Noah's Ark: Encounters (30 page)

Thirty-Four

J
AKE
’
S
HEIGHTENED
MENTAL
state was blown to smithereens with the torpedo. Reality crashed back into his head and he finally felt all the panic, the stress, and the desperation that he should have felt when he first saw the weapon deploy.
 

“Yes!” Daniel leapt into the air this time. His shrieks were joined by others, and Jake saw that the rest of the sailors were standing alongside.

The explosion was as impressive as the two others he had already seen. More so even, as the backdrop of the cruise liner gave it a sense of scale.

The explosive-tipped harpoon had found the torpedo just metres from the ship, and the resulting detonation caused her to roll heavily. Jake wasn’t worried. He knew the
Arcadia
was a stable old girl. There might be a few more cuts and bruises on board, but it was nothing compared to what could have been.

Behind them, a second explosion, just as loud. The men on the deck spun around to see another column of seawater rise into the air.

“Was that…” Daniel asked nervously.

“I hope so,” Jake said.

The radio in his pocket beeped, and a muffled voice called out. Jake had forgotten all about the device. He pulled it out and turned up the volume.

“…are you out there? Repeat,
Lance
?
Ambush
? Are you out there?”

“This is Captain Jake Noah.”

“Thank God! Captain, this is Rupert Bembridge of the security team. The hostage situation has taken a turn…”

Jake felt his legs go weak.

“The hostages are safe, but some of the security team had to intervene. There are three officers inside the classroom, exposed to the virus. We really need that antidote.”

“Understood. Stand by, Officer Bembridge.”

Jake switched the channel on the radio. He looked out at the ocean. No submarine had surfaced. There was no indication as to which boat had taken the hit. He checked the transceiver, then lifted it to his mouth. “Ralf, if you’re out there, old friend, we need your help, and we need it now…”

• • •

“What did that mean, ‘stand by’?” The woman from the security team was hopping about nervously.

“I don’t know,” Bembridge replied. “But I trust Captain Noah. He’ll come through, I’m sure of it.”

“I wish I had your confidence. And I wish I knew what the bloody hell’s going on out there. It sounds like world war three.”

Bembridge experienced a moment’s doubt, wondering if he had acted too impulsively. No, he was sure he had done the right thing. It had looked like Lucya had the situation under control, but when the Korean thug had got his hands around her throat and she didn’t kick out or fight back, he had understood: she was suffering from the effects of the virus. Partially paralysed, she couldn’t save herself. They had had to storm the room.

“How is she?” He looked down at the chief radio officer. The third security man was with her.
 

“She’s weak, but it could have been worse. Dunno how long she’s got.”

“Keep your voice down, mate. Let’s not worry the kids.” He looked at the children, huddled in the corner of the room. The female officer had returned to them and was telling them a story. Erica sat by her side, a leader to the others more than one of them.

In the opposite corner were the Koreans. Between the virus and their injuries, they were in a sorry state. Only three of them posed any kind of threat, and they had been tied up together. Of the others, one was on the cusp of death.

The teacher had been moved out of sight, hidden under a coat taken from a North Korean. Bembridge wondered how many more bodies would join hers before they got out of there.

“You did the right thing, Rupert,” the man on the floor said. “We had to help Lucya. We should have gone in earlier. Screw the virus.”

“I hope Max sees it that way. He’ll be mad. I’m going to be thrown off the team.”

“Max should have been here giving the orders, not gallivanting about doing who knows what. If anyone is due a reprimand, it’s him.”

Lucya gave a moan. Her eyelids flickered, but remained closed. The security man stroked her head. Some of her hair came away in his hand.

Bembridge sighed loudly, and walked back to the door.

On the other side he could see Vardy. He was talking into a radio, his face animated, his voice rising. Rupert couldn’t make out the words, couldn’t even tell if the man was happy or angry. Then the doctor threw the radio down on the floor and ran. Away from the classroom.

The minutes passed slowly. The children settled. One or two even complained they were hungry. Lucya looked in a bad way though.

After standing at the door for so long, hoping in vain to see the doctor return, Bembridge’s legs started to feel numb. He turned to find a seat, to take the weight off, and discovered he could no longer move them. For Rupert, it was a horrible return to the events of a few weeks prior. He had been one of the later victims of the virus. He’d felt the paralysis before, but it had attacked shortly before they had found the miracle drug that flushed it out. That was the old virus, the version that killed slowly and painfully. This virus killed quickly, and just as painfully.

