Legend: An Event Group Thriller

by David L. Golemon

  Carl shook his head. “Jack, this is Danielle Serrate, the head of the Commission des Antiquités of the government of France.”

  Danielle stepped forward, her chemical suit was unzipped and the upper half tied at her waist. Carl saw that she had a few large scratches on her arms, but other than that she had come through the hostilities with little damage.

  “The United States government is indebted to you. But if I may ask, why call us? French commandos would have been more than happy to jump into the fray,” Jack asked.

  She clicked the safety back on her Beretta and then placed the pistol in her satchel. “My government does not know about this operation. I was on a personal leave of absence.”

  “Okay, now can we have your real name?”

  “Jack, her married name is Farbeaux,” Carl said in a low tone.

  “I no longer associate myself with my ex-husband, Mr. Everett. I believe I informed you of that earlier.”

  “Well, the plot thickens,” Jack said, turning from Danielle to Carl. “That would explain how she came by Director Compton’s private phone line.” Jack turned back to the Frenchwoman. “Ms. Serrate, may I offer you our hospitality and a chance to explain yourself?”

  “I am afraid I cannot allow you to take me to the Japanese authorities, as that would leave too much explaining to do to my government.”

  “No problem; we have a ride coming that’ll take us to a secure location. I think we can leave the Japanese government out of this one.”

  “This is not the sort of hospitality I would expect after aiding you in saving all of these lives.”

  “That’s what I’m curious about, ma’am—just why would the ex-wife of an antagonist contact us instead of using her own national resources? Commander Everett, assist our savior outside. I believe our ride is here,” Jack said, as the sound of a helicopter could be heard outside of the cave.

  The gray MH-60 Seahawk flew low to avoid becoming an unknown blip on any airborne radar. The navy chopper skimmed only a few feet above the masts of Japanese fishing vessels. Jack Collins, Sarah McIntire, and Carl Everett, still in their covert guise, sat calmly without talking. Their cover as naval special weapons people was still intact, a story sanctioned by Niles Compton and the president of the United States. Danielle had seen dossiers on all three from her husband’s files recovered in the raid on his Los Angeles home. She knew Sarah to be a new second lieutenant in the U.S. Army, the new head of the Geology Department. Sarah had been an integral part in another mysterious operation in the American desert last year. The same with Jack Collins; it was rumored in the dark places where governments meet that it was the major who had actually headed the bizarre mission that had confronted a UFO. Danielle had only heard rumors, only bits and pieces about the Event from intelligence speculation.

  The person that interested her most was Lieutenant Commander Carl Everett, a former SEAL. Currently it was surmised by French intelligence that he was the number two man in the Group’s security department, under Collins. The man was a brute. But he intrigued her nonetheless. Maybe it was his immediate dislike for her, she didn’t know, but she would learn as much about him as she could. He wore his emotions on the outside and thus could be very helpful to her in the future.

  As she thought this over, the Seahawk started climbing at a high rate of speed. Danielle adjusted her earphones and leaned over in her seat toward Major Collins.

  “Am I to assume I am to be taken to a small CIA trawler off the coast and asked some questions, to a little ship of torture perhaps?” she asked, raising her right brow.

  Carl snorted and turned away, shaking his head. Sarah just absently scratched her nose. Jack Collins leaned forward and in all seriousness pointed out the side window. “No ma’am, no torture, no CIA, and definitely not a small ship,” he said, his blue eyes never leaving hers.

  Danielle turned to where the major was indicating and was stunned for the first time in many years. She tried not to show it as she looked upon the largest object she had ever seen in her life that wasn’t anchored to the ground. The Nimitz-class aircraft carrier was making at least thirty-plus knots. Her massive bow tossed the green seas high into the air as she cut through the Pacific 130 miles off the coast of Okinawa.

  The Seahawk crew chief lowered his microphone so he could speak to the others on board the naval version of the Blackhawk.

