"Dammit!" Santino was still in his seat. "Only twenty feet! We're almost there!"
"You still have a chance, guys!" Powell shouted. "You can swim that distance."
"He's right." Burke unbuckled his seat belt. "The more we wait here the more we sink. We must abandon this vessel now."
"Take a deep breath, everybody!" Santino commanded. "I'm opening the hatch!"
"Wait!" Heather pointed at Powell. "What about him?"
"I won't make it." Powell motioned for her to go away. "Get out now!"
"Not without you." Burke unbuckled Powell's seat belt and pulled him by the arm. "Daniel and Jay, I need a hand here." He turned to Heather. "What are you still doing here? Get the hell out!"
She knew she must do it. Now. Especially when Santino said, "Hatch open in three, two, one."
Maybe it was the deepest breath Heather had ever taken. Against the heavy influx of water, she could hardly force herself out through the open hatch. She had never been that deep below the water surface, but she tried to convince herself it would be like swimming in the pool with only one difference: the direction of swimming. How easy to say so! Trying not to panic, she reminded herself it was a short distance upward to reach her salvation. All she had to do was forget how deep it was below. Dammit! She brushed that thought aside. Focus now, Heather. Just keep your legs moving.
The distance to the surface was longer than it seemed, and her lungs were screaming for air. Keep moving, Heather. Don't stop fighting now, she thought inwardly as she tightened her already sealed lips. Her brain should be preoccupied with nothing right now except her legs; one kicking downward, the other moving up. Down and up. That was how it worked.
But she couldn't keep her mouth shut any longer. Cold, salty water filled her mouth now. . .
And then a steel lock of a grip pulled her by the arm.
Heather coughed and coughed then gasped. Her lungs were yearning for air so badly. After a minute of deep breaths, she turned to her rescuer, who was no one but Nathaniel. The quiet guy came out to be competent in stuff other than ancient languages.
Susan surfaced, and so did Burke and Santino. After a moment, Jay and Daniel arrived together, holding Powell by the arms. Gasps, grunts, hoots, laughs; Heather couldn't tell who did what. But she could safely presume they were all exhilarated.
"Damn!" Burke chuckled. "The water is so cold."
Heather didn't wish to be a party pooper, but she couldn't help reminding him, "We have more serious problems to worry about, I believe." It was right they managed to flee from that cursed island, but they might stay in this abandoned, endless ocean unnoticed until they would die of thirst.
"You can't stay like this for long, guys," Powell addressed Daniel and Jay, who were keeping him from drowning.
"We'll have shifts." Daniel nodded his chin toward Burke and Santino, a tired smile on his face.
"Now what?" Burke wondered. "I hope someone has a working cell phone. It's time to call Uber."
"How do we know we are outside the Triangle in the first place?" Daniel asked.
"I'm sure we are." Burke didn't flinch. "But seriously, we need a ride."
Susan looked around. "Shouldn't we worry about sharks here?"
"You will worry about them if you only live that long," said Santino nervously.
"That won't make any sense," Burke countered. "I didn't survive an electromagnetic storm—twice—and a bunch of aliens trying to suck my energy to eventually become some shark's dinner."
"Can anyone hear this?" It was one of Nathaniel's rare talking moments away from translation. Obviously, Heather was the only one who heard him amid this prattle.
"Everybody, quiet!" Heather did hear a faint roar coming from the sky.
"Oh my God!" Susan exclaimed upon spying the helicopter. "That was fast."
"They must have tracked the life capsule," Santino guessed. "That's how they knew we were here."
"Hey! Over here!" Jay waved to the helicopter.
How do we know we are outside the Triangle in the first place? Daniel's question kept bugging Heather's mind. Besides, over the last three days, she had developed a habit of doubting any incoming aircraft. But if she remembered right, the Griseos didn't have choppers.
Maybe it was about time to say that her mission was over. Now she had the luxury to worry about the trial waiting for her back home. Strangely enough, she didn't think she might hate her prison cell. As long as it's on dry land.
