text: Arthur  Limbada Lost At Sea The Bermuda Triangle Mystery 
   
   
   1. Disappearances  
   The last few threads of sunlight curled its way back towards the horizon as the sun disappeared in the distance. Joseph Farrow switched on the lights and quickly finished his safety check on The Fair Lady, his small fishing boat. Once he had completed them, he made his way downstairs and collapsed on his cot. 
      Today had been tough. Well, recently, everyday had been tough. His fishing business had slowed a considerable amount over the past few years. The competition in the fishing business seemed to have picked up even. Either that or the fish had decided to go on an early vacation. 
     His large amount of doctor’s bills was actually the main reason he was out here tonight, sleeping in his boat. A couple of years ago he would have had enough money to hire some lads to help him out, but with his many doctor visits and long list of prescribed medication, he simply didn’t have the money anymore. 
     Merely thinking about his immense hospital bills made his frail bones ache. 
      As Joseph was musing on his cot, a beep sounded from the intercom. It came from the radar monitor, which signified that a ship had entered its radius. Joseph knew he should get up and check the radar screen but at the moment, he felt like all the energy in his body had fled from him. While he was working up the force to get up, another two beeps sounded in quick succession after the first one. With his curiosity roused, Joseph slowly pushed himself up from his bed and stood up. 
       As soon as he did this, he knew he shouldn’t have. An immense wave of dizziness washed over him. He let out a gasp and slumped back onto the bed, his head throbbing. He sat still, trying to regain his strength. Once the dizziness had remotely faded, he tried getting up more slowly this time. He managed to do so without too much trouble and slowly dragged himself out of his cabin into the starry night. 
       He stepped out of the cabin into the dark. Joseph switched on his flashlight and reached out his arm to direct him to the staircase leading to the boats deck. His hot hand grasped the cold steel of the railing as he walked up onto the deck. He felt like he needed to take more medicine, his pulse was rapid and he was panting from exertion. However, the doctor specifically said that he should only take one every three hours, and he had taken his pills with his supper two hours ago. 
     Joseph looked from the edge of the boat into the sea but he couldn’t spot anything in the blackness. A heavy mist snaked its way around him and his boat. The pale glow of the light from his flashlight cast an eerie glow around the Fair Lady.  
      He warily walked over to the bridge only to realize he had forgotten the keys in his cabin. Laboriously, he headed back to his cabin, the cold wind gnawing at him. Once he had collected the keys and made his way back, he opened the door to the bridge. 
      He walked into the dark room, stumbling over different objects, obscured by the dark, as he made his way to where he knew he would find the desk lamp.  Once he found it, he switched it on and stumbled painstakingly to the radar monitor. 
     What he saw surprised him immensely. The three vessels that should have been on the screen had vanished! 
     
   * * * * * 
       Andrew Gray gulped down the last of his coffee. It was like he always had it: milk and two sugars. Andrew worked for I.D.I. (International Department of Investigation) as a detective, and at the moment, he had a lot of free time on his hands. Although some of you might find that bizarre, picturing detectives constantly caught up in exciting cases, Andrew just didn’t have anything to work on now. Sure, he had several adventurous and daring cases previously, but for the past few weeks his assistance hadn’t been required. 
       Andrew Gray originally got hired by I.D.I. for his advanced knowledge in computer technology. He started off running simple forensic programs. Since then he has advanced in status considerably. He’s managed to help solve several hacker cases, run complex forensics programs, and finally, proved himself as a formidable field worker. After eight months of working for I.D.I. he was already assisting the best at the crime scenes.   
       But as I mentioned before, despite his immaculate case record, and high level of expertise, Andrew was bored. 
      Suddenly, a beep from his desktop computer’s speakers alerted him that he had just received a new e-mail. Clicking into his inbox, he opened the new message, its subject screaming    “URGENT!” 
      Skimming over the e-mail, this is what he read. 
     
       Andrew Gray 
        A situation has cropped up and we will need your presence in the briefing room ASAP! 
                                                I.D.I. Executive. 
     
     Andrew smiled and exited the e-mail. 
     
     “Nice and concise”, he thought, “Couldn’t be bothered to give anything away.” 
     
         He tossed the empty Styrofoam cup into the waste basket standing near the door before exiting the office and locking behind himself. Once he stepped into the corridor, he suddenly felt excited. He told himself it probably was because he had drunk too much coffee this morning. He had heard it could do these things to you, yet he knew that wasn’t why. 
     You didn’t need experience as a detective to tell that that letter pointed to a new case. About what he wasn’t sure, but he’d willingly welcome anything that wasn’t sitting on his butt. He walked on with strong, purposeful strides. An exciting mission was exactly the perfect shock treatment to wake him from his laid back mindset of the past weeks.    
       The next second Andrew felt himself colliding into something else. He quickly reached out to try to break his fall, his hands connecting with the cold, hard tiles. Unhurt, he looked up to see what or who he had bumped into. 
     To his surprise, Terrance Ridly was also on the floor, his dirty blond hair in an untidy mess. The flow of human traffic side stepped the two fallen men as they scrambled to pick themselves up. 
     Terrance was on his feet first and offered Andrew a hand up. 
       “Funny bumping into you here,” Terrance quipped. 
     “Ha-ha,” Andrew laughed, “quite literally. But speak of the devil; I was practically thinking of you the exact moment you carelessly smashed into me!” 
      “I think we both know who did the smashing old friend,” Terrance retaliated as he stepped back to allow room for people to walk by. “Don’t tell me you were thinking about my beautiful cheek bones please.” 
      “Ha-Ha,” Andrew mock laughed, “You’re so funny. No just I got this e-mail about a minute ago and . . . . Let’s walk while we talk? We’re kind of standing in the way here.” 
         “That’s the smartest idea I’ve ever heard from you Andrew! I’m extremely impressed. Oh and, remember, eyes are for looking.” 
      “Yeah yeah,” Andrew said as they started walking.” Anyways, I’ve been requested to the briefing room, which I am hoping is for a case. And it kind of got me thinking back on our old operations.” 
        “What!? Seriously? I’m on my way to briefing too.” 
    “Are you just kidding or are you actually heading there?” 
         “I’m actually going there man! Maybe we’re going to be working on something together. I won’t be able to call you rookie anymore though. That’s gonna be a bummer.” 
         “It’d be great to work with you again! You have no idea how much of a drag it was working on my last case. My partner was a total crank, constantly got on my nerves.” 
        “Right, I know exactly how that’s like! But you and I, we’re a match made in detective heaven Andrew. I’ve been hearing about your exploits buddy, making quite a name for yourself I see?” 
       “You have? Well, not intentionally,” Andrew answered as they stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for Floor 10. 
       “Haha, sure my modest friend,” Terrance chuckled as he smoothed his hair to the right. “I know you Andy, you’re probably planning to like, buy the whole of I.D.I. someday. Not intentionally my ass!” 
        “Do I sense some jealousy?” 
      The silver elevator doors slid open silently. Andrew and Terrance both stopped their talking as memories flooded their mind of the last times they had been in here. A receptionist sat behind a desk on the right end of the room. There were three wooden doors leading from the reception area. The girl looked up from her desk as the two men stepped out of the elevator. She smiled as they walked closer. 
       “Hello gentlemen, you’re here for the briefing, is that correct?” 
      “Yes, umm, I’m Andrew Gray and this is Terrance Ridly, we were requested to come to the briefing room.” 
       “Yes you two are awaited, it’s in that room,” she said as she pointed to the door on the left side of the rectangular room. “And may I say, we’re very happy to have you back Mr. Ridly.” 
       “I’m quite glad to be back darling,” he said with a wink. 
   “Yes Andrew,” Terrance said as they walked away, “extremely jealous.” 
   
   
   
   2. Happenings  
         Andrew knocked on the wooden door. 
        Almost instantly it swung open, revealing an older looking lady. Her chestnut coloured hair was tied in a tight bun. If Andrew were to describe her age, he would say approximately in the late thirty’s.   
      She was tall without the need for high heels and her whole body seemed to radiate authority and power. The lady nodded her head at the two men, indicating that they should enter. Terrance stepped in with Andrew tagging behind him. 
      The room they had walked into was a fairly large, circular shaped room. It had a lush red carpet, white, spotless walls, and black leather couches. They were positioned in a circular formation with a matching black round coffee table in the centre. 
      Besides the lady who let the two men in, there were four other people in the room. There were two males and two females each positioned on the black leather couches. 
          A click was heard behind the Andrew and Terrance as the lady shut the door. The he walked up to the two men and shook their hands. 
      “Thank you very much for coming at such short notice,” she said as she shook both of their hands, “as you will see, you’ve been requested for a matter of great importance. Please sit down and then I will tell you all why you have been called here.”     
       Andrew and Terrance sat down next to each other and glanced around at the other people. 
     “Rookies,” Terrance whispered into Andrew’s ear as they noticed the anxious expressions on the faces of everyone else. 
      Andrew smiled as he remembered his early days at the department and the first time he had been called to this room. He had the same expression as the rest of the new people here. He nodded at the other occupants of the room and then looked up at the woman. 
       “Alright, I have called each of you here because, as you could probably have guessed already, you’re all going to be working together on the same mission.” 
    “I presume all of you are aware of the Loco disease, correct?”     
      Since everyone did, she continued. “However, I doubt any of you here know that there is a known cure for it, am I correct?” 
        The half dozen humans in the room nodded their assent. 
     “That is because you weren’t supposed to know, not yet at least. Very few people in the world know about this. That is why you can’t let anyone else know what I am about to share with you in this room.” 
      “The United States government had been secretly negotiating with the government of Egypt over the past month for the purchase of a very important mineral which has been found to be situated in parts of Egypt. There is only a very small quantity of this mineral available, and because of that, it is extremely valuable. As far as we know, Egypt is the only known country to have this mineral.”   
     “According to a few American scientists who have obtained a small portion of this precious mineral, it can be used with some other elements to form a cure for the Loco disease. This is why the United States government have been trying their hardest to buy more from Egypt. “ 
      “You should all be aware about the basic aspects of this disease, but for those who don’t, I’ll explain the basics. I’m not going to go into a large lecture but I will try and describe it as simply and concisely as possible.” 
      “Loco disease is an extremely dangerous and highly contagious viral disease.” 
       “As far as we know, it originated in Mexico, but since then it has spread throughout the entire world. It has killed hundreds and hundreds of people already. From the doctor’s reports, the disease seems to happen in three different stages. 
     “For the first step, you catch the virus. For about a week after that being infected you don’t realize that you have it, since no symptoms are visible or present.” 
     “In the second stage, you get an extremely high fever, drastic hot and cold flushes, and cases of delirium. This is said to go on for about a week until finally, the third stage starts.” 
     “This stage lasts much shorter than the other two; usually only two to three days maximum. What happens during this period however is horrendous. It is not clear about what causes this, but the carriers of the disease go insane after two weeks of having it. In fact, the Loco disease is similar to Rabies in that aspect, except it is much more severe.” 
     “Up until now, approximately 570 people have died in relation to that disease, and the number keeps on rising”.     
      “So, back to what I was saying before I got sidetracked. Two weeks ago, on the first of this month, the United States government purchased a small quantity of this mineral, which is called Azite. It was roughly five percent of the entire amount of that mineral known in the world. The American freighter designed to transport it left from Said, an Egyptian port city, on the sixth. That was exactly nine days ago. This transport ship with the precious mineral Azite departed from Egypt, accompanied by two U.S. Navy Destroyers.” 
     “Now, I think that it is important for me to emphasize the effort the U.S. government put into the security of this ocean voyage so as to make sure it was free of trouble of any form. 
      Firstly, Egypt and the United States were the only two countries aware of this transaction. Only a very few, and select amount of people from the two countries was informed about it. 
     Whichever country creates and sells the medicine that can cure the Loco disease will make a large profit and the USA knew this. That’s why they put as much caution into this ocean voyage as possible, afraid some other country would try and steal it. 
        “The two battle ships travelling with the freighter were the most advanced Destroyers the United States army possessed. For the people who are not informed on specification of these ships, Destroyers are light, fast, and hard-hitting ships, used for multitudes of different functions. They are used as protection against all forms of adversaries since they are equipped with anti-air, anti-surface, and anti-submarine warfare capabilities. If anyone were to find out about this voyage and try to interfere with it, which was highly unlikely, they would have a large problem to deal with.” 
     “It seemed like their plan was flawless.” 
     “They kept the two destroyer ships in constant contact with people situated in USA and Egypt just in case anything went wrong. I have some of the transcript with me that I’d like to read to you. It’s a dialogue of the radio dialogue from one of the Destroyer’s second lieutenant”. 
        She walked over from where she was standing between the semi circle couches towards the black coffee table. Once she was there, she picked up a black rectangular folder and pulled out a sheaf of papers from it. Putting on her glasses, she began to read. 
     
