Ninth Cycle Antarctica: A Thriller (A Rossler Foundation Mystery Book 2)

Home > Other > Ninth Cycle Antarctica: A Thriller (A Rossler Foundation Mystery Book 2) > Page 28
Ninth Cycle Antarctica: A Thriller (A Rossler Foundation Mystery Book 2) Page 28

by JC Ryan


  Chapter 31 –Joy At A Memorial Service

  In Boulder, the memorial service had been delayed by the Secret Service insistence that the auditorium be checked one last time for explosives and then setting up only one portable metal detector for the numerous attendees to pass through. Daniel would normally have seethed at the unexpected formalities, but he was too emotionally exhausted to notice it. He’d lost his brother and welcomed his firstborn child into the world in the space of less than two days. Now, the President of the United States had asked to speak at the memorial service. It was too much to comprehend, and he was operating on automatic.

  Sarah, holding little Nicholas in a sling that tied over her shoulder was in better shape, and that was in spite of taking all wake-up calls since the baby had been born herself. She reasoned that Daniel couldn’t nurse the baby anyway, and he was taking the burden of all the repercussions of the failed expedition. Beside Sarah, her parents on one side and Daniel’s on the other were a solid barrier against the crowds crushing her and the baby.

  Nicholas Rossler was already seated, with a wan Bess newly discharged from the hospital unable to stand for long. Sarah knew that Sinclair and Martha were at her back, though she didn’t turn to look at them. As well-wishers filed past on their way to passing through the metal detector, she graciously greeted those who ventured to speak to her or offer their condolences. Sarah was a popular figure, not only locally in Boulder and within the Foundation, but nationally since her ordeal during the Pyramid Code search had been revealed.

  Daniel appeared at her side to tell her that there was some sort of delay in the President’s party again. Sarah examined his face, beloved by her like no other. Tears formed in her eyes as she cataloged the toll the past few days had taken on him. His eyes were red, deep bags hanging from the lower lids. If she hadn’t known his age, she’d have taken him for ten years older. If only he would allow her to comfort him, but he couldn’t get past the notion that he’d sent JR to his death. It was killing him, and the knowledge was killing her. Only little Nick could tease a smile from either of them. At last, a Secret Service agent came to them to tell them that all was in readiness. Daniel was on first. After reading the obituaries of the members, he would sit down and the President would have his say. After that, the family representative of each of the deceased would have an opportunity to eulogize their loved one, though not all had accepted. Daniel would go last with JR’s eulogy and final remarks. Of course, there would be no processional to the cemetery, no graveside service, since the remains were entombed in Antarctica at least until next fall. The Rossler and Clark families took their places last, with Martha and Sinclair tagging along because Sarah insisted that they were family.

  Daniel had ordered an organ to be installed in the auditorium for the music he’d chosen. The soft strains of ‘Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring’ were playing as he took the stage and stood behind the podium. The organist expertly ended the piece early, lowering the volume so that it faded away before Daniel began to speak.

  “Six months ago, we sent friends, colleagues and loved ones on a journey of discovery. To my everlasting regret, only a few returned. We thank God for the safe return of those who left the expedition early, and acknowledge their grief that they survived when their colleagues did not. Although he isn’t here, we also thank Mikhail Stefanovich Maxhulin for his heroic efforts to rescue the trapped expedition, and also return thanks that he made it safely back to base with news of the disaster. His ordeal in doing so was devastating to his health, so he is not here today, though he sent word that he wished to be. In addition, we thank the US military establishments’ joint efforts to recover the remains of our loved ones. The Rossler Foundation pledges to accomplish that mission as soon as it is practical to do so without risking more lives in the effort. I will now read the obituaries of the deceased.”

  Daniel bowed his head for a moment, overcome with the burden of what he was about to do. A commotion in front of him and to the right made him look up with a frown. In the front row, a seated President Harper was listening to a Secret Service agent who whispered urgently into his ear. A wave of apprehension went through Daniel as he rapidly scanned the crowd, looking for the threat. He looked back just in time to see President Harper jump to his feet.

