Not So Dead

by Charles Levin

  Longford cut him off. “So what you’re saying is that we screwed-up. How did we lose–”

  Just then, two-thirds of the screens in front of them went solid blue. A two-word message blinked in the upper right-hand corner of each screen. “Signal Lost.”

  CHAPTER 68

  KNOCKDOWN

  The Take Down was moving full-speed ahead bouncing on the swells of the outer harbor, turning to port and heading out to sea. As I leaned on the rail, I could hear the mist bouncing off our hull and smell the salty seawater wafting up from below. I thought of something I read once about the three keys to happiness: someone to love, something to do and something to look forward to. I had the first two covered. Monica is the love of my life and right now I had more than I could handle “to do.” But the future seemed so uncertain, I didn’t know what I had to look forward to. I’d battled hereditary depression for years, sought treatment and up until a few days ago, the future seemed bright and promising. Frank and I were going to change the world forever, at least for humankind. Now my dark clouds were returning. Much darker than the dark clouds overhead. My whole body shook with a chill, and I didn’t think it was from the cold misty air.

  Al stepped to the rail beside me. “How are you my friend? You’re looking a little gray.”

  “You’re probably used to this—chasing the bad guys, getting shot at, but I’m not. I’m feeling physically and mentally wiped out. Once the adrenaline wears off, you might as well toss me overboard.”

  “Well I am used to chasing bad guys but never this bad or dangerous. We just moved to the advanced level of this video game.”

  “Yeah, is the game called ‘Doom?’”

  Al hit me on the back. “This is the time that you, I mean we, need to rally. What’s that they say, ‘It’s not what happens in life that matters, but how you respond to it.’ I have found the greatest test of my mettle comes at the darkest times and the rewards for overcoming them are the greatest. So buck up, nerd.”

  “Yeah, I know the whole ‘it’s not what knocks you down, but how you bounce back up.’ Longford is a great example of that. Don’t know anyone who took more shit over forty years and kept coming back. My question is why’d she do it? What drives her? Is it ego or a true sense of mission?”

  “I suspect it’s both. I think the truly successful have to have that ego-drive to believe they can do great things and the mission-drive to believe they must do it. Kinda like you. So focus on the mission and get your ass in gear.”

  “You think of me that way? I guess that’s a good thing. I still feel the mission. It just feels like these bastards are always two steps ahead of us. So my ‘can-do’ ego is feeling a little beaten up at the moment.”

  Agnus joined us on deck, seemingly out of breath. “Guys, I just got a message. The assholes cut one or more of the major Internet cables on the sea bed about two miles north of here. Most of the overseas and a good part of our US Internet and communications are down.”

  I felt as though I had just gotten an AED shock to the heart, and a burst of energy flooded back. “How bad is it?”

  “So far we believe ninety percent of the US to overseas traffic is down and about sixty percent of US domestic.”

  “Holy shit,” I said. “Well at least we should have some idea of their location. How soon can we get there?”

  Agnus looked up. I don’t know whether he was calculating or praying. “I’d say, staying at full-throttle, about five minutes, but they will be on the move for sure. The helos will get there in about two and use water-penetrating radar to try to spot them.”

  Al was taking this all in. “I know Ground Penetrating Radar (GPR) will work for fresh water, but I thought it didn’t work for salt water?”

  Agnus answered quickly, “It works now. This is some new highly-classified super-cool stuff. The Russians wouldn’t like it too much if they knew we knew exactly where all their subs are at all times. Look, I gotta get back to the wheelhouse. I just wanted to give you the news.”

  “OK, let’s nail these guys.” Then turning to Al, I said, “I wonder how Longford is handling this knockdown?”

  CHAPTER 69

  GOOD NEWS—BAD NEWS

  “Ok, so now what happened?” Longford snapped.

  Shaking, Osborne got off the phone. “They cut a primary and secondary transatlantic cable just off Long Island Sound. It explains our loss of visual. Most transatlantic Internet, phone and a significant part of domestic are down.”

