A Trace of Revenge

by Lyle Howard

  Matt stood and held out his hand to help Simone up from the couch. “None of this will matter unless Hope can get us on the Hydra.”

  Simone looked down at the floor. “Do you want me to wait down here while you call her?”

  “Of course not,” Matt signed, as he lifted her chin to make eye contact. “I want you sitting right next to me.”

  Simone grinned delightedly and signed, “Cool.”

  43

  “Well, hello stranger,” Hope Jannick said from the laptop’s monitor. “I thought you had forgotten all about me. It’s such a coincidence that you called, I’m going to be in Jacksonville this weekend.”

  Matt waved into the camera above the screen. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “Everything has been a bit crazy around here since my grandmother passed away.”

  Hope circled her fist on her chest. She had made an effort to take sign language classes her last two years of high school, but didn’t have much use for it lately. “I’m sorry for your loss. How are you and your grandfather holding up?” She spoke slowly, knowing that the video call could get choppy at times, and peppered the occasional sign that she could still remember into the conversation .

  “We’re doing okay, I guess,” Matt said. “It’s been tougher on my grandfather. He’s really depressed. As much as they nagged and fought, they were still soul mates.”

  Hope nodded. “How long were they married?”

  Matt tilted his head back trying to do the math. “Just about fifty years, I guess.”

  “Wow,” Hope acknowledged. “That’s incredible. My folks are going on thirty years, and I thought that was a lot.”

  “How are your mom and dad?” Matt asked.

  Hope shrugged. “Same old, same old. Mom hangs out at the country club, and dad’s still a workaholic. I don’t see them that often since I moved into the dorms.”

  Matt studied Hope’s face. There had to be Scandinavian in her heritage because of her soft blue eyes and the yellow blond hair she wore in a quickly fashioned bun perched crookedly on the top of her head. “College treating you okay?”

  “Ask me what you want to ask me, Matthew.”

  Matt didn’t understand her question. He asked her to repeat herself, slower this time.

  “Don’t you want to know if I am seeing anyone?” She questioned.

  Matt shifted to his left and gently pulled Simone into the frame. It was times like this that he was thankful that Simone wasn’t very adept at lip-reading. “You remember Simone, don’t you?” He spoke and signed so everyone would understand.

  Simone waved at the screen, and Hope half-heartedly waved back. “You guys look so cute together,” Hope said, with a soft grin. “That’s terrific. I’m so happy for you both.”

  Matt interpreted for Simone who signed at the screen. “Simone says you look great. College becomes you.”

  Hope moved her fingers away from her mouth. “Thank you.”

  Simone waved again and slid back out of the frame.

  “She’s so cute,” Hope said. “I’m really happy for you.”

  Matt smiled. “Is the University of Miami treating you well? Have you decided on a major yet?”

  “It’s still a little early to make a final decision, but I’ll probably end up in business school and carry on the Jannick tradition. Probably finance or accounting. I don’t know.”

  Matt nodded. “Is there a reason you’re living in the dorms? Your parents are still living in Coral Gables, right?”

  Hope paused. “I just wanted to get off on my own. I know the University is practically in my backyard, but I just needed to spread my wings. My parents were fine with the idea. I still see them a few times a week.”

  Matt took a quick glance over at Simone who was preoccupied thumbing through the books in his bookcase. “So have you been seeing anyone?”

  Hope looked surprised. “Is Simone still there?”

  “Yes, she’s still here, but we can speak freely. It’s okay. She doesn’t read lips that well, and more importantly, she trusts me.”

  “I’m really happy for you Matthew. I know your life has had so many ups and downs. I wish you only the best, you know that.”

  Matt nodded.

  “I’ve been focusing on my classes,” Hope added. “So I really haven’t found the time to socialize. I still hang out with my friends from Gables High. The ones that are still around.”

  “It seems like you’re doing what you want to do. I’m proud of you, and even though we don’t talk that much, I just want you to know that if you ever need me, I’ll always be there.”

  Hope nodded. “The same for you, Matthew,” she said. “You’ll always have a special place in my heart.”

  “I know,” Matt said.

  Hope’s eyes narrowed. “As much as I like seeing you, I have the feeling that you weren’t just calling to catch up.”

  “I did have a favor to ask of you.”

  Hope turned away from the screen for a second. “Sorry, my roommate just came in.”

  Matt saw someone pass behind Hope and then vanish out of the frame. “College life seems so hectic.”

  “I’m still getting used to sharing a bathroom.”

  “Priorities,” Matt replied.

  “That’s so true. So, what can I do for you?” Hope asked.

  “I know this is going to sound really bizarre, but does your father have any clout with personnel or hiring for the cruise line?”

  “Are you looking for a job?”

  Matt tipped his head back and forth. “Kind of. More temporary work.”

  “Such as?”

  “I was wondering if your father could get Simone and me a job on the Hydra Saturday night. We would do anything, bus tables, wash dishes, whatever…”

  Hope looked shocked. “Are you serious?”

  “Dead serious,” Matt said. “Do you think it’s possible?”