  “Daniel!” he called, a look of joy on his face. Confused, Daniel froze. The President was striding to the podium, the audience beginning to buzz with whispered questions. He gathered Daniel’s body for a hug, causing the audience to buzz even louder. President Harper kept one arm around Daniel’s shoulders as he grasped the microphone and pulled it lower to make an announcement.

  “Daniel, ladies and gentlemen. I have wonderful news. Six members of the expedition have just been confirmed alive and well at the South Pole.” His voice was drowned out by shouts from the audience, accompanied by loud weeping. As he used both hands to quell the noise with a downward motion, his face sobered. “I’m sorry to say that all remaining members besides these six have now been confirmed dead by the survivors. Please hold your displays of emotion as I read the names of the survivors. To the families who won’t be receiving good news, my deepest condolences. The survivors are, in alphabetical order: Angela Brown.” In spite of his request, a shriek from the second row went up as Angela’s mother, unable to contain herself, reacted to the news that her daughter was alive. Daniel held his breath. At this rate, he’d die of lack of oxygen before the President got to the R’s.

  “Robert Cartwright,” the President intoned, to a muffled scream from behind Sarah’s row. “Rebecca Mendenhall.” Daniel saw Sarah clap her hand over her mouth to suppress her cry, but from further back more screams let him know where Rebecca’s parents and sister sat. “JR Rossler.” At this, a cheer went up as Daniel’s extended family jumped to their feet and began laughing, crying and hugging. His relief was so great that he could only let the tears fall from his cheeks unchecked, unable to speak or utter a sound.

  Despite his joy that his brother was alive, Daniel still felt enormous grief and responsibility for the others, those who didn’t make it. “Cyndi Self.” By now, the President had slowed his delivery to accommodate the cries of joy after each name. There was one name left, Daniel realized. He held his breath again. “Charles Summers.” At this, Daniel staggered to a chair behind him and collapsed into it. Summers was a newer friend, but a good one. Daniel was very glad that he was among the survivors.

  In the audience, only one family huddled together in tears. Bart’s people, brought from Louisiana by Daniel’s generosity, mourned that his name hadn’t been called. LeClerc had no family; Carmen’s family had declined the invitation, sending Antonio as their representative, and the families of those who had died earlier had accepted their loss weeks before and knew that their names wouldn’t be called. Misty’s family hadn’t been traced. Daniel and the FBI thought she was probably using an assumed name and might not even be American. Everyone else in the audience was celebrating, and the noise was insurmountable. The President would have liked to make a few extemporaneous remarks, but he couldn’t make himself heard even with the microphone. He walked over to Daniel and grasped his shoulder.

  “I’m happy for you, Daniel. We’re going to slip out now. When you get them back home, let me know if you’re going to throw a party. The First Lady and I could use a good excuse to party before this year’s campaign consumes us.” He gave Daniel a smile and a thumbs up, and then returned to his seat to collect his wife.

  For a moment, Daniel remained where he was. Even though he was exhausted and overwhelmed, he needed to be with his family. He left the stage, dimly recognizing the music the organ was now playing as the recessional from his and Sarah’s wedding. Trumpet Voluntary or something, he thought, though it seemed to be going a lot faster today. Then his mother was in his arms, sobbing her joy into his chest as his dad pounded him on the back. They acted as if he were the hero, when he knew somehow that JR was.

  He’d get the story later, all that
was important was that he had his brother back. His other brother, Aaron appeared behind their mother and wrapped both of them in a hug. Finally, Daniel looked up to meet Sarah’s eyes, wet with her own tears of joy. He reached his hand out to her, unable to extricate himself from the group hug that Aaron was still holding. She took his hand and kissed it. “I’m so glad, Daniel. So very glad.”

  Chapter 32 – Andersen Wants To See You

  Summers woke JR before he went to bed himself and told him to be prepared to be interviewed by Andersen. JR knew that he was the best person to ask about the OS raid, but he also knew that if a military officer were involved, ‘interrogated’ might be a better word. He went to Rebecca’s door and knocked softly.

