The Breach

by Edward J. McFadden III

  Beth waved from the tower as he approached and Tanner waved back. Randy waited under the open bay door. “You sleep well, little boy?” he said. “I saw you and Jefferson hung tight most of the night. Has the great iceberg thawed?”

  “No global warming yet, but she’s coming around.”

  “What’s the plan today?”

  “We’re going to meet up with Jefferson and the coasties, and put together another search grid on the inner bay.”

  Randy made a face Tanner had seen many times. He looked like he was working to push out a turd. “Tanner, I’ve been think—”

  “I know.”

  “Are you sure you’re up for this, boss? You look like you’ve been run hard and put away wet.”

  “What are you trying to say?”

  “You’ve been hitting the sauce a bit too much lately and—”

  “Who the hell are you? My mom? I didn’t realize you were watching me.”

  “It’s hard not to notice. You’ve—”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know. I just don’t like seeing you like this,” Randy said.

  “Bullshit.”

  “Bullshit? What’s bullshit is you putting me and others in danger because you’re off your game.”

  Tanner stepped forward until he was inches from Randy. “What is this? An intervention?”

  “Do you need one?”

  Tanner stabbed Randy in the chest with his index finger, but the younger man grabbed Tanner’s arm, twisted it behind his back, and shoved him through the open bay door and out of sight. “Have you lost your mind? Are you drunk right now?” Randy said.

  “No.” Tanner was exhausted all of sudden and he couldn’t believe he’d let his rage take over. “I’m sorry.”

  “Forget it. What’re we gonna do if we do find this thing? I mean, we haven’t fared very well in our first couple of meetings,” Randy said.

  “We’re gonna kill it,” Tanner said. “Come with me.”

  They entered the heart of the station and made their way to the second-floor storage room and armory locker. Tanner looked around, but didn’t see what he was after. “Randy, where are those large harpoons we confiscated from those fishermen trying to spear that mink whale in the inlet last year?”

  “They’re in evidence,” Randy replied.

  “At central? Shit.”

  “No worries, boss, there’s a bunch of them stacked with the other fishing gear downstairs. We have four or five of them, and a couple are bigger than the ones you’re thinking of.”

  “Excellent. Get them and load them on your twenty-two. Take LS with you. He has to start following orders from people other than me. Oh, and start thinking about chum.”

  “Nate, I was hoping for a plan that didn’t involve a weapon used five hundred years ago.”

  “I’m open to suggestions.”

  “I know a guy in the Army Reserves. I could ask for a high-caliber machine gun to mount on the front of Big Boy.”

  Tanner smiled. “That’s why you’re in charge. Do it. Fast as possible.”

  “10-4,” Randy said. “Let’s go, LS.”

  The dog looked at Tanner, and he said, “It’s OK. You go with him.” He pointed at Randy. LS hung his head, but obeyed. Tanner loaded up on ammo and grabbed two extra shotguns, but Randy’s words bounced around inside his head like a criticism you don’t want to believe, but know is true. Bullets had done little good, but Tanner kept telling himself they’d been surprised, caught off guard. Now they understood what they were up against, and could fight smart, find weak spots. He’d seen The Hobbit. He knew how they killed Smaug.

  Smaug was the nickname the press had given the sea scorpion. Some child had asked on live TV if the creature in the bay looked like the dragon in that movie, and the reporter had said, “Do you mean Smaug?” The nickname stuck. With the word out, the police were hard-pressed to keep people from monster watching along the shore. The coasties and local fire rescue boats had stopped forty-three civilians from going out overnight. The natives were getting restless, and before long, he’d have fishermen out trying to catch the thing.

  The wail of the station alarm rang out and Randy ran to the control tower. “What’s up, Beth?”

  “We got a sighting over on Carey Beach. Group of kids trying to see the creature. One of the kids got nabbed.”

  “Oh, shit,” Tanner said.

  When he arrived at the dock with the guns and ammo, Randy already had the boat’s engines going, and the twenty-two-foot SAFE boat was untied and turned toward the canal. LS sat in the command chair behind Randy, unimpressed by the chaos. Tanner jumped aboard, and within three minutes of the alarm sounding, they were skipping across the bay toward Sapphire Point, which was the next town over from Stones Throw.

