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Apocalypse

Page 34

by Dean Crawford


  Dennis moved to a computer terminal beside the control panel and opened up a software package. He sat down and began methodically going through the camera’s scenes one by one and noting specific times, scribbling them on the inside of his palm with a pen. The work took him almost half an hour, but when he was done he shut the display off and leaned back in his chair, his mind haunted both by what he had seen and what he knew he must now do.

  ‘Dennis!’

  Aubrey shot upright, a lightning bolt of fear shuddering through him as Joaquin strode into the control room. ‘What news?’

  ‘Has the governor gone?’

  Dennis Aubrey watched as Joaquin approached. Olaf lumbered in behind him, wearing a shoulder holster with black straps that stretched across his broad chest. A heavy-looking 9mm pistol nestled under his left arm.

  ‘They’re on their way back to Miami,’ Joaquin replied and then rubbed his hands together. ‘There’s no longer a man among them who will oppose us. Now, where is that camera?’

  Aubrey pointed to where the camera sat on the panel beside him. He waited for Joaquin to join him at the panel.

  ‘How long is the recording?’ Joaquin asked, his eyes wide and sparkling with uncontained delight.

  Aubrey took a deep breath. ‘Just over four thousand hours.’

  ‘Four thousand hours?’ Joaquin echoed in wonder. ‘That must be . . .’

  ‘Six months, give or take. Six months of the future, as viewed through the lens of this camera.’

  ‘Play it!’ Joaquin almost shouted. ‘I want to see it, all of it, on the big screen over there!’

  Aubrey unplugged one of the jacks on the panel before him and then plugged it into a different feed. Instantly, one of the large plasma screens lit up. Aubrey reached out and pressed play.

  Joaquin gasped as an image of the hub itself appeared, one of the news channels on the screens viewed through the camera’s lens from within the black-hole chamber. Almost immediately, in front of the portal through which it gazed, the face of Charles Purcell appeared. The scientist gazed into the lens and then vanished. Moments later, the camera backed away from the portal and began moving along its track within the chamber, brief flares of blue-white energy flickering around the edges of the screen.

  ‘This was when Charles Purcell retrieved the camera,’ Dennis said. ‘This is the past.’

  ‘From yesterday,’ Joaquin said. ‘Forward it to the future!’

  Aubrey span the recording forward and watched as the camera was hastily packed into a bag that was sealed shut. Blackness enveloped the screen. Aubrey span the timeline forward and all they saw was hours of blackness. He felt a little current of joy as Joaquin raised his hands to his head.

  ‘What’s he done?!’ he wailed in despair.

  Dennis remained silent, spinning the footage forward further. Moments later, the image returned. Aubrey’s joy withered as he saw a modern family lounge, the immaculate carpets splattered with blood. The inert bodies of a blonde woman and a young girl dominated the scene. Joaquin fell silent.

  ‘His house,’ Olaf said without apparent emotion. ‘He found their bodies. He must have arrived moments after I left.’

  ‘He knew you were there,’ Joaquin realized, ‘and what time you would give up waiting for him and leave. He must have filmed the scene as some kind of evidence.’

  Aubrey remained silent despite the fact that his blood seemed to be running cold now through his veins. He watched as Charles Purcell walked with the camera across the lounge and picked up a framed picture of himself standing with his wife and daughter, the glass of the frame thick with smeared blood. Purcell would have known that the camera had already seen this future whilst alongside the black hole’s event-horizon, the information stored on its hard drive. Even if he had turned the camera off in horror or disgust at the sight of his slaughtered family, the camera would still have harbored the horrific imagery.

  But Charles, ever cautious, was taking no chances.

  ‘This is still the past,’ Joaquin shouted. ‘I want the future!’

  ‘You already have it,’ Aubrey said, and pointed to a different screen before playing the feed from one of the other cameras, which he’d retrieved from the chamber earlier. ‘The news, Joaquin, from tomorrow. I pulled it from the chamber just a half-hour ago.’

  Joaquin glanced at the screen and saw an anchor from Robert Murtaugh’s news station speaking silently to the camera. Beneath her, the scrolling text revealed the nature of the story.