41. Dry Land
Heather thought she would hate the ocean view for good, but from the aircraft carrier deck, it was a different story.
"Nice outfit." Burke joined her, jerking his chin toward the new dry clothes she had received from the rescue team. He himself was putting on the same outfit.
"You didn't go to sleep like the rest. Don't you feel tired?" she asked.
"You didn't go to sleep as well."
"The medics insist that I must have some rest, but I can't. I will feel relaxed only when I return home."
"At least you have a home to return to. As for me; I don't know where I'm going. To my villa in Maine, or to a new prison?"
"If you go to jail, then most probably I'll go too." Heather allowed a faint smile.
"I have no problem to return to Maine if you join me. You saw for yourself, my villa had an amazing lake view. Just ignore the wires and you will do fine."
Burke; the last missing part of the puzzle. Heather hoped it was a minor part, though, if compared to the great mystery of the infamous Devil's Triangle.
Suddenly, we find out that he speaks Latin fluently and knows what Akmenios knows. That's not a minor part, Heath.
"So, may I take your silence for a yes?" Burke asked.
Heather peered at him. "Do you need to hear my answer to know it?"
Burke wrinkled his forehead. "Alright, I'm confused now. Is that a yes for real?"
What if this Burke is not the same one who came with us?
"You know how to wear a poker face," Burke went on. "I give you that."
The Griseos were suspicious about him for a reason.
"Oh, you're looking for a way to say 'no' in a nice way, aren't you?"
And somehow, he escapes from the Griseos' custody and joins us at the right time.
"Don't sweat it, Heather. Just say it."
He is the Shomrunk. And we are bringing him back with us.
"Heather? Are you okay?"
"You know I'm not." Heather looked him in the eye. "The question is: what are you going to do about it?"
Burke squinted at her, a puzzled look on his face. "About what?"
"I can't help wondering about your next move." Heather didn't mind hiding her thoughts. He would know them anyway. "Will you persuade my boss to send my team again to the Triangle with you among us? I doubt that would work this time." Because I will be suspended, if not arrested, for my felony.
"Send you again? What is this all about, Heather?"
He insisted on playing his role until the end. Very well, then. "I tell you what this is about. Why don't we start with your Latin fluency for instance?"
"Is that so?" Burke chuckled. "You could ask me directly if you wanted, you know?"
For a second, Heather felt she was talking to the real Burke, the one she had first met in Maine. But she couldn't simply ignore all her doubts about him. She couldn't ignore the fact that it was him who had made her obsessed with his island.
"You want to know if Akmenios was right about me." Burke leaned forward, his hands in his pockets. "That's what's troubling your mind, right?"
"I'm quite sure you have an explanation—"
"He was, Heather."
What the hell was that? She was expecting some well-structured story to explain the situation, not this shocking straightforward answer. He didn't even bother denying my doubts.
Burke looked around, his voice low. "Listen to me carefully. What I'm going to tell you must remain between us, off the records. Do you understand? Don't tell anybo
dy of your team, not even Daniel—I noticed that you two seem to be like best friends or even more, that's none of my business, I know. Anyway, do not say a word until we find out who the Shomrunk is."
Was he trying to mess with her? "You just admitted that Akmenios was right about you, about the connection between you and the Shomrunk. How come you want to convince me now that you are after that very Shomrunk?"
Burke took her by the hand and walked her to the fenced edge of the deck, away from the soldiers passing by. "I have been pondering all the givens since that chopper took us out of the ocean," he said, keeping his voice low. "All assumptions led me to one conclusion: that Shomrunk works in the Pentagon, Heather."
He was raising more questions instead of answering her previous ones. "What makes you think so?" she asked.
"Remember Paul, my grandfather's brother, who was lost in Proteus? Guess what, my grandfather never had a brother called Paul in the first place."
