Captain Papagantis rubbed his forehead, searching for a bit of trivia he had come across a few weeks earlier. He’d heard something that had piqued his curiosity, but he couldn’t pull the statement into his consciousness.
“The storm is pushing us sideways,” the navigation officer said. “It’s impeding our progress, plus the ship’s getting heavier. Water has breached two of the sealed aft compartments. One mile until we’re clear of Beatrice.”
The elusive information was something Papagantis had heard on a TV documentary.
Bradley Bender approached the Captain and spoke in a muted tone. “We’re going to sink,” the second-in-command said. “There’s nothing more we can do.”
The Captain suddenly remembered the obscure information his brain had been searching for.
“Lieutenant Bender,” said Papagantis, “I want you to do the following. Have the crew take every mattress, pillow, and lifejacket they can find. Secure the mattresses to ropes and lower them over the aft section of the ship and cover the breaches caused by the torpedo and the explosion. Water pressure will push the fabric against the holes in the stern’s hull. Next, take the pillows and life jackets and cram them into compartments that are starting to flood, as well as adjoining compartments.”
Bender stepped back from the Captain, his face a study in confusion.
“What can such measures possibly accomplish?” Bender asked. “This ship is going down.”
“Just do it, Lieutenant!”
Nikos Papagantis suspected that he might be regarded as a madman before the day was over, but the Titanic had sunk exactly one hundred years earlier. Several scientists and naval architects had recently proposed that if the Titanic’s crew had used mattresses and lifejackets to slow the flooding both inside and outside the vessel, the ship might have stayed afloat for an additional twelve to twenty-four hours. It was pure speculation, of course, but despite Titan Global’s high-tech gadgetry, a few thousand pieces of cotton and fabric might buy enough time for the pumps to get ahead of the curve as the ship cleared the typhoon.
Titan Six
The Great Basin Desert
Major Gus Daniels motioned for his copilot to throw all engine switches to the OFF position.
“We’re going to try to restart engine one,” Daniels explained. “It’s called a Manual Kick-start. I think we’ve got some sand in the engine.”
“The crater is only twenty yards away now!” Madison cried. “It’s still expanding!”
The Major and his copilot began throwing all switches back into their ON positions. Daniels then pushed a digital REVERSE THRUST button on his console.
The engine sputtered to life, died, then slowly revved to a higher pitch. Sand and rocks blew out of the engine.
“The crater is ten yards away and closing in!” Madison said.
“Applying forward thrust now,” Daniels said, pulling back on his throttle.
“Twelve minutes to detonation,” Quiz stated.
The helicopter rose from the desert floor and pitched right. Daniels pulled the throttle hard to the left to compensate.
“Eleven minutes,” said Quiz.
The Sikorsky rose slowly above the Nevada desert, looking like a lumbering dinosaur defying gravity.
“How far away can you get us in eleven minutes?” asked Hawkeye.
“Ten minutes now,” Quiz said by way of correction.
Daniels smiled. “Twenty or thirty miles if I really lean on this baby.”
Hawkeye gave Daniels a thumbs-up and took a seat in front of the other team members.
The Sikorsky gained altitude as it sped forward. At one thousand feet, it skimmed quickly over the desert, flying due south towards Titan’s Mexican base at Bravo Cantina.
Titan Six looked through the Sikorsky’s windows to get a final, fleeting glance at the crater. It was indeed a cone of sand, broken stones from Raj Kithune, and desert rocks. Fiery balls of gas still erupted into the air, black smoke and steam tainting the sky to an altitude of five hundred feet. The fiery pit was swirling, orange sprays of lava shooting up vertically from a dozen locations in the inferno.
The collapsing crater receded quickly until it was nothing more than a red dot on the horizon.
Chinese Dragons of the Night
U.S. Petroleum Blast Crater
Dr. Jao Me-Sung lay on top of a rock deep beneath the earth. Ninety percent of his skin was burnt, his lidless eyes staring in horror at the cataclysm about to unfold. Only he and two of the Dragons remained. He had no idea how deep they had fallen, but he suspected he was at least one half mile beneath the desert. Magma, smoke, steam, gas, and fire twisted about him in a maelstrom sucking everything deeper and deeper into the earth.
In a few minutes, the sinking crater would erupt and blow its contents into the atmosphere.
A rectangular temple stone caught in the lava flow on his right moved swiftly past him. On its face was carved the likeness of a man with the face of the sun. The stone might find its maker yet, he thought.
The rock where he lay suddenly began to plummet at incredible speed. As he fell, the heat of the crater grew hotter still.
Dr. Me-Sung’s body burst into flames.
