Ivan kept his back against the kitchen door for a while, after he sensed there was no one in the house but him.
He did more than recover the essence of who he had been over there. His mind took him beyond his life in Southeast Asia to when he was nine-years-old.
The man who built the house he lived in, his grandfather, took Ivan into the hallway behind the kitchen. It's where the walk-in freezer was, but there was more in the hallway than the freezer and Ivan had no idea it was there until his Pop Pop showed him.
His grandfather lifted a much shorter Ivan up to show him a piece of woodwork that opened if you put your hand on it just right. Inside the woodwork was a lever. His grandfather had him work that lever three times to be sure he knew how it worked.
When he put Ivan down, he slid a wooden panel to one side. When he turned on the light, there was a space three feet wide between the back wall of the kitchen and where the front wall of the freezer was. Ivan didn't understand why his Pop Pop was showing him the secret hiding place.
He was closer to his grandfather than anyone else in his family. His mother and father favored Boris, his older brother. Every summer, when school let out, Ivan went to stay with his Lithuanian grandfather, a fisherman on the Gulf of Mexico, because he was the most important person to his grandfather.
His grandfather told him about the old country, the Russians who held Lithuania captive, and how he escaped with his family to America right under the noses of the KGB. It's how Ivan learned to speak Lithuanian and some Russian. His grandfather would speak to him in those languages and he understood better than he spoke the languages from Pop Pop's youth. Pop Pop wanted him to hear them.
“Everyone in Lithuania has a secret place. There are things that are none of the government's business. What they didn't want the communists to know about, you kept where they couldn't see it. It wasn't just smart. It could keep you out of the gulag.”
“We live in America, Pop Pop. Why do you need that here?”
“Governments are made up of men who believe they should tell you what to do. There are somethings that might get you into trouble if they knew about them. So you keep them in your secret place. No man has the right to tell an honest working man what he should and should not have. You pay little attention to men who try.”
His grandfather reached in a drawer over his head and removed an ancient Russian revolver.
“This is one of those things,” he said.
His grandfather's newest and best fishing equipment lined the walls. There were rods, reels, and items Ivan couldn't identify. This was like a safe with no lock on it to tell you it was a safe.
Ivan's grandfather died later that summer. Then Ivan understood why he was shown the house's secret. He couldn't reach the lever without a stool or chair to boost him up, but he had no need of a secret place. He was a little boy and he almost forgot about it, until he came back from a long employment with an arm of his government. He understood more about governments by then..
His grandfather left Ivan the house. He left his son, Nick, the fishing boat. Nick was a fisherman but he was working in a factory in Tampa where his family lived. Nick went back to fishing once he had the boat. He would hold the house for Ivan until he was an adult and would legally own it.
After locking the back door and pulling down the shade, Ivan went to the hallway behind the kitchen. He reached for the lever to release the panel he moved to one side. He switched on the light and stepped into the space.
Reaching for a drawer on the left that was well over Ivan's head, he took the pistol out and put it on the waist high counter in front of him. From another high drawer he took out the clip for the gun. In yet another drawer was a box of 9mm cartridges he set beside the other items. He kept the pieces of the pistol separate from the cartridges. It was one more level of precaution.
He brought the pistol back with him from Southeast Asia. It was given to him after the Khmer Rouge came to power in Cambodia. It had become the most dangerous place in the world and it was a little like the wild west and a place Ivan went into to listen.
Ivan had been summoned by the station chief, Mr. Webb. He'd been given the 9mm pistol and two weeks of intense training. Then he went back to what he was doing. If things went south he was capable of defending himself during the course of a day's work. Things didn't go south but he was now armed with a 9mm pistol and he knew how to use it.
Standing in the narrow space he began feeding the cartridges into the clip. Once the clip was full he put the box of ammo back in the drawer. He closed the drawers. He shoved the clip into the pistol, weighing the gun in his hand. The full clip added a substantial weight to the piece. It felt familiar.
He put the pistol in his belt, snugging it against his spine. The grip would hold the gun in place, keeping it from sliding down into his pants. Ivan pulled his shirt out, making sure it hung free. He reached for the gun with his right hand banging his elbow against the wall divider in what was a confining space. There was enough room for a grown man to turn around but no more.
