii Wildlife Preserve not to disturb any of the natural environment. Bennett was adamant about keeping this agreement.

  Bennett screwed the lens cap back on his camera and placed it back into its case. He swung the bag across his shoulder and cinched the buckle tight against his chest. He checked the GPS on his phone. A blue dot popped up, showing Bennett exactly where he was—about three miles from the entrance to the reserve.

  He still had a lot to cover today. In order to get it all in he would have to keep moving. Bennett started back down the stream, hopping over moss rocks when he remembered the waterfall he had seen on his hike in. If he left now he could swing by to scout it quickly on his way out…could be a great location for an opening scene.

  Thump, thump, thump, thump…

  A steady, thundering reverberation quickly began to close in—distant, then at once directly overhead.

  Bennett looked up.

  A white helicopter flew by. It was close enough to rustle the large branches in the trees overhead.

  Hovering a bit close to the tree line, Bennett thought.

  The chopper continued on and eventually ducked out of site behind the tree canopy.

  Bennett reached down and soaked his handkerchief in the stream. He tied it behind his neck and then started his hike out through the reserve.

  ONE MILE AWAY, at a large research facility, a helicopter touched down on a landing pad. A tall man in a suit exited the helicopter and entered an access door leading inside a building.

  CHAPTER 4

  CERTA HEADQUARTERS, LABORATORY

  14 OCTOBER, 11:55 A.M.

  “Get Danner down here immediately! I want a full explanation for this and it had better be convincing.”

  Dr. Rupert Perry entered the room from the roof access stairwell barking orders to the first lab technician he came in contact with. The roar of the helicopter faded as the door closed behind him. The lab tech responded with an unintelligible reply and scurried away, noticeably frightened. The other lab techs stopped what they were doing upon the entry of Dr. Perry. Understandably so, there was a presence that he commanded whenever he was in the room that seemed to cut through everything else going on.

  Perry stood tall at six foot five, making his large physique match his boisterous disposition. He wore an expensive, dark gray suit. His silver hair was slicked straight back and he donned a pair of black, horn-rimmed glasses. Perry had icy blue eyes that pierced through even the most hardened company executives. His British accent only facilitated the slings of insults he threw at his employees, and he was notorious for his verbal lashings. Dr. Perry was the kind of man who didn’t have to deal with mistakes often. This was probably because most employees would rather forfeit their jobs than deal with a heated encounter with Dr. Rupert Perry.

  He was a genius, nevertheless.

  An Oxford graduate and a Rhodes Scholar, Perry received his doctorate in engineering from Oxford by the age of twenty and was brought into the fold by Marconi Electronic Systems (MES) in 1963 where he pioneered scientific research and development. MES was a British defense contractor that produced many of the defense electronics used in today’s weapon manufacturing. Perry became the rising star at MES for his advancements in military systems integration and weapons technology.

  Perry worked on many weapons concepts for MES including the Sting Ray Torpedo in the 1970s, where he subsequently achieved a sort of legendary status among scientists since he was one of the only surviving scientists from the original group to work on the Sting Ray Torpedo. Between 1982 and 1990, twenty-five MES scientists had died under mysterious circumstances—making Perry one of only two survivors.

  He was also at the forefront of robotic technology. Perry pioneered major technological advancements in the field of early nanorobotics. He developed many of the founding principles of “swarm robotic intelligence” and created a series of base algorithms used in today’s research. In 1998, MES underwent a £7.7 billion merger with British Aerospace resulting in today’s BAE Systems. Perry left shortly after the merger and was recruited by the U.S. into a small defense operation backed by DARPA (Defense Advanced Research Project Agency). The company was founded in 2003 as CERTA (Center for Excellence in Robotic Technological Advancements). Dr. Rupert Perry headed the organization and managed to establish an agreement with DARPA to base his operations in a remote location—Hawaii. He deemed it necessary to be closed off from anything that could distract his team’s scientific progress. Furthermore, he was able to secure a “No Questions Asked” funding policy with the Department of Defense (DOD)—which was basically like placing an ATM on-site that dealt out money whenever it was needed.

  To his benefit, Perry knew how to manipulate people in order to get his way. It was this ability that allowed CERTA to maintain operations so undisclosed from not only society, but from the government that was supplying it.

  Perry rubbed his temples. The pressure from the helicopter hadn’t yet subsided, and he was suffering from a headache, making him even more intolerable. The lab doors swung open and in walked Rick Danner. Danner was Head of Security at CERTA and had been with the company since its inception. He was a brute of a man and, upon first impression, his rippling muscles and short-cropped hair gave him the appearance of a meathead. However, Rick Danner was ex-Delta Force. He was strong, intelligent and infamously stubborn. He had been handpicked by Dr. Perry to lead security at CERTA.

  “Dr. Perry.” Danner shot out a greeting to Perry, even though he knew it was useless. Perry was visibly angry.

  “Rick, I want to know what happened,” Perry said in a firm but controlled tone. “I don’t want any excuses about protocol
either. I want you to tell me what went wrong, and then I want you to tell me what you’re going to do to fix the mess you’ve made.”

  Danner instantly became uncomfortable. The entire lab floor was listening in on his scolding and he wasn’t used to being the one getting the lecture. “I assure you that we are already taking necessary action to resolve the situation and make sure we cover our tracks,” Danner said as his eyes darted around.

  Danner’s expression appeared pained, though it was hard to tell this particular expression from his others. His usual look was a wincing, sun-in-the-eyes stare, similar to Clint Eastwood’s coined grimace. Danner stared straight at Dr. Perry through narrowed eyes. He spoke slow and steady—as he always did.

  “Please,” Danner said and gestured towards the hallway. “If you follow me over to the enclosures I will show you exactly what happened.” Danner was doing everything he could to divert his public admonishment over to a more private location.

  “I’m following, Rick—go,” Perry demanded.

  Danner led Dr. Perry out of the floor lab and down the long hallway. They paced down the outer corridor under the rows of pale, fluorescent lights towards the enclosure—also known as the “den”.

  CHAPTER 5

  THE DEN

  14 OCTOBER, 11:54 A.M.

  Rick Danner touched his keychain to the receiver and the door hissed open. He and Dr. Perry stepped inside. Danner flicked on the switch that controlled the interior lights of the den. The two men watched as the lights flickered and sputtered to life. Soon the entire room was illuminated.

  The enclosure, or den as they referred to it, was a large room with four containment factions on either side. The factions were ten by twelve foot stalls separated by concrete walls. The face of each faction was a double-reinforced, transparent sheet of ballistic glass that ran from the floor, up fourteen feet, to an exposed ceiling. A door was etched into the glass of each faction, held firmly in place by a large locking mechanism that ran the length of the door.