“Wait, what is the third marker for?” Pete asked.
Ellenshaw smiled. “The island at the southern tip of the Marianas was owned by a very wealthy family from Norway—the Heirthalls.”
“You’re saying that the people we are seeking—or at the very least, their ancestor—frequented this area?” Pete asked, taking off his glasses.
“No, what I’m saying is that this is more than likely their lair—or to be more precise, what used to be their lair. In addition, you may ask how could a vessel such as this ply the waters in the eighteen-sixties, and not be spied more frequently. It couldn’t have,” he answered for them, “at least not in the crowded oceans near industrialized nations. It would have to have been based in a region where there was virtually no water traffic, and what better place than the Marianas?”
“Doc, I think you may have something. It’s gut instinct, but everything you’ve said makes sense … in your always strange points of fact. The evidence, at least, says we may have a starting point.”
Ellenshaw looked at Colonel Collins, and with his eyes and a dip of his chin thanked him for supporting his theory.
“Okay, good work, Charlie, we’ll run with what you have. Now let’s see what Batman and Robin can do with Europa and your new information.”
As the department heads left, Collins stayed behind. He looked from Ellenshaw to the tired-looking Golding.
“Are you resting, Pete?” Jack asked, watching the man’s eyes, which were a nice light blue when not covered by glasses.
“No … but I will.”
“You know who the saboteur is, don’t you, Pete?” Jack asked. Ellenshaw stopped gathering his paperwork and watched the exchange. As he did he pulled a printout from his notes and waited.
Golding bit his lip, turned to look down at his own pile of notes and briefing materials, then slowly started to gather them up.
“Yes, I believe I do. I wanted more evidence, because what I have is circumstantial at best.”
“Pete, all they had was circumstantial evidence on Ted Bundy, but they still knew who he was and what he did,” Jack said. “Whoever it is cannot be free to roam the complex. That person is responsible for the death of our people, and the kidnapping of our friends.”
Pete meekly tossed the papers back down onto the table and turned his back on Collins and Ellenshaw.
“Who, Doc?” Jack persisted, almost afraid to hear his answer.
“The complex at least, I believe, is safe for right now. The person I suspect is no longer here.”
Collins closed his eyes, wanting not to see Pete’s mouth move when he spoke the words.
“It was Virginia, damn her soul, Virginia Pollock, who sabotaged the vaults and tried to kill Europa when she let those animals into our home.”
Collins was stunned. The air in the conference room almost became unbearable to breathe as each man took the information, allowing it to sink in and corrupt all good thoughts.
Jack’s mind refused to bridge the name to the act of cold-blooded murder.
“During both failures of Europa, Virginia was the only person online. Professor Ellenshaw confirmed my suspicions when he mentioned the name Heirthall. At the same time Virginia sabotaged Europa, she was tasking the computer on several queries.”
“I still don’t believe it,” Jack said as he looked at the computer login times.
“I was hesitant to bring this up, because in a court of law it would be thrown out as guilt by association,” Ellenshaw said as he removed his own glasses and rubbed his eyes. “That and the fact I really like Dr. Pollock. She’s a dear friend.”
“Charlie, please,” Pete said looking at the cryptozoologist.
“I ran the name through Europa’s database, looking for any correlation between the name Heirthall and any person working within the complex, just to be thorough.” He tossed a printout and Jack picked it up. “That is the list of the MIT graduating class of nineteen eighty-one.”
Jack looked down the list and saw the names he was looking for—Alexandria Heirthall, and far below that, Virginia Pollock.
There was nothing left to say.
LEVIATHAN, 100 MILES OFF
THE COAST OF NEWFOUNDLAND
Niles, Sarah, Alice, Lee, Farbeaux, and Virginia were shown into the dining salon shortly after noon. They had taken an elevator and an escalator to get there, and still had not seen one quarter of the giant vessel.