  “Ma’am, please sit back for landing, and welcome to the USS George Washington.”

  The captain’s quarters aboard Big George, as the men fondly called their ship, were spacious and very well appointed for a United States naval vessel. The skipper had excused himself and allowed the members of the Event Group to utilize the largest and most secure cabin on the ship to debrief the foreign national. The captain of Big George didn’t believe they were any sort of naval special weapons people. He could smell CIA.

  As the mess stewards brought in coffee and a small tray of sandwiches, Jack took the time to remove his Nomex assault gear. He would have to thank SEAL Team Six, which was aboard, for the loan. Sarah poured everyone coffee and sat heavily in one of the overstuffed chairs that lined the conference table. Her arm had been tended to by the ships surgeon and the painkillers they had given her were dragging her down.

  There was a rap on the cabin door and navy lieutenant JG Jason Ryan stepped in. He smiled at everyone and walked up to Jack, who was wiping his hands on a face towel. He shook Jack’s hand.

  “Glad to see you made it in one piece, Major,” Ryan said as he turned to shake the hands of Carl and Sarah.

  “Are you getting reacquainted with old friends?” Jack asked, as he sat down and pulled his cup of coffee toward him. “Ms. Serrate, this is Jason Ryan; he used to fly off these carrier things the navy plays with. He works for me and the Group now.”

  Danielle took a sip of her coffee and nodded toward Ryan, who took a chair next to Sarah and winked at her.

  “By the way, Jack, the captain has cleared Ms. Serrate here for a flight leaving within the hour aboard a C-2A Greyhound heading for Narita International in Tokyo. Director Compton has arranged a first-class flight out of there for our guest to Paris.” Jason looked over to the redheaded Serrate. “The director wished to pass on his personal thanks for the warning you gave us that Mr. Yashita wasn’t who he seemed to be.”

  “Can you explain how you knew this?” Jack asked.

  “I came across Yashita’s name in my ex-husband’s file on this site. It said that he was a man of unscrupulous nature, and was known to the Okinawans as Mr. Asaki. So, when we were introduced to that gentleman on the island, it wasn’t a stretch to put two and two together and that is why I called your director. Now, am to be released?” she asked, looking from Ryan to Jack.

  “As far as we know, you’re not wanted by Interpol, the FBI, or any other foreign intel service; in other words, Ms. Serrate, we can’t link you to any of your husband’s transgressions,” Jack said.

  “To make it crystal clear, we can’t arrest you for being married to an asshole and murderer,” Carl added, looking directly at Danielle, waiting for a reaction.

  Jack cleared his throat. He was watching the subdued anger rise on the Frenchwoman’s face. “The million-dollar question, Ms. Serrate, is why you were there in the first place.”

  Danielle placed her cup of coffee down on the table. “Several months ago I became aware of my ex-husband’s interest in the rumors of this site on Okinawa. In this and several other locations across the world where there were bizarre rumors of lost ships, cities; anywhere there could be found the legends of ancient alchemists—advanced science, if you will. Why? I do not know, as my husb … ex-husband’s schemes are his own. But he has become an embarrassment to my government, my department, and to me. As his current interest seems to be beyond his normal pursuits, I believe he may be mixed up with foul elements that may be of concern to both your government and mine.”

  “So, tell us what you’ve got,” Jack said, knowing that a hidden tape recorder
was running, taking down everything the Frenchwoman was saying.

  “I thought he would have been here in pursuit of that vessel. We came across a safe house in Mexico and another in Los Angeles, where we uncovered several research items on the possibility of an ancient weapon of mass destruction that was buried with that ancient junk,” she said as she took a sip of her coffee. “It was my hope he would show himself here so I could cancel his bogus affiliation with my government. And I wished to do this in front of his most ardent enemies, as proof of my department’s commitment at cooperation.”

  “You and he were married for how long?” Carl asked, standing and walking over to the silver coffee service and pouring another cup. He then walked over and refilled Danielle’s.

