Shark Eater

by K D McNiven

  They spent the afternoon looking at a procession of film clips that Lars had taken at the Shipwreck Trail. The shots were amazingly clear. As Decker and Callie could both attest to, there were times that the visibility was less than a foot in front of a person’s face when diving. Lars’s video clips were sharp, and he’d captured the haunting images of shipwrecks now serving as artificial reefs, thriving with marine life.

  After several hours of cutting and splicing, the documentary was beginning to take shape. In another small room, there was a heavyset gray-haired man with a neatly trimmed mustache setting up to record the narration for the film. Two other men were in the room with him; one was a director, the other an audio tech.

  Brae Pascal swept into the room, loaded down with folders and a black leather briefcase tucked under his arm. In one hand, he juggled a cup of coffee trying to keep it from spilling over onto the tiled floor. He managed to make it to the conference table, before dropping the files and grinned because he hadn’t lost a single drop of coffee.

  “Decker. Callie.” He gave Decker a warm embrace and then turned to hug Callie. Brae was a pleasant fellow, looking a bit like Fred Astaire, or at least Callie thought so, with his long legs, and ultra slim body. His graying hair was thin and cropped close to his head. He had a slender nose that was slightly crooked from some basketball injury years earlier and snapping blue eyes filled with vitality.

  “How have you been?” Brae asked, taking a swallow of his now warm coffee.

  “Great,” Decker said. “Yourself?”

  Brae nodded, “Quite good, I must say. I hate rushing you, but I’m pressed for time today. I’d like to interview both you and Callie for the documentary if you’re up to it. You’re well acquainted with the Shipwreck Trail, and I thought you might explain why we promote the preservation of cultural resources—in the water and out. And why we’ve dedicated ourselves to educating the public. We would like our youth to grasp this vision and acquaint them with our new methods of searching the seafloor with side scan sonar, LiDAR, etcetera.”

  Callie’s brows shot upward. “Wow, talk about throwing a curve ball. I didn’t see this coming.”

  Brae laughed. “You’ll do an incredible job. We have a few others we’re interviewing, and I’d like to wrap this up soon as possible. I’m shooting to have it done by the first of next month. I know that doesn’t give us much time, but this is the perfect season to spark interest. Schools are near ready to let out for the summer, kids will be visiting aquatic centers and their interest will be peaked. Timing is everything.”

  “If anyone has the ability to complete a project before schedule, Brae can,” Decker said. “And we’d love to do the interview, right Callie?”

  “Sure.” It was a bit intimidating without prior knowledge and without having a script to direct them. However, as Brae put it, they were well qualified so she couldn’t imagine being asked any questions they didn’t have answers to.

  The narrator met them inside the small room. There were mics hanging from the ceiling to pick up their voices, and Brae seated Decker and Callie on a leather sofa behind the camera, while Lars positioned the lighting throughout the room.

  Behind the sofa was a large framed painting of the HMS Resolution, a sailing vessel used in the explorations of Captain James Cook.

  Decker was quite taken with the painting. He had a deep appreciation for ships and was especially intrigued with schooners built in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. One of his hobbies was putting ship models together. He had one room where nearly every shelf was taken up with sloops and merchant ships. He remembered reading a caption written by Captain Cook about the HMS Resolution. “The fittest for service of any I have seen.”

  Brae saw Decker eyeing the print and said, “A replica of John Cleveley’s painting, ‘The HMS Resolution of Discovery, off Hawaii—awe-inspiring, isn’t it?”

  “Indeed, it is,” agreed Decker. “I have a replica of the HMS Resolution in my study.”

  Hours later, after several tapings, Lars wrapped up the filming. He could see everyone was tired, and especially Decker and Callie after their early flight that morning and the whole day of work.

  “We’re done,” Lars said. “Brae would like to swing by and pick you up for dinner at seven. Does that work for you?”

  “Sounds great,” Decker agreed.

  They had two hours to rest up and shower. Decker found a small pastry shop near the hotel and brought scones and coffee to the room to help curb their hunger until dinner.