“What have I done?” he asked himself. “I’ve killed three more people.”

“Look lively, lad,” a voice nearby said cheerily. He turned back to the door. Standing outside were three medics dressed in overalls and gas masks, and brandishing syringes.

Thirty-Five

T
HEY
HAD
ASSEMBLED
in the medical suite. Coote was awake at last, and there was no question of him being left out of the briefing.

There wasn’t enough space for chairs, so the members of the committee had to stand. It wasn’t just the committee. A security officer Jake knew only as Trent was present too, standing in for the still inexplicably absent Max Mooting. Vardy stood in for Grau Lister, who was resting up after having attended to the Mitchells. Captain Ove Kolstad was seated in a wheelchair, representing the interests of the original
Lance
crew.

At the foot of the bed, Submariner Ewan Sledge was presenting the findings of their exploratory diving expedition.

“In conclusion, we believe the submarine was a Chinese Type 095—”

“What?” Coote couldn’t help butting in. “You mean to tell me that project was real?”

“It would seem so, yes. There’s a second dive to the wreck taking place as I speak, but everything we’ve seen so far matches the intelligence we had on the alleged 095 program. The latest stealth technology, acoustic tiles, and a near silent pump-jet propulsor. Virtually undetectable to passive and active sonar. She was powered by an advanced reactor. Gunson will want to take a closer look, but the images he’s seen so far have impressed and scared him in equal measure. The reactor easily matches our own in terms of technology.”

“So they weren’t Koreans? It was a different set of survivors?” Jake asked.

“No, this is where it gets weird. Almost all the bodies we’ve found down there so far were wearing North Korean uniforms. The same uniforms as the men who took the
Lance
.”

“Is the reactor safe? What about weapons?” Coote stroked his beard.

“The reactor shut itself down and is perfectly safe. Still, we’re going to send Gunson down to check it over first hand, to be sure. As for weapons, there are more torpedoes on board, but we haven’t found any missiles or warheads. I don’t think the submarine was on operational deployment. I would guess she was still undergoing sea trials.”

“Sorry, Ewan, still confused about the crew.” Jake glanced around the room to see if he was the only person who didn’t understand. “It’s a Chinese submarine, with a North Korean crew. How does that work?”

“I honestly don’t know. Perhaps they captured it. Perhaps it was a joint project between the two nations. Our friends in the classroom are the only people who can shed any light on that matter now.”

“If they survive,” Coote said. He looked at Vardy, then at Jake. “Any news? Lucya?”

The surgeon lieutenant spoke up for all to hear. “The antidote is working, but we’ll have to keep them in quarantine for at least a few more days. We can’t risk that virus getting out. She’ll be fine though. Two of the Koreans, not so lucky. The virus was too quick for them.”

“And the children? Can we get them out?”

“They’re immune, but that doesn’t stop them carrying the virus. They’ll have to stay put as well. Spirits are high from what I’ve seen. Lucya has got them singing songs and making up stories. They want to see their parents, of course, and can’t really understand why that’s not possible. All things considered, they’re holding up well.”

Coote looked back at Ewan, nodding for him to continue.

“We’ll salvage as much as we can from the 095 wreck. There are some small firearms.” He couldn’t help but look at Jake as he said it. The captain rolled his eyes, but kept his mouth shut. “There’s also a good amount of food and medical supplies, and some spare uniforms that we can certainly use.”

“Nothing to suggest their motivation, you know, for trying to blow us up?” Jake asked.

Ewan shook his head. “Ralf will see what he can do with the computers. They might be wrecked by the seawater, but he thinks he’ll be able to get some data from the hard drives. We might find end-of-the-world-scenario orders on there.”

“I doubt that very much,” Coote said, throwing a look at Jake. “That’s not the sort of thing you keep in a computer. Look for a safe. It will probably be hidden. Check the computers too, though. If that boat was Chinese, she may be carrying access codes for Yulin.”

Jake raised a hand, and his eyebrows.

