by David Wood
Despite the current at their backs, he felt they were moving at a snail’s pace. When would the way out come? Light flared repeatedly as they passed the cameras they had set and Aston took each as motivation to get to the next.
But it was a long way from the last camera back to open water. The currents were too crazy, the distance too far. He felt his body weakening, his senses dulling, as the heaping dose of adrenaline in his system began to dissipate. The dim light of the lake loomed up ahead, but his legs were lead and his arms rubber. He had nothing left.
Slater was faring no better. She stopped, grabbed hold of the side of the passageway, and waved for him to go on without her.
Aston was having none of that. Calling on reserves of strength he hadn’t known he possessed, he took hold of her wrist and urged her forward. Together, they made their way, one exhausting inch at a time, back out into the silty deep green gloom of Lake Kaarme and kicked up for the shadow of the boat high above.
They broke the surface, gasping and flailing for the dive platform as Joaquin reached out to help them. Only when he stood on the deck again did Aston allow himself to surrender to the sheer weight of exhaustion that he had thus far held at bay. He hit the deck, rolled onto his back, and closed his eyes.
“What happened?” Joaquin’s voice sounded as if it came from miles away.
Aston sucked in deep lungsful of humid air. “Bones,” was all he could manage.
When his breathing steadied, he pushed himself up and shucked off the tank harness and removed his flippers. He turned to look for Slater and saw her halfway up the steps to the bridge, looking up onto the deck.
“What the hell is Holloway doing?” she said, eyes wide.
Chapter 30
Aston followed Slater up to the main deck. She stood staring at Holloway and Makkonen as the two men wrestled with the huge net winch. Aston remembered first seeing the winch on their original tour of the Merenneito. It seemed like a lifetime ago. He’d thought nothing more of it since, but now it filled him with dread.
Makkonen hit one of the large plastic buttons on the bulky mount and its heavy arm rotated outward with a loud whirring of internal motors until it extended over the water. He nodded to Holloway and headed back into the bridge.
Surely Holloway wasn’t planning to try to capture the creature? Then again, was there anything the man wouldn’t try? His hubris was beyond the scope of anything Aston had ever seen.
Slater’s slack-jawed expression indicated that she clearly shared his incredulity. “What the hell are you doing?” she demanded.
Holloway turned to her with a thousand watt grin. “Exciting, isn’t it? I’m glad you’re back, we can move the boat now.” He signaled to Makkonen and the Merenneito rumbled to life and began to move, chugging around a little further from shore.
“You can’t seriously be thinking about trying to capture this thing?” Aston said.
The smile didn’t leave the billionaire’s face. “Did you get the cameras in place? What did you see down there?”
“We saw huge piles of bones!” Slater yelled, striding up to him with fury twisting her features. “Human and animal. The thing is a well-practiced killer and we swam right into its home. It’s a miracle we got out alive.” She held her arms locked at her sides, white-knuckled fists trembling.
Aston realized the scare with the flipper, then what they had heard in the cavern, had clearly had a deep impact on Slater. She was furious through fear and he couldn’t blame her.
“Piles of bones?” Holloway asked. “Really? Did you get pictures?”
“Aren’t you listening to me? This thing is a carnivore, an apex predator. Nothing good will come from messing around with it.”
Holloway’s joy wilted slightly under her rage and Aston stepped between them. He adopted as calm a manner as he could. He needed to make Holloway listen, and Slater’s shouts merely bounced off the man’s Teflon exterior. Perhaps a more reasoned approach would get through.
“Listen to me. Have you never seen the King Kong movies? Or Jurassic Park? Any of that shit? This kind of thing never ends well, Holloway. Surely you can see that.”
Slater turned to him, eyes wide. “Right?” She returned her ire to Holloway. “This is about as far from a good idea as ideas can get. We’re probably in danger just floating out here where that thing can get to us, and you want to ensnare it in your little net? The best you can hope for is to make it angry.”
“You want me to shut down an expensive project when we’re right on the cusp of success. And why? Because you’re scared, not of anything real, but of what you’ve seen in movies.” Holloway’s voice quaked as his temper rose. That suppressed emotion he had let slip once or twice before bubbled to the surface like a breaching volcano. “You two are either with me or against me! And if you’re not on my side you can get the hell off my boat and you will not see one single cent of payment. I need a team, not adversaries!”
He pointed to the winch arm, now extended a good dozen feet out over the water. “We are going to deploy this net as close to the entrance to the tunnel as we can get. We are going to bait the area. When the creature comes for our bait we are going to net her. If she fights back, we can pour electricity through that net until she sees reason. This thing is state of the art. I don’t care if we do have a dinosaur on our hands. We’re not cavemen fighting with rocks and spears. This is not a movie where people are written as stupid in order to suffer and entertain the masses. This is a big, powerful boat with the most expensive equipment designed for a specific job. I will be taking that creature back with me and it will rock the world. By the end of this week, everyone will know the name of Ellis Holloway and I would greatly appreciate it if your documentary, Miss Slater, was the primary way in which people learned my name, and yours. Your name, Aston, will go down in scientific history. But it doesn’t have to be you two. Film-makers and scientists will be lining up to make my story, to be a part of this phenomenon, so I don’t actually need you. You’d better both make up your minds right now.”
