The Olympus Device: Book Three (34 page)

“Keep up! You haven’t even seen the best parts yet,” the younger Weathers chided the dithering duo, anxious to show off more of the space designed especially for Grace and Dusty. Continuing the tour, he ushered the couple to the media room. “This represents the latest 4K technology, complete with satellite feed and 2 stored terabytes of movies and shows. You just might end up a couch potato, brother,” Mitch teased, switching on the power to the screen.

Dusty having never seen such a large television, plopped down in the sectional recliner and kicked up his feet.

“Does it come with popcorn?” Grace snickered as she flipped the channels.

Throughout the tour, Dusty had had the rail gun tucked under his arm. Bard finally noticed, an apologetic look flashing across his face.   

Dusty could tell by the man’s curious glances at the rail gun’s case that the ex-military officer knew what was inside. “Do you want to see it?” he asked.

Captain Bard started to say no, but then changed his mind. “Yes, sir, I am curious as hell to see it.”

With little fanfare, Dusty pulled his invention from the case, unfolded the stock, and handed it to the captain. “It doesn’t look like much, but it shoots pretty well,” the Texan grinned.

“Amazing,” Bard responded. “This one small machine has more firepower than my entire ship… my old ship. Perhaps more than our entire fleet. It’s difficult to comprehend. In a way, our whole military is made obsolete by this single invention.”

“I think that’s been a big part of the problem,” Dusty nodded. “A lot of people don’t like the change this technology represents. Hopefully, over time, we’ll be able to put it to good, peaceful use.”

The captain passed the weapon back, nodding his head. “Thank you for that. I’ll have another story to tell the grandkids one of these days. Now let me show you the special place we have for you to secure that monster.”

Bard led Dusty to a seemingly blank wall, adorned with only a small mirror. “That glass is a retina scanner. We’ll program in your eye-pattern tomorrow, but for now, it will accept mine.”

The captain stared into the mirror and then brushed one corner of the frame.

Dusty saw a bright blue light illuminate behind the glass, almost as if Bard was having his picture taken with a defective camera’s flash. The wall emitted a humming noise, and then the structure began moving inward.

The space wasn’t large, but it was obviously well protected. “There is about 50 square feet of storage inside,” Bard remarked. “The walls are multi-layered armor, much the same as what our tanks and troop carriers utilize. Short of a nuclear detonation, this vault is impenetrable. There should be plenty of space for your invention, as well as any valuable personal items.”

Dusty was impressed, reaching up to gauge the thickness of the doors and their massive hinges. “I guess we won’t have to worry about cat burglars,” he said, admiring the solidarity and security of the entry.

With the tour over, Bard said, “I’ll leave you two alone for now and give you a chance to become familiar with the new accommodations. If you have any questions or need anything, that phone on the wall connects directly with the bridge. Please don’t hesitate to call.”

The ship’s commander turned to exit and then had another thought. “There will be armed Marines outside your hatch. They’re there to keep the curious away, not to keep you prisoner. We are still loading equipment and supplies, and I don’t want any strangers wandering unescorted on my ship. Now, I’m sure you’re both exhausted. If it is acceptable, I would like to stop by at 0900 ship’s time. I would be honored if you’d both join me for breakfast at the captain’s table.”

Grace responded, “That’s sounds wonderful, Captain. We’ll see you in the morning, and thank you for the hospitability.”

“I’ll leave you to rest then. Good night.”

Grace was in the head, fiddling with the shower controls. “Can I use all the hot water I want?”

Dusty laughed, “This isn’t a WWII submarine, hon. I think they can handle your showering needs.”

“I don’t know,” she teased. “That seemed like one long trip to me. I’ve got a whole lot of road grime to wash off. We’re going to have to talk to your travel agent when we get back, Durham Weathers.”

Dusty grinned, wandering around while waiting his turn. Grace’s head appeared out of the partially opened door, holding a towel over her upper torso. “By the way, I’ve never done it on a ship before. What’s that old saying about the motion of the ocean?”

Before Dusty could reply, she had disappeared into the now steamy stall, snickering all the way.

Breakfast was excellent but quiet. Dusty and Grace were exhausted from the late night travel and arrival, the thrill of new surroundings keeping the couple awake until the wee hours.

Dusty found Mitch on the deck, the professor’s cell phone glued to his ear. “What do you mean the shipment is delayed? I need that equipment in Seattle tomorrow!”

