A Trace of Revenge

by Lyle Howard

  Mason rested his head in his hand. “Oh my God! This is a freaking mess now.”

  “I know.”

  “Make sure his family is taken care of. Whatever they need.”

  Banks nodded in agreement. “Of course. No question.”

  Mason looked like a man who was literally lost. He stared around the office blindly as though it was his first time being there. Slowly, his eyes fixed on a picture mounted on the far wall. He had taken the photo himself and had it duplicated for nearly every office. He remembered the day he had snapped it, flying above the Hydra in the company helicopter, looking down on the graceful ship as Ken Hitchcock maneuvered her on a trial run from the Port of Miami to Andros Island in the Bahamas. Hitchcock had made the round trip in record time that day, and confirmed that his dream of Hydrofoil travel in a ship this large was not only feasible but, more importantly, profitable. No one knew the Hydra the way Ken Hitchcock did.

  “So I’ve got less than a week to find someone to helm the Hydra for the maiden voyage,” Mason lamented. “That’s impossible.”

  Banks crossed his legs and ran his finger along the seam of his trousers. “I’ve been giving it some thought since I heard the news.”

  Mason leaned forward his teeth were clenched as he spoke. “I am not piloting the Hydra. Get that idea out of your head. There are going to be dignitaries onboard from all over the world who represent future ports necessary for our expansion. I can’t be on the bridge and schmoozing clients at the same time. We’re screwed.”

  “I wasn’t even considering you on the bridge.”

  Mason rubbed his forehead. Headaches were uncommon to him, but his head was really starting to pound. “Not one of our Class C captains can pilot the Hydra. She is five times the size and three times the speed of our shuttles. It’s comparing apples to oranges.”

  Banks waited patiently as his brother-in-law struggled with his alternatives. He would speak up when the time was right.

  Mason reached over to his computer keyboard and tapped a few keys. Within a few seconds, a list of his qualified crew members appeared in alphabetical order. He clicked a few more keys and their years of experience were also displayed. Who among them had the expertise to for him to entrust the Hydra to? He scrolled slowly down the list until he reached the H’s. Ken Hitchcock had not only been with the line since its beginning, but he was also always more than just an employee. He was loyal, incredibly intelligent, and had shown his composure under pressure on more than one occasion during the Hydra’s trial runs. Anything Mason or the sea could throw at him was handled with an unruffled poise that was scarce nowadays. He drew in a heavy sigh. “We might be able to pull Bill Norvath off of the Siren of the Sea and train him in the basics.”

  Banks shrugged. “It’s a huge difference between a one hundred thirty mile Nassau-to-Freeport ferry trip and a thousand mile Jacksonville-to-Bermuda run with the fanbines at full throttle.”

  Mason looked up from the monitor. “Gerald, if you can’t say something constructive, would you at least ditch the negativity for a few minutes? This trip cannot be rescheduled. It needs to be fast, and it needs to be safe. The ramifications of a postponement—or even worse, a cancellation—would spread far beyond just the cruise line. It could taint our reputation with the city and quite possibly our negotiations on the ballpark project. Ken Hitchcock’s loss is not only a personal tragedy, but everything that we have riding on this trip has become a real hot mess.” He grumbled. “How did we let this happen? Why were we so short-sighted? We needed to plan for every contingency, and we blew it.”

  Gerald Banks frowned, but inside he felt entirely different. Somewhere deep inside his soul, he was taking a morbid satisfaction in Peter Mason’s suffering. Suddenly, Banks was aware of a chink in the great man’s armor, and he had to nibble on his tongue to keep from smirking. “I might have a solution if you want to hear me out,” he announced.

  Mason had gone back to staring at his list of possible candidates for the sudden vacancy. “You think there’s someone on this list that’s qualified to Captain the Hydra? Do you know something that I don’t?”

  “Not something…someone.”

  Mason looked up. “I’m listening.”

  Banks said the name slowly, savoring both of its syllables. “Roy Sowell.”