  IRIS AWARDED FRESH CONTRACT BY CONGRESS TO REBUILD DOMINICAN REPUBLIC PROVINCE: IRIS CEO PROMISES ALL $250 MILLION TO ‘PEOPLE ON THE GROUND’

  Aubrey watched as the image switched from the anchor to the devastated shore of Puerto Plata, and a still image of Joaquin Abell appeared in the top-right corner of the shot. A reporter on the scene stood in front of an IRIS helicopter as food parcels, medicines and blankets were unloaded by personnel into waiting trucks.

  Joaquin’s face creased into a smile of deep satisfaction.

  ‘Good work, Dennis,’ he said. ‘Our future is assured. Now, show me what happens here in the control room. Olaf brought the camera back here, so it must have seen what happens to us today. I want to know exactly what occurs here in the next few hours.’

  Dennis shut off the newsfeed camera and sped the frames forward on Charles Purcell’s recovered camera. A blur of light whizzed past the screen, then he slowed it carefully as he watched the digital time display. An image of the IRIS hub once again appeared, but this time Joaquin was standing with a pistol in his hand, alongside Olaf and several armed guards. And before them was Ethan Warner and Nicola Lopez, their hands in the air and every gun in the hub pointing at them as they stood beside the black-hole chamber, the outer hatch open.

  ‘So,’ Joaquin smirked. ‘The two detectives decide to pay us a visit, do they?’ He turned to Dennis Aubrey. ‘Pray, Dennis, show us what happens to them both, if you will?’

  Dennis carefully span the recording by several minutes, the images flashing past in a blur of color, then returned it to normal speed and looked up as the screen showed an image of Joaquin and Olaf watching as the black-hole chamber flared with bright bursts of energy and light that flickered out into the control room through the narrow portals. The two men were laughing, and Joaquin was clapping the big man on his huge shoulder.

  Joaquin smirked and looked over his shoulder at Aubrey.

  ‘Excellent, Dennis. Perhaps we should prepare for our guests’ arrival? Olaf! Ready our men to welcome Ethan Warner and Nicola Lopez on their one-way trip to oblivion!’

  57

  FLORIDA STRAITS

  June 28, 19:54

  ‘I thought we were going to be sneaking up on Joaquin?’ Ethan Warner had to shout at Jarvis, even though he was wearing earphones against the noise from the MH-60S Sea Hawk’s twin turboshaft engines. The helicopter was flying low over the ocean, skimming the waves that Ethan could see glittering with gold through the open fuselage door. The door was guarded by a serious-looking marine wearing wraparound sunglasses and manning an M-60D machine gun, the last glow of the setting sun glinting off the metal barrel.

  ‘The aircraft carrier USS Nimitz is heading off for operations in the Pacific,’ Jarvis explained. ‘Helicopter Sea Combat Squadron 6 here are conducting work-up exercises in this area before deploying with the carrier wing. Perfect cover to get you and Lopez into position, right where we need you.’

  Beside Ethan sat Katherine, her features drawn and tired. Lopez, her long black hair trembling with the engine vibrations and the wind blowing in through the open door, gestured to the six marines checking their weapons at the back of the helicopter.

  ‘Don’t suppose there’s any chance we could have a detachment of troops drop down there with us? Joaquin’s likely to have protection and he probably knows that we’re coming.’

  Jarvis shook his head.

  ‘The fewer people know about this, the better. We’re cleared to use the marines to get us
aboard Joaquin’s yacht using reasonable force, but beyond that we’re on our own. A major military dive operation wouldn’t go unnoticed, but a quick insertion onto the yacht should be simple enough. You said that none of the Event Horizon’s crew appeared armed.’

  ‘Not the last time we were there,’ Ethan said. ‘And there were definitely submersibles aboard, large ones.’

  ‘Okay,’ Jarvis said. ‘This is how it goes down. This helicopter will make a tactical descent and drop a platoon of marines aboard the Event Horizon to overpower the crew, whilst the helicopter jams any communications using the onboard ALQ-144 Infrared Jammer. You’ll go aboard with the marines, who’ll hold the yacht until you’ve done your job.’

  ‘Which will be what?’ Ethan asked.

  ‘To get down there, find out what Joaquin Abell is doing and put a stop to it. Your primary mission is the recovery of the camera that Charles Purcell carried with him before he died. Your secondary mission is to find solid, court-admissible proof that Joaquin Abell is guilty of the crimes he’s committed, and bring him to justice.’

