Francis recognized it as a Kazan Mi-172, a converted version of the Mi-17 Russian transport helicopter. It was painted a dark blue and appeared to have only two windows toward the front of the fuselage. Caroline stood aside as they were ushered up the steps into a luxuriously decorated interior. Bridge guy number one walked to the end of the cabin and opened a narrow door. MP5 guy told them to get inside.
When the door was closed and locked they were back in the dark. Francis felt around and was relieved to find a cushioned seat running along both sides.
“We know where the submarine goes?” Mike said.
“Hey, it worked, didn’t it? I don’t know if you were keeping up with current events back there, but we almost bought the farm.”
“I don’t think she has a fucking clue what we were talking about,” Mike said.
“I think you’re right,” Francis agreed. “I’d say we were dealing with one of two possibilities. Either they take a very laid-back approach to management, or someone has broken ranks and set out on their own. I’m inclined to believe the latter.”
“Why would their own people want to cover up the missing drive?” Mike asked.
“I don’t know,” Francis said. “But we better convince them that that’s exactly what’s going on, because I don’t have any more aces up my sleeve. The old submarine trick was the last one.”
Chapter 63
The Callisto
Somewhere on the Baltic Sea Monday 24 July 2006
1600 CEST
Titov and Captain Williams were sitting in the officer’s mess looking over a map when a member of the crew came in.
“Sir,” he said, “The chief asked me to tell you that he can fix the generator, but it will take him another three hours.”
“Good. Tell him I’ll be right down.”
Williams took the plotting compass and held it between their position and the town of Utska on the Polish coast. “One hundred and eighty miles. There’s no point turning back to Aurora without the comms link. If we’re moving again by 1900, we could be there by 0330 at a stretch.”
Titov nodded. “What choice do we have?”
“None. I’m going down to the engine room to see if I can speed things up.”
Chapter 64
Utska, Poland
Monday 24 July 2006
1930 CEST
The three men seated around the table all looked up at the guard as he came in.
“Contact Aurora and tell them we’ve lost contact with the Callisto,” Richelle told him.
The man left in a hurry. Richelle looked down at the map in the middle of the table where a large circle had been drawn to indicate the position of the Pandora, now anchored halfway between Klaipeda on the Polish coast and the Swedish island of Oland. “I fucking knew something like this would happen,” she said. “God damn it!”
A moment later the head of the security team appeared in the doorway.
“What is it, Gary?” Richelle said.
“Ma’am, there’s a helicopter approaching. It’s using the correct authentication codes.”
Richelle stood. “Keep trying. I want Captain Williams on the line by the time I get back.”
As they walked out into the back garden another guard came running out of the house behind them.
“Who the hell is that?” Richelle asked.
“I don’t know, ma’am,” the security chief said.
“Is it ours?”
Before he could answer the helicopter turned on its landing light and they were both temporarily blinded. Richelle moved back, covering her eyes.
“Move back and be prepared to shoot anyone that gets out,” she said.
Both men cocked their machine guns and knelt down behind the low hedgerow running along the back of the house. The helicopter turned as it descended and Richelle saw that it was one of theirs. It touched down gently on the grass and the pilot immediately switched off the turbines. The blades were still spinning when the door opened and Caroline stepped out.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Richelle said when Caroline reached them.
“Has Jack Fielding called?” Caroline said.
“No, he hasn’t. Are you going to answer my question?”
Caroline turned back toward the helicopter and signaled. “We have a serious problem. I thought Jack would have called to let you know we were coming. It was his idea.”
Richelle watched as Mike and Francis were led down the steps and across the lawn. When they stopped Francis winked at Richelle and said, “Evening, ma’am.”
“Who the fuck are these people, Caroline? And why would you bring them here, of all the god damn places on earth?”
“Someone tried to kill me, Richelle.”
“What?”
“Someone planted a bomb under my car. I would have been on my way to Frankfurt at the time, but these two showed up…”
Caroline’s voice trailed off and went silent, as if this fact had eluded her until now.
“Someone better start making sense,” Richelle said.
“Richelle,” Francis said. “May I call you Richelle?”
“No you may not! Who the hell are you?”
“Okay, Ms. de Villepin, then. My name is Francis Moore. I admit we came to Zurich to find your sister, but we had nothing to do with the bomb. If you can just accept that in good faith for the time being, perhaps you’ll let me explain why we are here. From what I have seen, it may be more important to you than it is to us.”
Richelle studied Francis for a moment. “What are you doing here?”
“To cut a long story short, I used to kill people for the Pentagon. Ten days ago I broke into the Federal Reserve Bank in New York with the help of a man named Gerald Ross. A man your people killed. I did it to get my hands on something I needed to blackmail my former employer into shutting down the program I used to work for. The safety deposit box I found your drive in once belonged to the CIA. If I’d known that was no longer the case, I would never have taken it.”