Listening to one side of the conversation, it was clear to the older brother than his sibling was frustrated. “I swear to God,” Mitch said, finally ending the call. “Some of these suppliers could mess up a two-car parade.”

Dusty grunted, “You and the crew hereabouts have done fantastic work, Mitch. There are always going to be glitches on a project of this magnitude.”

Before the professor could respond, his phone rang again.

Dusty stood next to Mitch, listening as yet another problem was laid in the professor’s lap. “Are you kidding me?” the younger brother shouted into the cell. “That’s not even close to the date I was promised. I have a critical deadline for tomorrow, and you’re not going to make it. How are you going to make this right?”

Mouthing the words, “I’ll see you later,” Dusty started to wander off, trying to decide between taking a nap and exploring other parts of the ship. Before he was ten steps away, Mitch called out. “I’m not going to be able to set sail with you tomorrow,” he announced, obviously pissed.

“What do you mean?”

“I have a mass spectrometer on the way from Germany, and it’s been delayed by weather along the East Coast. I’m going to have to stay here until it arrives. I’ll guess I’ll meet you in Hawaii.”

“Hawaii? We’re going to the islands,” Dusty asked, apparently confused.

“Didn’t Bard tell you? We’re doing sea trials and a shakedown between here and Hawaii. According to the experts, there are always a dozen little things that need to be addressed after a major refit like this one. We’ve already got pier space reserved at Pearl Harbor. They’ll fix everything up there, and then we’ll be good to go.”

Dusty shrugged his shoulders, “Fine with me. I have always thought a luau might be the way to go.  I will tell Grace to get out her grass skirt and coconut bra.” He paused at his brother’s feigned disapproving expression. “Hey,” the older Weathers continued, “we
are
supposed to blend in, right?”

“Personally, I can’t wait to see you match up an Aloha shirt with your cowboy boots.” Mitch smiled at the realization that he had not seen his older sibling so relaxed in ages. The professor continued, “Andy is meeting us there as well. He’s going to fly over with my family, so it will be Grace and you on this first leg of the adventure. That will give you guys a few days at sea so you can make sure there’s nothing we haven’t thought of.”

“I haven’t been off this ship for weeks,” Captain Bard announced to his second in command. “We set sail tomorrow, so I’m going to head into town for a drink. There’s an old watering hole down by the Navy piers that used to serve reasonable Scotch. I haven’t been there since I was an ensign, and this will probably be my last chance to have a drink and chill out for a long, long time.”

“I’ll keep an eye on things,” replied the first officer. “You’ve busted your ass on this project. If anyone deserves a little decompression, it’s you.”

Bard walked to the front gate where he asked the guard to call him a cab. A short time later, he was entering the Rusty Chain.

Like so many establishments that cater to the military crowd, the Chain was full of historic memorabilia. The place looked Navy, felt Navy, and primarily catered to the men and women of the U.S. Navy.

He’d just ordered his first libation when a large shadow appeared over his shoulder. With a friendly smile, he pivoted to see who was violating his private space.

There were actually two of them, both in their early 20s, both wearing the uniform, both reeking of beer. “This is a service man’s establishment,” the larger of the boozers announced. “There are plenty of other places for a civilian to have a drink.”

“What about retired officers?” Bard asked, figuring the two drunks were more bluster than threat.

“You ain’t no retired officer,” slurred the other aggressor. “You’re too young to have retired.”

“Captain Christopher Bard, retired,” the ex-officer said, offering his hand. “Recently retired, as a matter of fact. Why don’t you gentlemen let me buy you a drink?”

Dismissing Bard as having little potential for an argument, intimidation, or a fight, the larger man waved off the offer and moved along to find other entertainment.

“Did you say your name was Bard?” asked another fellow a few stools down.

Chris realized he’d probably just fucked up, studying the questioner with a wary eye. “I did,” he finally answered honestly.

“I think we’ve met, Captain. I was stationed at Norfolk for two years,” replied the man. “Jack Lamar, formerly the weapons officer aboard the
Stark
.”

Bard knew the ship and her captain. The seated man did seem familiar, the mention of his boat bringing back vague memories. “So how are you doing these days, Jack?”

“Not so good, sir. They forced me to separate nine months ago, and I’ve been having a hell of a time finding work. What about you?”

“Same here,” Bard lied. “I got caught up in some politics and resigned my commission a while back. But, I got lucky and found some temporary work out here on the left coast.”

“Really?” Jack perked. “Do they need any more men?”

