Breakthrough

by Michael C. Grumley

  “Please. Let me save him and I will stay.”

  Clay hesitated squinting at him.

  “Please. I must save him!” he pleaded. His voice was beginning to sound desperate. “You have nothing to gain by keeping him here. He will die and you will still only have me.”

  After a long moment, Clay agreed. “Okay, but if you try to leave I’ll end it for both of you.”

  The man nodded. He lifted the table slightly freeing the leg, then very slowly took a step back and out of the way of the table, which continued sliding toward the light unassisted. Clay watched the man on the other side of the table who in turn watched the table until it disappeared into the soft glow. He continued watching until the light finally blinked out and disappeared.

  Clay turned his head so he could see the doctor from the corner of his eye. “Doc.” Kanna did not respond. He just stared, stunned at the man in front of Clay.

  “Doc!” Clay shouted, shaking Kanna out of his daze. “Call the bridge. Get some backup down here now!”

  The doctor jumped for the phone and picked it up.

  “Tell them to come armed.”

  Kanna nodded. As he spoke into the phone, Clay examined the man in front of him.

  “So who are you?” Clay asked again.

  The man stood motionless staring at Clay. The gun did not appear to frighten him at all. Finally, he answered. “My name is Palin.”

  “Where are you from?” Clay asked.

  The man slowly looked around the room. “Not far.”

  Clay squinted. “I’m going to need some better answers than this.”

  The man called Palin looked back at Clay. “I’ll answer what you ask. That was our agreement.”

  No sooner had Kanna replaced the receiver that several running feet could be heard on the loud catwalk above. Clay motioned behind Palin. “Back up against that wall and keep your hands in front of you.”

  Palin complied, slowly stepping back until his back brushed the wall. Moments later, Harris and Tay burst into the room behind Clay with guns drawn.

  “What happened?” asked Harris.

  Clay did not take his eyes off of Palin. “That’s a good question. Let’s start by having you handcuff Mr. Copperfield here.”

  19

  Captain Emerson approached Alison and her team who were in the process of dismantling their computer equipment.

  “Ms. Shaw,” he started, then looked at Chris and Lee. “Gentlemen. We have a change of plans.”

  Alison stood up. “What do you mean?”

  “We need to offload you and the other passengers from this ship immediately.”

  They were confused. “What?”

  “For your safety and the sake of national security I need to get you off the Pathfinder,” Emerson said.

  “I don’t understand. You were taking us back to Miami. Did something happen?”

  Emerson shook his head. “I can only say that there has been a security incident. Believe me when I tell you that this is for your protection.”

  “An incident, when?” She scanned the bridge and did not find who she was looking for. “Did something happen to Mr. Clay?”

  “John Clay is fine,” he assured them. “There will be a Coast Guard cutter arriving in a few minutes. It is important that you and your team be ready to transfer as quickly as possible.”

  “Wait,” she said. “What about Dirk and Sally?”

  “I’m afraid the Coast Guard ship is not equipped to accept them. They will have to remain with us until we have the situation addressed and can return them to you. I’m sorry. Rest assured that delivering them will be our top priority and they will be well cared for until we bring them to you.”

  Alison would have normally protested, but she suspected something dangerous had just occurred. She decided this was not a good time to pick a fight with the Navy.

  She looked at Emerson. “I have your word, Captain?”

  “You most certainly do. Do you need any assistance?”

  She looked at Lee who shook his head. “No, we’ll be ready.”

  The Coast Guard cutter was half the length and much faster judging by its sudden arrival making a half circle around the Pathfinder. It slowed and finished its circle coming up alongside. Both ships lowered their giant tenders to protect their hulls from mutual damage as they pulled themselves together and placed a large walkway from one railing to the other.

  All of the reporters were lined up with their belongings. Once they were motioned forward, they began stepping across one at a time. Alison, Chris, and Lee paid a quick visit to Dirk and Sally and then made their way back toward the bow. By the time they arrived, the last of the passengers were crossing over with the help of two sailors on either side.

  Alison stepped up onto the walkway and turned back. Clay was nowhere to be seen, nor could she see the dolphin’s tank, far back on the stern. She took a deep breath and walked quickly across. Chris and Lee followed.

  When all passengers were seated and counted, the plank was quickly removed, the engines roared to life, and the cutter pulled away. As they charged forward, the Pathfinder slowly shrank in the distance behind them. Alison leaned forward and caught sight of the helicopters approaching the Pathfinder’s bow, one large helicopter accompanied by two smaller Apache attack choppers on each side.

  20

  Kathryn Lokke was sitting at her desk but quickly stood up when she saw Phillip LeBlanc walk in. At nearly six feet tall and in his sixties, LeBlanc was the Secretary of the Interior and in Kathryn’s opinion one of the few honorable politicians left at his level. He was also her boss. Having run the USGS a few administrations prior, and just before the wave of scandals, LeBlanc noticed Kathryn early in her scientific career and became a mentor. He was instrumental in her becoming the director of the USGS as the person who encouraged her, or pushed as she recalled, to go for it.

