The Paradise Key (Harvey Bennett Thrillers Book 5)

by Nick Thacker

  “Yeah,” Julie said. “Only forty feet.” She peered out the glass on the starboard side of the vessel, watching the water change from dark blue to black to blue again. Suddenly a shape passed near the window.

  She jumped back, gasping. “Wh — what was that?” she asked.

  Sarah looked puzzled. “I didn’t see anything. Where were you —“

  She froze. Julie watched her. She was looking out the opposite window.

  “I saw something, too,” Sarah said.

  Julie walked to the front of the vessel. “Is there a throttle or control panel anywhere. I’d like to end this trip as soon as possible.”

  “I’m with you,” Sarah said, walking toward the back. “Nothing back here.”

  “Nothing up here, either. Not even an emergency stop.”

  “Guess we’ll just have to hope that whatever’s out there stays out there.”

  Julie nodded, swallowing. She was watching the shuttle’s progress from her perch at the front of the boat. The wide glass windows swelled outward here, and the water pressed back in toward her, causing the floating particles and streams of light from the surface to be skewed and magnified.

  It also caused everything else floating around out there to be magnified.

  She jumped again when she saw another shape. A shadow, flicking left to right across her vision. It was huge, and she caught a glimpse of a tail streaking past the glass.

  Sarah had seen it, too. “Okay, what the hell is that thing?”

  Julie shook her head. “I have no idea, but I want out. Now.” She started backing away toward the center of the shuttle, holding onto each of the chair backs as she passed. She met Sarah there, and both women looked straight ahead, at one another.

  “Shouldn’t be too much longer, right?” Sarah asked. “And there’s… no way they could get in —“

  “No,” Julie said. “I’m sure this thing is made of something stronger than whatever’s out there.”

  The shuttle creaked and shook a bit, then Julie felt it rise in the water. They were traveling upward now on a shallow rise.

  They stood, silent and still, until Julie felt the shuttle lurch again, then a mechanical catch banged through the hull of the vessel and they came to a stop. Julie looked back to the front of the boat, out the glass wall. The water was falling, draining around the sides of the shuttle and being replaced by a bright white light.

  “I guess we’re here,” Sarah said.

  “I guess we are. Wonder how long it takes to pump the water out of the room.”

  Her question was answered soon — less than a minute, thanks to a pair of massive pumps that sucked the water out from the floor and back into the sea. The Subshuttle itself formed the seal for the fourth wall, and within another thirty seconds the door on the side of it slid open, revealing a long, brightly lit hallway.

  “We’re here,” Julie said, stepping out. “I guess this is the lab.”

  The ring was much larger than the central ring that housed the hotel, so the hallways seemed to be straighter, even though Julie could see the edges curving around on both sides of her. Sarah stepped out and stood next to her.

  “So,” she asked, “where do we start?”

  “We’re looking for anyone who knows Dr. Lin,” Julie said. “And preferably anyone who knows what he was working on.”

  “Right,” Sarah said. “But I’d be happy to bump into anyone who knows something about what’s floating around out there, too.”

  “Can’t argue with that. Let’s start by finding someone in general. There can’t be too many people here, right? They’ll surely know something about this place, and probably Dr. Lin as well.”

  Julie walked to the left, with Sarah Lindgren at her side. Julie shuddered once more, thinking again about the mysterious creature that had buzzed their shuttle on the way in. The long, slender tail, dark body, blacker even than the water it was traveling through.

  I hope we figure this out soon, she thought. She was starting to think this Paradisum was less of a paradise than the name implied.

  28

  BEN WAS REELING, HIS HEAD spinning. He felt the same way he felt after he and Reggie had one too many glasses of bourbon at night. He was a rum and Coke sort of guy, and he and Julie enjoyed a glass of red wine together most nights, but when Reggie was staying with them he brought out the bourbon.

  And right now he felt drunk. He wasn’t stumbling, nor was his perception compromised, but he felt the same floating lightheadedness of too much alcohol in his system.

