Leap - 02 (36 page)

72

It didn’t take long.  Two of the earth movers were still operational.  Moving only a few pieces from each of the three boulder groups, their shapes appeared as random as any of the others.

After redirecting the water leak, and with another press of their makeshift magnet against the wall, the heavy door clicked and slid smoothly back into place.  The vertical seams appeared to change very little, with only small jagged pieces missing from the separation.  Ironically, it made the cliff face look more natural than it had before.

When the four returned to the helicopter, they were soaking wet.  They smiled when they stepped inside to find Dulce awake, lying against DeeAnn.  Even as tired as the small gorilla was, her warm eyes managed to open wider when she spotted Caesare.

No one said anything.  From the chair, DeeAnn observed the faces of the others and decided she didn’t want to know what they’d been doing outside.  She just wanted to leave. 

She had been through hell.  But she still had Dulce.  And she and Juan were both alive.  It was more than enough for her.  Now she just wanted to go home.

She watched Borger sit down in front of his laptop.  Clay followed and stood behind him.  After a few minutes, Borger leaned back, sharing the screen with him.

“I’d say it’s pretty unrecognizable.”

“Let’s hope so.”

Alison and Caesare came over to take a look and nodded in agreement.

Caesare looked at his watch.  “Who wants to get out of here?  We should still have enough fuel to make it down the other side of the mountain to Georgetown.”

Clay motioned outside.  “Good, I’ll follow you down.  I need to return the other one.”

“I’ll go with you.”

Clay smiled at Alison.  “How could I give up my favorite copilot?”

Borger was fast at work on the last piece.  He was getting into the system and removing the video data recorded from the ARGUS satellite.  He wouldn’t remove everything, just the data covering the top of the mountain back to the satellite’s launch date.  In fact, he wouldn’t even delete it.  The NSA, not surprisingly, kept copious backups of their data.  Instead of the deleting the files, he would corrupt them and leave them in place.  With a little extra help from Borger, the corrupted versions of those files would soon replace all of those in the backups, leaving only unusable files in the NSA’s repository.  Hopefully, by the time they realized the problem, it would be too late.  And Borger would remove all traces as to who did it.

With any luck, the distraction over the sinking of the Bowditch would give him enough time to finish.

Less than fifteen minutes later, both helicopters lifted off the ground and banked left in tandem.  Together, they smoothly descended the north side of the mountain and headed for the thin blue line of ocean on the horizon.

73

General Wei stood in front of his large office window with his hands crossed behind his back.  Outside, the smog had lightened enough to allow most of the citizens to go back outside again.  Long gone were the clear blue skies he remembered from his youth.  It had all changed.  It seemed the poisonous smog was now simply a cost of progress for Beijing, and many other cities.  The industrial progress of the country had been too much and too fast for nature to keep up.  And they were now paying for it.

There was a knock on the door behind him.  He replied and turned to see his secretary enter, escorting in the young lieutenant.  Wei knew him only by reputation and examined the man’s strong, youthful face.  A face that many still had, one of unswerving love for his country and army.  Wei wished he still had it.

Wei’s secretary ducked back out, closing the door.   He continued studying the man and his wrinkled uniform. “Has anyone else seen this?”

The lieutenant’s dark eyes were like stone.  “No, sir!  I brought it straight from Lieutenant Chao.”  He held out his arms and offered the small box to Wei. 

The seal was unbroken.  “You’ve done well, Lieutenant.  You will receive a personal commendation for this.” 

Wei kept his bemused expression from showing.  In a few hours, a commendation with General Wei’s name on it was more likely to harm the man’s career than help it.  Nevertheless, he saluted and dismissed him.   

When the door closed again, Wei placed the box on his desk.  He momentarily admired the box’s ornate exterior before breaking the wax seal and unlocking it.  Inside were three large vials of clear, frozen liquid.  The DNA was from some of the first plants captured in Guyana.  He held one up and examined it. 

Was it possible it had been tampered with or switched?  Of course.  There was always a way.  However, ultimately, Wei had little left to rely on but practicality. 

He placed the vial back in its place and closed the lid.  He then reached out and picked up his phone.  Wei was about to give his last order as one of China’s most decorated generals.

He had long known he would be the sacrificial lamb of his political masters.  Yet what he was about to do would cause his family name to end up as one of the most publicly hated in China’s history.

