John Smith and the Ocean Spire

By R G Amaya

Prior to World War III, a researcher developed a weapon known as the MRK-33. It was so devastating that all governments outlawed research, testing, and manufacture of the weapon. However, years after World War III, the United Forces Republic, in their gain for world dominance, researched, tested, and began manufacturing of the weapon at the only place on Earth the World Government couldn’t touch—the Ocean Spire.
Again, the World Government, through the efforts of Senator Koushman, locates and recruits John Smith to infiltrate and determine what’s really going on there. He’s authorized to take any actions necessary against the half mile down underwater complex. Unfortunately, John’s feelings on the subject of the Ocean Spire is to just destroy it and the manufacturing of the dangerous weapons. Then he’s informed of his former wife, Pristine, being held there. Now it’s personal.

• Language: English
• Publisher: R G Amaya
• Release date: Aug 31, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310353376

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John Smith and the Ocean Spire

By R. G. Amaya

Smashwords Edition

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Copyright © 2015 by: R. G. Amaya

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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Table of Contents

CHAPTER 1 – Ladies That Are More Than What They Seem

CHAPTER 2 – Pristine’s in Trouble

CHAPTER 3 – What Is the Ocean Spire?

CHAPTER 4 – Pristine Didn’t Exist

CHAPTER 5 – Getting Inside the Spire

CHAPTER 6 – Interrogation Leads to the Truth

CHAPTER 7 – Finding Friends in Jail

CHAPTER 8 – The Republic Wants Answers

CHAPTER 9 – Time for John to Get Answers

CHAPTER 10 – Escaping 101

CHAPTER 11 – Destroying the Vaults

CHAPTER 12 – Leaving Dome City

CHAPTER 13 – Getting More Than Expected

CHAPTER 14 – Human or Humane

CHAPTER 15 – Just Who Is the Enemy

CHAPTER 16 – Judgment Day

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Chapter 1 – Ladies That Are More Than What They Seem

Sitting at the bar of this dismal establishment for local degenerates and trying to enjoy what they call Sweet Beer in this well-known party town was, and should have been, just another night while I was having work done on Pristine. However, enjoying the night’s entertainment began to look more promising when two very nicely attired women sat down one on either side of me.

Both women were medium height, shoulder length hair, and spoke with sweet voices like angels. They were wearing similar clothing as if they were members of some group and showing off their colors or fashions. Even their complexion and hairstyles were similar. The only real difference was their hair color. The woman to my left had light brown hair, while the other sported a more subtle auburn color. It was obvious these two were not from the local area, as their adornments didn’t fit in with the local decor. Moreover, their mannerisms didn’t quite fit in for being in this hole-in-the-wall bar, even during Festival. Nothing I could put my finger on, just they didn’t seem like they should be there.

As the women became more comfortable sitting on these tattered cushioned bar stools, and with me between them, I couldn’t help wonder why they didn’t ask if I would mind moving down one seat for them to sit together. Alternatively, why they didn’t just go sit at the other end of the bar where there were not only two seats next to each other but there were less people to bother them. Another possibility was this could be my very lucky night. Yes, I knew what it meant to be in Rio de Janeiro during Festival—anything is possible, even for me.

Although the attractiveness of the women was getting my attention, I began noticing the men at the end of the bar as their tone was becoming loud and very nasty towards each other. The squaring-off of two of them was an obvious display of who was going to be right by force. Both men were in their late thirties or early forties, average height and slightly overweight—equal in all rights. Both also appeared to be hard labor types who knew what it meant to work hard and play just as hard. They could beat each other’s brains out and still come up as friends.

A man sitting at a table against the wall near the arguing men and who was not directly involved with their discussion was obviously becoming annoyed with their loudness and decided to take matters into his own hands. He picked up his empty bottle of Sweet Beer and slung it in the direction of the two quarrelers. Immediately, I could commend his ability to throw, as it was excellent and with a great deal of force behind it. However, due to the man’s obvious inebriated state, his aim left a lot to be desired as the bottle’s trajectory missed both men who were less than ten feet from him. Instead, the bottle traversed across the entire room narrowly missing several other patrons and finding its mark against the back of the head of a working-woman. The woman fell over unconscious, and her fake blonde hair began turning red with blood from her now split skull. The man sitting with her rose and began to move towards, whom he believed to be the source of the projectile—the two men who were about to have an altercation of their own.

As the man was sitting, I could tell he was a large man, however, as I watched this mountain of a man rise from his seat, his height cleared over seven feet and his weight at least 550 pounds of muscular build. He started to move across the large room like a freight train on a mission and no tracks to follow.

The argument from the original men had now spread to include many others. Lines were being drawn. Men began choosing which side they were going to back. Pushing and shoving broke out in the original corner. The man traversing the bar to seek revenge on the assault on his would be companion was moving people out of his way as if they were little children instead of full-grown adults.

Another beer bottle was thrown from the original corner by different man and who was apparently oblivious to the impending danger moving towards them. The bottle struck a wall on the far side of the bar. Then another bottle from across the room came rocketing out in retaliation. However, its trajectory towards the original corner was also flawed as it struck the big man on the back of his head. Although, this would have knocked down, if not knocked out, the normal human being, the assault on the mammoth’s head only startled him. The drawback here was that it made him even angrier than before but not with just the original two perpetrators of this soon to be brawl, but with everyone in the establishment. Now he wasn’t just moving people out of his way, he was clearing a path by turning tables and shoving people to other parts of the room. Some he was lifting like small sacks and just tossing them as if they were insignificant to him.

