Read With These Eyes Online

Authors: Horst Steiner

Tags: #thriller, #love, #friendship, #action, #lesbian, #buddhism, #quantum, #american idol, #flu vaccine, #sustainable, #green energy, #going green, #freedom of speech, #sgi, #go green, #chukanov, #with these eyes

With These Eyes (17 page)

Isabelle sidled up behind him. "Nice vessel,
Herr Valkeere."

The man turned around. It was obvious the
submersible craft was his pride and joy. With wide eyes and a
smile, he responded to Isabelle's compliment. "Thanks, just getting
my baby out of dry dock." It dawned on him how unusual it was that
this woman he had never met knew who he was. He did sense a certain
familiarity with her. With the same warm smile and a puzzled look
he began to ask, "How did you..."

Isabelle interrupted him. "My very good
friend Fuji Satori told me I might find you here." Isabelle
extended her arm in greeting, "my name Isabelle de Fleur."

Lars shook her hand. Hers was a name he knew.
"Gemma's girl?"

With a smile whose warmth he could feel in
her handshake, Isabelle nodded. He was truly happy to see the
daughter of his old friend. "Please call me Lars. I used to take
your mother up here, back when she was still..." he realized his
callous comment may have opened up an old wound. "Oh, I'm
sorry."

Isabelle's face turned more somber. "I'm used
to the thought of her gone," she said but deep inside, she hadn't
accepted the thought at all.

A few miles from the harbor, the unusual
garbage truck was circling in a loop with the platoon swarming
along to avoid getting stuck with their engines frozen. At the
center console inside her mobile command post, Tasha was watching
Isabelle's exchange with Lars on a satellite image. Isabelle's
brightly glowing hands and face had become Tasha's leash after the
secret tooth transmitter shorted out in the seed bank. Tasha had
been on the road because of this one person non-stop. She would not
interrupt her mission for meal breaks, so Tasha took in sustenance
when it was tactically feasible. This was one of those moments. She
was eating meat from a ration can with her favorite combat knife.
Food tasted best to Tasha with action. She was fascinated by
Isabelle's resourcefulness and resilience. Tasha had gotten so
deeply engrossed in Isabelle's image, she forgot the sharp blade
that had delivered a chunk of meat was still in her mouth when she
bit down on her food. Immediately, the knife took on its original
function - to cut living flesh. The razor-sharp titanium blade left
a gash oozing blood from Tasha's lip. The sting of her blade gave
Tasha the sensation of battle. She pulled the sharpened metal away
from her lip. A lick with her tongue and the taste of her own blood
confirmed for her body what Tasha's mind was seeing so far removed
from the physical location of battle. The warrior was on the hunt,
mind and body.

At the harbor, Lars was excited to meet
Isabelle, but the words he was about to utter were mirrored by a
face of sorrow. “There is so much I'd like to talk to you about,
but my ship is leaving late already because of this.” He pointed to
the yellow submersible. It was floating in the water dockside, the
harbor workers were removing the last two straps that tied it to
the crane. His eyes said he wanted to talk to Isabelle, but his
words bore a different message. "If we stay anchored any longer,
we'll be frozen in." Lars jumped onto the short deck of the
research vessel. Isabelle knew she had to leave Spitsbergen. The
sound of approaching police sirens reaffirmed the urgency of her
departure. Lars gave her a questioning look when he heard the
sirens of what must have been every police car on the island
approach.

Isabelle's sincerity was in her voice. "Don't
worry, I didn't..."

Lars read the situation for what it was. He
cut Isabelle off in mid-sentence while extending his hand towards
her from the boat. "I have a hunch I might know what this is about.
Your mother had these problems at the end. Jump in!"

Isabelle took his hand and jumped aboard. She
followed her new-found friend through the hatch of the underwater
craft. Control panels lined both sides of the submarine's interior.
Isabelle closed the hatch behind herself and turned the wheel at
its bottom to seal the boat for diving. The front of the craft
consisted of a bubble-window that offered pilot and co-pilot an all
around view of the icy abyss. Lars took his seat behind the conn.
Isabelle was soon seated next to him and the small submarine
flooded its ballasts to dive.

Tasha had the satellite view of the harbor on
her main screen. Like a spectator at the racetrack, she was quietly
rooting for the procession of police cars to reach the docks in
time. Soon, the convoy arrived at the port and Tasha saw police
swarm out across the compound. "We've lost contact with the
package," reported the Trooper to Tasha's left. One of the patrol
cars had nearly reached the submarine's dock, when the bright
yellow glow from Isabelle's marker vanished in a vortex of bubbles
and water. "The water is shielding particle detection."