Their sacrificial lamb was about to leave its masters utterly stunned.

74

Lieutenant Chao stood on the deck of his corvette, too far away to see even the faintest hint of land.  Behind him, the fading sun was beginning to set against the watery horizon.  A sunset he hardly noticed.

He had very little time now.  The U.S. and Brazil were undoubtedly pursuing them which meant his stop in the middle of the ocean had to be swift. 

The corvette and the Russian submarine Forel were side-by-side with a makeshift gangplank running between the vessels.  The two Chinese submarines escorting them south would know they’d stopped and were undoubtedly waiting for them, just ahead out of sight. 

The transfer of the packaged plants off the corvette and onto the Forel was quick.  They weren’t taking many: just enough to grow and then sell the DNA on the black market.  It was Chao’s ticket to ultimate wealth.

With the help of his Russian partners, he was about to completely disappear.  It was the only way.  Until, of course, one day when
everyone
finally had the formula, and he would be able to buy his way back into China, into their aristocracy.  It was one of the constants in history; money always forgave.

Twenty crates.  That’s all he needed.  Hell, it took longer to tie up the boats than to transfer the precious cargo.  When the last crate was tossed aboard the Forel, Chao stepped aboard.  His life of hiding was about to begin.

Chao pushed the thick board away and watched it clamor down between the metal hulls, splashing into the ocean.  It was so loud that he didn’t hear the yelling at first.  However, as the gangplank sank below the water, he caught the sound of someone yelling below deck and frantically clamoring up the ladder.  Chao turned to find himself looking into the ashen face of the Russian captain.  He screamed a single word at the top of his lungs, which took Chao a split second to register through the heavy accent.

“Torpedoes!”

Chao’s eyes bolted open and he whipped around.  Not far away, he could clearly see four separate drafts speeding toward them in the water.  His last thought was one of confusion. 
The only submarines close enough to fire on them were their own.

All four torpedoes found their mark just seconds apart.  Together, the corvette and the Forel erupted in dual explosions.  Each of their hulls was ripped apart in the blink of an eye, along with their contents and crew.  Multiple fireballs billowed into the air and large pieces of burning metal shot outward over the water.  The explosions momentarily lifted both vessels before they promptly crashed back down together, plunging through the surface. 

The ocean wasted no time, immediately surging over and inside the gaping wounds. Once fully underwater, the hulls gradually twisted away from one another and descended rapidly toward their watery grave.

The explosions were tremendous, but they were still too far away to be seen from the white sandy beaches of Rio de Janeiro, where the trim figure of Carolina tiptoed over the sand and back to their chairs.

Blanco sat reclining, facing the sparkling blue ocean in front of him.  The soothing sound of the cascading waves tried to hypnotize him over the cool breeze.  

Carolina set his bottle down on the arm of the wide wooden chair and sat down in the adjoining recliner.  Without a word, Blanco reached for the beer and took a long drink.

Even with the limited authority she had, Carolina had been able to take control of enough of Alves’ assets to last them a lifetime.  The vast majority of the billionaire’s wealth still belonged to the corporations, which didn’t bother him.  It was best not to be greedy and draw too much attention.  Blanco was also pleasantly surprised at how easy it was to modify someone’s living will.  Especially when the parties involved stood to benefit handsomely.

As expected, the investigation would go on for some time.  Blanco’s explanation of their fight with the Chinese on the mountain and the resulting deaths of Alves and his men met little resistance.  And now they had enough money to keep it that way.  He did regret having to kill the two pilots when he found them at the poacher’s camp, but it was the only way.  There would have been too many inconvenient facts left to explain.

As for Alves, Blanco held little remorse.  The man had made a great many enemies and yet still lived a long, wealthy life of which most others could only dream.  Given South America’s long tumultuous history, Alves enjoyed a better ride than almost anyone.  He should have been more appreciative.

Blanco adjusted his position and felt the searing pain in his shoulder.  He wondered about the man in black whom he had shot before fleeing the mountain.  The man was most likely dead.  Thankfully, Blanco had gotten a better shot off, but he was still damn lucky the stranger only got him in the shoulder. 

Blanco made an imperceptible shrug. 
Better him than me.

