The Breach

by Edward J. McFadden III

  Silva stood waiting, bracing himself on the Zodiac’s black gunnel.

  Tanner breathed deep and slid open the pilothouse door. Wind gusted as he went out on deck, and he and Silva spoke over a two-foot gap between their boats amidst the storm-ravaged bay.

  “What’s the plan?” Tanner asked.

  “You and Randy, me and my crew, and a coastie boat will head up the canal real quiet like, and surround the creature. Then we drive it down the canal with the sonic cannons. Should be easy if we place the boats right.”

  Tanner nodded and turned to go back into the pilothouse.

  Silva stopped him. “Be careful, yeah? You know what this thing can do. Resist the urge to attack it. This time, we’ll let the big guns handle it.”

  Tanner nodded. Every time someone said something along those lines, his heart hammered in his chest and streaks of pain ran up and down his legs and arms. If he had only backed off when he had the chance… He wouldn’t torture himself any longer. Jefferson’s death wasn’t his fault, nor was Sal’s, or any of the others, but that didn’t stop him from feeling like shit about it.

  Tanner started to give Randy his marching orders and his friend cut him off. “Heard the whole thing,” he said. The PD SAFE boat fell in behind Silva’s command boat as it slid down the canal, and the coastie vessel trailed after. A few inches of bulkhead stood above the water, but the water was rising. Their wakes sent waves pouring across backyards, parking lots, and marinas. The tides were running higher than normal, and wind tore at the remains of the lost world that floated in the water.

  Tanner saw houses he recognized as they passed like wraiths through the predawn dusk. Emergency lights cut through the gloom on the streets as police and local firemen went door to door spreading the word of a mandatory evacuation for the surrounding area. If the animal hopped onto land, they wanted no one in its way. A prudent precaution and one that might have saved the three people who were killed when the first sea scorpion had flattened Fireplace Neck.

  “See it, Tanner,” came a voice over the comm.

  “I got it, Silva. Over,” Tanner said. Then he turned to Randy and said, “Looks just like when Sal and I found the first one hiding in the house basement.”

  Randy said nothing as he maneuvered the SAFE boat up river, past the boathouse with the bubbles pouring out its front entrance. “Where you want me, boss?” he said.

  “Full stop. Hold position until we hear from Silva.”

  The agent was on the bow of his boat, staring into the dusk at the boathouse, his hands on his hips. He looked back up the canal toward the SAFE boat and the coasties and held up a hand.

  “What are you doing you crazy bastard?” Tanner said.

  Silva’s boat inched toward the dark maw of the boathouse entrance, the tip of the Zodiac disappearing within.

  The bubbles stopped, and Tanner jumped on the radio. “Silva, get back. It’s coming.”

  Silva retreated aft and the black Zodiac reversed out of the boathouse. The agent pointed toward Tanner and bent his finger in a come-to-me gesture. Randy engaged the motors and the SAFE boat slid through the turbulent water until they were north of the boathouse. The coastie boat stayed south, and Silva fell in behind Tanner.

  The radio crackled to life with Silva’s voice. “On my signal, engage the sonic cannons, direct them into the boathouse. When it breaches, retreat north, with cannons directed south. Everyone give me an all go, please. Over.”

  Tanner tapped the comm button and said, “All go.” A second later, the coastie boat did the same.

  The bubbles started again, and boils of whitewater rolled from within the boathouse as the beast surfaced.

  “Leo, you ready out there?” Randy had patched the kid’s headgear into the comm.

  The boy gave a thumbs up, and said, “Ear protection, please, sir.”

  Randy and Tanner slipped on their earmuffs. Seconds passed, minutes, then Silva’s voice boomed through the comm. “Now. All sonic cannons on.”

  Tanner heard nothing. The light on the cannon’s power supply was on, and Leo had the round gray housing directed at the boathouse. He slipped one ear protector cuff off and heard a high-pitched screech that sounded far away. Based on their briefing, Tanner knew the ear protection was overkill because the sound waves were focused in a single direction, and due to the precision of the device damage to organisms outside the beam of the weapon saw little effect, so he pulled the ear protection off.

