by JE Gurley
The visible damage was daunting. The engine’s supports had sheared away during the impact with the megalodon, and the entire engine had shifted forward and crashed into the generator, rendering both inoperative. Asa crawled out from under the engine housing and sighed.
“The main bearings are frozen,” he reported. He plopped down in the engineer’s chair in front of the screen that should have displayed the engines’ status. Like all the boat’s electronics, it was blank. He wiped his greasy hands on a rag and shoved it in his back pocket. Will noted the grease stains he left on the chair but said nothing. “I can replace them easily enough. However, the heat exchanger is cracked. Unless you have a spare lying around, you’ll have to run it on low power or shut it down every few hours to cool.”
“What about the generator? I need power.” He didn’t like sitting helpless in the middle of the ocean. If any of the megalodon were still around, the Sunfish would make a tempting target.
Asa shook his head. “That’s not gonna happen. Most of the control panel is shot, the shaft is warped, and the solenoid is fried from a power surge.”
It was unwelcome news. Without power, the remaining 25mm minigun was useless, as was most of the hi-tech equipment on the bridge.
Asa continued, “I might be able to coax enough power from the solar panels on the drones you’re carrying to run your most critical systems, but it’s a big maybe. No computer for the engines. Someone will have to run them manually.”
Will frowned. He had four crewmen left, and Asa was telling him he would need one of them to operate the engines. “We need sonar and radar. Make that your top priority after the engine. I’ll see what the Utah can spare from her stores when we catch up with her. Will both engines run?”
“Yeah, but I wouldn’t push them too hard. They both took a beating.”
“Just as long as they get us where we’re going.”
Asa glanced away. He tapped his crescent wrench against the console as he asked, “Just where is that?”
Will hesitated. “First, we rendezvous with the Utah. The giant megalodon is still moving in a westerly direction, and the Utah is following at a distance. They think it’s returning to familiar waters.”
“The underwater cavern?”
“So it seems.”
“What about after we rendezvous with the sub? What then?”
“We accompany her in the pursuit.”
Asa’s face clouded. It was clear he was not happy with the answer. “Why? The Navy has other ships in the area. Why are you so eager to expose your crippled boat to the megalodon again? Isn’t twice enough?”
Will stared at Asa. It was difficult to put in words. The megalodon had bloodied him, making it personal. If anyone knew how he was feeling, the mechanic would. They both shared a hatred for the creature. “I want to see it dead,” he replied.
Asa’s sardonic grin as he slowly shook his head conveyed his low opinion of Will’s logic. “You sound like Simon. He was willing to die for his revenge, probably still is. Are you? More to the point, are you willing to kill the rest of your crew?”
“My crew is my business,” Will snapped, stung by Asa’s question. It had struck a little too close to home. In his book, the loss of four men under his command was difficult to justify, but he had a job to do. He could not shirk his duty. “You just get my boat operational.”
Asa’s eyes flashed with anger. He threw Will a mock salute. “Aye, aye, sir!” he growled, and returned to the engine. He buried his face in the bowels of the engine, grumbling.
Will decided he needed some fresh air before he choked his only mechanic. His first act when he caught up with the Utah would be to transfer the two civilians with his other two charges to get them out of his hair, but he needed the mechanic for a while longer, and Asa refused to work unless Simon stayed as well. The pair had his nuts in a bind and delighted in squeezing them. He needed the Sunfish operational as quickly as possible.
The list of damages to the Sunfish was long and varied. The megalodon impact had warped the stern drop ramp and rendered it unusable. They had lost the Zodiac, the aft 25mm chain gun, and one of the .50 cals. The blow had opened a dozen leaks in the aft section. They crew had sealed or patched the worst of them, but all of them needed a permanent repair. The bracing to the previously damaged bow had shifted, opening even more leaks. Even Haig was lending a hand with the repairs. Both bilge pumps were working full time and barely making headway against the incoming water.
As if that wasn’t enough, half of their plastic water bottles had ruptured, leaving them low on drinking water.
