by Steve Alten
“Hi, Heather. Alan Miller with the governor’s office.”
“Kirsty Joyce, counsel for Dubai-Land.”
“Great. We’re just waiting for Paul Agricola to join us and we can begin.”
“I’m here,” the Canadian marine biologist said. “I can hear you, but the damn video isn’t working.”
“Mr. Agricola, this is Tom Cubit. I’ve asked Jonas Taylor and his son, David, to join us this morning. Ms. Kirsty, is the crown prince with you?”
“Unfortunately, his highness is still recovering from yesterday’s harrowing events.”
“Would that be the harrowing flight aboard his luxury helicopter which departed nineteen minutes before his supertanker sank into the Monterey Bay Canyon?”
“Killing forty-eight friends and members of his crew. Yes, Mr. Cubit. The crown prince is in mourning.”
“And what about the crown prince’s first cousin and partner, Fiesal bin Rashidi?”
“Mr. bin Rashidi was rescued; his whereabouts are presently unknown. However, you should know that his highness bought out his first cousin’s shares of Dubai-Land shortly after our arrival aboard the Tonga. Mr. bin Rashidi is no longer associated with the resort.”
Tom Cubit held up a signed contract. “Twenty-six days prior to that termination, Mr. bin Rashidi, acting on the authorization of your client, signed this legal document with the Taylor family to purchase the Tanaka Institute, along with the Liopleurodon offspring held aboard the hopper-dredge, McFarland, for a hundred and fifty million dollars. That broke down to $100 million for the facility and $50 million for the pliosaur. Do you need me to send you a copy of this signed agreement, Ms. Joyce?”
“We have our own copy, thank you, Mr. Cubit.”
“According to the terms of the agreement, the Dubai-Land Corporation was legally bound to pay the Tanaka-Taylor LLC when you took possession of the Lio offspring on Wednesday of last week. As of this morning, payment has yet to be received.”
“It was my understanding that the money and official transfer of ownership would occur during yesterday’s ceremony.”
“Not true. Your marine biologist, Jacqueline Buchwald, asked my clients to move up the delivery date of the Lio in order to acclimate the creature to its new tank prior to the voyage to Dubai. Once you accepted delivery, the money should have been wired.”
“Mr. Cubit, my client has every intention of completing the transaction once the Liopleurodon is in our possession.”
“The Lio was delivered to the aquarium your team erected aboard the Tonga. There is video footage and dozens of eyewitnesses that will attest to that fact.”
“The question is not about delivery, it is about transfer of ownership. Technically, since Dubai-Land has yet to pay for the Tanaka Institute, the Taylors still own it. The same can be said for the Lio.”
“The Tonga and the Lio tank were part of Dubai-Land, not the Tanaka Institute. You took ownership the moment you housed the creature.”
“Technically, Mr. Cubit, the Tonga was still located in the Tanaka Lagoon’s waters when she sank.”
Jonas felt his blood pressure rising.
His attorney merely shook his head. “Technically, the inside of my navel is part of my mother’s umbilical cord, but that doesn’t make her liable for my actions. The Tanaka Institute isn’t a country, Ms. Joyce. It doesn’t own the waters outside the canal. The Lio was yours before the Tonga sank and we expect you to pay for it.”
“If your client wishes to complete the sale, Mr. Cubit, they’ll need to recapture the Liopleurodon. Otherwise, there’s nothing to talk about.”
“See you in court, Ms. Joyce. Oh, and be sure to remind your client not to spend the Tonga’s insurance money … or the rider you added last week to cover the Lio.”
Using his laptop’s mouse, Tom disconnected Kirsty Joyce from the video conference call. “Mr. Miller, there’s a rumor going around that Governor Skinner and the crown prince had a deal on the table that would have essentially turned Monterey into Dubai-Land West. New zoning laws to accommodate five-star hotels … two-lane off-ramps along the Interstate … a high-speed rail constructed between San Francisco International and the Tanaka Institute.”
