by JE Gurley
“Why are we circling this ship?” Josh asked, perturbed that Germaine would risk their lives in such a manner.
“I wanted to see the bastards close up.”
Josh didn’t understand Germaine’s anger. “Why?”
Germaine wheeled on Josh so quickly that Josh jumped back. “It ain’t right for a ship to not show her colors. She’s up to no good.”
Germaine’s vehemence was new to Josh. He had never seen the captain so angry. “What can we do about it?”
Germaine cracked a grin. “Show them that I know what they’re doing here.”
“Now that you’ve made your point, can we continue our search? The professor is getting anxious.”
“Aye. They know we’re here, not that they give a furry rat’s ass. They’re after Cere same as us, and I aim to get it first.”
Josh was worried about that. Without the Andrews supporting them, the Chinook helicopter would have to fly all the way back from Kingston. That meant that they had to keep the sedated ceresiosaurus afloat for at least an hour, maybe longer, before the helicopter could lift it. The Miss Lucy carried several floatation bags large enough for the purpose, but that meant that someone had to go in the water and feed cables beneath the sleeping creature. As the only certified diver, that task would fall to Josh, and he wasn’t looking forward to being so near the sedated creature.
“You still think that they would kill us all to get it.”
“If they’re CIA, then they think there’s a military use for the creature. Many a man’s gone missing in the name of national security, and I’m not even a bloody American.”
Josh wasn’t sure he accepted Germaine’s assumptions, but the captain’s paranoia was contagious. He chanced a glance at Elansky, still sitting with her legs crossed on the aft cargo hatch. From the look of disdain in her eyes, she harbored the same feelings toward the black ship, as did Germaine. Before, she had been studying the sea for any sign of the creature, but now she stared at the black ship as if willing it to sink. He half expected her to load the explosive shell into the rifle and sink it herself at any moment. If she had reason to resent the ship’s presence, then perhaps he should show more concern.
Professor Hicks also did not appreciate the ship intruding on their turf, though Germaine was the one who had encroached upon theirs. He stared at the hulk for a few minutes, and then rushed over to Josh, fuming.
“By what right do they remain here? No anonymous vessel can be benign.”
“Germaine thinks it’s the CIA or some other black ops group trying to get the ceresiosaurus.”
Hicks puffed out his cheeks and expelled a deep breath. “They wouldn’t dare. This creature is of vast scientific importance, not some government experiment.” He paused a minute, and then said, “I’ll bet they’re here for the Russian nuclear warheads. The Pokhomov sank somewhere in this area.” He relaxed and allowed a slight smile to dance on his lips. Josh didn’t remind him that they could be there for both.
Germaine called out from the cabin, “I’m picking up something on sonar.”
Both he and the professor hurried to the cabin. “Is it the creature?” Hicks asked.
Germaine shook his head. “No, it’s smaller and metallic. It should surface over there.” He pointed to a spot fifty yards from the black ship. A few minutes later, a pale yellow object appeared.
“It’s a submersible,” the professor shouted. “I suppose the rumors about the mysterious missing DSV-5 are true.”
A loud groan in the water radiated from beneath the black ship, the sound of metal sliding against metal.
“It’s submerging again,” Germaine said of the submersible. “It’s moving toward the ship.”
“The ship has an underwater hatch for the submersible,” the professor said. “That’s what that sound was. This is an expensive operation.”
“The CIA has deep pockets,” Germaine announced, abruptly turning the wheel hard to port to steer them clear of the ship. “My curiosity’s satisfied.”
Hicks bounced against the bulkhead, but quickly regained his balance. He turned to Germaine. “I only half believed you about the black ship. I’m sorry I doubted you.” He furrowed his brow. “If they indeed have drums of MS-222, they present a problem.”
“Well, whatever they intend to do, we can’t stop them.”
Hicks nodded. “Yes, yes. We should continue our search.”
“Why do you call it a black ship?” Josh asked. “It’s black and gray.”
Germaine stared at Josh for a moment. “It’s a CIA mobile operations center, a black site. That’s why it’s called a black ship.”
