“The weapons link might connect them all together.”
“How so?”
“Chrysalis also owns a company called Cryzo Ventures, LTD.”
“As in cryptozoology?”
“Correct.”
Nick’s interest rose but didn’t get out of hand. He had been disappointed too many times on this case to get excited. “So what does Cryzo Ventures do?”
“Search the planet for cryptids.”
He shook his head. “Sounds ridiculous to me.”
“It is not ridiculous. Remember E.V.A.N. and the clone’s dead DNA parent? Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. Maybe other cryptid sightings throughout the centuries were actually extraterrestrial,” Geronimo chastised him.
“Okay, point taken. So how do cryptids fit into the Terror Island debacle?”
“Logically, the criminals you’re looking for might be searching there for specimens.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Why would they call attention to the place they’re searching?” he asked skeptically.
“Like you and your friends hypothesized earlier, the people responsible for the Final Scream communications disruption, and presumably dozens of murders, must have had a reason to target Terror Island in the first place. And since Chrysalis has a big advanced weapons contract on the front burner, they are most likely attempting to steal the aliens’ technology. They might have used the Final Scream folks as bait to lure the aliens out of hiding. Once that happened, the Chrysalis people could easily track them to their home—Earth home, that is.”
“I don’t entirely buy your theory, Geronimo. I think they’re after bigger game. Something valuable on Terror Island that is now destroyed by the volcano.”
“Who or what did you believe started a volcano eruption in a non-volcanic mountain?”
Nick grinned. “I … never thought of it that way.”
“Humans don’t have the technology to trigger a volcanic eruption.”
“So you’re telling me aliens somehow caused that volcanic eruption?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you, Nick.”
“So those winged creatures that flew Noah out of harm’s way are the exposed aliens?”
“Perhaps. Perhaps there are other species lurking beneath the dormant volcano on Riai Island.”
“More intelligent beings?”
“Precisely. Wait! I’m picking up an explosion and fire you will be interested in.”
The screen video flipped to a blazing fire in the tropics.
“Where’s the fire?” Nick demanded.
“On the Hawaiian Island of Kauai,” Geronimo replied.
“So why should I be interested in this?”
“Because I just learned from hacking the FBI computer files that this location is owned by the Chrysalis International Corporation.”
Nick arched his brows. “Really? What did they use the property for?”
“According to the FBI, the place was their secret Genetic Bio-engineering Lab, overseen by a scientist named Dr. Robert Wilton. Furthermore, unsubstantiated rumors suggest E.V.A.N. was housed there, after it was stolen from Scripps.”
“I guess we’ll never know about that. It looks like the fire wiped out the whole facility.” Nick brightened. “Maybe we can find out who sabotaged the lab by spying on the local military satellite feeds.”
“I tried, but the military reports state the satellite orbiting above Hawaii went on the fritz approximately twenty minutes before the explosion and went back online twenty minutes after the explosion. The official explanation was sun spot interference.”
Nick leaped up and paced the bedroom. “Sunspots? Do our security agencies really believe that bullshit?”
“No. I believe advanced technology incapacitated the satellite’s operations while the saboteurs entered and left the lab. Do you have a more viable hypothesis?” Geronimo pressed.
Nick shifted on the edge of the king-sized bed. “You’re not suggesting aliens destroyed the lab, are you?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I know someone who might know the saboteurs’ identities.”
“Who?”
“Ulrich Strasser, the CEO of the Chrysalis Corporation.”
“You plan to visit him?”
“Sure. Let’s do it now.”
“I will locate him before you teleport, but I must caution you. This man is ruthless. Your murder would not even dent his conscience.”
Nick smirked. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
50
An outraged Ulrich Strasser paced back and forth inside the unoccupied Chrysalis Corporation hangar at its private airport outside San Diego. His sweat-stained armpits and exposed shoulder holster were two sound reasons to avoid the executive. Wind gusts created dust microbursts on the hot tarmac outside the hangar threshold, but none of the lung-choking particles ventured inside. An hour ago, he received word that the Genetic Bio-engineering Lab on Kauai had mysteriously exploded into flames and was a total loss. His lips curled into a vicious scowl. Whoever was responsible for this devastation would pay with their lives.