  “How do you feel about being a movie star?” Decker asked after taking a sip of coffee.

  “I feel hungry!” They shared a laugh, along with the scones while they waited for Brae.

  If nothing else, Brae was prompt. It was exactly seven o’clock when he pulled his silver Mercedes to the front entrance to pick up Decker and Callie. They slid into the car and sank into soft leather seats. Lars was already up front with Brae.

  “I had looked at some of the film from today,” Brae said. “I’m quite impressed with the interview.”

  “Thank you,” Callie said, happy he found it to his liking. “Not too bad for our first movie debut.”

  “You two are naturals. Wouldn’t have expected anything less than the best from you,” Brae complimented again. “Wonderful to have pros working with me on this, that’s why I’m confident we’ll have this documentary wrapped up on schedule, if not before.”

  The car pulled into the parking lot of Phaethon Oyster Grill. A high-end restaurant and nightclub Brae frequented. He informed them they’d never find a better steak or seafood in all of Florida. Once seated, Brae ordered a round of drinks for everyone while they looked over the menus.

  Decker ordered the 14-ounce New York strip topped with glazed prawns and onion rings, served with rosemary potatoes, and steamed vegetables. His stomach was growling anticipating the Blackened Tenderloin strips, and Calamari Fries Brae ordered for hors d'oeuvres. Callie decided on the Wild Mushroom Ravioli with braised greens, pine nuts, and sun-dried tomatoes. And Brae and Lars went for the double-cut pork chops, drizzled with a red wine reduction sauce, and heaped with caramelized onions.

  “So, you think we can pull this project together by the end of the month?” Lars said, taking a drink from his Dogfish Head IPA beer and turning to face Brae.

  “I do,” he replied confidently. “I’m astounded how everything is falling into place. And Leland Gettles has done a spectacular job narrating. Also, the interviews we’ve gotten so far have been over-the-top.”

  “How long will you need us to stay on?” Decker asked.

  Brae thought for a moment, then replied, “Another couple of days at the most. I’m hoping to finish up our videotaping, though we have one more interview. Correct Lars?”

  “Yup.”

  “We’ll take on editing tomorrow and lay out the clips in sequential order and begin putting it together. From what I’ve seen so far, I believe it has the power-punch I’m looking for. My directive is to make it a dynamic educational tool for our audiences.”

  CHAPTER 4

  St. Marks, Florida

  When the dinghy brought Dax and Karina to the docks at Shield’s Marina in St. Marks, there was a police car waiting for them. They marched their two captives along the dock, hands bound behind them. Both were in fair shape after the ruckus, but they sported a couple shiners and some broken fingers. Dax would be happy to pass them off and get back to business.

  Dax made the decision to come to Tallahassee to apply for a grant from the Oceanic Cultural Heritage Institute. All he had thought about since they had disembarked was going back to the Atlantic to explore the sunken ship. This would be their most impressive discovery, should it turn out to be a Spanish galleon. He only hoped he could persuade the center to go the distance with him.

  They were almost to the police vehicle, where two officers were stepping forward to take charge of the captives when a shot sang past Dax’s head. He and Karina scrunched down, no
t knowing where the shooter was located and unfortunately, they were vulnerable in the open parking area. Several more shots whizzed past their ears.

  Having been taken off guard by the abrupt onslaught of gunfire, one of the officers was struck and went down clutching his stomach while the other officer ducked behind the car.

  Another sweep of bullets showered the area, striking the police vehicle’s hood and fenders. The peeling back of metal resounded through the air. There was nothing Dax could do but release the two men and head for cover. To his left were some wooden crates and grabbing Karina’s hand, he dragged her behind them. He plucked his Glock 26 Gen 3 9mm handgun from it holster, desperately trying to discern where the shots were coming from. He could hear people screaming as they scattered in the parking lot, running for shelter.