Josh felt like an idiot. His knowledge of the world was limited to textbooks. “Oh, I see.” Properly chastised for his ignorance, he left Germaine at the wheel and went on deck. The professor was seated on the wooden bench just outside the cabin, facing aft, lost in thought. Josh didn’t want to disturb him. He found a comfortable spot on a coiled rope, leaning against the forward mast. The vibrations of the mast as the sails popped in the breeze and the warm breeze on his face lulled him to sleep and to dream.
He was underwater, facing an amorphous dark shape, when suddenly a giant red eye opened and stared at him like an opening to the pits of hell. He opened his mouth to scream and water rushed into his lungs. Darkness overwhelmed him, smothering him. He awoke with the taste of salt water still in his mouth. His heart pounded as if starved for oxygen. He glanced around to see if anyone what witnessed his moment of fear, but no one had. His secret was safe.
They continued their search pattern until night fell. Then Germaine ordered most of the sails taken down to reduce speed. He or Bodden continued to monitor the sonar and the radar, but both were blank. They were alone on the sea. Their quarry had fled.
When the last glow of the setting sun faded, Elansky left her spot on the aft hatch cover. She stood, stretched her arms over her head, and, when she bent over to touch the ground, gave Josh an excellent view of her ass. Even the loose fitting fatigues she wore couldn’t hide her obvious curves.
“Nice, eh?”
He turned sharply at Germaine’s remark, feeling like a kid caught stealing candy.
“I, uh, wasn’t looking,” he muttered.
Germaine winked. “Sure, kid. Me neither.” Germaine pulled out his cigarettes, briefly blinding Josh when he flicked his lighter into a flame and touched it to his cigarette. “Me, I’ve always appreciated the female form.” He exhaled a cloud of smoke that settled around Josh’s head. “Besides, it’s kind of thrilling to think she could kill me with her bare hands.”
Elansky crossed the deck to stand before the two men. She glanced first at Josh, and then at Germaine. “Gentlemen, are we calling it a night?”
Germaine smiled at her. “Our equipment is picking up nothing, not even a school of fish. We’ll keep moving. I don’t want to sit in one spot, but yeah, I think we’re done for the night.”
She nodded. “I could use a drink.” She stared at Josh. “How about you?”
Any witty reply he might have attempted died in his throat. How could she disarm him with one glance? “Sure,” he croaked, mentally kicking himself for acting like a teenager.
“Do we go below decks?” Germaine asked.
“No, I prefer staying up here,” she replied.
“I’ll have someone bring up some scotch. Dinner will be ready soon. I think we’re having jerked pork.”
Professor Hicks had gone below just before sunset and had not reappeared. He had been bitterly disappointed with the day’s results, and his brusque manner conveyed that he wished to brood alone. He wouldn’t be hungry. Josh gave him his space. From previous experience, he knew how moody his teacher could become and didn’t want to spend the next few hours trying to salve his wounded ego. The professor was a good man but prone to bouts of melancholy that only solitude could cure.
Any guilt Josh might have felt over consoling his friend was assuaged by corporal Elansky’s presence. She enamored
him. He had never met anyone like her. The college girls he dated, even the ones not in college, all seemed to be cut from the same cloth – vacuous, petty, self centered, and temporary. Although nearly the same age, the gulf that separated Corporal Elansky and him was wider than the Gulf of Mexico. He had spent his entire adult life enmeshed in the world of academia. Elansky had fought in the deserts of Afghanistan, while he was busy bar hopping with friends, surfing, or diving. Her efforts made him look like a slacker.
Germaine brought out deck chairs and spread them behind the cabin out of the breeze. As the captain poured liberal amounts of scotch into their glasses, Josh was perplexed to see a Luna moth the size of his hand perched on the cabin’s window. Amazingly, the moth had found the only source of light and spot to rest its weary wings for three hundred miles. It reminded him of how deep sea creatures sought out thermal vents, both as a source of nourishment and as a source of heat in the freezing depths. Nature, unlike Hoover, abhorred vacuums.