   * * * * * 
     
      William Tucker, 2014, June 6th, 09:30 a.m.: We have just met up with the carrier ship, coming from the port in Said; they have the cargo with them. We have received clearance to sail our destroyers inside the Mediterranean Sea. So far we are making swift progress, and should have travelled 390 miles by the time it is 10:00 p.m. 
     
      William Tucker, 2014, June 7th, 07:00 p.m.: The day has gone by uneventfully, we are now 36 37 North, 13 15East. 
      
      William Tucker, 2014, June 8th, 08:00 a.m.: Time has passed without incident. 
     
      William Tucker, 2014, June 14th, 10:00 p.m.: We are quite close to our destination; I would say we should get to Miami by the 16th latest. We are now 25 33 North, 69 39 West. 
     
     William Tucker, 2014, June 14th, 10:15 p.m.: For the first time in our voyage a small sea vessel has sailed into our radius; on further conference, the captain says it is to be ignored. (I am guessing it is most likely a fishing boat….) 
     It has suddenly seemed to become extremely misty, and the visibility is dangerously low. I went for a walk about on deck and strangely enough I can hardly see anything further then five feet in front of me. Now the lamps are giving off an eerie glow. I am feeling slightly dizzy, and I have talked to a few members of the crew and they are feeling the same peculiarities. 
   
      (Perhaps there is some kind of machine on the small vessel creating the fog?... Drugs in the fog?.. Trying to think logically) 
   
     
      William Tucker, 2014, June 14th, 10:27 p.m.: I am suddenly seeing strange flashing colours around the ship. The only object on our radar is the same small vessel we saw before. I have tried getting in contact with it but whoever is on it is not responding. We have orders to ignore everything and go as fast as we can. We are however set on high alert for any form of intrusion. I am having an eerie feeling though and after having talked more with some of the men, I find I am not alone with these feelings. 
   * * * * * 
     
       The lady closed the leaflet of paper and put it back into the folder, which she then set back on the table. A moment of silence reined over the room, everybody contemplating what had just been read to them. The lady looked around the room quickly and then set the papers back into her folder before standing straight up again. 
      “Before I say what I’m about to, you must know I am a very reasonable human. I am not one for believing myths or legends. However, the spot that all the trouble happened to the transport ship and destroyers was over the feared “Bermuda Triangle” also known as “The Devils Triangle.” 
      There are a large amount of ridiculous hypothesis about this area and why ships seem to disappear when they sail over it. I personally do not believe that hogwash but I cannot dismiss that there is something very unusual about this vicinity. 
      The final paragraph I read by William Tucker was the last that was heard from any of the three ships and the precious metal Azite that was on it. We still can’t be sure what happened to that ship but we are busy getting satellite images of that area as we speak. 
      Another thing I must tell is that this was not the only disappearance to happen over the Bermuda Triangle. A week ago, a large cruise ship vanished as well while crossing it. This was the first time in about a hundred years that a vessel of any form had went missing while sailing over this area. 
       There’s a large possibility that whatever happened to the cruiser happened also to the transporter and destroyers. 
        Alright, that is the basis of what this mission is about. On the coffee table there are files for each of you to read over as soon as I am finished speaking. A very very important and rare mineral is missing and it’s your duty to find out what happened to it and retrieve it if that is possible. You have been paired into two groups.   
      “Terrance and Andrew,” she started, turning towards the two men and looked at them. Terrance grinned and shook hands with his friend sitting beside him. “Are the senior detectives here,” she continued, “and will be working separately.”   
       “Oh damn!” Terrance joked and pushed Andrew away. Andrew felt a bit disappointed they wouldn’t be working together on this case but he shrugged it off. 
      “Terrance,” the lady resumed speaking, “you will be working with Chevan Goy and Tyron Fernly.” 
      She indicated two of the still unknown people sitting in the room, obvious excitement showing on their faces. 
      Tyron was sitting on the edge of his seat with his hands on his laps, tightened into fists. He had long black hair that was tied in a pony tail at the back. He was wearing a black formal shirt but it looked like he had forgotten to button all of the buttons. His large black boots stuck out of his baggy black pants. 
      “Was he in mourning?” Terrance wondered, “Or was black his usual dress code.” This “Tyron” reminded Terrance of a biker, probably a rash, aggressive young man. He’d have to keep an eye on this one.    
      Chevan sat properly, legs crossed, back straight. Rich and sophisticated, was what came to mind. She had blonde hair reaching slightly past her shoulders, cut in the latest fashion probably. She obviously cared a lot about self image. Terrance her perfectly manicured fingernails fidgeting as she sat with her hands in her lap. 
      “I wondered why she chose this line of business,” Terrance thought to himself. 
      Then the lady faced the remaining two detectives in the room that hadn’t been named and motioned to them.     
     “Andrew, you will team up with Gene Fay, and Gerald Hudson.”   
         Andrew glanced at the man and woman sitting beside each other on the plush leather couch, trying to determine how it would be like working with his two new companions. It would be different working as a senior in the group since he was always used to being the guy who gets told what to do. 
      From their appearances, Andrew guessed they were in their early twenties, not much younger then he was. They both had that nervous, excited look on their face, no matter how badly they were trying to hide it. 
       Gerald Hudson looked like someone Andrew knew from college. The label “nerd” came instantly to mind. He had short brown hair, neatly brushed to the side. His excited green eyes darted across the room from behind his rectangular shaped glasses. Unlike Terrance’s new male partner Tryon, Gerald shirt was perfectly ironed and buttoned, tucked neatly into his blue jeans. He was holding a small note pad in his hand as he jotted down notes while the lady spoke. 
      “Ambitious, intelligent, probably arrogant,” were the thoughts that ran through Andrews head about his new partner. 
      His gaze quickly switched to Gene. Of the four inexperienced detectives, she looked the most composed. An expensive looking necklace hung around her neck. Andrew guessed that it had some form of sentimental value. Maybe it was passed down from her mother. It was the only piece of jewellery visible on her.  She had an interested look in her large green eyes as she looked up at the lady, her short black hair falling over her face. 
      He really couldn’t pick up much of her character from her appearance, though the way she occasionally pushed her bang to the side and tapped her fingers on her leg alluded to her nervousness. 
       Gerald raised his hand in their direction, acknowledging them, and then looked up at the woman as she continued talking. 
       “I hope every single one of you here realize the graveness and importance of this mission. Due to the minuteness of this mineral, Azite, every little bit is extremely important. I know some of you here are still fairly inexperienced but we are all depending on your very best, am I understood?” 
      Everyone gave there assent. 
      “Great. Before you go, I want to give you all my best wishes in this mission, and would like to stress the importance of it. The whole world is counting on you.” 
       “I think we’re done here. There is a folder on the table for each of you, take if before leaving. Thank you very much.” 
    Tyron raised his hand quickly before the lady could turn around. “Sorry, I just have something to ask.” 
       “Go on.” 
     “What about that boat or whatever that was seen on the radar of the Destroyer, do we know anything about it yet?” 
      “As I said,” the lady replied, “everything is written down in those folders. But since you’ve brought it up I might as well tell you. The vessel that was spotted on the radar by William Tucker was a small fishing boat named “The Fair Lady.” It was found by the coast guards, floating aimlessly several miles from land. Strangely enough however, after they boarded they found it to be completely abandoned. 
      We’ve got some of our experts analysing the boat this very moment. If anything suspicious is found on it, you will be informed, don’t worry. 
     Everyone seemed content with that answer and stood up, picking up their files and heading for the door. As Terrance passed the lady he turned to her. 
      “What if it’s the Kraken?” he said sarcastically. 
      “Well then I hope it gets you first,” she retorted, not amused. 
   
