Hydrax Gamble

Richard Martin

Description

Some may worry that a Hydrax Gamble could happen; some that it already has. When maverick investigator Arnie Krench teams up with Jessica Hahn, a reporter for the Seattle Chronicle, to discover the truth behind a mysterious plane crash, the trail leads to Europe and a sinister research lab run by the German and Japanese governments.Returning to America and discovering the U.S. is now covertly involved, they enter a race - not just to publish their findings, but to defend themselves against powerful forces that are out to protect the terrifying secret of the Hydrax Gamble.

Sujets

• Thriller
• Seattle
• Los Angeles
• Europe

Informations

• Publié par: Troubador Publishing Ltd
• Date de parution: 09 avril 2018
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781838597726
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

THE
HYDRAX
GAMBLE
Richard Martin
Copyright © 2018 Richard Martin

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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ISBN 978 1838597 726

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Acknowledgement
I would like to thank Robert Elsey for the copy-edit, Hanna Attwell for the proof-read, Jude Williams for character assessment and Johnathan Ward for plot assessment.

And to my many test readers, a special thanks for your invaluable comments.
Contents
Acknowledgement
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45

The Cygnus Agenda
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
CHAPTER 1
It was early morning when Brad Carlsson left Spruce Lake Marina, a few miles north of Seattle, the cabin cruiser hugging the coastline of the Puget Sound before crossing to Vancouver Island. Having spent a hot August night at Heron Bay he had changed his planned route and headed for the open sea at 7am, pointing the boat towards the horizon until the coast was out of sight. It was a move his business partner would be angry about but Brad was confident he could pull off the test-run without him.

It was a decision that would change his life.
As calculated, the range monitor showed 60 nautical miles, the position chosen to enable a rigorous trial of the company`s marine technology, state of the art equipment that was the back-bone of his business. His original intention had been to head back to Vancouver Island at around 6.00pm that evening and return to Spruce Lake the next day. It was now 7.00pm and Brad was still preoccupied with the company equipment, though it was not by choice.
The first test-run had been successful and the satellite link-up was in full flow, everything functioning perfectly; until now.
On checking his range he had discovered the location read-out was showing 90 nautical miles, the default indicator inexplicably at zero. Now the satellite programs were displaying a series of scrambled data with two of the sub-screens blank. What he was witnessing not only compromised the integrity of the entire system but pointed to a meltdown.
Looking at his Alpha monitor he saw that the satellite link was now in a state of total disarray.
Rapidly punching in a variety of instructions he battled to regain control, stop the destructive infiltration, but soon gave up as he stared in disbelief.
That`s when he heard it, a deep, droning noise that was increasing in volume and coming from overhead.
His reaction was swift as he spun round and raced to the cabin door. Leaping the four steps onto the wooden deck he snagged the base of the steel railing with his right foot and almost lost his balance. Straightening, he looked up and caught sight of a small executive jet, flying unusually low and only a short distance from the boat. Watching it continue west towards the setting sun, a silvery glint due north of the boat`s position caught his eye, but raising his hand against the direct sunlight he could see nothing definite.
About to head for the cabin he stopped as another glint had him staring back at the horizon. He picked up his powerful whaling binoculars and concentrated on a small object he could now make out in the distance. “A passenger jet,” he said, losing interest and placing the binoculars on the deck table.
Turning away he hesitated as something prompted him to have another look. Re-focussing the binoculars he scanned the skyline and found the passenger jet which was now rising on a steep trajectory, it`s vapour trail leaving a corkscrew pattern.
As the jet steepened its climb and seemed to be turning, it finally levelled off, easing Brad`s sense of alarm. But it didn`t last as the plane`s nose-cone suddenly dipped then pointed straight down. Within seconds it was in a steep dive, it`s wings appearing to fold into the fuselage as the jet plunged towards the ocean. The speed with which it hurtled down had now given it the profile of a missile, an image hiding the reality of passengers facing the horrifying knowledge they were going to die.
A sickening sensation gripped the pit of his stomach as the plane hit the surface of the water, the binoculars providing enough definition to bring the full horror to his disbelieving eyes.
Due to the distance the splashdown looked insignificant, no noise had come from the impact and the ocean`s tranquillity gave the scene an unreal dimension.
With his hands shaking, the lenses juddered to the right, picking up a faint outline of the executive jet that had passed over and which was now circling the scene.
Dropping the binoculars onto the deck table, Brad slowly climbed the upper cabin steps, stopped and stared back at the calm waters of the Pacific, his mind in a state of disbelief. For a moment he contemplated heading for the site, but he instantly dismissed it, knowing that nobody could have survived and that the crash site was many miles away.
On entering the control cabin he remembered the chaotic state of the satellite equipment and approached the row of monitors with some dread. Three had returned to displaying the clearly defined data they should, but his eye was drawn to the satellite feed which had been functioning in a state of bizarre confusion. He stared at the two blank screens.
The fifth monitor, priority linked to the satellite and harnessed to a file of complex algorithms was displaying a series of web-like waves pulsating across the screen. Now he knew there was no choice. Sweeping back his hair and wiping the sweat from his brow he reached over and switched off the satellite engagement.
The scrambled data cleared the screen, but staring back at him was something he hadn`t expected, a code signature, and there shouldn`t be one. As he tried to figure out the implications he realised only one explanation made sense: a second satellite and that meant big trouble. But the characters were from no matrix he had ever come across and the significance was alarming.
Turning to check the other screens he was faced with a second shock.
“Jesus Christ, I`ve screwed up on the streaming profile and accessed another satellite, that can`t be, makes no goddamned sense.”
Staring at the row of monitors he hovered in indecision, finally thrusting his right hand towards the master switch, hitting it hard and shutting down the entire system.
With head bowed he struggled with his emotions as he tried to make sense of the nightmare scenario, discover his mistake and more importantly, assess the consequences. The system corruption was a serious affair, the ramifications huge, but one thought was overpowering: the significance of that second satellite he had accessed.
An even bigger blow was about to hit; a realisation that the meltdown of his satellite link could in some way be related to the crashing plane. It made no sense but it was a possibility, one that prompted a decision that came fast. “I`ve got to get the hell out of here.”
It was approaching 8pm when Brad headed the cabin cruiser back to the coast, the horizon beginning to darken, the waters now a deep gray. He knew it would be a journey of constant vigilance, the boat`s default navigation equipment now suspect. The disastrous state of his high-tech system was of great concern, a threat to his future and now a top priority. But above these concerns came the second satellite and the fear of what he might have done.

Several hours later, mooring alongside the moonlit quay at Heron Bay on Vancouver Island, he found some release from the tension but no respite from the turmoil in his mind. He knew he should report his witnessing of the plane crash, the right thing to do. “But that executive jet will bear sufficient witness,” he told himself as he dropped onto the narrow bed under a row of starboard port-holes. He knew that sleep would not come, the worry of what lay ah