The Maltese Incident Page 6

  “But there is other shipping news to tell you about, and this story is about as strange as news gets. We have been receiving reports best described as weird. The Norwegian Cruise Line ship, the Melody of the Seas, has apparently encountered a shark on steroids. The ship is currently tied to a dock in Lisbon, Portugal. Aldo Costa, a reporter with our Fox News affiliate in Lisbon is on the bridge of the Melody of the Seas speaking to Captain Lars Ragnarssen, who will tell us about the sighting of a truly giant shark.”

  “Hello, Shepard, Aldo Costa here for Fox News. This is one of the strangest stories I’ve ever filed. As you said, I’m here with the captain of the Melody of the Seas, Lars Ragnarssen.”

  “Hi, Aldo, welcome aboard the Melody of the Seas,” Captain Ragnarssen said, “and hello to the viewers of Fox News. Yes, the stories you’ve heard are true but very strange. Besides myself, many of our crew and passengers have reported a gigantic shark swimming near the ship. The size estimates are anywhere from 60 to 100 feet. At one point the fish breached, completely leaving the water. Our quick-thinking lookout managed to get a photograph. Here it is.”

  Costa held the photograph up for the camera.

  “I’ll email this to you, Shepard. It’s amazing—a fish bigger than a whale.”

  “Captain Ragnarssen, I understand that an American warship, a destroyer, was cruising nearby your ship.”

  “Yes, Aldo,” Lars said, “The captain of the USS Forrest Sherman was kind enough to volunteer his ship as our escort. When the monster fish appeared while we steamed toward Lisbon, Captain Langdon dropped a depth charge on the animal, killing it. He tried to tow its remains to port, about two hours away from our position, but the carcass was attacked and eaten by hundreds of fish. Only a small part of the skeleton remained, but we have photographs of the fish taken by passengers and crew.”

  “Have you spotted any other of these big sharks, captain?” Smith asked.

  “A few of our passengers reported seeing a huge dorsal fin off our stern, and one near the bow.”

  “And here it is, ladies and gentlemen,” Smith said, as the camera zoomed on the photo of the shark leaping out of the water. “Joining us on the line is Professor Max Feigenbaum, a paleontologist from the American Museum of Natural History here in Manhattan. Dr. Feigenbaum, what do you make of this photograph and the others I’ve shown you?”

  “I’m astonished,” Feigenbaum said, “simply astonished. Assuming that these photos are authentic, and I don’t believe that the people on the ship would lie, we’re looking at an amazing breakthrough in paleontology. In 1938 a Coelacanth, a fish assumed to be long extinct, was found in the West Indian Ocean. But this discovery far exceeds that one. And the fact that the captain reported multiple sightings only adds to the shock.”

  “Dr. Feigenbaum,” Smith said, “what kind of fish are we looking at in the photos?”

  “It’s a Megalodon, a giant shark that we thought became extinct millions of years ago. Shepard, this is the greatest development in paleontology since the discovery of the first dinosaur fossil. I don’t have to worry where my research will be directed in the future.”

  “Thank you Dr. Feigenbaum. I’m sure we’ll be talking from time to time.”

  “So, there you have it, ladies and gentlemen. Two unexplained sea stories—a vanishing ship and prehistoric shark sightings. As Dr. Feigenbaum told us, live fossils from the time of the dinosaurs are swimming in the ocean near Portugal.

  “And let’s not forget the Maltese Incident. Along with a crew of 35 and 950 passengers, the ship is still missing—two weeks and counting.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Our regular monthly meeting was scheduled for after lunch. Meg asked me if she could conduct the meeting and make a special announcement. Meg loves to hit me with surprises. The meeting would be relatively short, because the major plans that Meg, Randy, and I were working on needed more detail before we could make them an agenda item.

  After Meg welcomed everyone, she unfurled her surprise.

  “I was helping our ship’s librarian straighten out the shelves the other day, when I came across a book hidden behind a stack of other books.”

  She held up a book with its cover obscured from me because of the angle of where I sat.

