Nssm 200 - The Milieu Derivative Read online



  NSSM 200

  The Milieu Derivative

  Malcolm Franks

  Milieu Publishing

  First Published in Great Britain in 2012 by Milieu Publishing

  Copyright ©Malcolm Franks

  The moral right of the author has been asserted

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organisations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN 978-0-9566944-2-3

  Preface

  He slid towards the watch and touched at the wreckage. The hands had halted at just past ten. Light from the windows indicated the late afternoon sun was beginning to sink. Several hours had passed. He edged back to Rosa. No visible injuries, no broken bones or bullet wounds he could see other than the bloodied nose. It was hard to concentrate, focus, the mind … didn’t want to work, didn’t want to …

  And then he saw the puncture wound, in the crease of her elbow, a needle mark. Blink, blink to focus and look along her forearm. There they were, in line astern, three red blotches. She’d been injected with the virus. They both had. They were going to die.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1 - Maelstrom

  Chapter 2 - Marcie’s Law

  Chapter 3 - Planning

  Chapter 4 - The Woman with the Green Eyes

  Chapter 5 - Inventory

  Chapter 6 - Dilemma

  Chapter 7 - Small Hands, Tiny Feet

  Chapter 8 - A Thousand Times

  Chapter 9 - Encouragement

  Chapter 10 - Holding Back

  Chapter 11 - Vega One

  Chapter 12 - Olhos d’Agua

  Chapter 13 - Temptation

  Chapter 14 - Confession

  Chapter 15 - What’s in a Name?

  Chapter 16 - Can’t Stop the Rain

  Chapter 17 - Alliance

  Chapter 18 - Questions

  Chapter 19 - Pillow Talk

  Chapter 20 - London Calling

  Chapter 21 - Welcoming Committee

  Chapter 22 - Taking Control

  Chapter 23 - Overboard

  Chapter 24 - Inevitable

  Chapter 25 - The Promise

  Chapter 26 - Choice

  Chapter 27 - Image

  Chapter 28 - Hot Rain

  Chapter 29 - Reunions

  Chapter 30 - Entry

  Chapter 31 - Home Truths

  Chapter 32 - The Conversation

  Chapter 33 - Virtual Retreat

  Chapter 34 - Chase

  Chapter 35 - Rope

  Chapter 36 - Speak No More

  Chapter 37 - Damned

  Chapter 38 - Identity Crisis

  Chapter 39 - Out of Time

  Chapter 40 - Shoot the Pig

  Chapter 41 - Father’s Note

  Chapter 42 - Declaration

  Chapter 43 - One More Word

  Chapter 44 - Moonlight Confession

  Chapter One

  Maelstrom

  Pillows of black cloud were beginning to knit together on the not too distant horizon. Confirmation, if any was needed, that the predicted second storm front would soon arrive. Light was fading too, all the ingredients to a float plane pilot’s worst nightmare; howling wind, driving rain, and darkness. A bead of rainwater from the earlier storm caught his eye, clinging for dear life to the side window as the air flow did its best to tear it away. Another drop near the top of the pane surrendered its grip and snaked down the glass pane, slowly meandering to the inevitable collision. He watched as the two tears of the sky collided, separating both from the comparative safety of the window.

  “See anything, Matt?” asked a voice.

  “No,” he answered. “Before long this will be like looking for a granny in a pothole with a faulty flashlight.”

  “You go looking for grannies in potholes often then?”

  The likening was not entirely lost on his friend. Once the dark arrived all they’d have to illuminate the surface below would be the intermittent blades of searing hot light from the lightning sure to accompany the heavy storm.

  “How long has she been in the water now?” he asked.

  “Coming up to an hour,” said his friend.

  The odds were not good, growing worse by the second.

  “I’ll call it in,” he said, picking up the radio mike. “See if we can find out what everybody else is doing.”

  His companion nodded and continued the search.

  “Hot potato, hot potato, this is bad dog. What’s happening Donna?” he asked.

  “Can you not be serious,” said the voice on the radio.

  True to form, the respondent had no patience for silliness.

  “Hi, Grace. What are you doing there?”