75

General Wei watched the tall trees pass by with a surreal sense of loss as he drove deeper into the mountains of Northern China. 
Why had he never fully appreciated the detail of the world around him until the end?  Why didn’t anyone?

Hours later, his car turned off the old road and into the gravel parking lot of a tiny hospital.  He was several hundred kilometers outside of Beijing, in a small rural town that the country’s reckless industrial expansion seemed to have forgotten.  He brought the car to a stop and slid the gearshift into park, then opened his door and immediately stepped out.

Retrieving a large satchel from the back seat, Wei marched briskly toward the old, faded double doors.  He pulled one open and walked down a narrow hallway.  When he reached the last door, he paused and gently pushed it open.

She was just as he had left her.  Lying in bed, with eyes closed.  She was so beautiful.  Her smooth face and delicate hands still looked as tender as he could ever remember.  It was only her accelerated breathing that gave away her illness.  He lowered himself onto her bed and placed his old hand over hers. 

She wasn’t diagnosed with degenerative heart disease until after her mother had died.  A small part of him was thankful for that.  Watching his daughter slip away was torture enough, but the thought of having to hold his wife while she watched would have been unbearable.

Wei stood up and turned around in the same motion, setting his satchel down on the old table.  He unlocked it and promptly pulled out a small brown paper bag.  He tilted the bag down, causing the first vial to slide out into his palm.  He then held the cylinder up and shook it.  The fluid was now completely thawed.  Inserting the needle of a syringe into the top, he pulled the small plunger back, withdrawing the clear liquid.

He stared at his angel for only a moment before finally inserting the needle into her IV tube and discharging the bacterial solution.  Next, he calmly, but quickly, began withdrawing the solution from the second vial.

When he was done, Wei slipped the bag and the empty vials into his coat pocket.  He left the rest of the contents in the satchel.

He sat back down on his daughter’s bed and held her hand for the last time.  God, she was so beautiful.  So perfect.  Just like her mother.  She had been his sunshine in a world of darkness, with her eyes always so bright and pure.

Now, her heart was in the last stages, and a final gift was all he had left to offer.  When he’d learned of the discovery in Guyana, he knew it was his last hope.  His only hope.  And he had moved heaven and earth to make it happen.

Now his precious seventeen-year-old daughter lay helpless, fighting against a disease that was quickly breaking her body down.  Why were the most beautiful so often the ones taken?

Wei would never know if the DNA solution helped her.  He could only pray now that it would.  If it did, he hoped that she would one day learn the truth about why her father took his own life.  That it was an act of a man who had sacrificed everything to give her one last chance.

From the beginning, he knew it was unlikely they would be able to harvest the plants without someone finding out.  He also knew that they might have to fight their way out to protect it.  But when the Americans showed up, Wei knew his fate was sealed. 

Nevertheless, a preemptive strike against the United States would only lead to trouble.  Especially when they finally discovered it was a Chinese submarine that had destroyed the U.S. science vessel and not the Russians.  And the most obvious solution to avoid the Americans’ rage was to blame the attack on a rogue officer.  Someone with both the authority and the mental deterioration to do it.  After all, the man had lost both his wife and daughter.  Once identified, his government would, of course, have to make him the example and the punishment severe.

However, Wei had other plans.  Even in her critical condition, he had moved his daughter to a safe location.  Some place his masters would never think to look.  After the funeral service, he changed her name and enlisted the help of a truly honorable man: a rural doctor and a faithful man of God.

The doctor would care for Wei’s daughter until her final day, whenever that would be.  The rest of his satchel, packed full of money, would provide whatever resources the man needed to help his people.  And one day, he might just be able to tell Wei’s daughter the truth.  That Wei was not mad.  He was not insane.  He was a man of morals who had seen too much in his life, and too much of the true state of humanity.  He was not about to unleash the power of immortality upon a race whose only decent values came from the unavoidability of death.  Left unchecked, with no earthly penance, he had little doubt that his fellow man’s soul would become something truly terrible.

And yet, in the end, he was a father.  A father who loved his daughter more than life itself.  He could destroy the precious cargo of his masters, but he would
never
let his little girl go without doing everything he could to save her.

If she survived, perhaps her special DNA would one day in the future be discovered when the human soul had grown wiser.  But the time was not now.

He only hoped that whoever was in charge of the discovery for the Americans, believed the same.