  He’s going to kill him? he thought. Ben wanted Garza out of the picture just as much as Reggie, and he knew Julie felt the same way. Joshua had been a close friend to all of them, and they all wanted justice to be served.

  But they weren’t mercenaries. They weren’t cold-blooded killers. Ben knew how he’d felt in that moment; he remembered it like it was yesterday. He remembered where he was, lying on the floor in the gymnasium, injured from his own gunshot wounds. He remembered not being able to see Julie, not knowing whether she was okay. He remembered The Hawk standing over him, smiling.

  And he remembered Joshua falling to the floor, fading away. He’d died young, older than Ben but younger than Reggie by a few years. A stand-up guy, tricked into serving for an organization he thought was worthy of his loyalty, up until their expedition to the Amazon months ago convinced him otherwise and he joined the CSO as the de facto leader.

  He closed his eyes as they rode down the elevator down to Sub-1, identified by the large, lit circular button on the panel. That’s where they would catch the Subshuttle to the second ring, where the staff quarters, research labs, and their rendezvous with Garza would take place.

  Ben squeezed the area around the sides of his nose with two fingers, trying to push away the growing anxiety. We can’t do this, he thought. We can’t kill a man for no reason.

  He knew there was, in fact, a reason. But how would it look to the park staff? To the investors visiting the park, if word got out? How would it look to Adrian Crawford?

  And most importantly, what would happen when Mr. E found out? The man was a docile, reserved gentleman, not without his quirks but certainly above cold-blooded murder from a team he was in charge of.

  He turned to face Reggie. They were eye-to-eye, Ben just a fraction taller. He was bigger, though. Stocky and intimidating when he wanted to be. And right now he wanted to be.

  “I can’t let you do that Reggie.”

  Reggie grinned, then frowned. Unsure of what game he was playing, Ben figured.

  “I can’t let you murder Garza.”

  “Ben…” Reggie sighed. “Ben, this is Garza we’re talking about. The H —“

  “I know who it is, Gareth,” Ben said. “I was there too, remember?”

  Reggie stepped up closer to Ben. His grin faded. “What are you saying?”

  “I said it twice already. I’m not going to let you kill —“

  “You’re not going to let me?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  The elevator dinged, but neither man moved. Ben caught a glimpse of the shoreline, now above them, smacking against the very top reaches of the glass elevator. The deep blue of the ocean outside the window hovered, pressing in around Ben. He felt constricted, claustrophobic even.

  “You’re going to prevent me from killing Garza. That what you’re saying?”

  “Reggie, I told you already. You can’t just walk in there and kill him. He’s — I mean, he’s not innocent — but you represent the CSO now. You’re not just some guy hellbent on exacting revenge, damn all the fallout. I know that was your background, and —“

  Reggie laughed, a snickering grunt. “You know nothing of my past, Ben. I told you pieces of it, and the report you probably read has the basic details. Army, sniper, worked as a hired gun for awhile. That it?”

  Ben nodded.

  “Well you don’t know the half of it. Here’s the deal, pal: when I’m faced with doing the right thing or back
ing down because I can’t figure out how to make it sound palatable, I do the right thing. I thought you were the same type of guy.”

  The doors opened, then closed again. The elevator didn’t move.

  Ben clenched and unclenched his fists. He felt like punching him.

  “Ben, I’m going to walk into that room, and I’m going to avenge the death of my friend. You can try to stop me, but I can guarantee you that it’s a very bad idea. You’re tough, but you’re a capable fighter because I made you that way. Got it? So if you think —“

  Ben lashed out with a right hook, aiming straight for his friend’s jaw. Do it the hard way, then, he thought.

  Reggie sidestepped the blow easily, brought his elbow up and smashed it down on Ben’s outstretched right hand, crushing his forearm. Ben immediately fell to his knees, unable to control the pain searing up his arm and shoulder.

  Reggie held Ben’s fist, still pressing down with his own elbow. “Try it again, Ben.”

  Ben glared up at him.

