And finally, were NSA agents the ones lurking in the jungle and picking off the survivors?
The footfalls ceased, and the hall was filled with whistling wheezes. Noah peeked around the corner at the wounded Plantman. This monster wasn’t twelve feet tall like the previous one, but it was every bit of seven feet. Maybe it was a baby.
Its breathing was labored, and the large, protruding harpoon made it difficult for it to maneuver in tight spaces. The damned demon, though, wasn’t resting outside the command center for its health. It was calculating how to enter.
Noah returned to the closet and lifted a Barrett REC7 from the rack, snapped in a full clip, and stuffed his shorts pockets with extra ammunition. He slowly inhaled and exhaled, calming his nerves.
Once he recharged his confidence, Noah finally stepped from the medical supply room doorway and sprayed the creature’s leafy knees with a continuous discharge from the smoking REC7, reducing the joints to clippings and pollen dust. The legless creature dropped onto its thigh stumps, gazed up at Noah, and snorted. Unfazed by the creature’s attitude, Noah popped in another clip and unleashed an ear-splitting fusillade of bullets into its stumps and lower torso. When the assault rifle was empty again, Plantman teetered and buckled back on the stairs.
Noah’s ears rang, and he barely heard Tony running down the stairs.
“Tony, get back to the main deck NOW before the plant guy captures you or I accidently shoot you!” Noah shouted. His companion didn’t need to be told twice; he raced up the stairs and out of Noah’s line of fire.
Noah reloaded the REC7 and pulled the trigger. The burst decapitated Plantman and then slashed his arms to leafy sticks. The harpooned torso fell back, blocking the stairway. Noah booted the chopped shrubbery aside and climbed through the silvery-blue gun smoke to daylight. Tony’s quivering body was propped against the salon wall out of the mysterious harpooner’s line of sight. His nerves were shot.
“What the hell was that thing down there?” Tony asked in a hoarse, bullfrog croak.
Noah slapped another full magazine into the assault rifle and sat down beside Tony. He checked the water around the dock and boat and then the beach for trouble.
“I call that monster Plantman because it’s made entirely of plants and flowers,” Noah replied. Satisfied they were alone—for now—he continued. “I ran into a much taller one on the other side of the island.”
Tony shivered. “That’s hard to believe. This one was big enough.”
“Yeah.” Noah recalled his previous ideas about Oracle and alien life forms. “Did you or Josh see any men in the jungle who weren’t associated with the show?”
He shivered again. “Yeah, we did.”
“What were they up to?”
“They were stuffing contestant corpses into silver body bags and loading them onto their boat that was docked beside the Oracle rental.”
“I wonder who hired them?”
“You got me. Once the body bags were brought aboard the boat, they were stowed away in large refrigerator units. The whole boat reminded me of a portable morgue.”
“Sick.”
“Tell me about it.”
“What shape were the corpses in?”
“Most were partially eaten and chewed up pretty bad after being attacked by those weird animals.”
“Hmmm.” Noah’s theory needed a little tweaking now.
“What’s the matter?”
He had a good idea why the corpses were being refrigerated so they wouldn’t rot. “I think those men were storing alien animal DNA inside the human corpses.”
“Alien animals? Here?”
“You don’t actually believe the strange animals roaming the island are indigenous to Earth, do you?”
“I … I never thought about it. I just assumed they were indigenous to our planet, because I’m no expert on such things.”
“It looks like Oracle set us up from the beginning. There never was going to be a television show produced here. It was all a ruse to use us as human bait.” Possibly except me, Noah thought. If rogue NSA agents were involved, Foster would have targeted Noah as one of the first to go down. The Scripps scientist was well-versed in the subject of alien DNA and most likely would have guessed what Foster and his men were up to.
“I think that refrigerator boat will return here soon,” Tony added nervously.
Noah perked up. “Why do you think that?”
“Because the cold storage units were completely full. There are still a bunch of body bags stacked up in the Stout Hearts camp.”
“Then we’d better grab our supplies and hit the road,” Noah advised.