His aimless walking was interrupted when a blond man carrying a laptop computer entered through the back door and approached him.
Strasser stopped and glared at the intruder. “You’re trespassing. Get out!” he demanded brusquely. He was in no mood to deal with salesmen today.
The man continued forward until he stood a few feet from Strasser. He placed the laptop at his side. “My name’s Nick Bellamy. Feel free to call the cops if you want, but you will listen to what I have to say.”
Strasser maintained icy eye contact, but inside he was emotionally shaken. Annoyed. No wonder he hadn’t heard from Benjamin. Bellamy must have killed him.
Strasser faked a disinterested look. “Are you a Chrysalis employee? I can’t know you all by name, you know?” he lied.
Nick’s new thought absorption ability washed over the CEO, stripping away his deepest secrets like peeling away dead skin. “No, but I’m sure the hit man you paid to plant a bomb under my car at Scripps knew who I was,” he retorted.
Despite his determination to stay noncommittal, Strasser’s pinched gaze betrayed his contempt for Nick. “I’m afraid you have me confused with somebody else. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a flight to catch.”
“To Kauai, maybe? Let me save you the trip. Your Genetic Bio-engineering Lab is a burned out shell, and if the Pentagon’s precious alien specimen, E.V.A.N., was charbroiled to a crispy critter inside, then all you can accomplish there is to get a tan.”
Strasser stepped back, drew his 9mm Smith and Wesson, and pointed it at Nick’s face. “This is for Richard,” he growled.
Nick remained cool. “That’s a strange name for the Oriental hit man who tried to murder me during my flight to Columbus.”
Strasser appeared confused. “Oriental?”
“Yeah—Chinese. Was he your pro assassin?”
“Richard was not Chinese.”
Nick sniggered and snapped his fingers. “No, of course he wasn’t. Your man taped a bomb under my rental car, but it didn’t go off.”
Strasser stood speechless, so Nick went on. “I sniffed out the bomb and disarmed it before it exploded, but I wasn’t the one who murdered your hit man, Benjamin. In fact, I never even saw him. The credit for his elimination belongs to the Chinese assassin before he boarded my plane in San Diego. He was sent by a sorcerer to finish Richard and me.”
Sorcerer? Impossible. Wasn’t it? A single name came to Strasser’s mind—the Superior. She was the only person who knew he sent Benjamin to kill Bellamy. But why would she sic her own hired assassin on Benjamin? “It doesn’t really matter who killed Richard, Bellamy, because you’re still a thorn in my side.”
“Am I the one preventing you from raking in millions, maybe billions of dollars on the Final Scream operation solely because I killed the Oriental and Donna Lake?”
Strasser’s grip on the gun faltered. Bellamy knew way t
oo much about Final Scream. The executive felt the operation collapsing around him. “You killed Donna?”
Nick shrugged casually. “Guilty as charged.”
His gun hand started trembling. “How much do you know about our operation?”
“Everything you know.”
“That’s impossible!”
Nick cradled his chin with his free hand. “The Pentagon appointed Jonathan Foster and his rogue NSA agents to protect their investment in you and the late Margaret Wentworth. With Maggie gone, you’re the one who has to bring home the goods or die.”
Strasser laughed harshly. “So what are those goods you’re referring to?”
“Alien weaponry. Does that ring a bell?”
“Fuck you!” He pulled the trigger and emptied the clip into Nick, but not one bullet hit home.
Nick employed his Mortal Eclipse defense maneuver, splitting his physical being between Earth and its parallel dimension of Kundze, Gabriella’s parents’ original home. Strasser’s bullets sliced through his Earthly holographic phantom presence without wounding his corporal body.
Once the CEO’s gun was empty, Nick rematerialized on Earth, seized Strasser’s gun, and tossed it out of the hangar onto the steamy, sun-drenched tarmac. His other hand shot out and roughly grabbed Strasser’s shirt collar.