  “Go ahead. Try it. See what happens. You’ve seen me upset. I’m getting there, quickly. You sure you want to be on the other side of that?”

  Ben struggled against Reggie’s grip, but he had him in an unbreakable hold. Without twisting his own arm out of its socket, Ben was completely unable to move.

  “I’m going to let you go now, Ben,” Reggie said. “I don’t want to hurt you, and I’d like a bit of backup in there. But I’m telling you, right now: if you try anything, or get in my way…”

  He stopped. Ben waited, still glaring. “What?” he asked. “You going to kill me too?”

  Something flashed in Reggie’s face. Red, dark, brooding, it was there and then it was gone. Just a slight notion that the man was thinking — feeling — something besides what he was outwardly trying to portray. Reggie’s grip loosened a bit. Not enough for Ben to break free, but enough so that he could twist around and stand back up. Reggie allowed it.

  “I — I’m going in, Ben,” Reggie said. “Please don’t stop me.”

  Ben stood there a moment as Reggie mashed the button to open the elevator car’s door. He stepped out, turned left, and disappeared.

  Ben waited until Reggie was out of sight before letting out a breath. He sucked in two more, quickly, trying to recover. Trying to figure out what he wanted to do. He wanted to scream. He wanted to chase after his friend and apologize, or tackle him. He wasn’t sure which.

  Instead, he took a third breath, this one deeper, and held it as he crossed the threshold and exited the elevator. He turned left to follow Reggie and found the man waiting for a door that led into an antechamber, the door and the wall around it made of glass.

  The sign above the door read ‘Subshuttle 1,’ and just as Ben stopped next to Reggie, the door slid open.

  Reggie looked at Ben, then at the waiting capsule on the other side. He strode forward.

  “Your call, friend. You coming?"

  29

  THE SUBSHUTTLE RIDE WAS IMPRESSIVE but uneventful. Like a married couple overcoming a quick spat, neither man spoke during the ten-minute ride. Reggie felt something he wasn’t used to feeling. He was angry, but in a disappointed sort of way. Anger was an emotion he could deal with. Anger was a known entity, a comfortable entity in some ways. He was used to it. But this anger wasn’t one-dimensional. It wasn’t based on a single fact, or focused on a single idea.

  This anger was based on betrayal. Ben was his friend, by his account even the best friend he had. He trusted him, and he knew Ben respected him as well. When they were together they were inseparable, and they had been since they’d walked out of the Amazon rainforest after a successful mission.

  So Ben’s refusal meant a lot more to Reggie than just a simple disagreement. They were leaderless on this mission, and Reggie had assumed a lot of control already. He had always looked up to Ben for the man’s resilience, sense of justice, and his loyalty to those he was closest to. He had always looked to Ben for the right thing to do, since he knew Ben would do whatever needed to be done, no matter what, as long as it was ‘right’ in the man’s mind.

  So now, to be so sure of himself only to be disregarded by his best friend, was a strange emotion for Reggie. He wanted to please Ben, wanted him in his good graces, and yet an opposing force inside his mind told him to forget about it, to ignore Ben altogether and push forward with what he knew was right.

  And killing The Hawk was, without a doubt, right. Reggie knew the moment he’d taken Julie hostage that Vicente Garza would die. And the moment The Hawk had pulled the trigger and ended his friend’s life, Reggie knew he would be the man to kill him.

  He sped up, unsure of Ben’s location behind him and not caring enough to turn around and check. For a man as large as Ben, he moved stealthily. Reggie curved around the hallway and toward the glass doors at the end, labeled ‘STAFF DINING’ in plain-white block vinyl lettering. There were a few other people in the room, sitting at tables around the interior, and Reggie pushed the doors open and walked in.

  The room smelled like a cafeteria: many interesting and delicious smells wafting together and creating a not-so-delicious overall effect. The warm heat of the room added to the high-school cafeteria feel, the effect of ovens that had been cranking out dishes since early that morning. The humidity in the air even felt higher here, surprising considering they were in the middle of the ocean to begin with, but Reggie hardly noticed or cared about any of that.