“The governor is interested in any venture that brings jobs to California.”
“Hypothetically speaking, if my client did recapture the Lio, and who knows, a surviving Meg pup, would the governor commit to putting the same offer on the table?”
“I think we’d love to see that, Mr. Cubit, but it would take far more than two sea monsters housed in a thirty-year-old arena to replicate what the crown prince had proposed to build in Monterey. David Taylor would know far more about this, but from what I understand, they’ve already captured five or six different prehistoric species, plus they started a breeding program that ensures the longevity of all exhibits in every theme park. Technically, they never needed your facility; all they ever wanted was the Liopleurodon―and, of course her eggs.”
“Mr. Agricola, are you hearing all this?”
“Yes.”
“Your deal with Jonas Taylor was to purchase the Institute for $150 million with ten percent down and eight-year terms on the balance. Are you prepared to complete that arrangement?”
“Things have changed. Bela and Lizzy are dead. With the sisters gone, the orca pods have returned to the Salish Sea and I have serious doubts whether any of the shark pups could still be alive. Personally, I don’t care about a Liopleurodon. But without a Meg, the facility’s as useless to me as tits on a bull.”
Tom Cubit disconnected the call. “Sorry, Jonas. I know you have a lot on your plate, but I thought you and the kid needed to hear this.”
David slammed both palms on the conference table. “That lady lawyer is lying. Mac and I delivered the Lio. They took possession―it escaped on their watch. They owe us the money … $50 million, according to the terms of the contract. I say we sue them.”
“Suing them isn’t the problem,” Tom replied. “They’ll drag it out in court and, if all goes well, in a few years we’ll get a judgment. The problem is in actually collecting the money. The United Arab Emirates is not a member of the Hague Convention on Foreign Judgments. Even if they were, they’d never enforce a U.S. ruling against their own royalty.”
“What about lawsuits from the victims’ families?”
“Those they’ll be forced to settle. The prince will be generous with the civilians; I doubt he’ll toss more than a few bucks at the crew’s families.”
Jonas ran his fingers through his thick silver-white hair, tugging at his roots. “So we went from two buyers to being stuck with an empty arena and aquarium that is costing me $22,000 a month just to maintain.”
“Dad, I can fix this. All I have to do is recapture the Lio.”
“Out of the question.”
“Why? I chased its mother. Junior’s nothing.”
“David, the only reason you were able to track its parent was because it was tagged. The juvenile could be a hundred miles from here by now. It’s also nocturnal; it will probably remain in deep water forever, and I don’t have the funds to mount an endless expedition. Besides, the governor’s assistant is right … the Tanaka Institute is a thirty-year-old white elephant. It would take a quarter of a billion dollars just to modernize, let alone make it state-of-the-art like the tanks in Dubai-Land.”
Jonas turned to his attorney, his mind made up. “I’m done, Tommy. Go ahead and file Chapter Eleven.”
* * *
Paul Agricola logged out of Skype before turning his attention to his guest. “Looks like that call went pretty much the way you expected. So, what happens now?”
Fiesal bin Rashidi closed his eyes, massaging the center of his unibrow with the tips of his index fingers. “Now, Mr. Agricola we recapture the Lio.”
Carmel, California
Jacqueline Buchwald awoke to the semi-muted sound of pounding surf and the ca-caw of seagulls. Locating her iPhone on the night table, she was surprised t
o learn it was 11:27 a.m.
She kicked off the quilt and rolled out of bed onto her feet. The room was dark―she felt for the drape cord and gave it a downward tug, drawing open the curtains.
“Oh, wow.”
The view from the second story balcony looked out to dramatic cliffs and deep blue sea. She lost herself in the Pacific coastline until her bladder decided she needed to get on with her day. After using the toilet, she searched through the sink cabinets, locating a half-empty bottle of mouthwash and deodorant. She also found some of Danielle Taylor’s make-up and put on her “face,” then left the bathroom and entered the walk-in closet, locating an old pair of sweatpants and a matching hooded sweatshirt.
