Vengeance from the Deep - Book One: Pliosaur

by Russ Elliott

  She swung open the fridge. “And she agreed with me. You should have let them take a look at you when we were at the hospital. Men!” she spat. “No wonder women outlive them.”

  Ignoring Kate, John eased down onto the couch in front of a small TV. The thick cushions felt like heaven against his sore back. His thoughts were on the news. He needed to see if anything had been reported that could offer a hint at the pliosaur’s movement.

  He found the remote and clicked on the news while Kate slipped into the restroom. Channel surfing, he ran across an update on the Motanza. A photograph of a smiling young boy was on the screen. A female reporter said, “The Motanza Fishing Festival tragedy has just claimed its fifth life. One hour ago, fourteen-year-old Andrec Wells’ body was found still tangled in the deep recesses of the enormous net . . .”

  The photo hit John like a sledgehammer. He eased back into the couch, overcome with distress.

  ~~~

  After a much-needed shower, Kate dried herself in the cramped restroom. She wiped the steam from a small mirror above the sink. Unfastening her hair, she let it fall down around her bare shoulders. “Aaah,” she ran her fingers through her raven locks. “That’s more like it, still a woman under all that mess.”

  Moments later, she emerged from the restroom, feeling refreshed and all the more stunning. She wore khaki shorts and a white shirt tied off at the waist. She knew she looked like a million dollars. But John would be the last man to notice, she thought wryly.

  Entering the kitchenette, she motioned toward the restroom. “Your turn. Nothing personal, but you have spent half the night in a bait bin.” Taking two water bottles from the fridge, she turned toward John and saw him staring blankly at the TV.

  “Oh, no you don’t. Don’t start beating yourself up over all this. Remember the lieutenant. If it hadn’t been for you fishing him out of the channel and fastening your belt around his leg, he wouldn’t be alive.”

  “He’s in a coma,” John scoffed. “Even if he lives through the night, they don’t know if he’ll ever be more than a vegetable.”

  Kate sighed. “You’re a ‘glass is half empty’ kinda mate, aren’t you? At least all of this has gotten the Navy’s attention. They may not have acted like they believed you at the hospital, but they know something’s up. And you did manage an appointment with the admiral in the morning. And let’s not forget the tooth. It was enough to make the lieutenant close the shark tours, so it’ll be enough to convince the admiral. So for once, look at the bright side.”

  “Bright side!” John’s despair turned to frustration. “Five people died at the Motanza, and two more in the Dyer Channel tonight, one man not five feet from me. I can still hear his screams . . . the kind of screams you never forget . . .”

  Kate stared into John’s eyes. For the first time, she felt the full weight of what he’d been through. “You’re right,” she said softly. “I’m sorry.”

  She eased down beside him on the couch. She leaned over gently until she was nestled against his shoulder. There was a long silence as she thought of ways to lighten the mood. When she finally spoke, her tone was more playful. “So, tell me John, what led you into this glorious field?”

  “Medical school,” John blurted absentmindedly.

  “Medical school?”

  “Well, to be more exact, not going to medical school.”

  Kate arced her eyebrows. “Ah, I see how that could narrow one’s options.”

  John released a long breath. “Ever since I was a kid all I wanted to be was a doctor, maybe even a surgeon like my old man. One night during my second semester of pre-med, I was driving home for a long weekend. I was so full of myself—had just gotten engaged, all primed to be a doctor. There was nothing I couldn’t do. It was late Friday night, and I was pretty much in the middle of nowhere, exhausted. Should have waited until morning, but it was no big deal. I could make the drive in my sleep . . . or so I thought.

  “Coming into a corner, I woke up, and that’s when I saw the light. I swerved, but it was too late. To avoid hitting me head-on, the motorcycle went over the curb.

  “Pulling over, I ran through a field. No streetlights. It was so dark I didn’t see the barbed wire fence the bike went through.” He pointed to the scar on his left eyebrow. “That’s where it caught me. I kept running through the tall grass, toward a terrible, high-pitched sound. When I got there all I saw was a vintage black BSA lying on its side with the throttle stuck, engine screaming.”

  “Vintage black BSA.” Kate gasped. “The museum! This morning . . . wasn’t that the same type of bike that was parked outside? The way you stared at it . . .”

  “Pretty much,” John said, the same distant look in his eye. “Twenty yards from the bike, I found the rider. Wasn’t in too bad of shape other than the bleeding in his left thigh.

  “It was a piece of cake. All I had to do was apply pressure where the femoral artery was severed until the ambulance arrived. At first, I was like a machine, focused . . . then something happened. The revving motorcycle shut off, and I could hear what the man was screaming. He had two little girls . . . begged me not to let him die. I don’t know. It wasn’t the blood that got to me, but it was like reality suddenly hit me: I was this guy’s only hope. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking.”

  John paused, staring blankly. “No one blamed me when he didn’t make it. The doctors told me it was because the ambulance took too long to get there. Later, I was still at the hospital when I heard them break it to the family . . . the screams from his wife and children echoing through the halls . . . screams I’ll never forget.”

  Kate rested a hand on his shoulder.

  John shook his head. “Oh, there’s more.” He paused. “Later that night, at home I overheard Dad talking to Mom. He said that anyone with my training should have easily stopped the bleeding. If I hadn’t panicked, the man would have lived.

  “It seemed the local newspaper shared Pop’s point of view. The next morning the headline read: Medical Student Fails Major Test. Both of my brothers went on to be surgeons. But after that night, I could never stomach the thought of being responsible for another life.”

  He shook his head with a disturbing smile. “But my lovely fiancée, Jenny, took it all in stride. Said she was still going to marry a doctor, it just wasn’t going to be me. So, that’s when it happened. That’s when I got the revelation to be an archeologist.”

  He sank his head back into the couch. “Archeology . . . nice choice.”

  “But John, surely you don’t feel responsible for all this?” Kate was puzzled. “That night on the island, you weren’t the one who snuck into the lagoon,” Kate reminded him. “It was Brad.”

  “Oh, but I knew,” John said, “I knew. That night I couldn’t bear the thought of coming back empty-handed. Redemption for my career, my pathetic life was on the other side of that wall. I knew if I told Brad the Rhidispians were in the lagoon, nothing would stop him. I would bring back something that would shock the world.” He sighed, staring blankly. “And God knows I did.”

  “And now you feel like history’s repeating itself,” said Kate. “Like you went to that island and opened the proverbial Pandora’s Box, and you can’t close it.”

  “Thanks,” muttered John.

  Kate grew stern. “Look, your father was wrong then, and you’re wrong now.” She looked at him admiringly. His vulnerability warmed her heart. She eased her hand down on his knee and looked him dead in the eye. “Besides, in case you’ve forgotten, it was my mother who mounted the expedition,” she said, flashing a warm smile. “You can’t take all the credit.”