  “I married him when I was eighteen.”

  “Please continue, Ms. Serrate,” Jack said.

  “My husband has been quite …” She stumbled for the right word to use. “He’s been rogue for some time and is up to some very disconcerting research, for a reason that I cannot yet fathom. He even had a complete scientific investigative report commissioned on an obscure legend about a Spanish expedition in Brazil that supposedly took place over five hundred years ago, a very expensive research project.”

  “Do you have anything else he may be working on?” Sarah asked her.

  “All I have is that he has found a new financier and has been dealing with an American professor on a project. I was hoping it was Professor Fallon and the Okinawan site. Now I fear I am at a dead end.”

  Jack looked at his watch. “I’m afraid we’re out of time. Mr. Ryan, would you escort Ms. Serrate to the flight deck, please, and get her outfitted?” He faced the director of the French variation, albeit a far weaker version, of his very own organization. “May I assume we can count on cooperation with your agency instead of harmful competition in the future?”

  Danielle stood and pushed her chair in. “That is not up to me, or you, I’m afraid. Times are dangerous and people aren’t very trusting in these very violent days. But I will promise you this: where I can, I will forward as much information as possible if it affects your government where Colonel Farbeaux is concerned. I will start there.”

  “You do that,” Carl said, as he held her eyes. “But we won’t hold our breath.”

  “Before you go, can you let us in now on just what it was that was in those containers?” Jack asked. He looked at her sharply.

  Danielle returned the stare. Obviously this man was good at his job. He knew she was aware of what they had been dealing with all along.

  “The most virulent form of anthrax that has ever been produced, enough to kill most of a continent if unleashed.”

  “I think you could have informed us earlier,” Carl said angrily as he glared at the Frenchwoman.

  Danielle returned the hateful look and then turned away to follow Ryan out of the cabin. Carl watched her go without further comment, pushing his full cup of coffee away from him in disgust.

  “I told you she liked you,” Sarah half-joked.

  5

  THE ZACHARY EXPEDITION BASE CAMP, BLACK WATER TRIBUTARY

  “Have you seen the professor?” Robby shouted.

  Kennedy looked past Robby and saw that two of his men were missing. The animal’s assault had caught them in the middle of changing positions inside the mazelike tunnels and shafts.

  “No, the last time I saw her she was …she was injured—that’s all I know, kid. I just hope my two men are with her,” he said loudly above the din of rushing water. He moved his flashlight from Robby to the shaft they had dove into at the last moment before the creature had brought the tunnel’s ceiling down upon the survivors. A split second afterward he had heard automatic weapon fire coming from the other side of the rock fall.

  Robby, Kelly, and three others had come from somewhere down the opposite direction where another small group had run to.

  “Kid, is there a way out back there?” Kennedy asked, his flashlight revealing the scratches and filth that covered Robby’s face.

  “Yeah, but it leads right back into another tunnel, and you know what’s waiting for us out there, right?” He looked at the man for a moment, noticing for the first time the deep gouges that crisscrossed his black wetsuit. A few were ringed with Kennedy’s blood. “Hey, you know what’s there, right?” he repeated. “You guys did something to piss it off, didn’t you? Just who in the hell are you guys? Because of you, we’re dead!” the boy screamed.

  “Not unless it can be in two places at once,” Kennedy answered. “It’s not in the lagoon, because I’m pretty sure that big bastard is in here with us somewhere.”

  Robby was about to say something to the effect that he suspected there was more than one of the beasts, when they heard the primal roar of the animal. The sound was seeping through the rock slide the beast had created in its attempt to kill Kennedy and his people. The hoarse cry was bone chilling.

  “Let’s get the hell out of here, it could be anywhere. It must know this shaft as well as it knows that damned lagoon.” Robby turned and waved the two women and one man forward. “Come on, guys, we’ll go with Dr. Kennedy, he has a plan,” he lied. Then as he counted heads he saw he was one short. “Where’s Kelly?” he shouted.

