Sea Raptor: A Deep Sea Thriller

by John J. Rust

  “What’s Karen Thatcher’s role in all this?”

  “I don’t know—”

  Rastun heard the basement door open, then a voice.

  “Hey, I’m just checking…what the hell?”

  FORTY-TWO

  Rastun heard the thud of metal on flesh, then the thump of a body hitting the floor.

  “Geek!” He pocketed his knife and picked up his MP5K. He sprinted to the stairs and looked up.

  Geek stood on the landing. Rastun peered around his legs to see a stocky man lying on his back, groaning.

  “Another guard,” said Geek. “I guess he got lonely without his buddy.”

  Rastun looked at the fallen guard. Blood streamed from a gash just under his eye, probably where Geek nailed him with the butt of his shotgun. He also noticed the guard was Hispanic. He’d bet anything this was the man who threatened Gabe Monroe and beat up Leo Fallon, maybe even killed him.

  “Help!” Krueger screamed. “Help me! Help me!”

  “Shit,” Rastun cursed. “Time to go.”

  He and Geek ran toward the front door. Rastun pulled out his cell phone.

  “Sherlock! Mission compromised! Immediate exfil! Immediate exfil!”

  “I’m on the way!”

  Rastun kicked open the front door. He waved Geek through, then turned to follow.

  That’s when he noticed movement from the staircase. Two silhouettes pounded down the steps. One of them carried something stubby.

  An MP5K.

  Rastun dove through the open door and landed flat on his stomach. A sharp chatter sounded behind him. Bullets tore through the wall and the doorframe.

  “Cap’n!” Geek charged onto the front porch and dropped to a knee. He fired two blasts through the opening. He ducked out of view as more 9mm rounds punched through the wall.

  Rastun rolled to his knees and returned fire. The silhouettes retreated up the stairs. He let loose two more quick bursts while Geek fired three times. Rastun glanced at the road. Where the hell was Sherlock?

  Rounds chopped up the doorframe above him. Rastun lay on his stomach and fired. Again the bad guys retreated. Rastun fired until the 30-round magazine ran dry.

  “Reloading!” he shouted.

  Geek fired the remaining sabot rounds from his USAS-12 while Rastun changed out mags. Moments after Geek fired his last round, enemy bullets tore through the walls and doorframe. Wooden splinters rained down on Rastun. He ignored them and fired three bursts at the staircase.

  An engine roared behind him. Rastun glanced over his shoulder. The Escalade smashed through the wooden gate and sped toward the mansion.

  Rastun and Geek exchanged more shots with the guards until the Escalade jerked to a stop 15 feet away.

  “Go!” Rastun shouted to Geek. “I’ll cover you!”

  He unleashed a stream of 9mm rounds at the guards as Geek dashed for the SUV. Rastun fired until he emptied the magazine, then leapt to his feet and sprinted off the porch. Geek was already in the front passenger’s seat, and had left the rear door open for him.

  Rastun threw himself inside.

  “Go! Go!”

  Sherlock stomped on the gas as Rastun twisted around in the backseat. He grabbed the door handle just as the two guards appeared on the porch. Rastun slammed the door shut as muzzle flashes sprouted from the MP5Ks. Bullets pounded the Escalade’s side. A jagged crack formed in the window.

  “Hey, Geek,” he said. “Give my regards to Aster. The armor and bulletproof glass work great.”

  “Thanks. Now wish me luck when I explain how one of their rides got shot up.”

  The Escalade sped back to the road. The guards continued to fire. A few 9mm rounds struck the cargo hatch, but didn’t penetrate it. Soon the mansion was out of sight.

  “Please tell me this was all worth it,” said Sherlock, who did not slow down.

  “It was,” replied Rastun. “The other Point Pleasant Monster’s in there. I got pics of it and the name of the scientist taking care of it. Steven Krueger. He’s a paleontologist.”

  “Good. I’ll have the Marshals Service run his name and get the local cops out here.”

  “Well, here’s another name for you, the guy behind this whole thing. Norman Gunderson.”

  Geek looked at him as Sherlock turned off Trotting Horse Way. “You say that like we oughta know who he is.”