  Randy had the motors pushing at full, and a thirty-foot fishtail jetted from the back of the boat. They barely felt the chop because the boat hardly touched the water. There were no birds in the clear sky, and no fish leapt from the green water. The air smelled fresh and salty, and Tanner sucked it in as though it were the scent of his mother’s cooking.

  Randy arced the boat toward shore and backed down the engines as he roared across the entrance to Carey Creek. The scene was bedlam as the small cove created by the pier exploded in a mountain of whitewater. The creature was half in the bay and half on the beach. Tanner pulled binoculars to his eyes and gasped.

  A human torso was stuck on the black spike as it hovered above the scorpion’s back, the beach covered in blood. Tanner gagged when he saw a severed head resting next to a large piece of driftwood. A crowd of kids stood by the beach’s concession stand, huddled under an overhang, yelling and screaming at the monster. “Run!” Tanner shouted at them. “What the hell are you waiting for?”

  LS barked and flew from his resting place. Tanner slid open the pilothouse door and he and LS ran to the bow. The dog jumped and put his paws on the gunnel and barked at the creature.

  Randy cut the engines and the SAFE boat bobbed to a stop. A girl crawled across the beach, leaving a trail of blood behind her. The scorpion’s large front claws were snapping at her, trying to pull her into its tooth-filled maw. Tanner pulled his Glock and fired. The bullets bounced off the creature’s shell and it didn’t even appear to notice.

  “Get me closer,” Tanner yelled.

  Randy engaged the engines and the boat slid forward into the erupting sea. Tanner grabbed one of the long harpoons and braced himself against the gunnel. They were fifty yards off shore when the monster breached, the spike with the body on it flying past in the maelstrom. The monster thrashed, its claws reaching for the girl as she continued her desperate crawl across the beach. She’d made little progress and soon the sea scorpion would have her.

  Tanner squeezed the talk button and spoke into the walkie clipped to his life preserver. “Randy, you need to give me a better angle. Bullets won’t do shit on its back. I need to get a shot at the belly of this bitch, or front or side at least.”

  “10-4. Buckle-up.” Randy dropped the hammer and the SAFE boat leapt from the water. He pulled around the side of the beast and rammed it. The bay surged and whitewater cascaded over the gunnel.

  Tanner lifted the harpoon and held it at the ready. LS barked hard, his little black eyes bulging from their sockets, saliva dripping over his bared teeth. In the distance, the thunder of rotors brought the hope of air support. The leviathan rolled and Tanner loosed the harpoon. It struck home, sticking in the side of the scorpion as it thrashed, but the victory didn’t last long.

  A pincer claw from the creature’s underbelly snapped the harpoon off at the tip like it was a toothpick and the beast flopped over, trying to crush the SAFE boat.

  Randy was faster. He threw the engines in reverse and water exploded behind the boat. The vessel eased back from the creature, heading away from shore toward deeper water.

  The boat was almost free when the scorpion tossed itself backward, and its right claw clamped down on the SAFE boat’
s blue inflated pontoon, crushing it. As the section went flat, the claw bit into the hull below. When the pincer released, readying for another power crunch, the boat’s backward momentum pulled the vessel free. Randy eased back on the throttle and spun the wheel as fast as he could, then gunned the engines.

  The sea flattened for a heartbeat, then a fist of water lifted from the bay behind the boat. Tanner saw the girl on the beach was getting help from her friends. A stream of water flowed into the boat from the gash the scorpion’s claw had made, and Tanner didn’t think the bilge pumps could keep up for long. A section of the bow was deflated, and bay water poured through the gap.

  Lucky-shit barked at the knot of green water that trailed after them.

  10

  The engines sang as the twin props dug through the bay, but the mound of water behind them was gaining. Tanner stood in six inches of water, and as the SAFE boat swamped it slowed. LS sat in the captain’s chair in the pilothouse with Randy, and Tanner crouched behind the aft gunnel with a shotgun, peering into the mist kicked up by their passage. Two harpoons lay on the deck beside him. He needed hand grenades, and that thought gave him an idea.

  Tanner ran to the pilothouse. “Randy, do we have any gasoline accessible?”

