by Russ Elliott
Chapter 34
BAIT
Inside the surveillance cabin of the Nauticus II, Nathan carefully studied the small monitor with the gridded screen. Nemo entered the room, Freddie at his heels like a shadow. Glancing over Nathan’s shoulder, Nemo said, “Before the signal comes back on, we need a way to lure the beast back. Otherwise, the signal is useless.”
“But what do you plan to use for bait?” asked Freddie from the doorway.
The Captain turned to Freddie. “Go check the galley. See if there’s any meat, fish, anything. Maybe roast beef, uncooked. We need blood, something to get its attention!”
With a nod, Freddie ran out the door. Nathan swiveled around in his chair. “I’ve got it! We could use the crane that launches the submersible. We could attach a bag of meat or whatever to the hook that normally connects to the submersible, then extend the boom over the side of the ship and lower the cable like a giant fishing pole. That way we can hold the bag about six feet above the water and get a shot of the pliosaur when it breaks the surface to get the bait. We could also attach something to the line above the bait bag. You know, to give it scale for the camera, like one of those empty six-foot crates we have on deck.”
The Captain slapped Nathan’s shoulder. “That’s the smartest thing I’ve heard out of you in weeks. Yes. Yes, I like that, a shot of the creature with its head breaching the water. And I like the idea of using something for scale. That will certainly help the credibility of the photo.” Nemo paused and stared into the doorway. “Now, if we could just find something to use for bait . . . with lots of blood. At that moment, Erick poked his head into the room followed by Rex. The boy’s eyes shot open. Making eye contact with the Captain, Erick started back-stepping.
Nemo looked at the Weimaraner beside the boy, “What’s your dog’s name, son?”
“I’m sorry, sir!” Erick backed further. “I’ll take him below.”
Nemo kneeled down, his tone softer. “Oh no, son. It’s okay. Bring him over here, and let’s have a look at him.”
With a puzzled expression, Erick said, “It’s okay, boy. Go see the captain.” He guided the dog closer.
Nemo reached out and rubbed the dog’s silky coat. “My, what a beautiful dog you are. Oh, and a healthy dog, great muscle tone.” Then a strange look came over his face, and he stared Erick straight in the eye. “How much does this dog weigh, boy?”
Sensing something off about the conversation, Erick slowly began to pull Rex back, “About seventy-five pounds.”
Nemo lunged and caught the dog’s collar.
Nathan stood, waving his arms. “No, no . . . you can’t do that! Not the boy’s dog!”
Erick pulled back on the collar with all his strength, looking up at Nathan. “Can’t do what?”
Nemo tightened his grip—not allowing Rex to budge. The startled dog whimpered in confusion as Erick’s small fingers started to give way.
Nemo pulled the dog closer. “You’ll understand when you’re older, son. It’s in the name of science!”
Just as the captain gained complete control of the dog, Freddie entered the cabin holding his hands out. “The chef has eighty-five pounds of uncooked roast beef and about fifty pounds of salmon, but he won’t let me touch it.”
The captain stood up enraged, releasing his grip on the dog. “You tell that cook that if he doesn’t give you all that meat right now, I’m going to use him for chum! And make sure you get every drop of blood!”
Nathan glanced at the doorway, making sure that Erick and Rex were long gone. “Were you really considering killing the boy’s dog?”
Nemo looked back at him, his eyes wild. “See if you can find a clamp and some wire. That was a good idea, attaching something to the line for scale.” He noticed Nathan still staring at him and muttered, “Naaah. I was just playing with the lad.”
Nathan slowly looked away and returned his attention to the gridded monitor. The little red light suddenly came back on. They were tracking the monster.
~~~
Staring through Kate’s windshield, John watched a squadron of eight Agusta 109 LUH helicopters gather over Pearly Beach. One by one, the light-gray craft fell into formation before the midday sun. A beautiful sight, John thought. Finally, he had the air power he needed. Still, the victims weighed heavily on his mind.
His eyes drifted to the flute case containing the tooth. So far no one had linked the deaths to him. But that would soon change, John thought. He recalled that fateful night twenty years ago, after the motorcycle accident. At first, no one blamed him. Then the media uncovered the evidence and showed everyone the truth. Overnight, his idyllic life as a medical student turned into a living hell. He raised his gaze back to the naval squadron. Yes, history was about to repeat itself. It was only a matter of time until all fingers pointed to him, as they very well should. No, I can’t go back and change the past, John thought. But I’m gonna stop this abomination.
His earphones crackled. “Paxton, do you read?” said the gravelly voice.
“Go ahead, Admiral.”
~~~
Inside the lead helicopter, Admiral Henderson stared intently at the water, determination in his eyes. He spoke into his headset, “Look, John, the Navy’s perfectly capable of taking it from here. But if you feel you must help, you can tag along as a spotter. We’ll first scour the Dyer Channel, for obvious reasons. Then the squadron will split—one group of four heading east, the other west. You can follow the west group.
