Deep Time

by Rob Sangster

  This time her smile looked genuine. Of course it was. She’d scored a hit.

  “Here’s a hypothetical,” she said. “Suppose there’s a mid-level bureaucrat at Interior who makes licensing recommendations to Secretary Sneed. He knows Sneed is opposed to a certain application, but if the bureaucrat publically recommends granting that application, it would probably force Sneed to go along. Now what would motivate that hypothetical bureaucrat to do that?”

  He should have expected this. She was as venal as everyone else.

  “The bureaucrat would want a big payoff. So you’re here to shake me down for a bribe and probably something for you as well.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Don’t be ridiculous. Now imagine that bureaucrat had gone to law school with someone he wanted to please. Can you picture that scenario?”

  Could she really get his application granted? That would change everything. She had no idea how important that license was to him. Her direct gaze and the set of her mouth made him think she was telling the truth. But that only meant she could do it, not that she would.

  “Here are my terms,” she said, her voice firm. “No harassment. No bad-mouthing Jack, me, or the firm. More than anything, no eviction.”

  He had been, as she’d guessed, planning to try to bribe Secretary Sneed, but he had a bad feeling it would go wrong. Her offer was by far his best chance. “I accept your terms. I’ll call off Simms and have him quash the eviction. Let me know how much hypothetical money it will take.”

  “You understand this would be illegal, right?”

  “I understand it’s the way I’ve succeeded in business all around the world. This investment will be peanuts compared to what I paid in France for—never mind.”

  “Then we have a deal.” She picked up one of the Thai dumplings.

  Uh oh. If she swallowed a dose of rohypnol now, the deal would be screwed. He was about to snatch it away when she sniffed it and said, “This smells as if the crab may be a little off. You should warn your chef.” She set it down.

  “Warn him? I’ll fire the bastard.”

  She picked up a wafer and reached for the Beluga caviar.

  He held up a warning hand. “If the crab meat is bad, some of the others might be too. Maybe it’s something in the kitchen.”

  The scornful look she gave him and her tiny smile said it all. She knew exactly what he’d tried to do. That stung more than if she had slapped his face. He’d let his guard down, thinking of her as a piece of ass when she was a cobra all along. She’d made a fool of him.

  As if reading his mind, Debra said, “Now that we have a deal, I’m ready to go back.”

  “Not yet. I want to make sure you understand that doing business with me is very serious. I listened to your hypothetical. Now you listen to a story that took place on the docks of Piraeus, the port near Athens.”

  She stood. “We’re done. I’m leaving.”

  He slammed his fist on the table. “Sit down. My steward locked that door. You’re going nowhere.” He realized he was shouting and hated her for provoking him. But, even though she was insulting him, he needed her.

  Debra sat but her face was dark.

  “Not long ago, a ship owner was using that port on a regular basis. He paid the customary bribes to the old-school Sicilian who controlled the dockworkers. The Sicilian was a brutal man, but away from the docks, his family and appearances meant everything to him. Even tried to dress like a banker. Always had his kids with him.”

  “What’s your point?”

  “One day, the Sicilian got too greedy and doubled the vig he demanded. The ship owner offered a reasonable compromise. Instead of taking it, the Sicilian had two of the ship owner’s men beaten almost to death. The next day, the Sicilian’s right-hand man disappeared. That damned Sicilian still refused to make a deal. Then two of his dockworkers disappeared. He hired more and still wouldn’t bend.”

  Debra wasn’t smiling. “Let me guess. The Sicilian disappeared.”

  “Too obvious. The ship owner went after something so important to the Sicilian that losing it would make him give in.”

  “And you’re going to tell me what it was,” she said sarcastically.

  “The Sicilian’s youngest daughter, the princess of his family, had enrolled at a private college in Rome. The ship owner seduced her. He could have sent somebody, but he did it himself. She broke with her parents and moved onto his yacht. Videos of her having sex started showing up on the Internet.”