He stepped out of the compartment and put the panel back in place. Once he stood in the hallway he went for the pistol with his right hand. He made the same move with his left hand. It was oddly familiar. For his first few years over there, he was never armed. There were always men monitoring him. If anything felt wrong to them, they took Ivan out. He was a listener not a combatant.
With the Khmer Rouge in charge, the number of men available to keep an eye on Ivan was greatly reduced. With too much chance of them being taken into custody they couldn't afford to take the risk inherent in being a Company man. Ivan was mostly on his own and a gun was the Company's answer to the Khmer Rouge.
His training with the gun included being able to shoot accurately with either hand and he was given a nifty rig that put the gun between his shoulder blades where he could reach it with either hand.
They spent time training Ivan to go for the gun with either hand. The kind of move that gave you a split second advantage over someone who went for his gun with the hand he always used.
The drawback with the nifty rig between your shoulder blades, you had to wear a jacket to cover it. Wearing a jacket on days that were consistently in the mid 90s would bring attention to him. Mason would know what the jacket was hiding. He had a nifty rig too.
”Hurrying to beat you to the draw, your adversaries aim will be off. The shot will miss. By that time you'll have your pistol aimed. You won't miss, because you took your time. Being fast isn't the same as rushing. Being fast means you're good. Being good means you don't miss. Ivan was good because he didn't lose his cool.
He'd forgotten how the game was played. Mason caught him by surprise. Seeing the man he knew from so far away unnerved Ivan. He lost his cool. He'd gotten it back now. The rules hadn't changed. They were the same in the cove as they were in Southeast Asia.
He'd done his best to forget being over there. He thought he was through with that world. He didn't forget what it was like over there. He'd put it away in his secret place. He remembered who he'd been.
Ivan was Lithuanian and Irish. Over there he was a chameleon, because he was cool. People saw what they believed they were seeing. Ivan played along. He was an independent operator. He'd listen to any offer. If you wanted to drink, Ivan could drink and he was always listening to other men talking in the places he was sent.
He was called the Chameleon by his handlers. He never looked out of place no matter where he was sent. No matter where he was sent, he came back with useful information for the Company.
He did what he signed a contract to do. He still wasn't sure what would have happened to him if he hadn't signed the contract, but it wouldn't have been pleasant.
He didn't look out of place in Southeast Asia. He never liked being forced to work for the Company. He did it to keep himself out of a federal prison or worse. He didn't mind the work he did. He didn't mind being a fly on the wall in the crossroads where many men came together on their way to some other place. They each had a story to tell, and Ivan was a good listener.
Mason was a trained Company man. He knew everything. Ivan knew what they wanted him to know. He wasn't a Company man. He was an asset, nothing more. To stay ahead of Mason, he needed to be ready for anything.
Mason made no attempt to stay out of sight. Ivan had been sloppy. He was so involved in running the trash as fast as possible, he wasn't ready for the game Mason was playing. He wanted Ivan to see him. Hearing him coming he stood where Ivan couldn't miss him.
It unnerved Ivan to see Mason so close. It's what Mason intended. Shake Ivan up. He'll over think the situation and he'll make a mistake. It's how Company men operated. He reacted exactly as Mason planned. Ivan wasn't in the game.
He was in the game now. Whatever Mason came for, he wanted Ivan to know he was there. If it had nothing to do with Ivan, Mason would have registered when Ivan was in the shop. He'd have said, “This has nothing to do with you.”
Mason knew everything about everything. Ivan knew what he was told he needed to know. He didn't ask questions because he was a listener. Listeners listen to people who like to talk. He knew the consequences if he fail to listen well.
Ivan didn't simply listen to the bad guys who liked to talk too much. He listened to the Company men. He listened to his handlers. He learned how Company men operated. Ivan was a high value asset because he was a very good listener.
Ivan was four years home and now he needed to arm himself. This would do for the time being. If he came face to face with Mason he wasn't sure both of them would walk away. Ne hoped trouble could be avoided.