  “Before I tell you about the book, I first want to tell you that I’ve come up with a new name for my husband.”

  Uh oh, I thought. Here comes the surprise.

  “Harry’s new name is ‘Captain Humility.’ Here’s why, and here’s why you should all read this book. Unfortunately, our library has only one copy, which was hidden until now.”

  She held up the book again.

  “An Ocean of Courage – The Story of Captain Harry Fenton by Captain James Langdon, United States Navy.”

  Meg then blew her nose and wiped away a tear.

  “I knew about Harry’s reputation as a war hero, but I didn’t know the depth of his courage until I read this book. Harry received the Navy Cross for leading his destroyer into combat in the Persian Gulf when it was attacked by four rogue Iranian gunboats. Rather than outrun the boats, Harry charged his destroyer at them, sinking all four. He was almost killed when an enemy rocket exploded on the bridge, earning him the Purple Heart for his injuries as well as the Navy Cross for valor. I had no idea of the history of the Navy Cross. I just learned that it’s the highest decoration a Navy person can earn, just below the Medal of Honor.”

  As Meg intended, the audience went ape shit, screaming and applauding. Now it was my turn to wipe away some tears. I was the one who hid the book behind the others in the library. Maybe my mother’s words took root. “True courage is doing the right thing when nobody else is looking,” she often said. Okay, I served my country and took some risks doing so. I really didn’t want my Navy exploits to define who I am. But Meg thought my experiences should be publicized. After she sat down next to me, Randy got up to say a few words. I leaned over and whispered into Meg’s ear.

  “You said you had a surprise, and you obviously did.”

  She turned her head and kissed me.

  “So now I know how you got that broken nose,” she said.

  I had told her that I was punched by a jealous husband.

  Chef Carlos walked down the center aisle carrying a huge cake, made with some of our remaining baking goods. He inscribed it with red, white and blue lettering: “An Ocean of Courage—The Story of Captain Harry Fenton.”

  The meeting completely fell apart, especially when Randy announced drinks on the house. A few people started chanting, “Speech, speech, speech,” and it caught on with the entire crowd. I’ve never been shy about speaking in public, but under the circumstances I felt like this was my first time.

  “I’ll admit that I’m the one who hid the book behind the stacks,” I said. “My service to the country that I love, although I’m proud of it, is part of a past life. I now have a life with a wonderful woman, a great group of people, and a new home in God knows wherever we are. I don’t know about Meg’s idea of calling me Captain Humility, but I guess it beats what she often calls me—Captain Asshole.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Federal Bureau of Investigation, Director Watson’s office, may I help you?”

  “This is Bill Carlini at CIA. Put Sarah on please.”

  “Hi, Bill, how’s my favorite spy?”

  “Well, Sarah, I may soon become your favorite unemployed spy.”

  “What are you talking about? You’re the best director the CIA ever had, at least since I’ve been around. Something tells me you’re getting heat from somewhere, and my guess is that it’s coming from 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.”

  “You’re perceptive as always, Sarah. Hey, you know I don’t like talking on the phone, and I don’t care how secure the damn thing is. I’d like to see you in your office in a half hour. I’ll have someone with me.”

  “Who’ll be with you? Let me guess—Buster?”

  “How did you know that?”

  “Bill, I
’ve known you for a long time. Anytime you’re upset about something you call on super spook Buster. Can you give me a hint at what we’ll talk about?”

  “I’ll bet you know that too, Sarah. Take a guess.”

  “The Maltese Incident? How’s my guessing score?”

  “One hundred percent as usual, my friend. Buster and I will be there in a half hour.”

  ***

  I’ve been known as Buster for as long as I can remember. I’m a Coptic Christian, and my given name is Gamal Akhbar. My name and my Middle Eastern appearance that I got from my Egyptian parents, usually prompts smartass questions like, “Where did you park your camel?” Besides Buster and Gamal Akhbar, my other name is Charles Atkins. Spies can’t have enough different identities. I also speak fluent Arabic. I guess you could call me a jihadi’s worst nightmare—I look like them, I sound like them, but I’m not one of them. I hunt them down and kill them. Bill Carlini, my boss and friend, has something sensitive for me to handle, like he always does. Add Sarah Watson to the brew and I can tell it’s something big.

