Catalyst (Breakthrough Book 3) (39 page)

93

The morning sun was barely climbing into the sky as a gray Crown Victoria was waved through the airport’s southern gate.  It sped past the row of nondescript aircraft hangars, heading directly for the Gulfstream sitting on a private tarmac.

Upon reaching the plane, the car slowed and came to a stop, where one of the rear doors was immediately opened.  Secretary of Defense Miller stepped out in full uniform, closing the door behind him.  He walked to the metal staircase and climbed briskly to the top, stepping inside the cabin.

Admiral Langford and CIA Director Hayes were already seated inside, waiting.  Each sitting on opposite sides of the aisle.

Miller grinned at the obvious tension between the two and sat down, just seconds before the heavy door was closed behind him.

After remaining an independent and self-governing province for nearly four hundred years, the Republic and Canton of Geneva rejoined the Swiss Confederacy in 1815, establishing itself as Switzerland’s westernmost region.  Surrounded by the lush green hills of France on nearly all sides, the French-speaking canton remained the most metropolitan and wealthiest in the region.  And was home to some of the most powerful multinational corporations in the world.

The Gulfstream’s flight lasted eight hours before the aircraft circled and began its final approach.  After touching down, it taxied to a secure location at the Geneva Airport and slowed to a stop.

In the darkness, two black SUVs stood waiting, surrounded by several CIA agents.  The three men descended the stairs and approached their security detail.  Hayes then immediately climbed into the first truck, leaving Langford and Miller to the second.  Conducting a final scan of the area, the agents opened their own doors and climbed in around them.

The traffic along the route was light, allowing the two-car caravan to reach Vernier in less than thirty minutes.  The small municipality was well-known as home to one of the wealthiest offshore drilling companies in the world.  A conglomerate with immense power, yet now perhaps one of the most tarnished reputations in the industry.  Transocean Limited would forever be known as the owner of the drill rig responsible for the Deepwater Horizon oil spill, and the largest accidental marine spill in petroleum history.

When Langford, Miller, and Hayes were escorted into the lobby of the company’s headquarters, a member of the Transocean staff was waiting for them.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” an attractive female said pleasantly.  With short black hair, she was impeccably dressed in a red and black colorblock skirt suit.  “I’m Alessia Bierle.  We’re privileged to have you here and hope your trip was enjoyable.”

“It was fine.  Thank you,” Langford replied.

“Can I get you anything before heading upstairs?”

“No, thank you.”

“Very well.  Then please follow me and we’ll head up.”

The woman led them to the elevator and held it open for their visitors.  Once inside, Bierle pushed the button for the top floor and turned to them, smiling.  “Our executive team is waiting for you.”

“Thank you, Ms. Bierle,” Miller nodded.  Hayes had yet to speak.

The elevator opened into an elaborate meeting room with light marble flooring and a modern design, giving it a clean and efficient look.  Bierle led them across the room and gestured to the three closest chairs at the table.  On the other side sat several men, all in their fifties and sixties, who immediately stood with welcoming yet cautious expressions.

The man in the middle smiled at all three men and extended his hand across the dark table. 

“Good morning,” he said in a thick French accent.  “We are very pleased to meet you.”

Admiral Langford shook his hand and quickly selected a chair, signaling his desire to dispense with pleasantries.  He sat down, followed by Miller, Hayes, and the rest of the room.

A man named Abel Abegg, the president of Transocean, was dressed impeccably in a dark blue Brioni suit and eased himself down, studying the three Americans.  They were clearly not there to waste time.

“What is it that we can help you with, Admiral?”

“We’re interested in one of your mobile drill rigs in the Caribbean.  The one that you’re replacing.”

Abegg nodded.  “Ah, you’re referring to the Nordic.  We just put the newer ultra-deepwater unit in place two weeks ago and are running simulation tests.”  He looked curiously among all three men.  “What is it about the Nordic that you’d like to know?”

Miller cleared his throat.  “It’s not the newer one we’re interested in.  It’s the older rig being removed.”

Abegg looked confused.  “The old rig?  You mean the Valant?”

“Correct,” answered Langford.

“I don’t understand,” Abegg replied, glancing briefly at the rest of his team.

“You
are
removing it?”

“Yes, of course.  We must.  Regulations mandate all rigs be replaced if they pose a significant structural risk.”

