Bermuda

by Karim Soliman

  You can only wish, she thought. "I was in a classified facility to gather some info."

  "A classified facility?" He furrowed his brow, a hint of disapproval in his tone.

  "Jeff Burke." Heather didn't wait for the SecNav's permission to seat herself opposite to his desk. "Does this name ring any bells to you, sir?"

  Her boss was renowned for his masked face, but he lost his reputation for one second when a hint of a smile barely lifted the right corner of his mouth. "You found any of his articles?"

  "I'm afraid the situation is worse than that." She looked him in the eye, waiting for his reaction when he knew. "I met him in person."

  Her boss's eyes widened. "Jeff Burke does not exist right now. Who took you to him?"

  Heather ignored his question. "I wonder why you never told me about him. What he knows could be really valuable to our mission."

  "He knows nothing but crap," he firmly said. "You just wasted a few hours of your limited time."

  "The island in the Triangle. You know where it is, don't you?"

  "The island?" he echoed nervously. "You too listened to his fairy tale."

  "You are not telling me that the US Navy is not able to locate that island."

  "That island exists only in his sick mind, Heather."

  "We both know that his mind is not sick, sir."

  Her boss let out a deep breath of air. "Demoralizing you a few days before your expedition is not my intention, Heather. But I have to ask you: do you know how many boats the Navy has lost in the Triangle?"

  The timing of his question wasn't helping indeed. "I didn't count."

  "Neither did I. You know why? Because they're too many." He leaned forward toward her. "Now tell me why you believe he managed to do what everybody else failed in."

  Heather produced the photo she had taken from Burke.

  "What is this supposed to mean?" he asked.

  "This photo is captured from the coast of the island that exists only in his sick mind." She brought it closer to his face. "Do you see the text on the ground?"

  The SecNav wasn't impressed at all. "Nonsense. This photo could be captured from any beach in Miami. If it is real in the first place."

  "You have a whole army of experts who can tell us if it's real or not."

  "My army of experts has more urgent matters to handle."

  "I thought Bermuda had a priority."

  "Speaking of priorities, why didn't he reveal this alleged photo to us eight years ago to spare himself a lot of trouble?"

  "Maybe he didn't want to lose his photo in vain because he knew you wouldn't believe him."

  "You're absolutely right, Heather." He peered at her. "Because he knew he couldn't fool us with his crap."

  Her boss's resistance was so frustrating. "Fine, sir. I'm not going to ask you to believe his crap anymore. But if you don't mind, I need an ancient languages expert from your army to join the expedition."

  "That's one seat on the HG-3 you've just wasted." He curled his lips. "But if you insist."

  She hadn't wasted any seats, she believed. She had Daniel and Linda for electromagnetism, Susan and Kenneth for oceanography, the designer of the HG-3 and his assistants Walter and Joshua, in addition to two IT experts. Knowing that the passengers' cabin in Santino's masterpiece could accommodate ten people, she was quite certain she still had another available seat. One last seat for one particular person. "I need Burke as well." She looked him in the eye. "If there's 1% chance he's telling the truth, I will take it."

  Unlike what she expected, her boss didn't get infuriated. "Even if I want to, the guy is in the custody of the National Security Agency."

  "That's why I need your help, sir. I'm quite sure you can persuade them at the NSA to let us make use of the services of their captive."

  "Nonsense. I'm not going to wage a war for him."

  "This is a matter that concerns the national security of this country. They can't say no."

  "Heather." He glared at her. "You had better go to your team and make sure you are 100% ready for the upcoming expedition instead of wasting your time as well as mine in some futile argument. I'll give you your language expert, but a National Security prisoner? No."

  Trying to convince him was a waste of time and effort indeed. Her boss with his military head would always be on a different wavelength from hers. The likes of him, who were raised on following cold orders without questioning them, would expect nothing from their subordinates but obedience.

  Frustrated, she left his office and strode through the corridor, heading to her team's partition. Thanks to her boss's stubbornness, she had to rely on her currently available resources to find that island on her own.