“I wish we could, but the harpooner has us pinned down.”
Noah snapped his fingers. “I’ve got an idea!”
“Whatever you’re thinking, remember I can’t swim.”
Noah squeezed his shoulder. “Don’t worry, you won’t have to.”
Tony tapped Noah’s arm before he ducked into the stairwell.
“What’s the matter now?” he asked.
Tony pointed. “There’s a bunch of bubbles and … swirling on the other side of the dock.”
Noah crawled back to Tony in time to see a large scaly green tail emerge from the water and slap the surface. Mermen!
“What in God’s name is that thing?” Tony demanded. “Another frigging alien?”
Noah tucked the assault rifle against his shoulder. “Some old buddies,” he replied facetiously as he made sure his rifle was loaded. “Ever see the old movie Splash?”
“Uh yeah, a long time ago. Why?”
“Because those are mermen and mermaids swimming out there, and they’re hunting.”
“Us?”
“You bet.”
“Does your escape plan take those mermen and mermaids into account?”
Noah scowled. “Not my first draft.”
31
Frank was about to adjourn their meeting, but Nick pressed the president’s shoulder down as he attempted to stand. “Before we say goodbye, I’ve got to see photos of your alien corpse,” Nick stated.
“Before or after we examined it?” Mesenburg asked.
“Both.”
Donna bent, retrieved the laptop computer propped against her chair leg, and passed it across the table to her boss. After Frank finished entering the required security codes, he accessed the alien file and scrolled through numerous classified pictures. He selected two before-and-after close-ups of the carcass and swung the laptop around to Nick.
“There,” he announced, pointing to the screen.
Nick grabbed his smartphone. “Mind if I record the pictures?”
Donna frowned at the idea, but Frank acquiesced. “Just the four. Like we said, this entire file has been classified as top secret by the feds, with only the NSA having access to it. Please don’t share the pictures to anyone except President Hanover.”
The government acronym, NSA, dumped a load of acid into Nick’s stomach when he pictured Jonathon Foster’s sourpuss countenance. “The NSA? Why on Earth are they connected with your alien carcass?”
Frank’s green eyes tore at him like talons. “Uh, I can’t tell you that, I’m afraid. That subject is completely off limits to anyone outside of Scripps.”
“Your refusal wouldn’t have anything to do with Jonathon Foster and his NSA bioterrorism division, would it?”
Frank and Donna’s eyes nearly puffed out of their hollows, but neither spouted a word.
Bingo! Nick cerebrally patted himself on the back for scoring with that question, but he didn’t dig any deeper. It appeared as if Foster had put the fear of God into Nick’s two hosts, and he didn’t want Foster to bully them again if he learned about Mesenburg sharing classified information.
Nick snapped his photographs and planned to email them to Geronimo later when he left the building. He studied the alien animal’s bizarre physical shape and decided the large animal’s piggish snout and whiskery chin made it look like a giant eight-legged
boar. Three curling horns rose from its broad maroon skull, and its three forked tongues ran over its shark-like teeth inside its gaping mouth. But it was the vacant eye sockets above the snout that commanded his wonderment. Four eyes! What alien planet bred beasts with four eyes? And how did they end up on Earth?
Nick slipped his secured smartphone into his suitcoat pocket. “That’s quite an animal,” he stated softly, subtly switching topics from the NSA to the extraordinary creature.
Frank attempted to salvage his earlier friendly demeanor but fell short. He nervously kneaded his hands. “Yes … yes, it is,” he said with a pitiful smile.
Nick needed answers to two other questions before leaving. “Have either of you heard of a straw-like plant that can transform human beings into Wicker people?”
“I beg your pardon?” Donna exclaimed, her expression incredulous.
“A plant that can change someone into a Wicker killing machine,” Nick repeated.
“That sounds like science fiction,” Frank interjected.
“I know it sounds incredible, but I’m not joking. There must be such a plant.”
“I believe you,” Frank said quickly, “and I think I speak for both of us when I say we’ve never heard of such a plant. And if we had, its habitat would be the ocean.”
