EXOSKELETON II: Tympanum (38 page)

13

Wednesday, 10 June (10:32 a.m. EST)

Will found a secure room and sat on a chair behind a worktable. He thought about what he’d just done as he recovered from the extended separation. He wondered if he’d wake up unexpectedly one day in an insane asylum and realize he was dreaming it all.

It was time to find Cho, but he didn’t know where to start looking. He was sure Cho was looking for him as well. Will hadn’t killed the guards outside his door when he’d escaped, so he was certain they had reported it as soon as they’d regained consciousness. Now the question was where did they expect
him
to go? Were there lifeboats on a carrier?

Flickering lights distracted him from his thoughts. He watched as they dimmed and then went out completely. They must have switched to emergency power, and he wondered if he’d now have to destroy generators or batteries.

The sound of helicopter blades chopped just above the threshold of background noise and, for one hopeful moment, he thought it might be American. He separated and ascended through two levels to the flight deck. The sky was in twilight, and the only artificial illumination was that of the dim lighting of the jet runway. A helicopter with Chinese markings was about to lift off from a helipad.

Will passed through its rotating blades and though the armored shell of the cockpit. Two pilots flipped switches, preparing for takeoff.

He passed into the passenger cabin. Two plain-clothed Chinese men sat on one side, and Natalie Tate and Roy sat on the other.
Where in the hell did they think they were going?
Will thought to himself. Anger welled up inside him. He couldn’t let them go back to the states and continue their work. They had blood on their hands.

The helicopter ascended about 100 feet above the pad and drifted over the water. Will went into cockpit and grabbed the stick. The pilot shouted as he struggled with the controls. Will directed the chopper over the bridge of the carrier and then forced the stick forward. He rode it down until he awoke in his body and sensed the explosion from that vantage point. It was like thunder rumbling above him.

Killing was becoming easier.

14

Wednesday, 10 June (10:40 a.m. EST)

“What the hell was that?” Captain Grimes exclaimed. There was surprise and fear in his eyes.

“What?” Daniel asked.

Grimes pointed to a monitor displaying the live video feed from a camera on one of the destroyers. It was a green-tinted, night-vision video that was mostly saturated – overloaded with light.

Grimes instructed one of the crew to rewind the video and replay it. It was clear: a helicopter crashed into the bridge of the carrier, producing a brilliant explosion.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Grimes said softly, shaking his head.

“Perhaps we can offer assistance,” Jonathan suggested. “Time to get in close.”

“They’d never allow it,” Grimes said.

“Then how are we going to get Will off of that ship?” Denise asked.

“What if we sent a helicopter to the carrier?” Daniel asked.

“They’d shoot it down,” Grimes said.

“Not an appropriate action for a distressed ship in need of assistance,” Daniel replied.

“They have other ships,” Grimes replied. “They don’t need our assistance, and wouldn’t accept it if they did.”

Another explosion lit up the screen.

Grimes shook his head in disbelief. “We’ll try to radio them.” He walked out.

Daniel watched the screen as smaller, secondary explosions flared up from the carrier’s bridge. Could one man really cause that much chaos?

1

Wednesday, 10 June (10:46 a.m. EST – Weddell Sea)

Will pulled his cap down tight over his face, and went into the corridor. The thick stench of burning fuel burned his nostrils, and he used the smoke as an excuse to cover his face as sailors ran past him in both directions. He fought through strong fumes as he plodded in the direction of the burning bridge, hoping to cross Cho along the way. What he really needed was a satellite phone – something to communicate his location to Denise and Jonathan. He hoped they could help him establish communications with the American ships.

It had been a mistake to allow Cho to take him. He was now in an impossible position. He had no end game. He could sink their carrier, but he’d be on it when it went down. Even if he were able to sneak away on a life raft, his body wouldn’t survive the cold for long. Even with the ability to separate, it meant death.

He entered the lower bay area, avoiding people as they scurried about. He picked up his gait to look as if he was scurrying with them, and avoiding the fire that had spread to six or seven of the jets in the center of the bay. He wondered if the missiles under their wings could explode under the heat.

He crossed the bay, entered a wide hall, and climbed the first set of stairs he found. He searched until he found another flight and climbed them, and then another.

The bridge was ablaze. Burning electronics, plastic, and fuel produced a toxic concoction of smoke that billowed through the passageways, chasing sailors from the area. He trudged forward as far as he could and peered into one of the rooms, but soon wished he hadn’t: the charred remains of bodies were strewn about. Some were fused with the chairs in which they sat when the helicopter had crashed in on them.
What had he done?

A sharp object poked into his lower back, near his kidney. He turned. A Chinese man in plain clothes stood an arm’s length, covering his face with a cloth with one hand, and pointing a pistol at Will’s abdomen with the other. Cho was 20 feet back, giving the man instructions in Chinese.

