The Rig 1: Rough Seas (6 page)

“Yeah, I can. Don't do it too often though. But come on, we're in a hurry.”

The pilot opened the door and stepped into his seat. Akhmed held up the second cup.

“Got you a coffee. Thanks for the help.”

“No worries. Thanks though!” The pilot took the cup of coffee and placed it in the cup holder he was lucky to have beside his seat. “Coming?”

“Yeah.”

Akhmed walked around and opened the door in the middle of the cargo helicopter. He got on board and strapped himself in and listened to the pilot talk to air traffic control. He heard and felt the engine springing to life and the whirring and whizzing of the rotors. And then there was a feeling in his stomach that told him he was becoming airborne. And he felt relieved. He was under way and the plan was working out.

Chapter Ten

Berry Stryker was the Central Operations Manager of ‘The City,’ which was just a fancy way of saying he had a big office close to the top of the rig and could boss people around without really knowing anything about how the place functioned. In reality, the man who really ran the place was the man with the small office next to his; his personal assistant, Reg McCoy.

Stryker rarely interfered with Reg's running of everything, but today had been one of those rare moments. For some inexplicable reason, Stryker had called all the researchers to his office. The marine biology researchers, the meteorology department, the geologists, the biologists and those people researching food production on this rig.

Wes, Joy and Sheila met Reg in the corridor outside Stryker's office.

“Sorry about this,” Reg said.

“What does he even want?” Wes asked him.

“No idea.”

Reg shrugged and checked whether Stryker had hung up the phone yet.

“Think you can go in now.”

“Thanks,” Joy mumbled at him.

They went into Stryker's office. The man waved his hand at them, gesturing them to sit down as he dialed another number on his phone.

“Hi Dear, I'll be home tonight. Yes, of course...”

Wes rolled his eyes as he overheard the beginning of the conversation Stryker was having. It was obviously his wife. Or perhaps his mistress.

Another gaggle of scientists dribbled in and they could hear Reg apologizing to them in the corridor outside the office. It took a while for everyone to enter the office, which suddenly did not look as big as it was. Joy wondered whether they should not have used one of the big conference rooms on the same floor.

Stryker was still on the phone and still talking to what appeared to be his wife. All those gathered looked at each other, wondering whether anyone knew what would be the point of this meeting.

It took another five minutes before Stryker hung up and even paid any of them any attention. His eyes rested on Sheila, who was wearing a short skirt and a tight blouse. He was gazing at her legs and her chest without any care about the company he was in. Sheila pulled her skirt down as far as she could and crossed her arms; she felt rather uncomfortable under the man's lecherous gaze. Reg coughed discreetly and Stryker snapped out of it.

“Good to see you here, too, Dr. Briggs. A woman of your renown and beauty is very welcome here.”

“Thanks,” mumbled Sheila, still very uncomfortable.

“I'll keep this short,” Stryker began to address the gathered assembly. “Your emergency precautions aren't up to scratch.”

Every single person there looked flabbergasted. There were standard procedures in case of an emergency and they all knew them and were fully prepared for them.

“In case this place has to be evacuated, your research will be destroyed. We can't have that.” Stryker looked around the room and tried to stare down any questions. Wes spoke up though. “But we can't save our research in the case of an evacuation. There simply isn't time to get every scrap of information packed up and then make it to the boats or choppers. And I doubt there is even space for it.”

Stryker looked furious at being challenged, but he contained himself and smiled

“That is why you won't do that. You of course digitalize all your data. Well, you will make backup copies on external drives which you will take with you in case of an evacuation. And all the samples you take and process are sent to the mainland after you are done. You will begin with that A.S.A.P.”

Reg flinched at the use of the managerial jargon and he sighed as he realized how much extra work it would mean for all of these hard working researchers. He reached for his tablet and began checking the transport logs.

“Sorry sir, but apart from that helicopter that will arrive in a few minutes there will only be the possibility to ship all that out with the supply ship at four today.”

That was in three hours. He could see everyone swearing.

“Well, get moving then,” Stryker snapped.

“What a douche bag!”

Joy ejected her venom as soon as they were outside in the corridor.

“Why the hell does he want to do that?”

Wes shrugged.

“I don't know. Just know we're going to be working like mad to catalogue everything and pack it up before that ship leaves.”

“I'll help,” Sheila said, touching Wes' hand. “It’s the least I can do.”

“Thanks,” Wes said, taking her hand and giving it a little squeeze.

Joy's eyes shot daggers at them, but she bit her lip and kept quiet.

“I'll give Dave a call, he can start with the backups immediately.”

Chapter Eleven

Dave had already started by the time the others got back, but he refused to work on an empty stomach. In fact he was fuming at the amount of unnecessary work and needed the break from the lab and the control room to calm down. He had begun making the backup copies of all the data he had, and his computer needed an hour to process it. As it was doing that, he went up to the sandwich shop in the center of ‘The City’ with Joy while Wes and Sheila began packing up samples and specimens.

“Fucking bastard,” he raged as they walked down the corridor to the sandwich place. “Why the hell does he want to do this?”

Joy shrugged.

“No idea. It's odd, but then most of the things Stryker decides on his own are weird and make no sense.”

Dave felt himself calm down a bit as a thought hit him.

“Suppose...”

He stopped in the middle of the corridor.