  The other officer stood to fire a round and was thrown backward taking a shot to his groin and another to his throat. Both officers lay in a pool of crimson blood. Karina screamed and ducked down behind Dax, an icy-chill running along her spine. The two prisoners seeing their opportunity ran toward the gunfire. It had grown evident that whoever was shooting at them, had intentions of freeing the two pirates.

  An intermittent surge of gunfire erupted around them, splintering the nearby wooden crates. With the officers eliminated, the shooters turned their focus on Dax and Karina, hell-bent on taking them out as well.

  The air was charged with confusion. “Listen, Kat,” Dax said with urgency, “we need to make a run for the police car. Keep low and follow behind me.”

  “What?” Surely, she hadn’t heard him correctly? If they stepped out from behind the boxes shielding them they’d be mowed down, just like the policemen, she thought wildly. Fear knifed through her, and she felt nauseous.

  “No time for discussion, Kat!” He grasped her hand tightly and pulled her along behind him, shooting off multiple rounds of ammunition in the direction of a small storehouse where the assailants were apparently hiding. Within seconds they reached the vehicle. “Climb in!” he shouted.

  Dax took a moment to feel for a pulse, but neither of the two officers appeared to be alive. He gritted his teeth as anger surged through him like an electrical current. These were ruthless, cold-blooded killers and if Dax didn’t find a way out of there immediately, they’d find themselves lying next to the dead officers. He thrust Kat into the driver’s seat first, then scrambled in behind her to take the wheel.

  Thankfully, the keys were still in the vehicle, and as he turned the key, the engine roared. He threw the car into gear and stomped on the gas pedal. The car spun in a circle with a loud scream. A black cloud of smoke barreled around them as the tires burned against the asphalt. He saw the men running from their hiding place towards a black sedan, a shower of bullets raining down on them.

  “Stay down, Kat!” he yelled, peeling out of the parking lot. He reached into his pocket and tossed her his cell phone. “Call 911. Tell them what’s happening. We don’t need the police shooting at us as well.”

  He glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the sedan coming up fast behind them. He turned on the siren and lights to draw as much attention as possible hoping to shake them from his tail, but they continued their pursuit.

  Karina’s hands were trembling so badly she wasn’t sure if she could punch in the right numbers and was relieved when the dispatcher answered. She hurriedly poured out the deadly scenario, her voice cracking with terror. When she finished the call, she looked helplessly at Dax. “Why are they still following us? They have their friends now.”

  He gave a quick side glance. “Because we’re witnesses, Kat. We can identify the two men who got away.”

  Dax flew up Tallahassee Avenue at a speed of ninety-five miles per hour, thankful for the flashing lights that had people pulling over to avoid a collision. Turning onto Shell Island Road, he accelerated even more, tires squealing as they made the turn, the backend fishtailing. It was then they both decided they’d best buckle themselves in.

  The sedan closed the distance and struck the back end of the police car with a thud. The car shuddered, and Dax fought to keep control. One of the men in the sedan leaned out of the passenger side and shot off another sweep of bullets. Glass crumbled across the back seat, followed by a loud scrape as the bumper loosed from the vehicle and struck the pavement and flew through the air.

  “Keep low Kat,” he told her. In the distance, he could hear the sound of sirens heading their direction. He only hoped they’d make it there before it was too late.

  They sped through the walls of green forest toward Shell Island Resort. Dax was unfamiliar with St. Marks and had no idea what they were heading into. His biggest concern was to keep innocent people and themselves from being killed in this whole fiasco. He pushed the pedal to the floor, now speeding at one-hundred miles per hour, but was unable to distance them.

  “Kat,” he said in a calm voice. “Take my gun. Turn around and shoot. Aim for the front window of their vehicle.”

  Her eyes rounded. “But…”

  “Kat, I need you to do this. Take a deep breath. Turn and fire!”

  Her hand clasped the cold steel. Inhaling deeply, she unfastened her belt, turned in the seat, aimed at the front window of the pursuing car, and squeezed the trigger. The blast inside the car was deafening as the gun discharged and relief swept over her when she saw she had hit the target. The sedan swerved and then veered off the road onto a grassy knoll. She saw its wheels spinning as they gunned the engine. Chunks of turf were flung into the air as it fishtailed its way back onto the highway. Dax managed to put some space between them, but it wasn’t long before the sedan was nearly on top of them again.

