Masters of the Broken Watches

by Razi Imam

  A muffled bang was heard, blowing the door lock apart. Sebastian stood as six armed men in masks came through the smoke. Four of them took up offensive positions, and two walked up to the table. They removed their masks, revealing the procurement officer and lead cadet.

  “We’re not here to hurt you,” the officer said. “All we need is the specimen.”

  “Are you under orders from the brigadier general?” Sebastian demanded.

  The procurement officer replied, “We’re under orders from the highest office of our government. The sooner you hand it over, the faster we’ll be out of your hair.” By now, the rest of his men had joined them at the table.

  “What’s with all the theatrics?” Sebastian pressed. “Why not just use the code to open the door?”

  One of the men announced in a clipped tone, “Sir, we have a few minutes before the elite guard arrives.” The officer nodded and approached Sebastian even closer. He was at least three or four inches too short to meet Sebastian eye-to-eye. He threw his chest out. “Where’s the specimen?”

  Sebastian breathed an internal sigh of relief as he glimpsed the pilots crouching at the blown door. He glared at the officer. “I’ll give you thirty seconds to leave this hangar. Otherwise, I promise you that the next time you wake up, it’ll be in a hospital bed.”

  Surprised by the steely eyes of the scientist, the officer glanced at his team and coughed.

  Realizing this was his opportunity, Sebastian shouted, “Poseidon—lights!” and the hangar went dark.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The Escape

  “Wash your hands and face of this charade.

  Anyone who wants these prizes flares up quickly like a wood chip.”

  ~ Rumi

  THE PILOTS SCANNED the scene. The two hangar guards were on the floor with hands and feet secured, their heads covered with burlap sacks. Six men were gathered, pointing their guns at Sebastian and three other Paramarines. Peering in, they saw that all the plane’s systems had been activated—they’d be able to fire up the engines and punch the plane through the hangar. All they needed to do was get aboard, but the plane’s steps were retracted and the door was sealed.

  The captain typed a different code into his phone, activating the silent release of a hidden pneumatic bay door near the rear wheels of the plane. He heard Sebastian shout and the hangar went dark, triggering the emergency lights to kick on with an eerie illumination. Now was their chance.

  Moments before the hangar went dark, Nidal and Michelangelo had assessed their attackers. First, the safeties were off on all their firearms—these men were not messing around. Second, they were not part of a trained force such as the Navy SEALs or Green Berets. One key giveaway was their positioning. Instead of taking self-protective flanking positions, they were all gathered around their two leaders—the procurement officer and the lead cadet. Third, their stances were all over the place—some had a casual hand on their weapons, while others showed no trigger discipline whatsoever.

  Before their assailants’ eyes could adjust to the sudden darkness, Maria capitalized on their advantage, leaping onto the table. Pivoting on her left hand, she tucked her left knee in and stretched her right leg out and brought her hiking boot across the jaw of the lead cadet, the impact throwing him onto Fabienne’s workstation. Using her momentum, she leapt from the table and landed on her feet, standing over the motionless figure.

  Sebastian moved with equal speed. He slammed his elbow into the chin of the procurement officer, whipping the man’s head back. Using his palm, Sebastian struck the dazed man in the mouth, knocking him to the ground.

  The biggest surprise to those watching from the plane came from their two unassuming colleagues, Nidal and Michelangelo. They both moved with professional precision, a cut above Sebastian and even Maria. Their coordinated hand-to-hand combat took out two of the armed men closest to them, taking their sidearms and neutralizing the last two men with clean shots to their knees. The team on the plane jumped as the hangar thundered with gunshots.

  “Poseidon—lights,” Sebastian ordered. The hangar lit up again. Maria and Sebastian stood over the still forms of their adversaries. Nidal and Michelangelo were in similar positions, scanning the environment for movement.

  The main hangar door began to crank open like a garage door, and a few men from the elite guard rushed through the blown opening. Guns raised, they spread throughout the hangar, shouting, “Clear, clear!” Michelangelo and Nidal placed their guns on the table and raised their hands, assuring the guards that they weren’t a threat.

