Greg stared as he shook hands with the tall cetaceanist. “The WCS, eh? So, you think a rogue whale did this?”
“I don’t have an opinion yet,” Amara said. “I’m here to get a look at the damage to this boat and to compare my findings to yours. We’ll see where we go from there.”
Jake took a step toward the Sayonara. “So, did you guys find anything?”
“Not much,” Paul said, following him. “You were definitely right about what you called in.” He gestured at the ravaged stern portion. “From the looks of things, something very large, and organic, rose up out of the water and came down on top of the transom.”
Moving closer to the damaged section, Paul dropped down on one knee. He gestured for Jake and Amara. “If you look at the crushed portion, you can see how the wood has been pressed down at a steep angle. Whatever did this placed a tremendous amount of weight on the stern of the boat. Enough to crack the hull, in fact,” he added meaningfully. “It also dragged itself sideways across the stern, pulling wood and fiberglass as it went. You can see the drag marks here.”
Amara knelt down next to him. “You said it was organic?”
“Yes. We extricated this from one of the broken beams.” Paul reached into his shirt pocket and removed a fluid-filled test tube. Swirling around inside was a ragged strip of dark-colored tissue as thick as a man’s thumb.
“Do you mind?” Amara asked, eagerly. She thanked him with a smile as he handed her the test tube. “Any idea what it’s from?”
“I’m no marine biologist,” Paul said. “But I think it’s an epidermal fragment from some animal. Tough stuff, though. I had to pull it free with a pair of pliers.”
Amara held the shimmering tube to the waning light, twisting it to and fro as she examined its contents. “Can I keep this? I’d like to run some tests.”
“Uh, I’m . . . not sure,” Paul said. He glanced at Jake. “It’s up to you, brother. I can loan it to her, but you’ll have to sign for it.”
“No problem. Did you take blood samples?”
“Of course. That was another strange thing.”
“Strange? What do you mean?” Jake asked as he scribbled his name on a form Greg held out for him.
The forensicologist moved over to the Sayonara’s starboard. “There’s an awful lot of blood here. Until the samples we extracted are evaluated I won’t know for sure, but it’s highly unlikely all of this came from one person.”
Jake’s imagination began weaving gory nightmares.
“I could be wrong about the pattern,” Paul emphasized. “I mean, there’s blood everywhere. But for all of this to have come from a single victim, well . . . not to sound gruesome, but whoever this was, they’d have to be thrown into a giant meat grinder to be sprayed all over like this.”
His face impassive, Jake’s eyes traveled out past the marina, beyond the docked sailboats and charters, toward the waiting sea.
“Thanks, Paul,” he said. “I appreciate you coming down. You guys about done?”
“Looks that way, brother,” he said, shaking Jake’s hand again before grabbing his bags and gesturing for his assistant. “I’ll call you with the results of the blood work. It was nice meeting you, Dr. Takagi!” he yelled over his shoulder. The two men moved up onto the landing and made their way to their vehicle.
“Well, they were very cooperative,” Amara said. She held up the test tube as the two men drove off.
“We go way back,” Jake replied.
“How come you didn’t tell them about the tooth?”
Jake hesitated. He drummed his fingertips on the bag he carried, then turned toward the Sayonara. “I don’t know. Maybe I think you’ll do a better job. You seem to know your stuff. Anyway, we’re running out of daylight. Let’s get onboard and see what your spin is on what happened.”
Stepping over the Bertram’s gunnels, Jake extended his hand.
A thousand yards from the Sayonara, the creature studied Harcourt Marina with interest. Attracted to the lights that danced like fireflies in the growing darkness, it cruised into the shallows to observe the tiny mammals moving. Cautious, it remained where it was, its vast bulk concealed beneath the murky waters. Every half hour it rose to breathe, its glittering eyes and blowhole breaking the surface. It was wary of the spinning props attached to the ever-present boats and submerged whenever one approached. Adjusting its buoyancy with an exhalation, it drifted noiselessly to the bottom and remained there until all was calm. To the mammals on the surface, it was invisible.