  “People in the zoo business know him. He’s a billionaire out of Texas. Made his money in oil and energy exploration. One of his side projects is buying failing zoos and supposedly turning them around.”

  “So what does he really do with them?” asked Sherlock.

  “The zoos Gunderson owns have some of the highest animal mortality rates in the country. A lot of people think he buys them as part of an animal smuggling ring.”

  Sherlock looked at Rastun in the rearview mirror. “And he hasn’t gotten nailed for it?”

  “The word is witnesses are afraid to come forward. That, and when you’re a billionaire, you can afford the best lawyers on the planet.”

  “And bribe anyone you have to,” added Sherlock.

  “Well, this time we should have enough to nail his ass. I better call the colonel.” Rastun reached into his pocket for his cell phone.

  “Sir,” said Sherlock. “I think we’re being followed.”

  Rastun looked out the rear window. A pair of headlights charged toward them.

  He clenched his jaw. It had to be the guards from the mansion. He kicked himself for not thinking to puncture the tires on those SUVs in the stables.

  An orange strobe winked from the SUV’s right passenger window. Two cracks formed in the Escalade’s rear window.

  “I guess they really don’t want anyone finding out about that sea monster,” Geek quipped.

  Rastun ripped out the MP5K’s empty magazine and shoved in his last full one. He looked at the backseat windows, but decided against returning fire. The Escalade was armored like a Bradley Fighting Vehicle. He’d be safer hunkered inside it.

  Unless the other SUV ran them off the road, or shot out a tire or two.

  Two more rounds clanged off the Escalade’s rear.

  Enough of this shit. It was time to do what Rangers did best. Seize the initiative and go on the offensive.

  Rastun leaned between the driver’s and passenger’s seats and studied the GPS screen.

  “There!” He pointed. “About a quarter of a mile away, there’s a side road to the right.”

  Geek checked the GPS. “It looks like it dead ends.”

  “That’s okay. Sherlock, turn on that road, then pull to the side and stop.”

  “What then?” he asked.

  “We give those assholes one hell of a surprise.”

  Sherlock nodded. So did Geek. Rastun was certain both men knew what he had in mind.

  The guards in the other SUV kept firing. More rounds pinged off the Escalade. Rastun kept a tight grip on his MP5K, while Geek had his shotgun ready.

  Sherlock cut the wheel right. The Escalade roared onto the side road. Sherlock pulled over and slammed on the brakes.

  “Go! Go! Go!” shouted Rastun.

  Doors flew open. The three ex-Rangers leapt out. Rastun took up position to the rear. Geek and Sherlock, who also had a shotgun, got behind the hood.

  Tires squealed. The other SUV slid right, then barreled down the road. A man leaned out the backseat window, clutching a submachine gun.

  “Open fire!” Rastun yelled.

  His MP5K chattered. The shotguns boomed. Sparks jumped off the side of the SUV. Windows shattered. The man in the back flailed. His MP5K flew out of his hands.

  The SUV sped by. Rastun fired his remaining rounds. The back window exploded into glass splinters. Geek and Sherlock blasted away with their shotguns. The driver jerked. His head dropped out of sight.

  The SUV swerved and went down an embankment. The front end clipped a tree. The SUV spun in a cloud of dust and flipped over. It rolled three times and came to a stop, wheels up.
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  “Let’s go.” Rastun threw down his empty submachine gun and pulled out his Glock. He advanced on the SUV. Sherlock and Geek followed, shotguns up.

  Rastun trained his pistol on an unmoving man lying on the road. The guy’s chest had caved in. His arm lay under him, twisted in an unnatural manner. Blood and brains oozed from the head.

  They continued past him to the SUV. Rastun motioned for Sherlock to cover the driver’s side while he made for the passenger side. Pistol extended, he checked inside. One guard lay crumpled against the roof, blood pouring from his neck and shoulder. He felt for a pulse. As expected, there was none.

  “Sherlock. What’d you have?”

  “The driver’s dead. Most of his head is gone.”

  Rastun holstered his Glock and took out his phone. He hit Lipeli’s number.