  “Who’s Kelly?” one of the girls asked as she whimpered in pain from a possible broken arm.

  “I mean Leanne, Leanne Cox!” Robby remembered her alias.

  “We lost her somewhere back there,” the girl answered. “She was angry because she wanted to go back and find Helen. She went back, I think.” The frightened girl kept looking from Rob to her rear, terrified something was back in the darkness waiting to spring.

  “Oh God, no,” he said as he turned and fixed the man in the wetsuit with a withering glare. “Look, Kennedy, get us out of here any way you can; I have to find that girl!”

  Kennedy didn’t like having any extra baggage, but what could he do? Shoot them? No, they needed one another if they were to escape this valley. As Robby pushed angrily by, Kennedy saw that the other surviving girl was breaking out in a rash. He could tell she was feverish as she brushed against him. God, he thought, another one? The girl wore a faraway look as she reached out for Robby. Her once blue eyes were half covered in semitransparent pus. Kennedy closed his eyes to shut out the sight. This girl, Casey, he thought her name was, would mark the seventh member of the expedition to come down with the poisoning. For all he knew, they all had it. He knew he did; it had started this morning with vomiting, just as the others’ had. As the three survivors from the lagoon pressed ahead of him, Kennedy pulled back the charging handle on his MP-5 machine gun and followed, stepping ahead and taking the lead.

  Half the expedition, including three of his men, had been caught on the shore at the base camp. He had assigned the men to watch the sick kids that had started coming down with what looked like a bad rash. It was soon followed by fever and the shakes. Diarrhea and severe vomiting was a stage that most of the sick had stabilized at when the professor announced it was time to leave. He realized his responsibility for the people in his party after they had fielded ridicule from not only himself, but Robby also. He was reminded that they were up against not only the animals of this godforsaken valley, but also an invisible disease that struck anyone who had ventured to the lower levels of the ancient mine.

  The camp was hit before they could get off a call to the mine teams inside the endless catacombs of shafts where they were gathering the last of the specimens Helen had arranged to take back with them. Then, not ten minutes after the slaughter onshore, the animal, or animals, had struck them in the mine. It had attacked the party as a whole and then hunted each splintered group down one at a time. Upon separation of the larger group, they were taken down piecemeal. Now, as far as Kennedy was concerned, this was the last group. It was a terrible assumption, but one that had to be made. He was on his own and he had collateral baggage he knew couldn’t make it out of here alive. He had to move, and move as fast as possible, b
ecause he had the distinct feeling that the creatures who watched over this place weren’t just killing them for being there. They were being tracked and hunted for breaching some kind of ancient rule. And he figured the hunters would be merciless in their pursuit to make sure no one left the valley.

  It was close to two hours later that they saw daylight ahead. All four of them froze, almost afraid to hope that it was real. None of them had expected to ever see sunlight again.

  “Okay, we can’t go running out of here attracting attention to ourselves. Kid, what about the barge and ship—did either one run aground?”

  “No, the ship went down like a rock. The barge stayed afloat for about an hour, but it eventually went down, too,” Robby whispered. “A few things came to the surface and we gathered what we could and beached them near the base camp on shore, but then …then the creature hit us. Most didn’t stand a chance. The sick were caught right in their beds and killed quickly. Some ran to the water where something else attacked them, a larger animal, long necked. I don’t know what happened to them after the screaming started. I tried to radio the professor and you, but there was no answer.”

  Kennedy watched the kid. He had been impressed with Robby since the expedition had started; it was a shame he couldn’t allow him to live.

  “We didn’t know what to do since you went into the mine two days ago, so we traveled north along the lagoon until we saw that.” Robby pointed at the opening. They could see the small waterfall that covered the prehistoric cave’s mouth and hid it to nature’s perfection. A thousand times smaller than the large falls that disguised the main entrance to the mine, this fall was easy to miss.