At this, Langford grinned.  “Regulations haven’t exactly been your strong suit.”

His comment caused several eyes to narrow across the table, and the pleasant expression on their president’s face disappeared.  “You’re speaking of the Deepwater accident.”

“We’ve come here with an opportunity, Mr. Abegg.”

He stared at Langford.  “Is that right?  An opportunity for
whom
may I ask?”

Langford met the man’s gaze.  “For your redemption.”

Abegg slowly smiled.  “Redemption?”

“That’s right.”

“Redemption of what, exactly?”

“Redemption for knowing that cutting the wrong corners resulted in the largest oil spill and manmade disaster on record.  And an expensive lesson.”

“A
very
expensive lesson,” Abegg replied.

“Indeed.”

“So, what
sort
of redemption are we speaking of?” Abegg asked.

Miller answered.  “Another mistake.”

“Excuse me?”

“Another mistake,” repeated Langford.

“I don’t understand.”

“The old rig you’re bringing back to dismantle.  It needs a problem.”

“It
needs
a problem?”  The president looked again at his officers on either side, then turned back to Langford with a grin.  “And this
problem
is supposed to be our redemption?”

“That’s right.”

Abegg merely stared at Langford.  “Exactly what kind of problem do you have in mind?”

“That’s up to you.  We only care about the location.”

94

John Clay awoke and slowly examined the light-colored blanket tucked neatly around him.  The high rails on either side told him it was a hospital bed.  Without moving his head, he followed the blanket up to his chest, where he found clear tubes running to either side.

The room came into focus quickly.  It was sparsely decorated with little more than a service table and a television high on the opposite wall. He moved both hands and felt something soft to his right.

He turned his head to see a chair pulled close to the bed.  Curled up uncomfortably and still sleeping was Alison.  Her arm extended across the edge of the bed with her hand resting on top of Clay’s.

Clay watched her as she slept.  Even with tussled hair and her head resting awkwardly on a pillow atop the chair, he smiled at how beautiful she was.

He was overcome with emotion, staring longingly into a face he thought he would never see again.  He took a deep breath and smiled.

Alison’s eyes fluttered open and stared at him.  But only for a moment before jerking upright.  “You’re awake!”

Clay smiled.  Even her voice was beautiful.

Alison leaned forward to hug him gently.

“When did you get here?” he asked.

She smiled and pulled his hand to her cheek.  “As soon as I could.”

A flood of emotions overwhelmed him and Clay’s eyes began to well with tears.  “I-I didn’t think-”

“It’s okay,” she whispered.  “I’m here now.”

He smiled again and nodded.

Alison lowered his hand, then stood up and leaned in closer to kiss him.  When she sat back down, it was on the edge of his bed.

“How do you feel?”

“Old.”

She chuckled.  “That’s not what I meant.”

“Everything hurts.”  He grimaced and pulled the blanket to the side, examining the cast he felt on his leg.  “What day is it?”

“Saturday, the twelfth.”

He peered through the window into a blue sky with soft scattered clouds.  “Where are we?”

She grinned.  “Honolulu.  At the Queen’s Medical Center.”

“Hawaii?”

“Yep.”

He leaned his head back.  “Not exactly how I would have wanted to bring you here.”

Alison looked down and straightened the blanket across his chest.  “I’ll take you any way I can get you.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you.”

“I know.  It was probably better you didn’t.  Besides, I had my own problems.”

His eyes narrowed.  “What happened?”

She was still looking down at the blanket and pursed her lips tight, but it didn’t prevent what was coming.  Alison began to tremble and she fell forward, softly into him.  “We lost Juan.”

Clay was stunned.  “What?!”

“We lost Juan,” she repeated, sobbing.

“Oh no.”  He brought her in closer.  “I’m so sorry.”

Clay didn’t need to ask.  He knew what Caesare and his team were up against, and he knew how often things went awry, no matter how well-planned.  He put his bandaged arm around her, trying to ignore the pain.

After a minute, she looked up and tried to wipe the tears away.  “And Chris!”

“Chris?!”

Alison nodded.  “He’s in the hospital.  There was an accident aboard the ship.  The doctors think he’s going to be okay, but we almost lost him too.”

He nodded and squeezed her.  “What about Steve?”