  Mason’s head tipped from side to side as he considered the revelation. Sowell was experienced. He was used to commanding a more powerful ship. He was ailing, but this wasn’t a permanent position. Maybe his brother-in-law wasn’t such a waste of space after all. “Hmm,” he contemplated aloud as he rubbed his chin. “The world thinks he’s dead.”

  Banks smiled. “We’ve already set him up with a new identity. We can fly him back here, get him a haircut, forge some credentials and a badge. Not a problem. I think we just need to make sure he stays on the bridge so that no one sees him.”

  Mason pursed his lips. “Some of the guests will want a tour of the bridge.”

  Banks never hesitated. “Tell them no one is allowed until it meets final OSHA and TSA regulation compliance.”

  “Do you think Sowell would agree to it?”

  Banks nodded. “I do. For two reasons. First: money. We’ll pay him whatever he asks, although I don’t think money means that much to him anymore.”

  “And second?”

  “I think he wants to see this through. He committed treason because of the way the military treated him. Helping to steal the laser was his way of evening the score. We gave him a new identity and covered all his tracks. For all intents and purposes, Captain Roy Sowell is lying on the bottom of the Atlantic with the rest of his crew.”

  Mason frowned. “You should have seen him when his ship went down; he went berserk.”

  “You did what you needed to.” Mason drew in a deep breath. “What did he expect we would do, leave his crew to identify us? You know I was this close to killing him on the bridge that night.” He said, separating his fingers a bit.

  “But you didn’t.”

  “I figured his cancer would kill him soon enough; plus, I got the impression that he might have taken out an insurance policy.”

  “You think so?”

  Mason nodded. “I think Captain Sowell is a very resourceful man. The first thing I noticed was that he never unholstered his sidearm when he stepped onto the bridge of the Hydra that night like I might have. I got the feeling he had secreted away some piece of incriminating evidence for just that possibility.”

  “It almost sounds like you admire him.”

  “I do admire him. Sowell’s a smart cookie. He was always a step ahead of me, and that’s not easy.”

  Gerald Banks stood up. “So you want me to track him down?”

  Mason nodded. “Absolutely. The future of Mason Cruise Lines might depend on it. Offer him whatever he wants. Do whatever it takes.”

  “And we’ll be abler to get him up to speed on time?”

  Mason swiveled in his chair and stared out the panoramic window at downtown Jacksonville. The sky was still overcast, but now it didn’t seem so forbidding. “I’ll train him myself.”

  Banks turned to leave. “I’ll make sure he’s here tomorrow, incognito.”

  “Gerald,” Mason called out. “You did well.”

  Banks basked in the rare victory as he exited the office.

  32

  Toby looked up at the ceiling as the light rain began to ping off the house’s concrete roof tiles.

  “What’s wrong?” Matt signed.

  Toby wiggled his fingers downward. “It’s starting to rain.”

  Matt looked toward the front window. “One of the sounds I miss the most,” he said aloud. “But this is Florida, you can set your watch by the afternoon rain.”

  Lauren placed her hand on Toby’s wrist. “Did you bring the item I asked you for?”

  Toby patted the bri
efcase lying at his feet. “Reluctantly....I don’t usually like to mess with the chain of custody when it comes to possible evidence,” he replied, “but since this is government property received from a source that is technically unlinked to our case as of now, I brought it. Now I can understand why you asked for it, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say that this idea was ludicrous.”

  Lauren patted his arm. “Thank you for trusting me. I don’t know if Matt can tell us anything, but I figured it was worth a shot.”

  Matt had been sitting across the coffee table from them trying to read their lips. The detective was no problem, but the doctor’s beard was making the interpreting difficult. He comprehended the chain of custody part, but the rest was lost on him. “Could you please face me when you speak?” he signed to Toby. “I am having trouble reading your lips because of the beard.”

  Toby circled his fist over his heart. “Sorry.”

