So who were the mysterious harpooners?
That was the billion dollar question.
Noah rechecked the security monitors, but again there was no one in sight. Whoever picked off the redhead clearly wasn’t aware of the security cameras, or they would have disabled them, too. It was just a matter of time before the killers stepped in front of a camera and gave away their identity and position.
But that was time Reese didn’t have.
Tony suddenly reappeared, toting cartons of bottled water and canned food in one hand, and a bag of ice in the other. Noah took the ice from him and poured it into the blue bag to keep the antibiotics cool.
“There’s more stuff in the galley, but there’s too much to carry,” Tony stated.
“Not a problem. We’ve got enough.”
Tony peered over Noah’s shoulder at the monitors and tapped his shoulder.
“Hey, where’s Josh?” he asked, pointing at the monitor showing the dock.
Noah looked puzzled. “Who’s Josh?”
“My redheaded buddy. The guy who took the harpoon in the back.”
Alarm skittered across Noah’s nerves as he frantically rechecked the dock, but Tony was right. The body was missing. Noah’s stomach twisted into a sheepshank knot.
“It was there a minute ago! I saw it,” Noah rasped. “Who could’ve have taken it without us seeing them?”
“Maybe they did it while I was in the storeroom and you were getting medicine,” Tony proposed. “You don’t think the guys who followed me and Josh …”
“Yeah, I do,” Noah finished. “If that’s the case, they’ve got to be close by.”
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this. They might be on the boat.”
Noah clutched the crowbar so tight, his knuckles were white. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
29
Nick entered a badly maintained neighborhood bar six blocks from his aunt’s house and treated his bruised ego to a few scotches on the rocks. The interior atmosphere was American tacky with picture tube televisions mounted on the grimy paneled walls, but he really didn’t care. He was in the process of plotting his next investigative move. The scotch lubed his thinking process.
When Nick finished, he paid and braved the outdoor heat again. He placed a call to the President of Scripps Institute of Oceanography, not to be confused with the nearby Scripps Research Institute. The executive secretary informed Nick the man he wanted to meet was Frank Mesenburg, but he wasn’t taking any calls. Nick played his national security card, and the secretary grudgingly forwarded his call to her boss.
Nick introduced himself and explained he was assigned a case with life and death implications. He requested a meeting with Mesenburg and Sue Wright’s boss that afternoon, in hopes their cooperation might help resolve the case. Nick name-dropped United States President Sheldon Hanover’s name several times, implying they were close friends. In reality, Nick and President Hanover were close professional associates. To Nick’s relief, his ploy worked. The Scripps president agreed to meet with him in two hours.
Nick hailed a taxi and instructed the driver to drive him to the closest car rental business. He browsed the available cars before selecting a late-model red Chevrolet Impala for the short trip to Scripps. The institute was located in La Jolla, too.
He had considered teleporting to Scripps instead of going through the hassle of renting a car, but the property’s comprehensive security made it difficult to materialize on the property without being seen. Plus, the lives of his niece and nephew were at stake, so he didn’t want to raise Mesenburg’s suspicion.
With two hours to kill, Nick drove to a well-known restaurant and ordered a light lunch and coffee. While he waited for his food order, he researched Scripps Institute of Oceanography on his iPad. He wanted to be well-versed on every aspect of the institute before meeting with Frank Mesenburg, so he could ask pertinent questions. Off-the-cuff questions usually got him nowhere because he didn’t know enough background information to elicit pertinent answers. After lackadaisical interviews as a rookie agent, he did his homework from then on.
There were literally thousands of Internet articles about Scripps, but most of them provided general information, such as the institute being the world’s oldest and largest ocean research center, having been founded in 1903. Nick needed to focus on their areas of oceanographic research so he could probe the Scripps pair about Noah’s recent projects. For instance, if a rival oceanographic institute developed an identical research venture to Noah’s project and sought to eliminate the competition that could be the motivation for Noah’s disappearance. That meant the Final Scream fiasco was a front for something more sinister. The idea was a longshot, but it was the only plausible theory he had.