86TH FLOOR, Jin Mao Tower,
Shanghai, China
Li Soo Yang had lost communications with Dr. Me-Sung. The final transmission from the scientist had not pleased Yang in the least: Aiko had defected, Titan Six had escaped, the Dragons were lost, the city was destroyed, and no relevant data had been gathered on oil.
His one final hope was that the Alamiranta would be lost. Satellite data had confirmed that Titan Global’s floating headquarters was in imminent danger. The plans of the Chinese government might be considerably facilitated if Catherine Caine’s empire was destroyed. Her paramilitary missions consistently interfered with China’s ongoing efforts around the world to position itself as the dominant power on the planet.
“We have The Genesis Code,” Dominique said, kissing her paramour lightly on the cheek. “I’m making great headway in translating more and more sections of the Code. As for Commander Aiko, she had no choice but to help Titan Six stop nuclear winter from enveloping the earth.”
Yang lowered his eyes and stared at the plush, multi-colored Oriental rug beneath his feet.
“Yes, of course, but she disobeyed orders after that. She was in close quarters with Titan’s small, elite force and could have killed them all. They were hopelessly outnumbered.”
Yang sat at his desk and banged his fist on its surface. “Look at pictures of the writings that Dr. Me-Sung sent back from Raj Kithune!” he shouted, turning his computer screen to face Dominique. “And then read the file on the edge of my desk. It is our scientists’ analysis of many of the glyphs.”
Yang breathed hard and fast, clearly disturbed.
“What Aiko did was unacceptable!” he continued. “Honor takes second place to a discovery of this magnitude.”
Dominique glanced at the computer and then paged through the report. She looked up from the folder, her mouth open in disbelief.
“I had no idea,” she said.
Yang remained silent for a full minute.
“Titan Global’s scientists will surely arrive at the same conclusion,” Yang said, his voice calmer. “This could have accelerated our long-range program to dominate all areas of human endeavor.”
Dominique Caine burst into tears. She moved around the desk and put her arms around Yang’s neck. He shook his shoulders and rolled his chair back, freeing his body from her embrace.
“Leave me for now,” Yang said. “I need to be alone.”
Stifling her tears, Dominique crept from her lover’s office.
Bridge
Aboard the Alamiranta
“We’re being haled by the sub,” said the communications officer.
“And?” said the Captain.
“It’s ordering us to hold our position.”
Papagantis stood and walked to the forward window of the Br
idge. The Alamiranta had skirted the end of the feeder band and was now moving forward at one-quarter speed through the calm, blue waters of the Pacific. The ship, however, was now listing at fifteen degrees.
“Full stop,” said Papagantis.
All hands on the Bridge looked at their captain in disbelief.
“We should at least arm all weapons,” advised the tactical officer.
“Do as you’re told,” the Captain said.
Ops Center
Aboard the Alamiranta
“Captain, I agree with your tactical officer,” said Catherine Caine. “Ready our weapons.”
“We’re going to sink in a matter of hours, Catherine,” retorted Papagantis. “I bought some time, nothing more. If we have to engage in battle, we’ll have to interrupt evacuation measures. We might even incur additional damage and sink in less than an hour.”
Caine approached DJ’s station.
“You know what to do, right?” Caine said.
“Yes, ma’am,” replied DJ. “Preparing jettison measures now.”
Many valuable treasures from Catherine Caine’s collection of rare and priceless artifacts from around the world would be lost. The collection was worth trillions of dollars, but the loss of objects of historical interest would be far greater.
But Titan Global could be rebuilt. It had many land-based support stations. Most importantly, however, Caine had encrypted all technological and scientific data gathered by Titan over the years and stored it in sealed capsules that could be jettisoned from the ship in an emergency. The capsules had a very specific radio frequency so that submersibles could locate them on the seafloor. Business and investment records, schematics for the ship, weapons blueprints, and all technology used by Titan Global was digitally stored in the capsules.
And so was all information on The Genesis Code.
“I never thought this day would come,” Touchdown confessed.
Caine said nothing.
Titan Six
Twenty Miles South of the U.S. Petroleum Blast Crater
“Can we see what the crater looks like?” Hawkeye asked the Ops Center.
“Roger,” said Touchdown. “I’ll send you a tight visual from our satellite.”
Tank unfolded a viewing screen from the top of the cabin and switched it on. The monitor flickered, came on, and revealed a snowy screen for several seconds. And then Titan Six saw the Great Basin Desert as the satellite feed tightened to a resolution of two miles above the crater.
“Quiz was counting down: “Five, four, three, two, one . . . detonation.”