  “This is getting to be quite a day. What’s our response?” Longford turned her gaze to Hager.

  He began. “Madame President, I know we’re under the gun, so-to-speak, but a little explanatory background is necessary here so you have the context to make good decisions.” He paused, awaiting approval.

  “Proceed,” she said—calmer and more focused now. She’d had her share of crises before and knew how to be cool under pressure, despite her previous outbursts.

  Hager began. “It costs us and our European partners between 300 and 500 million dollars to lay a transatlantic cable. There are cable ships specially designed to haul giant spools of cable, slowly drop them and bury them on the ocean floor. It’s quite an amazing operation.”

  Longford interrupted. “I’m sure it’s very cool, but we don’t have time for the editorial. If they bury the cable, how did these bastards get to it?”

  “On account of the ocean depth and mechanical limits, it’s not buried very deep—just enough to hide it visually. With some sophisticated detection equipment, the cables could be, and obviously have been, found and cut.”

  “So we’re screwed or is there a Plan B? Tell me there’s a Plan B.” She was new at this and there was so much to learn. No single human being could master this in a lifetime. That’s why her staff and advisors were so crucial. The average American’s hope is that people like this were smart enough and tough enough to keep them safe.

  Hager continued. “There is some possible good news and some bad news.”

  Longford snapped. “I told you I hate that game. Cut the crap and just lay it out.”

  Hager was in deep now. He had seen combat and he too knew how to be cool under pressure. “It is possible to run Internet and coms through special, very expensive satellites. They cost about a billion apiece. So Congress, in their infinite, near-sighted wisdom, wouldn’t allocate the funds needed for the more expensive hardware.”

  Longford couldn’t help herself. “Those jerks will not even fund the CDC, but kickbacks to the oil companies are still being approved. Go on. Sorry.”

  Well a few years ago, we detected Russian subs snooping around our undersea cables. That really spooked us. So we found the money from one of our ‘special funds’ to put two of these satellites up, just in case.”

  “OK, I’ll bite. So what’s the bad news?”

  “Amazingly, the satellites were just put into stationary orbit two weeks ago. The bad news is that they have not been fully tested or deployed.”

  Longford smiled for the first time that day, but she knew the stress was showing in the dark circles under her eyes. “Clearly this is an emergency. How fast can we get them deployed? Let’s put it another way, fuck the testing and turn the suckers on!”

  CHAPTER 70

  FINDING THE LIGHT

  Our engines slowed as we approached the spot where the cables had been cut. There was no guarantee, in fact it was unlikely, that the submersible with LaSalam and Simpson were still nearby. However, we felt some trepidation, since my previous encounters with these guys were near deadly.

  My mother always said that if you make good decisions, things will work out in the “long run.” The results today may not be what you expected, but the probability edge is that good decisions produce good results and will win out in the end. I don’t know what made me think at that moment about the “long run,” but maybe the frosty mist that chilled my cheeks made me reflect on the decisions I’d made. It’s funny I thought how my clients would often use the l
ong run as a negotiating ploy. They’d say things like, “We’re just starting out, but if you cut us a break, we’ll give you much more business in the long run.” I heard this so often that I would just smile and know better. The long run would never come.

  Yet here we were aboard the Take Down ready to face down some international terrorists. I thought for me, the long run had finally arrived. All my decisions, successes and failures, had led to this point. To be determined was whether the edge would be on our side or would this just be, as they say in poker, a bad beat.

  As these thoughts drifted in and out of my brain, an incredible explosion rocked the ocean surface in front of us. A huge geyser-like gush of water rose fifty feet into the air. Whatever it was, the huge shock produced something like a mini-tidal wave that was upon us in less than a minute. The captain came over the speaker on deck. “All hands brace yourselves for impact!” The wave looked thirty feet high and blocked out the sun as it approached. The wave rocked the ship to port and then hit the Take Down broadside washing over the deck and turning the deck almost ninety degrees to the water. Al and I grabbed the nearest beam, wrapping our arms tightly. But then. . . but then, we were under water. I gasped for air. It was so cool. So cold. I couldn’t breath. I was still under. Which way was up? My lungs were burning.

