And then he saw it. A multi-segmented metallic device measuring nearly six feet in length clamped to the side of the submarine. The damned thing looked like a lamprey. It was almost more insectoid than mechanical, glinting as it slowly swayed in the current. Jonah swam close to it, feeling the heat rising from its reflective skin. He ran a cautious hand along the length of its exoskeleton; recoiling as the metal shivered to his sudden touch. Jonah slipped the edge of his crowbar between the device and the hull, preparing to pry it off when it suddenly disengaged on its own, wriggling away into the brackish waters. He was barely able to reach out and grab it by the tail, holding it fast before it could escape into the darkness and disappear forever.
Jonah dropped the flashlight, watching the bulb slowly rotate to the ocean floor as he was physically dragged away from the Scorpion. He cocked back the crowbar like a spear before jamming the end into the largest seam in the metallic exoskeleton. The thrashing device twisted in his grasp as he slowly drove the metal crowbar deeper and deeper into its soft carapace.
The device twisted, reared back and shuddered one last time before going limp in his hand. Jonah looked around, realizing with surprise that he’d been dragged nearly a hundred feet from the now-distant Scorpion. Fortunately, the abandoned dive light penetrated the dark waters like a fog-shrouded lighthouse. Just visible enough to lead him back to the stern of the submarine. Swimming down to retrieve the lost light, Jonah was able to take a closer look at the device. His flashlight glinted off its articulated shell, the sharp, tooth-like spikes from where it’d bitten into the side of his submarine. He supposed the real secrets probably lay inside its electronic guts—Vitaly could take a closer look once he was back inside. At least it wasn’t trying to wriggle free anymore. The crowbar seemed to have disabled it for good.
Jonah glanced down at his dive watch. He cocked his head to the side, confused. All the numbers were wrong, the tiny computer advising a decompression schedule three times faster than he’d anticipated—deadly if he followed its instructions. Cornered and wounded, the mysterious device had made one last effort to kill him.
Stepping down the last few rungs of the conning tower ladder, Jonah lowered himself into the command compartment, the lamprey-like metal device slung limply around his shoulders. He still wore his heavy wetsuit, but he’d left the bulk of his diving gear back at the lockout chamber. Alexis and Hassan were alone; both leaning against the command compartment as they spoke with one another in low tones.
“I see you survived,” said Hassan, arms crossed. “I’d like to check your ribs and dressings at the soonest possible opportunity.”
“Was that thing attached to the Scorpion?” asked Alexis, pointing at the foreign device. He’d yanked the crowbar out of it in the lockout chamber, the open wound still dripped with goopy white fluid.
“Yep—this was our culprit,” said Jonah. He unslung the device from his shoulders and dropped it on the chart table for the rest of the crew take a closer look. Without asking, Jonah reached into Alexis’ tool belt and withdrew a ball-peen hammer. He removed his dive watch, set it on the table next to the device, and struck it sharply three times. It shattered into a mess of broken glass and plastic.
“What the hell are you doing?” said Hassan, yanking the hammer from his grasp and handing it back to Alexis before Jonah could do any further damage. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Whatever this thing is, it got into my dive watch and rewrote the decompression tables,” said Jonah, pointing to the device. “Started giving instructions that would have fizzed me up like a Pepsi in a paint shaker. I think I killed it, but I’d recommend keeping it away from anything electronic nonetheless.”
Alexis held a small EM meter over the device, ignoring his explicit instructions. “I’m still reading electronic activity,” she reported. “It’s not disabled—not entirely, anyway.”
“I’m going to take a look inside,” said Jonah. He motioned Alexis to help him hold the device down as he wrapped his bare hands around a shell-like section of the metallic exoskeleton.
Jonah looked over his shoulder as he grunted with exertion. Freya had let herself out of his cabin again. She stood quietly, silhouetted in the bulkhead doorframe as she peered over their shoulders from a distance.
