Breakthrough (25 page)

Finally
, the door slowly started to open.  Inside it was pitch black which made it hard to discern who or what was being used to open the door.  When it reached a fully open position, Clay could see something move toward the bottom hinge, something to prop it open.  Just as a muzzle began to poke out, Clay heard something.  It was the sound of an engine.

Suddenly the dark shape of a helicopter rose up and over the far corner of the building and swept over the roof.  As it passed over the stairwell, a huge deluge of liquid was released from the skids smashing through the opening and knocking the men inside backwards, slipping and tumbling back down the stairs. 

The small helicopter banked hard to the right as sparks flew off from bullets fired from the ground.  Caesare quickly dipped back down and circled, slowing at the far edge for safety.

“Run!” Clay yelled, pulling Palin to his feet and pushing him forward.  They ran low and as quickly as they could to the waiting chopper floating just a few feet
above the roof line.  As they reached the edge, Clay pushed Palin into the small oval opening of the passenger’s seat.  There was no room for a third person.  Bullets ricocheted again off the side of the helicopter as marines covered in a slippery liquid came tumbling out of the stairwell.   Clay looked at Caesare sitting in the pilot’s seat.  He gave a quick nod and then motioned over his shoulder.  Caesare nodded back.

Caesare
opened the engine wide and titled away from the building.  In one motion, Clay turned and emptied the rest of his magazine just over the heads of the marines.  He continued his turn stepping onto the edge of the roof, dropping his rifle, and dove head first off the side of the building.

Borger switched the view on his monitor to one of the security cameras at the air strip.  He started shutting down the sirens as quickly as he could, but men were already running out of the buildings, headed for the other side of the base in armored vehicles.  Several ran out onto the nearby tarmac where four UH-60 Black Hawk helicopters sat waiting.  The pilots climbed in, quickly powering up the systems and starting the engines.  The cockpits lit up as all the instruments came to life, and the rotors slowly began turning overhead.  The pilots strapped themselves in and turned their computerized helmets on, waiting for the weapons system to sync with their digitized face plates.

“Uh oh.”  Borger said.  He cut all of the lighting to the runway and tarmac, but
it was too late, the cockpit navigation systems on the helicopters were now fully functional.  They could fly with no outside lights or visibility at all.  The rotors increased in speed as they neared the point of lift.

Suddenly a bright blue wave of light passed over the buildings and across the tarmac, past the choppers and disappeared.  The Black Hawk’s lights and cockpit instruments went out, and the engines died leaving only the sound of the rotors spinning and winding back down.  The pilots inside looked at each other confused and tried to power back up.  The aircraft
s were all dead.

Borger’s eyes widened.  “What the hell was that?”

35

Alison Shaw opened her apartment door and walked through trying not to spill the large stack of mail in her hands before the door tried to close on her.  She stepped out of the way just in time for it to sweep past and close loudly behind her.  She tossed the mail onto her kitchen counter and put the keys down next to it.  She then dropped her large shoulder bag onto the carpet.  She looked at the microwave clock and sighed. 

She retrieved a wine glass from the cabinet and a bottle of chardonnay from the fridge,  poured herself a glass, and with a sigh, plopped down onto the couch.  How, she thought, did she ever think things would slow down after IMIS was left to do its thing?  She was busier now than she was before, of course then it was mostly prep work, now it was execution.  The project was more successful than she had dared dream.  The system worked, real communication was established, and they were learning more than they ever expected.  Over the last several days, things had really become exciting.  Finding that Dirk and Sally could not just identify a number but actually count, was a huge discovery.  It opened the door for much deeper cognitive ability and abstract thinking.   What she did not expect was where that would lead.  Dirk and Sally
had started asking questions.