Nick nodded. That made perfect sense. “I’ve got a feeling the plant might be indigenous to the same island as your alien animal.” His premise seemed logical. Rational.
Frank bent forward. “You know, I’ve often considered the likelihood of other alien life forms coexisting with our eight-legged friend, and it’s nice to listen to someone express the same idea. I only hope we’ve been of equal assistance to your investigation.”
“You have, and I appreciate your time.” As Nick rose and shook their hands, he suddenly remembered Rance’s note. “At the risk of wearing out my welcome, have you ever heard the acronym E.V.A.N?”
Frank swooned and nearly crashed face first on the conference table, but Nick’s supernatural reflexes caught the man’s head inches above the wood surface. Donna filled a glass of water from Mesenburg’s office wet bar and eased it down his throat with small sips. After finishing the glass, he stared glassy-eyed at his guest.
“Yes, we know E.V.A.N., except where to find it now! You see, the E.V.A.N. project was stolen right from under our noses here.” He took out a handkerchief and dabbed the perspiration beading on his forehead. “The hush-hush experiment was NSA requested after Noah and his team positively identified the corpse’s DNA as alien. Foster suggested we inject the alien DNA into a boar embryo to see if that process might yield a beast similar to the corpse we found. Our College Board vetoed the gene splicing experiment on religious grounds, and that’s when the NSA trumped them on behalf of the Pentagon.
“To our surprise, Noah’s experiment was a success, and a single embryo began to propagate at an incredible rate. After the first three days, our maroon alien abomination was the size of my palm.” He opened his trembling hand. “But the cloned animal was stolen before we ever saw its true shape.”
“Obviously, there’s a major leak in Scripps security, because too much classified information is reaching outside interests, possibly your competitors.”
“I’m well aware of our security breaches, but to this point our security team hasn’t been able to pinpoint the mole,” Frank said sadly. “Jonathon Foster is working on it, too.”
Nick rolled his eyes. Foster could well be the mole everyone was seeking and E.V.A.N.’s thief, but Nick kept his unsubstantiated opinions to himself for the time being. “Have the thieves ever asked for a ransom?”
“No. I’m afraid E.V.A.N. has totally vanished, and we can’t report the theft to the authorities because we would bring down the wrath of alumni and God on the College Board.”
“Whoever stole E.V.A.N. must have known your hands were tied. What do the letters E.V.A.N. stand for?”
“Extraterrestrial Virulent Assault Nemesis.”
Nick frowned. “That sounds like a military project.”
Frank buried his face in his hands. “God save us, the creature was designed and bred for the military! You see, the Pentagon was really the one who stepped up to the plate when the College Board nixed the gene splicing, and we were forced to create an eight-legged fighting machine with that name. They also put the NSA in charge of overseeing the research so we couldn’t easily double cross them.”
“I take it the Pentagon is well aware of the E.V.A.N. theft.”
“Oh, yes.” Frank knitted his brows. “Come to think of it, their representatives weren’t that upset by the theft. The first thing they did was to pull their funding for further E.V.A.N. experiments without an explanation.”
Nick nodded. “Now this whole situation is starting to make sense.”
Donna leaned close. “What is?”
“The Pentagon stole their own project and selected another party to complete it.”
“But why would they do that?” Frank hissed.
“Because they understood from the beginning Noah was a scientist, not a warmonger. He wouldn’t create what they wanted—a controllable military monster. So the Pentagon arranges for the experiment’s theft as soon as the genetic splicing proved successful. Then these people put a bug in someone’s ear here at Scripps to have Noah participate as a contestant in Final Scream—Terror Island. You go for the idea and make arrangements, not knowing everyone associated with the show will die. Frank, if I were you, I’d warn the other folks in Noah’s department to watch their backs. The Pentagon might want to erase everyone who worked on the E.V.A.N. experiment.”
“Oh dear!” Donna cried.
“What’s the matter?” Frank demanded.
It took a moment for her to blurt out the words. “If Nick is right, then Sue Wright must’ve been in cahoots with the Pentagon when she shipped her son off to that terrible island to die!”