Caroline handed the drive to Richelle. “He found this at the bank.”
Richelle studied the drive for a moment. “You found this in a vault in New York?”
“Yes,” Francis said. “We came to Zurich to return it. And to tell you we have no interest in what’s on it as long as you call your people off.”
Richelle looked almost too stunned to speak. She turned to Caroline. “Is this true?”
“I – I don’t know. He had the drive. I called Jack from Zurich to ask if he knew anything about it.”
“And what did he say?” Richelle asked.
“He said Carl had a safety deposit box at the Fed, but didn’t know anything about the drive.”
“I should think not,” Richelle said. “These were all supposed to have been destroyed. And Jack told you to come here?”
“Yes,” Caroline said, “until he could find out what was going on.”
“We had nothing to do with the bomb under your car,” Mike said.
“And you are?” Richelle asked.
“Michael Banner. I’m an agent with the FBI field office in New York. I was assigned to the investigation before it was taken over.”
“Jesus, Caroline,” Richelle said. “You brought him here? What the hell were you thinking?”
When Caroline didn’t answer Richelle said, “Never mind. It doesn’t matter now. Gary, take them downstairs and lock them up.”
“Jesus, lady,” Francis said. “Did you hear what I just said? If you don’t know anything about this, then you’ve got a traitor on your hands. They tried to kill your sister. If they know where she is, what makes you think they won’t try again?”
Richelle’s hands became a blur. One moment her left was down at her side, the next it was gripping Francis by the throat. With her right she had drawn a pistol and put the barrel to his temple. “Listen, I don’t know who you are or what the hell you’re doing here. If you ask me, your story sounds like pure bullshit. Until I get a call tell
ing me otherwise, you two are the only people I’m suspecting of anything. Clear?”
“Crystal,” Francis said. “But you’re making a big mis –”
Richelle took her hand off his throat and brought the elbow of her right arm crashing into his temple. Francis looked at her, his eyes suddenly dull. He stumbled to one side and fell to his knees. When he spoke the words were slurred. “That all you…?”
Then he fainted.
Mike stepped forward and the man behind him pulled him back. “You people are insane! I hope whoever is taking you up the ass from the inside does a good job of it.”
Richelle was already walking inside. “Take them downstairs.”
Chapter 65
The Pandora
The Baltic Sea
Monday 24 July 2006
2000 CEST
Captain Almila watched the screen on the bridge as the divers checked their equipment and walked to the ladder on the edge of the launch deck. Both were wearing military spec Aqualung rebreather systems.
“You’re clear,” the chief officer said into his radio. “Proceed to position one.”
Both divers gave the camera a thumbs-up. When they were in the water a crewman passed one of them an underwater camera. As soon as they were submerged, the chief switched the camera feed and they watched as the divers descended several yards and began swimming toward the bottom of the hull.
The divers reached the stern and turned toward the port side of the ship. The camera panned past one of the screws and moved forward until they reached a round steel hatch about two yards across.
“We’ve reached position one, sir. Ready when you are.”
The chief pushed the first of six green numbered buttons lined up on the console in front of him. The hatch didn’t open, but blew out, followed by a wash of air bubbles. The camera followed the heavy steel cover as if flipped over like a coin dropped into a fountain and quickly disappeared into the depths below.
“Cover is clear,” the diver said. “You’re good to go.”
The chief turned the switch below the first button. Both divers moved back as the end of a thick, hollow steel tube emerged from the open shaft. The tube kept coming until all ten yards of it was free. When it finally cleared the cylinder and stopped, the jolt reverberated all the way up to the bridge.
“Number one is clear, sir. It looks good.”
“Drop it,” Almila said.
The chief turned the switch another forty-five degrees. The tube suddenly began to drop, trailing a thick metal cable behind it. Less than thirty seconds later the cable stopped as the pylon hit the seabed.
“Okay. Proceed to number two,” the chief said. “Let’s get this done quickly. We’ve got weather on the way. I want you boys back on board as soon as possible.”
“Roger that, sir.”
It took just over an hour to drop all six. By the time the divers were back on board, the ship had begun to roll visibly. The chief saw the worry on the captain’s face and said, “We should be all right, sir. All the reports have this passing by 0200.”
“I hope you’re right,” Almila said. “I don’t even want to think about what might happen if it doesn’t.”
Chapter 66
Aurora
Monday 24 July 2006
2230 EEST
Mitch was sitting in his living room toying with the touch screen remote that controlled the apartment’s wide range of gadgetry. The one that fascinated him the most was the windows. Although it was buried inside a block of solid granite like everything else at Aurora, the apartment had six windows, the largest of which was in the living room. The remote controlled the view using some kind of high definition LCD display which created a remarkably clear and realistic image of just about anything you wanted, from the New York skyline at night to a remote location in the Bavarian Alps. Mitch had just changed the picture again to a view of earth from outer space when Sarah arrived.