  He could tell Debra was thinking, remembering.

  “She’s the young blond I saw at the auction,” she said, “and on the schooner.”

  “That’s right, so don’t miss the point of my story. Killing the law firm you care so much about is a taste of what will happen if you are conning me.”

  “Just remember to call off your dogs before close of business tomorrow.”

  “I’ll call off my dogs after Secretary Sneed issues that license, not before.” Her lips parted slightly. She hadn’t expected that.

  She frowned. “Do it now, or my hypothetical friend will make sure you never get a license for anything from Interior.”

  He had a sour taste in his mouth. Time for gloves off. He stood and leaned over her, fists on the arms of her chair. “I can keep you here as long as I want. And don’t give me some bullshit story about how you left your itinerary with the coast guard who will come zooming out here to find you.” He straightened and glowered at her. “If you’re thinking you’ll get back to the mainland and tell how you were held captive, forget it. You thought you could con me like I was some dumb dockworker. After you got what you came for, you’d stall and come up with excuses. You and Jack would sit around and mock me. Well, none of that is going to happen. The things I’m about to do to you are things you won’t ever want anyone to find out about, especially Jack Strider. Look at the black domes on the ceiling and in the corners. Those are cameras that will record you crawling into my bedroom with your bare ass sticking up. In there, other equipment will capture the restraints, the whip, everything, including every scream and moan you make.”

  She didn’t look frightened, but she soon would. He was getting hot thinking about it.

  “Sounds like we’ll both have home movies to show,” she said. “You’ve been starring in one ever since I walked in here. I’m wired.”

  “You’re lying. Everyone who comes to this suite is searched. My men would have found a wire if you were wearing one.”

  “Sure, if it were the kind of wire you see in TV cop shows. Maybe they didn’t look close enough after I told them that if they groped me even once you’d have them beaten to a pulp.” She tapped one of the coiled roses on her left breast. “This has a micro-receiver. It recorded all your schemes and confessions—and threats. The top rose on this other side has been filming you.”

  “That’s impossible. Those flowers are too small.” He shoved her back into the chair, and grabbed the top rose. He felt the wire and metal inside. Tugging at the second rose tore open the front of her cashmere cardigan, exposing her black bra and full breasts. Son of a bitch. They were electronic devices of some kind.

  “You’ve made a stupid mistake,” he said. “After I smash these, you won’t have a record of anything—but I will.”

  “You’re such a retro fool. Those transmitters have been streaming to a satellite and then to my office. What’s been sent already will make you a laughingstock, a clubhouse punch line. If I’m back on schedule tomorrow, the entire record stays in my office. If I’m not, it will automatically be forwarded to the San Francisco police department and to Jack. You’ll be handcuffed the first time you set foot on the mainland, and Jack will find a way to get out here.”

  Blood roared through his brain. He jerked her to her feet and ripped off the cardigan. If she was lying about the streaming, he’
d have the camera and recorder. But he knew she’d told the truth because the recording equipment was her lifeline.

  She suddenly grabbed his right wrist. He tried to jerk away, but she got it behind his back, spun him and shoved him into the bulletproof window. His cheekbone hit hard, and his head snapped back. As he tried to turn toward her, his feet got tangled up. He went down on his butt. Before he got his feet under him, he saw the silver tray of hors d’ oeuvres flying at him. He got his hands up too late and felt the caviar splash into his face and the other food soak his velvet jacket.

  Her face was flushed, her eyes narrow. “If you want more,” she hissed, “get your ass up. I’ll take you out so fast you’ll think there were three of me.”

  Seeing her karate stance, he knew she wasn’t lying about this either.

  “No?” She straightened and said, “I didn’t think so.”

  She pulled on her leather peacoat and banged on the door. The steward opened it, eyes widening when he saw the wreckage and his master on the floor in a rage. Then he saw the look in Debra’s eyes and stepped quickly out of her way.

