Parallelogram : Day Two : Chapter 57

Five Days, Eleven Hours, Twenty Minutes

Donovan couldn't be certain, but he thought the loud crack that sounded through his cell phone was a gunshot. His heart skipped a beat as he pressed the receiver closer to his ear, and he asked, "Chloe?"

He didn't hear an immediate response. He listened closely. Was that two people ... struggling?

"Chloe?" he repeated. "Chloe ... are you there?"

There was a rustling of clothing on clothing, of skin slapping on skin, and then he heard a loud 'crack' as he guessed his friend had dropped the phone. It rattled loud in his ears for a moment, and, then, after a pause, he heard a familiar voice says, "Hello?"

"Who is this?"

"This is Dr. Isaac Mentnor."

"Isaac?"

"Is this ... Craig, is that you?"

"Isaac!" Donovan cried. "What the hell happened? Where's Chloe?"

The older man cleared his throat. "I'm afraid that she's dead."

"What? What happened?"

"Craig, she wasn't who you thought she was."

"Isaac," he began, "what are you talking about? Where are you?"

"I'm at the White House," he answered. "We've been on a blackout, given the present circumstances for which I'm certain Bradley has made you aware. Not too long ago, I located the source of the communications jamming to the War Room. Chloe agreed to come with me into the service bay under the capital. I thought it was to provide assistance, but, as it would seem, Miss Vandemark was the source of the sabotage."

"Chloe?" Donovan asked. "Isaac ... you've got to be kidding! I've known her since I relocated to Washington. Are you saying that she's a traitor?"

"I'm only telling you what I know for certain, Craig," the scientist confirmed. "I'm telling you that she accompanied me beneath the White House. I thought she wanted to help me, but now it seems that her intention was to stop me from removing this device that's impeding the President's ability to use our satellite defense systems. Apparently, Chloe was working in collaboration with Senator Pendley."

"Isaac, you've got to get out of there."

"I will," he agreed, "once I remove this jamming device."

"I'll call the White House," the younger man insisted, "and I'll have them send a back-up team to where you are."

"No need, Craig," Mentnor said. "I believe ... I believe I have it."


"Captain Brooke, this is the White House."

"Hello, sir. It's good to hear from our commander-in-chief. We haven't heard a word since all government functions went dark yesterday."

"Captain," Stoddard tried, pulling his face out of his hands, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to dispense with the pleasantries for the time being. Can I ask what your situation is?"

"Sir?"

"Captain, what's the condition of your vessel? Have you been attacked? Is everything under your control?"

The woman cleared her throat. "Yes, sir. So far as I can tell you, we're smooth sailing in the Gulf."

The chief nodded. "Very good. Stay on the horn, captain. Whatever you do, keep this line open."

"Of course, sir."


Pendley reached out and tapped Watanabe on the shoulder.

"Fire," he ordered.


"Mr. President, I've raised Captain Brooke on the sat phone."

"Captain," Campbell said, "it's good to hear your voice."

"Thank you, sir."

"How's your boat, captain?"

"She's sailing smart, Mr. President."

The War Room aide reached up and wiped his eyes. He thought the light on his satellite console had suddenly changed from 'red' to 'green,' and, with a fingertip, he tapped the bulb lightly once, twice, three times.

When it didn't change color, he shot up from his chair and raced toward the conference room.


"Sir," Stephens announced quickly as he strode toward the Crypt's command chair. "We're getting indications that the satellite jamming system has been disabled."

Pendley turned to face the man. Reaching out with both hands, he took hold of him by the shirt front, forcing their two faces closer together.

"What the hell did you say?"


"SIR, THE SATELLITE TRACKING SYSTEM JUST CAME BACK ONLINE!"

Stoddard couldn't believe his ears ... or his plain dumb luck.

He reached out for the comm relay, and he hung up on Pendley.

"Who did we lose?" President Campbell asked. "Who did we just lose?"

"Pendley," the chief explained. "And we didn't lose him. I hung up."

"You did what?"

"Sir, I don't know how or why it's happened," Stoddard began, "but our satellites went green." Tapping another button on the console, he reactivated the sat comm link to the Basilisk. "Captain, are you still holding?"

"I'm here, sir."

"Thank you," the chief replied. "Please stand by."

He placed the call back on hold. Turning, he ordered the aide, "Tell those helicopters upstairs to remain parked on the White House lawn. Tell everyone to hold the order to evacuate. Now that we have some eyes in the sky we aren't running anywhere. Also, get someone to re-task one of our surveillance satellites over the Persian Gulf. Any sat will do. Get something in the area now."

"Sir, we've had continuous surveillance available to us since the first Gulf War."

"Then get that feed on the viewer in here five minutes ago."

"Chief Stoddard," he heard from captain. "I'm getting word that something is happening."

As the aide rushed out of the conference room, the man quickly tapped the release on the communications line.

"Say again, captain?"

"We're experiencing some kind of environmental storm, chief," Brooke said matter-of-factly. "I'm being told that ... as odd as this may sound ... we may've crossed into some kind of storm at sea."

"GET THEM OUT OF THERE, ETHAN!" the President ordered.

"Olivia," the chief tried, dropping into his chair, pressing his face close to the comm relay's mouthpiece, "I want you to listen to me."

"Can I ask you to hold, chief?" she asked. "The deck officer is reporting that we're entering a huge displacement of water, and this data isn't making any sense. I'd like to make heads-or-tails of it on my own, if you don't mind."

"Olivia!" he shouted into the microphone. "I want you to ignore everything you're hearing from the officers on your bridge, and I want you to focus only on what I'm telling you to do. I want you to take the Basilisk into a dive, as deep a dive as you can muster on the flip of a dime, captain, do you hear me? Get that ship down, as low as you can go, now!"

He heard the woman bark the order, but, then, to his shock, he heard an ear-shattering whine break over the open communications line. In pain, he slapped his hands around his ears and dropped back in the chair. Reacting as quick as he could, he deactivated the relay, and he sat in silence until the President asked, "What happened, Ethan?"

The chief sniffed as he relaxed in the chair.

"We've lost contact with the Basilisk, sir."

END of Chapter 57