On the deck, he stopped Apone as he raced by with a hammer in his hand. “Set up a portable pump and flush the water tanks with salt water. Maybe the Utah can spare some fresh water.”
Apone nodded, his exhausted, dirty face showing no trace of emotion. As damage control officer, his duty was to oversee the repair crews, but the multitude of tasks kept him running from one calamity to another. The crew continued to function, but they had endured more than their fair share of loss. Like their captain, they were running on caffeine, adrenaline, and stubborn bullheadedness, but their store of energy was not limitless. Soon, they would be crashing, the full weight of their experiences bearing down on them. As their captain, he would have to be there to keep them going. If I can keep it together.
“Soup?”
The question brought him out of his reverie. Simon stood there holding a tray of bowls of soup and sandwiches. The aroma wafting from the steaming bowl of soup made his mouth water. He shook his head. “Not now.” He started to leave, but the chef moved to block his path.
“You’ve been at it for nine hours, Captain. You’re beat. Your crew is beat. I made a hearty beef and lentil soup and a pile of corned beef and Swiss cheese sandwiches with horseradish mayo and dill pickles. Eat something.” More quietly, he added, “If your crew sees you eating, they’ll eat something. Right now, they’re afraid to stop working long enough to eat. You need a break. None of you can go on like this much longer.”
As much as he resented Simon, he made sense.
“Fifteen minutes. We’ll break fifteen minutes; then, we’ll get back at it.”
Simon smiled. “Good decision. I have a little Scotch I salvaged from the Vanguard. A drop or two all around might perk everyone up.”
Will cocked his head and looked at Simon. “You salvaged a bottle of Scotch from a sinking drillship?”
Simon drew himself to his full height. “It’s very good Scotch.”
“Very well, food and a shot. Happy?”
“Delighted. How’s Asa?”
“Pissed at me. He’s elbow deep in the starboard engine.”
“From what I hear, he’s a good mechanic. If it can be fixed, he’ll fix it.”
“I hope so.” He noticed the grin on the chef’s face. “Why are you so happy? I thought you resented the Navy.”
“Oh, I still do, but as long as I’m on this boat, I still have a chance to kill a megalodon. That is where we’re going, isn’t it?”
A thought occurred to Will. “You put Asa up to demanding you stay aboard if he did.”
“We spoke of it. It looks like we both need him, cCaptain.”
“I don’t appreciate being manipulated.”
“You’re shorthanded, Captain. I can cook, and if you show me how, I’ll man one of the machineguns. I’m fat, but I’m ornery. Asa will keep us afloat. Besides, you owe us.”
“How do I owe you?”
“You said you wouldn’t report us. Thirty minutes after you left, a lieutenant showed up with an armed escort to confine us our rooms.”
Will nodded. “And you think I reported you.”
“Who else?”
“Did it occur to you that the Navy had the drillship under observation?” When Simon looked confused, he said, “The ship’s monitor cameras were still operational. Someone spotted you on camera and reported you. I didn’t.”
“I see,” Simon said. He square
d his shoulders and faced Will. “I have one quality you’re going to need when we catch up with that monster.”
“What’s that?” Will asked curtly. His conflict with the chef was growing tiresome.
“Your crew is scared. I’m not. I want to find it. I’m eager to kill it.”
Will shook his head. The chef might be insane, but if so, so was he. “You’re a crazy son of a bitch, I’ll grant that. Okay, take the food back to the wardroom. I’ll round up the crew and join them there.”
As Simon walked away, Will said, “Thanks.”
Without turning around, Simon replied, “De nada.”
By the time he had gathered his crew from their various chores and reached the galley, he found Asa waiting for him. He sat at a table with a cup of coffee in one hand and a sandwich in the other. He eyed Will as he entered, but said nothing. Will picked up a cup of coffee and sandwich and delivered it to the injured Viper pilot, Anderson, lying on a bench. The pilot’s leg was broken, along with several cracked ribs. Grayson had given him a shot of morphine and set the broken bones, but he needed more care than they could offer him on the Sunfish.