  When I was maybe ten or twelve, I remembered swimming in a lake in the Berkshires. I swam down until the light above faded and did somersaults underwater until I needed air, but I couldn’t tell which way was up. I swam furiously, moving my arms as fast as I could, but I was going deeper. I began to feel dizzy and stopped moving. I felt like this was it. I was going to die then, but my body began to slowly rise. I was hardly buoyant, since I was a skinny kid with very little body fat. However, it was just enough to give me the direction up. Back then, I began swimming again as hard as I could until my head burst through the water’s surface. I sucked in big gulps of air. Then I just floated on my back until my heartbeat slowed. I stared at the pale blue sky with wisps of clouds drifting by and it was calm.

  Just then, I snapped awake. I realized I had either lost consciousness or just drifted off. The pain in my chest was palpable and I was drifting. Still holding my breath, I raised my head and saw a very faint gray light. I swam toward it. Faster now. No air. Could I make it? Was I alive or dead? I couldn’t feel anything.

  CHAPTER 71

  THE CUB IS DEAD

  Eskabar tapped another button on his keyboard and looked up from his computer screen. “It is done,” he said in a low solemn voice.

  “It had to be done,” the Leopard said. “My brother served Allah and has been taken by him to heaven.”

  Eskabar had known driven men and cold-hearted men in his fifty-six years. However, he never met a man who held both such qualities to such an extreme. He couldn’t help himself. “Sire, I mean only the highest respect, but was there no other way to save him?”

  “My dear Eskabar, this chess game is very complex and perhaps several levels above your intelligence. Sometimes you have to sacrifice a knight to capture a queen. My brother was a valiant knight, but I am the chess master. I have to think several moves ahead. We could not afford his being captured or compromised by our opponents. Besides, with any luck, we may have taken out that pesky computer geek and his partner. You wisely installed a destruction device in the submersible. Part of me regrets losing my brother, whom I loved almost as much as Allah. But unlike Abraham who brought his son Isaac into the tent as a sacrifice to God, I had to carry out the deed.” LaSalam seemed to be in some kind of trance as he explained his actions, but then his face reddened and his hands began to shake. “And if you ever, ever question my actions again, you will join my brother. Yet you will go to a much darker place and your family will join you there.”

  Eskabar’s face turned ashen for the second time that day. He felt like he might throw up, but he choked it back. He would not risk a third strike with this dangerous man. No, he must not.

  “Meet me here tomorrow at 9:00 AM. Then we can plan our next steps to destroy these bastards.” The Leopard turned and walked out. As he left, without turning around, he raised his right hand in a backhand wave. Eskabar silently wished he would never return.

  CHAPTER 72

  BACKSTROKE

  I broke through the surface of the choppy sea and sucked in air as if it was my first breath. I suppose in a way it was. Treading water, I circled 360 degrees to look for the ship, for help, for anything. The chop in the water kept obscuring my vision. As I bobbed up and down, the swells kept splashing the cold water in my eyes. Finally, I spotted the Take Down, maybe 100 yards to the west. I waved my arms frantically while kicking my feet harder to stay above water. So cold. My shoulder and leg throbbed with pain from my wounds. How could they possibly see me in this gray water with my gray soaked clothes? Was there anyone still on board? OK. OK, I had to think.

  My shoes. I realized I was still wearing my shoes. As I kicked, they pulled against the water, straining my leg muscles. Get the shoes off. I pushed my big toe against the back of each shoe and pushed hard, harder and finally got the shoes off. OK, I could move and kicked my legs more easily. So swim. But breathing was hard. My asthma was kicking in with the cold inside and outside my lungs. OK, backstroke. Elementary backstroke. Easier on the arms and legs and I could breathe. I finally began to calm down and get into a rhythm, lifting and turning my head periodically to make sure I was still pointed toward the ship. I could smell the strong, salty sea air but could hardly feel my limbs. The cold had made them numb, but I was still moving. Stroke, stroke, stroke. One more. Keep going. How long had I been swimming? The Take Down still looked far away. I just kept going. It was swim or die. It was so cold now that I felt like I might not even know if I died. I could just drift into an icy unconsciousness. My limbs still stroking but slower and slower until . . .