   
   
   3. Research  
   
    Andrew Gray led Gene Fay and Gerald Hudson back to his office. Andrew found that although they were taking exactly the same route as the one he had taken this morning; his whole mental attitude was extremely different. Before, his feelings while walking towards the briefing room were those of apprehension, doubt, and excitement, while now on his way back, though he still had the feeling of excitement, that emotion was overpowered by a greater one of determination, a greater will power that outweighed any other forms of anxiety he might have felt before. Reaching his destination, Andrew pulled the keys out of his front jean pocket, and unlocked the door leading to his office. Andrew motioned for Gene and Gerald to come inside, and once they did, he shut the door with a silent “swoosh” which ended in a low “click”.  
     After having done this, Andrew walked over to his computer, shaking the mouse for the screen saver to disappear. After entering the password that showed up after the screensaver, Andrew invited Gene and Gerald to come and sit around. Since there was only one extra chair, Gene sat cross legged on the soft carpet floor. 
         “Where shall we start off?” he inquired, while clicking around on his mouse.   
  “Could we research the reports of the Bermuda Triangle?” Gene asked, “Since I don’t know a lot about them?”  
      “Good idea, do you agree Gerald?”  
     Gerald did agree, so Andrew entered the internet browser on his computer. Opening Google, Andrew typed in the search “Bermuda Triangle legends” and instantly hundreds of pages showed up. Andrew smiled, remembering how long it had taken for internet pages to load five years ago compared to now, especially with the latest technologies he had access to. Clicking on the first link on the page, Andrew opened to a website full of stories of Bermuda Triangle legends. 
    “This one seems interesting”, he said, reading aloud. 
   
   
   * * * * * 
   
   
   
   Strange Disappearances 
   
   
    “There are strange parts of the so-called Devil’s Triangles. These are places where ships and planes often go missing. Islands lie at the three points of the triangles. The most famous is the Bermuda Triangle. Between Florida, Bermuda, and Puerto Rico is the eerie Sargasso Sea. Hundreds of people have vanished here in the last fifty years. It can be deathly still, with thick seaweed and yellow mists. Or, in sudden storms, the sea can whip up and form heaving waves. Planes have fallen from the sky inside the Bermuda Triangle. Radios and compasses have stopped working. Are there strange powers at work? Or is it just all myth and unlucky coincidence? 
   
  Missing Ships 
   
    Small boats disappear there each year. Maybe that is not surprising because the sea can be so stormy. But what about large ships going missing? In 1980, a 12,000-tonne cargo ship called the Poet disappeared with a crew of 34 on board. The ship had just passed all its safety checks. The last anyone heard of the Poet was when one of the crew called his wife on the ship-to-shore radio. He told her that all was well. The ship was at the edge of the Sargasso Sea and the weather was fine. Yet the Poet vanished soon after this and nothing was ever found. Such mysteries just cannot be explained.” 
   
  Theories and Explanations 
   
    Many people think that the Bermuda Triangle reputation has been exaggerated and that the evidence for so many mysterious disappearances is not very strong. The say that many factors could account for the “accidents” such as frequent and sudden storms, and a particularly fast moving current that could carry unwary ships off course (Although this does not account for the experiences of those in airplanes).  
   
       Despite all these factors, however there are still many convinced that there is something very odd about the area – and some even odder theories about it. Some believe that aliens who are studying our planet occasionally make off with human samples. Others think that it is a door into time, or a fourth dimension, through which one may travel to new worlds or into the future or the past. Other theories are that there is a large sea monster living under the sea, which eats all the ships passing over him.    
   
  Bermuda Disappearances 
   
    1880 - British ship, the Atlanta, vanished with 290 people on board. 
   
    November, 1872 - The Mary Celeste, spotted drifting around the Azores, crewless 
   
    March 1918 - The Cyclops vanished in March 1918 with 309 men aboard  
   
    5th December 1945 - Five avenger torpedo bombers disappeared over the Bermuda Triangle; the flying ship sent to rescue them also vanished without a trace the same day.  
   
    30th October 1954 - Navy Lockheed Super Constellation plane vanished with 42 people on board. 
   
    11th January 1967 - Cargo Plane lost with 4 people on board. 
   
    3rd June 1984 – 27 meter ship (the Marque) lost with 18 people on board.         
   
   
   * * * * * 
   
   
    The list stretched on endlessly, listing all of the known disappearances connected to the Bermuda Triangle. Andrew skimmed through pages and pages of them, randomly reading out the name of a ship that disappeared and when it had happened. Andrew selected the search box for the website, and typed in “disappearance 2014”. Instantly, the hundreds of pages once there, disappeared from sight, revealing only one link left, titled “The Caribbean Dream: Our most recent ship to vanish over the Bermuda Triangle”. Andrew selected the link and once the page reloaded, it opened to this. 
   
   
   * * * * * 
   
   
   The Caribbean Dream 
   
   
    The Caribbean Dream was a cruise ship, a capacity of 4,000 people, including crew. The ship cost 450 million dollars in total to build and outfit, as it featured a large theatre, ice rink, as well as a shopping mall and two 50 meter swimming pools, one outdoors, the other inside. It also was equipped with a library and a DVD rental. Thomas Riley, the captain of the ship, stated before their voyage, that it was in fact the fanciest and most expensive ship he had sailed on and that he was looking forward to “taking this beauty out for a ride.” By the time the “Caribbean Dream” left the coast of America, it was filled up with 3,000 well paying passengers. The first stop was to be the Island of Bermuda, once going there and staying for a few days, the cruise ship was to sail down to Puerto Rico. That’s when things went awry. The major difference with the disappearance of the Caribbean Dream is simply this, it is the first and only vehicle, whether ship or plane, to disappear during what we know of the 21st century. Though we don’t have a large amount of information on the disappearance, we do know that it disappeared over the Bermuda Triangle, something that hasn’t happened in about 15 years. 
   
    The disappearance was straight forward enough for followers of Bermuda Triangle mysteries. The Caribbean Dream had left Bermuda exactly the same, plus seventeen passengers. The ship had been checked on before departure, and it was in good working order. One of the passenger’s had received a phone call from his mother the same day of the disappearance, and reported to her on the good time he had been having. He said everything was going wonderfully. Now though we know that the person who received the phone call wasn’t the captain or didn’t have any kind of knowledge about how the ship was faring, he could tell that in other things that everything else was fine. One hour after the call, the ship disappeared off the radar. When the satellite images were viewed, the area over the ship was densely clouded about half an hour before the disappearance and the time the ship is thought to have disappeared, visibility of the Caribbean Dream was impossible. It seemed that by the time the cruise ship vanished, the fog started to disperse, as if whatever took the ship was in side or part of the mist. 
   
   
   * * * * * 
   
   
    There was a short pause as Andrew finished reading, the listeners soaking up all the information. The silence was shattered shortly after by the sound of Andrew’s cell-phone, waking everyone up from their reverie. Answering, this was what ensued between Andrew and the nameless lady.  
       Andrew, answering, “Hello, who’s this”.  
  Voice, “Hello Andrew”, said the voice speaking on the other side, “I have just received a report from a police station about thirty minutes from here, they appear to have a Bermuda Triangle disappearance survivor with them right now. One or two of your team could go and check out the situation, and something helpful might crop up. Come once you have decided who is going and I will give you the direction.”  
      He heard a “click” coming across the line and with that the phone call was ended. The lady didn’t leave any room for option, she had something for them to do and they needed to do it. 
   
    Andrew turned around and looked at the other two occupants of his office.  
      “How should we do this?”  
  “I’ll stay back,” Gene answered, “and you two can go.”  
      Gerald agreed with this.  
  “Okay”, Andrew said, standing up and stretching his legs, “lets go, Gerald and get those directions. Gene, you can use my computer and research more on the Bermuda Triangle”.  
    “Sure,” Gene agreed.  
  And if Gene were to have closed her eyes shut and stuck her fingers in her ears, and if she opened her eyes ten seconds later, she could have sworn that Andrew and Gerald simply disappeared. 
   
   
   
   
   4. Henry Downing  
   
       Terrance viewed his Global Positioning System (GPS) receiver to see what his location was. He was exactly two kilometres away from his planned destination, the spot that previously swallowed up three large ships in a single, great gulp.  
     He slowed the plane down and started lowering it.  
      All that was visible below him was an endless stretch of ocean, spreading out its ceaseless arms and enveloping everything underneath it. This was the sea, the most troublesome area for scientists and investigators alike. Its murky depth contains secrets still yet to be uncovered. It hid secrets that perhaps will never be revealed to mankind. 
      “You have reached your destination” a female, mechanical voice emitting from the GPS announced.  
     Terrance controlled his plane so that it circled to the right. As the plane was circling and gradually losing altitude, the three occupants in it looked out of their windows, staring intently towards the ocean floor, searching for any forms of wreckage.  
    This went on for about five minutes until an exclamation from Chevan alerted the two men. She was pointing down towards the water, on the left side of their plane but slightly ahead. Terrance and Tyron’s eyes followed the direction of her out stretched hand. It took a few seconds for them to see it but once they did they both cried out excitedly. Terrance moved his plane to fly towards the thing they saw in the water so that they could get closer to it.  
     The three were not exactly sure what it was they were seeing. It looked like a piece of something shiny and black sticking out of the water. The sun shone off the portion, revealing a triangle shaped object. Chevan pulled out her camera and snapped several quick pictures of it. By the time she moved the camera away from her eyes, the mysterious item had vanished from sight.  
    Terrance flew the seaplane down to where the object had disappeared. He landed on the approximate area where he thought it was, water spraying. Tyron stepped out of the plane onto the pontoon. Outside of the plane, the sky was a beautiful blue, the bright sun shining brilliantly. Though the water was fairly clear, by the time he knelt down and peered into the water, he couldn’t find any forms of wreckage or anything that may have been the object which they just saw. Chevan and Terrance both joined him but no matter how hard they looked, they still couldn’t see their mysterious object.  
   
    Terrance pulled his cell phone out of his right jean pocket. He pressed in the digits and the phone was answered three rings later.  
      “Hello,” he began, “we have just checked out the area where the ships disappeared last night”.  
     “Good, found anything”?  
   “Well, when we were circling over the spot we saw a black, metallic looking triangle object in the water. Once we came closer though, to get a better look at it, it sunk into the sea. Chevan got pictures of it but none of us can seem to figure out what it is. It’s probably some part of one of the ships. We landed on the water and got out to look but we couldn’t see anything either. If you could send a submarine maybe it could discover what it is.” 
     “Okay, let’s do that, meanwhile fly over to Bermuda and see if you can get some more information on the Caribbean Dream”.  
     The noise that followed was the sound of someone hanging up.  
     “Okay, let’s get going”!   
   
