Daniel Ganninger - Icarus Investigations 02 - Peeking Duck

by Daniel Ganninger

  As his design had specified, the door frame had been built with a distinct electrical frequency; a sine wave that circulated around the door. The wand emitted the opposite frequency. When the two waves were brought together they triggered the new frequency, which popped the lock and allowed the four large steel rods to retract from the wall and into the door. Without the wand the room was virtually impenetrable. It was like a bank vault without a lock.

  The room was bigger than it appeared and held equipment that only the government could develop. He immediately went to work and found the lone computer terminal.

  The digital traffic that came in from the Pacific Rim was all funneled through this room before it entered the U.S. Everything from bank transactions, telephone calls, emails, or anything else electronic over the internet or by phone ran through this area before it went to the servers outside the room. The NSA used it to catch phrases, words, writing, or anything that might endanger national security. It was all done by the massive computers in this room and back at NSA headquarters in Maryland. If the computer flagged a potential threat, it would forward it to a NSA technician to disseminate if it truly was. This happened twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.

  Alex knew this all too well, and he also knew what kind of trouble he could get into if anyone knew he had been in this room. That was his first job, to erase any indication he was ever there. He pecked away at his laptop, which was connected to the computer terminal, and in a stroke had erased the time stamp of his entry. Luckily he still knew this system inside and out, proving he was a dangerous man, which in some ways made him proud.

  Alex set up phase two quickly, and he began to search for the address of the office that Galveston and Roger had supplied him in Singapore. He cross-referenced dates with the address and was overwhelmed by the information he got back. It was a massive amount of data and more than he had anticipated. He pulled a few more hard drives from his bag so he could download the wealth of information. This data was not the type of information that a private company would have used. It was something bigger, and he began to realize who they were dealing with without even seeing the data.

  After more than two hours downloading the information, he had what he needed. For good measure he searched for the name of the Trusian and downloaded any information that came up about the ship.

  Alex finished the last downloads and packed up his bag carefully. He escaped out the door, making sure the steel rods locked back into place. As easily as Alex got in, he got back out, and raced for the airport. It was all like taking candy from a baby.

  -Chapter 25-

  Dimitri sat up on the side of the bed in his small cabin prison aboard the Trusian, and tried to figure out the date and time since the hijacking. It had been over forty-eight hours since the ordeal started, or so he thought, because he wasn’t all that sure. The pain in his leg caused him to sleep more than he would have liked.

  Dimitri did some rough calculations in his head and figured the ship would have to refuel soon based on the amount of time that had passed, the speed of the ship, and its fuel carrying capacity. The Trusian had planned to refuel to capacity in Los Angeles and not Hong Kong, due to the cost. Since that was the case, the ship would have to make a port of call soon. It may be the break he was looking for, he thought. At least someone at a port would have evidence of their arrival, wherever that may be.

  The day quickly turned into night, and as Dimitri began to fade off into sleep due to exhaustion, a slight vibration woke him as the engines of the Trusian noticeably wound down. He leapt from the bed and immediately felt a shot of pain in his leg, reminding him of his injury. Dimitri managed to pull himself up to the porthole and peered out. He saw a strange black shape moving closely beside the ship. As the shape grew larger into view, he noticed the characteristic lights of the superstructure on another ship.

  Dimitri strained to see what was going on. He hypothesized that the pirates were either escaping or attempting to offload cargo, but then realized they were doing neither; he realized they were refueling. The Trusian wouldn’t be making a port of call anytime soon. His heart sank at the sight. But then he observed something he wasn’t supposed to see—the name of the other ship.

  Dimitri scrunched his eyes and made out a few of the letters on the bridge of the ship as it matched speeds with the Trusian.

  “A-L-L,” he said quietly to himself, straining to make out the last letters. “A-L-L-T,” Dimitri paused, “Alterra.”

  He had a link, or at least something that connected the pirates to the outside world. Dimitri knew he had to tell someone he had found a ship helping the pirates. Unbeknownst to him, he had been riding on another Alterra the entire time.

  -Chapter 26-

  Relaxation finally set in on our flight to Honolulu. We had been so busy getting out of the country that time hadn’t allowed us to discuss the case. We had a long flight ahead of us and plenty of time to banter the facts about now.

  Galveston moved closer to Maddie and strategically placed himself next to her. I knew him too well, and when he saw an opening his hormones set in. Unfortunately for Maddie, she was his target.

  I liked her and appreciated how she continually redirected his advances back to the work at hand. I could tell, however, she was beginning to weaken toward those advances. I noticed her gazing a little too long at Galveston and laughing at his horrible jokes.

  I inserted myself into their conversation to keep things on track. Maddie reverted back into her professional mode and asked me to pull up the files on the tiny screen of my phone. Galveston sighed, knowing this would be a team discussion and not some mini-date on a long airplane flight.

  I pulled up the papers on my phone, and they were barely legible. We huddled together like a football team, straining our eyes at the screen. Maddie pointed to the first page of the cargo manifest, where she had seen the original discrepancy, the one that listed the crew.