  “Colonel, it’s Rastun. We found it.”

  FORTY-THREE

  Even though he had worked for the FUBI for three weeks, this was the first time Rastun had actually set foot in their headquarters. There wasn’t much to it aesthetically. Until their permanent headquarters was built, the foundation worked out of an old industrial complex in Alexandria, Virginia with bland rectangular buildings.

  The three ex-Rangers walked into the deserted lobby. Following the directions Lipeli gave them, they took the stairs to the third floor and went through the fourth door on their right. Inside was a room with a conference table and swivel chairs. The only touch of true decor came from a few framed photos on the wall. One was a still of Bigfoot from the famous 1967 Roger Patterson film. Another showed an underwater shot of an alleged flipper of the Loch Ness Monster.

  Rastun’s gaze lingered on a third photo. This showed the sagging carcass of a creature with a long neck hauled aboard the Japanese trawler Zuiyo Maru in 1977. Though badly decomposed, it did bear some resemblance to the Point Pleasant Monster.

  “Gentlemen,” said a lean, bald man in his early sixties. “Glad to see you’re all safe.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Rastun replied to Roland Parker, the billionaire philanthropist who helped establish the Foundation for Undocumented Biological Investigation.

  “Have a seat.”

  Rastun sat and gazed at each man at the table. Besides Lipeli and Parker, a bronze-skinned man with a thick build and black ponytail and a pudgy man with glasses and receding dark hair also sat in on the meeting. FUBI Director Edward Lynch and Department of Agriculture liaison Nathan Hipper.

  “So tell us what you were up to while waiting for your car to get ‘fixed.’” Lynch gave them a half-grin. Rastun picked up the hidden meaning. The FUBI’s director didn’t believe their bullshit car trouble story, but was willing to look the other way given what they discovered.

  The ex-Rangers told them how they located the mansion and the monster inside it. A few times they were interrupted by alarmed comments from Hipper.

  “You did what… How bad did you hurt them…You actually killed people? Oh my God, the press will crucify us.”

  By some miracle, Rastun restrained himself from slamming Hipper’s face into the table. Typical bureaucrat. The man had no clue what the real world was like beyond his cubicle.

  “Do you have the photos of the monster?” asked Lynch.

  “Right here, sir.” Rastun slid his phone across the table to the director. Lynch’s eyes widened when he looked at the pictures.

  “I can’t believe they were actually keeping this creature in a basement in the middle of Virginia.” Lynch looked up from the phone. “We need to secure it as soon as possible. Do we know if the police have arrived there yet?”

  Sherlock answered, “The last time I checked, the local cops were still trying to obtain a warrant. I assume they have it by now. It shouldn’t be long before they arrive at the mansion.”

  “What if the monster’s already been moved someplace else?” asked Hipper.

  Rastun shook his head. “I don’t see how they could. I’ve seen what it takes to transport an animal from Point A to Point B. It’s not a simple job, especially when you’re talking about an aquatic animal. They’ll need several hours, at least, to get it ready to move.”

  “And you say that Norman Gunderson was behind this,” said Parker.

  “Affirmative.”

  “I can’t say I’m surprised.” Anger lines dug into Lynch’s face. “I’ve heard the man loves exotic animals, and by love, I don’t mean he tries to protect them. A friend of mine ran a little zoo in Brady, Texas that was bought out by Gunderson. One of their featured attractions was a Borneo Pygmy Elephant. It died three months after Gunderson bought the zoo.”

  “I take that it wasn’t from old age,” said Rastun.

  “Those elephants can live up to sixty years. This one was only nine years old.”

  “It also explains why Gunderson would own that fishing company.” Rastun pointed to the photo of the Zuiyo Maru carcass. “That trawler found a supposedly dead sea monster off New Zealand in 1977. And remember how the coelacanth was discovered? Everyone thought that fish died out along with the dinosaurs until a live one was found off South Africa in 1938 in a fisherman’s net. Ninety-nine percent of the time when you throw a net in the water, you come up with sea life everyone knows. The other one percent, you get a surprise. Gunderson hit that one percent when Bountiful Betty snagged another Point Pleasant Monster, or Sea Raptor as they call it.”