"Find out where the sub is going!" Tasha
barked in fury.

Both Troopers were busily searching for an
answer to give their angry commander. One of them found access to
the day's work orders for the shipyard. Among them, the repair of
the submarine's bent rudder. "Vessel owner's registry includes a
research icebreaker currently anchored offshore. Next registered
port of call is Copenhagen, Denmark."

Tasha was ready to continue her global
pursuit with mixed feelings. She was upset the prey continued to
evade her, but looked forward to another piece of heavy, high-tech
machinery. Tasha enjoyed all the weapons and technology she had at
her disposal. She truly felt she had the upper hand over nature.
Her orders, as usual, were curt. "Platoon, this is Tiger-Eye.
Package is on the move to Denmark. Company will board amphibian
assault craft at hoverport immediately." The driver of the heavy
spy truck turned his wheel, skidding to turn on the frozen roadway.
The platoon in their four-wheel drive vehicles followed suit.

In a convoy of darkness, Tasha and her
Troopers thundered across the island towards the company's
hoverport, adjacent to the docks where Isabelle had slipped
away.

 

22 LIONEL GETS WORSE

At the same time in Los Angeles, Isabelle's
father Lionel was suffering from the increasing toll the virus was
taking on his body. His swollen eyes were focused on a picture in
his hand. In the center of the bamboo frame was a photo of
Isabelle, Gemma and him in the early 1990s in the jungle of South
America. Lionel's body was aching with every labored breath. His
one chance was for his only daughter, his pride and joy, to defeat
Apophis and stop their assault on the world. Lionel had a lot of
faith in Isabelle's abilities but this seemed too big to take on,
even for her.

Lionel felt utterly helpless.

 

23 A MAN WHO SAILED THE SEAS

The submarine that was carrying Isabelle to
safety had become a pod of calmness. Despite the threats looming on
the surface, Isabelle had managed to find a place of serenity.
Isabelle had driven and flown many vehicles, but a submarine was
something she had always wanted to pilot. She was anxious to broach
the subject with Lars.

"Looks like flying a really slow plane," she
said to him with anticipation in her voice.

Lars wasn't surprised that Gemma's daughter
turned out to be handy with vehicles. He returned her smile.
"That's about the gist of it, except you don't have to worry about
stall speed." Lars felt compelled to offer his vessel to Isabelle.
"You want to try?"

Without hesitating or even saying another
word, Isabelle had her hands on the conn. With amazing grace, she
piloted the craft through the pristine waters of the Arctic Ocean.
The powerful headlights reached far through the aquatic night.
Their bright beams illuminated colorful jellyfish that floated in
clusters along the way. Isabelle made a few yaw and dive maneuvers
to steer clear of the swarm of translucent animals when out of the
darkness, a small herd of seals appeared. The curious animals
playfully swam along. The seals seemed equally fascinated by
Isabelle in her unusual vehicle. After a short journey, the
submarine was nearing the icebreaker. Lars picked up the radio.

"Galaska, this is Nemo, we are in approach
for dock. Stand by to hoist the anchor."

The call was answered from the icebreaker's
bridge by the first mate Knut. "Copy, Nemo, submarine bay is
standing by." Knut pushed the blue button near the wheel. The
booming sound of the ship's horn rang out across the water. The
ship's crew and its staff of marine biologists knew this was the
sign for departure. The scientists stowed their experiments for
travel. The crew sprang into action with preparations to sail back
towards the warmer temperatures of Europe's mainland.

The submarine was approaching the ship's
docking bay. Lars was back on the controls, although Isabelle had
insisted on her ability to properly dock with the icebreaker. The
small sub surfaced inside the ship's bay. Lars shut down the main
power and opened the hatch. He climbed the submersible's ladder and
stepped onto the docking bay, followed by Isabelle. The moment her
head appeared in the opening, a deafening alarm sounded across the
submarine bay accompanied by yellow flashing lights. It was the
ship's radiation alert. Lars looked at Isabelle and with a smile,
he shook his head. This was just what he would have expected from
the daughter of his old friend Gemma de Fleur. Fortunately for
Isabelle, the science vessel was equipped to deal with small
radioactive incidents. Once again, the universe had presented
Isabelle with a way to nullify one of Tasha's weapons. Soon, she
was in the ship's decontamination shower, removing all traces of
Tasha's radioactive isotope from her face and hands.

