by John J. Rust
Sherlock leaned forward. “Quite the job you have now, sir, chasing monsters.”
“Heh! Lately, it’s the monster that’s been chasing us.” Rastun picked up a menu. “And now we have a mole to deal with.”
“So Colonel Lipeli tells me.”
An overweight, middle-aged waitress came out of the store. Once she took their orders and went back inside, they resumed their conversation.
“So you’re sure your shotgun shells were replaced with blanks after you got here?” Sherlock asked Geek.
“Absolutely.”
“And I have a feeling that’s not the only thing they replaced.” Rastun ran a hand over his sweaty brow. The late morning air was already hot and muggy. “They must have done something with the toxin dart, too.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“That thing was filled with Golden Poison Frog toxin.”
“How potent is it?”
“One milligram can kill an elephant.”
Sherlock’s eyes went wide. “That’s pretty damn potent.”
Rastun nodded. “We should be dragging that monster’s ass back to Virginia right now. There’s no way it should have survived.”
Sherlock looked to Geek. “Can you get me some of those shotgun shells and toxin darts? I can have the Marshal’s Service lab in DC analyze them.”
“No problem.”
“Can you trust the guys in the lab?” asked Rastun.
“There are a couple I get along with well. They can keep this confidential.”
The waitress returned with their drinks. Rastun downed most of his water, relishing the ice cold feel as it flowed down his throat.
“So what about the crew?” asked Sherlock. “Have either of you noticed suspicious behavior from any of them?”
“Doctor Malakov’s a raging, lefty psycho bitch.” Geek sipped his Diet Coke. “But I think that’s more a personality defect than suspicious behavior. Still, she’s my bet for the mole.”
“Let’s not jump to any conclusions until we get more facts.”
Geek shrugged. “Hey. People bet on who’s gonna win the Super Bowl before the season starts. I can say who the mole’s gonna be before you make any arrests.”
Sherlock shook his head. A slight grin traced his lips.
“I know Doctor Ehrenberg can be a little eccentric,” said Rastun. “But nothing that sets off any alarm bells. Tamburro and Hernandez seem like okay guys, and our tech guy, Montebello, usually keeps to himself.”
“You know what they say about the quiet ones.” Geek wagged a finger. “Everyone thinks they’re shy and don’t bother anyone, until the cops find the remains of an entire Brownie troop stuffed in their freezer.”
Sherlock looked to Rastun. “What about Karen Thatcher and Raleigh Pilka?”
He hesitated. He had sworn to keep their issues between the three of them. But given the threat posed by this mole…
“Karen dated Pilka when she was in college.”
“What?” Geek stared at him, mouth agape. “Karen and Doctor Pilka? Are you shittin’ me?”
“No. Not only did they date, Pilka’s the father of Karen’s daughter.”
“Holy shit. We’ve got a damn soap opera happening on our boat.”
Sherlock’s eyes shifted from Geek to Rastun. “I take it this isn’t common knowledge among the crew?”
“No.”
“Did their relationship end badly?”
“Very.”
“Any lingering issues between them?”
“Yeah.” Rastun nodded. “It started out as a glaring contest between the two, but it escalated into a pretty heated argument. I laid down the law, told them to put their differences aside or I’d bring it up to Doctor Ehrenberg. So far they’re both behaving.”
Sherlock took another gulp of his iced tea. “There was nothing in their personnel files to indicate they were ex-lovers?”
Rastun cringed, not wanting to think about Karen and Pilka doing the sort of things lovers do. “To be honest, the personnel files were pretty bare bones. Looks to me like we’ve got some lazy or incompetent people in our HR department.”
“Well, I’ve got the resources to conduct more thorough background checks. Hopefully I’ll find some clues as to who our mole is working for. Meanwhile, Geek, when can you get me those shells and darts?”
“I’ll give you a call as soon as we get back to the hotel. We can arrange a place to meet up.”
“Good. Meantime, if you see anything out of the ordinary from anyone on the expedition, let me know ASAP.”