No longer were they asking how she was or what she was eating, now they were trying to form sentences and concepts that seemed even beyond the limits of IMIS.  But even with their existing vocabulary, the dolphins were asking Alison questions that she struggled to answer.  It started with why humans wore clothes which was hard enough.  But it was when they asked “why people dirty ocean?” that she really had trouble.  They wanted to know why humans were polluting the oceans, or the
world for that matter.  This not only showed a deeper awareness of the world around them but the ability to understand the relationship between humans and their changing world.  The dolphins also seemed curious why the deeper their question, the longer it took for the humans to answer them.  Many earlier studies of the mammals suggested that they had cognitive abilities similar to very small children, which was clearly an enormous underestimation.  This suggested to Alison that our human ability to even
test
the intelligence of other animals was more limited than we knew.

She took another sip of wine and leaned back, putting a foot up on the edge of her coffee table.  She stared at a Wyland portrait hanging on the wall.  What an incredible world it was, a wonderful world on so many levels.  And a world that she wanted to share with someone. 

She suddenly frowned at that thought.  She thought about her last two relationships, both failed, and the last one bordering on abusive.  She realized now that it was after that relationship that she had really thrown herself into work.  It was her way to escape from a terrible time in her life.  And she had come to love Dirk and Sally so much it gave her an excuse to avoid the possibility of ending up in another bad relationship.  She had been hiding for a long time and now it had hardened her into someone she didn’t like.  Alison wiped a tear from her eye before it could fall.  She didn’t want to hide anymore.

Unexpectedly, Alison found herself thinking of John Clay.  He was intelligent and interesting, and even had a sense of humor hiding in there somewhere.  She wondered if she was going to see him again.  She hoped she would.  Who was she kidding?  She probably wasn’t even his type.  He was worldly, experienced, and handsome.

Alison wondered where he was.  She wondered what he was doing.  Probably something fun, somewhere exciting, and with multiple women on his arm.

John Clay clung to the bottom of the helicopter, desperately trying to hang on as Caesare maneuvered through the tree lines as close to the ground as possible to avoid radar.  Jumping off the roof, Clay collided with the metal skids hard and felt his shoulder dislocate badly.  He felt a searing pain in his left arm as he held on with everything he had.  The constant slapping into tree tops prevented him from getting a better hold or swinging his leg up with Caesare’s zigging and zagging in almost complete darkness.

Clay shifted to give his left arm a break, hanging more from the right side.  He tried again to get his leg over the giant bar used for crop dusting but it was covered with liquid insecticide and too slippery to get any kind of grip on.  A large tree limb suddenly hit him in the chest and nearly knocked him off the rail.  His right arm started to shake.  He was not sure how much longer he could hold on.  Clay knew that if he fell at this speed he would not survive.

Inside the cockpit, Caesare had no idea whether John had been able to grab hold in time.  He could not see the right side of the skids and the darkness was not helping.  Palin was grabbing the edge of the open door tightly.  He could see no sign of Clay either.  Caesare hoped he was there but had to assume he wasn’t.  He popped up over a group of tall trees and dove back down again.  It was now up to him to get Palin home.

Almost thirty minutes later, Caesare spotted the clearing he was looking for.  The glow lights on the ground gave enough light to confirm the location
, but not enough to see the landing area in any detail.  He came in low and circled the small clearing looking for anything out of the ordinary.  Seeing nothing he slowed their descent and came down in the center.  With a slight pause just above the ground, he fell the last couple feet and bumped gently on the thick grass.  He turned down the engine and looked at Palin.

“You okay?” he asked.

Palin was a little shaken but nodded back.

As the rotor slowed, Caesare jumped out with a nervous knot in his stomach.  He bent down and looked under the frame of the helicopter.  On the other side, he spotted a large shape lying horizontally.  He quickly ran around the front and passed Palin who was stepping carefully down.  Clay was on the ground clutching his left shoulder and groaning.

“Clay!”  Caesare yelled excitedly.  “You crazy bastard.  Are you okay?”  He rolled him onto his back and saw that Clay’s left shoulder was much higher than his right.  He gently felt the area, front and back.  “It doesn’t feel broken.  Probably dislocated.”

Clay nodded but did not speak.

“I’ll set it for you.”  Caesare said.

“Wait, wait.”  He said through clenched teeth.  “Just give me a minute.”

Palin arrived and together they sat him up. 

Clay looked up at him.  “Are you okay?”

Palin nodded.  Together he and Caesare helped Clay back down onto the cool grass. 