  The head of the elite guard, a major by rank, came through the main door and approached Sebastian. “We were ordered to scramble in response to an imminent attack, sir. Are you folks okay?”

  “We’re fine,” Sebastian replied, “but who are these guys?”

  “Unsure, sir,” the major responded. He called Brigadier General Pete Montgomery to report. “We’re at the hangar, sir. There was indeed an attack. Six hostiles have already been neutralized. Orders?”

  “Neutralized? How?” Pete asked.

  “Unsure, sir,” the major replied, glancing at the Paramarines.

  “Let me talk to Sebastian,” Pete barked. The major handed the phone over.

  “Sebastian,” Pete said, “I’m getting all kinds of mixed orders and reports—I’m not sure who authorized this attack on you. I’m receiving orders to retrieve the specimen and all related research data and deliver it to the Pentagon. There was a transport plane ready to take these men and your specimen to Washington D.C.”

  Sebastian wasn’t shocked to hear Pete’s rundown. The decision had been made at the highest levels to take control of their research. What Pete told him next, however, did surprise him. “Sebastian, I don’t understand the politics of it all, but you do what you need to do to protect the specimen. Understood?”

  “Loud and clear, general,” Sebastian responded. “Thank you.”

  “Good,” Pete said. “Now, hand me back to the major.”

  In the meantime, paramedics had arrived at the scene, and all six injured men, accompanied by military police, were carted off on stretchers. As the ambulances pulled away, the noise of their sirens was eclipsed by the sudden ignition of jet engines. The tables, equipment, even the floor of the hangar started vibrating. The major turned to see that Sebastian now stood alone—the rest of his team had disappeared, they had boarded the Gulfstream. The major shouted over the noise, “Brigadier General Montgomery is arriving! I recommend you wait for him! He wants to conduct a full investigation!”

  Sebastian acted as if the engines were drowning out the major’s voice. He pointed to the airport terminal, shouting, “We need to move out of here! Tell Pete we’ll meet him in the terminal!”

  The major looked confused, but ordered his guards to move out of the way. Sebastian gave him a nod and boarded the plane, retracting the steps behind him. Once inside, he yelled to the pilots, “Get us out of here!” The plane leaped forward.

  The pilots radioed the tower, requesting emergency clearance. Oblivious to what had happened, the tower had no reason not to allow it.

  The major watched as the plane headed straight to the main runway. Realizing what was happening, he jumped into his jeep and barked at the cadet to drive. The cadet gunned the accelerator and they sped off in an attempt to intercept the jet before it could take off. The major then pulled out his cell phone and punched a code that connected him to the tower. “Abort that Gulfstream’s takeoff!” he shouted.

  “Sir, that plane has clearance from Brigadier General Montgomery himself,” the air traffic controller responded.

  The major cursed under his breath. “I’m Major Jo Jackson, head of base security, and I’m giving you a direct order. Stop that plane!”

  The control tower came through the pilots’ headsets. “Panther Two, abort takeoff. You do not have clearance for takeoff. I repeat, abort takeoff.”

  The pilots ignored the warnings and the vehicle with p
ulsating emergency lights heading straight down the runway toward them.

  “Initiate short takeoff protocol,” the captain instructed the copilot, ignoring the tower’s order. He then got on the cabin intercom. “Folks, I recommend you buckle up real fast. Takeoff is gonna be a bit aggressive.”

  The captain rammed the throttle forward, awakening the roar of the jet’s Rolls Royce engines. True to its name, Panther Two raced down the runway in the direction of the speeding jeep.

  The major realized the plane was still attempting to take off, but he felt confident they could still force it to abort. He ordered the cadet to speed up. The cadet holding the steering hard floored the accelerator. The major knew he was reducing the length of runway available to the plane. He also knew that most private jets needed five thousand feet for takeoff.

  The Panther Two captain watched his ground speed, flaps at twenty degrees. He needed to reach 108 knots in three thousand feet.

  The major, standing on the seat of the jeep, noted the distance markers on the side of the runway with growing apprehension. They had already shortened the runway by half. He was sure the plane would abort takeoff. It’d be impossible to get the lift they needed.