He adjusted his grip and pulled again, slowly bending the metal carapace open to reveal a grotesque, writhing mass of pulsating organs and electronic wiring. The living tissue quivered one last time before sagging.
“My god,” said Hassan. “It . . . it was alive.”
“Well, that was unexpected.” Jonah scratched his forehead in stunned amazement.
“And super gnarly,” added Alexis, wrinkling her nose. “I can’t believe how ugly it is.”
“You think that’s ugly?” asked Freya from the other side of the command compartment. “You should see its mother.”
CHAPTER 22
Jonah shot a finger across the command compartment, leveling it at Freya. “Start talking,” he ordered. “Start talking right goddamn now.”
Smirking, Freya slumped against the bulkhead, letting her slightly amused stare carefully drift from Hassan to Alexis before finally bringing it to rest on Jonah. She took her time before answering, expression changing as she considered Jonah with a chilling mixture of fury and boredom. The protracted silence lingered, filled only with the smell of the decaying organism and the churning propellers of the still-gathering Japanese fleet above.
“I want to hear your speech first,” said Freya, her voice quiet and hard.
“What speech?”
“The one where you list your demands. Your threats. Your quid-pro-quo. Maybe you’ll try to sweet-talk me into submission, make me promises until one takes. This is a transactional relationship, isn’t it? I got you out of the building. You got me out of the city. Now you need something. Maybe I need something, too. So let’s hear the speech.”
Alexis sat back in her chair, kicking her booted feet up onto Sun-Hi’s dead communications console. “We lose track of who owes who pretty quickly down here in the blue,” she said, arms crossed.
“What, like I’m supposed to believe you’re all friends?” said Freya, letting the final word drip off her tongue like poison.
“Believe whatever the fuck you want,” said Alexis, dropping her feet from the console once more. Her boots landed hard on the deck, their impact ringing throughout the compartment as she leaned forward. “And if it were up to me, you’d get your goddamn speech—I’d tell you to start talkin’ or start swimmin’.”
Freya bared her red-flecked teeth at Alexis, her gums still bleeding from the fight.
“That’s enough,” interrupted Jonah, ending the exchange before it could escalate. “I’ll bite. What do you want?”
Freya pretended to need a moment before answering. “To recognize the primacy of ecology and forever humble the human species,” she said. “To dismantle the suicidal trajectory of resource exploitation and industry—to end social and cultural stratification and destroy all forms of domestication and subordination. I’d like to begin by razing the fossil fuel industry to the ground and hanging every one of their C-level executives, but I’d be willing to start by shooting their bought-and-paid-for lawyers and politicians instead. I’m not picky.”
Jonah shuffled from foot to foot in irritation. He wanted to walk over, grab her by the shirt, physically rip out the information he required of her.
“You seek to bring about an end to modern civilization through environmentalist anarchism,” said Hassan in a clipped, aristocratic tone. “How blindingly trite.”
“I believe in a lasting peace between humanity and the world.”
“Through the perpetration of violence.”
“I subvert violence,” snapped Freya, turning to stare down the doctor.
“Nobody here asked for a goddamn manifesto,” said Jonah. “And in case I wasn’t clear enough the first time . . . what do you specifically want from me?”
Freya s
miled, again showing the blood still running between her teeth. “I want your submarine. And your crew.” Alexis involuntarily snorted with laughter, the sharp sound punctuating the hum of the ventilation system. Ignoring her, Freya tiptoed into the center of the command compartment and gently brushed her hand against the periscope as though measuring a new set of drapes.
“That’s an interesting request,” said Jonah, playing along for the moment. “Does this scenario involve simply stepping aside and pledging my undying allegiance, or should I expect to walk a gangplank of some variety?”
“You should take off that wetsuit,” said Freya dismissively. “I can’t take anything you say seriously. You look like a giant, misshapen condom.”
“Be cautious what you request,” said Hassan. “The captain has developed an unfortunate habit of strutting about in the nude.”
“I’ve got no problem losing the wetsuit,” said Jonah with an ugly laugh. “I’ll just need a minute to change into something you’ll find familiar—maybe a backless hospital gown with my ass hanging two cheeks to the wind?”