The man tipped the gun, instructing Will to follow Cho, who was now talking on his phone. Will didn’t resist, and followed Cho a long distance away from the fires, ending up in the same ready-room to which he’d been taken when he arrived on the ship. Cho ordered him to sit.

“The others will be here shortly.” Cho said as he walked to the head of the table and stood. “Who helped you escape – your FBI cohorts? If so, you should know they are both dead.”

“I already know that,” Will replied.

“How?”

“How did they die, or how do I know?”

Cho looked confused. “How do you know?”

“I killed them,” Will replied.

“They were killed in a helicopter crash.”

Will nodded.

Cho shook his head in disbelief, as if trying to assess Will’s mental state. The door burst open and two military men entered, both officers.

“This is Captain Zhang and his political officer, Wu,” Cho explained and then turned to the captain and nodded.

Zhang, who spoke in nearly-accent-free English, said, “As you can see, Mr. Thompson, we are in a vulnerable position. We have been sabotaged and are in standoff with the American Navy.”

Will smiled.

“Perhaps you don’t understand the gravity of the situation,” Zhang said. “It pushes us towards the nuclear option.”

“Your planes are grounded,” Will said. “You plan to launch a missile?”

Zhang raised an eyebrow. “From a submarine,” he said.

“And what will that get you?” Will asked. “All-out nuclear war?”

Cho grinned. “I doubt it would come to that. Perhaps they would counter, but your country would not attack mainland China.”

“That’s a big gamble,” Will replied. “For what? To acquire some object at the bottom of the sea? You don’t even know what it is.”

“We’ll clear the surface ships of your carrier group in one blast,” Cho said with a smug expression. “Then we’ll take out your subs with six of our own – or at least chase them out of the area. We’ll then take you to the beacon.”

Will smiled and shook his head slowly. “Your plan has some flaws,” he said. “First, your submarines are no match for ours.”

Cho looked to Captain Zhang, whose face had flushed.

“That’s what you’ve been told,” Cho said. “Along with many other falsehoods propagated by your government.”

“And suppose everything works out and you get me on a sub near the beacon,” Will said. “You really think I’ll cooperate?”

“You’ll be under immense pressure,” Cho said.

“Really?” Will scoffed. “I don’t think you understand what I’ve been through. There’s nothing – ”

“We will kill your friends,” Cho said. “And your family.”

For an instant, Cho’s words put him in a state acute panic. He calmed himself. He understood that he couldn’t protect everyone, but he could stop Cho from killing anyone. It had become a life or death situation.

“What would happen if you were all dead?” Will asked.

“Is that a threat?” Cho laughed and looked to Captain Zhang. “What do you think, Captain, are we in danger?”

The captain replied with a tentative shrug.

Will was convinced that Cho had no understanding of separation abilities. “You are gravely mistaken on this point,” Will said and extended his arm. “Now give me your phone.”

Cho stared back blankly before responding. “You’re delusional.”

Will sat down. “Your phone and your gun, on the table, now,” he commanded.

Cho pulled out his gun and pointed it at Will’s chest. “You are the one in danger, Mr. Thompson.”

Will separated, grasped Cho’s gun-wielding arm and snapped it at the mid-forearm with a sound like that of a cracking lobster shell. Cho screamed as the gun fell from his twitching hand, which now hung at an awkward angle. The gun clunked heavily onto the table.

Will returned to his body, snatched the gun, and pointed it at Captain Zhang who had started for his own pistol in the holster on his hip. Cho whimpered as he cradled his broken arm against his chest. Will ordered Captain Zhang to put his gun on the table.

Zhang capitulated, and Will snatched the weapon and threw it on the floor behind him.

The third man, Wu, snapped his pistol from the holster, trained it on Will, and started to squeeze the trigger.

The reaction was automatic. Instantaneously, Will was outside of his body and everything seemed to freeze in time. The next thing he knew he was back in his body, and the man’s head exploded as if a hand grenade detonated inside, spraying blood, brain matter, and skull fragments all over the room.

Cho screamed.

Zhang looked confused and slowly wiped the wet debris from his face. His hand seemed to catch on something in the middle of his right cheek. He grasped it between his thumb and forefinger, and gingerly pulled it out and looked at it. An inch-long shard of skull had pierced his face.

Will was horrified by what had just happened – what he’d just done. He wiped blood and brain matter off of his own face and turned to Cho. “Your phone,” he screamed, holding out his hand.

Cho seemed to be in shock.

Will pointed the gun at his head. “Now!”

Cho, his torso leaning heavily on the table, rolled to one side to access his inner jacket pocket with his good hand. He extracted the phone and threw it onto the table.

Will picked it up and opened it. The screen lit up and prompted him for the password.