Nick continued his Internet research. The institute originally focused its efforts on ocean and Earth science study, but since becoming a part of the University of California in 1912, Scripps expanded its scope to include exploring physics, chemistry, geology, biology, and the Earth’s climate. The institution's research programs encompassed biological, physical, chemical, geological, and geophysical studies. Hundreds of ocean and Earth scientists conducted worldwide research with the aid of the Scripps’ shore-based laboratories and fleet of oceanographic vessels. The public explorations arm of the institution was the enormous Birch Aquarium at Scripps.
Nick scrolled down and discovered a sampling of Scripps integrated research themes, including Earth through time and space, global change, environment and human health, marine life, hazards, and energy and the environment.
Nick was duly impressed, but the material was certainly short on specifics. He was no closer to identifying possible Noah projects than he was when he entered the restaurant. He consumed his lunch at a leisurely pace, sucked on a breath mint to cover his scotch breath, paid, and eased his red Impala into the after-lunch traffic. A dozen traffic lights later, he parked at the Scripps parking lot off Kennel Way and admired the massive oceanside facility. A flowery tangle of shrubbery and a broad sandy beach separated the massive complex from the churning Pacific. An ultramodern white pier extended a thousand feet into the rolling whitecaps and was utilized to provide real-time video and data on beach and surf conditions, as well as harmful algal blooms.
Nick entered the beige building and signed the visitor log at the guard station. The friendly guard passed him a plastic visitor badge restricting his access to specified campus research areas. Nick pushed the elevator Up button seconds before one of the elevator cars chimed and the door slid open. A well-groomed man stepped out and spoke to Nick.
“You must be Nick Bellamy,” he said and shook Nick’s hand. “I’m Frank Mesenburg, Scripps president.”
Nick returned his smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He glanced over the shorter man’s shoulder. “Where’s Sue Wright’s boss?”
“Donna’s waiting in my office. We didn’t want to gang up on you.”
Nick anticipated the president’s secretary meeting him upstairs when he exited the elevator, but Mesenburg’s personal greeting in the lobby was a welcome surprise, and an excellent first impression. The man’s physical appearance was fairly nondescript. Medium build and height. A full salt and pepper beard concealed all his features except his hawk nose and moss green eyes.
The elevator whisked them to the top floor, where they entered Mesenburg’s office. Donna Lake, the institute’s vice president, jumped up from her seat and introduced herself as Sue’s immediate supervisor. Nick noted that her stout figure strained the seams of her stained white lab coat, which didn’t create a great first impression. Her deeply lined, leathery complexion indicated a life of excessive tanning at the expense of her appearance. She looked much older than she was. Her flared nostrils, thin lips, sapphire eyes, and scraggly auburn hair reminded Nick of a plump scarecrow.
They sat on the plushly padded chairs circling a round cherry table. Nick ran the tip of his finger across the polished finish. Very expensive.
>
“Now what can we do for you, Nick?” Mesenburg asked warily. “You mentioned something about a life and death situation.”
“Yes, but first allow me to fill you both in on the particulars of my investigation that aren’t classified.” Nick broad brushed the case specifics as they related to the Final Scream enigma. He emphasized Noah Wright’s involvement as a show contestant, since he was a Scripps employee.
“Unfortunately, I don’t know much about the Final Scream problem,” Mesenburg said sadly. “I’ve been in touch with Maggie Wentworth over at Oracle, but she claims she doesn’t know any more than I do—but I suspect she’s playing coy and won’t tell me what really happened on Terror Island that night.”
Nick sighed. “Maggie Wentworth’s dead.”
Mesenburg and Donna gasped at the news.
“When did it happen? I didn’t hear a thing about it on the news,” Frank asked.