  The scream of the jet engines was deafening. The wind tunnel created by their air intake was so intense that it pulled the jeep closer to them. Watching his panels and ground speed, the captain grabbed the control stick and pulled it, lifting the nose of the plane.

  Major Jackson couldn’t believe what he was seeing—the plane was attempting takeoff in less than three thousand feet.

  Out of sheer fear and self-preservation, the cadet slammed on the breaks, bringing the jeep to a screeching halt. The Gulfstream took off only three hundred feet from it, clipping the windshield with its landing gear. The turbulence was so powerful that it knocked the major over onto the back seat. Dazed and dismayed, he lay on his back as the blinking red lights of the plane faded into the distance.

  The Paramarines were rattled by the G-forces of the takeoff, their hearts pumping with adrenaline, strapped in and still clutching their seats. The jet leveled off, and they all started clapping and cheering. The captain and co-pilot had pulled off an amazing takeoff maneuver.

  Sebastian turned around to see both Adora and Charles seated with the rest of the team, their hands clasped on the table exposing white knuckles, expressions of slight concern on their faces. When Sebastian had pointed out that things were going to get weird in the hangar, they had never imagined it would include escaping a group of armed men.

  “Sorry, Adora and Charles!” Sebastian exclaimed. “We had to make some quick decisions. As soon as we get to a safe location, I’ll make arrangements for you to get back home, complete with proper travel documents. I know this isn’t what you signed up for.”

  Charles shook his head. “Sebastian, please, we want to be part of the team. Adora and I wouldn’t miss this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity of finding the source of the specimen.”

  Sebastian thanked them both for continuing to pursue the adventure, then walked up to the cockpit. “Thank you,” he said to the captain and copilot. “Is our transponder on?”

  “No, I turned it off,” the captain replied, smiling. “We don’t want to be tracked right now.”

  “Great, thank you,” Sebastian said, going back to the team. “Is everyone okay?”

  Maria nodded, shifting her gaze to Michelangelo and Nidal. They nodded as well.

  “So, you guys are Navy SEALs or Green Berets?” Sebastian asked.

  Both Fabienne, who appeared most shook up by all that had happened, and Shiloh, who for once appeared serious, leaned forward to hear the answer.

  “Yeah,” Shiloh chimed in. “What were those moves? You disarmed and destroyed four men in less than five seconds. And Maria! Wow, that roundhouse kick was insane. And boss, what you did to the procurement officer was unreal—he went down like a rock.”

  “Michelangelo and I were Navy SEALs,” Nidal said. “It was a difficult part of our lives that we don’t share.”

  Sebastian didn’t want to dwell too much on it either. “Well, all of that isn’t important now. I’m grateful you were there.”

  Just then, the monitor in the back of plane lit up and Cebrián’s face blinked onto the screen, catching everyone’s attention. He skipped his customary greetings. “Is everyone okay?” They all nodded, staring back at him. “I’ve been in contact with the Pentagon, the secretary of defense, and even the president,” Cebrián continued. “We’re trying to find out who ordered the attack. There are several conflicting reports, but whoever it is, they’re running a dangerous secretive group. They’re loyal to a fault to their leader, and here’s what’s most interesting and disconcerting—they aren’t breaking any laws by attacking you. They’re protected under the new regulations of Homeland Security. Their use of force was meant to intimidate you so you would hand over the specimen without any resistance. However, they didn’t expect such opposition from a group of civilian scientists.”

  “Hey, we protected what rightfully belongs to all mankind,” Sebastian said.

  “Hmm . . .” Cebrián lifted a paper. “A broken jaw, broken nose, broken cheekbones, dislocated kneecap, and two flesh wounds from gun shots.” He placed the paper back on the table. It was hard to tell, but it appeared one corner of his mouth broke into a hint of a smirk. “Okay, what are your plans now?”

  “Charles has identified a geological anomaly near Bombay Reef,” Sebastian replied. “We believe that’s the source of the specimen.”

  Cebrián regarded the pair. “Hello, Doctor Charles Shine and Adora Celestine. I’ve learned about you two from Poseidon’s reports. Thank you for the support you’ve given us in these last few hours.” Unsure how to respond, they nodded and turned their gaze to Sebastian.

