“It’s dead,” Jake announced. He cricked his neck to one side. “We killed it a little over an hour ago.”
Dobbs’ jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”
“Actually, the doc killed it,” Jake said, grinning proudly. He put his arm around Amara’s shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze.
“Oh, stop. You helped plenty, silly,” Amara said, flushing at the praise. “And don’t think I’m paying that fine by myself!”
“That’s amazing,” Dobbs said.
Amara shook her head. “Amazing wouldn’t begin to cover it, but at least it’s over. By the way, you didn’t answer my question, captain.”
Dobbs folded his arms across his chest. He glanced up and spotted O’Malley and his men marching a disheveled Haruto Nakamura out of the ship’s bridge. “Actually, we’ve been after that bastard for years, but he’s so slippery he’s always managed to evade us.”
“How so?” Jake asked. He shifted the weight of the cloth-wrapped swords and watched as the Oshima’s captain was led down the bridge’s steps, heading in their direction.
“He’s a tactical genius,” Dobbs admitted. “He knows the sea lanes and currents better than anyone, where to hide, and how to use other ships to cover his trail.” He indicated the vessel they stood upon. “And whatever ship he commands is the best the Japanese have: stealthy and incredibly fast. He also tends to stay well outside the twelve mile limit, loitering just inside our Economic Exclusive Zone, so he’s got plenty of room to maneuver if he has to make a break for it.”
“Sounds like a worthy adversary,” Jake commented.
Dobbs snorted. “A pirate nonetheless.” He pointed past them to a series of turret-like stations. “You see those big winches? He designed them. He’s able to ditch his lines, so we’ve never been able to catch him in the act until now, thanks to you.”
Amara cocked a brow. “To us?”
“Yes. Once our LRIT satellites started zooming in on your buoys, we focused them on this entire area. With no boating traffic to conceal them, once she crossed into U.S. territorial waters, the Oshima stood out like a sore thumb.” Dobbs smirked as Haruto came within earshot. “I choked on my coffee when we confirmed it was her. Even though we missed nailing the monster, we ended up with one helluva consolation prize.”
Jake watched as Amara’s uncle was brought before them. His hands were bound behind him, his eyes focused straight ahead. The lawman recalled all the dirtbag criminals he’d seen on the news: murderers and rapists, covering their heads in shame with their t-shirts to hide their faces from the public. Though his hair was mussed and his jacket torn, Haruto walked with perfect posture and his head held high.
Dobbs regarded his prisoner with cool deliberation, obviously expecting a reaction. When he got none, he glanced at O’Malley. The freckled Coastguardsman was carrying a large clipboard, jam-packed with papers. “Alright, what’ve we got, lieutenant?”
O’Malley gave his superior a crocodile smile, before handing over his evidence. “We arrived just as he was preparing to delete all the files from the ship’s mainframe, sir. I grabbed all their logs. I even managed to print up their coded catch list.”
Dobbs removed his glasses, squinting as he flipped through the first few pages. His eyes widened. “Captain Nakamura, you and your entire crew are under arrest for violation of the Economic Exclusion Zone of the United States of America, as well as international bans on harvesting shark fins.” He held the heavy clipboard up for emphasis. “Both your ship and its cargo are seized as evidence. And I hope they put you away for a long time. You’re a bigger threat to our oceans than a hundred pliosaurs.”
Dobbs waited for a rebuttal. When none was forthcoming, he waved Haruto off with a dismissive hand. “Confine him to his quarters, men. And post a guard inside.”
Jake studied Amara’s expression as her uncle was led wordlessly away. She caught him staring.
“What?” she asked. “Don’t look at me like that. Dobbs is right. It is what it is.”
Jake pursed his lips. Yeah . . . I know.” He turned to the captain. “So, what happens now?”
Dobbs handed the clipboard to a nearby warrant officer. “I’m taking command of the Oshima. We’ll sail her back to base, where she’ll be impounded as evidence. This situation is a political mess. A lot of people are going to have egg on their faces.”
“You mean shark fin soup . . .” Jake corrected, causing Amara to roll her eyes.
