Note: I really felt my tale was more a two-part episode, rather than a story and its sequel; and so, we now turn the corner from our main antagonist, the squid, to the hidden antagonist, the mystery woman on the island. Hope you enjoy! Lynn : )
(Part II)
Chapter Thirteen
Kowalski watched from the flying sub's monitor as Captain Crane and Admiral Nelson swam into the darkness of sea; the black diving suits quickly becoming lost where at sixty feet below the surface, the filtering light from above lent little aid. With the officers no longer in view, Ski reached and flipped a switch, watching as the crash doors slid over FS1's windows, blocking all light from inside the cockpit of the flying sub. He checked the monitor, switching between the cameras mounted on the hull and verified they were in working order and then sat back for what was going to be a long wait, with the conversation he had just had still fresh in his mind.
Captain Crane tested his regulator with a blow of breath and then reached for his face mask. "Are you're orders clear?" he asked Kowalski.
"Aye Sir, stay low until I hear from you at two-hour intervals. If you miss three check-ins, I'm to break radio silence and contact Seaview," Ski replied, disappointed that he was left babysitting the flying sub, but understanding that his part in the mission was very important. He was concerned, however, that the Skipper had built in such a long delay before he could contact Seaview for help; a lot could happen in six hours.
"Very well; you're our safety net, Ski. This is primarily a fact-finding mission, we'll only engage if we're forced to; otherwise, we'll rely on the Navy to clean house," he encouraged.
"Aye, aye, Sir. I'll be ready for whatever you need," the loyal seaman replied, willing to risk life and limb for his commanding officers. It was a long ways from the crewman who had whined and complained the entire voyage to the arctic when Captain Crane first came aboard three years ago. He'd learned to respect the Captain by the end of that voyage, and it was no secret that he and every other man aboard Seaview would follow him all the way to Davy Jones' Locker, believing the Skipper would find a way out again.
"If we find anything at all," the Admiral interjected with half-smile as he lowered his face mask.
Captain Crane lowered his mask as well, but didn't join in the levity of the moment. The look in his eye was something Ski had seen before, it was the one that was all business; the one he had before he left on ONI missions. It was a clear signal that the Captain fully expected to find just what they were looking for on the island; namely, some sort of laboratory to process the samples from the fissure. And it wasn't unreasonable to assume that a secret set-up like this would be well-guarded.
Ski sighed audibly, eyeing the black diving suit in the storage rack and wishing he was riding shotgun with the Admiral and the Skipper instead holding down the fort. Be that as it may, he was determined to do his part, and since Captain Crane hadn't actually ordered him to return to Seaview, he figured he'd been given some leeway in the matter. Maybe it was just an oversight on the Skipper's part; he seriously doubted that. Whichever the case, he planned on using the loop hole to lend whatever aid his commanding officers needed… but for now, it was a waiting game.
# # # # #
It had been a good swim to shore, necessitated by the pristine clear blue waters that surrounded the island and the need to keep the flying sub from being spotted from the air. Lee tugged off his head gear as tiny droplets of water ran down his face. He was still breathing heavy but not excessively, from the swim and then the dash to cover; it was a testament to his endurance and fitness. Even more impressive was the stamina of his partner; twenty years his senior and yet Harriman Nelson was ever as fit and breathing no heavier than he.
Silently, they both shed their dive suits in favor of green jungle fatigues they carried in water proof packs, then hid their tanks and gear in the ample foliage.
Lee sent a quick signal to Kowalski indicating they had landed safely before tucking the transmitter away into a side pocket; though it didn't transmit voices, it was the communication device of choice due the flying sub's current depth. "Which way, Sir?"
"The relay station should be about two miles inland," Harry replied with a hand motion in the direction they should go.
The two trekked through the jungle of the small island, hundreds of miles from the nearest inhabited island. The foliage was dense, slowing their progress as they worked their way toward the high-point of the island, a rock dome forged from volcanic activity that had long-since lay dormant. The relay station was positioned near the top, but still below the tree line in order to protect the equipment from high winds and thus, offering cover for their approach.
They avoided cutting a path, choosing rather to weave in and around the brush, resulting in a cat-like prowl that was quiet and purposeful.
"Lee," Harry said quietly, pointing toward the ground at a four inch diameter cable mostly concealed by the reaching fronds of the ferns. It was the cable they were tracking, and a good sign that they were headed the right way.
Lee acknowledged with a nod, his mood solemn and clearly focused on their task.
"About another half-mile," the Admiral estimated, continuing on and adding even more vigilance to their trek.
Then next ten minutes were spent hiking a definite incline, a sign that they were nearing relay station's mountain base. They were nearing their goal when they spotted their first signs of life; a fresh boot track in the damp forest floor.