As they stepped into the captain’s dining salon, they were amazed at the artwork once again. There were originals from Picasso, Rembrandt, and even Remington was represented with an unknown original—not about the Old West, but of sailing men in the 1800s.
The long table was set with china that was embossed with the ship’s logo, the now-familiar ∼L∼, and the silverware at each setting was sixteenth-century. It was Farbeaux who went directly to the heart of things. He picked up one of the four wine bottles sitting at the end of the table where he assumed the captain would normally sit, as this was the only high-backed chair at the white linen covered table. He examined the old and peeling white label on the bottle.
“Sauternes from Château d’Yquem, seventeen eighty-seven,” he said, almost turning white. He placed the bottle down most gently.
“What is it, Colonel?” Sarah asked as she looked from Henri to the four bottles of wine.
“Sarah, my young dear, these bottles of wine, well … to put it mildly, they should be in one of your Event vaults. Sauternes from Château d’Yquem seventeen eighty-seven—in two thousand six, a single bottle of this wine was auctioned for ninety-seven thousand of your American dollars. There was thought to be no more than two in existence, and here we are staring at four of them, to be a beverage served at lunch.”
“Never cared for wine all that much,” Lee said as he used his cane to limp toward the table.
“Dear Senator Lee, let me put this in a perspective you may be able to appreciate. The grapes in these bottles were picked the same year that George Washington became your first president.”
“Well, give it to him; don’t care for wine.”
The salon door opened at the far end, and the same blond-haired man they had seen in the operation center entered and then gently closed the two large hatches. He was dressed in a navy blue jacket and tie. The first officer of Leviathan smiled and stepped up to the Event staff.
“Good afternoon,” he said, reaching Farbeaux first. “I am First Officer James Grady Samuels, formerly of Her Majesty’s Royal Navy.”
Farbeaux looked at the man with the soft English accent, and then down at his outstretched hand. The Frenchman finally shook hands.
“Colonel Henri Farbeaux, I believe, formerly of the French Army?” Samuels asked.
“Yes,” the Frenchman answered. “This is Lieutenant Sarah McIntire,” he said, placing a hand at the small of Sarah’s back and allowing her to shake the officer’s hand.
“I am well aware of Ms. McIntire and her credentials. Your efforts with the incident in Arizona two years ago, and then again last year in Okinawa, were well noted by our captain.”
Sarah said nothing as she stepped out of the way.
The well-mannered officer stepped forward and smiled at Alice.
“Leviathan is indeed graced by your presence, Mrs. Hamilton. I have heard and read so much about you, it feels as though I know you,” he said, taking her hand and kissing it. Then he smiled again and moved to Lee. “Senator Garrison Lee, I won’t even begin to flatter a man of such deeds as yourself, for then we may never eat our lunch. Senator, war hero, OSS general, Event Group director, it is an honor—”
“Don’t bother, son. I was a witness to your orders in your operations room. You’ll excuse me if I refrain from shaking the hand of a murderer.” Lee looked from the first officer’s outstretched hand to his eyes, and then stepped away.
Samuels closed his hand and looked away for a moment, but he didn’t answer Lee’s accusation. He did, however, approach Virginia with renewed enthusiasm
.
“Dr. Virginia Pollock, inventor of the saltwater conversion module during your time at General Dynamics Electric Boat Division. It is an honor, ma’am.”
“Excuse me—Mr. Samuels, is it? But I think I’m of the same opinion as the senator. I find you and what you’re doing very distasteful. You have taken the cause of ecology to an all-time low.”
The man truly looked taken back as he turned and found Niles Compton.
“Director Compton, although you must be of the same opinion as your assistant director and former mentor, I would still like to thank you for being aboard. To answer the seriousness of the charges leveled against my captain and her crew, you must understand we consider ourselves at war, and believe we have conducted ourselves accordingly. All declarations have been made in advance. There is no murder here, other than that already perpetrated by the countries of the world against the very planet on which they live.”