  Chapter 30

  July 28

  7:00 a.m.

  San Francisco

  FOR HOURS, FRUSTRATION and anger had chased themselves through Jack’s psyche. He paced, unable to concentrate, wanting a stiff scotch but holding off. He’d need all his wits in case bad news broke. Sometime after midnight, he called Barbas again. The call went unanswered. He left yet another message on Debra’s phone. If she ever got his messages, she’d know how worried he was and call him immediately. He walked into the den, flipped on HBO, and stretched out on the couch to pass the time with Klaus Kinski and Claudia Cardinale in Fitzcarraldo. The story of a man in Brazil obsessively committed to achieving something everyone thought was impossible suited his mood.

  He tried to stay awake, but stress had worn him down, and he drifted in and out of sleep for a couple of hours. The sound of the front door closing woke him. He scrambled to his feet.

  Debra entered the den, stopped, and dropped her small overnight bag. She looked exhausted. Somewhere in his left brain he wanted to shout at her, but he didn’t say a word as he raced across the room and smothered her in a hug. She buried her face in his shoulder and took one deep breath after another, as if coming to the surface after too long under.

  “Thank heaven you’re safe,” he finally said quietly. “I’ve been so worried.”

  She said his name and tossed her peacoat onto a chair. He didn’t remember seeing the shirt she was wearing before. Maybe something she picked up in the airport. Then she reached behind her back to unhook her bra. In seconds they got him out of his clothes and tumbled onto the couch. She threw herself on him with kisses and passion more fierce than they’d shared in months.

  The flood of relief that she was safely home translated into insatiable excitement. They communicated with sounds and touches without words until they fell asleep in each other’s arms, exhausted.

  WITH EARLY SUN shining through the bedroom’s tall east-facing windows, Debra walked toward him, glowing from a hot shower, gloriously naked except for the turban-like wrap around silky hair in a twirl behind her neck. She tossed the turban toward a chair and climbed back into his high king-sized bed. They lay silently together, reveling in each other.

  Then the phone started ringing. He ignored the calls, but they broke the magic spell, so he got up and made Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee and returned to bed with two mugs and a handful of ginger snap cookies.

  After a few sips, he pushed himself up on the pillows and said, “Let’s start at the beginning. You scared the hell out of me by going to Chaos.”

  “I was mad when I left you yesterday in Washington Square. Back in the office, I got a call from Barbas. He was very sweet and told me we could work out a way to stop the friction between us.”

  “And you believed that?”

  “Of course not. He’s always going to do only what he thinks is best for him. But his call gave me an idea, so I accepted. I didn’t expect you to be worried, because I didn’t think you’d find out before I got back. There was no real downside.”

  “You mean like him trying to get you in the sack?”

  “Are you saying you don’t trust me?”

  “It’s him I don’t trust.”

  “Jack Strider, I believe you’re green-eyed jealous. That’s sweet. Now get over it. Okay, when I walked into his would-be Playboy Mansion, there was a cloud of testosterone in the air, but I wasn’t worried. Besides, I was wearing a micro-camera and transmitter I got from that private detective we hire from time to time. Worked better than a Kevlar chastity belt. Because of what I’d already recorded and transmitted back to the mainland, I knew he wouldn’t dare touch me.”

  “You could have been very wrong. That guy thinks he’s all-powerful. He doesn’t worry about consequences. You had no right to do something that dangerous without discussing it with me first.”

  She put her hand on his forearm. “Before you get too righteous, keep in mind that you’ve taken off on dangerous wild goose chases more than once recently without discussing them with me in advance.”

  “So what was your plan that was going to persuade him to let the firm alone? And maybe get him to shut down Chaos at the same time?”

  “Please don’t be sarcastic. I told him I had something to trade that he wants very badly. I’m not sure why, but it probably has to do with methane hydrate.”