Lee knelt on one knee by the track, quickly assessing it and then looked up at Harry.
"Less than an hour ago," he stated flatly and then rose. Though it appeared they had been correct in their logic, one boot print wasn't enough to call in the marines just yet. Taking a stealthier approach, they crouched their way along, using the bushes and foliage of the jungle to conceal themselves. Within five minutes they were staring straight at a building in the middle of the jungle, with a camouflaged net covering the roof, cloaking its existence from the air.
"How did they build this in one year?" Lee asked in a whisper, while quickly surveying the jungle for signs of the road they would have needed to construct the sophisticated metal structure built partially into the mountain side.
"It's a pre-fab modular unit," Harry surmised. "See how they cleared out the trees here," he pointed out. "My guess is they used a helicopter to lower the walls in sections."
Lee blew a breath out in disbelief. "Admiral, can you imagine the money involved in this?" he asked incredulously. "Is there any chance that we've accidentally run across a government project that we weren't supposed to know about?"
"No, I don't think so, Lee; but you're right about the amount of capital a venture like this would require, particularly with the subterfuge involved."
"The next question is, how do we get in without their knowledge?" Lee asked, looking over the narrow windows which offered no access due to their size. "There's got to be more than one way in," he considered thoughtfully.
"It's built into the mountain, perhaps there's another door hidden somewhere along the base," Harry postulated, "only one way in also means only one way out, and they've been too calculating to have not given themselves an escape route."
Lee nodded in agreement then checked his watch, noting it was time to contact Kowalski. He sent a quick flash message to check in and then stowed his radio back in his pocket.
"Let's split up and check around the base of the mountain," Harry suggested.
"Sounds good," he agreed, "We'll meet back here in fifteen minutes."
They checked their watches and synchronize the time before heading off in opposite directions to begin their reconnaissance.
# # # # #
Lee followed the tree line, careful to stay well-hidden as he looked for another entrance into the building that had been both unexpected and quite out of place on the supposedly uninhabited island. He stopped and crouched low, surveying the base of the mountain and spotting nothing unusual; at least, without losing his advantage of staying out of sight. Glancing at his watch, he realized it was time to work his way back to meet Harry and started to turn when he spotted something unusual on the forest floor; an impression or some kind of print was partially obscured by a low hanging fern. Moving the frond out of the way, he was stunned to find an incredibly large boot print. The size alone was shocking at an estimated thirteen inches. He didn't think the large print to be a coincidence, or that a man of unusual size would fortuitously happen to be on the very island they suspected housed the fissure research. The evidence was circumstantial at best, and still not enough to call in the marines; they would need to find a way into the facility to see for themselves.
Not wanting to miss the rendezvous with Harry, he continued back to the meeting place to report what he had found.
# # # # #
Harry moved with all the quiet resolve of a jungle cat on the trail of its prey. His ONI training and experience afforded him the skills that he now called upon to slink nearly silently through the jungle. The years had been kind to him, and despite his nasty habit of smoking - as Jamie would characterize it, he had retained both his health and agility into his mid-fifties. His fitness and training, however, was no match for what came next.
A twig snapping behind him was his first clue as he turned rapidly to face two men. The first of no distinction, save the basic henchman he'd come to expect in matters such as these. The second, so extraordinary that he was somewhat taken by surprise at the man he estimated to be over seven feet tall, with proportionately sized shoulders and bearing.
Quickly, he went for his holster, but the long reach of his opponent batted his arm away with the force of the encounter sending him sprawling to the jungle floor. Harry wasted no time making another move for his gun, but the giant of a man was upon him and one well-placed, if not clumsily administered blow to his jaw silenced the admiral's futile attempts at any further defense. The large man wheeled back to dispense another punch from his oversized fist but was stopped with a sharp rebuke from his counterpart.
"No, Bremer," his partner commanded, "she wants him alive."
Immediately the giant stopped, though his fist remained clenched for a moment as he breathed deeply, reining in the sharp spike of aggression that had come all too easily. Though a rather average height of 5'10", his partner was a small man in comparison, yet the giant obeyed.
The smaller man moved closer, pushing Harry's shoulder with the point of his boot to gauge his lucidness but garnering no response from the downed man. "Bring him along," he ordered, the red stripe down the length of his arm denoting his rank as an officer. His black uniform differed from the giant, who instead, wore a long white tunic over tan pants and belted around the waist. His clothing was far more reminiscent of the Middle Ages in simplicity and function, and carried no indication of rank or status, whatsoever. He did, however, wear a band around his wrist, its purpose far darker than denoting rank.
The giant hesitated for a moment before leaning over and gathering the unconscious man into his arms and waited for the order to return to base, daring not to think on his own or to even presume his next move.
