Origin - Season One (42 page)

Then he fainted.

Mike stepped forward and the man behind him pulled him back. “You people are insane! I hope whoever is taking you up the ass from the inside does a good job of it.”

Richelle was already walking inside. “Take them downstairs.”

The Pandora

The Baltic Sea

Monday 24 July 2006

2000 CEST

Captain Almila watched the screen on the bridge as the divers checked their equipment and walked to the ladder on the edge of the launch deck. Both were wearing military spec Aqualung rebreather systems.

“You’re clear,” the chief officer said into his radio. “Proceed to position one.”

Both divers gave the camera a thumbs-up. When they were in the water a crewman passed one of them an underwater camera. As soon as they were submerged, the chief switched the camera feed and they watched as the divers descended several yards and began swimming toward the bottom of the hull.

The divers reached the stern and turned toward the port side of the ship. The camera panned past one of the screws and moved forward until they reached a round steel hatch about two yards across.

“We’ve reached position one, sir. Ready when you are.”

The chief pushed the first of six green numbered buttons lined up on the console in front of him. The hatch didn’t open, but blew out, followed by a wash of air bubbles. The camera followed the heavy steel cover as if flipped over like a coin dropped into a fountain and quickly disappeared into the depths below.

“Cover is clear,” the diver said. “You’re good to go.”

The chief turned the switch below the first button. Both divers moved back as the end of a thick, hollow steel tube emerged from the open shaft. The tube kept coming until all ten yards of it was free. When it finally cleared the cylinder and stopped, the jolt reverberated all the way up to the bridge.

“Number one is clear, sir. It looks good.”

“Drop it,” Almila said.

The chief turned the switch another forty-five degrees. The tube suddenly began to drop, trailing a thick metal cable behind it. Less than thirty seconds later the cable stopped as the pylon hit the seabed.

“Okay. Proceed to number two,” the chief said. “Let’s get this done quickly. We’ve got weather on the way. I want you boys back on board as soon as possible.”

“Roger that, sir.”

It took just over an hour to drop all six. By the time the divers were back on board, the ship had begun to roll visibly. The chief saw the worry on the captain’s face and said, “We should be all right, sir. All the reports have this passing by 0200.”

“I hope you’re right,” Almila said. “I don’t even want to think about what might happen if it doesn’t.”

Aurora

Monday 24 July 2006

2230 EEST

Mitch was sitting in his living room toying with the touch screen remote that controlled the apartment’s wide range of gadgetry. The one that fascinated him the most was the windows. Although it was buried inside a block of solid granite like everything else at Aurora, the apartment had six windows, the largest of which was in the living room. The remote controlled the view using some kind of high definition LCD display which created a remarkably clear and realistic image of just about anything you wanted, from the New York skyline at night to a remote location in the Bavarian Alps. Mitch had just changed the picture again to a view of earth from outer space when Sarah arrived.

“Hey, you,” she said and sat down on one of the highchairs at the breakfast bar. “You like the windows?”

“I’ve never seen a resolution this high on a digital display,” Mitch said.

“They put them in last year,” Sarah said. “We own part of the company in Germany that makes them.”

“TSI?” Mitch asked.

“Yes. You’ve heard of it?”

“Not until yesterday,” Mitch said. “You guys seem to have your fingers in a lot of pies.”

Sarah laughed. “What a stupid expression.”

“Oh, I’m full of them,” Mitch said. “So what’s on the agenda for today?”

“Actually,” she said, “I thought you might take me to the movies.”

Mitch looked up from the remote in his hand with wide eyes, then looked away again as the color in his cheeks began to rise. “Ah… sure. We can go to the movies. If you like.”

“Great,” she said. “Peter and Julia are going to be there. Although I think Julia is only going to see Brandon Routh.”

“Who?”

“You don’t know him? He’s the new Superman.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course. Brandon Routh. Sure, I know him.”

“So it’s a date?” she asked.