"What? But you did dedicate years of your life for—"
"For nothing. All those years were in vain, Heather. I'm telling you: that Shomrunk, somehow, put that fictional Paul in my head. He made the idea consume my mind until I risked and lost everything to find that damned island and inform him of its location, or worse, inform his entire race of our location. To simply put it: my mission was to send a pin of Earth location to the Shomrunks across the galaxies."
Everything Burke said confirmed Akmenios's suspicions about him. "But why the Pentagon?" she asked. "You were always closer to the NSA agents who kept you in their custody."
"If the Shomrunk were in the NSA, he would never allow them to transfer me a few days before the Bermuda expedition. If you ask me, the NSA was an obstacle for that Shomrunk."
The NSA was an obstacle indeed. And I was the pawn he used to overcome that obstacle. I was the pawn he used to bring Burke into the expedition.
"Oh no!" Heather covered her face with her hands as she realized who the Shomrunk was. "It was him from the beginning."
Burke stared at her. "Do you know who he is?"
Heather shook her head in disbelief, still trying to digest the shock. She wasn't wrong this time. She couldn't be. Actually, she should have realized that earlier, but sometimes, it was difficult to see the most obvious fact.
"Dr. Heather," an officer called out to her from behind.
What did he hear? she wondered as she turned to him.
"We were just informed that a chopper is on its way to escort you and Dr. Burke to Miami," said the officer. "It should be here in eleven minutes."
Only Dr. Burke and her? "What about my crew? I can't leave them here."
"I have no orders about them so far, Dr." The officer's voice was firmer now. "Seems they are not that hurried to see them."
"Who are they?" Burke peered at the officer.
A smile tugged at the officer's lips as he looked at his watch. "You have ten minutes to get ready."
* * *
All the way to the military airport in Miami, Heather and Burke didn't dare to say a word. She had no doubt that every word on this helicopter was recorded. The question was: recorded by whom? By the NSA? Or the Pentagon?
Who are they?
Sitting side by side, Burke and she were not arrested. Not yet. And that made her doubt it was the NSA that sent that chopper. She had fooled them twice; they would never let her get away with that.
It wasn't the NSA. It wasn't the Pentagon, either. It was just one mysterious creature that had infiltrated the Pentagon. A creature with a mesmerizing smile and voice.
He was the one orchestrating the whole rescue mission. He found a way to take me to Burke while he was in the NSA custody. Saving me and my team shouldn't be a problem for him. And that thought made her realize one scary fact: her boss was not aware of anything happening right now. Three hours, and not a phone call from her boss or his office. The chopper that had rescued her and her team, the aircraft carrier, this very flight to Miami; all of that was off the record.
She was on her own against that Shomrunk.
Heather wondered what he might want from her. I'm none of his concern. He is after Burke. After the intel he brought from the Griseos' island. He just summoned me because it wouldn't make sense to summon Burke alone.
That should reassure her a bit, right? Not at all, Heather. The moment the Shomrunk got the info he was seeking, Heather would be expendable. Which was not reassuring at all. . .
"We have arrived," Burke said in an unusual flat voice. He was aware of what was waiting for him down there. "You okay?"
Heather nodded without saying a word.
"Nothing could be worse than we faced there," he told her. "We are survivors. Don't forget that."
Night fell when the chopper landed in the military airport. While the soldiers were opening the hatch of the helicopter, she thought of asking them where they would be taking her. When the hatch was open, she dropped the idea upon seeing the faces in her reception.
Agent Clark and Agent Jonathan.
"Welcome back, Dr. Heather." Clark feigned a smile. "Glad to see you again, safe and sound."
Jonathan didn't bother smiling at all.
"And Jeff Burke, of course," Clark continued, still wearing his loathsome smile as he beckoned Burke and Heather over. "Please, join us."
Joining them was not something she was looking for, but where else would she go?
The moment she and Burke stepped out of the chopper, brawny, dark-suited guys surrounded them as well as the two NSA agents.
"Ah!" Burke smirked. "The well-educated agent."
Jonathan curled his nose. "I see you still keep your sense of humor."