  “That’s so random,” Hope confessed. “The reason I’m coming to Jacksonville this weekend is that my father is taking my mom and me on the Hydra’s maiden voyage!”

  Matt wasn’t sure how to react. “Well, this is awkward.”

  Hope shook her head. “Very awkward. I don’t even want to ask him about jobs for you. Having you working on the ship would be too weird.”

  Matt frowned. “I understand. I just really wanted to be on that trip.”

  “Is it money? ” Hope asked. “If you need some cash, I can help you out.”

  Matt would never tell Hope about his real intentions. Plausible deniability. The less she knew, the better. “Don’t worry about it, Hope. I didn’t mean to put you in an embarrassing position.”

  “So you’re sure it’s not the money?” she asked.

  “Positive. I just thought it would be exciting to be onboard with all the celebrities. This kind of shindig doesn’t happen that often in Jacksonville.”

  Hope smiled. “Well, if you really want to go that badly, then I guess I’ll just have to make it happen.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Matt, if you want to be on the Hydra, then you’ll be on the Hydra. But you sure won’t be cleaning dishes.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “What I’m saying is, there is no way my father would let you work on the ship. You’re like one of our family. Our fathers were best friends. I’m sure my folks would jump at the chance to see you. Don’t worry about a thing. Leave it to me. I’m positive my father can swing two more invitations.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Matt said excitedly.

  “Of course not,” Hope confirmed. “It’s going to be pretty formal though. I had to buy a new dress. Do you both have something nice to wear?”

  “I’ll make sure we do,” Matt said.

  “Then I look forward to seeing you both on Saturday night,” Hope added. “I
wasn’t that excited about going, but now that I’ll get to see you in person, it will be like old times. A night to remember.”

  Matt turned to Simone who was looking through a book on Hurricane Andrew. He gave her a thumbs up, and she smiled back. He returned to the screen and thanked Hope one more time.

  “See you Saturday night,” she said. “I’ll text you the information.”

  As he said goodbye and signed off the app, Matt’s mind was already grinding away. If this power he had been granted was meant to lead him to this exact place and time, then Saturday night would be just as Hope described it…a night to remember.

  44

  Petty Officer Simms sat in the Forensics Lab outer office with a manila envelope resting on his thighs. He checked his watch to confirm that he was five minutes early. Simms tapped his foot anxiously, wondering what Dr. Bilston and Detective King had uncovered over the last week. He hoped that the evidence he’d brought would confirm their conclusions and not prove worthless.

  The door opened again, and Detective Lauren King confidently entered the outer office. She was wearing a pair of white New Balance running shoes, blue jeans, and a plain white collared shirt. Her navy blue jacket was unbuttoned and exposed the handgun and badge clipped to her belt. “Petty Officer Simms, so glad to see you again,” she said holding out her hand. “You’re right on time.”

  Simms placed the folder under his arm and stood, chivalrously taking her hand. “Punctuality is next to honor,” he said.

  “Really?” She asked. “I thought it might be next to ‘punctuate’ or maybe ‘punctuation.’”

  “Funny and beautiful.” Simms complimented her.

  Lauren waved her hand in front of her face. “Why Petty Office Simms, I do believe you are giving me the vapors,” she feigned, in her best southern accent.

  “Why don’t you two get a room?” Toby asked, standing in the doorway to his office. “Wow Detective, I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you blush!”

  Lauren King cleared her throat. “The Petty Officer and I were just…”

  “I don’t care,” Toby interrupted. “Nice to see you again, Petty Officer.”

  Simms shook Toby’s hand. “Same here,” he said. “I sure hope we can help each other.”

  Toby held open the door to his office. “Come in and let’s talk.”

  The doctor walked behind his desk and pointed at two leather chairs for his colleagues to take a seat. “I’ve got to say, Officer Simms, I’m really amazed at the job the government is doing keeping this entire incident quiet. I haven’t heard anything, and it’s been over a week.”

  Simms waited for Lauren to sit and then took the seat next to her. “I don’t even think the families have been notified yet,” he admitted. “The last thing they want is to have it known that a piece of secret tech has been stolen. They’re probably working on a cover story as we speak.”

  “Understandable,” Lauren interjected, “but I feel for the families of the crew. I’m sure they think their loved ones are still alive. They can’t be left in the dark too much longer.”

  “And that’s when all hell will break loose,” Toby added. “We need to do our part to get answers for those families.”

  Simms shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “The military has its priorities. The danger of this technology falling into the wrong hands far outweighs any loss of life, as insensitive as that may sound.”

  Toby shook his head sadly. “You’re not insensitive, Petty Officer. You’re pragmatic and honest.”

  “Thank you for your understanding,” Simms acknowledged, “but please, call me Scott.”

  “Are you sure?” Toby asked. “You’ve earned that recognition.”

  “I appreciate that, but I prefer Scott whenever possible.”

  Toby looked to Lauren who concurred. “Scott it is, then. So what do you have for us?”

  “Oh, you want me to go first?” Simms asked.

  “First?” Toby wondered aloud. “I’m a bit confused. We’re not at liberty to discuss information about an ongoing investigation with you. We’ll be more than happy to listen to whatever you have to tell us, but unless the circumstances should drastically change, we have to treat the military probes and ours as two independent investigations.”