  “How was your presentation?” he asked, sitting down on a leather couch which lined the wall near her desk.

  She exhaled dramatically. “Which half?”

  “Not good eh?” LeBlanc asked rhetorically.

  “My good friend Stevas was there.”

  “Crap.”

  Kathryn sat back down. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting that. And now, as far as I can tell, both he and the President think I’m a loon.”

  “Stevas is a sleaze but he doesn’t think you’re crazy, or stupid for that matter. He’s just playing nasty politics. You do know he’s thinking about running next year right?”

  Kathryn’s eyes shot open. “For President, are you kidding me?!”

  “That’s the rumor.”

  Kathryn leaned back in her chair and covered her mouth with her hands. “Jesus, can you imagine what he would do to this department?!”

  “Yes, I can.”

  Lokke shook her head and opened her bag withdrawing her laptop. She plugged it in and pressed the power button before looking back at LeBlanc.

  “So,” he said, “I’m assuming they didn’t react the way you were expecting.”

  “The way we were expecting,” she corrected him. “And no. Evidently the idea of unpredictable risk is lost on them. The President said he wants more proof before going out to other countries and risking a panic.” She spied him suspiciously. “You should have come with me.”

  LeBranc frowned. “No, you run the department now Kathryn. I had nothing to add anyway.” He leaned back into the couch and crossed his legs. “So he wants more proof.”

  “Yes. Hopefully something slightly less compelling than an approaching tsunami.”

  He laughed. “Let’s hope so.”

  Kathryn shrugged sarcastically. “Fortunately, I think they just want the day and time that it’s supposed to collapse.”

  “So what’s the plan?”

  Kathryn logged into her computer. “We need more evidence. And evidence that does not rely on my calculations of shrinking ocean volumes. Stevas really played me the fool on that one.” She sat back again in her
large chair. “I’m thinking that if we can get more exact measurements and at the same time use early indicators from the previous Ronne break off, and the speed in which it actually separated, we may be able to present a more realistic risk level. More importantly, as long as we have a lot more facts than the other global agencies they won’t be in much of a position to argue. The only arguments left should be what we do about it and how much it will cost.”

  “Who else was there, and more importantly did anyone else believe you?”

  “Well ‘believe’ may be a strong word, but yes, I think there were a few who understood the risk I was trying to impart. Not surprisingly, it was the military officers and not the politicians. They seem to have a pretty solid grasp on risk and consequences. And Miller, the Secretary of Defense, seemed to be listening.”

  “No surprise there.” LeBlanc replied. “After all, they have to fight wars. Politicians just start them.” He went on. “If you don’t know it by now Stevas has the President’s ear, and that’s the polite version. Your best bet is to get as much data as is possible, and convince Mason to let you present it to the President while Stevas is not around. He’d probably be a bit more receptive.”

  “And how exactly do I convince Mason?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “You’re a good looking woman, sweet talk him.”

  Kathryn pretended to be offended. “Did you really just say that?”

  “Of course I didn’t. You’re hearing things.”

  Kathryn smiled and looked at her laptop, thinking. “I’m going to need to assemble a strong investigation team, starting with the group that documented the slide. We’re going to need more people.”

  LeBlanc could see that she had just entered planning mode. He stood up and straightened his tie. “You’re also going to have to convince some of those people to get off their warm duffs and walk around in subzero temperatures for a while.”

  She suddenly stopped typing and gave him a concerned look. He was right, she was going to have to yank people off of other projects. This was not going to make her popular.

  He watched her expression change with the full scope of what she had to do dawning on her. “This might be a good time to practice that sweet talking.” And with a wink, he walked out.

  21

  The two Apache attack helicopters hovered just off the Pathfinder’s bow while the larger Seahawk lowered itself onto the ship’s landing pad. Immediately upon touchdown, the door slid open and four marines jumped onto the platform dressed in combat gear and carrying M4 carbine assault rifles. They ran quickly out from under the turning blades to the base of the stairs where several of the ship’s crew, still armed, stood around John Clay and the smaller Palin. Clay stood close to Palin who was handcuffed with his arms behind his back. He showed no expression as he watched the marines approach.

  The first marine stopped in front of them and saluted to Captain Emerson who also stood next to Clay. The other three just a step behind did the same.

  “Sir!” the marine said, turning to Clay. “We have orders to bring you back to base. Are you ready?”

  Clay nodded.

  The marines grabbed Palin by the arms and walked him briskly back to the helicopters, the blades still spinning at full speed. Clay grabbed his duffle bag and pulled it up over his shoulder. He turned to Emerson.

  “Thanks Rudy,” he said shaking hands.

  Emerson nodded. “Keep me posted.”

  Clay gave an informal salute to the rest of Emerson’s crew then turned and trotted after the marines. He reached the chopper just as they hauled Palin aboard and crawled in after him. The marines sat on all sides with their rifles pointed at Palin. Clay tossed his bag into the rear, climbed in next to them and slammed the metal door shut. One of the men handed him a headset. He put it on and adjusted the microphone.