“To a successful hunt,” Germaine toasted. Josh raised his glass.
Conversation died as the trio sipped scotch and watched the stars appear one by one in the night sky. They blazed brighter than stars over land or near a city, pinpoints of colored light on a black velvet background. Josh could make out the Big Dipper, Orion, and the Pleiades, but little else. He had spent most of his time staring down instead of up. He envied Germaine that much. He probably knew each star by name and could follow them across the globe. By the time dinner arrived, delivered by the grinning Rastafarian Odette, the liquor was working its way into Josh’s system, relaxing him and kneading the tensions from his overwrought muscles. He glanced at Elansky, lying back in her chair, eyes closed, with her drink resting on her breasts. He wanted to talk to her, say something witty. Perhaps even teasing, but his tongue refused to cooperate. Too bad the scotch won’t loosen my tongue, he thought.
Before they could take their first bite of their meal, Bodden sang out, “We’ve got company.”
16
Oct. 30, Pandora, Cayman Trench, Caribbean –
“I ought to put you in the brig.”
Knotts wasn’t happy with the crew of the Nemo. Devers’ initiative to blow up the sunken Russian freighter A.K. Pokhomov had cost him one of the four nuclear warheads. His superiors wouldn’t be happy.
“You have three nukes,” Devers replied. He closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat. “I don’t see the problem.”
Knotts, perturbed by Devers’ nonchalance, slapped the desk with his palm, suppressing a smile when the submersible pilot jumped. “Your mission was to retrieve all four.”
Devers leaned forward. “One was leaking radiation. Leave that ‘do or die’ shit to the Marines, Colonel. I’m a civilian.”
“We’re all civilians now, Devers, but we still have a job to do.”
Devers erupted, waving his hands in the air. “You saw the video. Those giant pill bugs were isopods, normally six or seven inches long. Those things were six feet!” He stared at Knotts. “According to the reports, those creatures wiped out Little Cayman, so I played exterminator. Fuck ‘em!”
Matthews, his co-pilot, had said nothing during the debate, but he nodded his head vigorously in agreement.
Knotts raked them both with his gaze, which he had been told, when focused, could make a man tremble. The video of the giant isopods had bolstered the Company’s claim of a giant sea creature. The attack on the Andrews cinched it. Until they captured the creature, the sea lanes wouldn’t be safe to travel.
“We’ve still got a job to do,” he said.
Devers rolled his eyes. “It’s what I get paid for.”
“Where else are you going to make 120K a year?” Knotts pointed out. “The Andrews is returning to port, but the schooner with Professor Hicks and his protégé is still out here. They’ve got a Marine sniper aboard who is quite capable of making her shot. We have to locate and capture the creature first.”
“They’ve got a tranquilizer dart and a sailboat. We’ve got two hundred gallons of MS-222 and a fucking freighter. My bet’s on us.”
Devers’ lack of concern bothered Knotts. He considered the professor a serious threat. The sailboat could travel silently, while the Pandora filled the sea with her sonar pings, propellers, and every reverberated creak and groan of its metal hull. It was like painting a bulls-eye on her hull. The Andrews was a well-armed missile frigate with a trained crew, and yet the creature almost sank it. His crew was a mixed collection of mercenaries, CIA technicians, and well-paid merchant marines. The special ops teams had experience, but the remainder took care of the ship and the submersible. They would be no good in a fight.
“I think you don’t give the professor enough credit,” he said. “He understands the habits of this creature better than we do. I wouldn’t count him out.”
Devers shrugged. “So, let him capture it, and then we take it from him. Wasn’t that the idea?”
Devers was right about that. Knotts orders had included just such a provision, but unnecessary killing made him uneasy. Some of his ethically challenged colleagues considered anyone not one of them as the enemy. Knotts’ years in the military had imbued him with a sense of honor that often clashed with his orders. To him, killing fellow Americans was a last resort.
“If it comes to that,” he agreed.