  Shiloh spoke up. “Cebrián, if we’re being hunted by a secret government force, wouldn’t they be tracking this call?”

  Cebrián nodded. “Good question, Shiloh. I’ve activated block chain security protocols. All communications, interactions, Poseidon’s analyses, and the team’s findings over the last few days have been broken into small bits, encrypted, and distributed across global servers, making it impossible for anyone to retrieve any valuable information.

  “Furthermore, your cell phones have been electronically burned, so they’re as good as paperweights. And Panther Two is coated with a special carbon nanotube-infused paint that once the captain changes the angle of the flaps, you become invisible to radar. I’m working on finding out who’s putting you in danger, trying to sabotage our work. Now get some rest. Good luck!”

  The captain’s voice came over the speakers, asking Sebastian to join them in the cockpit. “Sebastian, we’re on a flight path heading west from Guam, with no real destination programmed. You got somewhere in mind for us?”

  “We’re planning our next steps,” Sebastian answered. “All we know at the moment is that we have to go to Vietnam first—the village of Nhon Ly.”

  “That’ll work, though I’m sure they don’t have an airport,” the captain said.

  “I’ll ask Poseidon to find us an airstrip in the area,” Sebastian replied. “Ideally an obscure one.”

  Sebastian left the cockpit as Maria walked over to him. He wasn’t sure if it was the altitude or the time particles or the combat and subsequent escape, but he grabbed her by the waist, gazed into her eyes, and kissed her on the lips.

  Maria wrapped her arms around his neck, reflecting on just how much it had taken for him to show his fondness for her.

  ***

  BACK IN NHON Ly, Pham Kai sat up straight on the old wooden bench in his yard, looking out to sea, hoping and wondering. In some essential way, he felt broken by the fact that his wife was dying—at worst, her prognosis was six months, and at best, two to three years—yet he still had a quiet dignity and grace about him. Minh gingerly lowered herself next to him, holding out a cup of turmeric tea. They sat together, gazing at the water. Minh had no words
left to console her husband.

  They had just finished dinner, and the evening dusk lit up the sky with shades of orange, yellow, and pink before darkness fell. Pham Kai was contemplating the sea and sky when he noticed a slight movement to his left. Down the pebble path, he saw two well-dressed men walking in their direction. Squinting his eyes in the falling twilight, he realized one of them was his dear friend Hoang Binh.

  Delighted to greet Hoang and meet his new friend, whom Hoang introduced as Dr. Vu Ha, Pham Kai invited them in. Minh insisted they have plate of her rice and spicy fish curry. They all sat on the jute mat. Huang’s friend loved the meal, and he seemed to relish the simplicity of Pham Kai and Minh’s life and their strong representation of old cultural habits and famous Vietnamese hospitality.

  After polishing off their plates with much praise and thanks, Hoang addressed the reason for their visit. Darkness had fallen, and Pham Kai lit a couple oil lanterns. With the rhythmic shushing of the waves and the dim flickering light, Hoang dropped his voice to low tones. Pham Kai and Minh sat riveted, listening to him.

  “Immediately after you left Tonkin Fisheries, I called my friend Vu and told him about the fish you had brought in. Vu also thought there was something special about it. But before he could do a full examination of it at his university, an American team arrived and negotiated to take it.” Hoang smiled at Pham Kai. “Vu hasn’t been able to get the fish out of his mind. He has taken a four-month leave from his university, and using his own savings, he wishes to engage you for an expedition to find it one more time. He’ll pay you two months full earnings, plus expenses.”

  Minh felt herself overcome with anxiety as the conversation progressed. The last time her husband had gone on such a mission, he had come back injured and incoherent. The chances of being caught a second time by the Chinese Navy were unacceptable.

  Vu surprised by the uneasy expressions on their faces, asked what was bothering them.

  Pham Kai shared with Vu and Hoang some of the ordeal leading to his capture, torture, and eventual escape. He then pulled aside his collar and showed them the two burn puncture marks on his neck and right shoulder. Vu found the marks very disturbing, and Hoang was moved by the fact that neither of them had shared any of this during their visit to him at the fishery.