The creature’s pursuit of the bothersome black and yellow Jet Ski had awakened its vast appetite. Already, the first pangs of hunger were assailing its highly-evolved digestive system. The irrepressible urge to hunt and kill gnawed at it, yet the barrage of loud noises and lights kept it at bay. Soon, darkness would fall upon the surrounding waters. Then it would travel into the shallower portions of the nearby harbor. And feed.
TWELVE
Karl Von Freiling opened his eyes. He sat up in the back seat, cursing at having added a stiff neck to his collection of aches and pains. He checked his watch.
“Pull over at this rest area, Aziz,” he said a moment later. “I gotta shake hands with the champ.”
The Pakistani’s reflection in the rearview mirror was one of befuddlement.
“The champ? You mean one of your celebrated boxing champions is here?”
“No, man. I gotta take a piss!”
“Oh, uh . . . you got it, boss.”
As his driver merged right and guided the Dodge Caravan toward the exit ramp, Von Freiling reached into his bag for the cell phone he’d picked up in Seattle. He gave the device’s instructions a cursory glance before ripping apart the packaging. After inserting the batteries and giving it a quick check, he slipped the phone into his shirt pocket.
“Here’s fine,” he said, gesturing at a nearby burger joint. As they rolled into an open spot, he popped open the door and stepped out. “You want anything?”
“Sure thing, boss,” Aziz replied eagerly. “A classic triple combo with a coke would be great.”
“You got it.” Von Freiling closed the door, dismissing the notion of taking the mini-vans’ keys. With no money in hand yet, and nearly four hours separating him from home, the odds of his driver reneging on their arrangement were slim. He grinned with satisfaction as he headed toward the men’s room. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Aziz pull over to the nearest gas pump.
Von Freiling headed into the men’s room. He emerged a moment later and loped around the corner, heading for a secluded hillock located directly behind the building. He extracted his phone and punched in a number. The recipient picked up on the first ring.
“Hello?” a gruff voice said.
“Hey, Stubbs. It’s me,” he muttered. He kept his voice low as he peeked around the corner.
“Me who?”
“Don’t be funny, asshole. It’s your fucking boss.”
There was a deep chuckle. “Sorry, brother. Didn’t recognize the number.”
“It’s a disposable. Anyway, you saw the newscast?”
“Hell yeah, everybody did. We’re at the proving grounds. What the fuck happened?”
Von Freiling paused as two giggling co-eds, shoulder to shoulder, raced each other into the women’s bathroom. He hoped for their sake it was cleaner than the men’s.
“It was a set-up.”
“What do you mean?”
“Our wealthy “benefactor” was full of shit. Giant octopus, my ass. He was looking to hire muscle to help him move a shipment of coke.”
“No shit.”
“Yeah. When we turned him down things got ugly. Next thing I knew, we ended up in a firefight with his crew, and his buyer’s boys as well.
“Damn.”
“Yep, it was like the Gulf all over again. Lost the entire team.”
“The bodies?”
Von Freiling’s eyes tightened, his face closing up like a fortress battening down. He hated the thought of
leaving men behind. “I had to let them burn with the boat. Couldn’t risk the cops linking us to that scumbag.”
There was a moment of silence on the line.
“Man, that’s some fucked-up shit.”
Von Freiling nodded. “Fucking-A. Anyway, we’ve got problems way beyond the mission. Not only did we lose four guys, we never got paid. And, we lost everything we brought: the boat, underwater surveillance gear, night vision scopes, re-breathers, weapons, ammo – you name it. We’re looking at a loss of seven hundred easy. Plus, you know we’re gonna get sued on top of it.”
“By who, relatives?”
“Hell, yeah. Lincoln had no family, but the other guys all did. Smitty had three kids. You met that fat-ass wife of his. You know that bitch is gonna want something.”
“You gonna settle with them?”
Von Freiling hesitated. “We’ll see. By the way, how’re my babies doing?”
“Sleek and sexy. We’ve got em fired up and ready to rock.”
