SECOND SON
by Teresa
CHAPTER TWO
After Bridger had left the institute, he immediately made his way back to the place he was staying at. He couldn’t travel all the way back to the island because it was just too far. So he’d left Michael with the trusty sitter and rented out a hotel room in the city. Now, he sat comfortably on the bed of the nicely furnished room and began making arrangements to meet Eltherington. After dialling the number he fully expected to get an answering machine. Because he assumed that someone that he wished to speak to so urgently would have to be busy, he was surprised when a male voice answered the phone.
“Hello, who’s speaking?” the voice asked.
The familiarity of the voice took Nathan’s breath away, so much, in fact, that if his thoughts hadn’t been so completely pre-occupied with his son’s disappearance, he could have sworn that the man on who answered the phone was Robert.
“Hello?” the man persisted.
Nathan searched for his voice, shaking himself out of his numbness, “Uh…hello, I would like to speak to Jack Eltherington.”
“Yes, speaking. Who’s this?”
“Sorry, I’m just a reporter. I want to ask you a few questions about some seemingly highly classified, unidentified documents that came into the hands of a small time newspaper…”
“Oh, no,” the man’s voice was definite, “No journalists, sorry I can’t help you.” He then immediately hung up without waiting for a reply.
Nathan was confused. Why would the man deny being involved in a perfectly valid investigation? Then he realised, Eltherington was likely to be working for a government agency. There was no way he could be a layperson inquiring about information like that, it just wouldn’t add up. Nathan cursed himself for assuming that the man was probably just another reporter. He was beginning to realise that working with things that were personal really did affect his judgement, no matter how professional he thought he was. Nathan wondered what to do next. He couldn’t let this man go. He was the only lead he had. There was only one thing left to do. He had to call back.
He swallowed his pride and took a deep breath, before dialling the number.
This time the phone rang for a little longer before it was answered. Eltherington picked up the phone. “Hello, who’s speaking?"
“Listen, I’m sorry about before,” Nathan began hurriedly, “But I need your help. I’m looking for my son. I need to know if you know anything about Robert Bridger.”
There was a long pause on the other end. Nathan began to wonder if the man was still there.
Then came the reply, “Who?”
“Robert Bridger,” Nathan repeated patiently.
“Who are you?” the question was close to abrupt and Nathan had wondered if he had approached this the wrong way again.
“My name is Nathan Bridger.”
“Nathan Bridger is an officer of the UEO navy, not a reporter,” the man sounded extremely stern, “now tell me your real name or I’ll have this call traced and you’ll be prosecuted for spying.”
‘Oh my God, how the hell does he know who I am?’ Nathan decided that this confirmed that this guy was definitely working for the government, and his work was obviously really important.
“My real name is Nathan Bridger, but I’m retired from the navy. I’m not a reporter. I just need to speak with you. I can even provide you with identification.”
The man was silent. “Where are you?” he asked finally.
Nathan was surprised but relieved. I’m in the town of North Terrace.
“Alright, I want you to go to the cities mall and find Joey’s central café. Bring your identification. Ask for Bert and you’ll find out where to meet me. See you in about half an hour.” At this, Eltherington hung up the phone.
Nathan was left holding the phone with his eyebrows almost touching his hairline. ‘That sounded like dialogue from a spy movie. Definitely an agent of the government,’ he thought, shaking his head as he put down the receiver.
***
Meanwhile, back on the Seaquest, Hudson was sitting at his table waiting impatiently for Wolenczak’s report on the paper work he’d given him. He’d called the officer twice already to come to his office and their had been no response. Looking at the clock in frustration, he decided to try another tactic.
“Commander Ford, have you seen Ensign Wolenczak?” he asked after he’d dialled up the bridge.
“Uh, no sir, not since he spoke with you last,” Commander Ford’s voice, replied over the com-link. There was a pause, before he asked with concern, “He’s not answering the call, sir?”
“No, he hasn’t arrived at my office. I was just wondering if he’d made a mistake and gone to the bridge.”
“Do you think something’s wrong, sir?”
“I don’t know, but I really need those reports,” Hudson replied, obviously moody and preoccupied, “Can you set up a search for him? He can’t have gone too far.”
“Yes, sir” Ford replied a little more concerned.
Commander Ford cut the communication and turned to a Lieutenant that we’ve never seen before, “Unwin, I need you to set a small search party for Ensign Wolenczak. It seems that he won’t answer the ship wide calls.”
“Yes, sir,” the man answered, rising from his station to carry out the order.
Commander Ford turned back to his work with a bewildered look on his face.
***
Nathan Bridger made his way down the unfamiliar street. He’d resisted the urge to catch a taxi in the fear that he may get dropped off at the wrong place. He was now realising how stupid that was. Nathan was seriously looking forward to the professionalism of the Seaquest’s assistance while at the same time becoming really concerned of what his former crew would think of him if they saw how many stupid mistakes he was making. He turned right into the open air, street-wide mall. He couldn’t see right to the other end, even though the mall was a completely straight right down to the end, due to sheer amount of stalls and people that crowded the public place.