Anderson took a sip and grinned. “Your cook makes good coffee.”
“He’s not Navy. He’s a civilian chef off the Vanguard.”
“Nevertheless.”
“How’s the leg?”
Anderson studied his splinted and bandaged leg for a moment. “No much pain, but that could be the morphine kicking in. My ribs hurt like a son of a bitch when I move. All in all, I’ll live.”
Will smiled. “Good. No patients die on my watch.”
In spite of his injuries, Anderson seemed in good spirits. He wasn’t sure about his crew. They were exhausted; he saw it in their blank faces. Conversation was minimal. No one wanted to talk about what had happened or showed any interest in where they were going. Were they scared, as Simon had suggested? He knew they would fight if the need arose, but how much did they have left to give. They looked drained, walking automatons. Like me. How much could he demand from them?
When they got the engines back on line, and if he could count on a steady thirty knots, they faced a challenging twenty-hour journey to the site of the Global Kulik sinking. That allowed him time to rotate his crew for some much-needed sack time. If the Utah had sent a message, or if he managed to send one with their quirky battery-powered radio, they would rendezvous with the rest of the Arctic Fleet. With that much firepower available, they could end the battle for dominance of the oceans. Then, a systematic extermination of any of the primitive sea life that had escaped its eons-long tomb could begin.
It sounded easy, but he doubted it would be that simple.
* * * *
December 26, 2018, 7:00 p.m.–
Asa felt like a shanghaied sailor, except instead of from seedy port side bar, the captain of the Sunfish had been plucked from a sinking ship, the Vanguard. It wasn’t that he minded pitching in and helping. After all, until the engines were operational, he was stuck in the middle of the ocean. However, Will had made it abundantly clear that he want neither him nor Simon on his boat and that only the direst circumstances prevented him from dropping them both overboard for a helicopter to pick up. Having endured one such experience, he was not eager for a second attempt. Simon had explained that the Sunfish’s captain had not reported them, but he wasn’t ready to kiss and make up. He resented the captain’s commandeering him.
The boat had taken a beating. Only a shipyard could repair the cracked plates, the warped keel, and the savaged stern, but he had made headway on the damaged engine. It would run, after a fashion, but it would require some finesse and a steady hand to keep both engines in sync without burning them out. They had power of sorts. Stripping the four UAVs of their solar panels, added to the 60-Watt portable roll up panel used for SEAL team operations, gave them just enough power to operate sonar, radar, and the boat’s electrical system, including the refrigerator and coffee urn, in his opinion, the boat’s two most essential systems.
The heating system operated from waste heat from the engines, so they would not freeze, although without the heat exchanger for the number two engine, it would get cold. However, they had no ship’s computer, hence no 25mm chain gun, no long-range communications, or GPS navigation. The captain would have to pilot the boat by dead reckoning using the stars and the sun for position.
They had set out after the Utah just before sunset and still faced a long, arduous journey. They had left the storm behind them like a dark testament to the sunken drillship and the Amberjack. The sea was calm with long, gentle swells. In her present condition, Asa doubted the Sunfish could have held together in a rough sea.
He was in a quandary about his present circumstances. After surviving two ships sinking out from under him, he was leery of his presence on a third vessel of dubious hull integrity. The crew had stopped most of the leaks, at least temporarily, but if the bilge pumps failed, they would sink. Third time’s a charm!
On the other hand, Simon was delighted. He was still in on the hunt for the giant megalodon. In spite of Asa’s assurances, Simon had convinced himself that the behemoth was somehow responsible for his sister’s death. He had focused his entire being, his reason for living on pursuing and killing the creature. For his part, Asa had had enough. The slaughter around the Vanguard, both human and megalodon, had sated his appetite for blood. His personal quest had ended. The megalodon were real. He wasn’t crazy. He felt vindicated, relieved. Killing them no longer appealed to him. He was willing to let the Navy, or even the Boy Scouts, finish the job. His part in the Great Arctic Megalodon Extermination Sales Event was finished. He was ready to resume his life, what bits he could salvage.