   
   
   * * * * * 
   
   
     Andrew turned up the street, his tires screeching over the wet, black gravel. The dark, menacing clouds that enveloped the sky clashed dramatically with the bright, summer billboards, full of yellows and greens. People trudged along the side walks, burdened with bright red shopping bags, clutched at there brown overcoats, as if they were not only attempting to ward off the feeling of the gloomy weather, but also their depression. Glum expressions were imprinted on their faces. Overall it was quite a melancholy sight. 
    Gusty winds swirled around the car. It whipped up a stray newspaper which flew into the windscreen. Its bright coloured page declared “Thirteen More Die from the Loco Disease”. A second gust of wind blew, carrying the newspaper back onto the sidewalk where it was trodden on by the weary populace. It almost seemed as if that newspaper was purposefully blown onto that windscreen to remind Andrew and Gerald how desperate and urgent there job was.   
     Andrew parked the car in front of the police station. Before he stepped out, he opened the glove compartment and pulled out the box that was in it. Opening the lid, he pulled out a pistol which he then deposited into the holster connected to his belt. He stepped out of the car and shut the door behind him.  
       “What’s that for”, Gerald questioned? 
  “Well, you never know what may happen, it is better to be safe”. 
     The wind felt a lot faster then it looked when he was in the car. He pulled his jacket closer around him and bowed his head to avoid wetting his face. A light rain had started to fall and a slight mist was weaving its way around them. 
     “Horrible weather this, Gerald observed, and this is the starting of summer. You hear about global warming but there is no excuse for this.”    As Andrew was agreeing, the front door of police station opened.   
  (* Unlike most fictional detectives, the ones in this story don’t always wear hats and large jackets everywhere they go in attempt to look inconspicuous. Of course those detectives are shooting themselves in the foot, or are having someone else shoot them. As the only way that they could look subtle in that is if they were to walk in on a winter hat and coat competition) 
   
  By the outfit, they could tell that the young, nervous looking guy coming out to greet them was a sergeant. He came up and shook hands with the two men. His hands were warm against there cold.  
        “Hello gentlemen”, the sergeant greeted, “thank you for coming, I’m Sergeant Ted Collin”.  
    “Hi, I am Andrew Gray and this is my partner, Gerald Hudson from I.D.I.”, he answered as he showed his card. “So, what has the survivor been telling you, he asked”?  
        “Well, since we knew you were coming, we decided to wait till you come before we start asking any questions. Just saying sir, but he seems a little bit batty.  Oh, and another thing sir, he has been repeating a name over and over, Henry Downing it sounds like. We are not completely sure though, he talks in a very slurred way sir”. 
     Andrew nodded his head. “Excellent, would it be possible if we could see him and start questioning him as soon as possible?” 
       “There should be no problem with that sir; you may speak to him whenever you wish” 
      Ted Collins strode forward and opened the glass door and waited for the two men to enter. The warmth of the room was immediately noticeable to the two detectives walking in from outside. The police station was filled of police officers, just milling around, obviously interested in what was going on. Collins led the way till they got to a door in the corridor which you could see into it by a one way mirror. The Bermuda Triangle survivor was being held in the stations interrogation room.  
    “What’s this”, Andrew asked; aggravation in his voice. 
  “Sorry sir”? 
     “Why is he in there”? 
  “Well, Ted stuttered, I thought, you know, that you wanted to interview him, so I thought it would be best if we kept him here…” 
     “Is he a criminal”? “Did he do any crimes”? 
  “Well, no sir, I just thought...”  
     Andrew had already pushed open the door to the interrogation room. 
   
     You could see Andrew through the window talking to the man. Gerald immediately noticed that there was something wrong with him. Even with Andrew talking to him, all he did was look down at the table, his head bobbing up and down. Andrew walked around the table till he was standing right next to the man.  
      “What’s his name”, Gerald asked, still looking through the two way mirror. 
     Ted Collins looked down and shuffled his feet. “We didn’t manage to get it sir”. He wasn’t sure what he had done but he knew that in some way he had blown it.  
     Gerald could sense Andrew quickly getting frustrated by the minute even though he couldn’t hear what he was saying; his body language said it all. The next thing that Andrew did was put his hand under the victim’s armpit, and with some effort, he managed to raise the man onto his feet. Then Andrew basically just dragged him towards the door. Gerald quickly opened the door for Andrew and went to assist him in carrying the weight. The burden’s skin was cold and clammy. 
     “He must be in shock”, Andrew said before Gerald could ask what was wrong with him. “He is conscious and his eyes are open, but he doesn’t seem alert to anything that is happening around him. He seems almost as if he were in his own separate world”.   
       “So, what should we do with him?” 
  “Probably put him in a warm room somewhere and let him rest, he is most likely completely exhausted.” 
     Ted piped up. “We got a small room here with a bed at the station; you could put him in there if you wanted.” 
    “Great”, Andrew answered, “just lead the way.” 
     In two minutes they had the room set up, the man underneath covers and a heater on. 
    “I guess that is the most we can do now”, Andrew said, “We will just have to wait till he recovers”. 
    Gerald pulled out his cell-phone and rang up Gene Fay. 
  “Hello Gene, this is Gerald.” 
     “Hi, how is it going over there?” 
    “Haven’t found out anything yet, the guy is in shock. What’s the news over there?” 
      “We got a phone call from the other team, they saw some kind of black, triangular thing while they were high in the sky, but it submerged before they got down to it. We are sending a submarine out now to check up on that. Meanwhile our team is flying over to Bermuda just to check up on the Cruise ship.”  
      “Oh, well that’s good for them. Um, can you ask whether we should stay here or come back to the base? Or does the main lady have something else she wants us to do?” 
      “Sure, I will do that; I’ll call you back okay?” 
  “Fine, that would be great, thanks.” 
     He slid his phone shut and turned around. “So, I phoned Gene and asked her to ask the head lady what we should do. She said she would call back in about five minutes.” 
      “Good work”, Andrew answered “And did she mention what Terrance and they saw?”  
  “Yeah, she said that they saw some black and triangular object, but they didn’t see it properly though. She also said they’re sending a submarine to get a better look.” 
      Andrew nodded his head and then turned around and walked over to Ted Collin. From the distance that Gerald was standing, he couldn’t hear much of what was being said but he could tell that Andrew was reprimanding him for what he had done. 
  He felt the vibrations coming from the phone in his pocket, and he answered before the tone started. 
     “Hi Gerald, I talked to the main lady and she said that you should wait there for now until something crops up.” 
   “Okay, thanks for relaying the message; hopefully next time we talk we will have some better news.”  
     “All right, well good luck then.” 
  “Oh, I forgot, the survivor, we still haven’t got his name, has been repeating this name, Henry Downing. Could you possibly search up on it for us?”   
     “Sure, will do, Bye.”  
   
  Andrew walked back  
      “What she say”? 
  “That we should wait here for now till we are needed somewhere else,” Gerald answered. 
      “Fine, I just finished talking to Ted Collins over there. He says that the guy came to them about an hour before we got here. He sort of stumbled through the door. He was babbling basically, but he mentioned some things about coming from a ship that disappeared in the Bermuda Triangle. I didn’t know but it seems the head lady has sent a message to all police stations that if they heard anything about the Triangle to ring her up. Anyways, he didn’t remember the name of the ship but everything points to the Caribbean Dream. Ted says that he said “We are just going to call some people to ask you more questions and you can just sit somewhere and wait” and he took the man by the arm and led him towards the interrogation room.  
     “Then he says the guy started trying to struggle with him and was saying something that he couldn’t understand. All he made out was Henry Downing, which Ted says he heard repeatedly. Then just before they reached the room it seemed as the man gave up with his struggling so they just put him in the interrogation room and left him there till we came.” 
     “Sounds like he was trying to tell them something,” Gerald replied.      
  “I agree, but what?” Andrew sighed softly. 
     “What it seems to me is that this guy forced himself to a police station to tell them something, and once he did he just lost all his strength.” 
    Andrew nodded, “you are probably right, but that doesn’t help us very much at all. The most we can do is look up into that name, Henry Downing. Could you phone Gene and ask her to do that”? 
     “I already did that.” 
  “Okay, good work.” 
     Gerald and Andrew both heard running footsteps in there direction. Turning towards the direction of the clatter, they both saw a young police man, his black shoes flying over the shiny white floor.  Sliding to a halt just before colliding into the two in front of him, the young man stopped to catch his breath for a few seconds and then started. 
   
     “Sorry sirs, but Ted Collins is calling for you two. He says that the man is up from bed and is presently outside.” 
     Quick as a flash, Andrew was away from where he was standing in front of the young police man and was running in the direction of the front door. Gerald immediately started running as well, trying to keep up with Andrew. Andrew pushed open the door, and immediately stepped out into the wind. From behind Andrew, Gerald could see Ted Collins holding the man by the arm but the man was trying to walk away from him. Andrew walked over to him and just before he got to him, something happened, something that would replay in Gerald’s and Andrew’s minds for probably the rest of their lives.   
     Andrew reached out his hand to put it on the man’s shoulder. Ted Collins looked in the direction of Andrew, his eyes aware of the new person stepping into his focus, his lips opening to say something.  
     But Andrew’s hand never did reach the man’s shoulder. Ted’s mouth never finished completed the words it was trying to say. At first no one took in what happened at that moment. Then a few seconds later the meaning exploded into each of their minds. Andrew looked down on the floor at the motionless figure on the ground, blood gushing out of his head. He immediately looked around, searching all over for anyone who could have done this. A faint echo of the gunshot still echoed in his ear. All three of them stood frozen, looking, searching. 
   
    “Andrew, Gerald hollered, up there!” 
     Andrew looked in the direction of Gerald’s outstretched hand. Up in the hotel across the street from the police department, a curtain was open, and a sniper was in the window. Andrew started thinking. 
     “How many policemen are in the building?” 
  Ted Collins brain struggled, “Seven, sir.” 
      “Get all of them out, with guns. I need them to surround the building in front of us. You know what to do!” 
  He didn’t mean this as a question. 
     “Yes sir.” 
      “Use the hotel security as well! Gerald, you come with me.” He was already running towards the street, pulling the gun out of his holster. 
    Gerald stood there, still stunned. 
     Ted Collins pulled out his gun, handing it to Gerald. Gerald nodded and sprinted after Andrew. 
     Ted remembered something. “What should I do with the dead body, he shouted?” His question was lost in the noise of the street. 
    A police man ran out of the building. Thomas, you and Freddy take this body and put him in one of the cells. Tell everyone to come to me immediately, with firearms, and you go across the street to me once you are done.” 
   “Oh, and tell Vivian to bring me an extra gun.” 
   