Not far from the dock where Isabelle had
escaped on the submarine, Tasha and her Troopers were hastily
boarding the company's Arctic amphibian assault vehicle. A
hovercraft large enough to carry 40 passengers on its bi-weekly
route to Europe, was powering up to serve its true purpose as a
troop carrier for Gene and Tasha's covert operations. Many of the
vehicles Tasha utilized served regular civilian duties. The
Troopers' cars would generally come from one of Apophis' many auto
rental subsidiaries. Aside from her specialized surveillance
trucks, most vehicles and vessels would recoup their cost through
passenger and cargo service. This helped maintain the fleet's
covert status and gave Tasha countless methods to hide in plain
sight.

The garbage truck was parked at the
hovercraft's dock. Two car-carriers with emblems of an Apophis
rental division, were pulling into the harbor's snowy parking lot.
Soon their drivers were loading the Troopers' 12 undercover cars
onto their transporters. The hovercraft was painted charcoal grey
and its aerodynamic shape suggested this was more than a simple
ferry boat. The craft had been scheduled to take a load of
passengers to Denmark the next day.
Poor Weather
would be
the only reason given to ticket holders for the cancellation of
their journey. This was an excuse most accepted when given the
extreme cold of the polar region. Tasha boarded the bridge while
her Troopers were loading in. Several seamen and the Captain stood
at attention and saluted Tasha. The Sea Captain was an old salt who
was hungry for battle. His skin was dark and weathered like an old
bomber's jacket from the decades he spent at sea. He once ran a
commando boat, but spent the past few years ferrying civilians from
Europe to the Arctic onboard one of Apophis' most unique weapons.
He had kept his security clearance throughout the years due to the
craft's hidden secrets and because a moment like this could have
come at anytime. Like a blood-hungry jackal, he was eager to join
Tasha's hunt, although he had never before acted under the command
of a woman. Such a thing was unheard of in his years as an active
warrior. It felt a bit strange but he had to say it.

"Welcome aboard, Commander."

Tasha snapped the tip of her flat hand
towards her temple. She was in a hurry. "Thank you, Captain. We
need to shove off right away."

"Aye!" shouted the Captain, he was ready.

The ship's projected course from the Arctic
island to Scandinavia was plotted on a pane of glass in the middle
of the bridge. Tasha marched towards a steel door in the aft of the
bridge. She passed through, followed by a couple of her Troopers.
Behind the door was the ship's surveillance deck. Interactive
screens and access to Tasha's familiar armada of ground and
satellite based spy technology provided the deck's interior. Tasha
had designed one very efficient surveillance room and applied that
model to Apophis' global fleet of covert vehicles. This enabled her
and the Troopers to quickly move from one spyroom to the next
without the need for retraining or adaptation. The hovercraft was
no different. Tasha took her seat in the center chair, directly in
front of the large view-screen. The two Troopers that entered the
room with her swiftly took their positions in the remaining seats
to either side of their commander. The Trooper on Tasha's right
placed a thumb-drive in of the console's ports. The memory device
contained Isabelle's last coordinates and information for the
surveillance system about available spy feeds and any other
selections Tasha's Troopers had made on
the big board
. A few
moments passed and the screens matched the configuration from the
garbage truck. The displays all filled with lost-signal
messages.

"Accessing S.S. Galaska."

The main viewer displayed a maintenance
schematic of Lars' icebreaker. The readout confirmed the ship's two
enormous propellers turning and the diesel plant running at ¾
speed. The Trooper typed a few keystrokes and one of the smaller
displays on the video wall showed the ship's navigation system and
the autopilot's plotted course to the Danish coast town of
Copenhagen.

A rumble spread across the hovercraft. The
cabin began shaking back and forth at an increasing rate until
reaching a constant roar. The hydrofoil's two gigantic rotors had
spun up to their operating speed. Massive amounts of air rushed out
below the craft's hover-skirt. Surrounded by a cloud of snow and
ice, the amphibian spy-ship levitated on a cushion of air. The Sea
Captain gave orders to the first mate and the ominous craft roared
forward off the ice-covered dock onto the open waters of the ocean.
The Captain maneuvered the hovercraft to a mile behind the
traveling icebreaker and followed Isabelle and Lars just slightly
off their port stern.

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