he thought about signing the final papers to take over Syncorp. Now China would have its own program. His Red Dragon project would be the only active one of its sort in the world.
His objectives were clear: copy, steal, buy, or reverse engineer everything developed in the American Red Wraith program. Remove or destroy any information that could be useful to the Americans. Finally, identify the man who was the Americans’ lone conversion and either acquire him, or kill him.
4
Thursday, 19 February
(3:34 p.m. Eastern Standard Time – Antarctic Circle)
Tanya Beck threw the microphone and buoy over the railing of the science vessel, Yonkers Belle. They splashed into the dark Antarctic sea and the orange Styrofoam spheroid bobbled in the waves.
It was their final observation. They’d start the long trip back to Deception Island the next day, and fly out of Buenos Aires for the States a few days after that. Once she was back home in the northern hemisphere, it would be a semester of writing her dissertation, and then coasting through one more term that would conclude with her Ph.D. defense.
One thing she’d learned in the past three months was that she’d never again travel to Antarctica – at least not willingly. The idea of studying whales and other creatures that inhabited the frigid waters was fascinating. The practice of actually doing such a thing, however, was more uncomfortable and fatiguing than she’d ever imagined.
A door slammed behind her, and she turned.
Professor Amelia Gomez stood at the bridge entrance and yelled into the wind, “All clear?”
Tanya gave her a thumbs-up and walked to the stairs, careful not to lose her balance as the small boat swayed in the waves. She grasped the rails tightly and took the stairs one at a time as to not slip on the ice that had formed on the corrugated metal. She opened the door to the bridge, walked in, and fought the wind to close it behind her.
Her runny nose was greeted by warm air mixed with the ever-present smell of diesel exhaust and stale coffee. “How does anything live out there?” she said under her breath as she lowering her hood and pulled off her gloves. “Final stop, right?”
A large bearded man in a baseball cap rolled his eyes and nodded to Tanya from his position at the helm, behind and out of view of Professor Gomez. Tanya struggled not to smile.
“Yes,” Gomez replied. “Just wanted to check this area on our way out. Another vessel spotted whales here. It would be nice to identify a few more before heading home.”
Tanya had had about enough of her advisor’s intellectual curiosity. She hadn’t been warm in three months, and was sure her life had been shortened by a decade. It would take weeks to erase the taste of the brine and diesel that coated her throat day after day. They’d made some interesting discoveries about Sei whales, which were thought to be rare in Antarctic waters, and she’d accomplished enough to earn a doctoral degree in marine biology, but she wondered whether it was worth it.
“Turn on the microphones,” Gomez instructed.
Tanya sat behind a small consul and flipped open a laptop that controlled the sound equipment. She booted up the system and donned a pair of headphones. Professor Gomez sat next to her and did the same.
“Volume,” Gomez said and twirled her finger.
Tanya guided the cursor on the screen to a button labeled Amplifier A , and increased its setting from two to six.
They sat still and listened.
A strange noise filled Tanya’s ears. It sounded like someone was striking a high-tension cable with a hammer, about once per second. “Are the motors off?” she asked.
Captain Tom nodded and shrugged his shoulders. “Everything’s off,” he said.
Gomez tilted her head. “Then what the hell is this?” She pulled off the headphones and gestured to the captain to come listen.
Captain Tom walked over and slipped on the headphones. He crinkled his brow as he listened.
His objectives were clear: copy, steal, buy, or reverse engineer everything developed in the American Red Wraith program. Remove or destroy any information that could be useful to the Americans. Finally, identify the man who was the Americans’ lone conversion and either acquire him, or kill him.
4
Thursday, 19 February
(3:34 p.m. Eastern Standard Time – Antarctic Circle)
Tanya Beck threw the microphone and buoy over the railing of the science vessel, Yonkers Belle. They splashed into the dark Antarctic sea and the orange Styrofoam spheroid bobbled in the waves.
It was their final observation. They’d start the long trip back to Deception Island the next day, and fly out of Buenos Aires for the States a few days after that. Once she was back home in the northern hemisphere, it would be a semester of writing her dissertation, and then coasting through one more term that would conclude with her Ph.D. defense.
One thing she’d learned in the past three months was that she’d never again travel to Antarctica – at least not willingly. The idea of studying whales and other creatures that inhabited the frigid waters was fascinating. The practice of actually doing such a thing, however, was more uncomfortable and fatiguing than she’d ever imagined.
A door slammed behind her, and she turned.
Professor Amelia Gomez stood at the bridge entrance and yelled into the wind, “All clear?”
Tanya gave her a thumbs-up and walked to the stairs, careful not to lose her balance as the small boat swayed in the waves. She grasped the rails tightly and took the stairs one at a time as to not slip on the ice that had formed on the corrugated metal. She opened the door to the bridge, walked in, and fought the wind to close it behind her.
Her runny nose was greeted by warm air mixed with the ever-present smell of diesel exhaust and stale coffee. “How does anything live out there?” she said under her breath as she lowering her hood and pulled off her gloves. “Final stop, right?”
A large bearded man in a baseball cap rolled his eyes and nodded to Tanya from his position at the helm, behind and out of view of Professor Gomez. Tanya struggled not to smile.
“Yes,” Gomez replied. “Just wanted to check this area on our way out. Another vessel spotted whales here. It would be nice to identify a few more before heading home.”
Tanya had had about enough of her advisor’s intellectual curiosity. She hadn’t been warm in three months, and was sure her life had been shortened by a decade. It would take weeks to erase the taste of the brine and diesel that coated her throat day after day. They’d made some interesting discoveries about Sei whales, which were thought to be rare in Antarctic waters, and she’d accomplished enough to earn a doctoral degree in marine biology, but she wondered whether it was worth it.
“Turn on the microphones,” Gomez instructed.
Tanya sat behind a small consul and flipped open a laptop that controlled the sound equipment. She booted up the system and donned a pair of headphones. Professor Gomez sat next to her and did the same.
“Volume,” Gomez said and twirled her finger.
Tanya guided the cursor on the screen to a button labeled Amplifier A , and increased its setting from two to six.
They sat still and listened.
A strange noise filled Tanya’s ears. It sounded like someone was striking a high-tension cable with a hammer, about once per second. “Are the motors off?” she asked.
Captain Tom nodded and shrugged his shoulders. “Everything’s off,” he said.
Gomez tilted her head. “Then what the hell is this?” She pulled off the headphones and gestured to the captain to come listen.
Captain Tom walked over and slipped on the headphones. He crinkled his brow as he listened.
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