A rustling in the bushes behind the officer offered no cause for alarm as the smaller man turned without concern to give his next orders to a second giant who had just arrived. He too, was dressed in the same peasant-like tunic outfit and wearing a similar wrist band.
"Garrud, find Crane," he ordered before motioning Bremer to follow, carrying the limp body of Admiral Harriman Nelson.
# # # # #
"He did what!?" Chip Morton shouted from the bunk in sickbay, rising slightly before flinching in pain at the movement.
"Calm down, Chip!" Jamie urged, hurrying from across the deck. "You keep that up and you'll drive that rib straight into your lung, and I guarantee you'll be flat on your back for weeks!" he warned.
Chip raised a hand to quell the doctor's concern. "Okay, Jamie… okay," he conceded breathily, the pain an instant reminder of why he was still lying in sickbay getting a status report from Bobby instead of being in the thick of things. Carefully, he lowered his hand to rest over the bandage on his chest covering the stitches where the broken rib had pierced through. Even though he had been lucky that the compound fracture hadn't perforated his lung, it had still pressed uncomfortably against the organ, resulting in bruised and very tender tissues.
Jamieson checked his patient then returned to care for another crewman. Though the outburst had been unfortunate, it hadn't exactly been unexpected. In true XO fashion, Chip had awakened asking about Seaview and the status of repairs, but had been surprised when it was Bobby O'Brien who entered sickbay instead of Lee Crane. He'd been zonked out on pain meds when the Captain left the boat and this was the first the dedicated officer had heard of it.
Breathing shallowly, and having learned a valuable lesson in how fast he could move, Chip resumed his questions with a much more refined approach. "Tell me again why Captain Crane decided to go off without proper backup," he stated succinctly, this time more in control, but with no less fire in his eyes.
# # # # #
The sounds of the jungle quieted in an almost prearranged pause of silence. The occasional bird squawking; the chirping of the plentiful winged-insects; the frog's throaty call… all the background noises that remind one that the jungle was alive… stopped. Lee, cognizant of his surroundings, stopped as well and crouched low. Something had disturbed the serenity of the dense forest life. The breeze was almost non-existent, making the silence even more deafening as he listened for the source of the jungle's concern. A sound caught his attention and he focused toward its source, while huddling beside a large bush to hide his position. Another sound clumsily announced the approach of something large and heavy. Not a cat, he reasoned, for such a jungle creature would surely be more cunning in its approach. The heaviness of the steps suggested perhaps a wild boar, almost as dangerous as a panther, especially when surprised or cornered. He crouched lower and watched; his eyes glued for the arrival of the beast. Leaves rustled and moved as something passed through their midst, when at last, it stepped into a clearing. The feral cry of a rather large boar squealed loudly upon catching his scent and bolted into the jungle in another direction.
Lee blew out a silent breath of relief, and rose slowly from his position only to be met by the subtle sound of a rustling leaves behind him. He turned sharply and froze for only a second, as his eyes trailed upwards to very large man who had succeeded in sneaking up behind him.
Over a foot taller than the 6'1" captain, the giant of a man was also proportionately larger in shoulder width and arm reach. A swift swing of the giant's arm produced a whiff of air when it failed to connect with the leaner, more agile man as Lee dodged the attack. Normally one to have the advantage of his own height and reach, he found both neutralized by his opponent, for it only took one long stride, awkward as it was, and another swing of the arm from the opposite direction to connect in a hard hit to his shoulder, sending him sprawling to the ground. Quickly, he rolled out of the way of reaching hands and found his footing, delivering a double-fisted blow to the giant's back when he out-maneuvered his slower-moving adversary. The giant roared in sudden pain as Lee struck another blow, this time to his lower back, but the massive man didn't succumb to what would have been a devastating strike to any other normal man and, instead, instinctively answered with a violent swing of his arm as he turned into his foe. Even though Lee was already moving out of the way of the expected retaliation, he was once again caught by the long reach, this time connecting with his head; the impact knocking him off his feet. He ended up on the ground, rolling to one side to escape the giant's offensive assault but moving far more sluggishly as he fought dizziness, a prelude to losing consciousness if he wasn't careful and moved too fast. But before he could complete the turn to push himself to his knees, he was man-handled and turned over with his back on the ground and held by a fist-full of shirt collar. He barely had time to catch the large over-sized knuckles that made contact with his jaw. A sharp blinding pain was immediately followed by blackness as his head dropped lifelessly back.
The giant, full of primal rage raised his fist again, snarling in an animalistic need to vanquish his opponent completely, and drew back his arm ready to deliver the next blow that would surely have inflicted far more damage than his previous strikes. He paused for a moment in self-check, considering the helplessness of his victim, then snarled and drove his fist downward.