Freya’s eyes flashed with anger. “I’ll fight you for it,” she said. “You win, I’ll tell you everything you want to know and more. But if I win, I take your sub and your crew.”
“The crew’s not mine to give—” began Jonah.
Alexis cut in before he could continue. “That’s not how we do things onboard the Scorpion,” she said. “And you’re a couple sandwiches short of a picnic if you think we’re turning the ol’ girl over to the likes of you.”
“So how did he become your captain?” asked Freya, spitting the words at Alexis and Hassan as she gestured angrily towards Jonah. “Was he a dutiful first officer, putting in his time for a meritorious promotion? Did you vote on the best qualified among you? Or did he take it by force?”
“Technically speaking, Jonah did murder the last captain,” mused Alexis. “So I guess you have a point there.”
“As Jonah’s physician, I forcefully discourage him from fighting anyone in his present condition,” said Hassan. “Besides, the idea of using physical force to establish a new command hierarchy is patently absurd.”
“No shit,” said Alexis. “She already kicked his ass up one way and down the other. I just don’t want to see him lose another fight. It’s happened so often it’s gotten embarrassing.”
“Don’t remind me,” groaned Jonah, wincing as he sat down. He looked at Freya for the longest time before speaking again. “I’m going to take the doc’s advice. Let’s call the rematch indefinitely postponed. Bottom line, nobody on my sub is going to twist your arm into giving up whatever’s knocking around in that blonde bat-shit locker you call a brain. Let’s keep this simple—if you feel like doing us a solid, stick around and tell me something I don’t already know. Otherwise, get the fuck out of my command compartment and find someplace on this sub where I don’t have to look at you. I’ve had it with your games.”
Freya’s face went cold as she looked to each of the three one final time. “You should have told him to fight me,” she whispered. “You won’t have a chance without my help. You’re just a bunch of tourists and amateurs with no idea what you stumbled into.”
“So tell us,” implored Alexis. “Tell us what we’re up against.”
“Why bother? I’ve known outfits like yours before, men like your captain. You’re all just followers, swarming around a clueless man who will eventually get you caught or killed. I’ve seen it happen too many times to count.”
Jonah drew himself to his feet, staggering for a moment before catching his balance. “I’ve heard what you have to say,” he said. “There are not many people who live a more precarious existence than this crew, and I’m not going to pretend we’re all best friends. That being said, there’s a damned good reason we sail together, sink or swim.”
“Also, I don’t reckon we’re looking for another captain,” added Alexis. “At least not until this one gets used up.”
Hassan stood up next to his captain, placing a supportive hand on Jonah’s back. “I helped this man escape from prison,” said the doctor. “And rightly expected his betrayal at the first opportunity. But instead, I found a man who would come to sacrifice more for me—and this crew—than any of us could have asked.”
“He’s half right,” said Jonah. “I totally planned on skipping out at the first opportunity. Still might, if I ever get around to it.”
“These guys kidnapped me,” said Alexis, shooting a sly smile at Hassan. “But they seemed nice enough, so I decided to tag along for a spell. And then it became something more. I’d normally make a joke about Stockholm syndrome, but everybody’s heard ’em already.”
Freya smirked again. “That’s adorable,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I have to admit, I expected a completely different speech. Something with more implied torture, and less kumbaya around the ol’ campfire. You got cute stories about the big black one, the little Korean one, and the Russian, too?”
“Depends on how cute you find our doc pulling bullets out of both men.” Jonah snapped. Freya started to speak, but Jonah cut her off before she could say a word. “And just so we’re clear, in Vitaly’s case, those bullets were put there by me. Oh, and the adorable stories don’t end there. Sun-Hi’s a stowaway and somebody recently murdered just about everyone she’s ever loved or cared about. You seem to know the folks responsible, but you’re determined to keep that information to yourself. You’re welcome to explain your theory of transactional relationships to her, because I ran out of anything but platitudes a long time ago. You want to know if I’m going to threaten you? Cajole you? Bargain with you? I’m stitched together with expired painkillers, waterlogged MREs, and violent notions, and my crew has been through hell. So if there is one goddamn thing you can tell me about this rogue operation—”’
“It’s not an operation. Not anymore.”