“Ready?”  Caesare asked, reaching under his shoulder.

Clay winced but nodded.  With a sudden motion, Caesare moved the joint and dropped it back into place.  Clay let out a loud groan and rolled back onto his side.  He laid there for a few long minutes trying to regain his breath.  “Did you have to hit every tree?!”

“Hey, you were the one who wanted to do this in the dark.”

“That’s true.”  Clay acknowledged, forcing himself into a sitting position.  He searched for his right pocket and noticed the pistol still in its holster.  “How in the world did that not fall out?”

“See, it couldn’t have been that bad.”  Caesare joked. 

Clay found the pocket and ripped the Velcro open. He pulled out a small padded package and unrolled it until his disposable cell phone fell out.  He flipped it open and dialed a number.

A similar phone rang on Borger’s desk.  He answered immediately.  “Clay?”

“Hey Will.”  Clay said gritting his teeth again as the other two helped him onto his feet.  “How did we do?”

“Not too bad,” said Borger, “you were gone before most of them showed up.”  He moved the phone to his other ear and reached for his mouse.  “The darkness helped and so did the big welcoming party on the other side of the base.  Caesare did pop up high enough a few times to show up on
radar and they are coming after you.  Fortunately, I was able to change the radar’s algorithm, so it reported you moving in the wrong direction.  They are currently pursuing you to the North, so that should give you some time.”

“Okay, they coming in choppers?”  Clay asked.

“Actually no, they are primarily on wheels.”

“What?  No aircraft?”

“No.”  Borger answered.  “We got a little help on that front.”

Clay did not know what that meant, and frankly didn’t care.  Whatever luck he had going for them he was not going to question.  “Okay we’ve got to head out, anything else?”

“Yeah.”  Borger said switching windows on his computer screen.  He typed a couple of commands and looked again at the response.  “It looks like our twelve Trident subs are approaching Bimini.”

“Already?  That was fast.”

“Well maybe not.”  Borger said.  “Clay…the orders were issued three days ago.”

Clay thought for a moment.  “But that would be before the President ordered them out.”

“Exactly,” Borger replied, “so either we were being played by everyone in that room, or-”

“Or someone
else
had already given the order.”  Clay finished.

“Or both.”

Clay looked at Caesare who was examining the tail of the small helicopter.  Some of the film was peeling off from hitting the trees, revealing the chopper’s real call letters.  “Anything else?”  Clay asked Borger.

“Not for the moment.  We should get off the line.”

“See ya later.” Clay nodded and closed the phone.

“What’s up?” Caesare asked, pressing the torn film back into place.

“I’ll explain on the way.”

Hank Stevas watched the large group of United Nations delegates and scientists flood the reception area from behind a glass wall.  He shook his head.  This was turning into a circus.

Bill Mason, stood behind him on his cell phone.  After a few minutes, he hung up.  “That alarm was from our building on the west side.  Palin is gone.”

Stevas’ eyes narrowed and his face grew red.  “Clay!”

“Why would Clay take him?”

“Because he’s a goddamn boy scout!” Stevas spat.  “And now he knows everything.”  He shook his head angrily.  “I
told
Langford not to tell him!  I told him I would take care of it, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“So what do we do?” Mason asked.

Stevas looked back at the people continuing to pour into the larger room, smiling and shaking hands.  “Clay knows exactly what we have planned, and even if he didn’t these people are going to turn this into a political nightmare.  After a week of talking, they’ll form a scientific
commission
.”  The disgust almost dripped from his lips.  “Democracy is such a poison.”

“When Clay gets Palin home, we’re sunk.”  Mason said.

Stevas looked at him.  “If we’re going to do something, we have to do it now.  We’re losing control.”  Stevas pulled out his phone and dialed a number.  He spoke slowly.  “This is Stevas.  Do it.”

There was a pause while someone on the other end spoke.  “That’s right.  I am speaking with the full authority of the President.”

He hung up.  “If he won’t do anything, we will.”

“So where is Clay headed?” Mason said out loud.

Stevas thought it over.  “He’s headed South.”