  “Nope. Only what’s in the tank and if we were stopped, I might siphon you some, but at thirty knots that ain’t happening.” Randy looked at him. “I know what you’re thinking, and we don’t have any bottles or jars. I’m way ahead of you.”

  “Maybe you should take command,” Tanner said, and he meant it.

  “Knowing how to blow shit up is no skill,” Randy replied. “Get back out there, that thing’s right on our ass. Put a few rounds of buckshot into its face.”

  Tanner sloshed through the rising water and made his way aft, jumped onto the transom, and put the shotgun to his shoulder. Helicopters were attending to the injured, and backup was nowhere in sight. The boat jumped and bounced through the boiling sea and the tip of the gun barrel moved in a tight circle as he strained to aim the weapon. The familiar scent of rot polluted the air, and the creature sang its squeaky hymn.

  The beast was almost upon them, and the SAFE boat struggled to stay on plane with more than a foot of water above deck. The boat wouldn’t sink, even if all the pontoon compartments were popped, because the hull was filled with foam; unless the boat broke into multiple pieces, it would stay above water. But that didn’t mean it would have any speed or maneuverability.

  “Full stop!” Tanner yelled. “Cut the engines.”

  Randy turned and looked back at him through the rear pilothouse window.

  “Now. Full stop! Cut them.”

  Randy pulled the throttle back to neutral, waited a heartbeat, and slammed the engines into reverse for a second and shut them down. The vessel jerked to a stop and the boat’s wake broke against the transom. Tanner fell to the deck, and the shotgun went off and just missed the pilothouse.

  The boat lifted on the oncoming wave and then settled as the creature passed under the boat. The SAFE boat was fully swamped, and Tanner worked his way to the bow and sighted the gun. The wave crested, and the creature breached, turning its giant body like a worm and heading back their way.

  “Full ahead,” Tanner said into his walkie. “Take me right at this bitch.”

  Randy started the motors and brought them up to speed. He pointed the vessel at the oncoming wave as ordered, but the flooded boat handled like a brick, and it barely made ten knots. LS barked and yipped, but stayed in the pilothouse. Tanner forgot the harpoons aft so he retrieved them. The creature was coming right at them. Two hundred yards and closing. Tanner made his way back to the bow and leaned the harpoons against the gunnel. He checked his Glock 19, then holstered the weapon. He checked his shotgun and jacked a bullet into the chamber.

  A black serpent’s tail knifed from the water, followed by two huge claws covered in swelling whitewater. A jaw filled with razor-sharp teeth and fangs spanned ten feet, and it opened and moved to bite the boat. Tanner froze; the rank smell of death, the deafening hum, the mouth of teeth between two giant claws, pincers on thin legs jerking and pulling toward the beast’s mouth, all made him dizzy. Fear sent a chill through him, and he opened up.

  Tanner fired the shotgun until it was empty, then drew his Glock and fired into the open maw of teeth. When the Glock clicked empty, he hefted a harpoon and loosed it.

  The ancient weapon struck home and stuck in the sea scorpion’s left eye. The deep wail of pain was deafening, and the monster vaulted from the bay like a breaching whale.

  Tanner dove to the deck, taking in a deep breath before he hit the water. The sea scorpion landed on the bow, its giant claws flopped back, and the creature’s underbelly gyrated as two rows of spidery legs reached for prey.

  Still, the twenty-two-foot SAFE boat refused to go down.

  The scorpion’s smaller claws went after Tanner, who was pressed against the gunnel, his face just beneath the water. The creature blocked the sun, and a cold darkness fell over the water. In that moment, Tanner thought he was done, yet his mother’s voice didn’t chime in his head. Fear ran through him. He looked up at the scorpion’s abdomen as it pitched and heaved, trying to free itself from the boat.

  The boat flipped as the scorpion rolled into the sea, and Tanner got tossed against the gunnel. The pilothouse came toward him, and for an instant, Randy and LS stared at him through a window. Then he was sucked away as the scorpion dove and slipped beneath the bay.

  The SAFE boat righted itself, and Tanner lay between the gunnel and pilothouse, bracing himself as he sucked in breaths. Black mud oozed over everything as the water drained, and the scent of bay rot filled the air. The creature’s hum rose, and the rolling sea once again built and came at them.