Holloway was red-faced and spitting by the end of his diatribe and he strode to the bridge to oversee Makkonen’s placement of the Merenneito.
Aston and Slater were left standing in their dripping wetsuits.
“Holy shit,” Aston said. “Electrified! He’s really going to do it.”
Slater stared at the deck, slowly shaking her head. “I don’t see any way we can stop him.”
Aston chewed his bottom lip. Regardless of Holloway’s lunacy, he still needed the man’s money as much as he had at the start of this crazy venture. Slater was aware of his situation now too. He wasn’t sure what to say to her, but he was trapped. What choice did he have but to see the man’s idiotic scheme through? With any luck, the creature would make short work of the trap and destroy the equipment. They would have to leave or wait for replacement gear and he could find a way to take what he was owed and walk. Or at least, he hoped he could.
“It pains me to admit it, but he’s right.” Slater’s voice was thin, tired out.
Aston frowned. “Right about what?”
“People would line up for a shot at filming this debacle. And I have all the previous footage, everything leading up to this point. Whether he’s successful in catching it or not, and I really hope he’s not, either way, that’s the whole story. I have to get it all or I’ve got nothing. And besides, you’re kinda locked in, right?”
Aston winced. “Well, yeah, but don’t make this about me. You could walk even if I can’t.”
“And I’d walk with nothing except an unfinished film. Whoever has the end footage, they’ll be the people with something. Someone with Holloway’s resources could easily re-enact everything up to this point if he chose to. He’s got copies of the footage the boat recorded, after all, and all the data.”
They stood in silence for a moment. Aston weighed his options.
There were no good ones, it seemed.
“God, it pains me to let him think he’s right,” Slater said eventually.
“Right or wrong in this instance, he’ll always be a dickhead,” Aston said. “That’s something that’ll never change.”
Slater smiled, though a little reluctantly. “How dangerous is this going to get?”
Aston looked away, out over the water. “I honestly don’t know,” he said truthfully.
Holloway emerged from the bridge as Makkonen killed the Merenneito’s engines.
“Have you two come to your senses?” he asked.
Aston put a hand on Slater’s forearm to forestall any biting remarks. “It seems we have little choice,” he said. “But let it be noted for the record that we both think this is a bad idea. A very bad idea.”
Holloway went to the winch controls. “So noted.” He hit some buttons and more internal whirring sounded. The net began to unfurl from the arm.
Aston glanced around and saw Carly standing nearby with the camera rolling, capturing everything. He wondered if she’d quietly filmed the argument and his subsequent conversation with Slater and decided she probably had. Dave had been a big guy, hard to miss, but Carly was a camera ninja.
Holloway stood back as the huge net sank into the lake. He signaled Makkonen and the boat revved again and slowly backup up, dragging the net out to its full width. He turned to Aston and made a tight smile. “This is how they used to capture killer whales.” It was unnerving how quickly the man could return to an even keel once he’d gotten his way. “Except our net is much bigger, stronger, reinforced. And electrified, of course, with a charge that could stun an elephant.”
“I reckon our friend down there is a lot bigger than an elephant,” Aston said. “A bloody shame you weren’t recording already when we just had to swim for our lives, else you might already have all the footage you need.”
Holloway ignored his comment. “Whales were usually driven into the net with boats and explosive charges. We need something else. This is your area of expertise, Aston. How do we attract our prize?”
Aston hesitated. Standing by and watching Holloway at work was one thing, but actively participating was something else. Might as well get it over with as quickly as possible. “I can’t say with any certainty. We could sink a speaker and play sounds of seals underwater, maybe. That might draw her out. But understand, I’m clutching at straws here.”
“I like how you keep calling it ‘her’,” Slater said. “Are you still thinking of your ex?” Her tone was as stiff as her posture.
Aston almost managed a grin. “Haven’t had any reason yet to change that assumption.”
They shared a soft smile, but the tension was thick. They had narrowly escaped death and now they would try to draw the creature to them. Madness!
“Let’s try that then, to start with,” Holloway said. He turned to Joaquin. “Meanwhile, I need you to take the dinghy into town and do as we said before, okay?”
“Got it, boss.” Joaquin nodded and trotted off.
“What did you say before?” Slater asked.
“Joaquin is going to pick up some livestock, a few sheep or goats or something, and bring them out here. If nothing else works, we’ll drop them into the water inside the net’s radius. I figure their cries for help will attract our quarry if nothing else does. I mean, the thing’s got to eat, doesn’t it?”
Slater and Aston shared a glance. The look in her eyes conveyed her agreement that Holloway was disappearing down Loony Tunes Highway at a furious rate of speed.
Aston sighed. “I suppose it does.”