  “It’s odd that the first mate’s name was on the manifest. He wasn’t supposed to be on this ship. I’ve uncovered a little information about him. His name is Dimitri Petsoro. He was on the previous voyage, but was supposed to debark at Hong Kong and fly home. I don’t why he would have stayed on the ship, and I don’t know anything about this Captain Olgary Svenson.”

  “So we have two guys who aren’t supposed to be on this ship. That seems like a smoking gun to me,” I announced.

  “Yeah, we need to research these two, find out their work history, and where they came from. Why didn’t the chief mate leave, and who is this captain?” Maddie said, asking the million dollar question.

  “Something’s fishy alright. Okay, we have our first big questions. Let’s look at those cargo manifests again,” Galveston instructed.

  I scrolled through some legal junk until I came upon the massive cargo bill of lading. I checked the times and dates of each container’s loading schedule. At the bottom of the page was a handwritten note explaining the last minute addition of four additional containers, well after the original loading times. It was signed off by the chief mate himself, Dimitri Petsoro. There were additional instructions for the four containers, explaining the strange security requirements. We all looked at each other in unison, realizing we had an excellent lead on who was behind this mess.

  “Very strange,” Galveston wondered aloud. “Usually the officer in charge of loading the ship signs off on these things, or the captain does it himself. I wonder if this happened before Captain Svenson came aboard?”

  “It sure seems this Dimitri fellow wanted to be aboard and running the show. We have to hunt down their entire history, from where they had their last meal to when they sneezed,” I said seriously.

  I continued to scan the documents over the tiny screen of my phone. Nothing explained what was exactly in those four containers other than generic car parts, which was a serious breach in protocol.

  “I bet we’re not dealing with car parts, and I bet someone got paid off so there would be no ment
ion of what might be in those containers,” I surmised.

  Galveston put his hand to his chin. “You’re probably right. Someone has come up with quite an operation to get the containers on board, and damn, we still have to find a ship.” Galveston sighed. “What have we signed on to, Roger?”

  “I don’t know, but this is getting complicated. Every day we spend trying to find out about these two men costs us precious time in locating the ship.”

  “When we land, I’ll call Alex. Maybe he has some good news and didn’t get thrown in jail.” Galveston stated and turned to Maddie who had been unusually silent. “Maddie, I would recommend that you not tell anyone at your company about what we’ve found, at least not yet. We’ve learned that the less information anyone knows about what we’re doing the better.”

  “I understand, I think,” Maddie said with a nod of her head, knowing she would have to tell her superiors.

  “Tell them we had a great time, and we’ve found out all sorts of useful information about the culture of Singapore and Hong Kong.”

  “That ought to go over well,” she chuckled.

  If only we had realized we needed to be asking Maddie some questions. It hadn’t occurred to Galveston or me to check the source sitting next to us and find out what was in the containers her company owned. We had been so caught up in the case that we broke our own cardinal rule of questioning everyone, no matter how innocent they seemed.

  We were sure that Maddie‘s job was on the line with this case. She wouldn’t have even been allowed to go on this trip if it hadn’t been for Galveston’s hormones. At least that was my opinion.

  The flight into Honolulu went smoothly. The plane didn’t turn around, and no bad guys were waiting for us at the gate on our arrival. We had successfully escaped out of Hong Kong with our vital information at hand.

  Galveston was eager to talk to Alex, but reluctant, knowing the gravity of the situation. Alex had put himself in great danger by entering the highly restricted computer complex in San Francisco.

  We waited around in the airport for the next available flight to the mainland. Maddie and I were very fatigued, the last few day‘s events and lack of sleep hitting a tipping point on our bodies. Galveston on the other hand was clearly hitting his stride. He was a million miles away from the man I had grappled with on the ground just a few days ago.

  Galveston noticed our weariness and took the opportunity to ply his many charms onto Maddie, who was about as lively as a dead plant. Clearly seeing his poor timing, Galveston backed off with a slightly dejected look on his face as he realized he was striking out, for now. He knew he had planted a seed of interest in Maddie’s mind, and for him that was success.

  “Our flight isn’t for another hour or so,” Galveston said, intentionally changing the subject back to work. “I think I’ll try to reach Alex or Jane.”

  “Tell him hello for me, and that I hope he’s okay,” Maddie interjected.

  Galveston muttered an “uh-huh”, but I could tell that was not going to happen. Alex didn’t know it, but he was in competition for Maddie’s affection. At least in Galveston’s mind.

  “Alex, please tell me you got some good news,” Galveston said over his phone.

  “Oh I have some news,” he started, “and you are not going to believe it.”

  -Chapter 27-

  Galveston tried to quell his excitement, but he looked like a teenage girl waiting to hear the latest gossip. “Well? What is it?” he exclaimed.

  “I ran through the information, I, uh, borrowed, and that little office you guys broke into belongs to…” Alex paused for dramatic effect, like announcing a prize on a game show. “The CIA.”

  “The CIA?” Galveston practically yelled, the sound resonating through the terminal. He calmed himself and whispered, “The CIA?”

