The Orion Deception (12 page)

"They have another way to use wormholes?"

"Not wormholes, Marshal. Alien technology. Faster than light engines that work beyond what our own engineers are capable of! Even the brilliant Dr. Connor could not conceive their potential."

That revelation stunned the room. For a moment, Heck wanted to laugh at the absurdity. Mankind had been working and living in space for almost two centuries and colonized a number of planets and moons, and yet no trace of sentient alien life had ever been discovered.

"Why should I believe that absurd statement?"

"I realize how far-fetched that sounds, Marshal, but it 
is 
true." Lainne's eyes were glued to those of the dark man, while Gelad's face was a mask of stone. Heck somehow knew that the Israeli was already aware of this.

"Ok. Let's say your aliens are real. What's the catch? Why are they giving you their technology?"

"I have learned a great deal about these aliens and I believe them to be demons, agents of Satan. I stand apart from the Crescent Moon on this point. It goes against all that Allah teaches to believe these beings are kind and gentle benefactors."

"Go on."

"I know all about you, Marshal." Heck nodded but said nothing. "I know what happened to you. I know about your woman's disappearance and I know who attacked you as you were preparing to enter the wormhole. You may thank Orion's Sword for that, Marshal."

"Orion's Sword," he repeated. "Aren't you one of them?"

"I work for them, but I could never be one of them. They have powerful weapons and spacecraft. It is remarkable you escaped from them."

"Are they aliens?"

"They would have us believe their lies that they are our beneficent saviors. But I 
know 
better. And now that we have what they want, they have become more bold. They claim to come from the Orion constellation. And if they do, then that is where Hell may be found."

"What's so bad about them? Aren't they giving you FTL technology?" asked Lainne.

"Nothing is free," answered the man.

"That's what I'm afraid of," said Heck. "What is their price?"

"The m-" began the assassin. But all that escaped his lips were groans of pain. The man was suddenly wracked with spasms and began jerking about as though he were having a seizure.

"What's happening?" demanded Lainne in a panic. "Help him!"

But there was no help for him. Foam accumulated on his lips and blood tricked from his ears and nose as he grunted and thrashed. Lainne looked away and covered her mouth as the other two men watched the assassin die.

"Well, at least we don't have to kill him," said Heck. Gelad nodded. "We should be going now."

"What was that all about? What happened to him?"

"There must be a device somewhere in his body that triggered a seizure, killing him."

"How did they know he was talking? Can they hear us somehow?"

"No. They could not hear us. It is possible that the device that killed him recorded this conversation, but they could not collect that without physically removing the device. When we entered this bunker, whatever tracking device was inside him may have gone offline and was programed to terminate him in a predefined period of time."

"But wouldn't he know that?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. In any case, we must assume that others will know of our general location very soon. We should be on our way as soon as we can, unless of course we would like to meet more of these assassins working for Orion's Sword."

Lainne was beginning to feel overwhelmed with all the death and violence. It was really remarkable to her how these men could witness the death of a human being and be so unmoved. Even though that man had tried to kill them, Lainne still pitied him and the corner he had chosen to back himself into.

The three waited in the dank chamber with the corpse of the deceased assassin for nearly an hour, all the while checking for signs that the coast was clear for them to leave. Lainne was on pins and needles, hoping and praying that they could leave the rat-hole they were in before any other assassins showed up. For the moment, it seemed that the only presence beyond their hideout was that of the local police responders and the Commonwealth Guard Police, which was bad enough.

No one talked during that time, each alone with his thoughts and plans for the coming hours. It seemed to Lainne that their lives must be measured in hours now, instead of years. It was very hard for her to think in terms of time beyond the present. She thought it must somehow be a survival instinct, a way to ensure that one's complete awareness was focused on enduring the ordeal and detecting and avoiding danger. Even after the sounds of the police activity had died down and the cruisers had apparently left, the three waited. It seemed that she was aware of every croaking bull frog, every splash of a mullet jumping in the river, and every cricket rubbing its legs together in song.

Finally, the interminable wait ended and Heck decided it was time for him to conduct a reconnaissance of the area. Very quietly, and very slowly, he opened the door to the hidden chamber far enough for him to slip out. Gelad closed the door behind him, leaving Heck in the darkness on the ledge. He stood very still for nearly five minutes, hoping that if anyone had noticed the movement of the door they would assume that was just a shadow in the greater darkness of the tunnel and move on.

When he was satisfied that he had avoided the attention of any potential sentries and no alarm had been sounded that he could hear, Heck slipped silently into the murky water. Heck was no stranger to Florida and well knew the threat of alligators lurking in the darkness. But he also knew that alligators would not likely attack something they thought to be a threat to themselves, and there were very few things in that category. So, Heck swam with a knife he had taken from the assassin in each hand. If an alligator grabbed him, he hoped he would be able to react quickly enough to stab it in the eye or snout or its soft underbelly in hopes of convincing it that he was far too dangerous to tangle with. And Heck knew that if he could pull that off he would be lucky indeed.

Heck swam quietly through the dark water then climbed safely out onto the concrete platform below the bridge on the other side. Again, there had been no alarm and no indication he had been spotted. Very slowly he moved to the upriver side of the platform, the south side where the
Swampwater Inn
was located. Then, he peeked his head just far enough around the corner to look down the river's bank. From his vantage point, there was enough of a bend in the river that he could actually see the parking lot beside the
Swampwater Inn
. Luckily, much of the police presence had disappeared but there were still a few officers present and a pair of police cruisers, engines idling, were stationary in the parking lot.