  I felt something pulling under my arms. I was being lifted. My back hit hard rubber and then I was flopped like a big fish over the side of the Zodiac rescue boat. Soaked and dripping wet, I looked up to see Al. She was looking down at me, smiling.

  “Nice swim?” she said.

  I was freezing, both numb and in pain at the same time (is that possible?), but I had to smile back. “A bit chilly for my taste,” I mumbled, shaking uncontrollably. The crewman, Bob, ripped off my shirt and threw a scratchy wool blanket around me. You could smell the wet wool that had probably been in mothballs. It felt great. Al handed me some warm liquid from a thermos. I don’t know what it was, but I could feel it go all the way down. My head slowly began to clear. Feeling was starting to come back to my fingers and limbs and then intense tingling, like when your foot falls asleep and you try to get up and walk on it. “What the hell happened?”

  “Now that’s a good question. We figure either they blew themselves up—a suicide bomb—or somebody on their side took them out. We checked with command and it wasn’t our guys who did it. I was worried. We almost lost you there,” she said.

  “I appreciate that. When you’re so close to death for so long, it’s beyond worry. First, it’s about survival. Then your mind does tricks on you. It somehow changes you—maybe forever, but I’m still processing it. I thought you fell in with me. At least, I think that’s what I remember. What happened to you?”

  “I was a little luckier than you were. When the Take Down listed so much, I guess a line on the deck must have slipped into the water beside me. I grabbed it and got pulled back aboard pretty quickly. The shock waves from the explosion just seemed to carry you away. By the time I got back aboard and looked out to sea, you we’re gone, baby, gone.” Her voice just drifted off into the ocean.

  “You know I once made a study of powerful questions. Questions that lead to action or provoke the brain into deep thought. You know what my favorite question is that I came up with?”

  “What?” she said.

  “That was one of them.” I smirked. “No my favorite question, one I might even put on my tombstone, really applie
s now.”

  She sighed. “OK, now you’re killing me, what is it?”

  “So now what?” I said.

  CHAPTER 73

  MONICA

  Once I warmed up and could walk and talk almost normally again, Chief Thomas handed me a cell phone. I had to call Monica at home. Oh, but she could not be home. Was she OK? I was so focused on the chase and myself, I wasn’t even thinking about Monica and Evan. Was there something wrong with me?

  “Hi Monica. Are you OK?”

  “What? I’m fine for now. But what about you? They called to tell me you were lost at sea, but they were searching. What happened?”

  “It’s a long story, but I am all right. I don’t know how I got into all this. I’m just an ordinary guy. Maybe a little smarter than average, but…”

  “You’re way smarter than average, but your problem is you think you can solve any problem and you don’t know how to say, ‘No.’ Sometimes it’s better just to walk away and let other people handle things. Most of the time things will work out. Sometimes things will get screwed up. But you can’t personally fix the world’s problems. And there’s us. What about your family? We’re stuck in this supposed ‘safe house.’ Evan can only play so many video games. He can’t even call or text his friends. When does this end?”

  “Sweetheart, I don’t like it either. I mean I almost died. But I feel like somehow I started this and maybe I can help save us all. I’ve got to finish it.”

  “Fine. You almost died. That’s supposed to make me feel better or feel guilty for hating what this is doing to us. Which is it? I almost died when that nut job came to the house. The two agents there did die. All I know is that I’ve supported you in all your cockeyed schemes for twenty-five years. I don’t know how much more of this Evan and I can take. Just get done with this. Get us out of here or we’re done.” The line went dead. I felt numb all over again.