Dobbs straightened up, uttering a groan as he stretched his lean arms high overhead. “I’m going to take a quick tour of the ship. In the meantime, I’ll have my medical officer sent over to check you two out. I’m sure they have a better sick bay here than on my cutter. Afterwards, if you’d like, I’ll be happy to offer you two the hospitality of my quarters onboard the Freedom until we make port. It’s the least I can do.”
Jake exchanged tactful glances with Amara, then struggled to clear his surprisingly dry throat. “Sure, that would be great. Thanks.”
“Excellent. It’ll just be a few minutes.”
“We’ll be here,” Jake said after him.
Amara waited until Dobbs disappeared. “That would be great, eh?”
“What? No, I mean, I figured we could use a few minutes to relax after our ordeal.”
“Oh, really?” She studied him long and hard through her lashes. “You sure this has nothing to do with your ‘it’s been three years’ routine? I mean, that’s a long time . . .”
Despite his best efforts, Jake found himself grinning. Unable to hold her gaze, he looked sheepishly away, his downcast eyes trying to drill a hole through the ship’s painted decks. He shook his head vigorously. “Positive, doc.”
“Okay, then.” Amara smirked and poked him in the chest with her index finger. “And let’s get something straight, mister. Just because you were willing to die with me doesn’t mean you’ll have it easy, understand?” Ignoring Jake’s stunned protestations, she turned and began working her way along the ship’s railing, past the guards and kneeling prisoners, until she reached the opening leading to Eurypterid II. The mini-sub was still bound securely in place, and gave no signs of budging as the Oshima wallowed with the afternoon tide.
Jake excused himself as he limped past a nearby sentry. He drew close and stared over Amara’s shoulder. “So what will you do now, doc? I mean, you lost everything when the Harbinger sank, didn’t you?”
“No way.” Amara grinned. “That ship was fully insured. Don’t worry; I’ll get my thirty percent back, and then some. Besides, I’m staring at a veritable goldmine right now!”
“You mean the Eurypterid?”
She laughed. “Yes, my dear swordsman. Remember, Karl and I were still married. What’s mine was his, as he so happily boasted. And vice versa.”
“I see.” Jake smirked approvingly. “So, what are you going to do with it?”
“Who knows?” Amara pondered. “It would certainly make a great prototype to develop a new line of undersea exploration vehicles. Or, maybe I’ll consider acquiring some military contracts . . .”
“Good for you.” Jake smiled and rested his forearms on the ship’s railing. For the first time since the creature appeared, he was able to close his eyes and relax. He listened to the sounds of whitecaps slapping willy-nilly against the Oshima’s hull, and reveled in the refreshing feel of sea spray racing down his face and forearms. He opened his eyes and ended up locking gazes with the setting sun, its glowing ruby orb glaring down at him.
Jake held the sun’s stare for a moment, then ran his tongue contemplatively over his teeth. “Say, doc. You don’t think there are any more pliosaurs running around out there, do you?”
“Maybe.” Amara nodded. “Although, I certainly hope not.”
“Well, if there are more, I’ll tell you now.” Jake shook his head emphatically. “They better find someone else to go after them, because my days of hunting sea monsters are officially over!”
“Mine too. Oh, and one other thin
g, mister,” Amara said, smiling.
“Yes, doc?”
“I’m sick and tired of all this ‘doc’ shit. I told you the day we met, my name is Amara. It’s not ‘doc’, or even doctor, for that matter.”
“I know, doc, I know . . .” Jake winked at her. “You’re not into titles.”
“Exactly.” Amara laughed aloud and grabbed onto the railing with her hands. Leaning back, she rested her upper back against his chest.
A gust of wind blew her long hair into Jake’s face like a silk cloak. He sucked in an involuntary breath and angled his head, rubbing the edge of his jaw softly against the crown of her head, inhaling deeply. He sighed contentedly. Even after everything they’d been through, she still smelled fantastic. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling her cheeks contract against his forearm as she smiled. A moment later, she whirled unexpectedly around and threw her arms around his neck. As their lips became one, Jake felt the nagging pain of his collective injuries vanish. Even the nightmare he’d just lived through was momentarily forgotten. He hugged Amara tightly, feeling her warmth pressed against him. His senses soared, and he rested his cheek against that of the woman he loved. He smiled. For the first time in three very long years, all was right in his world.