  ~~~

  Kate’s comment almost made John smile. Without another sound, she had scooted down and curled up beside him. John gently rested his right hand on her shoulder. With his free hand, he picked up the remote and continued to search for anything that could be linked to the pliosaur.

  ~~~

  Twenty-five miles South of Mossel Bay, Guy Peterson reeled in his li
ne, calling it a night. He glanced across the stern of his thirty-two-foot fishing boat, wondering if he should go ashore or remain on the water until morning. Getting up from the chair, his fifty-eight-year-old back convinced him to drop anchor and stay out for the night. As he walked away from the stern, he saw something on the shimmering waters. An obscure black shape appeared out of the darkness.

  Keeping one eye on the object, Guy walked to the helm, his curiosity piqued. Slowly he turned the boat around and decided to go investigate, see if he could figure out what he was looking at. As he drew closer, the outline became more visible—an old gray boat. He shined his flashlight across the weathered hull and shook his head. “Looks like an old naval patrol boat. Wonder how long it’s been out here?”

  He aimed the light over the gunwale. The beam revealed several gas cans lined up beside a deflated life raft. Smoke still rose from the burned-out engine. He again examined the boat from bow to stern and saw no one. “Looks like it’s been abandoned . . . can’t say I blame ’em.”

  After a glance around the surface, he reached across to pull the boat closer. “Well, even though it don’t look like much, I should probably tow it—”

  His jaw dropped when the life raft shot up. A flicker of light. Then the whistling sound of a machete blade.

