Deep Sea One (7 page)

He knew enough about people skills to read when someone did not want to talk during the flight. She seemed to be one of those, so the pilot kept quiet and hoped that the scenery would impress Dr. Gould. But Dr. Gould thought of other things than the majestic panorama. After Purdue briefed her she had plowed into her books and data disks about Nazi treasure and the U-boats that were supposed to transport it to various locations around the world. It was a fascinating, although generally unfounded, theory.

With her research Nina had discovered that a few U-boats went missing during the latter part of the Second World War, unaccounted for and never registered. Registered submarines from numerous countries that were using the XXI class were all accounted for, regardless of how and where their fate had finally led them. Three that she knew of never made it to their destinations after trying to reach a German ally, Japan, with supposed art treasures. It was a well-known fact that a lot of those treasures had never been recovered. The thought of maybe having found one of them excited her to no end. Not only would it finally initiate her success to open academic doors, but on a personal level, as a lover of history, the thought was undeniably exhilarating.

On the other hand, she could not find anything good about seeing Sam again. Her mother always told her that holding grudges only made life heavier, "like dragging an anvil strapped to your ankle." She gave it some thought and decided that Sam Cleave's betrayal was worth a bit of weight training on her part. Before she knew it, her flight had grown much shorter, speeding by with some good old contemplation.

"There is Deep Sea One, ma'am," Gary motioned with his head to his right, as the mighty structure came into sight. "Your new temporary home." Gary winked at her, hoping that the quiet passenger at least harbored a sense of humor.

"Gee, thanks," she said, keeping her tone lighter than her heart to appease the playful pilot. Besides, she enjoyed being addressed as "ma'am" instead of "doctor," for a change. It made her realize just how terrible and nonexistent her capacity as woman had become. She was far from the sexy carefree chick she used to be when she started studying. Now she was just a brain in a hot body that was never flaunted, a sexless drone with too many books. Gone was her flirtatious side, her passion and her whimsy. And funny thing was, she had not noticed until being addressed by her gender just then.

"It is huge! It looks like the death star or a city of mangled iron!" she exclaimed in awe, hoping that the isolation of the place would be kinder than the tent in the ice. There was as much chance of this group of people stranded on a desolate surface to turn on one another the same way the others had. "Is it actively running oil lines?"

"Yep," Gary said, "Built in 1986 and still going strong."

Nina's eyes took in all the intricate angles and beams, perfectly woven for functionality, but what scared her was the size of the drills and the cranes that silently lurched over the platform teeming with sea spray every time the giant ocean shifted under its blue grey blanket. As the Robbie slowly descended on the giant circle marked "H," Nina combed the area for Sam Cleave, but there were only four men standing under a corrugated metal roof. She recognized Purdue among them, nursing a huge mug of something he was using to warm his hands.

"How was your trip?" Purdue asked, when she stumbled along the platform in the wild water, which seemed to come from all sides.

"It was okay. Your pilot is nice," she shouted in the thunderous pattering, as he led her to the deck landing and down some stairs.

"Yea, he's Canadian. It is built in. Would you like a hot beverage while we wait?" he asked, as he closed the door, locking out the wild waves.

"Yes, please. I'm soaked. What are we waiting for?" she asked, and as her words left her mouth she knew the answer.

"Sam should be arriving soon, I think, and then we can have a look at the footage. Nina, you have to see this vessel. It is perfectly intact. Just some water corrosion, but otherwise it looks easily accessible. I must admit I have not been sleeping much since I first saw it on the minisub's camera footage," Purdue spilled.

"Oh, I know what that's like," Nina replied, quite curious to see the vessel. "Can we have a look?"

"I have to wait for Mr. Cleave, my dear. Is my charming company not enough?" he purred, and Nina suddenly remembered why she hated hearing his name. Hoping to break Purdue's advances, she threw in a question which had been plaguing her, "Why would you want to get a journalist in on your secret discovery, Mr. Purdue? Is that not directly counterproductive?"

"To document the findings, why else?" he said nonchalantly.

"And if he runs off and purges his knowledge for a price? After all, is it not his profession to inform and report about things other people wish to keep secret?" Nina almost shrieked. She failed miserably at hiding her defensiveness. It appeared that Sam Cleave was more of a sore spot for her than Purdue initially thought.

"Now, now, Nina, you know he was an invaluable member of the previous venture. If I recall correctly, he was your choice of companionship for most of the time. Can't you just tuck away that hostility?" Purdue coaxed, but Nina felt that he rather had the ability to provoke her rage.

"Whatever you say, Mr. Purdue. I hope you are paying him enough to keep your secret," she said, and looked out on the angry ocean, akin to her own frustration. Shamelessly she coveted a cigarette and wondered if there was any alcohol on Deep Sea One.

At the airfield Sam Cleave waited for the helicopter pilot to collect him from the lounge. On the table in front of him were his cell phone and an ashtray with four crumpled butts in it. He rhythmically kicked his duffle bag under the table while he looked out from the wide window to the goings-on of the airstrip. A blunt headache chiseled away at his brain, filling his skull with burning waves every time something loud happened. On the tender spot above his navel, nausea persisted that he could not rid himself of, no matter how many potions he prepared to alleviate the discomfort. There were few things worse than a hangover and today he had the pleasure to host one. Checking his watch he realized that there was time for one more cigarette before his ride would arrive. The orange fire of the burning tobacco brightened as he sucked in the smoke and he wondered what Purdue was up to this time.

He had not been given any more detail than the basic. Most important, his camera gear was needed. Apart from that he was not quite sure what it was all about, but he knew it was on the North Sea and had to be kept discreet. The money was extravagant, so Sam was happy to comply with anything Purdue wished to bribe him for. Knowing the flamboyant billionaire it was probably an island of mermaids he bought or maybe he managed to perfect what the USS
Eldridge
could not complete during the Philadelphia Experiment. Nothing would surprise him.