He had coaxed thirty-five knots from the engines, though the higher speed made it more difficult to keep the revolutions even. He was eager to get where they were going, not to kill megalodon, but to transfer to another ship, one from which he could hitch a ride back home on a helicopter. He nudged the throttle down a bit on the damaged engine with the heel of his hand until the tone sounded right in his ear, more in sync with the number one engine.
“Keep it up, baby,” he urged them. “Daddy wants to go home.”
He looked up and saw Simon standing in the engine compartment door.
“Do you always talk to engines?” he asked. His voice rose to project over the noise of the engines.
Asa grinned. “Sure. They never sass me. They just listen.”
“An admiral character trait, I suppose. It’s a bit one-sided though.”
Asa stood between the two engines, his hands resting on each one, feeling the vibrations hoping to detect any problems before they arose. He felt more in touch with inanimate objects than he did humans. Machines he could understand. They operated by a fixed set of physical laws. The vagaries of human psychological did not influence or corrupt them. Machines might try to kill you, but they didn’t try to fuck you over.
Simon sat down at the useless engineering console. Asa decided the overweight chef looked more exhausted than the Sunfish’s battle-weary crew. Both of them had experienced an eventful twenty-four hours, but he doubted Simon had slept.
“The captain gave you an offhand compliment about your mechanical skills.”
Asa grimaced. He was still sore at Will. “Any other time, I’d be delighted in his vote of confidence.”
“You should give him some slack. He’s doing what he has to. He’s in a tight situation.”
Asa arched an eyebrow at the change in Simon. “I thought you were anti-Navy. So you’re okay with it now because he’s taking you where you want to go.”
Simon looked puzzled. “And you don’t? I thought you were still in the fight. Isn’t that why you went back for the saxitoxin?”
Asa shrugged. “I brought it on a whim. Multiple brushes with death have forced me to rethink my position. I’ve decided I’m not ready to die.”
Simon’s face clouded, and he got that far away look in his eyes Asa had see
n in them more and more often. “Neither was Ilsa.”
Simon had not asked how she had died. Asa wasn’t sure if he did not want to know, or if he wanted to spare him the burden of reliving the events of the Global Kulik’s sinking. It was time he knew. Maybe then, he would abandon his unhealthy quest for revenge.
“Look. The shark didn’t kill her; at least I don’t think it did. Certainly not the big mother we’re chasing. I killed her.” He waited for Simon’s reaction. To his surprise, Simon’s mien barely changed. “Not directly,” he added as he continued. “I was with her in the lab when the ship drilled into the cavern and it collapsed beneath us. The ship was going down. We raced for the lifeboats with the rig crashing down around us. The Kulik was like a bucking bronco. When it stood on end, we slid across the deck. I almost went over the side. Ilsa did.” Simon’s eyes widened. “I held her with one hand, while clinging to a cable with the other. That’s how I dislocated my shoulder.” He rubbed his injured shoulder. “I managed to pull her up, and we scrambled back on board.” He paused, as the emotions of the event flooded over him, threatening to overwhelm them. He had suppressed them for so long, it was reliving the event. He could even taste the salt water; smell the methane-and-sulfur-laced air.
“The ship rolled and we both went over the side. When I came up, she was some distance away. The ship came down between us. I … I didn’t see her again.” He closed his eyes and shook his head, shivering from the cold of that fateful day. “I don’t know if the ship landed on her or if she drowned. I almost did. I pulled myself on top of a toolbox and floated until a chopper picked me up. That’s when I saw the giant megalodon, or imagined I had. Now I know it was real. If I had … If we hadn’t been separated, I might have saved her.”
Simon said nothing for a few moments; then, said, “No, it’s not your fault. Maybe a megalodon didn’t kill her. Maybe it did. It doesn’t matter. There’s still one left, and I want to kill it.”