Chapter 31
The low music and dull conversation melded together in a gray miasma. It fit perfectly with the fog that filled Superintendent Rinne’s head as he propped his elbows on the bar and inwardly fumed. What was he going to do about Pieter Lehtonen? What could he tell Adalina, worrying herself sick at home? And that damned Holloway, what about that fool? This wasn’t how things were supposed to operate. He was the authority here.
The bartender poured another measure of brandy and slid the glass across the scratched surface.
“Thanks, Timo,” Rinne said, without looking up. He swirled the spirit around and imagined a whirlpool sucking Holloway’s ship down into the depths and taking the arrogant American along with it.
“What’s on your mind, Paavo?” Timo leaned against the bar and gave his usual polite smile. Whether or not he actually cared about what was bothering Rinne, who could say? The man was good at his job, and he listened to his regulars’ tales of woe without complaint.
Rinne shook his head. “Rich foreigners and their illegal activities.”
Timo’s brow furrowed. “Illegal? Isn’t that the sort of thing you’re required to do something about?”
“There’s nothing I can prove yet,” he admitted, “but they’re up to something.”
Timo nodded, leaned one elbow on the dark wood, and leaned a little closer. “They claim to be making a nature documentary. What could be illegal about that? Lack of proper permits?”
“You said it yourself,” Rinne barked, gesturing with his glass. “They ‘claim’ that’s what they’re up to. But I’m sure it’s more than that.”
“Hold on a minute.” Timo moved away to serve another customer. As he returned, the public smile leaked off his face. “They were in here not long ago, asking a lot of questions,” he said. “They wanted to know about one of their number who had gone missing.”
Rinne took a swallow of brandy, enjoyed the fiery sensation in his throat. He hoped its heat would dissolve the mist that clouded his thoughts. “They came to me about that too. No one seems to know where the man is. I think they know more about it than they’re letting on.”
“And what about Pieter?” Timo asked. “Has he come back yet?”
Rinne scowled and shook his head. “The last time he was seen anywhere, it was by me when I sent him out to investigate their boat. He never returned.” He wasn’t sure why he had admitted this to the barman. Guilt maybe? One too many brandies loosening his tongue? But worry was preying on his mind and he needed to set it free. “That compounds my suspicion. Two disappearances in quick succession associated with their crew.”
Timo cupped his chin and gazed at some indeterminate spot in the distance. Rinne waited for the man to say something, to tell him he was correct, but nothing.
“Don’t you think they’re hiding something? Maybe their man was going to spill the secret, so they took steps to silence him.”
“And you think Pieter uncovered that same secret, whatever it was.”
Rinne nodded vigorously. “That exactly.”
Timo was quiet for a moment, and then he leaned forward, close to Rinne’s ear. “I don’t know about any secrets, but they were asking about the creature,” he said quietly.
Rinne looked up, eyes narrowed. He felt as if he’d been suddenly submerged in ice water. The monster. “What about it?”
“All about it. They wanted to know the legends, the stories. I told them to go and talk to Old Mo.”
Rinne hissed. “That crazy bastard.” He absent-mindedly fingered the bruise on his cheekbone.
Timo wagged one finger, remembering something. “And you know what else? They’ve also got that nutter Alvar Laine on their payroll.”
“I know that. Nature documentary! Laine is obsessed with the legend of the lake creature, always has been. They’re clearly monster hunters.”
Timo picked up a rag and began wiping down the bar. “It would seem likely.”
“What else could it be? They may well be making a documentary, but they’re obviously trying to expose things about our legends here. If they’re operating under the pretense of a nature film then perhaps their permissions are not in order. If they’ve lied about their intentions to get the right permits, I can send them away in an
instant. Get some peace and quiet back into this community.”
Timo shrugged. “Are they really that disruptive? Why are you so keen to see them gone? What’s the harm in letting them poke around? They aren’t going to find anything, and I’m sure they’re injecting a spot of cash into the local economy.” He stopped wiping and flipped the rag so it hung over his shoulder. “Sounds to me like this is a problem that will solve itself if you just let it alone.”
Rinne opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by someone shouting his name from the door. He looked around to see Mikael, the town’s other deputy, scanning the bar. When the man’s eyes fell on his boss, he trotted over.
“Sorry to bother you off-duty.” He took off his cap and ran his hand through his thinning hair. “It’s important, though.”
Rinne flapped a hand. “What is it?”
“A visiting fisherman just came in from a day on the lake. Told me he found an empty boat a few kilometers around the shore. He looked everywhere, called out, but couldn’t find anyone. He said he did find some blood on the rocks near the tree line. Quite a lot of it. He showed me photos on his phone.” Mikael lowered his gaze to the floor.
“And?” Rinne asked, already knowing the answer.
“Well, he towed the boat back and I had a look over it. It’s definitely ours. Must be the one Pieter took out.”
Rinne stood, anger flaring up from his gut. “That’s it! These people are most definitely up to something and they must know more about Pieter’s disappearance. And their own missing crew member.” He pointed to the deputy. “Go and gather all the reserves. We need a group organized as soon as possible.”
“A… a group? For what?”