  He scanned the room. A group of three scientists, all men, each wearing the obligatory white lab coat, sat at a round table in the corner off to his right. Another group, this one made up of two women and a man sat at the table directly in front of him, the group he’d seen through the glass.

  I’ll have to make sure we’re subtle here, he thought, already calculating positioning and tactics. He didn’t want anyone to panic, and he certainly would not be happy with any collateral damage. Find The Hawk, isolate, take him out. That was the working plan, at least. In his experience, however, he knew that plans were destined to change on the fly. And in his experience, his greatest skill was in adapting those plans on the fly.

  He didn’t see any semblance of security in the room. There were support columns, three in total that he could see, holding up the ceiling in the large expanse of a room. The dining hall had probably two-hundred tables inside, each with four or five chairs, but only the two in front of him and to his right were occupied.

  He walked farther into the room. Ben appeared at his side, silent as usual. Reggie strode forward and saw another group of five, all wearing casual clothes, to his left, about halfway down the room. They had been hidden from view by the column in front of him, and he realized then he would need to do a full reconnaissance scan of the area. He couldn’t afford to not see who all was in here.

  “Over there,” Ben said, his voice low.

  Reggie looked to where Ben was facing, and then he saw it. Sitting with his back against a window, facing them. Looking at them, but not truly seeing them. Or if he was, not revealing his thoughts about them.

  Reggie increased his pace.

  The Hawk watched him approach.

  Ben kept up, walking alongside his friend. Reggie had a moment of doubt as he wondered what in the world Ben was thinking. Would he try to sabotage this? Reggie disregarded the thought. Ben could be rash sometimes, but he would never purposefully endanger his friends. And even though their little spat was unfortunate, it wouldn’t have been nearly enough impetus for Ben to abandon their friendship entirely.

  No, Ben would play a different game. Reggie thought it out. Planned against the contingencies and possibilities, trying to understand Ben’s perspective. Ben would try to prevent Reggie from taking action against The Hawk, but he wouldn’t go so far as to put their lives in danger. He might argue, might even plead, but he wouldn’t allow The Hawk to attack Reggie.

  So go fast, make it count, and do it before Ben has a chance to open his mouth.

  Good a plan as an
y, Reggie reckoned. He was unarmed, but that had never been much of an issue. His background in the Army, his later missions working as a gun-for-hire, and his years spent running a survival training camp and shooting range in Brazil had molded him into a killing machine, no matter the situation.

  The table was sparsely set. No food, but a cup of coffee sat in front of Garza, mostly full. Silverware at all four seats, rolled inside thick cloth napkins. A paper napkin dispenser, which seemed somewhat redundant, sat on the edge of the table against the wall, flanked by a salt and pepper shaker on either side.

  He’d killed someone before using the watch he was currently wearing, so any of the items on the table were possible tools.

  He approached the table, seeing out of the corner of his eye the larger group of five people, casually dressed, standing up and walking their dishes toward the bucket of dirty tableware near the buffet line. They were laughing about something, completely unaware of Reggie’s and Ben’s presence in the room. Two buffet line workers stood still, poking at something with tongs, wearing hairnets and ignoring everything else happening in the room. They joked and laughed, set their dishes down one at a time, and exited the room the same way Reggie and Ben had entered.

  Across the room behind Garza, he saw a janitor, mopping up a spill still farther into the curved, wide room. The glass windows The Hawk sat in front of stretched all the way around the room, probably a quarter of the way around the entire structure itself. It was a massive hall, and the relative emptiness of it was somewhat off-putting.

  “Hello, Gareth,” Garza said. He was alone, his thick, black hair pressed back on his head, a new hairstyle Reggie wouldn’t have been a fan of even if the man wearing it wasn’t was a murderer.

  “Garza,” Reggie said.

  “And you brought Harvey with you as well. Welcome, Mr. Bennett.”

  Ben glared at The Hawk. “I think we’re on a first-name basis by now, Vicente. Wouldn’t you say?”