Barefoot, she left the bedroom and knocked on David’s door, but found his room empty. She followed the hallway to the grand marble staircase which looked out onto the first floor and another breathtaking view that wrapped around the back of the house.
“Hello? Anyone home?”
Receiving no reply, Jackie entered the kitchen. She found the clothes she had been wearing yesterday washed and folded in a neat pile on a chair, along with her tennis shoes. The remains of a buffet breakfast had been placed in Tupperware containers. Jackie helped herself to a plate of eggs and hash brown potatoes and heated everything in the microwave. She filled a glass with orange juice and sat at the kitchen table and ate while she checked the messages on her iPhone.
The text from the crown prince sent her pulse racing.
She stared at the Pacific, lost in thought. After ten minutes she finished her breakfast, washed off her dishes in the sink, and headed outside to locate David.
She was greeted by a cloudless cobalt sky and just enough flesh-warming sunshine to tolerate the cold gusts of Northern California air. A stone path cut through the courtyard and a small garden, leading her to a wooden staircase which hugged the cliff face as it descended to Otter Cove and a small patch of beach.
Seated cross-legged on a white towel, facing the ocean was Terry Taylor.
Jackie hesitated to join her, unsure if David’s mother was meditating and preferred to be alone. She was about to head back up the stairs when her host waved her over.
“Isn’t this a glorious day? I left some food out for you. Did you eat?”
“Yes, thank you. Where’s David?”
“With his father, at our attorney’s office.”
“Mrs. Taylor―”
“You can call me Terry. David told you about my health challenges?”
“Yes. I’m so sorry. But I’m sure you can beat this.”
“Death doesn’t scare me; as my father taught me when my mother left us long ago, it is merely the soul’s transition into eternal bliss. It’s dying that is hard. I remember seeing my mother with tubes in her arms and machines booping and beeping … that will not happen to me. When it is my time, then … what is it, dear?”
“Yesterday …”
“You thought it was your time?”
She shook her head, her eyes welling with tears. “It was my time. I drowned. It was horrible and terrifying, and then it was serene … no pain.”
“No pain.” Terry smiled. “I look forward to that. What else?”
“I saw David hovering over my body, fighting to bring me back. Your son … so brave.”
“Like his father.” Tears rolled down Terry’s cheeks as she squeezed Jackie’s hands. “You saw David giving you CPR, and suddenly zap … you were back in your body … back in the world of pain.”
“Oh my God; how do you know?”
“A long time ago, when I was a little older than you are now, Jonas resuscitated me in a similar way. The Taylor men … they fight hard for the women they love.”
“I don’t think David loves me.”
Terry’s almond eyes beamed at her. “He does. He’s just afraid to allow himself to feel again. You have to be patient with him. If you can do that … the two of you will have something special.”
Jackie shook her head, biting her lower lip to maintain control.
“What’s wrong? Tell me.”
“Your son deserves better. I’d only drag him down.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“That’s because you have a big heart. I’m not the person you think I am.”
“And who might that be?”
“The dedicated Ivy Leaguer … the ambitious female scientist, forging ahead in a man’s world. You and Jonas raised your kids the right way … you gave them a foundation of love and integrity. Me? I’m a survivor. I’ve had to lie, cheat, and steal to stay alive, and I don’t trust easily … especially men. The sperm donor responsible for half of my chromosomes was pond scum―a high school dropout who impregnated my mother just so she would feel obligated to take care of him. He bounced around a dozen minimum wage jobs and spent the few paychecks he earned on clothes and beer, which he drank to excess while he rented movies and pretended to watch me so my mother could work two jobs in order to keep the lights on and food on the table. He was a violent drunk and my mother gave him far too many chances before she finally threw him out and completed a restraining order. He didn’t like that, so he broke in one morning while I was getting ready for school and beat her into pulp until the cops showed up, and that was the last memory I have of my father.”
“My … God. Did she survive?”
“It would have been better if she hadn’t. She ended up in an institution. I visit her every so often, but she has no idea who I am.”