     Andrew and Gerald ran into the hotel lobby, there I.D.I. cards flashing ahead of them. Andrew ran up to a guard who was walking in their direction and showed him his badge. “We got a murderer in here, I want you to shut down your elevators, understand? Work with the police, they should be here in about a minute. We two are going up.”  
     “Yes sir!” 
     “He shot from the top story, story four. It was the second from the left,” Gerald said as they ran towards the stairs. 
     The two of them ran all the way up the stairs until they got to the top floor. The door to the room that the killer was in was slightly ajar. Andrew raised the gun he was carrying and walked slowly towards the door.  The small hand gun felt extremely heavy in his hands and he was perspiring heavily, panting slightly. He walked to the door, till he came right next to it and put his back to the wall. Quickly, even with the strain on his arm, he pointed the gun into the room and stuck his head into the doorway. He could see a figure sitting on a chair, a sniper set up in front of him, the dark brown curtains partly drawn. He was facing away from them. 
     “Sir, this is the I.D.I. We need you to put your hands up over your head.” Andrew spoke steadily as he entered the room, his gun pointed at the shooters head. 
     But the man didn’t want to listen. He just sat there. His body language didn’t give any indication that he heard the request and was going to obey it. As Gerald entered the room, he looked at the killer. His head was slouched, looking towards his lap, his shoulders slumped. The only strange thing about this image was that he was sitting straight against the back of the chair. He looked as if he was sleeping while sitting. Andrew repeated the request as he walked nearer to him and mentioned for Gerald to search the rest of the apartment. Gerald walked into the bathroom but noticed nothing amiss. He then steadily made his way into bedchambers. Everything was neat and tidy. He opened each of the cupboard doors, though what he was looking for he didn’t know. The room was clean.  
   
      As he walked back into the living room he saw Andrew, sitting on a sofa, his face in his hands.  
    There was blood on his fingers. 
      “What Happened?” 
     Andrew didn’t answer. He stood up and walked over to the guy sitting on the chair. Gerald followed him. There was a red scarf on the floor, the one that Gerald saw around the killer’s neck before. Andrew took hold of the killers chin and raised his head. Gerald immediately looked away. It smelt of blood. He wondered why he hadn’t smelt it when he first came in the apartment. Their supposed killer was sitting, strapped to a dining room chair, his neck sliced open by a knife. A little square piece of paper was stuck to his forehead by a metal tack. 
   
   
   
   
    5. The Next Disappearing Act  
   
     Gerald exhaled loudly and slowly turned back to face the dead man, his face moulded into a steely stare. It changed slightly as he viewed the slit throat with blood pouring out. He raised himself up and walked over to the window, drawing the curtain. He stared out of the window but saw nothing of what was happening there. His vision was encompassed with the image of the dead man and nothing he could do would erase it. Shutting his eyes didn’t relieve the discomfort either.  
      Andrew spoke to him. “Check this out.”  
     The sound shattered the image and brought him back to reality. Immediately a rush of sounds and images flashed before him. Cars started honking and the tires skidded. The wind howled. And then he heard loud breathing, coming from him. Andrew stood next to him and passed him a small piece of square paper. It had a small spot of blood on it, it was still wet. On it was a symbol. A large scarlet circle circled around a blood red triangle. 
     “Where did you get this from”, Gerald asked, confused.   
       “From the dead mans forehead.”  
  That was when Gerald knew that everything he just saw was real. 
      Andrew went back to examining the body but Gerald stayed looking out the window. In the background he could hear someone talking on the phone. He wasn’t thinking clearly again. He looked straight down and in front of him, the cold wind blowing around his face. 
   And then he saw something strange. A person was standing inside the police department’s doorway. He was dressed in a long black cloak like from the medieval days. Gerald was sure there was something wrong with him but couldn’t pinpoint it. He just stayed standing down there. It almost seemed as if he was staring back at Gerald.  
     “Are you okay Gerald?” 
     Reality returned to him. He looked down; the man was still in the doorway, looking up. 
   “Look over there.” He yelled to Andrew and pointed towards the cloaked figure. 
    The sound seemed to have scared the person off. He quickly stepped back into the station. 
  “What did you see?” Andrew asked, looking in the direction. 
      “There was a cloaked man standing in the doorway, he was just looking at me.” 
  Andrew looked at him. Gerald was sure that he didn’t believe him. 
      “I swear”, he said, pleading in his voice. 
  “Calm down, I know that this is your first case and you have just experienced something very shocking. Just sit down on a couch and try and pull yourself together.” 
    Gerald obeyed him and walked over to the couch.  
  After about a minute three other people walked into the room. Andrew walked over to them and they shook hands. 
       “We can take it from here Andrew Gray, thank you.” 
   “Okay, we don’t want to disturb you. Come on Gerald lets go downstairs and check on the police”. 
    Once they got down the stairs, they spotted Ted Collins and walked over to him.  
      “Guess no one came down, huh?” 
   “That’s correct sir.” 
      “Blast it. Get the head of the security to search the building, see if they can find how the murderer got out.” 
     An ambulance pulled up out side the building. The driver jumped out and stepped in, walking straight up to Andrew. 
       “Hello sir, I hear someone has been shot?” 
  “Yes, let me take you. Ted, what did you do with him?” 
      “I put him in one of the cells sir, let me take you.” 
   
    Andrew, Ted, Gerald and the two men from the ambulance crossed the street and entered the police station. Andrew could tell that Gerald was scared as he entered it, looking all around. Ted led them towards the cells and in the closest one they could see the body, lying on the floor.  
      Ted pointed to it. “It’s over there sirs.” 
      Andrew was turning away but Gerald walked right in the cell, following the paramedics. Andrew stepped in as well. 
     “Come on Gerald, let’s go and help”. . . He didn’t finish his sentence. His flow of words ended the same time the movement of his eyes did. The reason for this was because he had seen something, and not any ordinary thing. The item that had caught his attention was a piece of paper, tacked by a metal tack onto the victim of the sniper shots forehead. It was a symbol, a large scarlet circle, circling a blood red triangle.   
   
   
   * * * * 
   
   
      “Seen anything yet?” 
  Gene asked this question to the computer screen. Her job was to keep contact with the submarine team. Learn all the information first hand and pass it on to the main lady. A crackly, choppy voice answered. The sound waves struggled like a long distance swimmer through the oceans waters.  
   
      “Nothing yet,” was the reply from hundreds of miles away. “We will immediately contact you if we see something or anything out of the ordinary occurs.” 
   “Okay, fine.” 
      Gene impatiently tapped on the desk. 
  Less than a minute later some crackling could be hear through her headphones.  
      “Hello”? 
  “Hi, we’re getting some kind of object on our radar ahead of us. We don’t have a very clear image of what it is yet. Oh!” 
       “What’s it?” 
   “I’m not completely sure, but it’s definitely something very large. But not like an underground mountain, more like something else.” 
      “What like what?”  
   “Just wait, I think it is a. . . No it couldn’t be!” 
      “It couldn’t be what?” 
  Even with the choppy sound, Gene could hear the tension in the voice of the man in the submarine. 
     “I’m pretty sure it couldn’t be this, this shouldn’t, couldn’t be this big. It isn’t possible!” 
      “What is it?” 
   A short gasp of panic was all that was there to answer her. 
     It stopped. Gene hadn’t noticed it before. She hadn’t known what “It” was. She could hear the ticking of the clock now. She was so used to that low crackling noise now that once it was gone, only then did she fully realize the meaning of silence.  
    What basically happened was that the connection between her and the submarine had cut. Contact was non existent. Not possible. 
      “Hello. Hello! Can you hear me? Is there anyone there?” Gene was ashamed to hear the fear in her voice. Cold, deadly fear. She needed to clear her head so she could decide on the right course of action.  
    She wouldn’t let herself get taken over. Become overrun.  
     Her mind burst with different theories for the termination. Vile monsters, scary as hell, ripping apart human flesh, blood spraying all around. Not a pretty picture. 
    She took several deep breaths. She needed to call Lady Boss. 
    She picked up the phone, typed in the digits. Her actions were mechanical.  
     “News?”  
  Head lady was direct.   
   “Yes.” Gene’s voice sounded a firmer quality then the last time she heard herself speak. She was relieved. 
       “Bad.” It was a statement. Gene was amazed how see-through her voice was. 
   “I lost contact.” 
        She heard the frustration from the Nameless One. 
   “I’m coming over to listen to the conversation. Stay there.  
   
   
   * * * * * 
   
   
     Terrance’s seaplane splashed on contact with the liquid ground beneath it. Tyron jumped out of it as it slowed to a stop, a length of rope coiled in his hand. He took the cable and tied it around the pontoon, and then tied the rope on the other side to the dock. 
   
     The capital city of Bermuda, Hamilton, greeted the trio with a warm welcome.                                        
   
    Terrance pulled out his cell phone and rang dialled in Gene’s phone number.  
   
  “Hello this is Gene, who am I speaking to?” 
     “Hey Gene, it is Terrance calling from Hamilton.” 
  “Oh. That’s great.” I need you to go and check out a house for me.” 
     “Sure, we can do that. But may I ask why?” 
  “Well. You know the guy Gerald and Andrew went to have a little talk to?” 
  “Yeah, supposed victim of the Bermudan Dream. What about him?” 
      “He was murdered.” 
   “WHAT?” 
       “Yeah, shot by a sniper.” 
  “Wow. Well, did the boys get the shooter.” 
       “Unfortunately no, they surrounded the building and the two went up in after the guy but when they came in the room all the found was the occupant of the room dead. Slit throat.” 
   “Ouch 
       “Yep, the killer must have somehow got out by the roof. I actually just got a report. The sniper belonged to the guy whose room it was. No finger prints found either. 
   “Ugh. How’s Andrew taking this?” 
       “Not the greatest I fear. Can’t keep beating himself up for not getting the guy. The cheekiest part was that this killer shot the survivor, got out of the building, and snuck to the police station across the street to stick this circle triangle symbol on his forehead with a tack.” 
     “Sounds foolish and proud, almost conceited. You keep on calling him “the survivor”. Did they never get his name? 
     “Nope. They say he was in a daze. They sent me a picture of him though so I am going try and match him to one of the people on the Caribbean Dream.  They didn’t actually get anything out of him except a name. Henry Downing. I searched up on him. He was also a passenger on the Bermuda Ship. Apparently he lives in Bermuda.” 
      “You want us to check out his house?”  
  “Yes. But let me tell you something strange. I searched up on the house the address is to and found out that it belonged to a certain Vincent Hugh. I didn’t find anything about him. He didn’t have any relatives and he didn’t and never had worked anywhere. I searched for any faces that matched up with him and guess what I found?” 
       “Please tell me, I am interested.” 
  “He was Albert Guss.” 
       “. . . Which Is?” 
  “Let me teach you something young man. Albert Guss was a scientist. He discovered the mineral “Posatalate” or as most of us all knows as the cure for the Loco disease. He had a brilliant mind and he grouped up with four other scientists to do tests on this mineral. This was before the break out of the Loco disease and he found a small amount of this Posatalate. After about three months of hard work something happened though. Fred Young, one of the four young students working together with Albert Guss was murdered, shot through the heart. Another thing that happened was that the same night that this happened was that Albert disappeared. 
     “The police found the gun used to do the murder and found it belonged to the missing Albert Guss and there were his fingerprints even on the gun. Even till now they have never found a reason for the random killing. His other colleagues did mention that Albert was acting a lot more uptight than they were used to. And for killing Fred they couldn’t understand. Fred and Albert were best friends all the way from high school.” 
      “Wow.” 
  “Yep. And the amazing thing is that I found him just like that when the whole America couldn’t.” 
     “Well don’t get to proud. I think I would credit that to luck. And we will definitely take a look.” 
     “That is great. I will send you a sms of the street address. The best of luck to you all! Hopefully you will find something to give this mission a real strong kick in the back side.” 
     “We will definitely need it. The sooner we do the less amount of people have to die. And thank you.”  
   
