by Josh Karnes
Chapter 43
San Juan, Puerto Rico
The television played out the career-ending drama right before his eyes as Carson Lee sat in Thermion's Gulfstream on approach to San Juan. The Fox News correspondent was reporting from what looked like the deck of a boat, with Isla Roca plainly evident and adorned with Thermion's compound in the background.
“Lisa,” the correspondent said as reporters do, talking to the anchor as if they are having a conversation, “As you can see, the Coast Guard has been called in to assist in the search for Joseph Grady that is now focusing on this tiny private island known locally as 'Isla Roca'. Since late this afternoon search teams in a large patrol boat, a small Zodiac as well as a Coast Guard helicopter can be seen combing the water and coastline in effort to find the missing teen. Additionally, a FBI helicopter has been frequently shuttling back and forth between Isla Roca and tourist-centered Vieques to the south, where we are told the temporary headquarters of this search has been set up. Local authorities assure us that this is a rescue effort, and they hope to find young Joseph Grady, alive. Lisa.”
“That's Katie Compton, reporting from the water near Isla Roca, Puerto Rico on the search for Joseph Grady, missing since Monday. The FBI Special Agent in Charge of the San Juan office read a statement just moments ago at the steps of the Vieques police station. We have the tape.” The scene changed to the now-familiar Vieques police station facade where a serious-looking man began to speak as a banner below him read, “Michael Otero FBI Puerto Rico.”
“The search for Joseph Grady has moved its focus to Isla Roca, near Culebra. The US Coast Guard has committed resources to assist the FBI and local police in the search. We have every indication that Joseph Grady was lost during a diving trip near the small island and for the immediate future we are committed to finding him there.”
The crawl at the bottom of the screen continued to list cursory details about the investigation. Joseph Grady, age 17, from Houston Texas. Why the family was in Vieques. Who is heading the investigation. Some brief information about El Pliegue. And then, of course: Isla Roca, private island leased by defense contractor Thermion, conducting secretive research, et cetera. How long until they dug into what they were actually doing there? Days? Hours?
The news report on the screen transitioned to an interview with one of the Gradys' friends in Houston just as the plane touched down. Carson Lee didn't wait to arrive at the terminal before dialing Larry's cell phone number. “Duncan,” the voice said on the other end of the phone.
“Larry, what in the hell is going on down there? I just saw my own facility in the background of a news report with some infobabe telling me about the Coast Guard combing through the water there and a team of FBI agents on my island. On national TV! This was on Fox News, Larry. They are running this story around the clock, or so it would seem. How did this get out of control in the past couple of hours?”
“Carson, with all due respect, back off. I really have my hands full here. A whole team of FBI agents and detectives including the Special Agent in Charge from San Juan just landed and I am walking right now to meet them at the helipad. The Assistant SAC is already here onsite along with the whole Grady family and a detective. This guy, Ortiz, he's not buying the GPS test story. And I only can assume that the Coast Guard is here because you rattled someone's cage in Washington. They got tipped by Homeland. The mythical reports of stuff going missing mysteriously at El Pliegue are starting to look like they might actually have some validity. And Laurie and Kyle have convinced me that we have an uncontrolled time loop happening in the Daedalus lab. I still haven't even had five minutes to get my head around that problem, and believe me, Carson, that is a big freaking problem!”
“Alright, Larry,” Carson said as he boarded the helicopter that would ferry him to Isla Roca. “I'm getting on the chopper now. I'll be there in a half hour. I know you are up to your neck in this. When I get there, hand off the FBI and police brass to me and I'll see if I can keep them out of your hair. You can get back to the lab and figure out this time loop. I don't even want to know what you are talking about, so don't try to explain it. Can you keep a lid on things for half an hour until I get there?”
“I'll see what I can do. Gotta go.”
“Me too. See you in thirty.” Carson hung up his phone as the pilot fired up the chopper.