“He’s okay, and DeeAnn and Dulce.  But he lost two of his men.”

Clay closed his eyes, shaking his head.  Nearly everything had gone wrong.  Juan, Chris, and now two of Caesare’s team. 

He reached up and brushed some hair away from Alison’s face.  “Not our finest moment, was it?”

She stared at him and wiped her eyes.  With a sniff she said, “Well, I’m not sure if I’d go that far.”

She forced a small smile at Clay’s inquisitive look.  “We did manage to find something.  Something big.”

Ten minutes later, there was a knock on the door.  Alison got up and walked across the room to open it, finding Caesare there, quiet and somber.  He stepped in, wearing an arm sling and a grave face.

Clay had seen that look before.  “How you doin’?”

Caesare shook his head.  “Not all that great.  How are you?”

“Better than I was.”

“I bet.”  He stopped at the foot of the bed.  “You hear about Juan, and Corso, and Anderson?”

“I did.  I’m really sorry.”

Caesare nodded.  “Not much went our way.  Doesn’t look like too much went your way either.”

Clay forced a grin.  “I guess it depends on how you look at it.”

“Well, it
looks
like you got beat up.”

“Yeah, but I think I intimidated the hell out of the other guys.”

A small smile spread across Caesare’s face.  “Based on how bad you look, they must have been shaking in their boots.”

“I wish you could have been there.”

This time, Caesare laughed.  “Gee, thanks.”  He rounded the bed and dropped his large frame into the chair.  “So what did happen?”

“I found Wei’s daughter, Li Na.”

“She was alive then?”

“Yes.  Wei saved her life by injecting her with the bacterium from the plants.”

“Where is she now?”

Clay stared at him, still trying to piece his memory back together.  No doubt made worse by the medication he was on.  “I think she escaped.”

“Great.”  Caesare leaned back.  The room became silent before he took a breath and spoke again.  “It’s gone, John.  The whole thing is gone.”

“The vault?”

Caesare nodded.  “They dropped a bomb and melted the whole damn top of that mountain.  We survived by luck.  And nothing more.”

“The Brazilians?”

“No.”  Caesare shook his head.  “The Chinese.”

“The
Chinese
?”

Caesare nodded with his eyes transfixed.  “I guess if they couldn’t have it, they decided no one would.”

Clay was shocked.  He gazed back out through the window, shaking his head.  “How are the others?”

“Alive,” Caesare said.  “Chris and Tiewater are both in the hospital.  DeeAnn’s fine, but I’m sure she’s out –– this time, for good.  If she was on the fence before, that fence doesn’t even exist anymore.”

Clay looked at Alison, now standing at the foot of his bed.  “I guess we can’t blame her.”

“No,” Caesare said absently.  “No, we can’t.”

Clay noticed Alison glance back at the door.  It was the second time she had done it.  “What’s wrong?”

“Me?  Nothing.”

He watched Alison glance subtly at Caesare.  They knew something he didn’t.

“What?”

The Queen’s Medical Center, still commonly referred to as Queen’s Hospital, was the largest in the state of Hawaii.  Long since expanded beyond the hospital’s original footprint, the facility had grown to over 500 beds, 3,600 employees, and now served as the largest trauma center in the Pacific Basin.

On the bottom floor, beneath the light-green roof of the hospital’s main entrance, two automatic double doors promptly slid open as Admiral Langford and Secretary of Defense Miller strode in out of the warm, humid Hawaiian air.  Both were dressed in casual clothes and walked purposefully toward the elevators.  Behind them, three more individuals followed.

Langford slowed as he passed the large waiting room, noticing the feed on the giant television.  It was an aerial shot of Transocean’s rig “Valant” in the mid-Atlantic.  Onscreen, words overlaid the live video feed and read “Transocean loses millions to prevent disaster.”

With a bemused grin, Langford continued.  He had to admit, between their two public relations teams, the story being fed to the public sounded downright heroic.  The “disaster” portion was a stretch.  The company hadn’t actually replaced the rig sooner than planned, nor was there a malfunction forcing the old rig to be stopped where it was.  In truth, the incident was little more than a detour on the way to the scrapyard.  The important thing was that it allowed the public to praise Transocean Ltd. on being proactive…before promptly forgetting the incident.  Even more importantly, it provided the perfect excuse to now position an unused oil rig directly over Alison Shaw’s discovery for the next twelve months, accompanied, of course, by the U.S.S. Pathfinder. 

