The Atlantis Gene: A Thriller (16 page)

David assumed the bullet to the chest had killed the bio-monitor in the body armor. It had sure done a number on him. The tracker in the helmet would still be active, but it was at the bottom of the river.

God bless these Jakartan fisherman. They had saved him, but where were they taking him? Maybe Immari had announced a reward for him — these two had simply caught a lottery ticket. Or maybe David was on the dinner menu tonight. He could barely breathe, would probably put up about as much fight as a Thanksgiving turkey. He’d cross that bridge when he came to it. He had to rest. He watched the river for a minute, then closed his eyes.

David felt the soft comfort of a bed beneath him. A middle-aged Jakartan woman held a wet rag at his forehead. “Can you hear me?” When she saw his eyes open, she turned away and began yelling in another language.

David grabbed her arm. She looked frightened. “I’m not going to hurt you. Where am I?” he said. He realized that he felt much better. He could breathe again, but the pain was still there in his chest. He sat up and released her arm.

The woman told him their address, but David didn’t know it. Before he could ask another question, she backed out of the room, watching him cautiously, her head tilted slightly.

He stood and walked around the home. It was several rooms with paper thin walls covered with homemade art, mostly depicting fisherman. He opened a rickety screen door and walked out onto a terrace. The home was on the third or fourth level of a “building” with many similar homes — all with white plaster walls, dirty screen doors, and terraces stacked like stair steps climbing up the banks of the river below. He looked out into the distance. As far as the eye could see, he saw stacks and stacks of these homes, like pasteboard boxes stacked on top of each other. Clothes hung on lines outside each one, and here and there, women were beating rugs, sending dust rising into the setting sun like demons fleeing the earth.

David glanced down toward the river. Fishing boats were coming and going. A few had small motors, but most were powered by paddlers. His eyes searched the buildings above. Would they be here already, looking for him? Then he saw them. Two men, Immari Security, exiting on the second floor below him. David backed into the shadow of the balcony and watched the men go into the next home. How long did he have? Five, maybe ten minutes?

He walked back into the home and found the family huddled together in what passed for a living room, though it had two small beds in it as well. The two parents corralled a boy and a girl behind them, as if David’s look could harm them.

At 6’3”, David was almost two heads taller than the man and woman, and his muscular frame almost filled the narrow doorway, blocking the last rays of the setting sun. He must look like a monster to them, or an alien, a completely different species.

David focused on the woman. “I’m not going to hurt you. Do you speak English?”

“Yes. A little. I sell fish in the market.”

“Good. I need help. It is very important. A woman and two children are in danger. Please ask your husband if he will help me.”

CHAPTER 30

Immari Jakarta Headquarters
Jakarta, Indonesia

Martin Grey walked into the room cautiously, eyeing Dorian Sloane as if he were an apparition. The Director of Immari Security stood on the far side of Martin’s corner office on the 66th floor of the Immari Jakarta Headquarters. Sloane looked out over the Java Sea, watching the boats come and go. Martin thought the younger man hadn’t seen him come in, so he was startled when he spoke. “Surprised to see me, Martin?”

Martin realized Sloane had watched him enter in the glass’s reflection. He saw Sloane’s eyes there now. They were cold, calculating, intense… Like a predator watching his prey, waiting to strike. The incomplete reflection hid the rest of his face. His hands were clasped behind his back. His long black trench coat looked so out of place here in Jakarta, where heat and humidity forced even bankers into less formal attire. Only body guards, or anyone with something to hide covered up so much.

Martin made an effort to look casual. He strode to his oak desk in the middle of the giant office. “Yes, actually. I’m afraid you’ve caught me at a bad time—”

“Don’t. I know it all, Martin.” Sloane turned around slowly and spoke deliberately, never taking his eyes off Martin as he walked toward the older man behind the desk. “I know about your little ice fishing expedition in Antarctica. Your meddling in Tibet. The kids. The kidnapping.”

Martin shifted his feet, angling to get behind the desk, to put something between the two of them, but Sloane altered his vector, approaching to the side. Martin stood his ground. He wouldn’t back away, even if the brutal man cut his throat right there in his office.

Martin returned Sloane’s stare. The younger man’s face was lean, muscular, but rough — not rugged — years of hard living had taken its toll. It was a face that knew pain.

Sloane stopped his prowling march three feet from Martin. He smiled slightly, like he knew something Martin didn’t, as if some trap had been sprung, and he was simply waiting. “I would have found out sooner, but I’ve been quite busy with this Clocktower situation. But I think you already know about that.”

“I’ve certainly seen the reports. Unfortunate and untimely, to be sure. And as you mentioned, I’ve had my hands full as well.” Martin’s hands started to shake slightly. He stuffed them in his pockets. “I had planned to reveal these recent developments — Antarctica, China—”

“Be careful, Martin. Your next lie could be your last.”

Martin swallowed and looked at the floor, thinking.

“I just have one question, Old Man. Why? I’ve collected all these threads you’ve spun, but I still don’t see your end game.”

“I haven’t betrayed my oath. My goal is our goal: to prevent a war we both know we can’t win.”

“Then we agree. The time has come. Toba Protocol is in effect.”

“No. Dorian, there is another way. It’s true, I’ve kept these… developments to myself, but for good reason — it was premature, I didn’t know if they would work.”

“And they haven’t. I read the reports from China, all the adults died. We’re out of time.”

“True, the test failed, but because we used the wrong therapy. Kate used something else; we didn’t know it at the time, but she will tell me. We could walk into the tombs by this time tomorrow — we could finally learn the truth.”