Neither man responded. They didn’t have to. The evidence against Nick’s aunt was overwhelming.
32
Ulrich Strasser glanced up from the paperwork cluttering his desk when his longtime assistant, Richard Benjamin, knocked and entered without waiting for a response. Benjamin was decked out in his usual attire. Black suit. Gray and black striped tie. Heavily starched white shirt. Spit-polished black leather shoes.
The thirty-year-old assistant was more than a company employee. He moonlighted as Strasser’s enforcer, and he was damned efficient. His kills were labors of love.
Benjamin cleared his throat. “May I speak with you, sir?”
Strasser rocked back in his chair and gathered his hands behind his head. “Certainly, Richard. What’s up?” His viper-like blue eyes never left the man.
“Sir, I have been assured the most recent shipment of frozen alien specimens was delivered to our Kauai lab on schedule. We’re expecting another shipment within six days, depending upon the weather,” he reported. His squinting gray eyes remained fixed. A salt and pepper brush cut, high cheekbones, a stern expression, six-foot stature, and hard body lent a military air to his appearance.
“Good, good. Has Dr. Wilton replaced E.V.A.N.’s armor-plated cage door?”
“Yes, sir. Two days ago.”
“Has Wilton begun experimenting with the new specimens?”
“Our spy informed me Wilton started testing as soon as the alien samples arrived.” Benjamin allowed himself a chuckle. “Your latest visit to our Genetic Bio-engineering Lab put the fear of Satan into the man.”
Strasser pitched forward. “I believe it did, at that,” he said with a trace of a grin that quickly flatlined. “The Superior told me that Nick Bellamy is meeting with Frank Mesenburg over at Scripps as we speak. She wants Bellamy removed.”
“I’ve heard he’s a tough nut to crack.”
Strasser shrugged. “It doesn’t make any difference. If the Superior wants him snuffed, we snuff him. End of discussion.”
“Yes, sir. I know the drill.”
“Go
od, because Bellamy could be big trouble for our venture. He has a rep for meddling.”
“I’ll get right on it.”
Strasser carefully considered the mission. “Don’t do the job here. It’s too close to home. Take him out on the plane or at the Columbus Airport.”
“Yes, sir.” Richard was stationary as a statue. With that, he bowed and left the office.
Once Strasser was alone, he twisted his fingers as he pondered the Superior. He hated taking orders from someone he didn’t know—especially a woman. He flat out didn’t trust her. She could be anywhere. Oracle. Scripps. Cryzo Ventures, LTD. Chrysalis Corporation. The Pentagon. Without knowing her identity, he was vulnerable. Hell, she could put a hit contract out on him if he upset her.
From now on, his primary objective would be to uncover the Superior’s identity and order Richard to eliminate her. He was next in line for the Pentagon’s person in charge, and he would exploit that promotion to the fullest. For himself.
Without the Superior lurking in the shadows, he could reap the lion’s share of the mega profits reaped from the sales of the Chrysalis advanced weaponry—once their team located the alien engineers. He couldn’t care less about Wilton and the secret Genetic Bio-engineering Lab. That operation was a smokescreen for the group’s primary purpose.
Strasser poured himself two fingers of bourbon over his usual three rocks. The liquor crackled as it splashed over the ice. He hoisted the glass to his reflection in the bar mirror.
“To me … and the billions of dollars that’ll be in my offshore bank account soon!” He downed the celebratory drink in one swallow.
33
When Noah stepped down on the lower deck, his feet splashed into ankle deep water. He swore. He scanned the stairwell below the water line and saw a multitude of bullet holes. He glanced down at what was left of the Plantman and cursed it for forcing him to shoot it on the lower deck. Thankfully, the leaks were gradual, which allotted him the time he needed.
He rifled through the three wardrobe closets until he collected enough bulky clothing to execute his plan. He returned to the main deck and deposited his armload of clothes next to Tony. He then went back down and retrieved Reese’s medications and Tony’s box of foodstuffs.
Final Scream Page 15