  “Becca, are you awake?”

  “No,” she answered.

  “Oh, sorry.”

  “Don’t be an idiot JR. Of course I’m awake. Come in.”

  JR opened the door and slipped in, looking down both ends of the hall as he did. He turned around and promptly lost his train of thought. Becca was sitting up in bed, the sheets drawn up under her arms because if her shoulders were any indication, she was naked underneath. As he fought to close his mouth, which had dropped at the sight of her, she realized his difficulty.

  “They didn’t have anything but boxers for me to sleep in,” she apologized. “All of us girls are out of luck in the jammies department.” She raked her eyes over him, shirtless himself. Damn, if she’d known he looked that good… “What is it, JR?”

  “Summers just told me that Andersen is going to interrogate me. Would you go with me? To back me up?” His anxiety was off the charts, but he thought he’d made it sound casual enough. Her face softened.

  “Sure, JR. I’ll go with you if you like. And if he’ll allow it. But don’t worry, I know you’ll tell the truth, and my story will back yours up. Are you concerned that he’ll ask you about Carmen?”

  She’d hit the nail on the head. She was the only one there who had seen what happened, and it was all so fast. He never would have put Carmen in that position if he’d known. OS or no OS, it wasn’t in his code of conduct to use a woman to shelter him. He’d just meant for her to be an element of surprise. That fucker Pyotr had shot first, didn’t even give Carmen a chance to ask for help. He was never going to forget the sound of Becca’s scream, or his reflex that had taken Pyotr out a second later. And he wasn’t sure Becca would ever get over having a woman shot down just yards in front of her. If she never spoke to him again when they got back, it wouldn’t be a surprise to him.

  But he had more to worry about than that. It was only their word that he hadn’t killed Carmen. With his PTSD diagnosis and a reputation for hair-trigger violence, could he actually be in legal trouble? His only hope was that Becca would stand by him, back him up.

  “Yeah, I guess I am. Concerned about the Carmen incident. You know I wouldn’t have wanted it that way, right Becca?” Before her eyes, the handsome, manly face melted into the little boy he must have been. Her heart lurched.

  “Of course I know that, Josh. You’re a good man. A little damaged around the edges maybe, but fundamentally good. Don’t worry. It happened fast, but I’m clear on it. That OS guy, Pyotr shot her in cold blood, and you shot him in self-defense. You have nothing to worry about. Come here.”

  Mutely, he obeyed her command.

  “Have you forgotten what I said to you in that cave? I admire you, and I’m beyond grateful that you were there to save our lives. My life.”

  “Becca, I’ll never forget that as long as I live,” he breathed.

  She crooked her finger at him to get him to lean over, then put her arms around his neck and pulled him further down for a long-overdue kiss, not knowing or not caring that she was no longer clutching the blanket. JR closed his eyes as the blanket began to slip. He didn’t think she’d want him to see, and the kiss was amazing even with his eyes closed. He sank to his knees beside the bed, more comfortable there than leaning over her from his height. His arms went around her, his fingertips tingling at the touch of her soft skin. For a moment, he forgot everything—where they were, what had happened in that cave, even the nightmare that seldom left his thoughts. Becca was kissing him! If there were never any more, he’d die happy from that one kiss, he thought. His body thought otherwise, but what might have happened next would never be known.

  Only a sharp rap at the door made them break it off, Becca grabbing at the blanket quickly enough that he only got the barest glimpse of perfect breasts before she was covered again.

  JR stepped to the door to open it. Outside was an enlisted man who requested that JR follow him to the commander’s office.

  “Mind if I get dressed first?” JR drawled, shifting to keep the soldier from looking in at Becca.

  “No, sir. That will be fine, sir.”

  JR stepped outside, hearing Becca call that she’d be ready to go with him when he passed by her door again, just knock. JR grinned as he led the way down the hall to his room. Maybe he would have a chance with her when they got home, after all. If he didn’t blow it in the meantime. He vowed to keep his cool.