High above, the evening sun continued to shine down on the Oshima and those populating its decks, its unfettered brilliance creating a shimmering sea of scarlet as far as the human eye could see.
EPILOGUE
It was late summer on the tiny island, and the midday sun’s rays warmed the seagull’s body as it soared high above a virgin stretch of sand. The bird cried out as it flew, flapping its brown-tipped wings against the stiff breeze, circling in its endless quest for food.
Hovering a hundred feet above a lone palm frond, the seagull scanned the low-lying dunes below it, its eyes alert for signs of movement or danger. The gull was waiting for something – something its engrained memories and collective experiences assured it would soon take place.
It was waiting for the baby sea turtles, nestled within their buried nests, to claw their way through their flexible eggshells to the surface as they always did this time of year. At any moment, the surfaces of the sand dunes would erupt, releasing thousands of defenseless hatchlings from the seclusion of their pitch-black nurseries into the searing daylight. Freed from the confines of their sandy wombs, the tiny newborns would begin their arduous struggle toward the beckoning surf.
The seagull’s jagged beak whipped to one side. It spotted a hint of movement on the sand far below. Circling around for a second look, it strained its bright yellow eyes to make sure. The brownie was old and wanted to be the first to line up at the feeding trough, giving itself the chance to stuff itself without the risk of injury from competing with younger birds.
Adjusting its wings once more, the seabird focused hard on the shifting sand.
The mass exodus of the turtle hatchlings had begun.
With its beady eyes transfixed on the first glistening form bursting through to the surface, the gull spread its beak wide and uttered its shrill predatory cry. Tucking its slender wings against its body, the grizzled bird plunged directly toward its victim.
Far below, the oblivious turtle struggled to make its way toward the water, using its four, paddle-shaped flippers to move it forward.
The ravenous bird straightened the vertebrae of its neck like a tiny battering ram. Accelerating, it pointed its bony beak directly at its target. As it careened toward the immobile turtle, the old bird’s instincts whispered that something wasn’t right. Its target was much closer than it appeared . . .
. . . or much larger.
Its eyes widening in alarm, the gull flared its wings out on both sides, spreading its maneuvering feathers wide in a desperate attempt to break its downward momentum.
Lunging upward, the newborn Kronosaurus imperator snatched its astonished victim out of the air. Its jaws closed hard, sinking inch-long teeth deep into the screeching bird’s body, ending its hysterical flapping in a single bite.
The five-foot marine reptile held the dead gull high in the air, shifting it until it could be swallowed headfirst. It tossed its head back to ingest its prey, but was frustrated by the sheer size of the meal.
Aggravated, the hatchling shook its head from side to side. Opening and closing its jaws repeatedly, it used its interlocking teeth like a pair of scissors. With sharp snaps, it sheared off the obstructive wings of its victim. They fluttered down like palm fronds, spiraling onto the blood-spattered sands below. Raising its head once more, it swallowed the seagull in a few quick gulps.
Now satiated, the carnivore licked its scaly snout with its thick tongue. It lowered its head onto a nearby dune, rubbing the edges of its mouth on the dry sand in an effort to remove the feathers that clung to its bloody lips. Its repast complete, the miniature monster sat boldly upright, its body elevated off the sand by its sturdy flippers.
The male pliosaur remained still, his ruby eyes blinking repeatedly. Gender notwithstanding, he was a miniature duplicate of his gigantic mother, the lone female that crawled ashore several months prior, to lay her eggs beneath the sand as her ancestors had for millions of years.
Looking warily around, the ocean’s future king watched as dozens of his brethren emerged from the nest. Their scaly little muzzles straining, they pushed their way past the clinging white sand, greedily sucking in their first lungfuls of fresh air. They were all similar in size to the young male, their inherent sexual dimorphism not evident as yet.