The crater formed by U.S. Petroleum’s drilling lifted and fell several times, as if the ground were undergoing convulsions. The desert heaved one final time and then collapsed as Titan Six held its breath. A bright flash preceded the actual blast, which appeared as a scaled-up version of underground explosions used by mining companies to access minerals and ores. Smoke, dirt, and sand flew up and out of the former crater at tremendous speed.
Seconds elapsed before the shock wave from the blast reached the Sikorsky.
“Whoa there!” said Major Daniels.
The tail of the Sikorsky was abruptly shoved to the side, causing the entire helicopter to tilt as it flew sideways.
Titan Six members exchanged worried glances. They were minutes from safety, but would the shock wave be strong enough to destabilize the helicopter?
Daniels laughed. “The S-92 can handle it, ladies and gentlemen. Sit back and relax.”
“My God!” Shooter said. “The site is glowing red!”
“No mushroom cloud,” Gator observed.
“Only a five-kiliton yield,” Madison explained, “but there will be some radioactivity in the immediate area for a while. The red glow is caused by heat fusing the rocks from the surface on down. It will cool over the next seventy-two hours.”
Madison looked at Quiz and smiled. “Nice work.”
Tank whistled his approval while others clapped and leaned over to pat Quiz on the shoulder.
* I never get much recognition in these matters. *
I couldn’t have done this without you. Plus you saved my life after I passed out. You certainly have my thanks, Dante.
* That’s more than sufficient. *
We still need to have that talk on how you can use my body as a sensor and even activate my limbs.
* True, but enjoy the moment for now. You deserve it. *
Aiko looked at Hawkeye as the Sikorsky sped towards Titan Global’s Mexican base. He knew exactly what she was asking with her eyes: What does the future hold for me?
Ops Center
Aboard the Alamiranta
“Green light on Titan Six,” Touchdown said.
“The U.S. Pet site has been successfully sealed,” Ambergris confirmed. “The Pentagon has been alerted as to possible radioactivity within a ten mile radius, and the U.S. military is already forming a perimeter, which will be cordoned off within a few hours. I’m told by a general I know that the Department of Defense is already getting ready to spin what happened out there.”
“The submarine is surfacing!” D.J. said. “One half mile to the northwest.”
“Get me a visual,” Caine said.
The large, round nose of a nuclear submarine shot from the sunny blue waters of the Pacific at a steep angle and then righted itself as the boat completely surfaced.
“It’s the USS Polk!” DJ announced with noticeable excitement. “It’s asking if we need assistance.”
“Tell them that we welcome any help they can render,” Caine said. “And cancel all orders to jettison our capsules.”
“The Captain is asking if he can come aboard with a special passenger. They have a Zodiac ready to ferry them to the Alamiranta.”
“Have the crew lower a ladder on the port side,” Caine said. “It appears we have company.”
“Beatrice is moving due west,” Touchdown said. “I don’t think she’ll present any more problems.”
Catherine Caine’s Private Office
Aboard the Alamiranta
“Someone here to see you, ma’am,” Caine’s male secretary announced.
Caine stood and walked from behind her desk.
A tall, well-built man wearing a pressed khaki uniform entered the office.
“I’m Randolph Eckersley, Captain of the Polk,” said the officer, extending his right hand, his hat tucked under his left arm in military fashion.
The Captain was in his late forties, with salt and pepper hair, light blue eyes, and a warm smile.
“Please have a seat, Captain,” Caine said, motioning to a sitting area.
The two figures sat, the Captain speaking first.
“The Alamiranta is a fine ship, Mrs. Caine. Kudos to your Captain for using what is now known as the Titanic Gambit. Actually, this is the first time it has ever been tried.”
“Thank you. It was touch-and-go for a while.”
Eckersley smiled broadly. “I’d like to help you with your flooding problem. I can have divers in the water within the hour to begin repairing the breaches in your hull. That should allow your pumps time to clear out whatever compartments have been compromised. After that, we’ll escort you to your repair and refit facility at Lehua.”
“Thank you,” said Caine. “Titan Global would be very happy to work for your men.” Caine paused and knit her brows. “May I be so bold as to ask how you know about our base in Lehua?”
Lehua was an islet in the Hawaiian Islands west of Kauai. Crescent-shaped, it cradled an ultra-modern facility that the Alamiranta and other Titan Global sea vessels used for repair and the restocking of provisions.
Eckersley smiled. “Good intel. I think the guest who hitched a ride on the Polk has some pertinent info on Lehua if you’d like to have your secretary admit him.”
“Of course.”
A minute later, a tall, handsome man stood in the doorway of Caine’s office. He looked like a yachtsman, wearing a blue blazer, white trousers, an ascot, and a
white Captain’s hat with a blue brim. He was tanned and muscular.
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