  Simms slipped the manila envelope between his leg and the arm of the chair. “Oh, I’m sorry for the misunderstanding. I thought we were kind of working quid pro quo.”

  Toby smiled and waved his hands. “Hell, I’m just messing with you, Scott. I’m just trying to lighten the mood now that we’re on a first name basis. Of course we’re sharing information.”

  Lauren couldn’t hide her disapproval. Toby had conned her too. “You’re a horse’s ass, Toby. Why do you screw with people like that?”

  The doctor shrugged. “I don’t smoke. I don’t take drugs. Except for the occasional beer, being a horse’s ass is my only vice.”

  Lauren put her hand on Simm’s shoulder. “I apologize for the doctor’s warped sense of humor. It’s an acquired taste.”

  “For the most sophisticated palate,” Toby added, wiggling his eyebrows.

  Simms was accustomed to the Coast Guard’s strict adherence to protocol and decorum. This casual banter would take some getting used to. “No problem, Detective,” he said, “I’m in the military. I’m used to inedible chow.”

  “Direct hit,” Toby exclaimed, leaning back in his chair, and holding his hand over his heart. “Well played, Scott.”

  Lauren rolled her eyes. “Can we please get serious here? It looks like Scott has brought something to show us.”

  Toby leaned forward as Simms opened the envelope. “I have satellite images of the night that the Truman sank.”

  Lauren stood up for a better view as Simms spread out the handful of images on Toby’s desk.

  “I was told that the satellites were shut down during the mission,” Toby said.

  Simms nodded. “All the military and recon satellites were, but not the NOAA weather birds. This is hurricane season, don’t forget.”

  “How did you get your hands on NOAA Intel?” Toby asked.

  “It’s not what you know…” Simms said.

  Toby looked up at Lauren and smiled. “I like this guy.”

  Lauren looked puzzled. “What are you two looking at? I don’t see anything but a bunch of random cloud formations.”

  The lines of latitude and longitude were superimposed onto the images. Toby ran his fingers down one of the latitude lines. “Where are we supposed to be looking?” He asked.

  “The last coordinates were approximately twenty-nine degrees north and seventy-six degrees west.”

  “That’s nearly sixty square miles of surface area.”

  Simms nodded. “Correct. That’s the scale of each of these images.”

  Lauren leaned closer. “I still don’t understand why we’re staring at a bunch of clouds.”

  Simms flipped through the pictures until he got to one near the bottom of the stack. “While it’s true that we can’t see the Truman—or any ship, for that matter—using a weather satellite, we can make out all forms of water vapor.”

  Lauren turned her head toward the Petty Officer. “And being able to see all these clouds tells us what?”

  Simms laid out four pictures that were in chronological order taken five minutes apart, and computer-enhanced for clarity. “Notice this triangular-shaped anomaly right here?” he said, pointing to a specific spot on the first picture. “I had my contact at NOAA run a combination of Doppler and infrared scans on these last few images. I had him zoom in on the last coordinates we had on the Truman. The Doppler radar enhances the pictures with shades of color that run from green, which tells us there is very little water vapor, to deep shades of red, where the air is very moist and dense. The infrared is used to measure cloud height using temperature. My guy says t
hat this concentrated triangular cloud formation, which wasn’t visible in the previous images, extends from sea level upward to nearly one hundred meters. That’s far too low for ordinary atmospheric conditions.”

  “Like a heavy fog.” Toby surmised.

  Simms tapped his finger on the cloud. “That’s what I thought too, but when they ran the density analysis on it, it showed that this formation was relatively heavy, meaning it was made up of more than just water vapor. This cloud is not something that naturally develops in our atmosphere.”

  “Not fog?” Lauren asked.

  Simms shook his head. “My man at NOAA says it has to be man-made; he has no explanation for it otherwise. And look at this picture here,” he added, pointing at the last image. “This is about twenty minutes later.”

  “It’s practically gone,” Lauren said.

  “Evaporated.” Toby corrected her.

  Simms waggled his finger. “Not evaporated,” he revealed. “Settled more likely. NOAA seems to think this is some kind of gas mixture that eventually sank to the surface and dissolved in the ocean. If we had a way to view any phosphorescence in the water, NOAA believes we would have found a lime-colored stain over this same area. Unfortunately, the satellite can’t show that.”

  Toby rubbed his beard. “Nice work, Petty...I mean, Scott. Can I assume your friend at NOAA will keep a lid on this?”

  Simms stood up. “We’re old mates. I bought him a six-pack and we called it even.”

  “My kind of guy,” Toby grinned.

  But Simms still wasn’t satisfied. “If this cloud mass or fog or whatever it is is a synthetic toxin, I still can’t figure out the delivery system for a spread like this.”

  “There had to be another ship out there,” Toby concluded. “Just look at the differences between these first two pictures. It looks like the cloud is emanating from a specific point and spreading outward. That’s why we get this widening v-shape dispersion.”

  Lauren took one of the pictures and held it up close. “So if there is another ship out here, then it’s located right where this cloud fans out from.”