   
   
   * * * * * 
   
   
        The building stood in front of them. Some may say that due to the immense importance of this house to the discovery of the world’s cure of extinction, it should be something large and imposing. Instead, the cottage standing ahead of them was small, unimpressive structure. Without looking around, Terrance, Chevan and Tyron could tell that no one had looked after the house in a while. The grass on the front lawn was extremely overgrown. Several newspapers were lying on the lush vegetation. 
       Terrance walked up to the front door and rang the bell.  
   
     “Doesn’t look like any one’s here, Chevan said, trying to peer through the curtains blocking the window.” 
  Tyron walked up and joined her. 
     “It’s true. And look, seems like we got a little audience!” 
  “Where, who, Terrance asked?” 
      “They’re right behind me, neighbours from across the street.”  
  Terrance turned around and looked. Across the street an elderly couple stood on their front lawn, watching them. He walked across the silent street, his boots kicking up hot gravel.  
     “Hello sir, ma’am. I hope it wouldn’t be an inconvenience for you if I asked a few questions. My name is Terrance Ridly and I work for a detective agency called the I.D.I. Right now I am working on a top secret mission and it would be of a great help to me and my mission if I could receive a little information on the owner and occupants of the house across from us.” 
      “Oh yes, we would be glad to help you as much as you need.” The old lady bobbed her large head up and down, a large smile on her face. Terrance could already see the old wife inviting her lady friends for tea the same afternoon and repeating the whole conversation he was about to have with her. She was the perfect woman for what he needed. She was full of gossip. 
   
  “Okay, firstly, who lives inside that house, Terrance questioned?” 
     “A young chap, name’s Vincent Hugh, quite hansom’ like. He as blonde hair, sparkling green eyes, and is round his mid thirties. I don’t think he had a profession. He stayed in his house most of the time, what he was up to I still don’t know. You know, I think he has been murdered or kidnapped. 
     “What?”   
  “Why yes young sir, I am actually quite sure. Maggie and I were actually just talking ‘bout it last night over a cup of good cup of coffee. 
      “But, what makes you think that?” 
  “Well, you see, as I said before, Vincent stayed in his house most of the time. However, every other day he would go down to the shops and buy groceries. I think he had some medical problems because he would visit the pharmacy at least once a week at the least. Anyway, he hasn’t been out for three days already.” 
      “Okay. But wait! What about the other person living there, Henry Downing? 
  “Henry Downing? I never heard of a Henry Downing. I’m basically completely sure Vincent was the only person living in that house. Unless, her face broke into a wide grin, there was some kind of secret passage in the house, which transported this “Henry Downing” in and out of the house.”  
     Terrance felt he had gotten all the information he could receive from the lady without going completely mad. He could also tell that the old woman wanted to share her amazing new idea with her good friends. 
   
      “Well thank you sir and madam, it was extremely insightful.” 
  “Pssht, no problem, the old man answered, and the best of luck to finding whatever you are trying to find.”  
       Terrance almost got startled as he realized that there was someone else standing beside the lady. She had been talking so much that he hardly saw him there. 
   
  “What a talker,” he grumbled as he walked away.  
   
      His mind tried to grab a hold of all the information, to sort them into useful files and pack them into the boxes of his mind for further study of them.  
      “Either this “Henry Downing” person lived in the house but never came out. He wouldn’t have been able to sneak out the front of the house with that type of “spying” going on. 
      Or, as the lady was saying, there was a secret passageway somewhere in the house which this Henry Downing used to enter and leave the premises. 
     Or, another reason was Henry Downing never lived in this house. 
     Then there would be two reasons he could have given this house. He could have either given the address because he didn’t want them to know his real address so he picked a random house address or he could have given the address because he didn’t want them to know his real address but he chose this house because he wanted whoever was going to look into him to find this house.” 
   
     His contemplating sharply ended with the loud sound of a crash. 
      Tyron was the perpetrator. The front door lay flat down, smashed in. The insides of the old cottage revealed. Terrance ran up to Tyron.  
   
     “Tyron, I never told you to break into the house. This is not like the movies. We are not allowed to just bash down the door and go in without some kind of warrant no matter whom or what is inside the house.” 
    Tyron wasn’t so repentant. 
  “Terrance, the way I see it is, we either check it out now or we wait for who knows how long till we get a warrant and by then perhaps another fifty plus people will die and whatever we might find here could be moved. Any ways, I already broke it open; we might as well check this place out. And we got witnesses as well, so we couldn’t put the door back.” 
     “Witnesses?” 
  “Uhuh.” 
      “Oh. What? Them? In their windows?” 
  “Yessir.” 
       “Gosh.” 
  “You can say that again. Now will you follow me?” 
    “Lead the way.” 
   
   
   
   
   6. The Hunt  
   
     Andrew Gray and Gerald Hudson stepped back out into the open air. They both felt bare, exposed, as if from an open wound. The wide open air above them, now cleared of clouds, thundered upon the two, crashing down on them. Every open window surrounding them seemed to be a threat to their very existence. They were both reminded of the story of the king at dinner that looks up to find a sword dangling over his head.  
   
      About ten minutes ago Andrew had phoned up the I.D.I. headquarters. 
      He had requested them to view the tapes of the many security cameras from the last hour. Of course it might take them a little while to be able to get a hold of that footage, but once they did, if it wasn’t too late, it would assist tremendously in the investigation.  
    Faces passed by them, faces that jostled and pushed, always trying to get everywhere first. Faces that didn’t care who they trampled over to achieve their goals. Altogether they were not bad people, but they were people whose lives were as fragile as the ant under their feet. 
     “Who knows, Gerald’s troubled mind pondered, all these people, by tomorrow at least three of them could, no, will be dead or at least catch the Loco disease.” The frailty of life didn’t just dawn on him; it hacked its way into his mind. It wasn’t fear that frightened him; but was rather a cold calculation of life, and that scared him even more. 
   
      He felt something hitting against his leg. He looked down and saw the same newspaper that hit the windshield earlier today. “It’s strange, it definitely seems longer than that, he said to himself, I guess so much has happened in the last two hours.” 
     He picked up the paper.  
  “President to speak at festival,” he interjected, reading the front page’s title. 
     “Say what,” Andrew asked? He seemed to be musing over something on his own as well.  
      “It says here Florence Koss will have a speech at the festival, he explained” 
     “Really, about what?” 
  “Oh you know, the usual various things. The Loco disease, the fight against terrorism and need for greater security, and the importance of recycling. Apparently a live, open air conversation is going to make a difference to the "who cares" attitude of the majority of the public.  
     Of course most of them are scared of the consequences of their attitudes but none of them seem to care to do anything about it. They have gone soft after the whole “2012” incident I’m guessing. If nothing happened then, than why should something happen now?”  
   
     “Hopefully we will have the Loco problem cleared up by then,” Andrew interjected. “Does it say which day it will be?”  
   
    “No, is says here it has been decided but only a few select people know the exact date and time to avoid any terrorists from planning any type of trouble. So that being said, they will reveal the time of the speech the day before it.” 
      “I see. Very cautious, you think it’s needed?” 
  “I know I am using a cliché, but my view is better safe then sorry right?” 
   
  “Fair enough, fair enough.” 
   Andrew’s Phone rang. 
   
  “Hey. It’s Gene here.” 
     “Hi, that was quick.” 
  “Yes, thankfully we could get those videos quite quickly without any problem.” 
      “Thanks a lot.” 
  “No problem.” 
       “You have any news from the other team and you guys?” 
      “Yes. We sent a team in a submarine to check out the spot of the disappearance. Once they got there however we lost contact of them. They were saying something about something being incredibly huge and all of a sudden the transmission just ended.” 
    “Ouch” 
  “Yep, the head lady is really pissed with that one. She’s still trying to think about what method to take next.” 
     “Otherwise Terrance and co. is in Hamilton now checking out this house. I’m not going to go into the big details about it right now but keep your fingers crossed that they will find something there to help us.”  
    “Okay we definitely will, now could we get down to work?” 
     “Yeah sure. That video tape was a gold mine. Great thinking there on your part. We saw the cloaked man Gerald mentioned. Sorry we couldn’t find out how he escaped that building though. Anyways, we tracked him. He went in between two buildings where we couldn’t see him for about a minute. He came out the other side and got into a car, possibly stolen from before. He headed in an easterly direction. The car is a small green Peugeot. It belongs to a Thomas O’Bryan. It seems very foolish of him; he even left the tracker system on. Possibly he didn’t know anything about it. Anyhow, we have the police setting up roadblocks in various places and we should get him soon enough. We’ll also be following him on surveillance cameras so it seems like this mission is pretty much on its way. I’ll keep you posted, you two can go have a meal and relax for a bit.” 
      “I like the sound of that, thanks we will!” 
  “Oh and another thing, you know the survivor guy who just got shot?” 
         “Yep, he asked, “what about him?” 
  “Looked up into him, found a passenger on the Caribbean Dream that matched up with the pictures you sent me. He was a Damon Thatch, a fairly well to do business man. He owned three car repair shops and had a wife and three kids. He had no criminal records whatsoever. I don’t think he will have anything to do with the disappearance. So that’s cleared up.”  
        “Oh okay thanks.”       
   “What did she say,” Gerald asked?    
        “Let’s discuss it over a cup of coffee.” 
   