“Password,” Will said.

Cho hesitated.

“Password!” Will yelled, pointing the pistol at his face.

Cho listed a seven-character password. The question now was whether he could remember the phone numbers.

2

Wednesday, 10 June (11:09 a.m. EST)

Jonathan took a sip of coffee and looked at his watch: it was after 10 a.m., Chicago time. His bones ached from lack of sleep, and his eyes no longer maintained focus. These weren’t new sensations for him, but he worried about his ability to think clearly. A vibration disrupted his thoughts, and he lifted the offending phone from his coat pocket and looked at the screen. It was from an unknown number, so he terminated the call and put it back in his pocket.

“Who was it?” Denise asked as she took a bite of her lunch.

“Unknown number,” he said.

Daniel and Sylvia joined them and immediately dug into their food. It was clear that they were as hungry and tired as he was.

His phone buzzed again and he pulled it out. It was the same unknown number, and he cut it off and put it back in his pocket. “Persistent bastards. I’m on the no-call list,” he muttered and set the phone on the table next to his plate.

He swallowed a few bites of his breakfast and was chewing on another when the phone buzzed a third time. He looked to Denise, rolled his eyes, and set down his fork. He picked up the phone, looked at the screen, and almost choked on his food. It was a text message.

“My God,” he said, covering his mouth with a napkin. “It’s Will.”

Everyone seemed to stop chewing at the same time. Denise started to stand from her wheelchair, but winced and settled back into her seat. “Where is he?” she said, flustered.

The phone vibrated again, this time it was an incoming call.

“We’ll see,” Jonathan said and tapped the screen and put it up to his ear. “William?”

“Yes. Jonathan?”

“Where are you?”

“You’re not going to believe it but – ”

“You’re on a Chinese aircraft carrier off the coast of Antarctica,” Jonathan interrupted. “And it’s ablaze. What’s your status?”

Will’s silence conveyed confusion. After a few seconds, he replied, “I’m in control of the situation. I have the captain of the ship, Zhang, and a man named Cho here with me. Where are you?”

Jonathan looked to Daniel. “Get the captain – hurry!”

Daniel sprinted away.

“We’re on the USS
Stennis
– a carrier group a few miles from you,” Jonathan said.

“Good to hear you evaded Chinese intelligence,” Will said.

“Barely,” Jonathan said. “Denise took a bullet to the leg, but she’s okay.”

The silence on the other end made Jonathan regret relaying that information.

“Is she there?”

“I’ll put you on speaker,” Jonathan said, initiated speaker mode, and put the phone on the table. “There are others here, too.”

“Will?” Denise said.

“You okay?” Will asked, sounding agitated.

“I’m fine,” she said. “I’ll be walking tomorrow.”

“We need to get you off of that ship,” Jonathan broke in.

“They’re talking about hitting your carrier group with a nuke,” Will said. “They’re trying to get access to something the
Stennis
is protecting.”

“The beacon,” Jonathan said. “They want to take you to it in a submarine.”

“Yes,” Will replied. “Do you know why?”

“They want you to get inside the object – they think you have separation abilities,” Jonathan said. He wanted to ask him if that was true, but decided to ask a more indirect question. “You have anything to do with the Chinese carrier’s misfortunes?”

A pounding sound came through the phone, like someone knocking on a door.

“Gotta go,” Will said. “I’ll call back. Inform the
Stennis’
captain of the threat.”

The call ended, and he looked at the screen for a second before Daniel’s voice broke his trance.

“What did he say?” Daniel asked as he and Captain Grimes rushed to the table.

Jonathan informed them of the potential nuclear strike.

Grimes turned pale. “This is a game changer,” he said. “I need to talk to Naval Command.”

“What are you going to do?” Jonathan asked.

“We’ve been ordered to keep our position at all costs,” Grimes explained. “Evidently there are people at the highest levels who think the beacon is worth it. We may have to engage the Chinese carrier group.”

“It could escalate into war,” Daniel said.

Grimes nodded.

“We need to get Thompson off of that ship,” Jonathan said.

“I don’t know if that’s possible,” Grimes said.

“It’s
imperative
that we get him into our custody,” Sylvia reiterated.

“I’m not sure that’s true,” Grimes said. “Our first priority is to get him out of Chinese hands. That might mean … well, it’s not pretty.”

Jonathan didn’t like it, but he knew Grimes was right. Killing Will would satisfy the minimum requirement of not allowing the Chinese to use him. “There’s no way Thompson would cooperate with them.”

Grimes nodded. “I’ll get back to you after I talk with Naval Command,” he said and walked away at a hurried pace.

Jonathan thought that Will should be informed of their plans; maybe it would give him a chance to get out of the way. But he knew that was unlikely. There was nowhere to flee.