  “What is this evidence you’ve brought with you?”

  Toby looked at Lauren and then across at the teenager. He couldn’t believe he was actually considering doing this. It went against every scientific principle he had ever learned. What was next for his resume, an alien autopsy?

  Suddenly, Matt began to sign with determination on his face. Toby tried to interpret for Lauren the best he could. “Look, I understand your doubt. You don’t know me. For all you know, I could be a mental case. If I were in your position, I probably wouldn’t trust me either. Whatever I can tell you, whether you believe me or not, this is not my choice. I can’t control this thing anymore,” Matt growled gutturally. “It grows stronger every year. I never asked for it, I don’t like it, I don’t want it. And who knows, I might wake up tomorrow, and it could be gone.”

  Toby leaned back on the couch and tried to cross his legs but to no avail.

  Matt leaned forward and made sure he had complete eye contact with the Doctor. “But why not give me a chance while I still have it?” He pleaded. “If what I can tell you can help track down my parents’ killer, then maybe I can start thinking of this thing as a gift instead of a curse. If whatever I trace means nothing, then we can shake hands and move on. Either way, you’ve got to give me the chance to try. I’ve kept this thing a secret for so long; there might actually be some cosmic reason to why I have it. If what I tell you is useless, then at least I’ve had the chance to brush up on my signing skills with some new friends. I don’t have that opportunity too often.”

  The room filled with shadows as the sky continued to darken, and the rain grew stronger. Water poured off the roof obscuring the front window’s view of the street outside. This storm was stronger than the passing showers Floridians were accustomed to during this time of year. The living room grew noticeably cooler as well, making Toby feel much more comfortable as his perpetual sweat began to evaporate. He was just about to reach into his briefcase when the lights in the house began to flicker, and the front doorbell started to chime.

  “That must be Simone,” Matt signed. “I invited her over.”

  David Walker came halfway down the stairs. “Who’s at the door?”

  “It’s just Simone, grandpa. I asked her to come over,” Matt answered, as he walked toward the door. “Everything is fine. Do you want to join us?”

  The elder Walker just grumbled under his breath and turned back up the stairs. “None of this can lead to anything good.” He complained.

  Simone Chase was shaking out her umbrella on the front porch when Matt opened the door. He waved her in and took her raincoat into the kitchen and draped it over the sink to dry.

  Toby and Lauren smiled politely at Simone while she waited for Matt to return and introduce her. Matt spelled her name one letter at a time so Toby could translate for Lauren.

  “This is my friend Simone. I called her over so she could verify that what I’m telling you is the truth.”

  The beautiful young woman walked over to the table and shook Toby and Lauren’s hands. Lauren thought she looked like an Egyptian princess. Toby smiled at Matt and winked slyly.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Toby signed. He tried to stand, but the cozy couch had sucked him in. “I apologize for not getting up, but I think I’m too heavy for this sofa.”

  Simone looked at Matt and smiled. She was thrilled that the Doctor knew sign language. She suddenly felt more at ease. “I hope you don’t mind that Matt called me. He told me that you might not understand this thing he can do. To be honest, I’m amazed he told you about it. Matt must really trust you. The few of us who know are like a secret society sworn to secrecy, but if I hadn’t witnessed it myself, I never would have believed it. It freaked me out the first time it happened, but I guarantee what he can do is real.”

  Toby still looked skeptical, but that was nearly always his facial expression.

  “Is it alright if I sit?’ Simone asked. “I don’t want to interfere with your police work.”

  “No, no,” Toby tapped his fingers, “please join us. Detective King doesn’t sign, so if you don’t mind, I will interpret for her the best I can, but please sign slower.”

  Simone sat down across from Lauren and shook her head. “Of course. I’m really only here to support Matthew. If there is something that you don’t want me to know, please feel free to ask me to leave. I don’t want to get in the way of your investigation. I just know that Matt told me he is very excited that someone is finally looking into his parents’ case.”