Ivan was no longer scared. Seeing Mason did scare him. He had a lot to lose. He understood the game Mason was playing. If he was there to do him harm, it would have been done and Mason would be gone. He had some other purpose for being there.
Mason was playing mind games. The most important thing, Ivan needed to be prepared for anything. Now he was prepared.
What Mason hadn't considered when he let Ivan see him, he was on Ivan's turf now. Ivan knew every inch of ground around him. This gave Ivan a distinct advantage if push came to shove. By revealing his presence the element of surprise had been taken out of the equation. It allowed Ivan to think more clearly and to get ready. He was ready now.
If Mason had come for him, he was as prepared as he'd ever be.
Ivan thought back to his final day as an asset for The Company.
After a routine debriefing he was taken into the office of the Southeast Asia station chief, Mr. Webb. He was told to sit.
They were alone.
“The rules are simple enough, Mr. Aleksa. These rules are strictly adhered to for your safety and to assure the safety of those you love. One, you never worked for The Company. Number two, you know nothing about The Company's business. Number three, nothing you've seen or heard while in the employ of The Company is to be mentioned to anyone at anytime. Explain your absence any way you like. You are an industrious lad and you'll think up something convincing. Mr. Aleksa, Violate what I've told you at your own risk. Once you work for the Company you are bound by these rules,” the station chief said.
“Mr. Magnus will now take you to meet the Russian traders you've been told about. They will take you to Boris Aleksa. When you are ready to leave the village where your brother is living, you'll be instructed on how to be taken out and returned safely to the US.”
“Is that clear to you?”
“Yes, Sir,” Ivan said, liking the sound of it.
“Your employment with us has now officially ended,” the station chief said. “You are dismissed but remember this,” the man said coolly. “If we need you we know where to find you.”
Until Ivan left with the jolly Russian traders, he didn't know that someone wouldn't slip up behind him and put a bullet in his head. There were no limits on the power of these men. No one knew anything about what they did.
The station chief's final words chilled Ivan to the bone. He knew he'd just been threatened. The idea of another tour of involuntary servitude to the Company was a non starter. They'd need to kill him before he'd go back to Southeast Asia.
Ivan knew he wasn't going back. Mason didn't.
There was a card Ivan had yet to play. He needed to be ready for Mason before he played it.
Ivan was ready now.
He reached for the keys to Clay's Buick. He'd drive back and forth to the shop while Mason was there. He couldn't afford to be caught on the side of the lightly traveled road.
He could be hit and left for dead with no one seeing what happened.
*****
The deeper into the Pacific they sailed, the more concerned Captain Hertzog became. The problem with engine three had extended to engine four. Should he have turned back?
It was irrelevant now. Hawaii was as close as California.
Neither engine three or four fired during the last engine check. The on board engineers to see to it that all of Horizon's systems were operating properly, weren't sure why the engines failed to fire.
Horizon's engine room was as clean as an operating room. The preventive maintenance done between voyages was meant to eliminate the need for unexpected repairs being made during a research trip. They decided the problem was most likely electrical but they were not able to locate the cause.
Being baffled by the failure, the engineers called in Sidney Peacock. Not a move they made without trepidation.
Sidney Peacock scoffed at the idea an engine room should be free of the grease and grime that was supposed to coat everything including the mechanics. Mechanical things work better when coated with lubricants. You can't pamper mechanical devices. Calling your mechanics engineers didn't change any of that, Sidney reasoned.
After some hours of trying to find the problem in the electrical system, Sidney Peacock needed a break and he needed to go to the bridge to update Captain Hertzog about the problem.
“Yes, Sidney,” the captain said after he heard his mechanic clearing his throat behind him.
Sidney wiped his hands on the grease rag he kept handy.
“Klaus, what made you think that going on to Hawaii was a good move when you knew there was a major problem brewing?” Sidney asked. “And why wasn't I called in when engine three first failed?”
“It was my decision to make. Bill isn't a man who wants to turn back once we're underway. I agreed at the time. You weren't called in because you don't work well with others and I have engineers looking into the problem. You haven't got them tied up in the engine room, I trust?”
“No, Klaus, they're walking around in circles wringing their hands. They're about as useful as tits on a boar hog,” Sidney said.
