Expedition Beyond by Rogger Bagg

Author:Rogger Bagg [Bagg, Rogger]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781611880922
Publisher: Prolific Works
Published: 2014-10-30T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

EDMONTON, ALBERTA, CANADA

LATITUDE 53° 33’ NORTH

LONGITUDE 113° 31’ WEST

Month 2, Day 29; 1500 UTC, 9:00 AM LTD

Mitch answered the telephone eagerly. “Hello!”

“Mallory here.”

“Are we on our way, sir? Is it time to ship out?””

“Sorry, Mitch, but no. If anything, the crap is getting deeper. If there isn’t any break in negotiations, word is we’ll be recalled in a week. It’s a Mexican standoff; nobody’s willing to move. Anyway, that’s not why I called. I want to show you my dog. A car can pick you up in an hour.”

“Fucking great—not your dog, the stalemate,” Mitch added quickly. “That’s fine by me, sir. I’ll see you then.”

Mitch exercised, showered, shaved and dressed in t-shirt and slacks, then sat on the end of his bed and waited to see a dog. He was just glad to have something to do.

The sedan drove him to an airport teeming with Canadian fighter jets, and continued to a back-lot hangar guarded by two Americans in Army uniforms toting machine guns.

Mitch’s eyes adjusted slowly from the bright sunshine to the dull glow of the interior’s fluorescent lighting, so he heard Mallory before he saw him.

“Hello, Mitch. How are you getting along living with the civilians?”

“Just fine, sir.”

The lieutenant’s hair had been tied back in a French braid, and he wore a flower-printed shirt that hung loosely over his ample belly; between the multicolored petals was a map of the Hawaiian Islands, each identified by name. He had socks and sandals on his wide feet.

“I’m off duty,” Mallory explained. “Come see my dog.”

Mitch couldn’t see any dog in the mostly empty hangar—only three uniformed men and a four-meter-long capsule. The shimmering, black fuselage of the capsule sported two-meter stubby wings that tapered into meter-long slim torpedoes running lengthwise. The clear Plexiglas hatch was open. At the aft end was a jet turbine. The bull-nosed stern had recessed headlamps. Inside was a leather seat and joystick. The control panel was loaded with gauges and had rows of LCD screens. Mitch realized this craft was Mallory’s “dog.”

“Go on, hop in. See how she feels,” Mallory said.

Mitch climbed over the short wing and settled into the cockpit seat, strapped on the harness, snapped and tightened the buckles. His legroom was limited by the array of electronics, but he was comfortable.

“She feels fucking good, sir!” Mitch moved the stick around and “vroomed” to himself.

Mallory smiled. “Try starting her up.”

“How do I do that?” Mitch fidgeted with toggle switches.

“With the key.”

Mitch found and turned the key; the instrument panel gleamed, then darkened. He heard the turbine whining behind him. Each gauge flashed green in a progressive pulsing across the dash, then the entire panel glowed blue. LCD screens lightened, some displayed numerical functions.

Mitch grinned. “All automatic?”

“You bet.”

Mitch switched off the key; the dash darkened and the turbine wound down.

“She’s a real beauty,” he said, climbing out of the cockpit.

Mallory closed the hatch, which hissed as it hermetically sealed.

“They were developed for deep sea exploration—code-named F.I.S.H., an acronym for Fully Interdependent Submersible Hetaera,” Mallory explained as they circled the dog.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.