  “Yup. Those guys. It’s clear as day. Massive amounts of communication from that office in Singapore to none other than Langley, Virginia, headquarters for the CIA. I’ve got emails, phone records, just tons of stuff. All of it was heavily encrypted so I couldn’t see the nitty-gritty of what they were talking about, but the destination was the same.”

  “Now what the hell does the CIA want with this ship?”

  “That’s your job to find out, not mine. I don’t know, maybe they’ve gone into shipping those plastic Chinese toys or something,” Alex guessed.

  “Maybe they hijacked it themselves,” Galveston added.

  “Could be, but I know one thing, this is big and getting dangerous. You guys better watch your backs. Those guys chasing you were probably CIA agents.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel particularly good, you know. Ah, crap, why does it always have to be some government organization. Why couldn’t it just be some random whacko with a dumb plan.” Galveston sighed. “Alright, Alex, good work, except I’ve got some more work for you to do. Have Jane give you a hand with this.”

  Galveston explained about the captain and first mate and the need to find out any information about them. Alex was not overjoyed at the prospect of more work but reluctantly agreed.

  “Do you have any idea how we can find this ship?” Galveston asked, trying to get a handle on where we should look next.

  Alex had some ideas and Galveston listened intently as a call for our flight rang out over the public address system.

  “Do you think he would help us?” I overheard Galveston ask. “Okay, when we get into Los Angeles we’ll give him a try.” Galveston ended the call. “I’m assuming you two heard who our little friends in Singapore were.”

  Maddie and I had heard, as did half the airport terminal. “Yeah,” I announced. “That isn’t quite the information I was hoping for. Who did you say might help us?”

  “There’s a guy in L.A., actually in Marina Del Ray, that I used for a previous case which involved boats scuttled at sea so the owners could get out of paying for them. He’s an old sailor and knows the ships and port like the back of his hand.”

  “What’s his name?” I asked, as if I really cared.

  “Sailor Pete is what we call him, but I don’t know his real name. He has been a merchant marine forever and knows every captain and ship coming into or out of the ports in Long Beach and Los Angeles.”

  “His name is Sailor Pete?”

  “Yeah, that’s what he goes by. Alex suggested we get in touch with him to find out what he might know about these guys and the ship. He’s also got some experience in locating missing vessels. He may be able to help.”

  “Sailor Pete,” I thought to myself. Just another character on Galveston’s long list of questionable contacts, I bet. “What the hell, let’s go see Sailor Pete.”

  -Chapter 28-

  The flight into LAX couldn’t have come soon enough. The three of us were bumped awake by the landing gear hitting the runway. Our internal clocks were off by a staggering degree, as the only sleep we had gotten had consisted of what we could get on each of the plane flights. I wasn’t even fully aware of the present date.

  It had been almost forty-eight hours since our initial departure, and two days lost due to the global time zones. Back in California the afternoon sun shone brightly. I staggered from the plane as I felt my immune system beginning to revolt, and my back ached from the airline seat and its half-hearted engineering design. We had one last stop to make before heading back to the solitude of a comfy bed and a good day’s and night’s sleep.

  Sailor Pete lived on a small sailboat in Marina Del Ray. We stumbled upon the shabby boat in amongst the more regal and well maintained yachts and sailboats of the harbor. Maddie was clearly questioning herself by this point for coming with us, and Galveston attempted to hold her interest to a maximum. Somehow he was pulling it off. Either the sleep deprivation was causing Maddie to lose her marbles, or she was generally interested in what Galveston had to say.

  Sailor Pete‘s shabby boat didn’t disappoint. It was what I had pictured Sailor Pete living in; a broken down, dirty, and utterly disgusting excuse
for a sailboat. The only place it looked like it could sail would be to the bottom of the harbor.

  Galveston knew Sailor Pete fairly well and had given us a quick update on his personality. Pete had been a merchant marine for years and continued to spend most of his day prowling about the docks and ports of the nearby Long Beach and L.A. harbors. He was a popular guy, and he could easily get past the security guards at the gates. They had seen him in the area for years and figured he was still working at the port. Sailor Pete knew all the latest gossip and subtle secrets that lay on the multitude of ships that arrived and departed the ports every day.

  I pictured Sailor Pete as a burly man with an anchor tattoo on his forearm. My stereotypical picture couldn’t have been further from the truth. As Galveston led us onto the dock in front of the boat, a wily, thin, very well-tanned man with a long beard and no shirt appeared on the deck, moving boxes from inside the cabin.

  “Sailor Pete,” Galveston yelled with a wave.

  Pete stood up as tall as his tiny frame would allow, his scrawny muscles flexing under the weight from the heavy boxes.

  “Yup,” Pete announced. “Help you?”

  “It’s me Pete, Dan Galveston. I talked to you about a year ago, you know, the missing yachts?”

  “Oh, yeah, you find those?” Pete asked, as if he had just seen Galveston the day before.

  “Yeah, a few. Got a good payday out of it.”

  “That’s good. What can I do you for?”

  “We just wanted to see if you could help us with a little maritime problem. We won’t take up much of your time.”