“Hu-ah,” both Rastun and Geek replied.
The waitress returned with their lunches and to refill their drinks. When they finished eating, Sherlock bid them farewell and went to his car. Rastun thought about asking him for a lift back to the hotel, but decided against it. He didn’t want to risk someone from the expedition seeing him and Geek with Sherlock.
Rastun and Geek went inside the store and bought duct tape, batteries, first aid supplies, plastic bags, notebooks and pens. Some of those items they probably wouldn’t need, but he’d told Karen they were going on a supply run. If he wanted to maintain that cover story, it wouldn’t do to return empty handed.
Rastun took three steps outside, then stopped.
“Aw, dammit.”
“What?” asked Geek.
“I forgot to get Karen her iced tea and protein bars. I’ll be right back.”
He headed back inside when Geek started laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
“You and Karen have barely been together two weeks and she’s already got you whipped.” Geek kept laughing.
Rastun glowered at him. “Shut up.”
TWENTY-TWO
Rastun tried to beat down his worry as the HH-65 Dolphin lifted off from the flight deck of the Coast Guard cutter Vigorous. He didn’t like leaving the rest of the FUBI expedition, not with a mole among them.
Geek’s still onboard, along with over seventy Coasties. That sort of security presence ought to deter the mole from doing anything to harm the expedition members.
Still, it didn’t stop Rastun from worrying.
The helicopter, which to him resembled a large orange dolphin with a black nose, swung away from the Vigorous and flew south. Rastun knelt beside the open door and scanned the ocean with his binoculars. Since coming aboard the cutter two days ago, they’d had no joy finding the Point Pleasant Monster. But if he did find it, he was more than ready to deal with the beast. Colonel Lipeli had personally delivered new sabot rounds and toxin darts to him and Geek before they went to sea. Plus the helicopter carried an M240 light machine gun and a Barrett .50 caliber rifle.
The Dolphin flew from Point Pleasant down to Cape May and back again. Just like the previous patrols, they came up empty.
When the helicopter returned to Vigorous, Karen, Geek and Ehrenberg were waiting for him.
“Let me guess.” Ehrenberg had to shout over the roar of the rotor blades. “No sign of the monster.”
Rastun shook his head as they walked toward the cutter’s island. “Did you really expect anything different?”
Ehrenberg shrugged. “I’m the eternal optimist.”
Rastun grinned. That grin faded when suspicion scratched the back of his mind.
Could Dr. Ehrenberg be the mole?
He hoped not. Actually, he seriously doubted it. Ehrenberg was a good guy. Friendly, easy going and hardly ever got angry.
The perfect guy no one would suspect.
The cutter bobbed up and down in the choppy water, forcing Rastun to mind his steps. The weather forecast showed a storm moving along the coast of Delaware. It was due over Vigorous’ patrol area in a few hours.
He wasn’t looking forward to that.
“Well, now that you’re back,” Ehrenberg slapped Rastun on the shoulder, “you can join us for one of the most fun parts of this expedition.”
“Lunch?”
“Nope. Another briefing.”
&
nbsp; “You could have held it while I was up there.” He jerked his head toward the cloudy sky.
“And deprive you of the enjoyment of a bunch of people sitting around blathering on and on and not getting anything accomplished? I couldn’t live with myself if I did that.”
“You’re all heart, Doc.”
“Besides,” said Ehrenberg, “the folks down at Alexandria came up with a great plan to catch the Point Pleasant Monster.”
Rastun chuckled. “Well, that wasn’t the least bit sarcastic. So what do they want us to do?”
“You’ll see.”
Five minutes later, the expedition gathered at a table in the chief petty officer’s mess. Rastun’s eyes flickered from one person to another. The same question went through his mind.
Which one of you is the mole?
“Okay, gang.” Ehrenberg seated himself at the head of the table. “I talked with Director Lynch about an hour ago. The FUBI is sending some rafts up here. The Vigorous will dock at Cape May tomorrow to pick them up, then we’ll fill them with raw meat and try and bait the monster.”