“How old were you when this happened?”
“Eight, maybe nine. I spent the next six years in foster homes. I was a quiet kid who read a lot and was a pretty good student. One really nice couple I lived with paid for six months of ballet lessons. Unfortunately, my body developed early, and my last foster father took interest. The second time he forced himself on me, I packed my stuff and hit the streets.”
“Does David know any of this?”
“No. He thinks I put myself through college as a ballet dancer. I was a dancer … in a strip club in Santa Rosa. I worked there until I was nineteen. The owner knew I was a minor, but he didn’t care. The guy was a meth dealer and all of his girls were hooked … that was the rule. The cops finally raided the joint and found his lab in the basement. I spent a week in jail and two hard months in rehab. My counselor helped me to get my G.E.D. and she also tutored me for taking the S.A.T.s. My scores were very high, and I got accepted at Brown University, but my police record kept me from getting a scholarship.”
“I couldn’t afford tuition at an Ivy League school, so I enrolled at a junior college in the area my first two years and transferred to Brown as a junior. Between my financial aid and lap dances at the topless bar outside of Providence, I managed to pay for tuition and books.”
“You went back to stripping?”
“You can’t make seventy grand working at a McDonalds, Terry. But I was older … more mature. The second time around, I stayed away from the drugs and booze. My marine biology professor, Barbara Becker, took me under her wing. She was one of the leading experts in the field of ancient sea monsters and she was very kind. Eight months later, Fiesal bin Rashidi recruited her to set up his aquarium habitats. She agreed, but only if I could be her paid assistant. The job would count as my internship and would allow me to save about half the money needed to finish my education.”
“Five months later, Dr. Becker was recruited by the Defense Department for some secret project in Miami. Her replacement kept me on as an assistant. Meanwhile, things were going badly aboard the two tanker expeditions … and then David showed up with his friend, Monty.”
“The crown prince met with me a day later. He said he was transferring me to the Tonga’s sister ship, the Mogamigawa, where I would be in charge of maintaining the hold habitats for each prehistoric specimen that our sub pilots netted. I was really excited―for the first time I felt part of something important. Then the prince told me the real reason he wanted me on board. I was bait―the lone aca
demic among a harem of exotic women―all of us hired to seduce your son and mend David’s broken psyche so he could focus on his job. There was a hefty bounty―fifty thousand dollars―for whoever kept him occupied on the job long enough to catch the Liopleurodon.”
“The offer repulsed me; I actually ended up insulting David aboard the prince’s jumbo jet. But something unexpected happened our first night aboard the Mogamigawa. His cabin was next to mine … about 2 a.m. he let out a blood-curdling scream. I broke into his room and found him in the throes of a horrible night terror. He told me he was having them a lot … all having to do with his girlfriend’s death. I really felt bad for him―”
“So, you seduced him.”
“Seduced? No, I’d say it was pure lust. And for a while it worked―he stopped having the dreams and we enjoyed spending our nights in bed together. The problem was that he started having feelings for me, so I ended it. David deserves better, and … well―I guess I felt a little guilty.”
For a long moment Terry sat motionless, gazing at her hands in her lap.
“Please say something.”
“Jacqueline … it’s not my place to judge.”
“But you think I should go.”
“Did the prince pay you?”
“He paid me $5,000 to set up the habitats aboard the Mogamigawa for the three creatures David captured. I was supposed to receive a $25,000 bonus once the Lio arrived safely.”
“He never paid you for sleeping with my son?”
“I’ve done a lot of things in my life I regret, Terry, but I’m not a whore.” Jackie interpreted Terry’s body language. “You don’t believe me?”
“You’re all alone in this world … trying to finish school … trying to change your life for the better. If accepting that money meant not having to work in a strip bar to pay for school … who could blame you?”
“If you believe that, then why would it matter to you if I accepted the money?”
“It matters because David is my son and I may not be around too much longer. Before I go I’d like to know the person he’s with cares about him and not about his money.”