Michael Vey 3 ~ Battle of the Ampere (13 page)

Schema pounded the table with his fist. “Enough!”

“Indeed it is,” Hatch said, glaring at him. “You are no longer fit to run this organization.”

Schema jumped up from his chair. “How dare you!”

Hatch also jumped up, simultaneously slamming his fist down on the table. “How dare you! You have led this group from one disastrous decision to the next. Your shortsightedness is exceeded only by your stupidity.”

Schema was red in the face, his veins bulging from his temples. “Guards, take him to the brig.”

“I’m not done,” Hatch said, pointing at Schema. “It’s time the Elgen became who we were meant to become. It’s time for a change, but not the one you brought me here for.” Hatch’s eyes panned the room as his voice softened. “Yes, I know why you brought me here. You can’t fire me. I know too much. I hold each of your lives in my hands. You didn’t bring me here to fire me—you brought me here to silence me.”

No one spoke.

“Don’t worry. It’s not going to happen. If anyone will be silenced, it will be our illustrious chair.”

“Guards, take him out of here!” Schema shouted. “Now.”

The two guards walked up behind Hatch.

“Sir, put your hands behind your back,” one of them said.

“So it begins,” Hatch said. He looked around the room with a confident, dark smile. “Does anyone here, besides me, of course, object to the chairman’s scheme to put me down?” He looked back and forth between the group. “Answer carefully, your decision will hold consequences.”

“Even in complete failure you’re defiant,” Two said.

Hatch looked at her. “You’ve always shared the chairman’s animosity for me. It makes me wonder what else you share.”

The woman blanched. “How dare you!”

“How dare I? You have no idea how much I’m willing to dare.”

“You’re a fool,” Two said. “We are fortunate to be rid of you.”

“Don’t be too sure,” Hatch said. “The day is not over yet.”

Two chuckled. “Are you so obtuse or arrogant as to think that this board will change their minds?”

“The day will reveal who is truly obtuse,” Hatch said. “And no, I don’t believe that you will change your mind, but the less
obtuse
board members will. And my
arrogance
is not unfounded. Mark my word, friends: Those who don’t support me will live to regret their decision. Sooner than you imagine.”

Seven stood up. “Mr. Chairman, is this treatment of Dr. Hatch really necessary?”

“I agree,” Six added. “Dr. Hatch has provided much to our organization. There wouldn’t even be a Starxource initiative if it wasn’t for him.”

Schema looked around the room. “Anyone else disagree with my actions?” he asked softly. “Would you like to resurrect the discussion on Dr. Hatch’s reprimand?”

Eleven also raised her hand.

“Seven, Six, and Eleven,” Schema said, looking at the three in disdain. “You are relieved of your board membership and are under house arrest until we decide your fate. Captain, see that there is a guard stationed at each of their rooms.”

“Yes, sir,” the guard barked back.

Schema looked around at the rest of the table. “Is there anyone else who wishes to join them?”

No one spoke.

“Take these fools away,” Schema said.

*

As Hatch and his two guards boarded the elevators near the center of the boat, Hatch said to his escorts, “I’ll give you one more chance to prove your loyalty to me.” He paused for emphasis. “Not for my sake, but yours.”

“Shut up!” the first guard shouted. “You’re insane.”

Hatch smiled. “So be it.”

The elevator doors opened onto the bottom level of the ship, and Hatch was marched down a long corridor to the brig. The
Ampere
’s brig consisted of four cells, six foot by six foot, with padded walls and electric locks. Being on the ship’s bottom level, the brig was situated less than seventy feet from the engine room, so the cells and the outside corridor were always noisy, reverberating with the sound of the yacht’s massive diesel engines.

The second guard opened the first cell door and stood to its side. “Welcome to your new home. Get comfortable. You’re going to be here a long, long time.”

“I don’t think so,” Hatch said. He turned to the first guard, who was still clutching Hatch’s arm. “Are you going to take my cuffs off?”

The guard shoved him into the small cell. “Maybe tomorrow,” he said. “But probably not.”

“You don’t have tomorrow,” Hatch said.

“He’s a nutcase,” the second guard said. He slammed the door, which locked with a loud buzz and electric click. Both guards turned to go.

“One more thing . . . ,” Hatch said after them.

Both guards turned back.

“Let me tell you something that many have learned the hard way.” He leaned toward the bars and his voice fell to a low, guttural growl. “I never ever, ever forget.”

“Like an elephant,” the first guard said, laughing.

“Come on,” the second guard said. “Just leave the nutjob in his cage.”

Suddenly the corridor lights flickered. Then the lights at the end of the hall went dark.

“Gentlemen,” Hatch said. “I believe there’s an electrical storm coming.”

Both guards drew their weapons, the first a submachine gun, the second a Colt sidearm. Suddenly the second guard dropped his handgun and began screaming. His face was red and he was violently shaking his hands in the air. “My hands! They’re burning!”

Then the first guard also threw his gun to the floor and fell to his knees, pulling off his boots. “My feet!”

The two guns suddenly lifted into the air and flew to the end of the hall. Torstyn, Quentin, and Kylee emerged from the darkness, walking toward the brig. They casually walked past the two guards, who were on the ground writhing and screaming with pain. Kylee pulled the electric keys from the second guard’s pocket without even bending over and unlocked the door.

“What took you so long?” Hatch asked.

“G
et up,” Quentin shouted at the guards, “before Torstyn explodes your brains! Then strip to your underwear and get into the cell.”