"Agent Jonathan," said Clark firmly. "I suggest we resume our conversation somewhere else." He motioned for Heather and Burke to follow him. "Shall we?"
"You won't take them anywhere."
Heather's heart pounded when she heard that harsh voice. She was wrong. She was not alone.
Her boss was here for her. The SecNav himself.
"Sir?" Clark looked really surprised. "You came here yourself?"
The SecNav stepped ahead of his personal guards. "These two belong to the US Navy," he snarled, wagging a firm finger at Clark's face. "They are not allowed to go with anybody without my orders."
"Mr. Secretary." Clark harrumphed. "I guess you know they are wanted for an investigation."
"They will be investigated by the Navy." The SecNav firmly motioned for Heather and Burke to come forward. "If you have any objections, you can call the Secretary of Defense himself." He then glared at Jonathan, saying, "And if you are not satisfied with that, you can go to him and ask him yourself."
Heather enjoyed the show. Now, she could take a breath after her boss left Clark and Jonathan confused.
"You came just in time." Heather glanced at the SecNav.
"Not now, Heather. We talk later." Her boss strode toward a black car. "Get in." He hopped on. "You too," he addressed Burke.
In a minute, the car took them to another helicopter. Heather and Burke didn't say a word until they followed the SecNav into the helicopter that had no one else on board except the pilot.
"Seeing you again is just unbelievable, Heather." Her boss smiled at last. The scowl on his face vanished as the helicopter took off.
"Am I in trouble?" Heather asked.
"Are you talking about those two jerks?" The SecNav raised his eyebrows. "They know nothing. I have settled everything with the Secretary of Defense already."
"Great." She sighed. Everything for her was over now.
"Do you remember me, Burke?" her boss asked.
"Not really." Burke squinted at him. "Were you involved in my investigations?"
"Yes, I was." Her boss nodded, his voice cold. "Sorry for not introducing myself; I'm the Secretary of Navy."
"Really?" Burke's voice betrayed his astonishment. "So, you are the one who ruined my life, right?"
"If you want to say so." The SecNav glared. "However, it was y
ou who refused to comply. You must thank me for not sending you to a real prison, where you would experience the real, ugly taste of life behind the bars." He turned to Heather, leaving Burke who had nothing to say. "It must have been quite a ride."
Heather didn't know where to start. "Beyond your imagination, sir." She smiled, glancing at Burke.
"You have nothing to hide from him, do you?" The SecNav addressed Heather, looking from her to Burke and back. "I assume you two have the same story."
"Not exactly." Burke shrugged. "What I've seen and known is quite different and surely more shocking."
What was Burke doing? Do not say a word until we find out who the Shomrunk is, had been his order. Had he forgotten?
"Interesting." The SecNav stared at Burke, his fingers crossed. "I'm listening."
Burke leaned forward, looking her boss straight in the eye. "Not before you get me a pardon."
A bargain with the SecNav? Was that what Burke was pursuing? That's a dangerous game, Burke, she would warn him. Outsmarting her veteran boss wouldn't be an easy task, even for a clever guy like Burke.
"What about her?" Her boss's question to Burke took her off guard. Burke himself looked dumbfounded.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Heather asked.
"You want to make a deal, right?" The SecNav ignored her as he addressed Burke, a queer smile of amusement on his face. "I'm telling you that I can offer a pardon for only one person. Would you pick her over yourself?"
"She did nothing wrong," said Burke firmly. "It was all my fault from the beginning."
"Then how did you escape from the NSA custody, may I ask?" The SecNav turned to her. "How much was Mr. Colgate involved?"
Mr. what? Nobody could ever know that name. She didn't remember she had ever said that name out loud. It was only. . .
". . . in your mind?" The SecNav's grin grew wide.
Heather's heart skipped a beat.
"It's him." Burke's jaw dropped. "I feel it now."
42. Rewind
Heather gaped at the SecNav, or whatever the creature sitting before her and Burke. It's him indeed. He is inside my mind. Our minds.
Bermuda Page 23