It was a long shot, and Martin was almost surprised when Sloane broke his unblinking glare. His eyes looked away, then down. A moment passed and finally, he turned around, pacing back toward the windows, taking up his original position when Martin had entered the room. “We already know the truth. And as for Kate and the new therapy… You took her children. She won’t talk.”

“She will to me.”

“I believe I know her better than you.”

Martin felt his blood rising.

“Have you opened the sub yet?” Sloane’s voice was quiet.

Martin was surprised by the question. Was Sloane testing him? Or did he think…

“No,” Martin said. “We’re following a more extensive quarantine protocol, just to be on the safe side. I’m told the site is almost secure.”

“I want to be there when they open it.”

“It’s been sealed for over 70 years, nothing could have—”

“I want to be there.”

“Of course. I’ll inform the site.” Martin reached for the phone. He couldn’t believe this break. The hope felt like a breath of fresh air after being under water for three minutes too long. He dialed quickly.

“You can tell them when we get there.”

“I’d like nothing more—”

Sloane turned away from the windows. The bloodthirsty stare had returned. His eyes burned holes in Martin. “I’m not asking. We will open that sub together. I’m not letting you out of my sight, not until this is over.”

Martin put the phone down. “Very well, but I must speak with Kate first.” Martin inhaled, straightening his back. “And now, I’m not asking. You need me, we both know it.”

Sloane looked at Martin through the window’s reflection, and Martin thought he saw a small smile cross his lips. “I’ll give you ten minutes with her, and
when
you fail, we’ll leave for Antarctica, and I’ll leave her to people who will make her talk.”

CHAPTER 31

River Village Slums
Jakarta, Indonesia

David watched the Immari Security officers pivot and then run into the five-room plaster home on the corner of the row. He had picked this home specifically because of its layout.

The men swept the rooms, moving in swift, mechanical motions, entering each room with their handguns held in front of them, jerking left, then right.

David listened from his hiding place as the men reported. “Clear. Clear. Clear. Clear. Clear.” He heard their pace slow as they walked out of the now “safe” residence.

When the second man passed him, David silently slid behind him, covered his mouth with a damp cloth, and waited for the chloroform to fill his mouth and nostrils. The man thrashed about, trying desperately to grab David as he lost control of his limbs with each passing second. David held tight at his mouth. No sound escaped. The man slumped to the ground, and David was about to turn his attention to the other man when he heard the radio in the next room crackle to life.

“Immari Recon Team Five, be advised, Clocktower reports a field locker in your area has been accessed. Target believed to be in close proximity and could be in possession of weapons and explosives from the locker. Proceed with caution. We’re sending backup units.”

“Cole? Did you hear that?”

David squatted over the man he had just incapacitated, apparently Cole.

“Cole?” the other man called from the next room. David could hear the dirt grinding below the soldier’s boots. He was walking slowly now, like a man marching through a minefield, where any step could be his last.

As David rose to his feet, the man burst through the doorway, his gun pointed at David’s chest. David lunged for him. They collapsed to the ground and fought for the gun. David slammed the man’s hands into the dirty floor, and the gun skidded to the wall.

The man repelled David off of him and began crawling for the gun, but David was on him again before he got far, gripping the man’s neck with the crook of his elbow in a tight strangle hold. He placed the heel of his hand on the man’s upper back to get more leverage. He could feel his prey’s airways close. Not much longer.

The man flopped back and forth and clawed at the arm around his neck. He reached down, trying to grasp… what? His pocket? Then the man had it — a knife from his boot. He stabbed back at David, connecting with his side. David heard his clothes rip and saw the blood on the knife, which was coming at him again. He slid to the side, barely missing the second jab. He moved his hand from the man’s back up to his head and using the cross-grip with his arm around the man’s neck, he ripped hard. The loud snap rang out and the man slumped to the floor.

David rolled off the dead mercenary and stared at the ceiling, watching two flies chase each other.

CHAPTER 32

Immari Jakarta Headquarters
Jakarta, Indonesia

Martin’s men had taken Kate deep underground, then led her down a long corridor that opened onto what looked like a large aquarium. The glass window was at least fifteen feet tall and maybe sixty wide.

Kate didn’t understand what she saw. The scene beyond the glass was clearly the bottom of The Bay of Jakarta, but it was the creatures moving about that puzzled her. At first she thought they were some sort of illuminated sea creatures, like jelly fish, drifting down to the bottom then floating back to the surface. But the lights were wrong. She walked closer to the glass. Yes — they were robots. Almost like robotic crabs, with lights that swiveled like eyes and four arms, each with three metallic fingers. They burrowed into the ground, then emerged with items in their mechanical hands. She strained to see, what were the items?

“Our excavation methods have come a long way.”

Kate turned to see Martin. The look on his face gave her pause, worried her. He looked tired, dejected, resigned. “Martin, please tell me what’s going on. Where are the children that were taken from my lab?”

“In a safe place, for now. We don’t have much time, Kate. I need to ask you some questions. It’s very important that you tell me what you treated those children with. We know it wasn’t ARC-247.”

How could he know that? And why did he care what she had treated them with? Kate tried to think. Something was wrong here. What would happen if she told him? Was the soldier, David, right? “I will tell you, but I want the children back first,” she said.

Martin walked over, joining her beside the glass wall. “I’m afraid that’s not possible, but you have my word: I will protect them. You have to trust me, Kate. Many lives are at stake.”

“Tell me what the hell’s going on, and I’ll think about trusting you.”

Martin turned, walking away from her, seeming to ponder. “What if I told you there was a weapon, somewhere in this world, that was more powerful than anything you can imagine? A weapon capable of wiping out the entire human race. And that what you treated those children with is our only chance at survival, our only means to resist this weapon?”