“How did you…” Strasser squeaked.
“Shut up and listen!” Nick growled. “You’re going to tell me who’s calling the shots for your operation, or I’m going to wring your neck like a chicken,” Nick threatened. “I know you aren’t the ringleader.”
“Okay, okay! Loosen your grip. You’re choking me!”
“You’ll never breathe again if you lie to me.” Nick slightly lessened his grip. “Now start talking.”
“I’ve never met her, but she identifies herself as the…”
Strasser’s breathing stopped, and his complexion reddened before rapidly becoming dark blue. Nick released his grip and lowered the thrashing, suffocating man to the oil-stained concrete floor. It looked like the homicidal sorcerer was at it again.
“Quick! Give me the person’s name!” Nick hissed into Strasser’s ear.
The executive’s struggling slackened as he strained to form words with his quivering lips. “The Superior,” he whispered to Nick.
Those proved to be his final words. His lifeless head lolled to the side in Nick’s arms, and Nick gently lowered it to the hangar floor. He walked out the back door into the rear parking area. Strasser’s Cadillac was the only vehicle there.
Nick’s assumption back in Duneden was correct. The Leader of the Final Scream operation was spying on him, but Nick never suspected the undercover person was a woman. His plan to ditch his friends at the Lamplighter obviously worked to perfection, except there was one unexpected casualty: Strasser. In Nick’s absence, Gabriella, Neo, and Crow hopefully executed their part of his plan without interference.
Although he wasn’t any closer to discovering his enemy’s name than he was when he teleported here, he did learn the leader was a woman. And he witnessed her considerable magical muscle twice. Was she more powerful than the aliens she sought? he wondered.
Speaking of aliens, Nick fretted about entrusting his nephew’s life to a flock of winged aliens. Was Noah their prisoner … or friend?
Nick planned to find out soon. Very soon.
51
Nick paid Kauai’s dense rainforest a visit within shouting distance of the secret Chrysalis Genetic Bio-engineering Lab. Former lab. The stifling humidity seized his breath and sucked the sweat from his pores. He conjured a frosty bottle of water and quaffed it like there was no tomorrow. He invoked another vision, and the plastic bottle was on its way to the local island landfill. An assortment of hidden birds hollered, whistled, and sang, producing a cacophony that nearly smothered the distant shouts and equipment rumbling at the destroyed lab.
He wiped his damp face and hiked the short distance to the active site. The overhead canopy of tree leaves filtered out most of the sweltering sunlight as he walked out of the jungle and into the large cleared area. Two FBI agents holding automatic rifles ordered Nick to halt. He raised his hands and requested that one of them remove his FBI identification from his shirt pocket. They complied, and after scrutinizing the special FBI operative picture ID commissioned by the president of the United States, the guard returned it to Nick and asked him to lower his arms. Earlier, Nick and Geronimo fabricated a plausible story in back of the Chrysalis hangar before he teleported to Kauai. “The president assigned me the task of inspecting this site for signs of toxic chemicals that might ultimately poison the island’s water supply. The president’s immediate concern is the population in Poipu, Princeville, and Kapaa.”
The guards’ FBI field supervisor arrived, and Nick reiterated his fictional account. The supervisor led Nick to an open van filled with spelunking supplies and showed Nick how to slip into a disposable, yellow hazmat biohazard suit that would protect him from eighty kinds of toxic chemicals. The hooded mask was equipped with a reusable, self-contained breathing apparatus. Nick hid Crow’s laptop between two unopened supply cartons before waddling to the crater.
The lava tube was strung with high intensity lights, making it easy for Nick to climb down the ladders into the blackened crater. Upon reaching the bottom level, Nick checked out the crumpled, partially melted elevator and wondered what kind of fire would soften steel like that. He moved on without an answer, dodging piles of scorched rubble and blackened skeletons. A team of FBI CSI agents wore matching biohazard outfits while probing the wreckage for clues, too.
