Submerged

by Alton Gansky

“Protection from what?” Cynthia asked. “Bears?”

  “It never hurts to be prepared.” Sanders pointed at the three. “McDermott, Sanchez, and Buckley.”

  “Sounds like a law firm,” Zeisler quipped.

  Grant shivered. “I don’t want to know the kind of law they practice. What now?”

  Sanders looked at Nash.

  “All clear,” Nash said.

  Since Nash hadn’t been out of Henry’s sight since they left Tonopah, he assumed that Nash had been in radio contact with the “others” Sanders had mentioned. Henry couldn’t resist looking around for those whom he knew were in the shadows and behind trees.

  “Tallyho,” Sanders said. “Take the lead, Mr. Nash.”

  Nash did, starting down the grade. The man called McDermott followed, his weapon pointed down and to the side. Henry watched as he moved through the foliage. His head moved constantly. Vietnam, Henry thought. The man looks like he’s on patrol.

  Sanders followed. Henry looked at the others and at the two remaining guards. They didn’t move. “I guess we’re the middle of the Oreo cookie,” Henry said and followed Sanders.

  “Are there snakes out here?” Cynthia asked as she stepped behind Henry. “I hate snakes . . . and mice . . . I hate mice, too.”

  “What about scorpions?” Zeisler asked.

  “I’ve dated a few,” Cynthia said.

  Henry laughed. The woman had a sense of humor.

  Their boots—something Sanders had insisted they bring—dug into the loose soil. Several times Henry felt his footing give way but was able to avoid a fall. Grant had not been so lucky. As they descended into the valley, Cynthia fell forward twice, each time catching herself on Henry’s shoulders.

  “You want me to carry you down?” Henry joked.

  “No way. I’m a liberated seventies woman. I’ll let you carry me back up, however.”

  “So you’re only partially liberated?”

  “Sometimes it is better to be smart than liberated.”

  Zeisler grumbled. “Let’s hope we get a chance to walk back up. I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

  Henry didn’t say it, but he felt the same way.

  It took forty minutes to work through the brush and descend to the valley floor. Nash turned right and walked another fifty yards, then stopped and waited for the others. The descent had been taxing but not overly so. Henry’s breathing was deeper and more rapid, but he didn’t feel exhausted. He watched the rest of the team. They looked more wearied by the hike. The trip back up would be ten times worse.

  They had gathered in a small clearing at the foot of the slope. Henry studied the area. It appeared untouched, unmolested by humans. He searched for footprints, but even those were absent. He had the sense that they were the first ones here in a very long time, yet he knew that couldn’t be the case. Whatever they were to examine had to have been discovered by someone . . . and recently. That meant that someone had taken the time to mask any sign of visitors to the locale.

  Nash lowered his backpack and unstrapped the short-handled shovels. He handed one to McDermott, who took it without a word. McDermott in turn handed his CAR-15 to Sanders. Sanders took it like a man who had held such weapons before.

  Nash and McDermott walked a few yards away until they were standing in a twenty-by-twenty clearing covered in dirt and pine needles. Henry watched as Nash sent the blade of the shovel into the dirt. McDermott did the same. For fifteen minutes, they moved the ground one shovelful at a time. Then they stood back. Nash was breathing hard, McDermott less so. Working at a higher altitude was difficult for those used to living at sea level.

  Nash eyed Sanders, who nodded and approached. Sanders returned McDermott’s weapon; McDermott took it and yielded his spot. Henry watched as each man removed a key from his pocket and knelt down. Henry took a couple of steps closer and to the side to better see what his two hosts were doing. He saw a round hatch similar to a manhole cover but larger by a third. On the hatch was a large lock with a place for two keys. Sanders turned his key to the left; Nash twisted his to the right, then in unison, they turned both keys inward. The latch gave way, and Sanders rose and stepped away. Henry could see lettering on the cover: danger! high voltage.

  The lock was removed from the hasp. A metal handle was welded just above the latch. Nash seized it and pulled. The metal hatch swung open without noise. It too was new, Henry decided.