The second guard stood. With blistered hands he quickly tore off his clothes. “Whatever you say, sir.”

The first guard pulled off his boots, then just lay there. He looked like he was in shock.

Quentin looked down at him. “You have a problem with my order?”

“No, sir. I can’t . . .” He grimaced. “My feet . . .”

Quentin looked at the man’s feet. They were bright crimson and severely blistered.

“Then crawl in,” Torstyn said. “Or should I just melt you here?”

“No, sir,” the guard said. He hurriedly pulled down his slacks, screaming as they brushed against his feet. Then he crawled into the cell, whimpering.

“Both of you on your knees with your hands on the back wall,” Hatch said. “And don’t waste my time.”

When both guards were against the wall, Hatch shut the cell door behind them.

“Just a few minutes ago you both were laughing,” Hatch said. “What happened? Did you lose your sense of humor?”

Neither guard answered.

“I asked you a question.”

“No, sir!” they shouted in unison.

Hatch turned to the second guard. “What did you call me? A nutjob?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” the second guard said.

Hatch turned from the cell. “Not as sorry as you will be. Come on,” he said to his youths. “Let’s go pay a visit to the board.”

The four of them walked down the hallway, back toward the elevator.

Hatch picked up the guard’s pistol, put it in his right pocket, then pulled the satellite phone from his left pocket.

He pushed a button and just seconds later a voice answered. “Engage,” Hatch said, then he stowed the phone back in his pocket. He turned to Quentin. “Where are Bryan and Tara?”

“They’re covering the main floor,” Quentin said. “I’ll let them know we’re on our way.”

“No, have them meet us here,” Hatch said.

“Yes, sir,” Quentin said. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. “Tara, it’s Q. Come down to the first floor. Use the forward elevator.” He returned his phone to his pocket and turned back to Hatch. “They’ll be right here.”

Less than a minute later the elevator stopped on the floor. Tara and Bryan stepped out.

“What’s going on up there?” Hatch asked.

“Everything’s calm. I think the board members are still meeting.”

“Does anyone know you’re on board?”

“Two window washers spotted us,” Tara said.

“And?” Hatch asked.

“They jumped overboard.” Bryan laughed. “Tara made them think the boat was filled with cobras.” He turned to Quentin. “One of them did the most awesome belly flop. It was epic.”

Hatch didn’t look amused. “Did anyone see them go over?”

“We don’t think so,” Tara said. “We didn’t see anyone else. And we could barely hear them screaming.”

“All right, listen up. The three board members loyal to me are under house arrest on the second floor. We’re going to free them, then pay the board a visit. There are currently fourteen guards on board. Four of them—Woodbury, Spafford, Harlan, and Mull—are loyal to me and are awaiting my orders. We’ve locked two in the brig, and the other eight will need to be neutralized. A helicopter with twenty of our best soldiers is on its way from the
Faraday
. It will touch down in exactly twenty-eight minutes. Quentin, I need you and Tara to make sure they encounter no resistance on landing, understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Quentin said.

Tara nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Kylee, Bryan, and Torstyn are with me. We’ll take out the three guards on the suite level, then meet up with our four guards on deck.” He turned to Tara. “Did you see any guards on the bridge?”

“Two.”

Hatch looked Tara in the eyes. “Dispose of them.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Quentin, take out all communications. I don’t want an SOS going out to any other ships in the fleet. Not all of them are loyal to me yet.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll take out the bridge before we get there.”

“Don’t take out any of the controls or radar. We still need to float this tub.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Also, take out the video console. I don’t want them seeing us on the second floor. I’ll give you five minutes. Call me after it’s down.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Go.”

Tara and Quentin stepped into the elevator. It was less than five minutes later that Hatch’s phone rang.

“We have the bridge, sir. The consoles are down.”

“Good. Stay there until I arrive.” He turned back to Torstyn and Bryan. “Let’s end this.”

I
nside the boardroom, Schema looked somberly over the group.

“Then it’s unanimous,” he said. “Once we reach open sea, Dr. Hatch will be exterminated.” He burst out in a fit of coughing, then breathed out slowly. “It will be a relief to be free of him.”

Two Elgen guards, Spafford and Mull, stood watch outside the boardroom door with their guns drawn.

There was a loud beep on Spafford’s communicator. He turned to Mull. “It’s time.”

Mull nodded. He glanced once more down the hallway and then, together, they opened the boardroom doors and walked in, closing the doors behind them.

“Gentlemen,” Schema said. “You’ll have to leave. This meeting is still closed.”

The guards leveled their guns at the board members. “You are all
under arrest. Put your hands on top of your heads. Now!”

“What are you doing?” Schema asked.

Two secretly pushed a button under the table.

“I said, now!” Spafford repeated.

“I suggest
you
drop your weapons,” Two said to the guards. “I’ve alerted the guards.”

“Shut up!” Mull shouted. “And get on your knees and prepare to meet the admiral of the Elgen fleet.”

“The admiral?” Two said.

“Admiral Hatch,” Spafford said.

“Have you gone raving mad?” Schema said.

Then the door opened and Hatch walked into the room. He was flanked by Quentin and Torstyn and followed by the three disposed board members.

“Guards, subdue him!” Schema shouted, pointing at Hatch.

Hatch just shook his head. “Clueless as always,” he said. “They don’t take orders from you.” He turned to Spafford and Mull. “Well done, men.”