  Katherine Abell looked up.

  ‘I don’t want him to be hurt,’ she said, speaking for the first time since they’d taken off. ‘He’s innocent until proven guilty.’

  ‘He’s a criminal, ma’am,’ Jarvis replied. ‘We already have proof that he’s guilty, but it’s not the kind that can be brought into the public sphere, due to national security. Ethan and Nicola are capable of taking Joaquin into custody if he is willing to go quietly.’

  ‘And if he resists?’ Katherine asked.

  Jarvis reached out to a metal lock-up box beside him, opened it and retrieved two Sig 9mm pistols and four flash-bang grenades. He shared them out to Ethan and Lopez, along with two spare magazines each.

  Katherine watched the exchange and then closed her eyes, but she said nothing.

  ‘You haven’t got anything with a little more punch?’ Lopez asked.

  ‘We’re not sure how the facility that Joaquin has built is pressurized,’ Jarvis explained. ‘You go in there with heavy weapons, you might end up taking yourselves down.’

  Ethan checked the mechanism on his pistol and set the safety catch before slipping the weapon into the shoulder holster he’d been given earlier. The holster lay beneath a harness that he wore, which was connected to metal clasps and thick rappel wires hooked to the helicopter’s metal-plated floor. Lopez did the same, and they both watched as a red light began flashing in the interior of the helicopter. One of the marines pulled open another fuselage door and windblast buffeted through the interior.

  ‘Ten seconds,’ Jarvis shouted.

  The marines all hooked their clasps up to the rappel lines and took up positions either side of the fuselage. Ethan and Lopez got to their feet and each joined the end of a queue. The Sea Hawk’s attitude changed as it slowed and pitched up, and the thumping rotors hammered the air outside as the sea churned with spray beneath them.

  All at once Ethan saw the elegant yacht hove into view beneath them and glimpsed a pair of crewmen staring up and pointing at the gray helicopter as it thundered overhead. Suddenly the machine slowed to a hover above the yacht’s fantail.

  Instantly the marines leapt one after the other and spiraled down the wires with their rifles aiming below them, ready to fire at anybody attempting to oppose their boarding of the yacht.

  Ethan followed the last marine out, his gloved hands guiding him down the rappel line. Opposite, he saw Lopez matching his descent with her customary gusto, as though she too had done this a dozen times before in war zones. They thumped down onto the deck as the platoon lieutenant shouted orders to stunned crewmen standing with their hands in the air nearby.

  ‘Get down! Down, down, down!’

  Bodies dropped as though shot, the men totally overwhelmed by the noise, speed and force of the marines’ entry. Ethan followed at a run as the marines swept through the ship toward the bridge, his pistol in his hands but held low to avoid an unintentional discharge. Plastic cuffs were hastily wrapped around shell-shocked crewmen’s wrists and ankles, the gaping staff left prone where they lay until they could be dealt with later. Neutralized.

  The marines burst onto the bridge to corner the yacht’s officers, stopping the captain in mid-protest with the muzzle of an M-16 in his face. Ethan and Lopez stepped onto the bridge even as the marine lieutenant was barking orders to his men while standing over a cowering officer.

  ‘Secure the fore and aft quarters, in pairs! Report in when clear!’

  Ethan looked at the elderly, tall, bearded man bearing the shoulder insignia of a captain, who was standing upright with his chin raised. He stared defiantly down the barrel of the marine’s M-16.

  ‘Where is Joaquin Abell?’ Ethan asked, hoping against hope that he was aboard.

  The captain’s eyes narrowed, refusing to be intimidated by the soldiers.

  ‘Who the hell are you?’

  The platoon lieutenant stepped in for Ethan.

  ‘United States Marines, sir, and this vessel has been seized under the authority of the Admiral of the United States Pacific Fleet.’

  The captain looked down in confusion at the officer.

  ‘This is a private vessel, on humanitarian and conservation duties. What on earth would the admiralty want with us?’

  Ethan judged the man’s disbelief to be genuine.

  ‘We think that IRIS’s humanitarian activities are a shield for criminal enterprise,’ he explained. ‘We require yourself and your crew to stand down and let us investigate. I take it that you possess the coordinates to Joaquin Abell’s facility on the seafloor?’