  “We’re not going down that, are we?” Cynthia asked.

  Sanders smiled. “The high-voltage warning is just an added measure of security. No need to fear.”

  “I assumed that. I’m just not big on confined spaces,” she explained.

  “You’ll do fine,” Sanders said.

  “Easy for you to say.”

  Sanders looked at the engineers. “Well, folks, it’s time to change your world.” He nodded at Nash, who stepped to the opening, sat on the dirt, and hung his feet into the dark maw. He wiggled forward, his head down. Henry couldn’t see down the hatch, but Nash’s body motion gave the impression that he was stretching for a foothold. He must have found it because he leaned forward, took hold of something, and began to descend. McDermott followed.

  “Who would like the next honor?” Sanders asked.

  “I’ll go.” Henry started toward the opening. He stood at its edge and spotted a ladder of stainless steel attached to a metal sleeve that formed the walls of the conduit. “Down, down, down the rabbit hole.” Like Nash, he sat, reached for the ladder, and started down into the darkness.

  Perry stood on the side of the road, ten yards in front of the Hummer. Jack, Gleason, and Zeisler waited in the car, giving him a private moment. Before him was the road that led up the mountain pass. In the distance, he could see a cell phone tower, the last one in the area, according to Dr. Zeisler. Perry knew that Gleason had packed an Iridium satellite phone and had no reason to doubt that it would work where cell phones didn’t. Since the satellite service covered 86 percent of Earth’s land mass, he should be able to get a call out if necessary, but Zeisler had told him they were going where even satellite phones wouldn’t work. That made no sense to Perry, but he didn’t want to take a chance.

  “Has the doctor been in to see you?” The image of the hospital room flooded Perry’s mind.

  “There’s been a stream of doctors,” his mother replied. “They don’t tell me anything, but Dr. Nishizaki seems very worried.”

  “He hasn’t given you a diagnosis? By now he has to have discovered something.”

  “All he said was that there was something strange in Henry’s blood and tissues—something he’s never seen. He also said that someone from the Center for Disease Control would be coming by.”

  “I see,” Perry said. “What aren’t you telling me, Mom?”

  There was a pause. “It’s the nurses, Perry, the nurses and the doctors. They all wear masks when they come in now. Dr. Nishizaki said it was nothing unusual; they are just being cautious. They also keep the door to the room closed, and no one—well, other than me—is allowed to visit.”

  The medical staff was worried about contagion, Perry thought. The question was whether they were worried about bringing infection in or taking it out. “Did they suggest that you leave?”

  “Nishizaki started to, but I cut him off. I’m not going anywhere. They made Nora leave.” Perry was sad to hear that. Aunt Nora, his mother’s sister, was going to provide emotional support. “They’re making me wear a mask, too. I don’t like it.”

  Perry wasn’t sure if she meant that she didn’t like the mask or the change in situation, but he didn’t ask. Both had to be true.

  “Are you feeling all right?” His stomach tightened.

  “I’m fine. I sleep off and on and talk to your father a lot. Sometimes I turn the television on, although I don’t remember much of what I watch.”

  “Are you eating?”

  “Yes, they bring me a tray of food at mealtimes. It’s pretty good for hospital food.”

>   She is trying to be brave, Perry thought. “I wish I could be there for you.”

  “You are, son. Maybe not in person, but you’re trying to help. You’re doing what you do best and what your father wants. That’s what is important.”

  Perry tried not to sniff. “I may be out of touch for a while, Mom. They don’t have cell phone coverage where I’m going. The satellite phone may not work either. I’ll check in whenever I can.” He wondered if the next call would reveal that his father had died.

  “You be careful. I can only sit in one hospital room at

  a time.”

  “I will. Stay on the doctors, Mom. Don’t be shy. Press them for answers if you think they’re holding out on you. You have a right to know everything.”

  “I can take care of myself,” she said. “Where do you think you got your stubborn streak?”

  “You mean I’m not unique?”