Malakov gasped in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”
“I may not be, but Director Lynch is.”
“How will we know if the Point Pleasant Monster goes after one of those rafts?” asked Pilka.
“Each raft will have a camera,” Ehrenberg answered. “Plus radio trackers will be embedded in the meat. If the monster swallows it, we should be able to follow it.”
“That’s the most asinine thing I’ve ever heard of!” Malakov threw up her hands. “We’re more likely to attract sharks and seagulls than a sea monster.”
“I have to agree with Doctor Malakov.” Much as it pains me, Rastun wanted to add out loud, but didn’t. “This kind of plan smacks of desperation.”
Ehrenberg nodded. “I know. I’ve seen these kinds of baited traps used on Sasquatch hunts. Usually they just attract bears, mountain lions and other known animals. But the press is hammering us every day for not finding the Point Pleasant Monster. I guess Director Lynch and everyone else back at FUBI Headquarters feel they need to try everything possible, no matter how desperate it may be.”
Malakov snorted. “Well, if we have to do this idiotic plan, we should put some of those rafts farther south.”
“Why’s that?” asked Pilka.
“The first time he tried to kill it,” she shot Rastun a brief scowl, which he ignored, “the monster fled south. It may have felt its territory was being challenged, and it lost that challenge. A few days ago he tried to kill it again. That’s another territorial battle it lost. It may have retreated farther south. Not only that, but with all the watercraft restrictions put in place by the Coast Guard, its food supply is drying up. It might travel south to find more prey.”
“You could be right,” said Ehrenberg. “Jack, you’d better warn the authorities along the Delaware coast the monster could be on its way there.”
“You got it, Doc.”
Ehrenberg turned to Montebello. “Charlie, be sure to get in touch with headquarters and get the frequencies for those radio trackers, then pass them along to the Coast Guard.”
“Okay.”
Ehrenberg looked around at the expedition members. “So that’s the skinny, people. We may be grasping at straws with this plan, but you never know. It might actually work.”
“Well,” said Geek, “if you have any lucky shirts or lucky underwear, better put ‘em on.”
A few of the expedition members chuckled. Malakov scrunched her face in disgust.
When the meeting broke up, Rastun went to the crew’s study, which consisted of some chairs, a couch and a couple of tables and internet stations. No one else was around. He used his satellite phone to contact USCG 5th District Headquarters and the Delaware Emergency Management Agency to alert them of the potential threat posed by the Point Pleasant Monster. Next, he logged into one of the computers to check his e-mail.
Four messages downloaded. Two were from his mother and his cousin Olivia, wanting to make sure he was all right – meaning not eaten by a sea monster. The third was his monthly e-newsletter from the 75th Ranger Regiment.
The last was from Sherlock.
Rastun pulled out his cell phone and texted Geek.
Meet me in the crew’s study NOW.
Geek strode in three minutes later. “Something important, Cap’n?”
“I just got an e-mail from Sherlock.”
“About time. Let’s see what our favorite marshal’s got to say.”
Geek stood over Rastun’s shoulder as he clicked on the e-mail.
Captain,
Sorry for taking so long, but that’s the nature of running background checks.
I started out with a search of criminal records. Both Charlie Montebello and Manny Hernandez are clean. Sam Keller and Nick Tamburro both had a couple of disciplinary write-ups while in the Navy for drunk and disorderly. Dr. Ehrenberg was arrested for marijuana possession back in college. Karen Thatcher was cited for exposing her breasts during a spring break trip to Fort Lauderdale her sophomore year in college.
Rastun shifted in his seat. That was information he could have done without.
He continued reading.
Dr. Pilka was involved in a domestic dispute about 11 years ago. It was verbal with a few items around the house broken. No physical violence. Both Pilka and his wife were cited for disturbing the peace.