  The captain frowned.

  ‘Yes, but it’s just a coral-reef observation hub,’ he said. ‘There’s nothing much down there. I’ve seen it.’

  Ethan smiled grimly.

  ‘I doubt very much that the place you were taken to was the same one that Joaquin has been concealing from the eyes of the world.’

  ‘Who the hell do you think you are?’ the captain demanded.

  Ethan was about to answer when Katherine Abell strode into the bridge.

  ‘They’re with me,’ she said. ‘And what they’re telling you is true.’

  The captain’s eyes flickered in surprise. He stared at Katherine and then Ethan and Lopez in turn before making his decision. He turned to a subaltern.

  ‘The marines have the bridge,’ he said. ‘Provide them with whatever assistance they require.’

  The subaltern dashed away, accompanied by a soldier, and the captain turned to Katherine.

  ‘Neither the crew nor I know anything about a second facility,’ he said. ‘But Mr. Abell’s armed escort went down with him this morning, with a scientist by the name of Dennis Aubrey.’

  Katherine nodded.

  ‘I only learned of this myself today,’ she assured him. ‘You won’t be detained for long, I’m sure.’

  As the captain and his crew were escorted to their quarters by the marines, Lopez gently took Katherine’s arm.

  ‘Make sure you stay behind us at all times,’ Lopez warned her.

  ‘I’m not an invalid.’

  ‘Nobody’s saying that you are,’ Ethan said. ‘But Joaquin’s already tried to kill you once. This might sound harsh, but you’re our only bargaining chip down there.’

  Katherine glared at Ethan.

  ‘If there’s one thing I’ve realized since all of this began, it’s that my husband is a coward. He isn’t capable of killing for himself so he sends others to do it for him, or uses machines. I doubt very much that he’ll have the cojones to kill me when I’m standing right in front of him. And maybe, if he harbors anything remotely human in that wasted soul of his, I might be able to get him to surrender without a firefight.’

  Jarvis stepped onto the bridge, and looked at Ethan and Lopez.

  ‘The Miami-Dade police gained access to a safety-deposit box registered to Charles Purcell at the First National Bank in Miami,’ he reported.

&
nbsp; ‘Did they find the documents?’ Lopez asked.

  ‘All of them,’ Jarvis confirmed. ‘Joaquin Abell is now officially wanted for fraud, and the trail of evidence will likely lead to charges of conspiracy, blackmail and murder one. If you can get him out of his lair his next stop will be jail, and after that he’ll be on trial.’

  58

  June 28, 19:56

  Ethan clambered down the entry ladder into the deep-submergence vehicle Intrepid and moved toward the cockpit as Lopez and Katherine Abell followed him down into the vessel. Doug Jarvis ducked his head through the hatch and called out.

  ‘We’ll lower the crane as soon as the hatch is sealed. You won’t have communications with the surface due to our jamming of the underwater facility, so you’re on your own.’

  Lopez looked up at the old man.

  ‘Can’t you turn the jamming off now that the yacht’s crew is under watch?’

  ‘We can’t be sure that Joaquin doesn’t have other lines of communication with the shore,’ Jarvis said. ‘All he’d need is transmitters and tethered buoys and he’d be able to call in reinforcements.’

  Ethan scanned the cockpit.

  ‘I can handle these controls,’ he said. ‘There’s enough power in the batteries for the return trip.’

  ‘Understood,’ Jarvis said, and flipped Ethan a serious – if upside down – salute. ‘Good luck.’

  The hatch closed, and Lopez sealed it airtight before taking a seat in the cabin behind Ethan. Katherine squeezed in alongside her and they strapped in, the Intrepid swaying as the yacht’s crane lifted her off the deck and swung her out over the rolling waves. Moments later the hull shuddered as she was lowered into the ocean and the crane detached with an audible clunk.

  Ethan opened the switches to the batteries, turned on the main engines and then pulled a lever on the control panel. The mechanism connecting Intrepid’s own clasps to the deck crane opened and the vessel floated free of the yacht on the rolling surface of the ocean. He grabbed both of the control columns before him and gently guided the vessel away from the yacht’s hull.

 

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