“It's in your electrical system. It could be one of the harnesses or a loose wire somewhere in the miles of wires on your ship,” Sidney Peacock said. “Since we're now as close to Hawaii as we are to San Francisco, we may as well go on. Had you bothered to consult me before we'd proceeded this far, I'd have advised you to turn back before the problem migrates. Electrical malfunctions are a bitch to track down, Captain. This ship has miles of wiring to check. I broke away from checking to give you a report.”
“What can you do for me, Sidney. Can you isolate the difficulty? Can you keep it contained? I don't need to tell you that this years research trip might rely on what you can do for me right now.”
“I'll do my best, Klaus, but I'm a mechanic not a magician. I can give you no guarantees at this point.” Sidney said in his thick accent. “Thank you, Sidney. Keep me posted,” Captain Hertzog said, reaching for the intercom's microphone.
“Rolf, come to the bridge,” the captain said.
“Sidney.”
“Yes, Klaus,” Sidney Peacock said as he stepped into the passageway that would take him back to where he came from.
“There's a storm brewing. It's coming out of the southwest. We're in for a blow. It's been brewing for several hours.”
“You want me to do what?” Sidney Peacock asked.
“Just advising you there will be some rough seas ahead,” Captain Hertzog said.
“Shit!” Sidney Peacock said, going on his way.
Captain Hertzog didn't know what to think. He was on solid ground with his decision to proceed. He never imagined the problem could get worse. When he saw Sidney, he knew it had grown worse. The engineers hated Sidney Peacock. They'd only have called him out of desperation and that wasn't good.
In spite of not being consulted immediately, Sidney would do his best to solve the problem. He was not given to emotional displays. If anyone could track down and fix the problem, he could.
Since taking control of the Horizon they rarely had even minor disruptions during a voyage. There was no reason for him to think this problem wouldn't be solved in short order. He needed to inform Bill of what was going on. He was the final say in most situations. For all practical purposes, it was Bill's ship and he worked for Bill.
There wasn't a great deal of activity on a ship at sea and once you set sail the people on board the Horizon could find things to do in the laboratories or they could meet in the galley for coffee and conversation.
He would begin his search in the most likely place. If he wasn't in the galley, the captain would widen his search.
Bill was in the galley and facing the door. As soon as the captain stepped just inside the door, Bill excused himself to go see why his captain didn't come over.
He was there to give Bill his report. He didn't want to broadcast to everyone present that there was trouble. He'd tell Bill the situation and if Bill wanted to tell his group, that was up to him.
“Why so grim, Klaus?” Bill asked.
“I don't like this kind of report, Bill. Our decision to proceed on to Hawaii has come into question. I think we'll be all right but there is a complication that you need to know about. Actually, two complications”
“I see,” Bill said with concern.
Captain Hertzog explained the situation without alarming him. He wasn't alarmed and he was sure Sidney would do the job he was kept on board to do. They hadn't been able to tracked down the cause which meant it was still a problem.
“You've told me the two engines are adequate power and we still have two working engines?”
“Yes. We're using engines one and two which is what we're usually using at this stage in a voyage. With engine four failing to fire we are dealing with a systemic problem. I wanted to advise you of that change. We're almost as close to Hawaii as we are if we turned back to San Francisco. My advice is to go on to Hawaii. We'll need to address the problem there. My engineers will be able to run down the problem once we are there. We won't leave Honolulu until we have all four engines in good working condition.”
“I don't want to turn back, Klaus. Do you have any reason to anticipate we are dealing with a larger problem?”
“No. Having a second engine fail at this point is problematic, Bill. Sidney has mentioned that electrical problems tent to migrate when not taken care of immediately. Engines one and two are set up to run in tandem. They've been working fine. Engines three and four are set up to run in tandem. We don't have that as an option now. As long as one and two are running properly we are fine. Nothing to get excited about in my opinion.”
“The speech on the bridge about being unsinkable as well as unbreakable, you going back on that?” Bill asked.
