The Ark tl-1

by Boyd Morrison

“What? That Garrett is a psycho?”

  “No,” Locke said, “I already knew that. And I could tell by his smug expression that he thinks we’re too late. Whatever he has planned, he’s here to kick it off.”

  “It won’t happen with him on the ship.”

  “That’s right. He said he’s leaving before it sails. So we’ve got until the Genesis Dawn leaves port tomorrow morning. If we don’t find out what he’s planning before then, he’s going to get his doomsday scenario.”

  THIRTY-FIVE

  Locke and Dilara took time to eat at the gala. Locke kept one eye on his cabin door five decks up just to make sure no one entered while they were gone. He had been quiet since the conversation with Garrett, considering his next move.

  What was Garrett doing here? If the incident on Rex Hayden’s airplane was related, they could be planning the same thing on this ship. With such an immense vessel, distributing the bioweapon would be much more difficult. He could use the food, which was how the norovirus that continued to regularly sicken passengers was passed along, but the industry had gotten much better at maintaining a safe food supply. Locke looked at the empty plate on his table and immediately discounted that method. Garrett wouldn’t have infected people while he was still on board.

  The water system might be vulnerable, but it would require accessing the central distribution point from the desalination plant. Someone would have to get access to secure areas of the ship. It was a possibility, but risky.

  The easiest method, one which Locke guessed was used on the plane, was an airborne pathogen. That meant finding a central location for inserting it into the ship’s air handling system. But Garrett couldn’t expect any device to be left alone for a significant period of time, not with the rigorous maintenance a new ship would be subject to. He’d need someplace that was guaranteed not to be disturbed…

  The solution hit Locke like a two-by-four. He shot out of his seat.

  “That’s it,” he said.

  “That’s what?” Dilara asked.

  “Garrett. He made a mistake when he told me he wasn’t staying for the cruise. Come on. I need to call Aiden and have him send something to my computer.”

  The music had stopped, signaling that gala was over, and they threaded their way through the thinned crowd toward the elevator.

  On his way back to the room, he called Aiden to have him to send a complete schematic for the ship, particularly the air handling system.

  Locke made a quick sweep of the room to make sure it hadn’t been disturbed, and when he was satisfied, he flipped open his computer. One of the ship’s features was a wireless Internet connection throughout the vessel, so he immediately saw the email from Aiden. In the body of the email was the other piece of information he’d requested. Garrett’s cabin number.

  He called up the schematics. Garrett’s cabin, a sprawling 2500-square-foot suite, was on the highest residential deck at the bow of the ship, just above the bridge. The views from the balcony spanning from one side to the other would be marvelous.

  Then he overlaid Garrett’s cabin with the venting system and saw what he was expecting.

  “I’ll be damned.”

  “What is it?” Dilara asked.

  “Until we got here, I assumed Garrett was taking the cruise since he had a suite. But then he said he was leaving in the morning before the ship sailed. It made me wonder why he would go to the trouble of booking the best cabin on the ship if he was only going to use it for one night. Look at this.”

  Dilara bent over Locke, and her perfume washed over him. He tried to ignore its exhilarating effect and pointed at the screen.

  “His suite is the only one right next to the main air intake for the ship,” he said. “Anything injected into the air stream would be distributed throughout the ship.”

  “That’s how he’s going to infect everyone?”

  “That’s my guess. He could drill a hole through his wall right into the air shaft, and no one would ever know. Even if he’s not here, he could leave instructions not to have the room disturbed. There would be no chance that the device would be shut down.”

  “We should tell someone.”

  “The problem will be getting access to his cabin. It’s probably guarded.”

  “What about the FBI?”

  “I suppose that’s an option, although they prefer to have warrants, and that’ll be hard to get with the lack of evidence we have.”

  “Are you always so optimistic?”

  He stood and found himself face to face with Dilara. His vision contracted to just her eyes, and he could feel her breath on his lips.

  “I try to think through the alternatives. But believe me, I will get at whatever is in his cabin and stop it. Then we can find out what happened to your father.”

  “I appreciate you taking all of this on. You didn’t have to.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  Before Locke realized the impulse, he swept her into his arms. He kissed her deeply, with a passion he hadn’t felt in a long time. Her body felt warm and firm against his own. She ran her fingers through his hair as they kissed. He ran his hands down her exquisite back…

  A knock at the door interrupted them. They stepped apart, as though their parents had caught them making out on the living room couch.

  Locke smiled, and then he realized why that one simple kiss was different than any other in the last two years. For the first time, he hadn’t compared the experience to Karen. He didn’t know what that meant, but he didn’t feel the guilt he thought he would.

  The knock came again, and this time he could hear a voice from outside.

  “Dr. Locke, it’s Special Agent Perez. I need to see you.”

  Wiping the lipstick from his mouth with a handkerchief, Locke went to the door and opened it. Perez walked in. He gave a lingering glance at Dilara, who was fixing her hair.

  “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

  “Not at all,” Locke said. “In fact, I was about to come find you.”

  “Now? You’ve been here all evening, and you didn’t come tell me?”

  “I didn’t have anything when I arrived, so I didn’t want to bother you. But now I do.”