“She died yesterday, and her murder is directly connected to my investigation.”
Donna’s eyes bulged. “Murder?”
“Murder. Whoever’s behind the Final Scream debacle is indirectly responsible for her murder,” Nick replied without mentioning her exact cause of death. “You both might know something—a small detail—that will help me catch her murderer.”
Frank’s face was granite resolve. “We’ll do everything we can to assist you.”
“What exactly was Noah working on here before he left for Terror Island?”
Donna stiffened. “That information is strictly classified.”
“I’m sure it is, but it’s information that might point out Maggie’s murderer,” Nick argued.
Mesenburg cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. Donna’s right. The project is classified.”
Nick tipped his chair back on two legs. “You seem like nice people, so I hate to play government hardball with you, but if you don’t cooperate with me, I’ll be forced to contact President Hanover and have him order a federal search warrant for your facilities.” Nick paused to let his threat sink in. “And considering the size of your institute, I’d guess it would take my people quite a long time to hunt for the information I need in your hard files and computer files. Maybe even a week or two. You and your employees would have to vacate the facility until we’re finished with our search.”
Mesenburg instantly understood Nick’s inference—missed deadlines. His determination wilted.
“Is that a threat?” Donna huffed.
“It’s more than a threat, Donna. It’s reality,” Nick replied calmly.
Frank stared directly at Nick. “All right, you win. We’ll cooperate. I’ll tell you about Noah’s project before he left for Terror Island, but you won’t believe me.”
Nick propped an elbow on the table as the chair landed on all four legs. “I’ve experienced a lot of weird phenomena in my line of work, so fire away.”
He folded his hands. “Last summer, one of our South Pacific research vessels netted an extraordinary carcass—a partially eaten, unidentifiable land creature. It was larger than a rhinoceros and nothing we or anyone else had ever seen before. I stress the word ever. We told the ship’s scientists to freeze the extraordinary corpse and return it here for examination. I appointed Noah as team leader to identify the animal’s DNA.”
“So what did he find out?” Nick pressed.
“After a thorough battery of genetic tests, Noah and his team concluded the animal was extraterrestrial. Its DNA strand was utterly foreign to all life on Earth.”
“And yet your South Pacific research team found the carcass on Earth,” Nick reminded him.
“We’re quite aware of that, Nick. That’s the enigma we haven’t solved.”
“Let me get this straight. Once Noah reported his results, you figured there might be other living specimens in the South Pacific, and Noah could search for them on and around Terror Island. Am I right?”
“Yes, but we realized it was a monumental undertaking, considering the scope of such a search. It was akin to finding a needle in a haystack the size of Texas. There are thousands of islands out there, and most of them are uninhabited,” Mesenburg explained.
Nick glanced at Donna. “So tell me, was Sue Wright involved with Noah’s project?”
“No.” Donna wriggled uncomfortably in her chair. “But, she, uh, suggested that we send Noah to Terror Island to search for a living extraterrestrial.”
Nick was astounded. “It was her idea? How’d she learn what her son was working on? I thought his project was classified.”
“We have no idea how she found out about it,” Donna said stiffly. “Maybe Noah told her.”
Mesenburg cleared another frog from his throat. “I didn’t know whose idea it was to send Noah out to Terror Island, but I wholly supported it. I even convinced Maggie Wentworth to accept Noah as a contestant. He wasn’t aware of my meddling.”
“So you changed your mind and decided to hunt for that haystack needle after all,” Nick said.
Frank squirmed in his chair. “Trust me, I knew it was a longshot, but we were desperate. If Noah didn’t locate any extraterrestrials on Terror Island, then he was to break away from the other contestants and search the nearby islands. So as you can see, Noah wasn’t a bonafide contestant. He was a plant with an ulterior motive, but in all honesty, Noah was an eager participant. He claimed he preferred exploring those islands to sitting around La Jolla dreaming about it.”