  Bubbles and whitewater erupted from the beneath the boathouse, and Randy put the SAFE boat in reverse, moving north as Leo arced the sonic cannon over the canal. Waves pounded the boat and ran over the bow, but Leo didn’t flinch as bay water rushed around his legs.

  The leviathan’s antennas and tail rose first, dripping with mud, then the giant claws followed by its hard black-shelled carapace. Two good eyes swiveled toward the boats, and they seemed to jiggle as the creature floated to the surface.

  “Forward,” Silva said over the comm. All three boats advanced toward the scorpion, sonic cannons on full power and zeroed in. The creature’s hum became a wail of pain as the sound waves tormented the beast.

  The leviathan breached from the canal, flopping over on its side and sending mud and debris raining down upon the boats. Then it headed south down the center of the canal, and Silva’s black Zodiac jumped right on its tail. The sea scorpion dove, leaving only a mound of water and its tail behind.

  “Should we hit it a few times to make sure it keeps heading south?” Randy asked.

  “Negative,” Tanner replied. “We’re not supposed to engage. Stay behind Silva.”

  They drove the sea scorpion south, back the way they’d come. The sound of approaching helicopters signaled the arrival of the flyboys. A Navy drone trailed after the beast, sending video back to the command ship. Tanner considered telling Silva to call them off. So far, the scorpion had responded to the sonic cannon as expected, and the plan was working perfectly. If the helicopters came in, the beast might get spooked, as it had before, and it might risk land travel. If they needed the whirlybirds, they could call them in, but at the moment, they seemed more of a hindrance.

  “Silva, this is Tanner. Over.”

  “Go ahead, Tanner,” Silva said.

  “Call off all the birds. This thing is following our playbook to the letter. Why risk it getting spooked? Like you said, let’s let the big boys handle it this time.”

  Silva said, “I was just thinking the same thing.”

  The channel went dead and Tanner looked to Randy, who shrugged.

  The sound of the helicopters faded, but the drone stayed.

  The sea scorpion fled before them, and soon it would reach the bay. A heavy rain fell, and a harsh breeze tore at Leo, who stood by the cannon, head pressed into the wind, rain lashing him. Tanner couldn’t see the boy’s face, but he knew he’d be smiling. Silva gave him a thumbs up as the agent sat on his Zodiac’s gunnel, talking into a radio. The coastie boat stood back, flanking Tanner’s PD boat. Their little team had done its job, and now it was time to finish it.

  36

  The scorpion squeezed through the narrow canal mouth into the bay. It dove as soon as it hit deeper water, and its tail dipped below the surface, leaving only a swirling mass of mud, bubbles, and whitewater. Silva’s boat stayed behind the creature, and Tanner and the coasties fanned out to the east and west, driving the beast south toward a knot of boats that was separating to create a path. Rain fell sideways as wind roared over the chopped surface of the bay.

  Tanner took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he rolled his shoulders and stretched his back. The ball of water rolled across the bay; every time the creature veered off course, a boat would move in close and focus the sonic cannon, and the beast would get back in line.

  This went on for several minutes as the small vanguard drove the sea scorpion forward. It made no sounds as it swam, and Tanner wondered if the wind and background noise might lessen the effect of the cannons, but if i
t did, the beast showed no sign.

  It reached the slick and slowed, the possibility of getting food overriding its flight instinct. The mound of water lessened, and the beast fully submerged. A few moments later, its tail broke the surface, then its carapace. It opened its giant jaws, sucking in the oil and rotten meat floating in the chum slick, and picked up speed as it followed the slick across the bay to the breach.

  Waves broke through the breach, and the current was running fast as the tide pulled out. A solitary seagull flew next to the drone as it followed the beast toward the trap, and Tanner marveled at the bird’s bravery, or ignorance. “You see this thing?” he said to Randy.

  Randy looked perplexed and Tanner pointed through the front pilothouse window. “Haven’t seen one of those out here in over a week,” Randy said.

  “What do you figure it means?”

  Randy shrugged.