Heck squinted in the dim light to identify if the cruisers were local or Commonwealth. After a moment he could make out the tell-tale green and gray hulls and five-point star emblems of county sheriff cruisers. Doubtless one each from Lake and Volusia Counties, as the river was the dividing line between the two.

He looked upriver to the south and then back downriver to the north, continually scanning the police activity. A small boat was in the water south of the restaurant, a spotlight flashed this way and that as a man with a long hook was pulling things from the river. Heck smiled grimly, their ploy had worked. Looking back downriver to the north he saw that there was no activity, just a few lights from homes situated along the water's edge, but that gave him an idea.

Heck slipped quietly into the water and swam across the river to the side where the others were hiding and continued beyond, moving downriver with the slow current. He came to a small wooden dock and climbed up, very slowly, thankful that the moon had moved completely behind the clouds.

He was very pleased that some things in small-town America did not change, and patted the old metal signpost that greeted him.

Florida Fish and Wildlife Commission

St. John's River District,

State Road 40 office

A set of old wooden stairs led up to the small hut that overlooked the dark waters of the river. The irony of the old game warden's office so close to the ancient booze-running hideout made him smirk. It was clear to him now that his uncle had to have had the game wardens on the take, else they would not have been able to operate right under their noses.

The dim blue light of a holographic computer interface that had been left on could be seen flickering in the office window. But Heck wasn't interested in what was in the office, breaking in would have been too risky anyway. Instead, he was interested in the sleek, gray, flats boat with the 150 lb. thrust trolling motor on the front and twin 225 hp outboard engines on the back. And the key was in it.

It was his lucky day.

The darkness on the Florida river was complete now that the moon was gone and clouds still blocked out the stars. Heck stealthily returned to the hideout and told the others what he had found. Very slowly, and very quietly, the men carried the corpse out of the hideout and to the downriver side of the bridge where the gray flats boat was lying against the shoreline. Once Lainne was aboard, Heck and Gelad pulled the corpse onto the back of the boat and Heck asked Gelad to remain there with the dead man.

Within seconds Heck stood at the bow and the boat slid silently forward, downriver, and away from the crime scene behind them. Lainne was mystified at the silence of the boat until she realized that the motor on the front of the boat was electric and made only the slightest humming noise. The occasional slap of a wave against the hull made more noise than the electric trolling motor, but no one seemed to notice.

Once they were in the middle of the river, Heck waved to Gelad. The Israeli tied the dead man's hands to an anchor and eased him into the water before finally letting go. Lainne heard the gurgling as air pockets trapped within the dead man's clothes surfaced, and then nothing. Gelad joined the others in the bow, looking backward until the lights of the Highway 40 bridge were no longer in sight.

"A police boat, Heck?" asked Lainne, nervously.

Heck answered with a grunt and a nod and said nothing more. He was focused on piloting the boat through inky waters and getting distance between them and the police; he could not do it fast enough under the slow cruising speed that the trolling motor was capable of doing.

After nearly twenty minutes of gliding quietly through the dark waters, more lights appeared ahead.

"What’s that?" Lainne asked quietly, hoping it wasn't more police activity.

"Lake George, and those lights are navigational beacons," he answered as he turned off the electric motor and pulled it up onto the deck of the boat where it latched into place. "Gelad, take Lainne back to that bench seat. We're in for a bumpy ride."

Gelad and Lainne moved to the bench seat behind the console, where the steering wheel was. Heck turned the key in the ignition and a throaty rumble told him the modernized cell powered outboards were engaged. He eased the throttle forward and the boat lurched, the bow coming up out of the water. The noise from the engines was so loud Lainne thought for sure that the entire Commonwealth Guard Police force would be on them in seconds.

To everyone's relief, there was no sign they had been detected. No sign that anyone thought they were not just another boater out for a late night race across the lake. As they passed the first set of beacons Heck slid the throttle farther forward and the boat roared to life.

The big flats boat thundered across the dark waters of the Lake George. The only part of the boat that was in the water was the very back of the hull and the lower units of the engines. Lainne thought that if the boat had wings it would be flying. A large rooster tail of water soared up in the air above the engines and cascaded down in the wake behind the boat. To the three who raced across the waters of the vast lake, it seemed eerily devoid of other boaters.

"Can't they track us in this boat?" Lainne shouted over the roaring wind. Heck had disabled the head's up display and the boat's lighting systems, banking that there would be little enough traffic this night to worry about a collision.

"I disabled everything but the engine and steering systems," he called back, thinking that his face must be flapping in the rushing air like a dog with his head out the window of a ground car. "There is nothing that can be tracked unless you or Gelad have a tracking beacon!"

Lainne just nodded, it was too hard to talk at that speed. Heck was glad she didn't ask any more questions, he just wanted to concentrate on piloting the boat between the navigational beacons on the water. Lake George had some very treacherous, shallow, areas. If he wasn't completely on his game it could be disastrous for them all.

Finally, they came to the north end of Lake George and reentered the St. John's River. Heck slowed the boat down as they left the big lake behind and continued downriver again, heading north toward Jacksonville.

"Where are we going, Heck?" asked Gelad now that he could be heard above the roaring wind.