Farlight by Michael Swanson

Author:Michael Swanson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Farlight Press
Published: 2022-05-27T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Redonda

Lieutenant Anson Factor, an Annapolis graduate, class of 2003, and ten sweat soaked sailors armed with automatic weapons, stood in a half circle around the bizarre, metallically furry canister, which resembled a small water tank as much as it might a piece of stolen NASA space equipment. They had set shore on the scrubby, ugly, little island a half hour ago, after sighting the anchored catamaran in the secluded cove.

“What is that thing?” Ensign Lantay, pointed at the Lander with the barrel of his machine gun.

“Just don’t go near it,” ordered the young Lieutenant.

He skirted around the device, keeping a suspicious eye on it as he came around. Immediately he noticed the taunt 3/8 inch aircraft grade cable that stretched out from under the bottom of the strange device, disappearing into a hollow of rubble at the bottom of a hole dug out in the limestone and coral. Something else strange immediately drew his attention. There was something sticking up slightly from the crumbly rock. Most everything on the island was white, gray, or brown. Whatever this was, it was a bright yellow color and didn’t look like anything natural.

The young Lieutenant stepped down into the cavity; his boots crunching loudly with each step, and instinctively moved quickly when he realized what it was. He plucked the tiny gold ingot from the dust, holding it between his thumb and forefinger. A gold bar was probably the last thing he had ever thought he would find out here on this wayward little island.

“Mason! Briggs!” He called out.

Two of the sailors, one thin and rangy, and the other, short, with thick arms and his sleeves rolled up, came suspiciously around the Lander.

“Whatever we’re after is down in this hole. It’ll be dark in a couple hours. Go back to the ship and get whatever you can find to dig with. And have a party board the catamaran and make a thorough search.”

They didn’t say anything, just turned to their tasks. The crunch of their boots on the rock followed them as they left to carry out the orders.

The Lieutenant turned back to the hole and touched the cable gingerly, plucking it like a guitar string. He grabbed it with his right hand and pulled. Grudgingly the cable slid out slightly. He pocketed the gold ingot and put down his gun. He grabbed the cable with both hands, and leaning back to use his body weight, he began drawing the cable out of the jumble of rock and sand. He had gone back around thirty feet when the cable came to a stop.

“Garcia, Steen, Robbins, come here and give me a hand!” he ordered.

The three separated themselves from the others, who were nervously scanning the brush, weapons ready to fire. Two came around the Lander on the same side as the Lieutenant. Garcia, a Hispanic with a tightly cropped goatee, came around on the other side.

“Lieutenant!” he cried out. “There’s some gear over here!”

The Lieutenant let go of the cable and came around to the side where Garcia was waiting.

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