  “Great to see you two again,” Sarah Watson said. “Bill, I’m glad you brought Buster along.”

  Like I said, something big was coming.

  “Bill, you’re not the only one who’s been getting heat from the White House about the Maltese Incident,” Watson said. “They’ve been all over me too. The president wants a joint operation of the CIA and FBI. It isn’t every day that an American cruise ship in international waters suddenly vanishes. A witness on a nearby yacht recalled seeing the Maltese bathed in light and then disappear. We haven’t been able to contact the captain of the yacht but we’re still working on it. Buster, Bill Carlini and I want you to take over as the lead agent on the case. Besides the fact that over a thousand people disappeared, the White House is all over the map on this incident because of the captain of the Maltese, Harry Fenton. The guy mustered out of the Navy last year with the rank of full captain even though he was only 40 years old. In a brief time he became a legend among destroyer captains with his heroic actions in the Gulf. The Navy Department, backed by the White House, had plans for Fenton to become an admiral. After he left the Navy he was asked to speak to school groups to recruit kids to apply to the Naval Academy. The president himself once met Fenton and apparently took a big liking to him. Your thoughts, Buster?”

  “I’ve read everything there is to read about this case, and I admit that I’m stumped. From what we know, it doesn’t look like the ship sank—it just disappeared into thin air.”

  “That’s why we want a super spook on the case, my friend,” said Carlini.

  “I’m not sure where to start. Any suggestions?”

  “Yes,” Sarah said, butting in, “I do have a suggestion, and I think you’ll like it. We’re booking you on a cruise on the Melody of the Seas, a Norwegian Line cruise ship that left New York two days ago. She’s headed toward Lisbon, Portugal and will cruise through the Azores, the part of the ocean where the Maltese went missing. You’ll fly to Lisbon and board the ship there. If we ever break this case it will be the result of basic cop work, talking to people, asking questions, and taking notes, all of which you’re great at. Our entire government is up to its eyeballs in theories about the Maltese Incident. The bottom line is that a ship disappeared, not sank—disappeared.”

  Great, I thought. They want me to investigate a case that’s almost impossible to investigate.

  “Enjoy your cruise, Buster,” said Carlini. “Please come back with some facts—no more theories. We need some answers. Hell, the ship’s been missing for three weeks.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “How long have we been gone? I’ve lost track.” Randy said. Meg, Randy, and I stood on the outer portion of the bridge. We were about to begin a planning meeting, so we figured we’d start with some fresh air.

  “We’ll have been gone a year and a half next week,” Meg said. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m starting to feel like I’ve been on this ship all my life.”

  “A year and a half?” Randy said. “The people back home must definitely think we’re all dead.”

  “Before we get down to details, we need to talk to somebody,” I said. “Dr. Rosario asked if she could talk to us. She should be here momentarily.”

  We heard a gentle knock on the door. Besides being an excellent physician, Theresa is extremely polite. She was invited to this meeting, so she could have just walked in, but she chose to knock.

  “Hi Theresa,” we all said.

  “Theresa asked if she could come by and take our vitals,” I said.

  “That’s close to the truth, Harry, because what I need to talk to you guys about is vital,” Dr. Theresa said. “To put it bluntly, I’m worried about running out of medicine, especially antibiotics. I’m amazed that our supplies have lasted this long. I’ve been stretching them as far as I can. If somebody comes to me with a mild fever, I put him in quarantine and prescribe liquids and bed rest. I know you folks are discussing plans to move ashore. We don’t know what kinds of nasty microbes we may encounter. I can’t guarantee that I have enough medicine to handle every illness.”

  “What about huddling with Bob Flowers?” Meg suggested. “He’s a damn good scientist. Hell, he figured out how we can make extra bullets and gun powder, not to mention how to distill booze. Maybe he can figure out how to stretch our medical supplies further.”