  His mother laughed, and the melody of it made Perry feel both good and awash in guilt. It was an odd mix of emotion, but emotion needed no logic.

  “I love you, son.”

  “I love you, too, Mom. And tell Dad I love him. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

  “Okay.” He could hear the fear in her voice.

  “I’m praying, Mom. So are Jack and Gleason and lots of other people.”

  “I can feel it, Perry. So can your father. I don’t know how I know that, but I do.”

  Perry’s hand began to shake as he terminated the connection. He clipped the cell phone to his belt and resisted the impulse to return to the car.

  He needed a moment to think; a moment to pray; a moment to compose himself. Jack and Gleason would not rush him. He was certain of that.

  Chapter13

  Janet Novak was angry, and she wasn’t the only one. Captain Whitaker was as sour as she had ever seen him. Carl had called in sick. No crime in that, but coming on the heels of his confrontation with the captain over the events in the mountains had made any illness look suspicious.

  “I’ve called his home and his cell number, and I get nothing,” Whitaker had snapped. Janet had been in his office, standing in front of her supervisor’s desk. He had not offered her a seat. That was never good. “To tell you the truth, I was a little surprised to see you.”

  “I’m feeling fine, sir. Why wouldn’t I come to work?”

  “Because I think you’re just as ticked off about what happened up there as Carl is.”

  “You told us to let it go, sir, so I let it go.”

  “But not Carl. He went up there, didn’t he?”

  “I have no knowledge of that, Captain. If he did, he did so without consulting me.”

  “And if he had consulted you, would you have told me?”

  Janet didn’t answer.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Whitaker paused. “I sent a deputy by his house. No one answered the door, and his truck is missing.”

  “Maybe he went to the doctor. Sick people do that, you know.”

  “Don’t get smart with me, Deputy. Just because Carl wants to toss his career doesn’t mean you have to.”

  “Sir, you can’t mean—”

  “That’s exactly what I mean. He could lose his job, and it wouldn’t be me firing his sorry fanny. He’s messing in something that has dark roots.”

  “Dark roots?”

  “I don’t have details, but I’ve been around enough to know when something bizarre is afoot.” Whitaker leaned back in his chair, and Janet watched his eyes trace her form. He was sizing her up. “You and Carl are pretty close, aren’t you?”

  “We make a good team.”

  “I don’t mean professionally, Deputy. I mean . . . socially.”

  Janet’s mind began to race as she sought an acceptable answer.

  He waved her off. “Don’t answer that. It’s none of my business, unless it interferes with your work.” He frowned. “Go find Deputy Subick, and make sure he isn’t causing trouble. If he’s gone back up there, I don’t want to know. I just want him back where he belongs. Make him understand, Janet.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Get out of my office.”

  Janet had left and made a beeline to the SUV patrol vehicle she and Carl had used the day the group of uniformed thugs cleaned their clocks. Now Janet was speeding down the road, making her way back to the site.

  Something caught her attention. A large vehicle was parked at the side of the road. A man stood a short distance in front of it. She slowed. The vehicle was a Hummer H1. The words Sachs Engineering were stenciled on the front door. It looked loaded with gear. Janet could see three men seated inside. She slowed some more and pulled next to the lone man. She pressed the button that would lower the passenger-side window. He was tall and good looking, with a captivating face and a solid physique. She stopped. The man stepped to the open window.

  “You okay?” Janet asked.

  His eyes looked red. “Yeah, I’m fine, Deputy. Just making a phone call before I was out of cell phone range.”

  “There are cell towers all along the highway.”

  “I know.”

  She studied him some more. “That beast back there belong to you?”

  “The Hummer? Yeah, it belongs to my company.”

  “Sachs Engineering?”

  “That’s right.”

  Engineering companies were not unusual in Nevada, although she didn’t recognize the name. If she didn’t already have a purpose for being out, she would have asked more questions. “You sure everything is okay?”

  He smiled, and she went soft in the middle. “Everything here is peachy.”

