“This ship plan here…” Matt said, pulling Meredith’s fax onto the desk. “This thing shows the runway down the center aisle of the ship.”
“It’s weird, bro. Gary said he saw containers stacked to the sky on that bad boy,” Blake said.
Matt looked at him.
“Maybe it’s just a shell. Maybe the runway is beneath the shell of those containers,” Peyton said. “They would have to know about our satellite capabilities.”
They both looked at her and then at each other. Matt thought it was possible, but it was a huge engineering feat that would have required years of thought, planning, and construction.
“I think there’s a good possibility you’re right, Peyton. China’s no friend.” Blake patted Peyton on the back lightly.
“That would mean this conspiracy dates back at least ten years,” Matt said. “Kind of makes you wonder what else has occurred in those ten years — what other Trojan horses are out there.”
“So we find the runway and these UAVs,” Blake said.
“No. The ground control station is what we’re after. The UAVs are useless without the terminal. So instead of having to take out eighteen UAVs, we need to disable one ground control station. If we get the station, I think we’ll destroy whatever capability Dr. Insect built into these Predators. The station looks like this,” Matt said, pulling out a sheet of paper with a picture on it. “This isn’t exact, but it was the best I could do on the Internet yesterday.”
“Looks like a computer terminal inside a refrigerator,” Blake said.
“Right. But the distinguishing feature of this puppy is that it has a unique antenna on it that looks like the Space Needle. We find that antenna on the ship, we know the general location of the ground control station,” Matt said.
“You’re a genius,” Blake acknowledged.
“I know.”
“Now for Zachary,” Matt continued, moving to the next sheet of paper. “This shot of the ship’s interior rooms is almost like a blueprint.”
“Okay,” Blake said, staring at the diagram.
“Anyway, there’s a section of rooms right here that are labeled,” Matt said, pointing at the diagram. “It shows these rooms here as service rooms. And everything else, if you think about it, kind of fits what we believe that thing really is, which is an aircraft carrier. These rooms are the only place they could confine someone.”
Matt’s finger smacked the map emphatically.
“He has to be there,” he said.
“So, we look for the ladders that will get us closest to where Zachary and the space needle are,” Blake said.
“Roger. Let’s rock,” Matt said, pushing the papers away and walking toward the door.
Blake, Matt, and Peyton walked out the back door along a dimly lit path to the dock and stepped into Blake’s Boston Whaler.
“Why not the Zodiac?”
“Save that for tomorrow night. I’d rather only run that puppy one time past the big boat.”
They shoved off with Blake cranking the low humming engine and the Mercury 200 shaking in the water on low throttle.
Matt looked at Peyton, who was staring into space, arms folded and a decidedly worried look on her face. She was an enigma. She had come out of nowhere, crashed into his life, and suddenly his fate and the fate of the free world hung in the balance. Was it just coincidence, he wondered, or was there something more to it? Was she by his side because of Providence? Or had she been delivered to him by someone with more nefarious intentions? Was she good or evil?
As the Boston Whaler carved a quiet path into the broadening waters of Lynnhaven inlet, Matt could see the boat docks and yachts dotted along either side of the waterway. The still water of the inlet met mostly bulkheads, which gave way to well-manicured lawns and estates ranging from contemporary to traditional. Was this evidence of Hellerman’s notion of high mass consumption, or were these mansions symbols of freedom matured and refined over the years? The country was so insulated, so disconnected from the military and the global war. It was almost as if the country’s spirit was adrift.
Matt froze at the thought. There was no question in his mind that Hellerman was connected to Ballantine somehow. He could feel his adrenaline pumping, not unlike standing in the batter’s box at the bottom of the ninth inning with two outs, needing a hit to keep the rally going.
Blake made the turn past Chick’s Bar and Restaurant and aimed for the Lynnhaven Bridge. Matt felt the boat toss and pitch as Blake maneuvered the small craft through the rapid current where the Chesapeake Bay funneled through a narrow gap into Lynnhaven Inlet. He recognized the Danger, No Swimming and Danger, Fast Current signs flanking the passage. There was even one featuring the count of how many people had drowned in this very small area.
“Up to forty-eight, huh?”
“Yeah, pretty sad, man. Had a kid, maybe fifteen, a few weeks ago think he was invincible. Tried to swim the channel on a dare,” Blake said, pointing a football field away to the north where the shore reappeared and the Lesner Bridge reconnected with land. “Kid was maybe thirty yards into the water when he shot out to the bay like he was being dragged by a shark. They were doing it at night. All his friends on the shore were screaming. By the time they found him, he had drowned.”
“No place to screw around, that’s for sure.”
Blake navigated the bridge pylons, each one a different angle, appearing like some nouveau form of artwork. As they cleared the bridge and officially entered Chesapeake Bay, Matt saw the Duck Inn off to his right and the lights from the Bay Bridge-Tunnel ahead and to the left.
The quiet hum of the Boston Whaler’s Mercruiser engine was the only noise against the peaceful backdrop of a black night and the still waters of Chesapeake Bay. Matt looked at Peyton again, who seemed fixated on the distant horizon, many things no doubt running through her mind. Could he trust her? What was it that made him think he could not? Ballantine was ruthless, yet she had received medical treatment in captivity. And then there was the Irish Republican Army connection. Was that a true story? If so, had she gone native, as they say? What was her purpose in this operation? And there was something else, he couldn’t put his finger on it just yet, but it was close. Was her presence near him Hellerman’s way of keeping him close?
Or was she Lantini’s intermediary? His cutout? These thoughts darted through his mind like tossed boomerangs, always circling back.
One thing he did know, however, was that when a batter stepped into the batter’s box, he had to believe he was going to rap a line drive into the gap. He had to know he could beat the pitcher, no matter how good his stuff. So, there was no time for a lack of confidence or doubts about partners.
“Over there. See that giant black spot against the horizon?” Blake said, pointing.
“Roger, I’ve got it,” Matt said.
“I see it,” Peyton echoed.
“That’s the Fong Hou. We’ll swing wide like we’re going through the channel and then come back on its bow.”
“Okay. That should give us a view of the UAV antenna, and then we need to start looking for ladders,” Matt said.
They closed in on the black mass that quickly took the shape of an enormous commercial cargo ship with containers stacked high on top.
“Geez, they’ve got enough containers on there, all right. How the hell do they land an airplane on that thing?” Matt mused aloud.
“Like I said,” Peyton replied. “This ship could have just a shell with the containers stacked all around, leaving enough room for the UAVs.”
“Thought a UAV needed more room than that,” Matt said. “Blake, take it a bit closer. Angle over toward the third island there,” he said pointing at the giant boulders that constituted the entrance to the tunnel nearest the Eastern Shore, called the Baltimore Channel.