"Mr. Cleave," a man in a uniform addressed him. His voice was remarkably clear in the din of the roaring planes, something Sam did not appreciate.

"Yes."

"This way for the Purdue party," the man said loudly and led the way.

Good God, can your voice be any sharper?
Sam thought, as he gathered up his gear and followed.

A few hours later he was circling over Deep Sea One, marveling at the deserted location. It was far offshore and immediately Cleave grew suspicious. It was in international waters, not bound by any specific country's laws and that roused his bullshit meter. Cynicism was part of his job, not to believe what he saw on the surface. Why would the location of Purdue's oil rig be so far out? Unless he discovered a potent vein deeper in. The platform was enormous and it reminded him of the Eiffel Tower if it had been swallowed by the sea and lived there for two hundred years. His journalistic inquisitiveness took over and a thousand questions darted through his mind as they landed with a swaying jerk on the deck. What could be so damn secretive to a bloody oil rig? Exactly what kind of secret could possibly be kept here?

Sam saw a few men move up and down the iron stairs, as the pilot led him to the control rooms where he recognized Purdue's boisterous yapping. He heard another voice too, that of a woman.

"Nina," he gasped a little too loudly, as he entered the doorway and saw the small fire breather standing against the wall. Even though she expected him, she did not think that his actual arrival would ignite her hurt so much and she bit her lip in Purdue's presence.

"Welcome to Deep Sea One, Mr. Cleave," Purdue smiled. "Tea?"

Sam nodded briefly and looked at Nina, who glared at him with a hint of abhorrence from the brim of her cup. He had no idea that she was involved. Purdue sure had a knack, or is that a perverted amusement, for uniting foes just to watch the chemical chaos it birthed. This was probably why he was not told who else was involved, but now he was here, packed, ready and well paid. His imbursement was incentive enough to bear with Nina Gould and her fury.

"Mr. Purdue," Liam peeked in, "Phone call for you."

"Excuse me, Sam. Here—finish making your tea. I shall be back shortly," he smirked and shoved a mug in Sam's hand. For a moment the journalist wanted to go with his host, not wanting to be left alone with the bully. But he had to face her. In his opinion she had overreacted anyway and she had no reason to be mad.

"So you had to wedge in on this one too, huh? Not enough fame yet? Are Matlock's coattails finally withering?" she snapped at him in a hushed tone.

"What did I do, Nina? Come on. Out with it," he replied, as he busied himself with the kettle.

"I thought you had some integrity, Sam. I thought you were like me, not easily swayed by the guile of fame and glory and money. So what do you do? You whore out on me!" she hissed, moving closer to him so that she could comfortably chew him out.

"Excuse me?" Sam frowned. He refused to be talked to this way, a side effect of growing some self-esteem. "You knew that we all did what we had to do, Nina. Just because you did nothing to secure your part in the story, does not mean that everyone else did you in. My God, the gall of you!" he clenched his words between his teeth in the most subdued tone he could muster.

Nina was visibly taken back by his reaction. He was not the submissive, careless guy she knew a few months ago and quite frankly she was caught off guard.

"How could you side with Matlock when you knew that you and I discovered the documents that led to the Antarctica expedition in the first place? How could you let him take credit for what belonged to you, Sam?" she moaned, her anger now slightly pacified.

"You forget that it is my job to do editorials when I am sent on assignment, Nina. For Christ's sake, not everything is about you. Stop taking everything so personally," he explained while stirring in the sugar and tossing the spoon carelessly into the sink. It clamored loudly on the steel among the background hum of the machines and the hiss of the waves. The loud clang startled her and made him seem more aggressive.

Sam waited for her to fight back but all he saw was defeat. Nina's face was weary and unhappy as she held back the tears. His attraction to her had not faded at all and he felt sorry for the beautiful academic who once kissed him, a sensation he still recalled when he felt lonely.

His voice softened, "Look, I know you got fucked over. Believe me, I know how much you put into that expedition and everything you did to save our asses. Matlock could have credited you as coauthor or at least have given you credit for bringing the idea to him." Sam put his tea down and rubbed her arms with his hands as she sank her head. Under his palms he could feel the slight shaking of her body as Nina wept silently. He pulled her against him.

"Come on, give me an intellectual 'fuck you' that you do so well," Sam play-pouted to cheer her up. It was the first time someone from the expedition openly admitted that she was fucked over by Matlock and it was strangely therapeutic to hear it.

He continued, "I know what you did. Everyone in your department knows too. Who cares? It's only a matter of time before Matlock is a has-been. You are only just getting started, right? Hey?" he sank his head to see her face. Nina nodded.

"Thank you," she said, in an almost inaudible voice.

"Sorry? Can't hear you," he teased and gave her a little shake.

"You're an asshole, Sam Cleave," she sniffed. He took his tea and hugged it with his cold fingers.

"That's my girl."

☼

Chapter 10

As soon as the sky started to turn light Purdue, Nina and Sam prepared for their first trip down to the submarine. The two guests had each been given their own quarters with amenities, which included heaters and extra blankets. Keys for their lockers were supplied for their own peace of mind and the walls contained built-in radios, which had satellite reception, should they wish to drown out the incessant buzzing of machinery and listen to a bit of music from civilization. The living quarters were remarkably luxurious considering their distant location from land, but then again, to Purdue luxury was a necessity. Nina adapted well under the circumstances and relinquished her claustrophobia to the quaint charm of the room she was given, which almost had her forgetting that she was stranded on a steel monstrosity in the middle of the deep sea.