  "Heather."

  And she was wondering when she would hear that deep voice again. The sound of her name made her heart flutter as she turned to face Mr. Mysterio. "How do you find me?"

  "Is that supposed to be difficult?" He flashed Heather a smile. "How was your meeting?"

  "Frustrating."

  His eyebrows rose in astonishment. "Wasn't he cooperative with you?"

  Now she realized which meeting he was asking about. "Oh, you mean Burke? It went well. No accidents."

  "Good to hear." The way he stared at her made her nervous. "Did he feel comfortable enough to reveal anything that might be useful for your expedition?"

  The existence of Bermuda Unit was classified in the first place. And here she was, about to share details about her mission with a man she didn't even know his name. "You promised me you would handle my boss, but you didn't. Why should I trust you?"

  "You just came earlier than I expected." He shrugged, his hands in his pockets. "Has your sudden visit upset your boss that much?"

  "You could have spared me some trouble if you have kept your word," she teased him.

  "Trouble? Why?" He furrowed his brow. "Wasn't the visit outcome that satisfying?"

  "For me? It was. But my boss doesn't share my belief."

  "Burke told you about the island, didn't he?"

  Heather didn't feel he was asking. He knew. "Which conversation were you spying on? The one I had with Burke? Or my little prattle with my boss? Or both?"

  "You think anyone would admit that?" The bastard didn't bother denying.

  "What are you exactly doing? Enjoying messing with me?" Heather started to feel irked after she got over his charm.

  His smile faded. "I thought you were smarter than that."

  "Don't turn the table on me." She wagged a finger. "You tell me now what the hell are you up to?" She should mind her language, shouldn't she? After all, she had no idea what post this handsome guy could be occupying in this damned building. A man who had the power to watch anybody in the Pentagon was someone she had better play nice with.

  "Isn't it obvious that I'm helping you?" He didn't seem offended by her tone, but the smile was gone now. Was he disappointed for real?

  "I'm really confused right now. If there's a little probability that Burke is not demented and he has returned from the Triangle for real, why would my boss be so determined not to even consider making use of his experience, which might prove beneficial to the mission?"

  He looked right and left, as if he was making sure that no one in the corridor was following their conversation. "Burke caused an embarrassment to your boss." He lowered his voice as he leaned forward, his proximity electrifying her. "With all the Navy resources under his disposal, your boss failed in what an ordinary man managed to do with a simple boat."

  Heather found herself making one step back to rouse her hypnotized mind. "So, you all know he is telling the truth," she mused. "While I may understand my boss's reasons for silencing Burke, I cannot understand yours for helping me."

  "Because that's my job." He peered at her, his voice firm. "Your mission is a national security matter, remember?"

  His job? So far she had no idea what the hell his job was.

  "You will never find that island without Burke's help," he said. "Would you min
d if he joined your crew?"

  Heather squinted at him. "So, you admit you spy on the SecNav's office."

  "You didn't answer my question."

  "You know my answer already."

  "I don't know what you're talking about."

  Heather sucked in a deep breath of air and slowly, she let it out. "You know what irks me the most? Men thinking they can fool me."

  "You insist on dragging me into side issues while I'm asking you a simple question. If you don't want Burke on board with your team, then fine. Your call." He turned and started walking away from her.

  Had she gone a bit far with him? "Wait." She didn't think twice when she caught up with him before reaching the elevator. "He is held by the NSA. Is it possible they might release him for the mission?"

  "They might." He stopped as they reached the elevator. "If your boss talks to them of course."

  You must be kidding me. Heather did her best not to lose her composure. "I don't think my boss is in the mood to talk to them."

  "Let me worry about your boss's mood, then." A faint smile played at the corner of his mouth. "You had better stay focused on what you do best."

  Not the first time he asked her not to worry about her boss. But anyway what was she going to lose? After she tried her luck with the SecNav, her options were not that many.

  He stepped into the elevator when the door slid open. "When will we meet again?" she asked.

  The door was sliding shut when he said, "We won't."