Unsure on the how far away his destination was, he picked up his pace so he wouldn’t be too late. He passed a small looking shop called ‘Joey’s downtown café’ and assumed that the central café that Eltherington had referred to was further up. He felt the weight on his chest relax with relief knowing that he was headed in the right direction and began to observe the small shops and big-name eateries such as McDonalds and Pizza Hut.
After not long, he reached his destination. ‘Joey’s Central Café’ was a small but upper class looking cafe, which looked almost like a clone of the one downtown. Nathan confidently walked over through the entrance and stood by the counter.
“Can I help you?” a neatly groomed young woman wearing a white waitress blouse and a black apron addressed him.
“Hi,” Nathan couldn’t help but smile at the pleasant young girl, “ I’m after Bert, please.”
The girl looked at him a little bewildered, “Bert?” she asked hesitantly.
It was obvious to Nathan that she had no idea what he was talking about. He became concerned and embarrassed, wondering if the whole thing had been a hoax to get him to leave Eltherington alone. Before he could respond, however, a voice cut through their conversation.
“Your after Bert, sir?” a man, probably in his mid-twenties, dressed in similar attire to the girl strolled over to Bridger from around the counter before turning back to the girl, “It’s alright, Katrina, I’ve got it.”
The girl nodded and went back to looking busy. Nathan turned the man and smiled, “Yes, are you..?”
“No,” the man cut him off, “I know who you are. Bert will be with you shortly.”
As Nathan nodded his response, the man walked back behind the counter and poked his head around a corner, conversing with someone. He turned back to Bridger and acknowledged his presence with a nod before disappearing completely behind the ‘staff only’ door. Moments later a small woman in her early thirties came out from behind the same opening and made her way over to Nathan.
“Nathan Bridger?” she addressed him.
“Yes,” He answered, wondering if this was the ‘Bert’ he was told to meet.
“I understand you have identification?” she was very polite and pleasant but serious.
“Oh, yes,” Nathan replied fumbling through his pockets and revealed various forms of photo id, including his UEO issued naval identification, “Are you Bert?” he asked, feeling incredibly self-conscious and ridiculous.
The women smiled as she looked carefully at the cards he was handing her, “We knew what you meant when you asked for Bert,” she said, “I’ll just need to verify these,” the woman informed him, looking up briefly and moving back to the counter. Nathan followed behind her for the short distance and watched as she ran hand held scanners across his cards to ensure that they weren’t fake. The scanners had been introduced into licensed café’s since 2017 to check the identification of youngsters who ordered alcoholic drinks. These days fake ID's were virtually impossible to pull off. When she’d finished she handed the cards back to Bridger with a smile and then took a pen and quickly scribbled something down on a piece of scrap paper. Folding it up before anyone could see what was written on it, she handed it to Bridger.
“Get a move on,” she said as Nathan took the paper from her, “if you’re late, he’ll be gone.”
Nathan nodded his thanks and wasted no time leaving the café. He barely stopped as he unfolded the paper and read the scrappy handwriting on it. It read: ‘Bus stop 51 Terrace to Silver Creek departs 3:12pm’. Nathan looked at his watch that said it was five past. Unsure of whether his time matched Eltherington’s or the Bus timetable he quickened his pace and made his way over to the street where he was sure to find the nearest bus stop, hoping to be directed to number 51.
***
The Seaquest officers moved around the bridge in their usual busy activity as Captain Hudson made his way through the metal doors.
“Any word, Mr. Ford?” Hudson asked expectantly.
Ford turned around with a very confused and concerned look on his face. “Sir, Unwin has just informed me that Lucas is nowhere to be found, but the papers that you needed, sir,” Ford paused, trying to understand the information himself before giving it to Hudson, “the papers were found down near the shuttle bay section four - scattered all over the floor, sir.”
Hudson’s eyes narrowed and he cocked his head in confusion, “Scattered over the floor, Commander?” the Captain’s voice was bewildered but demanding, “Your saying that it appears he was abducted?”
“Well, not necessarily, sir but these are all the facts we have,” the commander’s facial expressions were hard and very serious.
“But he can’t have been removed from the boat, Commander,” Hudson’s voice remained tactful, but unnecessarily informative, “This is a the UEO’s finest naval vessel. Our security systems wouldn’t allow an unauthorised exit of a shuttle craft.”
“But they did, sir,” O’Neill’s voice cut through their conversation, “I’ve just detected the absence of one of our vessels, sir. It’s estimated that it departed approximately one hour ago.”
“Why the hell didn’t it detect it an hour ago?” Hudson yelled, “You should have been aware the second it departed!”
“This wasn’t my fault, sir,” Tim remained completely calm and professional throughout the Captain’s verbal assault, “It looks like someone put a worm through our systems just before the unauthorised departure. It targeted and area of our systems that was so small it wasn’t detected until a few moments ago.”
When Tim looked up the Captain had calmed down and Commander Ford was standing beside him with a horrified look on his face.