  The following day, one of the big Pave Low choppers from McMurdo dropped out of a calm sky to pick them up and take them to an aircraft carrier that was standing by off Scott Island, between McMurdo and New Zealand. From there, another chopper would take them to Christchurch, from whence they would retrace their outbound flight to eventually arrive home. They’d say goodbye to Robert for the time being at Christchurch, since he’d head home to Sydney instead of returning to Boulder with them.

  They’d see him again soon, no later than October, hopefully, when they mounted the next expedition to explore the valley, which they’d named Paradise Valley in a flight of fantasy. Summers was convinced that the script on the cave wall plus the organized layout of the paths through the jungle had to mean previous human habitation. They’d surely find the ruins they were expecting if they had time to explore every inch of the valley, with the right team and equipment the next time.

  ~~~

  By the time the remaining expedition members were setting foot on the carrier, the news of their survival had reached all points of the globe. Maxhulin, otherwise known as Roosky, had prudently retrieved his hard currency from its hiding place and booked a flight to South America. The surviving members of the expedition must have put two and two together, he reflected. It was too bad. Tovarich JR, good drinking partner, but dangerous to the health of one Roosky Maxhulin. One thing he wouldn’t be doing under any circumstances was attending a quarterly meeting of the Orion Society at the end of the month.

  In Würzburg, Septentrio was throwing the temper tantrum to end all tantrums. And indeed, it did end his, as he suffered a stroke during a particularly strenuous game of flog the slave. His manservant, a new one who’d replaced the one who was playing the role of the slave in the game, made a discreet call to Latet, who ordered him to stand by. Latet contacted Auster, who sent a doctor to see to Septentrio. All of Würzburg mourned the passing of the prominent businessman, so soon after his father’s unfortunate passing.

  To make it even more unfortunate, he’d left no immediate heir, being a lifelong confirmed bachelor. A distant cousin was found to be the heir to the family fortune. She was sent for and installed in the ancient mansion that was the family seat.

  “Mother, I’m here. We’ll need to find a suitable match so I can start a family immediately.”

  “Of course, dear. Have you given any thought to your ceremonial name?” Auster replied.

  “I don’t see why I shouldn’t keep the old one, just replace the final letter with an ‘a’. How does Septentria sound?”

  “Lovely, my dear, lovely. I’ll have my response to the Rossler Foundation debacle ready for the quarterly meeting. Go ahead and open the meeting, introduce yourself, and then turn the meeting over to me.”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  Chapter 33 – Nicholas Joshua Rossler

  The celebration in Boulder
when the remainder of the expedition returned home was echoed in Denver and in Washington, DC. But the facts of the miraculous escape were suppressed, so that only those with a need to know would hear of the wondrous tropical valley hidden in the Transantarctic Mountains. Cartwright had been sworn to secrecy except for a report to his government as well. Eventually, it would be revealed to the world, as the Rosslers had always intended for research coming out of the 10th Cycle Library. However, as with any new and convention-shattering knowledge, it had to be analyzed for potential misuse by criminal or terrorist organizations. In this case, a new expedition would have to be mounted.

  Before meetings could be held, the returning expedition members endured speeches, parades and dinners in their honor, both public and separately among their families. The Rossler-Clarke family celebration was one of the larger, with the extended family and friends who were considered family all attending, along with an exuberant President Harper and his First Lady.

  Baby Nicholas almost stole the limelight, though. Rebecca couldn’t get enough of holding him. It wasn’t until he overheard her praising his actions in delivering them from the OS threat inside the mountain that JR began to perk up. He positively glowed when he heard her say, “He’s really rather dashing, isn’t he, Sarah? I never realized how good-looking he is, or how sweet. And I think it may have gone a long way toward resolving his PTSD”

  JR didn’t hear Sarah’s answer, and it didn’t matter anyway. He didn’t think you could actually cure PTSD, only learn to live with the flashbacks, the impotent anger and the depression. But, having a reason to learn to live with it went a long way toward making him fit company for human beings. And the reason he had was at that moment dandling his nephew on her knee and looking so delectable.

 

‹ Prev