  5. Inevitable Failure

  Heather gathered her team in the meeting room of Bermuda Unit Command Centre—or the BUCC as Daniel liked to call it—to brief them on her recent updates, starting from her meeting with the 'big shots' until her return from her unplanned journey to Burke's lake-view prison.

  Daniel gave a whew, a smile on his round face. "Quite a full day you had, Heather."

  "Did they tell you when we would take off?" Santino's thick eyebrows almost met together; an expression he made so frequently that one day it would be carved on his face. Anyway, he looked awkward in those rare moments he wore a smile. A frown suited him more. The bigger mystery than Bermuda itself was that sweet girl Linda, who had accepted his proposal to marry her. The electromagnetism expert must have been drunk when she said yes to spending the rest of her life with him until death did them part. Jay's theory postulated that it was Santino—not Linda—who got zonked. The IT geek swore he had seen Santino laughing once after a heavy dose of tequila.

  "We have less than nine days to get the whole mission done," said Heather. "So, if we deduct the five days remaining before we put our hands on the HG-3, we will practically have less than four days of field inspection."

  "Nine what?" Santino curled his lip. "Why?"

  Heather shrugged. "Because that's the time limit we are given."

  "And you said nothing about that," Santino protested. "How did you leave that damned meeting without demanding more time for field inspection? We have been working our butts off for three months to prepare for that expedition. How didn't they put into consideration our huge efforts that would be wasted in vain if we were not granted the adequate time to finish this mission?"

  "All I know is that there is a global pressure on the White House to allow the European Union to interfere. We cannot hold them off forever."

  "Screw them all," Santino spat. "This mission is none of their concern."

  "Not after the AAL crash. The world is expecting an explanation."

  "Dammit, Heather! I need a whole day to set up the vessel system and find out what the Navy engineers have done to my masterpiece." Santino turned to Kenneth. "You think we can cover all points in three days?"

  "The red ones at least." Kenneth folded his broad arms. "Half of the yellow ones perhaps."

  "I'm afraid you will have only six hours to finish the system setup," Heather addressed Santino, her hands on her waist. "Kenji, Jay, and Dani will help you."

  "Nonsense," Santino mumbled. "This is not going to work."

  Being accustomed to Santino's bitching about anything and everything, Heather ignored him and turned to Kenneth, her finger pointed at him. "Start working on a forty-eight-hour route."

  Kenneth narrowed his eyes, a bit confused. "I thought we had three days for field inspection."

  "I need one day for Burke's island," she said.

  "Burke's island?" Daniel echoed, a nervous mockery in his tone. "You have given that non-existing island a name?"

  Heather might be able to handle Santino's bad temper, but she wouldn't stand Daniel's reluctance. Besides his experience in electromagnetism, he was her unofficial second-in-command whose opinion mattered to her and, more importantly, to the rest of the team. Without his support, she would need anticoagulants to survive this mission.

  "This could be our only chance to go into the Triangle," Heather reminded Daniel. "We might be on the verge of a shocking discovery. What happened to our scientific curiosity?"

  "We are here for a mission to accomplish, Heather." Daniel glanced at his colleagues, who were not showing any reaction so far. "And unfortunately, our time is too tight to satisfy our scientific curiosity."

  "What if that island is the key to accomplish our mission?"

  "What if it is not? What if there is no island in the first place?"

  Heather pulled Burke's photo out of her pocket and placed it on the table her team members were sitting at. "Have a look at this before I send it for lab investigations and think of the possibilities if this photo is real. An island in Bermuda Triangle. Writings in ancient languages calling for help. Don't you wonder why they are not written in English or Spanish or any other modern language? Come on. I didn't imagine I would be the only one who would be excited about this."

  "You're not alone in your curiosity, Heather." Walter harrumphed. "Finding that island could be a huge milestone, but as Daniel said: we have a mission to accomplish. That island needs another expedition fully dedicated to it."

  "I agree with Heather," said Susan. "The island is the key."

  "We are not even sure it exists in the first place." Joshua shook his head.