   
   * * * * * 
   
   
       It wasn’t ransacked. 
   No cobwebs filled the dark corners. 
       No musty smell rushed their noses. 
  What did he really expect? Nope, there were no rats running around the house either.  
    Tryon flicked on his flash light, holding it in his left while his right hand scouted the room with his Glock. 
    “Any chance that there could be a light switch that worked in somewhere in this house,” Chevan questioned as she flicked up the one next to the door.  
     No the light bulb did not flicker on for a while and then burn out. The eyes of the three, busy trying to adjust from the suns shine outside to the darkness of the house got blasted with brightness once again.  
      Whoever lived here obviously was a neat freak. 
  “Okay Tyron you take the right, Chevan go straight and I’ll head too the right", Terrance commanded as he slipped on a pair of latex gloves. Chevan and Tyron followed suit.  
   
       It was a small house. Tyron found the bedroom first. He switched on the light by the door and looked around. He’d say the dimensions were three by four meters. A single bed was in the left corner against the wall. Gray blankets. A small wooden bed stand stood next to it. A desk lamp placed upon it. A dresser lay directly across from the bed. It was full. Whoever left for an excursion probably didn’t take any clothing with him. 
       He checked under the bed. A pair of blue bedtime slippers watched him from out of their small, dark hovel. The groping rays from his flash light searched for anything else. It was incredibly clean under there. Almost as if he cleaned it a few days ago. 
     He decided he wouldn’t find much more in the room. The floor was hard wood. He tapped around for a hollow spot. Who knows what you might find? Nothing. 
    Chevan walked into the kitchen. Everything seemed pretty ordinary to her, at least as far as she could see. She switched on the light to have a better look. No mutant teaspoons or mad paper napkins. Everything was fine. The white tiles beneath her were squeaky clean. She started mindlessly looking through the drawers and cupboards. Cutlery, pots, and serving dishes, all spotless, flashed before here eyes. She had no idea what she was looking for. A Dustpan, plunger, sponges. She pulled all the drawers out, checking if there was anything hidden behind them. Nothing. 
    On to the next room. 
   
     Terrance got the living room. The large wooden coffee table blared in his face, honking horns and shouting. Everything else seemed faded in contrast to it. Even though he didn't know much about wood he could tell from just looking that this was heavy, good quality wood. It reminded him of a coffin. Two small, single chairs guarded it on either side like the soldiers at Jesus’ tomb. A bright blue rug clashed dramatically with the mostly brown and dull colours of the room. A black television stood on the far end of the room. On closer inspection, Terrance could tell that it was brand new or just never used at all.  
  Otherwise the room was free of anything else. A fan hung over the table. The floor here was also hard wood but he couldn't find any hollow spots. He thought of under the table, he would need Tyron to help him. However he thought it unlikely that anything would be hidden under there. The huge table and bright rug screamed at him "lift me, lift me". He doubted that whoever were to hide a secret trap door or passage would put it under something that obvious. "I'm going to check anyways", he told himself.  
      The house was finally searched. It consisted of two bedrooms, one bathroom, kitchen, dining room, and a living room. In the back yard a little storage room stood. Like the rest of the house, the little hut was perfectly clean. The strange thing was that though every part of the house resembled your mom's house the day after Spring Cleaning, the front and back yard resembled your mom's house after a hurricane has struck it and the neighbourhood hooligans had just finished having their way with it. It was a disaster piece. The little grass that existed on the war torn back yard was yellow. Weeds now oppressed the land where once the green grass had peacefully ruled. Cardboard and paper, plastic and trash littered the garden. 
      The shed was a small, wooden structure. Inside, neatly stacked and sorted, were three medium sized boxes and a large metal shelf. Shuffling through the boxes, Chevan found an assortment of objects. The smell of the things in there reminded her of the last time she visited her grand parents. She flipped through a chemistry book that was from the box. The dog eared pages were falling out. She could see paragraphs highlighted in bright green on top of the musty paper. Utter nonsense to her, she had to admit.  
     Chevan, after finishing high school, studied accounting. She had no interest in accounting at all, but her father said in case she needs to fall back on anything; it would be easier to get a job with it. Chevans father was one of the I.D.I. main sponsors in America. The government didn’t feel it was necessary to have a detective agency that was interconnected with the rest of the world. FBI and CIA were enough for them. Of course the I.D.I. board were only to have Chevan on the team. With Chevan, she made up for her lack of knowledge and experience with enthusiasm. She felt like this was what she was born to do and she loved doing it.    
     She neatly put the book back into the box and looked around. There were several test tubes lying on the metal shelf. She picked one up and sniffed it. It stunk. She couldn’t place exactly where she smelt it before but it reminded her of a mixture of Listerine and urine.  
     Tyron walked into the little room.  
  “Chevan, come on, I have something to show you.”                                                                                                                
        “Okay, I’m coming. Not going to spare me any details?” 
  “It’s a surprise.” 
    Chevan studied Tyron’s face to see if she could notice anything. It was blank. She couldn’t note any excitement or anxiousness about him. Just a stone cold face staring back at her. 
       “Okay fine, I’m coming. 
    He led her out the tidy shed, through the messy back yard, and into the kitchen. They didn’t stop until they got to the living room. It was, unlike anywhere else in the house Chevan had seen, unarranged. A single couch was pushed against the wall. A large coffee table, which she assumed was placed in the middle of the room, was now pushed into the area where she guessed the couch once occupied. A large blue rug was rolled up at the end of the room. The trapdoor was opened. 
     “Hey Tyron, come check this out.” The call, which was in Terrance’s voice, came from the hole in the floor.  
     Chevan walked over to the trap door and peered down into it. A light was on inside the room below, a staircase leading down. She couldn’t spot Terrance though. 
  She gingerly stepped down the stairs, brushing her hand against the right wall.    
     Terrance was leaning over a large white bathtub, positioned right in the centre of the room. It looked very odd since the underground chamber wasn’t a bathroom but instead a plain, empty room. The rectangular tub was the only object in the large secret room. A single light bulb suspended over the bath, dangling from the roof. Spotlighting the bath tub and whatever was inside.  
     The dirty bulb reached out with its musty tendrils, straining to reach the distant walls but coming short by several feet. The wall near her that she could see was made of a rough, dark red brick and the floor was bare grey concrete. She couldn’t spot a single speck of dust anywhere around the room. The room was spotless and would have been empty if it weren’t for Terrance. And the dead man in the bath tub. 
     Chevan slowly walked towards it, wary and cautious.  
  “So what do you make of it,” Tyron asked Terrance as he walked in front of Chevan? 
     It seems like, according to the pictures that Gene sent me, this is Albert Guss, the scientist. I’m guessing he was killed by strangulation, see the ligature marks?    
     “Yeah”, Tyron responded, “but look at the hand prints, don’t you notice something strange?” 
    “Um, they’re very small.” 
  “Exactly, they are small, like a child’s hand, but look how deep they are pressed into the skin. Whoever strangled him obviously was extremely strong. I doubt most adults could even apply that much force on someone or something. I’m guessing whoever did it was in some kind of rage, maybe Albert Guss said something, the child or midget got really mad, and just killed him.” 
      “Why would he put him in a bath tub?” 
  “That is strange isn’t it, the bathtub thing. How this room is set up, it almost seems like a stage, and its centre piece is the bath tub. The killer probably killed him, and then set up the tub and put him in it. It definitely was a prearranged murder. Whoever did this thought about it well before doing it.” 
      Chevan stepped in. 
  “Think about it. Why a bath? You think there is meant to be a connection between the bath tub and the Bermuda Triangle?” 
    “It’s possible, Terrance replied.” 
  The same slip of paper was tacked on the head of Albert Guss. Tyron reached out to pick it off but Terrance held out his hand in front of him.  
     “Don’t touch it, you don’ want to disturb the evidence. Everything thing here is going to be carefully inspected, even the water. We don’t have much else to do here, I’m calling Head Quarters.”   
   
   
   * * * * * 
   
     Samantha gazed nervously up and down the darkened street. She shivered, more out of fear than the cold, and looked at her watch. It was 7:13 p.m. She had just been walking home from her sister’s apartment and that guy who asked her for money really gave her the creeps for some reason. She has never been comfortable around beggars. “No one was following you home”, she told herself, “you’re just being paranoid.”  
     Never the less, she couldn’t shake the feeling of danger. Her mom always used to say she had some kind of sixth sense, like she knew about stuff before they happened. When she was younger she believed that was true. Little things would happen, like once when she was seven, she was out, and she suddenly got worried for her Brandy her dog. A few minutes later her father called her, saying that her pet had got run over by a car.  
     Now that she was older though, she left it to coincidence. 
     But now she was just being paranoid. She’d been jumpy the whole day; nothing bad was going to happen. She was just going to have a long, hot bath, prepare a small dinner, and watch television till she fell asleep. There was nothing to worry about. 
      She said it, but she didn’t really believe it.  
        She unlocked the door, switched on the light, and closed the door as soon as she could. She locked behind her, latching as well. She dropped her hand bag on the dining room chair and headed straight to the bathroom. 
     She turned on the water for the tub and stepped back. She peeled out of her rough work clothe, letting it fall on the floor. Once the tub filled, she got in and lay there with her eyes closed until she reached a type of relaxed stupor.  
     After some time, Samantha heard a faint noise from the other side of the house. But she was right, nothing bad was going to happen to her, she was just tired before, that was all. It was probably only the wind.   
     She giggled as she remembered Toms face this afternoon. He acted like a child asking his parents for a new toy. He really was cute and she wondered if maybe she should have went out with him tonight, but she was really set on just relaxing. And besides, he truly wasn’t her type. 
     She heard another noise, but this time she knew it wasn’t the wind. And it came from really close. She was afraid to open her eyes but she did and looked up. Someone was standing in the bathroom doorway, just looking at her. His arms were alongside his body but he was flexing them intensely. The hood from the black sweater he wore covered his face so that Samantha couldn’t see any of his features.  
     Samantha grabbed a towel and hurriedly stepped out of the bath tub. The cold hand of fear gripped her heart.  
       “What are you doing in my house”, she screamed, hoping her neighbours would hear her and scare the stranger away? 
     He didn’t move an inch; he just looked at her, straining at every muscle as if he was trying to hold himself back.  
    All of a sudden he relaxed and Samantha could see his spittle covered lips raise in a smile. 
     And then he lunged. 
   