  “I’ve already met with Bob, and he definitely has some ideas,” Theresa said. “We’ve laid out a plan for trying to replicate the most basic medicines, and once we go ashore, we’re going to hunt for some natural substances. We especially need antibiotics and aspirin. Hopefully, between Bob and me, we can come up with a manufacturing process. I just wanted to alert you guys to a big problem facing us soon. A flu epidemic, God forbid, could wipe out a significant part of our little population.”

  “Do we know of any other people aboard who can help Theresa and Bob Flowers?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Randy said. “Tim Green from the research department has a biology background. He used to help us analyze potential investments in pharmaceutical companies. Harry, I think you should assign him immediately to work with Theresa and Bob.”

  “Oh, yeah, there’s that guy Jason Thomas,” Theresa said. “He’s constantly asking me if he can help. He’s got no medical or scientific background at all, so I keep turning him down.”

  “Maybe he just wants to learn, Theresa,” Meg said.

  “I hate to say this about anybody, but the guy gives me the creeps,” Dr. Theresa said. “There’s something about him that I just don’t trust.”

  “Theresa,” I said. “Thank you for sounding the alarm. This project is now a high priority item. Please keep us up to date on your progress.”

  ***

  “Dr. Theresa has put an exclamation point on this meeting.” I said. “We have some big decisions to make, and we need to think about the obvious. We may be stuck in this time for the rest of our lives, and I’m not being dramatic.”

  Randy and Meg looked at me.

  “We have no book to follow with this crazy shit, and we’ve got to consider the possibility that this is our fate. And if that’s so, we need to think about an alternative to living on the Maltese. We still don’t know how the hell we got here, but we need to deal with life as it’s handed to us, dinosaurs and all. So, here’s my opinion—we need to build a permanent home ashore.”

  “Thank God Ted Morton, the former owner of this ship, was a builder,” Randy said. “He was an eccentric billionaire and a talented wood-working artist. Despite his vast wealth, he intended to build his own mansion with a few outbuildings on an island he owned in the Bahamas. He carried enough tools and materials on this ship to build a small city. A shame he died before he could carry out his plans.”

  “But like you said, Randy,” I said, “Morton left a ton of building supplies in the hold of the Maltese, enough for us to construct a compound ashore. We’ve been talking about this idea f
or months, and now’s the time to act. We kicked the can down the road, avoiding making a tough decision. We’ve treated this like a bad dream that would just go away. Our shore excursion crews have been bringing us a steady supply almost edible small game as well as vegetables and fruit. The future, whatever the hell that is, lies ashore, not on this rusting ship. If we wait much longer it will turn into an emergency, which will be too late. Our electricity generation is at a low ebb, and that’s the most critical of our onboard systems. We’ve got to start planning and building now. With the professional tool shop and supplies that Morton left, we can make it happen. Let’s put our heads together and assemble a committee of people who are talented with physical stuff like building and farming. Meg has some great ideas, as usual, but we need to start nailing those ideas down. God knows we have a lot of smart people aboard, and it’s time to kick those brains into action. The bottom line—It’s time to plan for life ashore. Your comments?”

  “Electricity,” Meg said. “I talked to George Donaldson, who was an electrical engineer before he joined Malta, and he’s still up to speed on engineering matters. I talked to him about that waterfall on the mountain near the shoreline and my idea of hydroelectric power. He agrees with me that we can build a generating plant using materials that we have onboard. We have spare transformers on the Maltese, so we can capture usable electricity, not just raw juice. Donaldson thinks that we can be up and running with newly generated electricity within two months, maybe three.”

  “We need an electrical fence around the compound to protect us from neighboring dinosaurs,” Randy said. “I think the next item on our agenda should be the physical plant of Malta Town, the structures for housing and support. Wally Bellino is the perfect guy to head that up. He was a successful real estate developer before he joined Malta, and he knows construction inside and out. I showed him the building materials stored in our hold, and he said he could build a housing compound with what’s already onboard plus additional lumber from ashore.”