A murmur of upset and uncertainty circled the three crewmembers. Jonah let the silence fall hard. Something in Freya had changed; a far-away look shone in her eyes as she stared into empty space. A sliver of the mask had finally fallen. “What did you say?”
“It’s not an operation. It’s a man. One man.”
“The guy we tried to grab—”
“No, he was a nobody. I just needed a convenient hostage. You want Yasua Himura, founder of SABC Electronics. He’s a recluse, hasn’t set foot on land for over a decade.”
“And how do you know he’s the one responsible?”
Freya gritted her teeth. “I did things for him.”
“Like what?”
“I hurt people.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought I was doing the right thing. He’d been watching me—got me out of some bad trouble in Seattle. I thought we were on the same side. I thought he wanted what I wanted. I was wrong.”
Jonah nodded, wary. He lowered himself to a squatting position, almost sitting on his wetsuit-encased heels as he leaned against the command compartment bulkhead, chin resting on folded arms atop his knees. “I’m going to go out on a limb and assume this big trouble in Jet City wasn’t a few too many unpaid parking tickets.”
“I bombed a naval architecture firm. Killed someone who shouldn’t have even been there. Himura’s men found me just before the FBI did. Got me out of the country, put me to work.”
“So, it wasn’t a free ride.”
“Yeah. At first I thought the whole thing was my idea. He brought me into his inner sanctum, told me his secrets. That worm you pried off the side of your ship is nothing. His technological genius is generations past anything you could imagine. I’ve seen it down a whole squadron of fighter planes in seconds. It’s massive—hundreds of times bigger than that thing on the chart table. He calls it Meisekimu. Like it’s a woman or something. You got close— scared him—that’s why he went after you in Tokyo Harbor. He never had any real intentions of helping me with what I wanted. Himura intended to start a war the entire time, and he us
ed me to further his plan. I still don’t know why any of this is happening. I don’t know a fucking thing about Japan or North Korea or whatever. All I know is that he said I was his perfect instrument—perfectly fucking gullible more like it.”
Jonah nodded. “He’s pissed off both sides, and now the entire region is one poorly-timed popcorn fart away from blowing up, just like he wants.”
Freya cocked her head as she stared at Jonah and Jonah alone. “I could help you kill him,” she whispered. “The one man behind all the destruction that’s been laid at your feet.”
Jonah scowled as he glanced between Freya and his crew.
“I could help you,” she implored.
“Then tell me how.”
“I know what ship he’s on.”
“Useless. Even if I had a place to start looking—which I don’t—he’s probably already gone dark, and I can’t track his transponder. All those games—is that really the best you had?”
“You have to kill him. You have to,” Freya was almost begging now, her knuckles white as she half-grabbed at the air in impotent anger.
Jonah said nothing for a few moments as he waited for her to lapse into silence. “Give me a few minutes to speak with my crew in private,” he said. “I’ll see if I can come up with something.”
Freya looked around at the three one final time. None spoke. She turned without saying another word, casting a look at Jonah over her shoulder as she walked down the corridor back to the cabins. Jonah watched her go, waiting until the last hatch shut before he returned his attention to Hassan and Alexis.
“So, how about we get the fuck out of here while we still can?” he said.
“Oh, thank God,” said Alexis, breathing a sigh of relief. “I thought for a second you were actually considering going after this Himura guy.”
“No way,” said Jonah. “It’s not that I’m totally above a little revenge. But the way I see it, the Scorpion is beat to shit and so are we. Yasua Himura deserves a bullet as much as anyone I’ve ever known, but I don’t see how Freya can think we’re in any position to deliver it.”
RED SUN ROGUE Page 28