  “Like what? Is this about our discussion yesterday?”

  Locke shook his head. “Sebastian Garrett. He’s on board. He’s behind Rex Hayden’s crash. The same kind of thing is going to happen on this ship, and I know how.”

  “The billionaire?” Perez said in disbelief. “That’s great. I suppose you have evidence?”

  “I have a theory. I can show it to you on my computer.”

  Perez put up his hands. “That can wait. I need you to come with me. That’s why I came here. When I saw your names on the guest list, I made sure to observe you during the gala. I didn’t want to make contact there in case we were seen together, so I waited to get you until you returned to your room.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “We have a cabin set up downstairs where we can talk about it.”

  “What’s it about?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t talk about it here.”

  “Okay. Come on, Dilara.”

  Perez shook his head. “I’m afraid she doesn’t have the proper clearance. She’ll have to stay here.”

  “She stays with me,” Locke said firmly.

  “No. Only you. Now.” When Locke hesitated, Perez said, “It’s important.”

  Perez’s secrecy was odd, but after a moment, Locke grudgingly nodded.

  “I have a key,” he said to Dilara. “If someone knocks, don’t let them in. Call me right away, and I can get back here in 30 seconds.”

  “You do look at all the alternatives, don’t you?” she said with a smile. “I can take care of myself. I’ll be fine.”

  Locke liked her spirit. She was a lot like Karen in that way. But even with the similarities, she was her own person, and that’s why his feelings were different this time.

  He returned the smile and nodded.


  Then Locke left with Agent Perez to find out what was so important for him to see.

  * * *

  Dilara saw the door close and wondered what had just happened. The kiss certainly didn’t come out of nowhere. She’d felt the attraction to Locke for a few days now. But she had just dismissed it as a crush brought on by unusual circumstances. Now she didn’t know what to make of it.

  If they were going to find out what was in Garrett’s cabin, she was damn well going to help. That meant getting out of her clingy dress and into something more appropriate. The first thing was to remove her makeup, so she went into the bathroom to wash it off.

  She was about to turn on the sink when she heard the faint whine of the electronic lock on the cabin door. It had been less than a minute since Locke and Perez had left. Her first thought was that Locke had come back for his computer.

  “Forget something?” she yelled.

  No one answered.

  “It’s okay. I’m in the bathroom.”

  Still no answer.

  That was odd. Just a moment ago, he worried about her opening the door for strangers. Now he was creeping around the room? Dilara hadn’t known Locke long, but she knew that wasn’t his style. He would have answered her. Something was wrong.

  With a jolt, she realized the answer. Someone else was in the room.

  The bathroom door was ajar, but she didn’t want to take the chance that whoever was out there would see her peeking. She needed to keep the person off guard. Without a weapon, her one asset was surprise.

  “I’m just changing,” she said, attempting to maintain the same tone of voice. “I’ll be out in a minute.” She removed her high heels.

  She took her compact, opened it to use the small mirror inside, and backed behind the open door, which hid her from the view of the bathroom mirror. She lowered the compact mirror out of eye level and used it to see the reflection in the bathroom mirror. If she timed it right, she could make the most of her surprise advantage.

  The first thing she saw was an outstretched arm holding a gun slowly advancing toward the bathroom. Then the face came into view. It was Svetlana Petrova, the woman who had killed Sam Watson.

  Dilara lowered the compact and waited until the hand with the gun protruded into the bathroom. With her full weight, she slammed the door shut.

  Petrova’s hand was crushed into the door frame, and she screamed. The gun clattered to the floor. Dilara rushed to pick it up, but Petrova was more resilient than she expected.

  The door slammed inward, knocking Dilara backward into the shower. She bounced off the tile wall, using the momentum to launch herself at Petrova before she could reach the pistol.

  She aimed her head like a battering ram and threw her shoulder into Petrova’s stomach. She heard an “oof!” of air escape from Petrova’s lungs, and she pile-drove Petrova into the bedroom floor.

  While Petrova lay on the floor gasping for breath, Dilara scrambled back into the bathroom. She scooped up the pistol and pointed it at Petrova, who looked at her with an odd smile.

  “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you right here,” Dilara said.

  “Because I wouldn’t like it,” said a voice to her left. She glanced in that direction and saw Sebastian Garrett aiming a gun at her. Like the one she held, it was equipped with a silencer.

  “Put your gun down,” Dilara said, “or I’ll put a bullet in her brain.” She hoped she sounded determined. She’d handled guns all her life, but she’d never shot anyone before.

  “Then I would have to shoot you, and I don’t think you’d like that.”

  “I’m serious. I’ll do it.” And it suddenly occurred to Dilara that she would.

  “You might, but that counts on me caring about Svetlana more than I care about killing you. Are you willing to take that chance?”

  Dilara saw the look in Garrett’s eye and realized that he was a true sociopath. He didn’t care.

  “You hesitate because you think I’ll kill you anyway,” Garrett said. “I promise you, if I wanted to shoot you, we wouldn’t be having this discussion. I am an excellent shot.”

  Dilara couldn’t argue with that reasoning. Her best bet was to find out what they wanted. She dropped the gun.