  Heather sighed as she watched the debate between the two parties. While Susan and Jay agreed with her, Walter and Joshua adopted Daniel's point of view. After two minutes of back and forth, Heather presumed that Linda and Kenneth, who were silently watching the discussion, hadn't made up their minds yet. As for the grumpy Santino; his mind was somewhere else, probably preoccupied with the HG-3 system setup dilemma. Wait, someone is missing. Heather needed a few seconds to realize that Kenji had taken his seat away from the heated discussion, busying himself with one of the computers at the corner of the room.

  "We must vote to decide," Daniel suggested, voices of approval from both parties rising, all eyes on Linda and Kenneth whose votes would decide this farce. Heather was losing control on this.

  "Stop." Heather slammed her hand against the wall. "What the hell you think you are doing? This is not the Congress."

  Her reaction took them all off guard. Even Susan and Jay, who had seconded her opinion, gaped at her.

  "We all know you're the boss here, Heather, but we never got things done this way," Daniel warily said. "Are you sure this is how you want to manage the team in the coming few days?"

  Her dear second-in-command was rebuking her. Maybe she had gone a bit far, but she couldn't help it. Regardless of the lack of any solid evidence, she had that strong belief about the island. All answers were on Burke's island.

  While she was seeking diplomatic words to handle the tension, the wide screen behind her was on. "Kenji?" Heather peered at the busy IT guy.

  "I think you all need to watch this." Kenji left his spot at the corner and pointed his finger at the screen. "I found it while I was looking for that island you were talking about."

  "You found the island?" Heather exclaimed.

  "No." Kenji shook his head. "But I found something more interesting: an attempt to record an expedition to Ber
muda three years ago."

  On the screen was a top view of a lonely boat in the ocean. "That was captured by a satellite," Kenneth pointed out, or maybe he was asking, but no one paid him heed as they watched the video in anticipation. Kenji was showing that to them for a reason, right?

  "Is this a video from inside the Triangle?" Heather asked Kenji.

  "The boat is about to enter the Triangle." Kenji gestured to her to look ahead. "Keep your eyes on the screen."

  Now Kenji was raising her expectations about the climax of this mute video. The entrance of the boat into the Triangle had better be dramatic. Otherwise, she would. . .

  "What the. . . ?" Kenneth exclaimed when the boat simply disappeared, as if it evaporated into thin air. As if it never existed in the first place.

  "Are you sure there is nothing wrong in this video, Kenji?" Daniel asked, his eyes fixed on the vacant blue ocean on the screen.

  "It's original, no edits." Kenji shook his head. "The boat vanished the moment it entered the Devil's zone."

  "Well, thanks, dude." Jay rubbed his black beard, a nervous smile on his face. "That was really inspiring to watch before the mission."

  "No electromagnetic waves." Heather gazed at the empty ocean.

  "The satellite transmission was not interrupted." Daniel nodded, seconding Heather's finding.

  "And not a minor disturbance at the surface of the ocean," Susan added, glancing at Kenneth, whose specialty was oceanography like her. The sudden formation of rogue tidal waves was one of the two main assumptions explaining the events of disappearances in the Triangle.

  "So, Kenji, you're implying that the smart lead box Santino has designed will be obsolete inside the Triangle," Heather concluded.

  "Oh no! We're back to square one this way." Susan was frustrated. Well, she wasn't alone.

  "Very well, then." Santino pouted. "Does anyone here have an explanation for this video other than demons and paranormal powers?"

  "Even if it's real, this video doesn't mean anything," said Kenneth.

  "Guys, guys." Kenji gestured with both hands to calm everybody done. "I showed you this because you were debating about how we should get this mission done while we should ask ourselves why we should accept it in the first place. I mean: look at the givens we have in hand; that exiled Burke that nobody told us about, his 'invisible' island that doesn't seem to be abandoned at all, and this video that I only found while I was looking for any piece of information that might lead to that island. Can anybody here explain why Mr. Secretary of Navy has been hiding all these clues from us? From the team that is supposed to be working on this mission?"