  A two-foot chop lashed the port side, and the boat filled with water. The advancing groundswell arced toward them and the mouth of teeth tried a second time to take a bite as the spike pulled back, readying to strike.

  The bark of Jefferson’s M2 was the sweetest sound Tanner ever heard. The coastie boat cut across the creature’s line of attack and Jefferson raked the sea scorpion with machine gun fire as she passed. The scorpion stabbed at the coastie boat with its spike, just missing and sending up a fountain of water.

  The bullets didn’t do much because the beast kept coming, driving through the water with its giant claws as it closed in on the crippled SAFE boat. The spike came up and struck. It pierced the SAFE boat’s deck and stuck there as the creature thrashed and bucked, trying to free itself. Tanner peered into the pilothouse, looking for Randy and LS, but he didn’t see them. This sent a new spark of worry through him until he realized they were most likely hunkered down out of sight.

  A Coast Guard helicopter arrived. Two coasties opened up on the creature from above with their MK18s as Jefferson’s boat swung around and laid fire into the creature’s flank. The sea scorpion dove, black mud rising to the surface in nasty swirls like diarrhea in green bile.

  The shots died off, and a cloud of smoke shrouded the bay’s surface like fog. Water lapped against the hull and the whirlybird’s rotors thumped, but the hum of the creature died away. Tanner got to his feet and leaned against the submerged gunnel. Jefferson’s boat floated toward him, and the coasties were congratulating each other and patting themselves on the back. Tanner searched the bay and saw no sign that they’d hurt the creature. No pieces of shell, no blood slick, no mini-claws. Tanner went cold, and his nerves shook. He couldn’t see the creature, but he felt it.

  The wind picked up, and the hum returned, except this time it went from low to high in seconds until it was a painful wail that blocked out all other sounds. A giant swirl of water appeared off the starboard bow. The sea scorpion shot from the murky water like a missile, its giant claws outstretched before it. Black dot eyes the size of basketballs tilted Tanner’s way, one with the harpoon sticking from it. Tanner dove behind the pilothouse and avoided a crushing blow.

  A giant claw clamp
ed down on the bow, cleaving the front of the boat in two. More water rushed into the SAFE boat as it finally gave up the ghost and went down. Tanner swam across the deck as the creature gripped the bow and tossed the crippled boat across the bay like a child’s toy in a bathtub.

  The pilothouse broke off, and the hull cracked as the claws chewed it apart. Tanner pulled the ripcord on his PFD and it inflated. Water rushed at him from every direction and it was an effort to move, so he gave up and let the surging bay water take him. A deep bellow erupted from the sea and the sky went dark as Tanner was engulfed by the bay.

  “Now you’ve gone and done it,” Tanner’s mother said.

  There she was, the leader of the group in his head that controlled and corrected him when he was wrong. “What’d I do, Momma?” Tanner said.

  “You underestimated your opponent, and…”

  Blackness took him and his eyes saw no more.

  11

  Tanner stepped back into the shadows, watching a stunning middle-aged woman in a red dress exit New York Senator Raymond Donald’s limousine. The woman was a high-paid prostitute, and the senator wanted to be president. The man was a snake oil salesman of the highest order, and Tanner had a hard time separating his personal feelings from the investigation. He’d been assigned to the DA’s special corruption task force, and though Tanner knew the task force existed to embarrass the senator so the DA could run for his seat, Tanner did his job, and Donald was shit. If the DA, as a newly minted senator, felt it appropriate to offer better-qualified people such as himself senior positions, who was he to question a man who held one of the hundred seats that shaped the world?

  What pissed him off was he had dinner plans with Audrey. Instead, he was watching an asshole get laid and only getting the G version at that. He’d been tracking the senator for months and cavorting with hookers was the least of his crimes. The deal going down tonight would bring everything together and provide the evidence he needed, and he had to be there. The senator gave bid information to construction contractors run by organized crime. He worked with them all; the Italian mobsters hanging onto glory, the ruthless Japanese yakuza, and the expatriate Russians. The case was so high profile Captain Quinn planned to take the glory bow and do the perp walk old school like Eliot Ness. When Tanner had asked if that was too obvious, his longtime friend and captain in the Suffolk County PD had told him to shut his cake hole.