“No, sorry, I wish I’d known you were looking… but the project is over tomorrow. That’s why I’m in here having a drink.”

Lamar didn’t like the response, but his reaction wasn’t aimed at Bard. “Just my luck,” he said. “Seems like I’m always a day late and a dollar short.”

Bard threw back the bottom of his scotch, relishing the warm liquid as it burned its way down his throat. “One more,” he instructed the attentive barkeep. “And one for my friend Jack… whatever he’s having.”

Bard was halfway through his second before Jack spoke up again.

“I’ve been sitting here racking my brain,” Lamar began. “Weren’t you the skipper on
Gravely
, sir?”

Sensing no malice from the man, Chris answered honestly. “Yes, I was.”

It all seemed to fall into place for the semi-inebriated sailor. “I’d say you ran into some politics,” he laughed. “Last I heard, you were up on charges. Did they get dropped?”

“Yes, the board of inquiry found no facts to support a court martial. But it was clear that my career in the Navy was over, so I resigned.”

“Too bad,” Jack sighed, shaking his head. “With all that shit going down in Washington, and all the crapola about some superweapon, nobody is hiring. I heard today we’re looking at a second depression if things don’t improve. None of that makes my wife feel any better. We got one in college and one about to go, and the savings is just about gone. That poor woman… she suffered through me being gone for months at a time, and now that I’m finally out, there’s no job and no money.”

“I hear you, friend,” Chris responded sympathetically, feeling the man’s pain.
That could be me
, he thought.
I could be sitting right where he is
.

Bard finished his second and rose to leave. Glancing over at Jack, the captain said, “I’m going to let you in on a secret, friend. The president is going to make an announcement tomorrow that is going to kick the economy in the ass. This whole rail gun ordeal is over; it’s no longer a threat. Hang in there man; things are about to get a whole lot better.”

And with that, Bard turned and exited the Rusty Chain, stepping outside to hail a taxi, feeling good about life.

After he’d left, Jack pulled a cell phone from his pocket.

A voice answered on the third ring, “Jack, I already told ya buddy, I can’t loan you any money.”

“That’s not what I’m calling about, asshole. You’ll never guess who just bought me a drink.”

“Admiral Nimitz?”

“Very amusing, shithead… very amusing indeed. Why my sister married you is way, way beyond me. Anyway, Captain Christopher Bard, formerly of
Gravely
, just bought me a drink.”

“The missile attack guy? He’s not in the brig?”

“Nope. He’s been working on a project out here in Seattle, and it’s finishing up tomorrow. He was in the bar celebrating.”

“Okay…. So?”

“So, he told me that the president is making some major announcement tomorrow that will jumpstart the economy big time. He said that Texan with the doomsday weapon is no longer a threat.”

“Hmmm. Interesting. News to me.”

“Oh, come on now. You can’t tell me a guy working in a senator’s office doesn’t know about some big news story that’s going to splash tomorrow. Seriously, what’s up? ”

“
Seriously
, I don’t have any clue as to what your friend is talking about. Besides, the FBI is looking for my boss even as we speak. They think he had something to do with the coup attempt.”

“Why doesn’t he just show himself and clear his name?” Jack asked, following his alcohol fogged logic.

“No one knows. Speculation is that he’s waiting until the feds find the real culprits so he doesn’t get dragged through the mud. Other people think he was killed in the firefight that took place here in the capital.”

“No matter. Sorry I bothered you, brother-in-law. I am so desperate for good news, I thought you might be in the loop.”

Jack’s attention was diverted to a disturbance, the two men who’d accosted Bard finally having found someone to argue with. “Gotta go… there’s going to be a fight.”

The senator’s aide returned his phone to the desk, staring out the window at the capitol dome, wondering if his wife’s down and out brother was simply drunk… or had actually stumbled onto to something big in the works.

With Senator Hughes on a definite downward spiral, he might be looking for work himself soon enough. The fact that his boss had disappeared into thin air wasn’t a confidence builder, to say the least.

A few moments later, he was on his laptop, performing a variety of searches on Seattle, Bard,
Gravely
, and any other keyword he could come up with.

After an hour, frustration began to set in. He was about to give up when he remembered a contact he had at Norfolk. Maybe he could shed some light on what was going on with the former Captain Bard.

He tried the man’s office line, but the voice mail indicated a different person now owned that number. He dialed the cell number next and smiled when his call was answered by the vaguely familiar voice.