  When they were a mile out from the breach, other vessels joined the vanguard. The Navy Freedom-class littoral combat ship Freedom II, captained by Hal Preston, took lead position next to Silva, and Tanner and the coastie support vessel fell in behind them. Navy, Coast Guard, SCPD, and fire rescue boats fanned out in a wide arc, fully encircling the monster except for its southern escape route. The ships with sonic weapons made up the forward team, while the rest kept a safe distance and helped keep the beast from straying off course. Drones swarmed in the air like mosquitoes now, and Tanner wondered how they weren’t smashing into each other.

  The tide was ripping and the current pulled bay water through the breach, creating a series of rapids and whitewater that marked the choppy surface. Sea spray covered the deck and windows, and the sound of eighteen boat engines, the faint purr of the sonic cannons, and the wind and waves created a cacophony no ear protection could ward off.

  The scorpion’s carapace lifted from the sea, it antennas flopped about, and it slowed. It adjusted its course to port, but was met with a PD boat, and when it adjusted to starboard, it met a Navy Zodiac.

  When the vanguard reached the mouth of the breach, the creature disappeared beneath the bay, and all that remained was a swirling vortex of water. Tanner said, “Take us down a few knots.” Randy eased back on the throttle and the SAFE boat slowed as the rest of the vanguard powered ahead. Tanner grabbed his field glasses and searched the horizon. There was no sign of the sea scorpion. The wind eased, and the rank stench of the beast cut through the sea air.

  “It’s playing possum like its buddy did,” Tanner said. “Full stop.”

  Randy hesitated, but then complied. Tanner slid open the pilothouse door and went aft, staring across the windblown sea. Even out on deck, he heard Silva’s hail. “Tanner, what the hell are you doing? We’re almost there.”

  Tanner went back to the wheelhouse to respond. Randy was already answering Silva when he arrived on the bridge. “…it’s disappeared. We’ve seen this before.”

  “It dove, that’s all. Power forward,” Silva said.

  Tanner interjected. “You see anything on your sonar?”

  Silence on the other end.

  “Silva, do you copy, over?” Tanner said.

  When Silva’s voice came back on the channel, he sounded defeated. “You might be right, I can’t see anything and there’s no bubbles coming to the surface.”

  “So let’s turn around,” Tanner said.

  “One minute. Let me contact Preston,” Silva said. Several tense minutes passed as the entire vanguard passed them by, and soon Tanner and Randy and Leo sat alone on the torrid sea. When Silva hailed, he sounded unsure. “Tanner, Captain Preston disagrees, and the vanguard will continue on its present course.”

  Tanner sighed and pounded the comm console. “Silva, the creature has doubled back and is heading to the slick. I guarantee it.”

  “How can you know?”

  “I’ve seen this before. Its partner tried to give us the slip the exact same way.”

  Silva said nothing, and only faint static crackled over the comm.

  “Trust me, Silva. I’m right.”

  “You’re willing to bet lives on that?”

  “Yes,” Tanner said with no hesitation. He’d taken the deaths of his friends and colleagues hard, but that last thing he wanted was for more people to die because he didn’t act when he knew what needed to be done. Sitting back and letting more qualified and better-equipped professionals do the work was one thing, but sitting by when he knew those better-equipped pros were making a mistake was something altogether different.

  “OK,” Silva said. “Wait for me, I’m coming with you.”

  There was a tapping at the pilothouse door. It was Leo. The seaman’s face was twisted in a frown, and he held his hand to his ear as if listening to someone speak. He knocked on the door harder, and Tanner let him in.

  “What is it, sailor?”

  “I have orders to continue on,” Leo told him.

  “From who? I’m in command here,” Tanner said.

  The lad looked uncomfortable. Clearly, he didn’t want to go up against Tanner, but orders were orders, and Tanner watched as the young man fought with himself. Tanner knew which side would win.

  Tanner stepped forward and stripped the headset from the seaman’s head. “You are under arrest for mutiny. Please go down below and wait. I’ll turn you over to your superior officer when this is done.” Tanner hated doing it, Leo was a naïve kid, but Tanner couldn’t think of any other way to protect the kid. This way all responsibility would fall on Tanner and Leo would escape discipline.