Total bedlam had engulfed the bar with people of one side of the room moving to meet the people of the other side and the big man in the middle of it all. More bottles and now fists were being thrown. People were blaming the big man for causing this dispute, others were blaming the original corner, and yet others didn’t care who started this situation—their intent was just to fight.

The two women sitting beside me weren’t partaking of the brawl and neither was I. However, we had no problem sitting together in total amusement at the goings on. As luck would have it, out location at the bar seemed to be neutral area however our luck was about to run out. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed another bottle being fired only this time it was in our direction. Its trajectory was not going to affect me; however, the auburn haired beauty sitting to my right was not going to fair as well. She turned her head towards the oncoming object and as if fear overcame her entire body, she froze. There was no doubt the bottle was going to find its mark on her forehead.

My arm snapped, my hand flexed, and the missile was frozen in space a mere few inches from her glistening forehead. She gasped and held her breath in sheer fright. Her gaze was fixated on the bottle. As I brought it slowly away from her head and placed it on the bar in front of us, she began breathing once more, although short and rapid breaths.

The unfortunate target slowly moved her eyes from the bottle to the hand that had just grasped it and then followed the arm until she reached my face. In a shaken voice she expressed, Thank you. In an attempt at making herself calm down, she swallowed and then added, That would have ruined my whole day.

Smiling politely, I focused on her and with a touch of sarcasm added, You’re welcome. Besides, beer should be taken internally, not worn externally.

Her breathing slowed and a smile let me know she was becoming more at ease with me. She slowly leaned over to see her friend sitting and looking in amazement of what just transpired, smiled at her, and then the two nodded to each other. She returned her attention to me and continued, What do you say we find somewhere else to enjoy the night before the authorities get here.

Rising to my feet amongst the room filled with chaos, I responded with simply, Let’s. It was then I noticed not just the one woman was standing, but both women were rising to their feet. I thought of how much fun I could have with both of these beauties. Tonight was really going to be my lucky night. I thought to myself I Love Festival.

Carefully we traversed the room avoiding the flying debris and hostile combatants, and quickly passed through the main entrance/exit door as another bottle crashed against it narrowly missing us. The women adjusted their attire of heels, slacks, and mild print tops to display an appearance of respectability and yet commonplace.

Well ladies, I began only to be cut short by the light brown haired woman.

Where is your hotel? she boldly asked.

Thinking this one was very hungry for some action and I was on her menu for tonight, I pointed down the street and said, It’s only three blocks in that direction. They smiled, took me with one on each arm, and we proceeded to walk towards my temporary residence. It didn’t take long for me to realize just how eager these women were since our pace slowly increased from a casual walk to a more brisk one. I believed our pace was increased because they wanted me instead of the oncoming sounds of sirens they might be trying to avoid.

One could say I was being ushered to my hotel. As we walked, I was hoping for a bit of general conversation so I could get to know a little about whom I was going to have the pleasure of being with tonight; however, they began talking with each other. Instead of interrupting them, I listened to their chatter, which seemed a bit odd as they spoke in broken-phrases. The words were definitely English but yet impossible for me to understand.

We reached the hotel’s front doors, and, being a gentleman of sorts, I opened the doors and allowed them to pass before me. After acknowledging the counter clerk, we proceeded to the elevator and reaching the fourth floor, continued to my room, number 426. I unlocked and opened the door. Then, again being a gentleman of sorts, allowed the women to cross over the threshold before me. I followed them inside, closed, and then locked the door behind me. Of course, I didn’t want anyone to interrupt us so I included the Do Not Disturb sign on the outside door handle. I remained by the door and watched the women proceed to the center of the room between the two beds where they turned and faced me. I half expected them to start undressing themselves or each other because of their eagerness to get here.

The room was a basic hotel room where you enter, have closets on the left, bathroom on the right then enter into the main room with two queen sized beds to the right, a monitor screen to the left, and a table with two chairs near the window on the far end of the room.

The auburn haired woman smiled at me and said, Thank you John for helping us at the bar. I’m Katrianat but you can call me Kate.

The other woman wasn’t smiling as much. Even still, she chimed in with a slightly more gruff tone, I’m Gilderaty but you can call me Gildy.

I paused and slowly smiled while looking over the two friendly enchanters. Taking a step from the door and with a soft subtle tone, I inquired, Who are you really? My posture was that of caution and doubt. The use of nicknames or aliases is forbidden by law, unless it was a private pet name between a husband and wife and it would never be used in public or among people you just met.

Both women appeared puzzled, but then again, they too were being cautious. What do you mean? asked Kate. The bad thing was they really didn’t look very surprised when I asked my question. It was almost as if they were expecting it.

With a bit more confidence that these women were more afraid of me than I was of what they were there for, I stepped a little closer to them and with a slightly tilted head, I asked again, I mean just that, who are you really? I let my question sink in again then added, You see, I didn’t give you my name in the bar nor on our way here, and yet, Miss Kate, if that is your real name, you already knew it. Also, unless you enjoy running the risk of your imprisonment, you want me to use pet names for the two you. My tone was getting more and more forceful the longer I spoke. "Additionally, you speak English but in broken-phrases or codes of which both are illegal. Now, since we just met for the first time in the unlikely location such as