  Taking a sharp corner Dax lost control of the cruiser, and it spun out, but to his relief, the car did not flip. The sedan rammed into the side of the police car, throwing Kat across the vehicle into Dax. Pain shot through her body.

  Dax slammed the accelerator to the floor. The side door was now hanging askew and was dragged against the road, sparks flying like a fireworks celebration. As he sped forward, the door of the police car dislodged completely and was pitched with jack hammer intensity through the front window of the sedan. Though he couldn’t be sure, Dax thought it would’ve been near impossible for the driver to escape the violent blow. The sedan veered off the highway and came to a jarring halt in a ditch.

  In the distance, they could see the flashing lights of the police. Three men managed to stumble out of the vehicle and run towards the woods. That was when Dax came to a stop and turned to Karina to make sure she was holding up. She was more than a little shaken and had a couple of small cuts on her face, but she appeared to be managing physically. Emotionally, she was a wreck. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. Dax cradled her until two policemen, their guns drawn, rushed to the side of the car. They motioned for them to step out, taking every precaution to make sure they were the ones who had called.

  Shaky from adrenaline, Dax and Karina carefully withdrew their identifications and handed them over to the police officers. With deliberation, the officers checked out their story, and when satisfied that they were telling the truth, the policemen put their guns back into their holsters.

  Police cars and ambulances pulled in around them in all directions, their lights flashing. Car doors flung open as the police and SWAT teams surged from their vehicles. They headed out into the thick forest, guns at ready, searching for the men from the black sedan. Above, a helicopter circled, trying to locate the men from the air.

  “By the looks of things, you two are lucky to be alive,” one of the officers said. “The EMTs will take you to the hospital to be checked out.”

  “I’m fine,” Karina assured him and looked over at Dax with questioning eyes.

  “A bit shaken is all,” he said. “We’re terribly sorry about the officers who were killed. I wish we could have done something.”

  “You said you think the attackers are pirates?” the officer asked.

  “A speedboat ch
ased us down and tried to overtake us outside of Miami,” Dax explained. “We had two of them held until we got back to shore. I guess the two were important enough that they wanted them back.”

  “I’ll take you to headquarters,” the officer said. “You can make out a report and give their descriptions. I want them off the streets before they kill someone else.” He stopped briefly before the police car Dax had been driving and raised his eye brows. “Guess I better call a tow truck. This squad car is scrap metal now.”

  The questions and paperwork took more than two hours, and both Dax and Karina were beyond exhausted. In the meantime, Dax called for a rental car so they could drive back to Tallahassee. He’d find them a room for the night and then finish his business in the morning.

  Driving to Tallahassee, Dax found a room near the Oceanic Cultural Heritage Institute. Karina was slumped against the window sleeping. They’d grabbed a quick dinner outside the city at a small mom-and-pop restaurant, though neither of them had much of an appetite. And both were shaken by the officers’ deaths. It wouldn’t be an incident either of them would soon forget.

  Gently, he reached over to give her shoulder a shake to rouse her. She blinked a couple of times, taking a moment to remember where they were.

  She pushed herself upright and smiled wearily at Dax. “Thanks for keeping us safe today,” she told him. “It could have been the end of both of our lives.”

  “No problem and don’t forget it was you who helped to save our butts today. We’ve had one heck of a week, eh, Kat?”

  “You can say that again. I think a few boring days would be worth having about now.”

  “Let’s check in. We could use a good night’s sleep. We’ll both feel much better in the morning.”

  Karina slipped her arms into the light sweater she’d balled up to make a pillow for her head. There was a chill in the air as well as in her body. The week seemed almost surreal as she reflected on everything they had dealt with. Her life had always seemed quite peaceable, but that had changed dramatically. She was thankful that Dax had used his quick wit to see them out of the harrowing situation.