  “We are here to tell you everyone else has come in.”

  “We?” questioned Matt.

  “Jenna is with me. You’ve been out long enough.”

  The suggestion made common sense. Conditions were set to deteriorate and pretty soon they would get caught up in a maelstrom.

  “What does the forecast say?”

  “It will last a while,” said Grace.

  “Maybe if we dropped a little lower, got a bit closer to the surface,” suggested his friend.

  Matt looked at the back of Will’s thick neck, reminiscent of those exhibited by NASCAR and European Formula One drivers, the muscles developed to withstand the incredible G forces they were subjected to during a race. The neck craned at an uncomfortable angle, as if this could somehow increase the range of Will’s eyesight.

  “Not sure about that,” said Matt. “This is a busy shipping lane and visibility is set to worsen.”

  “They’re big enough for us to see them coming.”

  “Being able to see them isn’t the problem, rather the other way round.”

  His companion jerked round, hazel eyes encased in worry.

  “You heard Grace. Everyone else has called it a day.”

  Will’s concern came as something of a surprise. As a once serving member of an elite SAS squad Will was trained to take calculated risks. But he’d also been trained to recognise a lost cause when he saw one, and this bordered on reckless.

  “We’re this woman’s last shot,” said Will.

  Matt couldn’t help thinking there was more to the request than his friend was revealing. To go lower in these conditions went against all logic.

  “If it was Grace down there,” said Will, “what would you want the pilot to do?”

  Matt nodded.

  “Maybe one last sweep of the area, closer to the surface, and then we’ll call it a day,” he said into the radio.

  “Matt, it’s too risky. Come in until the storm passes,” said the radio. “Jenna doesn’t want to go to church for a funeral.”

  The two men looked at each other and their faces broke out into broad grins.

  “End of days, the moment you say I do,” said Matt before addressing the radio. “She’s running out of time, Grace,”

  “Matt!” said Jenna’s urgent voice. “Stop playing silly bloody superheroes and get your asses back to Victoria. We’re not sending out rescue parties to save the rescue party. You’re like a pair of overgrown kids.”

  He looked again at Will.

  “She is right,” he said. “There won’t be a rescue party.”

  “I thought you meant about the kid thing.”

  “It’ll only take a few minutes,” he said into the radio.

  “Don’t you dare, Matt Durham,” shouted Jenna. “I won’t warn you again.”

  “You owe me for this, big time,” said Matt to the wide grin of his companion.

  The plane started its shuddering descent, accompanied by an onslaught of irate and unfamiliar Germanic dialect. Had he not known Grace better he would have sworn she’d addressed him with a range of colourful obscenities.

  “Hold tight,” said Matt.

  They plunged closer to the surface. What was a serene and placid landscape was about to turn into a maelstrom of rage and bitter tempest. There wasn’t much time. He skimmed the crests of the waves, hopping occasionally to avoid suddenly appearing malevolent wash intent on trying to submerge their flimsy craft. Seconds became minutes as the two scoured the surface of the water. Inexplicably the gathering wind chose to drop and the increasingly violent sea unexpectedly quell. A spear of bright light crashed close to their left.

  “There!” said Will. “Something white, over there.”

  Another intermittent flash of light allowed Matt to catch sight of what appeared to be flotsam, attached to something coloured orange, and he reached for the radio.

  “Found her,” he said.

  “Right, give us the co-ordinates for the Coastguard.”

  “She’ll be dead by then, if she’s not already.”

  “You’ve done enough,” said the radio.

  His mind was already fixed on the task at hand.

  “How has she managed to stay afloat this long?” asked Matt in incredulity.

  “The important thing is she has. Let’s get down there.”

  Matt took the plane in an arc, e
yes scanning the surround for any sign of nearby tonnage. Confident there was none he took them down.

  “Rope,” he said, motioning to the back of the plane during the approach. “Jenna will kill me if I lose you out here. Once I get close enough, jump in and get her. I’ll haul you both in.”

  “Can it take both our weight?”

  “Don’t know,” said Matt. “Still want to give it a go?”

  “Yeah, I don’t see why not.”