“Yulin Naval Base,” Ewan explained. “Hainan Island, southern China. Huge base with twenty submarine pens built right under a mountain. Had the Americans all worked up a few years ago. They say you can sail a couple of aircraft carriers right in there it’s so huge.”

“You think it survived, Coote?” Jake perked up.

“Why not? The underground part of Faslane did. If we wanted to build a sizeable onshore community anywhere, Yulin could be an excellent place to start. Better climate than Faslane too. If there are other subs out there, they could have had the same idea. So if nothing else, I think we could find more survivors in the area, even if the base itself is no longer accessible.”

“I’ll ask Ralf to make it a priority,” Ewan said, scribbling notes as he spoke.

Jake raised a hand again. “Ewan? You said most of the men were wearing North Korean uniforms. Not all?”

The submariner looked up from his notebook. He looked at Jake, then at Ove, then back at Jake. “Perhaps we can talk about that later?”

“Ana,” Ove croaked. He had turned white. His hands were shaking. “You found Ana, didn’t you?”

Ewan grimaced, visibly uncomfortable. “I really think we should discuss this in private—”

“Tell me!”

He took a deep breath. “There were two more people on board. Not Koreans. One was a woman. We’ve recovered the bo— we’ve brought her aboard and she’s with Janice now. I believe it is your wife, yes.” Ewan looked at his feet. “I’m so sorry,” he added.

Ove nodded, the tears dripping onto his lap. “I knew. I pretended it wasn’t true, but really, I knew. Can I see her?”

“Of course. Janice is…preparing her.” He looked to Jake. “The other man…”

“Stieg?”

“Yes.”

“They took him to get information about us. To evaluate the threat.”

“I think so.”

“Did they…hurt him?”

Ewan didn’t reply. He didn’t need to. Everyone already knew the answer.

“Um, I think that’s everything on the submarine,” he said eventually. “I’ll hand over to Martin now, who will bring us up to date on the state of the fleet.”

Ewan moved quickly to the side, leaving the floor for the chief engineer. Martin thanked him, and began his briefing with some dull information about checks and repairs being carried out to the hull and the generators, necessary due to the proximity of the explosion. Aside from that, everything was looking great, he assured them. The
Ambush
was connected up again, and the
Lance
was also being attached in such a way as to allow free passage between the ships. Everyone nodded and murmured in the right places, but the mood had been irreparably dampened by the news of the two victims.

• • •

When the briefing was over and everyone was filing out of medical, Jake grabbed Trent, the security officer.

“Still no news? On Max and Grace?”

“’Fraid not. I’m thinking of organising a door-to-door, top-to-bottom. Find out who saw them last, and where.”

“You won’t get far with that. Nobody ever sees anything when people go missing on cruise ships, believe me.”

“There is one other possible lead. I’m on my way to investigate now.”

“I’ll join you, if you don’t mind?”

“Of course not.”

Trent led the way to the lift, and pressed the button for deck twelve. There was a moment’s awkward silence as they rose through the heart of the ship.

Jake spoke first. “Where are we off to?”

“Cabin 1224. Elizabeth Lethbridge. She runs the—”

“The Colaeus. Yes, I’ve met her.” Jake’s mouth curled downwards as he spoke. He looked sideways at Trent, and both allowed themselves a smile. “Not a fan then, Trent?”

“I’ve had my fair share of run-ins with her.”

“Haven’t we all. What’s she’s doing all the way up here?”

“I think she nagged Silvia into finding her a nice cabin overlooking the plaza. Amazing what you can get away with when you control the food.”

They arrived at the stateroom and Trent knocked politely. Lethbridge answered wearing a pink dress, something which took both men by surprise, unaccustomed as they were to seeing her in anything but chef’s whites.

“Yes?”

“Miss Lethbridge?”

“Yes?”

“Security. You called us. About a hole?”

“That was ages ago. I suppose you had better come in.”

The cabin’s longest wall was covered from top to bottom with pictures from around the world. Jake recognised them as destinations they had cruised to in the
Spirit of Arcadia
. Venice, Freeport, Hamilton, Nova Scotia, Bora Bora, the North Pole, Maui, Amsterdam, Gibraltar, San Diego, Constanta, Christchurch…they went on and on, in no order that he could discern. It was only when he stepped back and squinted that he realised they had been arranged in such a way that their colours made a partial map of the word in a mosaic effect.