“I was worried when I said it. Write it off to wishful thinking. Let's say, I don't like an electrical problem that has knocked out two engines. It's not supposed to happen. We have engineers to make sure it doesn't happen,” Captain Hertzog said. “It worries me is all.” “Worries you enough to come and worry me,” Bill said Thoughtfully. “Thanks, Klaus. Let me know if they solve the problem. The stop in Honolulu is a must at this point?”
“Yes. I'm afraid it can't be avoided. I am uncomfortable with the current situation. I want to leave Honolulu under full power,” Captain Hertzog said. “We don't want to be on location with less. We can run all four engines once we're back underway. We'll pick up a day that way. It will get us closer to our original schedule,”
“I'm not worried about the schedule, Klaus. I leave enough time to make up for any delays. As long as we are on site by early next week, we'll be fine. We have two extra days to play with,” Bill said.
“Yes, there is the second complication. There is a storm that has been developing. It appears we are going to cross its path at some point. It's now on radar to the southwest. It's traveling north by northeast. Not close enough to be able to accurately predict how big it might get or how severe. The weather station I'd contact for a proper forecast is off line for routine maintenance. I'm trying to raise Hawaii for a more complete forecast, but radio contact is limited.”
“You were keeping an eye on the barometer earlier,” Bill said. “You were seeing signs of the storm?”
“The barometer was falling. That usually indicates a weather system is developing. It was too far away to be able to predict what was going to happen, but now, I can safely say we're going to encounter the system later today.”
“I don't recall having a problem that threatened to derail a research trip. Now it seems we have two at the same time,” Bill said.
“The perfect storm, so to speak,” Captain Hertzog said.
“You aren't going to tell me we're running low on gas, are you?”
Bill asked with a touch of humor in his voice.
Captain Hertzog laughed.
“As the captain of the Titanic said when the water was up around his ankles. “We're unsinkable. We'll be fine.”
It was Bill's turn to laugh.
“Plenty of fuel, Bill. We'll be fine.”
“Gallows humor, Klaus. Not like you. Not like you at all. Keep me posted. I need to get back to the table before our guests become suspicious,” Bill said.
Bill wasn't as good an actor as Captain Hertzog. Both Logan and Clay noticed the change after he spoke to the captain.
“Something wrong, Bill?” Clay asked.
“Same difficulty as before. It's not only in engine three. It has spread to engine four,” Bill explained. “Nothing to worry about. One and two are working fine. We'll need to stop in Honolulu and fix the problem there. Once we have four engines we'll make up most of the time we lose. Might be a day later getting on site.”
“I don't suppose there are any of those really long oars that the slaves used to propel those old ships?” Logan asked.
“I'll have to ask. Since we don't have any slaves on board I doubt it,” Bill said.
Clay shook his head. Logan had an unusual sense of humor. It seemed to be getting stranger.
“They have no idea what's causing it, Bill?” Clay asked.
“The electrical problem is concerning and there is a storm brewing to our south. Too early to predict its path. We'll be fine,” Bill said. “Good food, good company, and a good ship under us. Who could ask for more?”
“Yo ho ho and a bottle of run,” Logan sang. “I think I'll go out and see what I can see.”
Logan put his lunch plate on the counter between the tables and the kitchen and went out.
“Strange young man,” Clay said. “What aren't you saying, Bill?”
“I'm no good at subterfuge, Clay. It's the question I wanted to ask, Klaus. He's not telling me everything. Just looking at the man says he's worried about something.”
“Maybe he's worried about everything. First engine three won't fire and now it has spread. There's a storm building. If I were in the Gulf on the Sea Lab, I'd be turning around and heading for the cove. We're going on four days out. No point in turning around now. We may as well go on to Hawaii and solve the problem there.”
“Klaus has drawn the same conclusion but I don't think he likes it,” Bill said. “We'll probably be fine,” Bill said, remembering Klaus' gallows humor when he said it.
“Probably,” Clay said. “Not much we can do about it.”
“How did you know there was a storm building?” Bill asked.
“I can read a barometer, Bill. The captain kept going back to look at the barometer. It was falling quite a bit while we sat on the bridge. Some kind of system was building nearby,” Clay said. “As long as we have two working engines there's nothing to worry about.”
And yet, both men were worried.