Several offices built into the sides of gigantic lava tube were reduced to ashen barriers, and the fire had consumed their furnishings and equipment beyond recognition or retrieval. There were no signs of offices in the center of the tube. Nick spent a solid half-hour searching for clues as to what happened in the bio-lab, but he rolled snake-eyes.
He was about to throw in the towel before he wandered into the lowest cavernous area. He directed his flashlight over an enormous armored cage and its open warped and steaming door. Was the area beyond the door big enough to house E.V.A.N.?
Nick looked into the smoldering enclosure, but the vast space was vacant. No charred skeleton. No large pile of ash. He stepped back and attempted to calm his spiking heartbeat. If that space was E.V.A.N.’s prison before the explosion, the beast was one big extraterrestrial!
But the hypothesis presented major problems. If the cage contained E.V.A.N., then who was crazy enough to let it out? And who controlled it once it left its prison?
That last vexing question steered his reasoning to the next enigmas. Why did the saboteurs destroy the lab in the first place? To cover the theft of E.V.A.N.? Then who stole E.V.A.N. this time? Certainly not the Pentagon traitors. The Chrysalis lab was busy creating genetically altered, superior biological freaks scarier than the Frankenstein monster. Strasser wouldn’t destroy the facility because it was profitable research. Would the Superior raze it? Nick doubted it. She would be financially set for life if she maintained the status quo. So that left Nick’s suspect list blank.
“Hey, you!” One of the CSI workers motioned for Nick to join him.
Once Nick arrived, the CSI agent handed him a large device.
“What’s this?” Nick asked. He had never seen anything like it before.
“We’ve been studying the danged thing for a half-hour, and all we came up with is that it’s some kind of sophisticated detonator. It’s not American, so it might have been developed by terrorists.”
“It’s pretty sophisticated for your average terrorist to be toting around,” Nick said.
One of the other agents nodded. “That’s what we were thinking, too. Hell, we’ve worked crime scenes with every detonator known to man. But this…”
After a closer inspection of the strange markings, Nick had a pretty good idea where the device came from. “Doesn’t look like anything I’ve ever seen, either. In fact, if I had to
guess, I’d say it was…”
The four men looked at each other. The first one finally spoke up.
“Alien?” he ventured.
“Yeah. I know it sounds Looney Toons, but I don’t have another explanation.”
“We checked and rechecked the blast radius and concluded this device isn’t from our world.”
“So we’re with you, man,” one of the agents said quietly.
“Yeah, it’s from outer space, all right,” another agent chimed in.
Nick started pacing. “We know it’s mostly an alien device, but will anyone else buy our theory? If I were you guys, I’d say the detonator is Chinese and put that in your report,” he suggested, not anxious for these men to start a South Pacific alien stampede. The CSI agents muttered their agreement, placed the device on the floor, and began rummaging through the remains for more evidence. Nick quietly moved away and considered the significance of their find. Why would aliens want to kidnap E.V.A.N.? He understood where he had to go next for the answer.
He fervently hoped Gabriella and the others were already there, setting a trap for the Superior, while he covertly rescued Noah.
52
After their prearranged act with Nick at the Lamplighter restaurant, Gabriella, Neo, and Crow picked up their to-go meals and ate them in Gabriella’s kitchen, where they mostly pushed their food around the plates. Each was so deep in thought that food was barely a consideration. They soon quit trying and dumped the majority of their dinners in the garbage.
After clearing the table, they were ready to discuss their phase of Nick’s plan, which ultimately was the most dangerous—trapping the mysterious witch called the Superior. Even Gabriella’s post-dinner ironic quip about Nick’s perpetual promise to take her for a romantic South Pacific trip failed to elicit a snicker.
So Gabriella got down to business and conjured an array of assault weapons. Neo was like a kid in a candy store—he didn’t know which one to choose. Fully automatic M-16s. Handheld M32 MGL Grenade launchers. Heckler and Koch HK45C military pistols.
Final Scream Page 22