  The man had courage, but Matt knew that already. He brought them closer to the surface. Matt heard the roar of a gust of wind burst through the opened door as it picked up again and turned to look at his companion.

  “You did say you were ace at this flying lark,” said Will.

  “No. I said we were a pair of crazy bastards.”

  His friend smiled and gripped the sides of the open door as they dropped the final few metres. The floats shuddered at the impact and he reduced power for the approach.

  “Now,” shouted Matt.

  He heard the splash before switching off and dived to the open door to watch in trepidation as his friend neared the stricken woman. Hands under her chin Will turned to make his way back, Matt pulling on the rope for all his worth.

  “She’s alive,” shouted his friend.

  Between them they got her on board and Will went straight to the limp body. Carefully brushing away her bedraggled hair his eyes widened in recognition of a familiar face.

  “I’ve got you,” he said tenderly.

  Eyelids flickered open to reveal brown colouring, dulled by the ordeal, and she tried to smile.

  “Will, I knew you’d come for me.”

  Matt searched for a blanket as the young woman fought for life, a brave but futile struggle. With the last reserves draining from her body, she released her breath.

  “Stay with me,” pleaded Will. “Stay with me, stay …”

  Matt watched his friend’s shoulders slump in dismay as he fell back from the corpse.

  “You knew her?” asked Matt.

  The shake of the head prevented an instant response.

  “We were part of the same team, Vega One,” he eventually replied.

  “Was she coming to see you?”

  Ignoring the question Will threw off the blanket and slid his hands under the loose-fitting blouse to run his fingers over her flesh. Feeling something out of the ordinary he withdrew the hand and started to unbutton the garment.

  “What are you doing?”

  Again, Will chose not to answer.

  “People like Helen Nash don’t fall overboard a passenger ferry for no reason, not under any circumstances.”

  So that was her name. Moments later Will had uncovered the true cause of death, an area of skin discoloured by sea water harbouring a deep and ugly incision below the ribcage. She had been stabbed before being thrown overboard. Will lowered his head and exhaled, his worst fear confirmed.

  “Any idea who?” asked Matt.

  “No.”

  Unable to find any further words of solace Matt returned to the cockpit and picked up the radio.

  “Matt, what’s happening?” asked Grace’s voice.

  “We were too late, she’s dead. You’d better call the police and ...”

  He felt his arm gripped by a firm hand and turned to see Will shaking his head.

  “They’re going to find the wound sooner or later.”

  “I need some time,” said Will.

  “Matt, did you say the police?” asked the radio.

  “No,” he replied quickly. “Get an ambulance first. I’ll fill you in with the details when we get back.”

  His companion took a deep breath.

  “I’m sorry, Will.”

  “Someone will be.”

  The man was visibly shocked, taken aback by the death of the woman he knew. He had never seen Will shaken like this and wondered if there was more to their relationship than met the eye.

  “We’re coming in,” he said into the radio.

  “Are you both okay?”

  Matt looked to his companion.

  “If you need some time you’ll have to be solid,” he said.

  His friend nodded in acknowledgement.

  “We’re fine,” said Matt. “Be with you soon.”

  “What’s that noise?” asked Will.

  The approaching light high from the surface caught Matt’s eye long before the drone of powerful engines in the water.

  “Crap!” he yelled.

  He rammed his thumb into the start button. The engine made its first attempt to start, cylinders slowly spinning into life at his urgent command. After an interminable number of seconds the engine spat, spluttered and then stopped.

  “Not good, not good,” said Matt irritably.

  The vast mass of metal closed on their position, unable to see them sitting on the surface in the ever darkening light, and he pressed the red start button again as panic rose inside.

  Spit, spit ...

  Another few seconds passed by, another false start.

  “The only good news in this situation,” said Matt, “is that I wouldn’t have to face Jenna.”

  Matt calculated distance and speed as the freighter loomed ever closer. If they bailed out now they might have a glimmer of a chance of not being sucked under with the wreckage. He pushed at the button one last time.

  Spit, spit …

  “Crap,” he said.

  Chapter Two

  Marcie’s Law