  “But if Gunderson supposedly killed that elephant, and probably a lot of other endangered species, why is he keeping our other sea monster alive?” asked Parker.

  “Unfortunately, I didn’t get that far in my interrogation of Doctor Krueger.”

  “But you did find out who our mole is.”

  Rastun cast his eyes to the table, trying to summon the will to answer.

  Sherlock beat him to the punch. “It’s not one hundred percent confirmed, but all the evidence points to Karen Thatcher.”

  Rastun felt another sting to his heart, the same feeling he’d had every other time someone said Karen was the mole.

  “The mole is just the tip of the iceberg.” Lipeli looked from Lynch to Parker. “There has to be someone here in headquarters who put Karen on that expedition. We need to double-check, probably triple-check, every single FUBI employee and see who might be working for Gunderson.”

  “See to it, Colonel.” Lynch then turned to Rastun, Geek and Sherlock. “Good work, all of you.”

  “Thank you, sir,” the ex-Rangers replied.

  “Now to get you back to Epic Venture so we can wrap up this mole business,” said Lipeli.

  Hipper raised his hand. “Um, I don’t think that’s a good idea, Colonel.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, we still have that news story to deal with. You know, what Mister Rastun did in Africa. There was concern from many scientists in the FUBI that the field security specialists would turn into some kind of para-military group, and after what they just did,” Hipper nodded toward Rastun, Geek and Sherlock, “they have a point. Plus from the way that news story portrays Mister Rastun, people will think we have a maniac working for the FUBI.”

  Rastun gave Hipper a withering stare. The bureaucrat shrank back in his chair.

  “Um, um, no offense.”

  Rastun continued glaring at him.

  Hipper swallowed and turned away, looking instead at Parker and Lynch. “You have to admit, this doesn’t look good for the FUBI. They’re going to accuse us of covering this incident up.”

  “There was no cover up,” stated Lipeli.

  “You didn’t mention what Mister Rastun did in Africa when you hired him.”

  “Because I couldn’t. The Army made us all sign non-disclosure forms about the incident. Secrecy may not mean much to people like you in DC, but we Rangers take it very seriously. Some of us, anyway.”

  Rastun figured that was a backhanded jab at Colonel Osgood, whom he assumed was the “senior military official” the reporter referred to.

  Lipeli continued. “The whole story
will come out. It will show that Colonel Osgood went for his gun first and that Captain Rastun was prepared to defend himself. It will also show that his assault on Colonel Osgood, while not condoned, was understandable, given the fact we lost three of our men and had four more wounded.”

  Lynch folded his hands on the table. A thoughtful expression formed on his face.

  This is it. Rastun knew the director was thinking it over. Within moments, he’d know if he still had a job with the FUBI, or if he’d be back working as a security guard at the Philadelphia Zoo.

  Lynch looked up. “I think we can ride out whatever bad press this will generate. Like you said, Colonel, the truth of what happened over there will come out. We also can’t overlook the fact that Jack’s actions since joining the FUBI have saved many lives. This is a man we need to keep, not fire.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Rastun said, relief flooding through him.

  “You’re welcome. Now, you three need to get back to Epic Venture. I don’t want this mole on my ship one second longer than necessary. I’ll try to arrange for the Coast Guard to fly you out there.”

  “While we’re waiting for the chopper, we should try to get some sack time in.” Rastun looked at the former sergeants.

  “Sounds good to me,” said Geek. “Firefights wear me out.”

  Everyone got out of their seats and filed to the door.

  “Captain,” Lipeli called out. “A word?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Are you good to go?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Rastun sensed his former CO’s underlying message. His relationship with Karen wasn’t exactly a secret.

  “I can put aside my personal feelings and do my job.”

  “You weren’t able to do that in Morocco.”

  “That was then. This is now.”

  Lipeli stared at him in silence. Rastun wondered if he’d bench him for the rest of this mission.

  “Carry on, Captain. Don’t let me down.”

  “I won’t, sir.”

  Rastun exited the conference room, glancing back at Lipeli. He wondered if he really could put his personal feelings aside the next time he saw Karen.