  “Peachy, eh? Okay, be safe.” Janet pressed the accelerator pedal and resumed her course. She wished everything was okay with her.

  “I can’t take you anywhere,” Jack said as Perry returned to the Hummer. “I let you make a phone call, and the police show up.”

  “She was just making sure we weren’t stranded. It’s good to see someone doing their job.”

  “Hey, is that some kinda crack? You saying ol’ Jack doesn’t carry his own weight?”

  “You’re the one behind the steering wheel, and best I can tell, we’re not moving.”

  “Oh.” Jack started the car, dropped it into gear, and steered onto the highway. “You think your new friend would mind if I drove as fast as she is?”

  “I wouldn’t risk it. I thought we would be answering questions for the next half hour. She seemed in a rush. Maybe she’s on a call.”

  Jack studied Perry for a second, then returned his eyes to the road ahead.

  Perry answered the unasked question. “No change in his condition. They’ve put him in isolation.”

  Jack nodded, and Gleason leaned forward from the backseat to give Perry a pat on the shoulder. Neither spoke, but Perry considered his friends the most eloquent people he knew.

  Carl stayed along the tree line, not daring to move through the open band of shore that circled the lake. Moving through open territory, especially one so narrow, was begging discovery. In some ways, Carl was surprised he hadn’t already been hunted down, despite his caution.

  What Carl couldn’t figure out was where the so-called “Colonel Lloyd” and his merry band of mercenaries were holed up. He had hoped he would see smoke from a cook fire, or that his night-vision goggles would gather the faint light of a flashlight or electric lantern. Nothing. If they were camped out, they had hidden themselves well.

  Carl tried to put all the pieces together, but the puzzle wasn’t cooperating. Lloyd’s team had rolled up in a military Humvee. A vehicle that size would be hard to hide; it couldn’t be driven through the tight spaces between trees. It would be good for bringing men and supplies to the lake and even driving around in some of the clearings, but its range would be limited. They would keep that next to the road. That could be good and bad. A vehicle the size and weight of a Humvee made noise. Carl would be able to hear it coming, just like last time. Men, however, could move with stealth, especially traine
d men.

  If Captain Whitaker had been more police officer and less politician, he would have ordered a helicopter flyover in-stead of demanding that Carl walk away from the confrontation. Carl didn’t know how to walk away. He wondered if he’d still have a job tomorrow.

  He retraced his steps to the road, where he had first encountered Lloyd and his men. That road was rough, but it was still the best path in the area and the most likely place to leave a Humvee and set up camp.

  Find the camp and see what the yokels in uniform are up to, Carl told himself. Then he could decide his next step. He had taken less than twenty steps when he heard something. Dropping to a crouch, Carl tilted his head, trying to determine the direction of the sound. The noise was rolling across the lake, the water acting like an amplifier. He raised his binoculars and scanned the thin road.

  His heart rattled in its cage. The familiar form of the small SUV he had driven to the site yesterday appeared on the road.

  “It can’t be,” he whispered.

  It was. The vehicle stopped and, through the binoculars, he watched Janet exit. When she looked around, he knew she was searching for his truck.

  She was being stupid. Granted, the road she was on was the sole one that led straight to the lake, but to pull up to the very spot where they had both been taken to the ground and he’d been handcuffed—

  What he saw next stunned him. Janet leaned into the car. A second later, the red and blue light bar began splashing color on the tree-and-shrub-dressed slope and on the rippled surface of the lake.

  His rumbling heart tripped and seized. The lenses of

  the binoculars brought the sight of the black Humvee. Men in black BDUs poured from its doors. At this distance, he couldn’t hear words spoken, but the body language said it all. Lloyd marched forward and stood just a foot or two from Janet. Janet said something. Lloyd glanced over his shoulder, then around the lake. He nodded, then backhanded Janet.

  She stumbled back a step. Lloyd took a long step forward, seized Janet by her uniform shirt, spun, and threw her into the side of the patrol car. She reached for her gun, but Lloyd slapped her hand away. Again he grabbed her and then threw her to the ground.