“Suppose what?” Joy looked at him curiously.

“Nah...”

Dave shook his head and walked on again.

“Suppose what?” Joy asked again, this time grabbing his shoulder and turning him around to face her.

“Well, maybe he knows something.”

Joy frowned.

“Knows what?”

She let her hand drop from Dave's shoulder.

Dave sighed.

“You're just going to call me crazy and paranoid and a conspiracy theorist. But I think he might know something, maybe even set up something that will mean this place has to be evacuated soon.”

Joy bit her lip and thought for a moment.

“That doesn't sound crazy at all. I would actually not be surprised at all if that were the case.”

Dave turned and walked in the direction of the sandwich place again. Joy followed him. It was not far and within a minute they were joining a short line. Dave ordered a breakfast baguette, which contained a Full English. He knew it was a calorie bomb, but he just loved it. Joy got a ciabatta with tuna and they stood in line again as they waited for their orders to be prepared.

“Do you think there's any way to confirm that theory?” Joy asked Dave suddenly.

Dave thought a while and then shook his head.

“Not unless I can hack into the NSA database and check who he's called and then hack his provider and find the recording of the call.”

Joy gave him a blank look and he realized that comment went over her head. He opened his mouth to explain, but then a thought came into his head.

“Actually...”

He thought it over again. There were not supposed to be any supply ships coming in today. He kept meticulous track of it because of the diving schedule. They also did their research close to the surface of course, and they could not do those dives if supply ships were coming in because of the danger of the divers being sucked into the props. He told Joy so and she frowned again.

“If we can check the log and see when that ship was booked to come, we can be sure whether something fishy is going on or not.”

Joy nodded. It was a good plan.

“Reg will know. He's got access to all those logs. Let's go and find him.”

“Food first,” Dave said, as he picked up their sandwiches. “Remember, I don't work on an empty stomach.”

***

They found Reg in the control room of the drill. He tended to go down there when they began their test drills. It was, after all, the heart of the rig and the main purpose of the whole structure. Never mind all the “green” stuff around it, the scientific research center or the “city of the future” meme that had been circulating, this was an oil rig and would always remain an oil rig. So he went down there every time they began drilling.

“Reg?” Dave ducked his head into the control room. “Can I have a word?”

“Not no
w
,
Henderson. We're beginning the drills again. I'll have time for you in twenty minutes.”

“Won't take a minute. It's important.”

“So is this. Twenty minutes.”

Dave stepped back into the corridor and shrugged. “He won't talk to me.”

“Let me try,” Joy said. She undid the top two buttons of her cardigan and pushed her breasts up so they sat perkily inside her Wonder bra. She pulled the elastic band out of her hair and let it fall around her shoulders. She checked her reflection in the window of one of the offices on the corridor and then stepped into the control room.

Joy lay her hand on Reg's shoulder to get his attention and then leaned over the panel he was seated at. “Anything happening?”

Reg looked up, wanting to snap at her, but he was completely taken aback by her appearance. He had always been attracted to Joy, and her practically pushing her cleavage into his face completely took all sensible thoughts from his head.

“Nuh...” he managed to say.

“Listen Reg, Dave and I just want to look at the shipping logs. Is that possible? Please?” She spoke on a honey sweet tone, knowing full well the effect she was having on Reg.

“Drill engaged, Reg,” the controller said. He never bothered to regale Reg with all the technical aspects, because Reg did not understand them anyway.

“Uhm, good.” Reg nodded to him before turning his attention back to Joy. “Sure.”

“Thanks, Reg.” She flashed a smile at him.

Reg grabbed his tablet and pulled up the ship logs.

“Seems there's pressure coming from underneath, Reg,” the controller said, looking at the sensors.

“Good, good,” Reg answered, without thinking.

He pulled up the ship logs and handed his tablet to Joy.

“Not sure what you want with that though. It's not going to change the fact that you need to get all that stuff done before four o'clock.”

Joy stood up straight and took the tablet. Immediately, she began scrolling through the log until she found the day's entry.

“Sorry for the extra work though. Not my idea,” Reg remarked, seeming genuinely sorry for his boss' decision.

“That's okay, Reg. It's not your fault.”

Joy pulled up the data of today's ship and immediately noticed something odd. It was not the usual shipping company. This ship came from Los Angeles, not from San Diego, and there was something else odd. Normally, Reg or some other staff ordered the supply ships. Not this time. This time it had been Stryker himself who had ordered the ship.

Just as Joy began to turn around and tell Dave in the corridor, the controller whooped. He pulled up a video feed from below and as Joy looked, she saw a cloud of black appear on the screen.

“Oh my God! Gentlemen!” The controller said. “And lady,” he quickly added. “We have just struck oil!”

Chapter Twelve

Akhmed rolled the last crate into the cargo lift on the helipad. Unloading had been hard work and he was freezing. It was a warm day by any measure, but the way the wind swept across the helipad would make anyone feel the chill in his bones. He walked down the stairs himself and took the crate from the cargo lift.

It had taken him an hour to move all the crates from the helicopter to the deck below the helipad. The pilot had not helped him this time; he had been called to the offices immediately to file the paperwork. Now he had to move all the crates down to the Central Plaza and begin to set everything up on the stage. It was a lot of work, but in the end it would be worth it, he figured.