It was the same story that had been circulated throughout each of the U.S. military’s five service branches.

When the door to Clay’s room opened next, he was surprised to see both Langford and Miller walk in, followed by Neely Lawton, Wil Borger, and to Caesare’s complete shock, a serious-looking DeeAnn Draper.

Together they looked down at Clay with concern, after which Neely exchanged a quick smile with Caesare as Langford began to speak.

“How are you, John?”

“Uh…surprised, sir.”

Langford grinned and glanced to his left.  “How about you, Steve?”

Next to Clay, Caesare watched Langford with a cautious expression.  “I’m fine.”

The admiral motioned to the others around him.  “I know this is a little unexpected.”

“Just a tad.”

Langford frowned at Caesare.  “I wanted to have you all in the same room.  And since Clay isn’t going anywhere soon, I decided we could all do with a bit of warm air and sunshine.”

Clay gave a playful but questioning look at Alison, who only shrugged and smiled.  Both he and Caesare watched Langford with curiosity.

“Let me start by commending you all.  You did a hell of a job under the circumstances.”  Langford glanced at the others.  “I’m not sure if I’ve ever been more impressed with a group of individuals.  It’s people like you who remind me what this country is supposed to be about.  What it used to be about.  And perhaps what it might someday be again.  But until then, what has happened in the last few weeks, or in the last year, has been nothing short of earth-shaking.  I’m sure you would all agree.”  Langford straightened and put his hands behind himself.  “Which is also why it must be protected.  At all costs.  By all of you.”

Both Clay and Caesare raised their eyebrows simultaneously.

“Sir?”

“What I’m about to say may come as a surprise.  Yet it’s something on which Defense Secretary Miller and I both agree.  And that is the decision to form a new classified team, composed of the members in this room.  A team that reports exclusively to Secretary Miller and myself, and no one else.”

Silence fell over the room as everyone looked back and forth, curiously.

“Sir, I don’t understand,” said Clay.  “Why form a team when the mission is over?”

Langford chuckled.  “And what makes you think things are over?”

“Uh, well, the hidden vault is gone, sir.  We recovered the last of Wei’s infused bacteria, and Alison has found the new source of plants.  It seems to me we’re largely done.  Except for finding Wei’s daughter.”

Langford glanced at Clay.  “I have to admit, I had a similar thought.  Until these three decided to enlighten me.”  He turned again to face Neely, Wil, and DeeAnn.  “Mr. Borger, perhaps you would like to start?”

Borger slowly nodded and stepped forward, clearing his voice.  “Uh…well, it kinda has to do with Alison’s discovery near Trinidad.  You see, the vault that was on top of the mountain in Guyana had to have been built…by someone.  Someone who traveled here.”  He nodded to Caesare.  “I explained to Steve a few weeks ago that coming here to do that likely meant it was a one-way trip.  Primarily due to distance, speed, and the amount of energy needed.”  Borger inhaled and looked around the room.  “So when you couple that with all the material involved, it’s likely they needed something to make the journey.  Like a ship.  And that seems to be exactly what Alison has discovered.  Which leads us back to the vault.”

Caesare furrowed his brow.  “The vault was destroyed, Wil.”

“I know.  But I’ve been thinking.”  He took another deep breath.  “See, if it were me…and I had to travel all that way…I wouldn’t just build one.”

“What?”

“I said I wouldn’t build just one.”

“But what does that mean?” Caesare asked.

Borger replied with a hint of excitement.  “So, think about it.  Whoever it was had to travel an awful long way.  Remember, Palin and his people can create portals, but there’s a catch.  Distance.  He explained that the farther the distance, the greater the energy required, becoming exponential.  So at a certain distance, the resources available to create enough energy would be exhausted, which is exactly what was happening to them.  He told us they were running out.”

Caesare nodded.  “So if whoever built that vault traveled by ship…”

“It means they were likely coming from much further away, from a distance they simply
couldn’t
create a portal from.  This is part of why I think it was a one-way trip.  But here’s the thing, if they
did
travel all that way to create a safe place for their DNA, it means they’d have to be sure it would survive, right?”