“The lead chopper in each group is loaded with the depth charges. The other three and you will serve as spotters. Remember, fan out, but keep the search close to shore. The plan is to corner it before nightfall. Out!”
~~~
Falling into formation with the naval squadron, Kate adjusted her headset. “Well, you heard the plan. After we split at Dyer Channel, we follow the west group.”
John raised a pair of binoculars. “I still don’t like the sound of this. Following every attack and whale carcass, the pliosaur is clearly heading west. And still, the admiral’s splitting up the squadron; having half of it head east. He should be focusing all of his efforts west of Dyer Channel.”
“Guess he’s playing it safe,” Kate said, shrugging, “in case it changes directions.” She eyed the lead chopper. “I still can’t believe we had to pay off that guard to get depth charges. After saving Lieutenant Greeman’s butt last night, you’d think they’d give us a crate.”
John grinned as he peered through the binoculars. “Guess the military’s kind of funny that way, about issuing explosive devices to civilians.” He lowered the binoculars and gazed across the naval squadron. “I just hope the admiral knows what he’s doing.”
Chapter 35
THE SCENT
“All right!” Let’s get that concoction in the water while the beast is still in the area!” shouted Nemo. He stood beside the control box of the enormous crane. Near the portside rail, Nathan struggled to tighten the clamp attaching a four-by-six-foot crate to the thick cable of the crane.
“Make sure you have the crate far enough from the bait bag so it won’t get in the way,” yelled Nemo.
Nathan stood up, screwdriver in hand. “Yeah, it’s about seven feet above the bait bag. That ought to give the creature plenty of room to reach the bait without hitting the crate.”
With a nod, Nemo pressed a button on the control panel. The crane’s long metal boom rose higher from the deck to the whining sound of hydraulics. The cable grew taut. The wooden crate slowly lifted from the deck and swiveled through the air. Then the bloody bait bag rose from a large bucket, a red stream flowing from the bottom of the burlap sack.
Nemo brought the crane to a stop. The thick metal arm swayed slightly as it hung in the open air near the side rail. He called to Nathan, “Go to the surveillance room and see if it’s still in the area. I don’t want to put the bag overboard until we know the beast is close!”
After Nathan went below deck, Nemo turned his attention to the
ship’s chef, who was chopping salmon into small pieces and dropping them into a plastic trash can. “This is not the way I usually prepare my salmon,” muttered the small man in a French accent. He looked up at the bloody burlap sack, shaking his head. “And all of that beautiful beef . . . fish food! I hope you gentlemen don’t mind eating bologna sandwiches for the rest of the expedition.”
With rapid metal footsteps, Nathan emerged from the stairwell, his thumbs up. “Captain, we’re in luck. The pliosaur is within a half mile of the ship!”
“Okay, here we go!” yelled Nemo, and he pressed another button. With a whining hydraulic sound, the crane’s arm swiveled sideways, pulling the sack over the ship’s port side rail, a red stream trailing across the deck.
From the shadows of the stairwell, Erick looked up at the bloodstained sack dangling beneath the cable. He looked at Nathan. “Was he gonna do that to Rex?”
“No, he was just kidding,” replied Nathan. “He has a very strange sense of humor. Just the same, you might want to keep Rex below for the rest of the expedition.” Erick followed Nathan to the port rail where they watched the bloody sack lower toward the sea. Freddie anxiously waited with his camera. Nathan looked back toward midship and shouted to Nemo. “That’s good. The bag’s about eight feet above the surface!”
“Why are you putting it so high above the water?” asked Erick.
“We want to make sure the sharks can’t get to it. We’re also hoping to get a shot of the creature with its head above the surface. That’s why we have that crate attached to the cable, to give it scale, you know, for a size comparison. Come on, let’s go see where the creature is on the monitor!”
After Nathan and Erick disappeared into the stairwell, Nemo walked away from the crane. He joined Freddie at the port rail. “You ready this time?”
He repeated his mantra: “They don’t call me ‘Ready Freddie’ for nothing.” He grinned. “Hey, I’ve had two National Geographic covers, and after today it’ll be three!”
“Well, just make sure you have the lens cap off!” muttered Nemo on his way to the stairwell.
Entering the surveillance cabin, Nemo saw Nathan and Erick hovering over the monitor, tracking the homing device. Nathan looked up. “Looks like the chum trail is working! The pliosaur is within two hundred yards of the ship, port side!”
Nemo smiled then glanced at Erick. “Where’s your dog?”
“I . . . I think he ran away,” the boy replied nervously.
“Must be a pretty good swimmer,” muttered Nemo. He looked back at the red dot on the monitor. “Which way did you say the creature was coming?”
“Port side.” Nemo looked at Erick. “Run up on deck and tell Freddie the beast is about two hundred yards off port side—get a move on!”
Nathan continued to update. “Still coming . . . less than a hundred and fifty yards away!”
The captain picked up a headset. Adjusting the microphone in front of his mouth, he headed for the doorway. “I’m going to check that bait bag. Put on your headset, and let me know every time that thing moves!” Exiting the cabin, Nemo listened to Nathan’s voice on the head set. “Testing . . . one . . . two . . . three . . .”