   * * * * * 
   
      Twenty two miles from the Palm Street police station, the spot where Damon Thatch, only known survivor of the Caribbean Dream, was shot and killed, a green Peugeot pulled up at a police road block. Laurence Young and Lloyd Black, two police officers, walked carefully towards it, and knocked on the driver’s window with their hands on their guns. 
      The Caucasian man in the vehicle looked blankly up at them but slowly rolled down his window. A small cloud of smoke escaped from the car coming from the cigarette in his hand. Although this man who seemed to be in his mid thirties, was wearing a red t-shirt and blue jeans, the officers immediately spotted a black cloak lying on the passenger seat behind him, exactly like the one that was described to the two officers.  
      Laurence and Lloyd hastily pulled out their pistols and pointed them at the man.  
     “Get out of the car and put your hands up,” Laurence yelled! 
    The man slowly and obediently opened the driver’s door and stepped out, keeping both of his hands above his head the whole time. Following the police men’s orders, he turned around, put his head against the bonnet, put his hands behind his back, and got cuffed by Lloyd Black.  
      When Laurence repeated what happened to his superiors later, he remembered that there was something strange about the man that he couldn’t put a finger on while he was arresting him. As he was cuffing him, the man seemed as if he was in some kind of daze. And unlike all of the other various criminals he had arrested over the years, this supposed brutal killer was the most complacent of them all.    
     Lloyd pushed him into the back of the cop car as Laurence started it up. Twenty five minutes later they were at the police station. Andrew and Gerald were standing outside. It was around five in the afternoon and it was even colder than how it was when Gerald and Andrew first arrived. The light drizzle that cleared away an hour ago had come back with a vengeance and had transformed the drizzle into a steady rain.  
         The two police men got out of the car and quickly escorted the prisoner to where Andrew and Gerald were standing directly in front of the police station door. They exchanged names as they scurried into the building. 
         “We really appreciate your urgency”, Andrew remarked to the two police men.  
        “Our pleasure,” Laurence replied, “is there anything else that we can assist in?” 
         “Well, I’d like to detain you two here for a short while so that we can ask you several questions after we put this man in prison,” Andrew answered, “and then you’ll need to write a report, but that should be all.” 
       “Okay, sure,” Lloyd, who was holding the prisoner, answered.  
  “If you’d just follow me; I’ll lead you to the holding cells.” 
       After ten steps though, the prisoner they were escorting stopped. He abruptly began violently coughing and shaking. Though he stayed on his feet, he looked like he was about to fall down. He leaned forward facing the ground and blood and spittle flew out of his mouth onto the floor before him. 
     Lloyd worriedly let go of his shaking arms and stepped away from him. He seemed like he was afraid that whatever sickness this murderer was experiencing could be transmitted to him if he was to close.  
      And then, as abruptly as he started, he stopped. 
     The prisoner stood up with blood in his eyes. His juddering and coughing   mysteriously and seemingly miraculously was gone but replacing his former trance like stupor was a focused and alert appearance.  
      He closed his eyes and then he did something most people in that room thought was impossible. It happened in two seconds but Terrance noticed the straining arm muscles of the cuffed man before he snapped his shackles.     
     Everything after that was simultaneous. It all seemed to happen in a blur. The man who just broke the iron fetters from behind his back moved in four, quick, and smooth forethought movements. His first was to move in two fast steps to Lloyd. He did this with such speed that no one saw it coming and that being so; no one was able to respond in any form of applicable action. 
      The second move was to grab the gun straight from Lloyd’s holster. He did this in one swift motion. Empty hand in, hand holding gun out. By the time he had completed the second movement, some of the men with faster reflexes were reacting. Laurence had his hand on his gun by then and Andrew was already drawing out his pistol.  
      The third movement was done faster than the other two. To an onlooker, it would seem that he had previously practiced that move over and over. The killer roughly grabbed the stunned Lloyd’s left shoulder and spun him around, pulling him towards him. While he was doing this Laurence had fully pulled his gun from his holster. Andrew was quicker. He already had his pistol in front of him. And he fired. It was a hurried gunshot so since he wasn’t standing properly, he got jarred back. But the shot did the damage. The bullet hit the criminal just below the right shoulder seconds before he pulled Lloyd in front of him.   
            And then he completed his fourth action. It probably was more difficult to complete than he thought it would be when he planned it, but he did it surprisingly well for just being shot in the shoulder.  
     He raised his bloody right hand, gripping the hand gun tightly in his hand, and placed it’s nuzzle firmly against Lloyd’s head. Despite just being hit, he kept his hand steady and surprisingly firm. He seemed impervious to any of the pain he was experiencing.  
      And then he just glared forward. Not at anyone or anything, just ahead. He completed the four movements and now he had a sure course for escaping. It was almost child’s play now.  
       Order Laurence and Andrew to drop their guns and once they’re on the floor, kick them away. Then he could order Laurence to pass the car keys to Lloyd. After that happened, he would manoeuvre Lloyd through the police station and out into the rain, all the while making sure no one came close to either of them or do anything to stop them. He would get Lloyd to unlock the car and then push him onto the seat parallel to the drivers. Then he would get in, the whole while pointing the pistol at Lloyds head. And then he could drive away. He wouldn’t be able to drive very far with that bullet in him though but he might be able to get far enough before he loses too much blood.  
      He would probably kill Lloyd. He had just killed someone earlier that morning and it didn’t seem like his conscious would stop him from killing again. 
      He could have done that but it didn’t seem to be his plan. Instead, he just stood there. Seconds ticked by that seemed like minutes. Andrew had regained his balance and trained his gun at the killer. Now it was two against one. Except that the one had a human shield. Gerald was feeling extremely out of place. He didn’t even bring a knife to a gunfight. More seconds passed. 
      Andrew knew that with the amount of blood he was loosing, the criminal couldn’t hold out much longer. He slowly walked a single step closer and spoke. 
     “Let go of the man, he said, you don’t want to do this. You are only making your situation worse.” 
     The killer didn’t respond. He continued to stare straight ahead of him, right past Andrew’s shoulder.  
     Andrew kept on speaking. Softly yet firmly. “Come now; put down your gun and we can work this out.” He slowly stepped closer. He was expecting a shout from the criminal telling him to stop moving but nothing happened. He took another small step. Several more feet and he might be able to touch Lloyd. 
      And then the criminal spoke.  
  He seemed as if he was talking to the wall behind Andrew. His voice was surprisingly calm for some one who had just gotten shot. 
      “Quit now Andrew Gray, or more people are going to get killed.” 
    And then everything was confusing again.  
  Lloyd was shoved forward onto the floor. Laurence saw his opening and he fired as soon as his partner was on the floor. His shot hit the right arm in an attempt to get the killer to drop the gun he took from Lloyd. But it didn’t. He noticed it as much as he noticed the first shot. He lifted his wounded arm and fired at the fallen cop in front of him.  
     And then it was just loud noises and blood. Gerald fled the scene. There was no need for him at the moment and he wasn’t in the mood to die at the moment.  
     He dived behind the nearest counter, closely dodging stray bullets. He slid across the floor until he smashed into his place of temporary refuge from the gun shots flying through the room. 
    The shooting continued on for what seemed to be half a minute, and then there was just silence. Gerald waited for almost a minute behind the desk before he got the courage to get up and view the carnage. The sight wasn’t pretty. Blood was everywhere. Lloyd was lying dead on the floor, dead. The criminal was on the floor behind him, riddled with bullets. Gerald counted twelve holes in various parts of his body. He spotted Laurence being helped out of the building. He seemed to have been shot twice in the arm. Unlike the killer’s, Laurence’s face portrayed the extreme pain he was experiencing. 
     Andrew was surprisingly unhurt. At least one of the bullets from the killer’s gun should have hit him. It seemed to be that the murderer purposefully aimed away from Andrew. Either that or Andrew was just really lucky. 
     Gerald watched him. He just stood there, leaning with one arm against a wall. He seemed to be deep in thought.  
     Gerald decided it was time to find a quite spot to do a bit of brain storming. 
   
   
   
   
   Chapter 7.  
   
  Tyron walked down the sunny street that led to the dead man’s cottage. As he came up to it, he noticed that there was a white car parked outside that hadn’t been there before. Andrew and Chevan were walking outside through the front door.  
       “Hey, did the CSI guys get here already, he asked?” 
     “No”, Chevan answered sarcastically, “the car belongs to the delivery boy. Oh no wait, you are the delivery boy! Did you get us what we ordered delivery boy?”  
       “Yes I did, but I don’t think I appreciate your tone very much young lady. Chicken and mayo for you Andrew, and Vegetarian for the Vegetarian”, he said as he tossed the two their sandwiches.  
     The three agents stood underneath the hot Bermudian sun, eating their sandwiches. After about five minutes they were done. Andrew received a call on his cell phone which ensued for about ten minutes.   
         Once he finished, he turned around and faced the other Chevan and Tyron. His expression was extremely serious. 
       And then he explained what he learnt from Gene. 
     First he described to them everything that he was told about what happened with Gerald and Terrance. But he didn’t stop there. He had more to tell them.  
      “Gene says,” He continued, “that over the past few months, there have been four murders in this area of Bermuda. This is very interesting since it is genuinely crime free and the hardly any murders happened besides these four. What is even more fascinating is that all of these murders were done at or around, pharmacies, and each time, items were stolen. I don’t know about you, but I noticed that Albert Guss had a lot of chemicals and pills around his house.” 
      “I mean, he already killed someone. I doubt that he would have much trouble killing other people. What I mainly want to know is that supposing Albert Guss killed all these people, if Henry Downing influenced or had anything to do with these murders.” 
           “If we can find a way to link Henry Downing and these murders, maybe we can find something, some kind of hint or clue, to discover what he had to do with the vanishing of the mineral, if he had any. So far, we might just be chasing a red herring for all we know. Hopefully this is not so, but we don’t really have any solid proof to say otherwise. We’re just working on what we have however. It will take some time still till the Crime Scene Investigators will be able to tell us if they found any physical evidence from the crime scenes, but till then we just have to continue to do what we have been.” 
      “Anyhow, Gene is working on getting all the information she can about those four murders, to see if she can match anything up. If these murders are related to the disappearance of the mineral, then maybe can discover the cause for the vanishing. Once we find the reason, then we will have a better understanding of the situation.” 
   
   
   
   Text: Arthur Limbada All rights reserved. Publication Date: May 22nd 2013 https://www.bookrix.com/-archie.bee.et.al