  She filled him in on what she’d learned about Barbas’s application for an exclusive license to exploit a vast area of seabed. “I offered to get him that license.”

  “You can actually do that?” She kept surprising him.

  “Of course not, but I gave him such a good story that he agreed to call off Simms.”

  “But when the license doesn’t show up—”

  “We won’t have to wait until them. When I was about to leave without giving in to his heavy breathing, he refused to ground Simms until after Interior grants the license. To be honest, now I’m afraid he’ll tell Simms to ratchet up the pressure to give me incentive to do what I said I could.”

  That thought had occurred to him. He hadn’t commented on it because she had just taken a huge risk—whether she thought so or not.

  “Actually,” he said, “we don’t have to worry about that application. If I’m right about what he’s doing, I have to stop him before the application is acted on.”

  She didn’t reply, but he knew how disturbed she was. They were at an impasse. He couldn’t let go of the fear he’d felt and the humiliation of having to ask Barbas to send her back. And he was right about how dangerous Barbas was. She was equally certain that what she’d done was not only reasonable but essential. What it came down to was that they both thought they were right, and they were both stubborn as mules.

  He turned to face her and took her hands in his. “We’re both trying our damndest to fix everything. You’ve been fighting to save our castle, the firm. I’ve been going far away to try to slay the dragons. But working separately, we’re about to fail. And your trip to Chaos reminded me that I care more for you than for anything else on this planet.”

  “So let’s have a do-over. Fresh start. Work together.”

  He felt a weight lift off his chest. “Exactly, be a team again. So I’ll make an offer. One more dive with Drake could give me enough proof to bring the authorities down on Barbas . . . somehow. I need to fight the dragon for four more days. After that I’ll be one hundred percent on the Armstrong case and defending and building the firm.”

  She beamed. “Welcome back, partner. I’ll go to court this morning and charge Barbas with breaching his covenant of quiet enjoyment of the premises. Asserting irreparable damage might get us a temporary restraining order. But we don’t have to go to the office quite yet, right?” She nuzzled b
ehind his ear.

  His cell phone rang. He answered reluctantly. “Yes, Mei, what’s up? . . . I can hardly hear you. Please speak up . . . Debra will have it stopped by noon . . . Go ahead . . . I’ll call him right now.” He turned back to Debra. “Steve Drake just called me at the office. I’ve been worried about him. When I called his ship last night, he was on a dive in Pegasus, and they were out of contact with him. They were afraid something bad had happened. I’ll call him and put it on speaker.”

  Drake answered immediately. “Good news, Jack.”

  “The good news is that you’re back aboard Challenger.”

  “Yeah, my boys got a little worried because I didn’t check in. My transmitter went out, that’s all. It’s already fixed.”

  “You went back to Barbas’s mining site?”

  “Hell, no. Watching that damn machinery tear up everything is like watching my child being gnawed on by rats. I approached the HTV from the opposite direction. Then Lou and I spent hours collecting samples.”

  “What kind of samples?”

  “Some of them look vaguely like crabs, shrimp, octopi, and starfish. Others are like patches of mesh and gauze strung together with flexible tubes, not like any marine life I’ve ever seen before. And we saw three weird species that were too big for Pegasus to collect.”

  “Analyzing all that will keep you busy for a while.”

  “There’s more. I took Pegasus up to hover two hundred feet above the top of the cone and off to one side of the vent so I could capture samples of the fluid pouring out. More than ninety-five percent of what I brought back consists of microbes rising from deep inside. These life forms are going to prove my theory about the origin of life on Earth.”

  Drake was talking fast, still pumped about the results from the dive. Jack felt himself drawn into Drake’s excitement. He glanced at Debra. She mouthed the words “origin of life,” and her expression was dubious.

  “It took longer than I expected because that vent is like a straight pipe from a blast furnace. I had to pull back every few minutes when we couldn’t stand the heat. That’s why I overstayed my plan.”