Uncomfortable sitting in the open with the oppressive heat radiating off the white sand below, the baby Kronosaurus made his way down toward the pounding surf. Waddling along with his body low to the ground and his wedge-shaped head held high, the fledgling super-predator plunged into an oncoming wave, disappearing from view.
Behind him came his brothers and sisters – nearly eighty in all. Circling high above, a handful of gulls remained wisely out of reach. Oblivious to the frightened birds, the pliosaur hatchlings continued their mass migration. Already formidable predators, with no natural enemies once they reached adulthood, they spread out into the surrounding sea, reveling in the water that encompassed them.
A single hatchling remained at the water’s edge. She was similar in build to the others, but darker in hue and noticeably larger. Peering enigmatically about the beach, she studied the tiny island and the nondescript patch of sand she came from before turning toward the welcoming swells. Her instincts were derived from her ancestor’s eons-long confinement within the caldera, and would serve her and the other newborns well. Inherently fearful of the cannibalistic adults of their kind, she and her brood-mates would remain within the sheltering shallows that surrounded the island, concealing themselves within submerged coral reefs and kelp beds until they were large enough to fend for themselves.
When that time came, they would multiply and spread to all the oceans of the world. Without equal, their power and ferocity would make them the greatest predators the planet had ever seen, and all the creatures of the sea would be their prey. Eventually, they would reclaim that which their forebears relinquished sixty five million years ago: undisputed dominance of three-quarters of the planet.
Gazing one last time at the remote shore that was her birthplace, the last of the pliosaur hatchlings shook her head and snorted before turning toward the beckoning surf. Filling her lungs with air, she plunged headfirst through the trough of a cresting wave. Propelled forward by powerful thrusts, she cruised past the pounding breakers, out toward the deeper waters of a nearby reef.
Spread out below her like some vast azure carpet, the unsuspecting sea waited.
THE END
GLOSSARY OF NAUTICAL/MARINE TERMS
Abyssal Plains: vast underwater plains at the bottom of the ocean, with water depths typically ranging from 3,000-6,000 meters. Largely unexplored, they represent more than 50% of the Earth’s surface.
Acoustics: the science and study of mechanical waves in liqu
ids, solids, and gases. This includes vibrations, as well as sound, ultrasound, and infrasound waves.
Aft: Naval terminology, used to indicate the stern or rear of a ship. “Aft section” indicates the rear portion of a ship.
Beam: A ship’s width at its widest point.
Berth: A designated location where a boat or ship is moored (attached), usually for purposes of loading and unloading passengers or cargo.
Bow: The foremost point of the hull of a boat or ship.
Bridge: The room or point on a boat or ship from which it is commanded.
Bulkhead: A wall within the hull of a boat or ship.
Cachalot: Archaic term for the Sperm whale, from the French word cachalot, meaning “tooth.”
Caldera: A bowl-like geological formation, usually formed by the partial collapse of a volcano, following an eruption.
Center Console: A single-decked, open hull boat with all the controls (console) located in the center of the vessel.
Cephalopod: Marine animals such as the octopus, squid, and cuttlefish, wherein limbs or tentacles extend from a prominent head. Cephalopods are also mollusks.
Cetacean: Marine mammals, including whales, dolphins and porpoises.
Chelonian: Turtles and tortoises.
Circle Hook: A fishing hook with a point that curves sharply inward. Circle hooks are designed to catch a fish in the corner of the jaw and are rarely swallowed.
Claxon: A low-frequency horn used by ships to signal one another.
Cleat: A nautical term for a narrow, anvil-shaped device used to secure a rope or line. Cleats are often used to tie boats to docks.
Conning Tower: An elevated platform on a ship or submarine, from which an officer can command (“con”) the vessel.
Continental Shelf: The extended (and submerged border) of any given continent and its associated coastal plain.
Crustacean: Crustaceans are members of a large group of arthropods and include such creatures as lobsters, crabs, and shrimp.
Detritus: Referred to as marine snow, detritus is non-living particles of organic material suspended in water.
KRONOS RISING: After 65 million years, the world's greatest predator is back. Page 62