Eleven years ago. That would put it around the same time as Karen’s affair with Pilka.
Three guesses as to what that dispute was about, Rastun thought, and the first two don’t count.
After reading that Pilka had also been busted for DUI, he got to the part involving Malakov.
Dr. Malakov’s record set off some alarm bells for me. She’s been arrested at protests on three occasions, including the 1999 WTO demonstrations in Seattle.
Rastun remembered seeing footage from the “Battle for Seattle” when he was younger. The shattered storefronts, damaged vehicles and clashes between cops and protesters.
Yeah, Malakov would have definitely fit in with the type of groups that took part in that.
Also, when she was in college, Malakov and two of her friends were arrested for dumping red paint throughout a clothing store that sold fur.
“Sherlock’s making my point,” said Geek. “The crazy lady’s gotta be our mole.”
Rastun just nodded and kept reading.
Next I dug a little deeper, looking at past associations and financial issues. Once again, Hernandez and Montebello came up clean. Both Keller and Tamburro have, or in Keller’s case had, an ex-wife and a couple of children. I can’t look into their bank records without a warrant, but it’s not difficult to imagine how alimony and child support can turn into a financial burden for them. It would certainly make either one a desirable recruit for a mole.
Prior to joining the FUBI, Dr. Ehrenberg had two of his cryptid expeditions funded by The Kobel Trust. It’s named after Chris Kobel. He was one of the dot com millionaires from the 1990s. Died in a car crash at age 31. Some of his friends established the trust after his death. Kobel had a big interest in cryptozoology. He talked about creating a zoo featuring cryptids. Maybe someone involved in the trust feels the same way.
Rastun scowled. He didn’t like the thought of Ehrenberg being the mole.
Malakov is a member of several environmental and animal rights groups, some legitimate, others radical. One of her college classmates, Tara Rodriguez, is the head of a group called the North American Animal Liberation Army.
“NAALA.” Rastun looked up at Geek. “Yeah, I know all about them. They’ve vandalized labs that experiment on animals, released animals from pet stores, farms and zoos. One member even burned down a farmer’s house in North Dakota a few years ago. Killed the entire family.”
“Basically, the kind of group that would do anything to keep the Point Pleasant Monster alive.”
Rastun nodded and turned back to the screen.
/> I’m still trying to get more information about Pilka. I ran into a wall when I tried to find out his reason for leaving the marine institute in Palm Beach. I have a feeling it was something pretty serious if he goes from a top position there to teaching at junior colleges.
One thing did stick out when I checked into Karen Thatcher’s past.
Rastun felt his muscles tense.
Two years ago, she was hired by Exotic Animals Magazine to investigate reports of Sumatran Rhinos in Thailand.
Rastun’s brow furrowed. Sumatran Rhinos were among the most endangered animals on the planet. Less than 300 remained in a handful of parks and reserves between Borneo and the Malay Peninsula. He didn’t think there were any left in Thailand.
They actually found a couple of them. A year after the story was published, the World Wildlife Fund sent some people to Thailand. They found the body of a rhino with its horn cut off.
“What’s up with cutting off the horn?” asked Geek.
“Rhino horns are very valuable. They’re ground into powder and used in different medicines throughout Asia. One pound of rhinoceros horn powder can be worth about forty-five thousand dollars.”
Geek’s eyes bulged. “No shit.”
Rastun stared at the screen.
The interesting thing about Exotic Animals Magazine is it’s part of a publishing company founded by a former big-game hunter from Germany named Holger Mertesacker. A few articles I saw about his company indicate it’s been losing money for quite some time. The expedition Karen was on may have been a recon team in disguise. When they confirmed the existence of the rhinos, Mertesacker could have sent poachers in to kill them and profit from the horns. He may have similar designs on the Point Pleasant Monster, with Karen helping him again.
Rastun didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t believe it. But there it was, staring him in the face, a theory put forth by one of the smartest men he knew.
A theory that Karen might be the FUBI mole.
TWENTY-THREE