Devers noticed the hesitation in Knotts’ voice. He stared at Knotts. “Don’t tell me you’ve got a conscience, not after ten years with the Company. Hell, I’ve just been with them three years, and I don’t give a fuck about anything.”
Matthews laughed. “You didn’t give a fuck when you were working for Woods Hole.”
“True, true, but I’m even more fuckless now.”
Knotts slammed his cane down on his desk. “Enough!” he shouted. “I decide when and if we take such a course of action. Until then, I want you two back in the water. You’ll carry four canisters of MS-222 with you. That should be enough to knock out anything you encounter. If you stun the creature, you’ll deploy the lift bags and send him to the surface where we’ll tag and bag him.”
“Aw, Colonel, have a heart. I’m still stiff from the last dive,” Matthews protested, stretching his arms for emphasis.
“I don’t care if they have to pack you in oil like sardines. Get going.” He stared at Devers, who remained sitting. “You’re dismissed. You can leave my office now. We’re headed to the Andrews’ position when she was attacked. We’ll be there in an hour and a half. Have dinner, take a piss, and get that DSV back in the water and find my ceresiosaurus.”
He smiled as Devers and Matthews left his office. He enjoyed putting slackers in their place. Devers was good at his job, but he had no military training. He didn’t appreciate the chain of command. He risked nothing but his job by being obstinate. Sometimes you had to make people like him understand who the big fish in the pond was. He knew Devers would do his job.
* * * *
By 1800 hours, the Pandora had reached proper coordinates and the Nemo was back in the water. By the expression on Devers’ face as seen in the cabin monitor, he wasn’t happy about it, but the two men soon fell into the routine of the dive.
“Four thousand feet,” he reported. “Nothing on sonar.”
He repeated his message every two thousand feet until the DSV reached the twelve thousand feet mark. “We’re going to make a wide sweep of the area. Sonar at full. The bottom is another ten thousand feet below us. If we don’t find anything, I’ll take us to eighteen thousand, but that’s it.”
Devers was pushing it. Eighteen thousand was above the Nemo’s rated depth, but Knotts had wounded his pride. Knotts decided to ease up a bit on him.
“Don’t go below sixteen thousand. Don’t take any chances.”
“Copy that,” Devers replied.
For two hours, the submersible prowled the black depths, finding nothing. Knotts’ patience was wearing thin. It was like looking for a virgin in a Thai brothel. He was on the verge of cancelling the di
ve when,
“We’re picking up something. Two thousand yards and closing.”
Knotts pulse quickened. “How big is it?”
“Strange reading. It’s more like a school of sharks, big but scattered.”
“Be ready. Don’t take any chances,” Knotts warned.
The lights picked up a nightmarish creature, then several more. They were twelve to fifteen feet long and resembled harmless caterpillars, but all similarity ended there. Bristle worms. They were the creatures that had reportedly attacked the Neptune.
“Release one of the canisters and leave the area. Kill the bastards.”
“Whatever you say, Colonel,” Devers replied.
Matthews broke into the conversation. “I’m picking up something else.”
“What is it?”
“I’m not sure, but it’s damned big. It’s as big as a sub. Doing close to twenty-five knots.” Matthews’ voice remained steady, but he spoke more rapidly. “It’s almost here. The lights aren’t picking up anything.” A minute later, the camera jumped as the sub bounced wildly. “Wow! Something just passed beneath us. It felt like the wake of an aircraft carrier.”
“Deploy the MS-222,” Knotts ordered. “All of it.”
“Negative. Not yet. I’m waiting until I’m sure it’s the creature we’re after.”
A shadow appeared at the edge of the lights and hovered among the Bristle worms. With a quick snap of its jaws, it swallowed two of the creatures whole. Then it raced toward the sub. It was Knotts’ first good view of the creature. The head was larger than the buoyancy bag of the submersible. It sat on a neck twenty feet long. The body was the size of two blue whales, over two hundred feet long, with claw-tipped flippers the size of orcas. It turned at the last moment and glided over the sub. The thirty-foot tail whipped by the sub just feet away from the Plexiglas porthole. Again, the sub rolled violently.