  Toby translated for Lauren the best he could, but it was obvious he was missing a few words he was unfamiliar with.

  Lauren asked Toby to sign for her. “Miss Singh…”

  “Simone.” She spelled.

  Lauren jotted the name on her notepad. “Okay…Simone. I hope we have not misled Matt. We are not primarily here to investigate the death of his parents. We are working on another more recent case that has a few similarities to their murder. Please relay to Matt that we are not here to get his hopes up, but if the two incidents are related somehow, then that would be icing on the cake.”

  Simone looked at Lauren curiously. The metaphor made no sense to her. She shrugged her shoulders at Toby.

  “It would be terrific,” he signed.

  Simone nodded her understanding.

  “So what is this piece of evidence you want me to look at?” Matt asked.

  Toby begrudgingly nodded, and let Lauren reach down into his briefcase. Her hand came out holding an opaque yellow and black neoprene bag. The material looked thick, not like an ordinary storage bag you would find on a supermarket shelf.

  “It looks official,” Matt said.

  “It’s a Coast Guard issued flotation device, but what’s inside is not military grade.”

  Matt leaned forward with his hand outstretched. “So do you want me to trace the bag, or what’s inside?”

  Toby looked at Lauren. “Can you do both?”

  Matt turned to Simone. “What do you think?”

  Her face revealed faith in him. “You’ll never know until you try,” she signed.

  Toby placed the bag on the coffee table where it sat for nearly a minute. Matt just stared at it, as though touching it might burn him. One at a time, he glanced at each of the people sitting around the table. “I’m not used to an audience,” he admitted.

  “Are you going to be alright?” Toby signed.

  Matt nodded. “Let’s do this,” he said aloud and signed to Simone.

  Matt picked up the bag, and the shockwave was instantaneous. The trembling started in his hands and worked its way up his torso until his head began to quiver and his eyes rolled upward. “It’s so dark,” he stammered to no one in particular. His eyes closed and he was transported into blackness. He was suddenly finding it hard to breathe.

  “What is he saying?” Simone demanded from Toby.

  Toby signed back. “Dark…hard to breathe.”

  �
��Underwater.” Matt moaned.

  Toby looked over at Lauren. “Holy fuck!” was all he could manage to say.

  Matt began clawing at the bag like a blind man trying to get to its contents. “There is light. Floating on the surface now,” he announced. “What is inside this?”

  Lauren reached over and pried the bag loose from Matt’s tenacious grip. She slid open the plastic zipper lock and handed the container back. Matt reached inside, and the convulsing began all over again, this time with even more intensity. He never looked at the gas mask, but he moved it around in his hands, feeling every nuance of the different surfaces. Glass, plastic, metal and leather, each material combining to create a single image in his mind. “This is very old but seldom used. The parts are shipped in from various parts of the country, but I can see it being assembled at a plant in Columbus, Ohio.”

  Toby gulped audibly since he had been watching Matt like a hawk the entire time, and saw that he had never looked down at the mask. Toby knew from his initial examination that there was a tiny manufacturing stamp on the inside of the right plastic goggle that read, “Mfg. Columbus, Ohio”. It was stamped into the dark plastic and was barely noticeable unless you actually looked for it.

  “This mask has only been used twice, by two different people,” Matt continued. “The first time is very vague to me. It is put on and taken off very quickly. Maybe someone is just trying it on during the manufacturing process…testing the fit. I can’t make out a face.”

  Lauren was writing as fast as she could. This was freaking crazy.

  Simone was staring at Toby as he interpreted the best he could, but he was so transfixed on Matt, that there were gaping pauses in his translation.

  “Someone else has it now, trying the mask on. Come on, get lucky for once,” Matt implored to his imperceptible tour guide. “Yes! He is checking the fit in a small mirror. I can’t make out the face through the mask, but the uniform shirt is beige with royal blue epaulets on both shoulders. Four gold bars and a gold shield. A pin on his chest has a silver eagle holding a shield.”