Niles pursed his lips and then nodded, but said nothing. He saw a slight hesitation in the first officer’s words—it was as if he had to fight to get the speech out of his mouth.
“Then you’re now going to enlighten us as to why my people were killed and we ourselves kidnapped from our complex?” Niles asked.
“The captain will answer your questions. For now, please, would you all take a seat; your host will join us shortly. The captain decided it would have shown a lack of naval etiquette to have you eat lunch in your staterooms,” he said, just as a hidden speaker in the room sounded.
“Attention to orders from the office of the captain. We have received confirmation that the corrective measures taken in the southern Gulf of Mexico and the North Sea have been confirmed as successful. However, there has been significant loss of life. The captain has ordered a prayer service for the lives lost at twenty hundred hours in the chapel. A representative of each of the boat’s divisions is mandatory. Thank you.”
The room was quiet as the first officer silently gestured the group to their seats.
Lee was about to say something when Alice shook her head slowly, telling him to stay the insult or accusation brimming to get out.
The door opened and stewards entered, starting to pouring wine and fill glasses of water. Samuels nodded his head as he placed a napkin in his lap at the opposite end of the table from the empty captain’s chair. He waited.
Before the Event personnel knew what was happening, two men entered the room, looked them over and then opened the double compartment hatches wide. As they watched, a dark figure, dressed in shiny navy blue pants and navy blue long-sleeved turtleneck blouse covered in the same color jacket with gold braid, stepped into the salon.
Niles stood as he saw the captain of Leviathan for the first time, and needless to say, he was speechless.
The woman was tall and stunning. Her jet-black hair flowed over her left ear. Her eyes were a brilliant deep blue, and they looked at each guest before she continued into the room, stopping just to the left of her high-backed chair at the head of the long table.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the Event Group, may I present Captain Alexandria Olivia Heirthall.”
The tall woman half-bowed, her blue clothing shimmering in the lighting of the salon as she looked once more at each of her guests in turn. Then for the first time, she smiled.
“I would like to welcome you aboard my vessel Leviathan,” she said softly as she nodded her head. As she straightened, one of the large men that had accompanied her pulled out her chair, and she sat slowly and deliberately, taking the embossed linen napkin and placing it in her lap as she did.
“I must say, your vessel is a marvel to behold, at least the sections we have seen of her,” Niles said as he sipped from a glass of water.
The captain closed her eyes and nodded once in Niles’s direction.
She raised her glass of white wine. “Ladies and gentlemen—to the earth, and its many varying and wonderful species.”
Niles looked from Captain Heirthall to his own people, then shook his head. Only Farbeaux took his glass and toasted.
“By all means—I am not passing up the chance to drink this marvelous wine.”
Alexandria Heirthall took a small sip of her wine as her mesmerizing blue eyes looked at Henri Farbeaux.
“Colonel, you are impressed with the wine?” she asked, setting her glass down and avoiding any indication she took offense at the slight from Compton and the others.
“Yes, but I am more surprised it has not turned to vinegar.”
“Ah, but it was found in an environment that would not allow that to occur.”
“Where would that be, Captain?” Sarah asked, smelling her own glass of wine.
“Two and a half miles down in the Atlantic ocean, Lieutenant McIntire; in the master chef’s wine vault onboard the RMS Titanic. It wasn’t in use, and we were in the area a few years ago, so to speak, so we rescued them from the depths. I normally do not grave rob, but it would have been almost criminal to leave such a splendid wine.”
The doors opened once more and the stewards brought in salads, placing them in front of each person.
“I think you’ll enjoy the vegetables. They are grown onboard Leviathan in our hydroponics greenhouse, which you’ll see later on your tour. They were actually grown in a twenty-four-hour time frame.”
“Genetics?” Niles asked, looking at his plate.
“No, Dr. Compton, small-voltage electricity and fertilizer made from coral, all from the sea—simple, really.”
