Chapter 12
Aquatic biologists Jim Francis, and his partner, Mark Lassen, had been piloting the gray one-man submersible called the Deep Rover for many years. They’d used it most often in the oceans, exploring sunken ships, searching for antiquities and lost treasure, but they’d also taken it into deep lakes to recover bodies or evidence that would have been impossible to retrieve any other way.
They’d logged in over fifty rescue missions. Last year they’d been responsible for freeing eight men who’d been trapped in a crippled submarine near the Florida Keys. They’d had to make eight trips, taking turns piloting, and pick up one man at a time; squeeze him in. They’d been in the area, nearby, when the emergency had happened and they’d agreed to help. There hadn’t been time to wait for a larger rescue vessel before the submarine’s life-support systems would have given out. All eight servicemen were alive today because they’d gone down and gotten them.
They were proud of what they did, and were good at it. They enjoyed their wandering life, the excitement, and the good pay. They were professionals.
They often teamed up with police departments or local authorities when their services were needed. But this was only the second time they’d been called in by the National Park Service to be part of an ICS Team. Not much call for a submersible in most parks.
The Deep Rover’s pressurized hull was a sphere, with one viewing port in front and three more ahead and down, at various angles. The external propulsion machinery and other equipment were aft, blocking any possible viewports in the astern direction. In length the sub was twenty-two feet, with fifteen of it consisting of a conical attachment on the seven foot sphere that terminated in a swiveling propeller used for propulsion and steering. The one drawback was the Deep Rover was meant to carry only one person comfortably at a time. He and Lassen took turns going down. The other stayed on shore and monitored the mission with the latest in photographic technology which not only allowed the voyage to be followed up close, but provided a permanent record.
He and Lassen had arrived at Park Headquarters soon after dawn two mornings earlier and the ICS Team leader, Chief Ranger Shore, had given them permission to enter Crater Lake and begin the search. And they did.
They’d been cruising the darkness of the lake’s deepest regions, 1,032 feet beneath the surface, for the last two days. Looking for some huge lake creature everyone said was down there somewhere. A giant animal that reportedly had so far had killed eleven people or more…if any of that tall tale could be believed. But, what the heck, Francis thought as he maneuvered the craft through the underwater world, they were getting highly paid for the wild goose chase, so why not? It was an interesting job. Like treasure hunting…except for something alive. It’d do until he and Lassen could find something better.
Not that he was able to see much of anything beneath the water with the sub’s high-powered floodlights and cameras. It was murky in the lake.
And as of yet…he’d seen nothing unusual. No water monster. Small or large. Nada.
He’d had orders from Ranger Shore not only to locate the so-called creature, if possible, but to get an idea of where it might be hiding or nesting. But he wasn’t to engage the animal in any way and was not to stick around under any circumstances if the creature saw him. He’d been warned to keep as much distance between them as he could because it was hostile to humans.
“Of course it’s hostile to humans, if it attacks, kills and eats them, for God’s sake,” Mark Lassen had pointed out. “According to Ranger Shore this isn’t the Cookie Monster we’re going after, Jim. And, to be truthful, if any of this stuff we’ve been told about the creature is true, I’m not sure we should even be out here.”
In fact, the whole assignment had disturbed Lassen so much he hadn’t wanted to accept it in the first place, but Francis had over ruled him, saying humorously, “Most potential water monsters, imaginary or not, like Nessie, are shy creatures. They don’t want to be on the nightly news or have their pictures taken. They flee, avoid, humanity. I don’t see how this creature could be as dangerous as they say. Something else must have taken those people or killed them. Don’t worry so.” Not that either of them had ever gotten close to any so-called water monster before. Oh, they’d spotted a fin once of some unusual sea inhabitant off the coast of Florida. Another time they’d seen a big blur on their sonar in a deep loch in Sweden. Nothing had been real. Nothing they could have proven existed with concrete evidence. Most “monsters” turned out to be an exceedingly large fish, shark, octopus or whale.
Francis didn’t believe in monsters and viewed each of these hunting expeditions as jokes, although well-paying ones. But Lassen wanted to believe and actually found this particular case intriguing mainly because a ranger and a paleontologist both claimed to have seen the water beast up close. In the flesh. Seen it kill someone.
But Ranger Shore was concerned about the body count; afraid their submersible would be the creature’s next target. Francis had to reassure him that the Deep Rover could out-maneuver or outrun anything in the water. “No matter how fast the animal is,” he said, “we’re faster. The Deep Rover’s too big to eat. Too tough to tear open. She’s equipped with outside television cameras, so we can see everything around us, and she has mechanical arms capable of picking up a dime on the lake’s floor. There’s a direct radio link-up to home base that can be set up on any boat or dock, keeping the sub in touch with the shore no matter where she is. She’s indestructible.
“The only thing our sub is missing is weapons, but we don’t need them. Besides her speed and agility, when the Deep Rover sits immobile on an ocean or lake floor, her color makes her nearly invisible. Most marine creatures we come into contact with think she’s a big rock.
“So, you see, all things considered, we’re safe when we’re in the Rover. Take my word for it.”
Ranger Shore, his face grim, hadn’t been convinced. “I know you think you’ll be safe in your submersible, but let me make this clear. I’m giving you strict instructions not to hang around if you find yourselves in the beast’s path. No matter how much you’ll want to gawk. It’s damn big, damn fast and incredibly sneaky, as unbelievable as that sounds. So don’t. I’m not as sure the beast won’t recognize your sub for what it is and go after it.” Francis knew the ranger had had second thoughts about calling them in, but it’d been the only way of finding the creature’s home. It’d be too risky to send a diving team down.
“For an animal that’d be genius level thinking,” Francis had mocked.
Ranger Shore had replied with a solemn frown. “Then you don’t know this animal. It can think. Strategize. Don’t underestimate it, is all I’m saying.”
Funny thing was, Francis had later mulled over what the man, who didn’t come across as nuts in any other way, had said. Maltin, the paleontologist, hadn’t seemed crazy either. Just leery and a little frightened. Their astounding account of their earlier run-ins with the creature and the other rangers’ healthy caution had made Lassen uneasy; but had made Francis want to search for it even more.
So here they were.
And the Deep Rover dove, hunting for something that probably didn’t exist.
It was when Lassen was in the sub, third day down, that the cave lair was discovered.
Dinosaur Lake Page 27