That was news to Nick. Noah was usually the last person he would categorize as a man of action. “Did Noah know who came up with the idea?”
“No,” Donna replied emphatically. “He was never told, so he concluded Frank was responsible for it.”
Nick massaged his cheeks. Something didn’t add up. No one at Scripps knew how Sue Wright got her information on Noah’s project, but did anyone question why she got that information? The ominous thought lingered in his mind.
Mesenburg drummed his fingertips on the tabletop. “The promotional people at Oracle came up with the name Terror Island, but that’s not the island’s true name.”
Nick was fascinated. “Really? What is it?”
“Kepolo Island.”
Nick frowned. “Forgive me; I’m not up on my Polynesian. What does that mean?”
Mesenburg unfolded his hands. “The words translate to Devil Island in English. From what I learned from the local pilots and charter captains we contacted, none of them would go near the place to pick up any living extraterrestrials Noah might find. They claimed the island was haunted by man-eating monsters. That information served to reinforce my decision to send Noah there … in the name of science, of course.”
“Of course,” Nick said absently as he pondered the island’s evil reputation. “Did it ever cross your mind why Oracle decided on such a dangerous place for their reality show’s location? The insurance on the cast, crew, and equipment had to have been astronomical.”
“You know, I was so mesmerized by the possibility of capturing another extraterrestrial animal that I never associated the danger with the television network’s chosen site,” Frank said ruefully.
But he disregarded Mesenburg’s pathetic response. He imagined Noah roaming the treacherous South Pacific island and fighting off alien life forms.
Kepolo Island.
Nick wanted to punch someone. A sedate city kid trying to survive in a hostile environment. Noah’s chances of staying alive were slim, and his mother knew it.
Chalk up another peculiar clue Nick couldn’t make heads or tails of.
Why would Noah’s mother ship him off to a place called Devil Island?
It was analogous to a pirate captain forcing his son to walk the plank.
In shark infested waters.
30
Although Noah Wright and his cousin Nick weren’t blood relatives, they shared one mystical ability—an uncanny sixth sense.
Thudding footfalls moved slowly down one step at a time toward the lower deck. The noise resembled a zombie’s tread,
but Noah doubted the living dead shot the harpoon through Josh.
Noah looked around the corner of the stairwell to confirm his suspicion. He jerked his head back. His sixth sense was on the money—the intruder wasn’t a zombie. It was something much worse. The lumbering footfalls belonged to another green and flowery Plantman with a harpoon sticking clear through him.
Noah rushed back to the medical supply room and opened the back closet door. He was in luck for a change. The gun rack inside was fully stocked with reconditioned Colt M-16s and Barrett REC7s. The neighboring gray steel shelf unit cabinet was stacked high with ammunition boxes. It certainly appeared like someone on the Final Scream production staff was expecting trouble on the island. Did that person know everyone associated with the television show would be massacred? What was so valuable on the island that he willingly sacrificed the entire cast and crew? Gold? Pirate treasure? He and Reese hadn’t seen anything approximating treasure during their struggles to stay alive.
The Final Scream—Terror Island challenge was a fatal scam from the get-go.
Suddenly, a more feasible supposition hit him like a roundhouse punch. What if there wasn’t any treasure? No gold? What else was rare and valuable on the island? The carnivorous plants and plant people and odd beasts. Scripps had sent him here to search for another E.V.A.N., and he found himself surrounded by them. Not E.V.A.N.s exactly, but definitely otherworldly species. Was Oracle searching for alien life forms like Scripps? It was possible, but how did they know such creatures existed in the first place?
There was only one answer.
Oracle or one of its employees had been a party to E.V.A.N.’s kidnapping.
But who tipped Oracle off? The entire Scripps operation was top secret until … the NSA and the Pentagon became involved. Did they steal the alien creature? Were they and Oracle responsible for the human carnage on Terror Island?
Noah scowled at the automatic weapons.
Final Scream Page 14