“Good. About time I got some good news. Besides nearly getting my ass shot off and having to swim five miles in pitch-black, shark infested seas, I had the fucking press all over me when I checked out of the motel, trying to link someone to the missing boats. I had to take the only flight I could find, and it was economy all the way.”
“We’ve flown worse,” Stubbs snickered.
“Drops are different,” Von Freiling said. Two snickering potheads headed his way, looking for a place to light up. He lowered his voice. “Hey, I gotta go. I’ll call you once I get settled in and we’ll discuss meeting with some prospective clients.”
“Works for me.”
There was a sharp click as Stubbs abruptly hung up. Von Freiling smirked. Rude bastard never did say goodbye. He was halfway to the cab when he stopped dead in his tracks. He snapped his fingers and whirled back around.
Damn. Forgot the camel jockey’s murder-burger . . .
Even in near darkness, Jake could see Amara’s face looked ashen.
“That was a pretty horrifying scene back there,” she said.
“Yeah, it certainly was.”
The two made their way along the deserted landing. Here and there, the silence was broken by the noise of couples sneaking off to their boats, or frolicking patrons flowing in and out of the Cove Hove. It was a far cry from the chaos two hours earlier.
Jake watched an obviously inebriated couple staggering arm in arm out of the bar. They headed toward a nearby docked sailboat. Suddenly, the giggling woman lost a shoe and her footing and dropped to the ground. Her smiling companion laughed aloud as he was dragged down with her. As he watched them trying to get up, only to fall all over each other, Jake had a momentary glimpse of himself two years prior. He shuddered, shutting out the memory to focus on the here and now.
“So, what do you think happened?” he probed.
He was careful not to press the marine biologist too hard, figuring the bloodbath onboard the Sayonara had to be rough on her.
“Well, Jake,” Amara paused to watch the last sliver of the sun’s shimmering orb disappear beyond the horizon. “I think your theory on the attack, and an attack it was, turned out to be fairly accurate.” She hugged herself as a cool breeze from the harbor gave her goose bumps. “I think your poor friends had an encounter with an unknown marine carnivore, one big enough to reach onboard a fishing yacht and snatch up two grown men like they were nothing. And at least one of them was sitting in the Sayonara’s fighting chair when it grabbed him. That suggests our mystery predator has a bite powerful enough to reduce a heavy wood and metal chair to kindling in a single crunch.”
Jake cursed and shook his head. “But you have no idea what it is? Is there anything known to have teeth like this,” he hefted the canvas bag he carried. “And capable of doing what we saw?”
“I’m afraid not, Jake. It must be a new species. If I could log onto Archimedes I could at least confirm that much.”
“Do you have to be onboard your ship to access the system?”
“What did you have in mind?”
“We have a high speed connection back at my office. And a lost and found full of digital cameras. Will that work?”
“That might do the job.” Amara said. She looked wearily around. “But, it’s getting late and I’m tired. Can this wait until morning?”
Jake stopped walking, “Doc, this thing is eating people. We can’t wait. We need to find out what it is now.”
Amara flushed. “You’re right, of course. In that case, get me the number for a hotel, because without the use of our servers Archimedes will take several hours to do a complete search. I doubt either of us is going to be in any shape to go bouncing back to the Harbinger in the middle of the night.”
Jake smirked at her. “A hotel in this town, in June, without a reservation? You’ve got to be kidding me, doc.” He led her to his SUV and held the door. Closing it, he walked around and clambered inside. “We’re booked solid from now until the end of July.”
“Wonderful. So, what am I supposed to do, crash in your truck?”
For the second time since he met her, Amara’s eyes revealed a glimmer of apprehension.
“Let’s see . . .” Jake grinned as he clicked his seatbelt. “There’s a sofa in my office you’re welcome to crash on. We’ve also got a well stocked refrigerator and a full-sized bathroom, one my fanatical secretary keeps absolutely spotless. It’s not glamorous, but I spent quite a few nights on that sofa before I got my apartment, and let me tell you, it beats sleeping in the backseat.”