At the sound of that word something in the pit of Mitch’s stomach leaped into his throat and all he managed was a grunt in the affirmative.

“You okay?” Sarah asked.

“Sure. I’m fine.”

“Then I’ll pick you up in an hour?”

Mitch nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

She sprang from the chair and walked to the door, then turned around and gave him a little wave before stepping out. Mitch walked straight to the bathroom where he filled the sink with cold water, splashed his face several times and stood looking at himself in the mirror.

“All right, Mitch, take it easy. You can do this. Beautiful women ask nerds out all the time. You just don’t hear about it very often because society is too shallow to admit it.”

He walked to the small computer terminal in the bedroom and sat down. Mitch had already spent several hours at the desk examining Aurora’s internal information and communications system and had been surprised to see how easy it was to hack. Although he supposed it made sense when you considered the threat of an internal security breach was probably not something anyone took very seriously around here.

He found the location on the server that stored personnel records and pulled up Sarah’s. Unlike the records of those who had been recruited, hers contained very little information beyond her age, blood type and the small entry that had been made by what Mitch assumed was the resident doctor at the time of her birth. She was only three months older than Mitch and had been born by C-section after her mother went into early labor, according to the notes. But what Mitch was interested in was the photo of her. He opened it on the screen and sat looking at it for a long time. It had clearly been taken several years earlier. In it she was smiling serenely; a young girl born and raised inside a cave, and as oblivious to what that meant as an ant might be to the hill it lives in. He spent several minutes restructuring various lines of code, then went back to the living room. Where the image of Earth had been, Sarah’s face now occupied every window in the room.

He sat looking at her for a long time, thinking about his own family. His mother had died several years ago from ovarian cancer and his father less than a year later in an accident that had been far too unlikely to be just bad luck. That left an older brother in Colorado that he hadn’t seen since their father’s funeral and a few scattered aunts and uncles, most of whose names he couldn’t even remember.

Mitch made a decision.

In many ways he guessed he had already made it. But what had drawn him to this place before now was simple logic. This was different. He thought he might actually be able to make a life here, strange as it would be. And not just because he had so little to go back to. It just felt right.
She
felt right.

Utska, Poland

Monday 24 July 2006

2300 CEST

“I’d tell you how bad this headache is,” Francis said, “but I don’t have the vocabulary.”

They were sitting in a small room furnished only with a trestle table and two chairs. The walls were bare concrete and the riveted steel door had neither a handle nor a keyhole in it. A single dim light bulb hung from the ceiling in a wire frame.

“Well, we’re still alive,” Mike said. “That’s something. I think she’s just spooked, myself. It’s not like the facts aren’t staring them in the face.”

“I’ll tell you something about the truth that might surprise you,” Francis said. “To people who don’t want to listen, it’s not worth two flying fucks in a snow storm.”

“Don’t forget,” Mike said, “I’ve spent over a decade in the service of the United States government. I know how it works.”

“Then you’ll know –”

The door suddenly swung open and Richelle entered. The man behind her stopped in the doorway and raised the barrel of his submachine gun. She made no effort to acknowledge them, just stepped to the table and put a picture down in front of them. “Do you know this man?”

They looked at the picture, shared a puzzled glance and shook their heads. She snapped the picture back up and put another down.

They both leaned forward to look at it.

“Never seen him before,” Francis said.

“Nor have I,” Mike said.

“What about this one?” she said.

“That’s Bruce Jessops,” Mike said. “But I think you already know that.”

She picked the photos back up. “You’re lying.”

“If you think we’re lying,” Francis said, “you’re not only a fucking lousy judge of character, you’re also blind.”

The man behind her took a step forward but Richelle shook her head and he moved back.

“And what is it exactly that I’m not seeing?” she asked.

“The bigger picture,” Francis said.

“Which is?”

“That someone in your organization is acting without your knowledge to cover up what I did.”

“And tell me, Mr. Moore, why would someone do that?”