  Petrova took it and stood. Dilara expected a reprisal, maybe a smack in the head, but it didn’t come.

  “So what now?” Dilara asked.

  “Our work here is done. We’re leaving the ship, and you’re coming with us.”

  That explained why they couldn’t have her bruised and bleeding. Too many questions on their way out. Petrova retrieved Dilara’s shoes from the bathroom.

  “Where are we going?” Dilara said as she put on the heels.

  “You’ll find out when we get there,” Garrett said. “But I guarantee it will be better than being on this ship.”

  She nodded. Her chance might be to alert someone to her predicament on the way out.

  “And I know what you’re thinking,” Garrett said as he led her to the door. “If you try to tell anyone that you are being taken off the ship against your will, we won’t shoot you. We’ll shoot whoever you signal.”

  As they walked down the corridor, Petrova kept behind her with the gun hidden under a shawl wrapped around her arm.

  “I saw how you hung on to Locke’s arm during the party,” Petrova said, her voice dripping with ridicule. “You can forget about him. You’ll never see him again. He’s as good as dead.”

  THIRTY-SIX

  Locke and Perez took the glass elevator down to a floor two decks above the central atrium. On the way down, Locke could see crew members beginning to clean up after the gala, but passengers still wandered along the atrium and lingered at several of the bars along the sides.

  They exited the elevator and started walking aft.

  Locke had no idea what was so important for Perez to show him, but he couldn’t get the FBI agent to tell him.

  “What are we going to do about Garrett?” he asked Perez. “We’ve only got a few hours before the Genesis Dawn sets sail.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Raid his room. If I’m right, he’s got some kind of device hooked into the ship’s ventilation system. I don’t think he’ll activate it until he’s off the ship, but if we can catch him with it, it’ll prove that he’s behind this.”

  “You know, Dr. Locke, you lost a lot of credibility coming here without telling me. Why didn’t you tell me your suspicions about Sebastian Garrett when I spoke to you yesterday?”

  “At the time, I didn’t know. Even after I got the information that he might be involved with building that bunker I told you about, I had no firm evidence. I wanted to talk to him myself, and I thought you might interfere if I told you I was coming.”

  “You’re damned right I would have! Although Sebastian Garrett is involved with the Holy Hydronastic Church — which the FBI has been investigating for some time without finding a single crime — to accuse one the country’s richest men of involvement in this Project Whirlwind is a serious charge.”

  A red light went off in Locke’s head, but he didn’t know why. Something about what Perez said was off.

  “Agent Perez, you checked all of the luggage, didn’t you?”

  “All of it. We found some contraband, but nothing that suggested a bioweapon.”

  “And Garrett’s bags?”

  “I’m telling you it was all searched.”

  They reached an outdoor cabin at the end of the hallway. Locke wasn’t satisfied by Perez’s answer. Garrett had to get the device on board somehow. His luggage would be the logical method, but how would he get anything through the bag search?

  Something wasn’t right. Locke put his hand on his belt and fiddled with his Leatherman.

  “Have you spoken to Aiden MacKenna or Grant Westfield?” he asked.

  “Don’t know them.” Perez swiped his key at the door. He let Locke walk in first.

  Locke was a step in when he finally understood why the red l
ight went off. Project Whirlwind. That was the name it had during the short time that Locke worked on it. But the name had been changed to Oasis when it was transferred to Coleman, and Project Oasis was what he called it when he talked to Perez the day before.

  Only he, Dilara, Grant, and Aiden knew the connection between Whirlwind and Oasis. If Perez never heard about it from them, there was only one way he could have known about Whirlwind.

  Perez was in on it.

  The cabin was a two-room suite like the one he and Dilara had. If it had been some kind of control room, Locke would have expected to see agents sitting at high-tech equipment. But the living room area was empty.

  All of those thoughts happened in one step. In one movement of his foot, Locke had gone from utter safety to grave danger. He kept his gait unchanged, but he couldn’t reach for his Glock, which was under his left arm. If he did, Perez would see the move before he had the gun out.

  Instead, he slipped the Leatherman out of its holster and flipped open the folding knife.

  “So what are we doing here?” he said. At the same time, he crouched down and whirled around. Perez had already unholstered his pistol, but instead of aiming it, he was bringing it down to pistol whip Locke.

  Locke ducked aside. The pistol slammed into his bicep, and pain shot up his arm. The knife in his other hand slung around and slashed Perez’s wrist. Perez cried out, and the pistol went flying toward the door where it landed on the carpet. Locke brought his elbow around and sent a blow at Perez’s face.

  Perez lurched toward the door. He crashed against it, splintering the frame, but remained standing. He looked down and saw the gun at his feet. He bent over to pick it up. Locke dropped the Leatherman and reached for his Glock. He had it aimed at Perez before the FBI agent could reach his service piece.

  “Don’t move!” Locke yelled.

  Perez froze, his hand inches from his weapon.

  “You never said Whirlwind, did you?” Perez said. “That’s what it was called when you worked on it, so my mind reverted to that code name. I knew it was wrong as soon as I said it. Funny how one little mistake can get you.”