  ~~~

  Kota released the handle, letting the man fall back onto the deck with a thud. The shimmering machete blade protruded from his skull. Stepping across to the fishing boat, Kota stood over the body. He placed his foot on the man’s throat and twisted the handle until he felt the blade release. A crimson streak crossed the shadowy deck.

  Carefully, the two powerful figures slipped the body overboard with barely a splash. Kota leaned over the side, swished his machete beneath the water’s surface, and withdrew a glistening clean blade. He looked back at Kolegwa and motioned him to get the gas cans loaded onto their new boat.

  Kota walked to the helm and fired the engine. He and Kolegwa pushed off from the old patrol boat’s hull. As they pulled away, the abandoned vessel slowly faded into the darkness.

  Chapter 26

  BIRD DOGS OF THE SEA

  John sat on the corner of the couch, bleary-eyed but determined as he continued to flip through the channels. Kate was curled up beside him, fast asleep. He did his best to eat a braai, a South African delicacy similar to a barbecue sandwich which he’d found in the fridge. He had no appetite, but knew he needed his strength. He stopped on a station and leaned forward. The TV screen showed what appeared to be the tip of a whale’s head gliding through the dark ocean waters.

  A female voice spoke over the image on the screen. “There you have it, ladies and gentlemen: Captain Joseph Neman’s Whale Cam! It’s a camera attached to the back of a sperm whale, a clever way to hopefully capture the elusive giant squid on film.”

  This got John’s full attention.

  The image on screen switched to a female reporter standing on the deck of a research ship at night. She raised her hand to keep her long, brown hair from blowing in her face. Beside her was a distinguished man in his sixties with salt-and-pepper hair and a white moustache and goatee.

  The reporter raised her microphone. “Beside me is one of the world’s leading authorities on the giant squid, Dr. Joseph Neman, or as he is often referred to, Captain Nemo. I hope you don’t mind me calling you that.” She flashed a smile, teeth gleaming for the camera.

  The captain ran his fingers down his signature purple squid tie and smiled. “No, don’t mind at all; in fact, I’ve grown rather fond of it.”

  “Tell us a little more about your expedition.” The reporter moved her microphone closer to the captain.

  “Well, let me start by saying I think it’s absurd that scientists know more about long-dead dinosaurs than the living giant squid that swim in the oceans of today. We know something about the habitats of dinosaurs and their biology, distribution, and even their reproduction, but we know none of these things about the giant squid.

  “Other than a maimed, three-meter specimen off Chichi Island, scientists have had little luck filming this creature in its natural habitat. But we’re searching for something more. Our quest is to discover a true living giant in excess of sixty feet. Now, for the first time in history, we think we have a good chance of filming this creature alive from the back of one of its known predators.”

  A gleam appeared in his eyes. “Try to imagine a creature with a very large, complex brain, tentacles the size of fire hoses, and eyes the size of hubcaps. Not to mention a beak-like mouth capable of cutting through steel cable.

  “The giant squid is also a fierce warrior. This we have learned from the scars we’ve found on sperm whales over the years. So what we’re looking for is nothing less than a true living sea monster!”

  “Sea monster, huh?” John almost choked on his sandwich.

  “How big do these creatures actually get?” asked the reporter.

  “The largest giant squid ever measured was eighteen meters—that’s fifty-nine and a half feet—and weighed one metric ton. However, the average size for these squid is somewhere between nineteen and forty-three feet, with the average weight being around one hundred ten to six hundred sixty pounds.

  “Do marine biologists think they can grow much larger than the sixty-footer?”