  Leo looked confused, and the corners of his mouth dipped as disappointment spread over his face. He reached out and took the headset back and looked to Randy, then back at Tanner.

  “You’re sure?” Tanner said.

  Randy said, “This isn’t your fight.”

  “But it is,” Leo said. “Brass and ass sound and mean the same thing.” He smiled, tension leaving his face. “Plus, you’ll need me to work the cannon if we actually find the thing.”

  The kid had a point. “You sure? The military don’t take kindly to disobeying orders,” Tanner said.

  Leo nodded. “They won’t miss one cannon with all that firepower, anyway.” He slipped out of the pilothouse and went back to his post.

  Silva arrived, and his Zodiac bumped up against the SAFE boat. He leapt aboard and was in the pilothouse in seconds. He carried a large black plastic suitcase, and he handed it to Tanner. “You might need this. Incendiaries with a short barrel launcher for close-range shots. What now?”

  “I figure it’ll head back to the slick looking for food.”

  “OK, let’s do it, then,” Silva said. He went back out on deck and waved for his boat to follow and returned to the pilothouse.

  Randy dropped the hammer and the SAFE boat jerked from the water and was on plane in seconds, blasting through the three-foot chop. The twin Hondas buzzed as they tore through the whitecaps, shooting sea spray and seaweed over the deep green water.

  “Houston, I think we have a problem,” Randy said.

  “What now?” Tanner said.

  Randy turned aft and pointed at Silva’s boat in the distance. “She’s not coming.”

  Silva’s grin disappeared, and he stabbed the comm button. “Lt. Grishel. Lt. Grishel, do you copy.” Static. “Grishel, you little shit, you better answer me or you’ll be piloting a rowboat in Central Park!” Nothing. “Screw you, coward.” Silva closed the channel and smiled. “I didn’t expect them to follow, that’s why I came aboard. Those Navy tools would kill their mom before disobeying a commander’s order, even if said commander told them I was in charge.”

  “Surprised you didn’t bring in your own crew,” Tanner said.

  “No time. The agency is stretched thin at the moment, and this isn’t the only crisis that requires attention. Then there’s the matter of the crew I did have.”

  Tanner said nothing. Silva had lost four of his five men, and where man number five was at the moment he didn’t know, but he could imagine
Silva wasn’t the most popular guy back wherever he called home.

  The comm burst to life. “Tanner, this is Captain Quinn. You are to return to the vanguard immediately.”

  Tanner could only imagine the testosterone-filled command center back on land. He responded, “Terry, the creature gave the fancy Navy ship the slip, and it’s back in the bay and—”

  “Return to the vanguard now or you’re relieved of duty,” the captain said.

  “Can he do that?” Randy said.

  “Why not? He’s the boss,” Tanner said.

  “Randy Vernon, do you copy?”

  “Right here. Over.”

  “You are to take command and join the vanguard at once. Your sound cannon is needed.”

  “Sorry, boss, but no can do.” Randy closed the channel.

  Silva and Tanner stared at Randy, crooked smiles painted on their sun-burned faces.

  “Proud of you, partner,” Tanner said.

  “You can explain it to Tina when I’m fired and I can’t pay the bills,” Randy said, but he was smiling, clearly pleased with himself.

  The three men watched Leo as he held onto the sonic cannon, the boat bouncing and listing as it cut through the rough seas. The rain came on hard, but the kid didn’t move. Lightning tore across the sky and the rumble of thunder rolled over the bay.

  “You think that’ll spook it?” Silva asked. “The thunder, I mean?”

  “It might,” Tanner told him, “but most fish like rainy weather, that’s why hardcore fisherman always go out in bad weather.”

  A flash of lightning lit the dark water, and in the distance, a black spike cruised just above the surface. “There she blows,” Silva said. He opened the large suitcase and removed the missile launcher and loaded an incendiary missile.

  “That the same kind that took down the last one?” Tanner asked.

  “Yup. Stingers, and this time, I plan to put it right down the thing’s throat.”

  Somewhere above the storm clouds, the sun passed noon.

  37

  “Half speed,” Tanner said.