They all began to eat their salads. Niles watched the captain, who made no move to touch her own. She did, however, accept something from the head steward, and then swallowed it with a sip of her water.
“Captain, I have noticed that when your vessel accelerates, there is very little vibration and absolutely no sound from your power plant. May I ask what power source you utilize?” Farbeaux asked.
“Of course; we wish to be as transparent as possible, Colonel.” She was now looking directly at Virginia as she answered the question. She held the gaze for the longest time, and Virginia never once looked away. “We want you all to know whatever it is you wish to know. Leviathan uses nuclear power, the same as any submarine in service to the major powers of the world. Our system of propulsion is thermal-dynamic drive, or TDD. We utilize superheated water from our reactor core and run it through a series of pumps, mixing it with hydrogen and a substance not unlike baking soda, thus creating steam drive that is environmentally friendly and is quite substantial in providing propulsion for Leviathan.”
“Captain, may I ask a question?” Niles said, placing his salad fork on his plate and looking at Farbeaux.
Only a small dip of her elegant chin was the answer.
“How many did you kill in cold blood this morning? I must tell you, at least before my friend and mentor Senator Lee does, that your actions seem quite insane.”
To his left, Niles felt the eyes of the first officer on him. The man touched at the corners of his mouth with his napkin and then slapped it into his lap.
The captain smiled and shook her head lightly at Samuels.
“ ‘Cold blood.’ To me that has always been an interesting catchphrase, Dr. Compton, one used by men who have no idea what justice sometimes truly is. Yes, when you plan to kill for no other reason than the want of killing, indeed, that is in cold blood. However, this morning’s bloodshed was an act of hot blood, justified in all respects to even the basest laws of civilized man. I sincerely wish that is the last of it that is spilled in this cause, but I fear it will be not be.”
“The demands that you are asking of the world, while justified in many ways, are impossible to meet. Nations will collapse and people will starve,” Lee said, pushing his salad away as if stating he would have nothing from this woman.
“To you, this very vessel is an impossibility of science—is it not? To you, many things seem that way, but it just isn’t so.”
“Without alternative fuels in place, it is. Without more research, it is,�
� Niles said, staring straight at the woman.
The captain flinched as if she wanted to react with harshness, but instead she slowly dipped her head and calmed herself. She then looked up, opened her eyes, and smiled, but all could see she was straining to argue.
“My family has tried in vain to get the benefits of our research and experiments to those that would use them wisely, only to see our go-betweens ridiculed, even murdered, and some, I’m sorry to say, bought off by the commercial corporations representing the oil concerns of the world. The world today is capable of running totally without the need of petroleum. I can supply the world with wind power, solar power, nitrogen, clean-coal technology, and clean nuclear power. It’s all there for the asking.”
“Then why—” Niles started to ask, but Heirthall continued as if he weren’t there.
“But alas, I am sorry to say I have nothing magical that I can provide to stop the death of many magnificent species in the sea. Mankind has never realized that the oceans and humanity are symbiotic entities.” She placed her fingertips together, and then intertwined them. “The only solution is time, Doctor, time. The sea needs time to heal itself, and my research has shown it can indeed heal itself. However, petroleum-based products are not only ruining life upon the land and air, they are destroying life in my seas. Acid rain, oil spills, and the deliberate dumping of chemical waste have joined together to do untold damage to the earth and its oceans.”
Niles started to ask a question, but was interrupted by the stewards as they brought in the main course.
“I hope you enjoy your entrée. It’s black sea bass stuffed with red artichoke hearts—again, from our own gardens.”
Niles looked at the fabulously designed dish, and then looked at the captain as if she were avoiding his questioning, which he knew she was not doing. She was actually inviting them.
Heirthall waved the attending steward to remove her lunch. Then she placed her elegant hands just under her chin and looked at Sarah, seemingly for study. Sarah returned the look as she took a forkful of sea bass.
Leviathan: An Event Group Thriller Page 20