  The pilot adjusted the rotors on the Seahawk, and the helicopter lightened until it lifted off the pad. It quickly rose into the air, flanked by both Apaches, and headed north slightly away from the setting sun. Behind and far below, the giant engines of the Pathfinder roared back to life. It swung to port and began steaming north.

  Under the sound of the helicopter’s powerful thumping blades, Clay finished his conversation and removed his headset. He leaned against the door watching Palin who sat uncomfortably with his hands still behind his back, eyes lowered at the floor. The marines watched him intently with grips tight on their weapons. Palin looked smaller than before. He sat quietly and did not struggle. To Clay, he looked almost despondent.

  Palin slowly lifted his head to look around the small cabin and the marines sitting around them. Their faces looked like chiseled stone. He looked at Clay and their eyes met. They maintained eye contact for a long time.

  Clay could not help but notice something in Palin’s gaze. Outwardly he looked small and helpless but at the same time his eyes revealed no fear. When Palin looked away, Clay turned his head away too and looked out the window. After a few minutes, the blue ocean ended and was quickly replaced by white sand beaches as the helicopters raced north along Florida’s Atlantic coastline.

  The Naval Air Station in Jacksonville was the largest Navy base in the southeast region and third largest in the United States. Referred to as “NAS JAX”, the base was the largest hub in the region and specialized in antisubmarine warfare and some of the best aviator training on the planet.

  The three helicopters arrived in just under two hours and landed at a remote area of the base on the southwest corner to avoid attention. Several Humvee vehicles surrounded the landing area with their headlights on, and two dozen armed soldiers stood waiting. As soon as the Seahawk touched down, they rushed and yanked open the door. Clay quickly jumped down and watched the four marines climb out and strong arm Palin as he stumbled down the steps.

  “Easy!” Clay yelled above the sound of the rotors.

  The marines paid no attention as they escorted Palin off the pad and over to one of the vehicles as the rest of the soldiers fell in around them. Clay ran to keep up but was suddenly pulled aside by an officer.

  “Mr. Clay?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Come with me please.” The officer directed Clay to a different vehicle and opened the door for him. After he climbed in, the officer ran to the other side and slid behind the wheel.

  Clay tried to find Palin in the glare of the bright headlights but could not determine which vehicle they had put him in. The Humvees pulled out in unison and headed in a different direction, toward a small section of dimly lit buildings.

  Clay’s driver turned left and instead drove to a small two-story building at the edge of a dark, thick forest which extended for many miles. Had it not been for a single bright light and two soldiers standing guard in front of the metal door, Clay would have thought the structure was no longer in use. The officer brought the Humvee to a stop and they both got out. He noticed Clay instinctively looking into the back seat. “Someone will bring your things shortly.”

  Clay nodded and followed him to the entrance where the officer waved an ID at the guards. The guard on the right turned around and punched a code into an unseen console. The giant metal door slid to the side with a loud hissing sound.

  They both stepped inside into a brightly lit entryway where they were met by four more soldiers. Two of the soldiers held their rifles while the other two each held up a long cylindrical Geiger counter. One scanned Clay and the other scanned his officer escort. Clay produced his military ID and both were run under a computerized scanner. While he waited, Clay looked around the large room. There were four cameras each in different locations and a large single hallway extending to a door at the far end. Both men retrieved their identification cards and walked to the end of the hall. The door was an elevator door which opened as they approached. They stepped in and joined another armed soldier who maintained a hold on his weapon with one hand and pushed the down button with the other. The tiny room jerked slightly and began its descent.


  Clay stood calmly behind the soldier examining his outfit and gear. All of his previous visits to NAS JAX had been to some of the base’s larger facilities where he had made a number of friends. In fact, his last visit was just five weeks prior where he spent the day in discussions with submarine engineers on another communication problem. He had never before seen the building he was now in and it was quite clear that was by design. In fact, Clay wondered how many of the other 23,000 base personnel knew about it.

  They descended for what Clay assumed to be three or four levels. When the doors opened it was clear that the building’s real heart was underground. In the background, several people hurried past back and forth. In front of them a female officer was waiting as they stepped off. She turned to lead them without a word. Both men followed.

  After two right turns, they arrived at a large conference room, where to Clay’s surprise Admiral Langford was waiting along with Captain Foster; the commander of NAS JAX. They crossed the room as both of Clay’s escorts saluted and disappeared.

  “Here he is,” Langford said extending his hand. “John, meet Captain James Foster, he runs the base here.”

  “Hello Lieutenant.”

  Clay saluted and then accepted Foster’s handshake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you sir. I’ve been here many times but have never had the pleasure.”

  Langford got right to business, gesturing toward the large conference table in the middle of the room. At the far end was a giant flat monitor mounted to the wall. “Clay we’re about to have a call with the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the Secretary of Defense, and the National Security Advisor. We are also going to include a few experts in various fields. Obviously we need you to recount exactly what happened this morning on the Pathfinder so we can understand what we are dealing with here.”

  Clay nodded. “Yes sir.”

  “Do you need anything before we start?” asked Langford. “We have a few minutes yet.”