  “Oh yes,” replied Nemo excitedly, now with big eyes and a smile on his weathered face. “That’s what brings me to your area. Let me explain the course that we plan to take on our three-month journey. We began our expedition in New Zealand where most of the larger carcasses have been discovered. We’ll continue around the southern tip of Argentina and search through the Atlantic until we reach the tip of South Africa, off the Cape area, where we should be by morning. Then we’ll spend the remainder of our trip exploring the depths from the western to the eastern Indian Ocean.”

  The reporter asked, “So what exactly is the significance of the Western Cape that brings you all the way to the southern tip of Africa?”

  Chewing his sandwich, John turned the volume up with the remote.

  The captain leaned back against the ship’s rail. “Well, that’s where some of history’s most interesting eyewitness accounts have occurred. One reliable source from the military reported a sighting of a squid the length of their ship, which was one hundred seventy-five feet long, making this giant squid nearly three times the size of the largest ever measured! The Indian Ocean has always been known for producing extraordinary specimens, and we’re hoping this time it will live up to its reputation.”

  “When so many others have failed, Captain, what makes you so confident that you’ll be able to film this elusive creature in its lair? What makes this expedition so different?” The reporter’s face showed genuine interest, her eyes serious.

  Neman nodded. “For starters, we will be using a submersible that runs much quieter and gives off less vibration than any of those used in the past. This should allow us to remain undetected by the creature’s extrasensory organs. Also, we’ll be using different lighting strategies than on previous expeditions. But if all of this doesn’t catch the camera-shy squid, we’re hoping that the Whale Cam will. As you saw on the earlier footage, it’s exactly what it sounds like. We’ve attached a camera and a sonar device with suction cups to the back of a sperm whale.”

  “And why the sperm whale?” asked the reporter.

  “Good question.” Nemo raised a finger. “Analysis of sperm whale vomit shows that they are major consumers of giant squid. Obviously, whales know where to find their meals. So, we’ll just follow them. Let the whales hunt them down for us, kind of like thirty-ton beagle hounds—bird dogs of the sea. As we speak, three whales mounted with cameras are swimming in the western Indian Ocean. Two of them are in a pod we’ve been following for weeks.

  “Another thing unique to our expedition is that we’re connected via satellite to classrooms around the world. This will enable students to watch live broadcasts from the back of our sperm whales as they sear
ch through the depths of the ocean. If we come up with even a glimpse of the giant squid embattled with one of our camera-equipped whales, it’ll be one of the greatest accomplishments in the history of marine biology. And all of you will be able to see it within seconds!”

  The reporter laughed congenially at his enthusiasm. “Well, that does sound exciting, to be able to view such an event live. How’s the expedition going so far?”

  The captain paused, as if thrown off by the question. “We’ve been having a little trouble with the transmitters on some of our underwater cameras for the last few weeks but hope to have it sorted out in the next day or so.”

  “We’ll all be watching with great anticipation. Good luck, and thanks for having us on board.”

  John shook his head and took the last bite of his sandwich, “Now I’ve seen it all, a doctor calling himself Captain Nemo, chasing around the giant squid. And he thinks he’s chasing a sea monster.” He flipped off the TV, and the room went dark. He eased back in the couch and made another attempt at sleep.

  ~~~

  From the main deck of the Nauticus II, Nemo watched the female reporter ascend the stairs leading to the ship’s small helipad. His assistant, Nathan, a lanky man in his forties sporting a brown ponytail, walked up beside him. He looked perplexed. “Why did you tell her we’ve been having trouble with the transmitters? They’ve been working just fine.”

  Nemo looked him dead in the eye. “Well, it sounded better than ‘we’ve spent nearly two months and three million dollars and haven’t seen a tentacle longer than my arm.’”

  “We do have that exceptional underwater volcano footage from last week,” Nathan reminded him.

  “Underwater volcano footage. Three million dollars . . . and all we have is some lava crawling across the ocean floor. That’s pathetic. The world’s expecting us to deliver a giant squid, and nothing less will do!”

  “Well, maybe our luck will change when we reach the Indian Ocean.”