“Well now, that’s the million dollar question, isn’t it? Aside from the little we’ve managed to learn from your hard drive, I have no idea what it is you people are doing or why. I suggest you start with whoever knew about the box at the Fed, then ask yourself why that person might not want anyone to know it went missing.”

“And I would,” Richelle said, “But for some reason, we don’t seem to be able to get hold of him.”

“You think
we
had something to do with that?” Mike said incredulously.

“I
know
you did. The only question is, are you going to tell me the truth, or will I have to beat it out of you? Unlike my sister, I know what’s on that drive, so you can spare me the bullshit.”

Francis shook his head slowly but didn’t look up.

“Who hired you to kill my sister?” Richelle asked. “I want a name. Was it Bruce Jessops? Give me a name and I’ll think about –”

Richelle didn’t get to finish the sentence. In the time it took the man behind her to look down the hall and back again, Francis was on his feet and swinging the chair. It flew across the room, narrowly missing Richelle’s head and caught her companion square in the middle of the face. The gun fell from his hands as he stumbled out the door. Richelle was fast, but this time Francis knew it. She was kneeling to pick up the rifle as he jumped over the table. He landed on both feet and pushed her aside with a shoulder barge. He picked up the weapon and had it pointed at her before she was back on her feet. Mike hadn’t moved. He looked like a dumbstruck member of the audience at a magic show.

“You’ll never get out of here alive,” Richelle said in a tone that betrayed her fury.

“Actually, if I wanted to, I could,” Francis said and held out the machine gun to her. “Go on, take it. Call it a peace offering.”

She reached out and grabbed the butt. Francis held on for another couple of seconds then let go. For a moment they only stood there looking at each other.

“I’m getting a little tired of the mind games,” Francis said, “so I’m going to say this one last time. We did not try to kill your sister. We came to Zurich to call her out and put an end to the bloodshed. That’s all.”

Something in Francis’s look made her drop her eyes. She looked down at the weapon in her hand then at the doorway where the man who had come to protect her now lay unconscious. For a moment Francis thought she was going to shoot them both anyway, then she set the weapon down on the table. “The box was leased by one of our staff in New York. We’re looking for him as we speak.”

“Go on,” Francis said.

“I’m afraid I can’t do any better than that.”

“I’m not saying I can help you,” Francis said. “But under the circumstances, I’d be willing to try. For my own sake, as much as yours.”

Richelle looked at Mike, who offered her an innocent grin.

“Tell me,” she said. “How the hell did
you
get caught up in this?”

Mike looked at Francis, who nodded.

“How much time have you got?” Mike asked.

“Actually, not very much,” Richelle said.

“Then I’ll make it quick,” Mike said.

He ran her through events, beginning with his own arrival at the Fed, and ending with their meeting in London and the decision to find Caroline. When he finished, the suspicion on Richelle’s face had been replaced by the clear signs of worry.

The Callisto

Somewhere on the Baltic Sea
Tuesday 25 July 2006

0100 CEST

Captain Williams reached into the cupboard in the corner of his cabin and pulled out a double-barreled shotgun.

“That’s it?” Titov said.

“Not quite.”

Williams reached back inside and handed Titov a .357 revolver. It was black with a white rubber grip. Titov took it and checked the cylinder. “Do you have any more ammunition?”

“There’s a box of shells for the shotgun in my safe, but that’s it for the revolver. This isn’t exactly a pirate ship.”

Titov stuffed the gun into the front of his pants and pulled his shirt over it.

“You sure that’s a good idea?” Williams said. “I don’t want you blowing your balls off.”

Titov laughed. “With this I’d be lucky to hit them even from here. That thing’s not much better.”

Williams held up the shotgun and pointed it at the door. “Oh, I don’t know.”

Titov put out his hand and Williams handed him the shotgun. He broke it and thumbed out both shells. The red plastic cases were faded and one of the brass heads had started to rust.