“So he was abducted,” Commander Ford said quietly trying to comprehend the fact that someone had so easily passed through the security.
“Ensign Wolenczak’s safety and whereabouts is not our first concern at the moment,” Hudson’s voice was loud and clear, “This is wartime, gentlemen. Security breaches like this are of extreme concern. I want a full security check of the entire boat, with particular focus on the area targeted. I don’t want scapegoats, theories without evidence or any more breaches of the system. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Commander Ford replied.
“Understood, sir,” O’Neill could not bring himself to agree that Captain Hudson would not scapegoat.
Hudson nodded and briskly left the bridge. Ford and O’Neill exchanged concerned glances.
“We can’t afford to worry until we know anything,” Ford told Tim, “He’ll be okay, we’ll find him.”
Tim nodded his thanks, “I know,” he said. Jonathan knew that Tim was the crewmember who would perform best under emotionally extenuating circumstances. Although he wasn’t as militarised as Hudson would like, he wouldn’t let his emotions get in the way of doing a good job. He just hoped that they fixed the problem before they had to dock in North Terrace.*
Lucas’ eyes felt sore and itchy. The warmth of the air brought attention to his uncomfortable position where he lay on his side with his hands wrapped together tightly behind him with duct tape. The perspiration on his face hadn’t loosened the tape on his mouth, and he was forced him to breath through his nose. One of the men who had abducted him from Seaquest moved over to him and lifted him up from the floor. Remembering the viscous shocking he’d received during his trip, and not seeing any real necessity to struggle, Lucas decided to comply.
On his exit from the shuttle Lucas realised that he’d been taken to what looked like a communications base. He’d gathered that from the unusual amount of technical equipment that surrounded him. Masses of ununiformed men and women confused him, as the civilian clothing gave no clue for him to identify who they were or where he was, let alone their intentions.
He was led quickly through a number of twists and turns, which successfully disorientated him before he was pushed through a door and into a room. The room was about the size of a bedroom. With his back to the door that he had entered, Lucas noticed that there was another door in the centre of the wall on his left. A large conference table sat in the centre of the room surrounded by chairs. There was another chair that sat on its own the left hand corner of the room. The door closed behind him and the man who had dragged him through the maze grabbed his shoulders and cut the duct tape that secured his hands before releasing him. Lucas brought his hands around in front of him and pulled off gag and the remaining tape on his hands. He turned around to face his captor.
“What do you want?” he demanded, knowing that this was violating his rights.
The large man stared at him without answering. Before Lucas could repeat himself, the other door opened and three men neatly dressed in suits and ties entered the room. They all appeared to be around the same age of about late thirties, possibly early forties. Lucas spun around at the noise.
“Who are you?” he demanded, “Why am I here?”
“Mr. Wolenczak, sit down,” one the men answered. The man that spoke had sandy coloured hair with a reseeding hairline. Although his accent was the same as Lucas’ he had a presence about him which distinctly reminded Lucas of almost every master mind criminal that he had come into contact with since he’d come aboard Seaquest.
Lucas took in a deep breath, “I want to know want I’m doing here,” the young man spoke in his distinctly deep and defiant voice.
Lucas felt a vicious blow into the small of his back. He jerked his head up as he cried out before falling to his knees. He grunted weakly as he hit the floor. Before he could recover from the pain, the man who had escorted Lucas to the room grabbed him by the arm and hauled him over to a chair that faced the three men across the table.
“Lucas,” the man with the sandy hair addressed him again, “we are here to assess how co-operative you will be during your stay with us. We need to know how much security we will need for you and whether or not we need to restrain you or leave you free to wonder about in your cell.”
Lucas was beginning to panic. “You have no right to do this,” the fear was evident in his voice, “ You can’t keep me hear. LET ME GO!”
The large man grabbed a hold of Lucas to restrain him and almost immediately applied a small tazor to Lucas’ neck. Lucas let out a shrill scream of pain. And continued to struggle. The man hauled Lucas from the chair and struck him hard in the stomach, once, twice. Lucas grunted as the wind was knocked out of him and crumpled to the floor. The man pulled out a larger stun from his jacket and shocked Lucas in the back for four long seconds. Lucas writhed under the electricity but made no sound before he lost consciousness.
The three men stood calmly as the large man placed his batten back into his pocket.
“Restrain him,” the sandy haired man said, “Give him a blindfold this time too.”
The large man nodded. At this, the three men left the room.
***
Nathan checked his watch as he waited by the side of the road next to the bus stop number 51 as a bus stopped beside the sign, the doors opened and passengers began to get off. Bridger moved over to the front of the bus to take a look at the front of the bus that flashed its destination. Just as he moved around to check that it was the correct bus he was looking for he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to see who it was. What he saw caused him to gasp in shock.
“Oh my God,” he whispered. Just then his knees gave way and the man had to grab a hold of him so he didn’t collapse. Their gaze locked and the man tightened his grip on Nathan’s arms. Together they shook as they both slowly sunk to the ground.
“Oh my God,” the younger man repeated Nathan’s words as he stared at him, “Dad.”