Amara chuckled. “I guess that will have to do. By the time I get off your computer, it’ll look like the Hilton!”
Jake slid his key into the truck’s ignition and started her up. He sat there, his gaze steady and unwavering as he waited for the V-8 engine to warm up. Beside him, Amara shifted her weight as she leaned tiredly back in her seat.
“Hey, Jake?”
“Yes, doc?”
The cetaceanist’s lips parted, but she hesitated. “The man who owned the Sayonara, I heard your friend say his name was Phil?”
He nodded. “Phil Starling. He was her captain. His nephew’s name was Steve.”
“You knew them well?”
“Steve, I just met. But Captain Phil, I’ve known since I was a kid. He was a great guy. When I was fourteen, I started working for him as his first mate.”
Amara sat upright. “When you were fourteen?”
He nodded. “Yep. Every summer, all the way until high school graduation.”
“That seems awfully young.”
“There wasn’t much choice. If Captain Phil hadn’t hired me when he did, I probably would’ve starved.” Jake’s mind wandered for a moment. “I’m sure he always knew that. Of course, he was far too classy to ever say it.”
“I don’t understand. Where were your parents?”
Jake’s lips grew taut. He realized it was his turn to hesitate. “They . . . went away unexpectedly. I was left with no money or food for nearly a month.”
Amara was aghast. “My God, that’s awful. Who would do such a thing?”
“My father. He took all the money and food my mother left. She didn’t know, and I never told her. He had some warped idea that the experience would make a man out of me.”
“Did it?”
Jake looked at her. “Oh, yes, but not the broken kind he was.”
“Good for you. I’m amazed you survived.”
“You’ve survived worse things, doc.”
Amara’s eyes closed for a second. “Yeah . . . Well, regardless, I’m sorry your dad was such an asshole.”
He chuckled.
“What?” Amara’s expression of confusion bordered on offense.
“Nothing. It’s just, I’ve never heard you use foul language before.” He smirked. “It’s very . . . refreshing.”
Amara’s face colored and she shook her head. “Sorry, I must be more tired than I thought.”
“No problem.” Jake smiled
and leaned in closer to her. “How about your dad – how was he?”
“He was great. Unfortunately, he wasn’t around much when I was little. He was a Sea Crusade activist, so he traveled around a lot. My grandparents raised me, mostly.”
“What about your mom?”
“I never knew her. When I was still a baby, she died suddenly.”
Jake’s expression softened. “I’m sorry to hear that. I don’t think I would’ve survived without mine. She was my world.”
“Thanks, but it’s okay.” Amara sighed. “My world is the sea these days. It’s pretty much all I know.”
“Not anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
He winked at her. “Well, now you get to tell people you know me.”
Amara smirked and shifted position once more. Her eyes began to close. “Oh, brother. And here I was hoping that was one skeleton I could keep hidden in my closet . . .”
Jake grinned as he shifted the big Tahoe into gear and pulled smoothly out of his parking spot, taking care not to jostle his tired passenger or the bag he’d deposited in the glove compartment. Beside him, Amara rested her head against the cool side window, her eyes staring wearily at the moonlit waters of the harbor as they vanished from view.
Neither of them noticed the strange object cruising through the marina, or the slow-moving wake trailing it – a wake strong enough to disturb several boats in their slips.
“Hey, Jake, do you have anything to weigh the tooth?” Amara asked from behind the monitor. A few minutes after arriving at the sheriff’s station, she was already hard at work, prepping her impromptu research facility.
“One sec,” Jake yelled from the front office. “I’m locking up.”
As time passed, Amara got lost in her task. She was so focused on her research she jumped when Jake walked into the room.
“Geez, you scared me!”
Jake tried not to laugh. “Doc, you spend your days around ten-ton fish, and I scare you?”
Amara’s eyes crinkled up as she peeked over her screen. “So, any luck?”
KRONOS RISING: After 65 million years, the world's greatest predator is back. Page 23