“Hey, you,” she said and sat down on one of the highchairs at the breakfast bar. “You like the windows?”
“I’ve never seen a resolution this high on a digital display,” Mitch said.
“They put them in last year,” Sarah said. “We own part of the company in Germany that makes them.”
“TSI?” Mitch asked.
“Yes. You’ve heard of it?”
“Not until yesterday,” Mitch said. “You guys seem to have your fingers in a lot of pies.”
Sarah laughed. “What a stupid expression.”
“Oh, I’m full of them,” Mitch said. “So what’s on the agenda for today?”
“Actually,” she said, “I thought you might take me to the movies.”
Mitch looked up from the remote in his hand with wide eyes, then looked away again as the color in his cheeks began to rise. “Ah… sure. We can go to the movies. If you like.”
“Great,” she said. “Peter and Julia are going to be there. Although I think Julia is only going to see Brandon Routh.”
“Who?”
“You don’t know him? He’s the new Superman.”
“Oh, yeah. Of course. Brandon Routh. Sure, I know him.”
“So it’s a date?” she asked.
At the sound of that word something in the pit of Mitch’s stomach leaped into his throat and all he managed was a grunt in the affirmative.
“You okay?” Sarah asked.
“Sure. I’m fine.”
“Then I’ll pick you up in an hour?”
Mitch nodded. “Sounds good to me.”
She sprang from the chair and walked to the door, then turned around and gave him a little wave before stepping out. Mitch walked straight to the bathroom where he filled the sink with cold water, splashed his face several times and stood looking at himself in the mirror.
“All right, Mitch, take it easy. You can do this. Beautiful women ask nerds out all the time. You just don’t hear about it very often because society is too shallow to admit it.”
He walked to the small computer terminal in the bedroom and sat down. Mitch had already spent several hours at the desk examining Aurora’s internal information and communications system and had been surprised to see how easy it was to hack. Although he supposed it made sense when you considered the threat of an internal security breach was probably not something anyone took very seriously around here.
He found the location on the server that stored personnel records and pulled up Sarah’s. Unlike the records of those who had been recruited, hers contained very little information beyond her age, blood type and the small entry that had been made by what Mitch assumed was the resident doctor at the time of her birth. She was only three months older than Mitch and had been born by C-section after her mother went into early labor, according to the notes. But what Mitch was interested in was the photo of her. He opened it on the screen and sat looking at it for a long time. It had clearly been taken several years earlier. In it she was smiling serenely; a young girl born and raised inside a cave, and as oblivious to what that meant as an ant might be to the hill it lives in. He spent several minutes restructuring various lines of code, then went back to the living room. Where the image of Earth had been, Sarah’s face now occupied every window in the room.
He sat looking at her for a long time, thinking about his own family. His mother had died several years ago from ovarian cancer and his father less than a year later in an accident that had been far too unlikely to be just bad luck. That left an older brother in Colorado that he hadn’t seen since their father’s funeral and a few scattered aunts and uncles, most of whose names he couldn’t even remember.
Mitch made a decision.
In many ways he guessed he had already made it. But what had drawn him to this place before now was simple logic. This was different. He thought he might actually be able to make a life here, strange as it would be. And not just because he had so little to go back to. It just felt right. She felt right.
Chapter 67
Utska, Poland
Mon
day 24 July 2006
2300 CEST
“I’d tell you how bad this headache is,” Francis said, “but I don’t have the vocabulary.”
They were sitting in a small room furnished only with a trestle table and two chairs. The walls were bare concrete and the riveted steel door had neither a handle nor a keyhole in it. A single dim light bulb hung from the ceiling in a wire frame.
“Well, we’re still alive,” Mike said. “That’s something. I think she’s just spooked, myself. It’s not like the facts aren’t staring them in the face.”
“I’ll tell you something about the truth that might surprise you,” Francis said. “To people who don’t want to listen, it’s not worth two flying fucks in a snow storm.”
“Don’t forget,” Mike said, “I’ve spent over a decade in the service of the United States government. I know how it works.”
“Then you’ll know –”
The door suddenly swung open and Richelle entered. The man behind her stopped in the doorway and raised the barrel of his submachine gun. She made no effort to acknowledge them, just stepped to the table and put a picture down in front of them. “Do you know this man?”
They looked at the picture, shared a puzzled glance and shook their heads. She snapped the picture back up and put another down.
They both leaned forward to look at it.
“Never seen him before,” Francis said.
“Nor have I,” Mike said.
“What about this one?” she said.
“That’s Bruce Jessops,” Mike said. “But I think you already know that.”
She picked the photos back up. “You’re lying.”
“If you think we’re lying,” Francis said, “you’re not only a fucking lousy judge of character, you’re also blind.”
The man behind her took a step forward but Richelle shook her head and he moved back.
Origin - Season One Page 33