“Read you. Is it still within a hundred fifty yards?” asked Nemo, walking along the hallway.
“About one twenty-five and still closing.”
Nemo reached the top of the stairwell and saw Freddie leaning over the side rail. The photographer glanced back in his direction then discretely reached down to check his lens cap.
“Any visual yet?” asked Nemo.
Freddie shook his head. “Not yet. You sure it’s coming port side?”
“Still coming off port?” asked Nemo into the small microphone. Nathan’s voice crackled in his ears. “Should be coming straight at you!”
Nemo jogged back to the control box of the crane and called back to Freddie, “Must be coming in deep. Keep ‘em peeled. That’s the only meat we have.” Then Nemo pressed the green button on the box letting the cable out until the bloodstained sack dropped halfway into the water. Pressing another button, the crane’s arm moved from side to side drawing the sack back and forth through the sea. A brown haze flowed through the burlap and trailed on the surface. He then raised the bait bag several feet above the water and paused it, the rectangular crate slowly twirling above. “Where’s it now, Nathan?”
“It’s slowed, sir. Seems to be hanging around . . . about a hundred, a hundred twenty-five yards off port.”
“I’ve got something!” shouted Freddie. He squinted. “Wait, just a couple sharks.”
Nemo ran to the side rail and looked over. He saw two great whites, maybe fourteen feet long, circling beneath the bag. One shark lunged from the surface, tearing a hole in the bottom of the sack leaving a string of beef hanging down through the tear.
“Oh no you don’t!” Nemo raced back to the control box and quickly raised the sack another five feet.
“That’s high enough . . . they can’t reach it now!” shouted Freddie.
Nemo walked back over and joined Freddie at the side rail. They watched as the two great whites began to swim in larger circles now that the bag was out of reach. One fin disappeared. Suddenly a gray head rose, bursting through the surface. The open mouth aimed at the bag with determination . . . until the great white lost its momentum, missing the sack and crashing into the sea with a tremendous splash.
“This is better than Sea World,” said Freddie, snapping off a few shots with his camera.
Nemo growled into the microphone, “What’s the location?”
“Sir, it’s back to about a hundred seventy-five yards . . . no, wait . . . two hundred yards. Actually, it looks like it’s heading in the opposite direction.”
Nemo threw his hands up in frustration. He motioned to the chef to stop chumming. Then Nathan’s voice returned over the headset. “That’s it, sir. Now I’ve lost it on the monitor. The signal’s gone.”
Nemo lowered his head and said to Freddie, “Looks like it’s going in the opposite direction.” The captain stood motionless, gripping the side rail while gazing into the distance. Freddie lowered his camera and rubbed his eyes.
Erick ran up to them. “What happened?”
With an intimidating scowl, Nemo muttered, “It’s gone. Looks like we didn’t have enough blood in the water!”
Erick quickly turned and walked away.
Freddie shook his head. “That’s strange, the scent was strong enough to attract that pair of great whites.” He looked over the side rail and noticed they were gone.
The chef put the plastic top on the chum barrel and made his way toward the stairwell. “I guess I’ll go make you gentlemen some sandwiches. How does bologna sound, or would you prefer peanut butter and jelly?”
Ignoring the chef’s sarcasm, Nemo walked to the opposite side of the ship. He gazed across the waters off starboard. While scanning the white caps, he murmured into his headset, “Any sign of it?”
His earphones crackled. “No, nothing. How ’bout up there?”
“Same, I’m afraid! All we got were a couple of great whites, and they left as soon as we stopped chumming and raised the bait bag.”
Freddie walked over to join Nemo at the starboard rail. “Is he still getting a signal?”
“No, it’s gone,” said Nemo. “Probably got close enough to realize we were the ones that didn’t taste too good earlier.”
Freddie looked back to port side and pointed at the crane. “Well, you might want to bring in the bait bag. It’s looking a little ragged on bottom, some of the beef’s starting to drop out.”
After reaching the crane control box, Nemo slowly raised the bait bag all the way up until the wooden crate touched the arm of the crane. Pressing another button, the massive arm slowly swung sideways, bringing the bloodstained sack even with the ship’s portside rail. There he paused it. The bait bag swayed thirty feet above the water’s surface. “That’s close enough for now. I know the second I bring it on dec
k, Nathan will pick up a signal!”
At that moment, he heard crates crashing on the opposite side of the ship. Nemo spun around and saw Freddie kick another crate out of his way while running toward starboard pointing his camera.
“Have you got it?” shouted Nemo.
After snapping a few more shots, Freddie stopped and lowered his camera. “Awww, it’s only a dolphin!”
Nathan appeared on deck just then and joined Nemo while Freddie jogged back over to port. “Shouldn’t you be watching the monitor?” Nemo said.
“Don’t worry, Erick’s watching it. I left him my headset. He’s asked me so many questions, he’s as familiar with the equipment as I am.”
Nemo leaned against the rail and looked out at the water. “We needed a stronger scent. We almost had it. It was so close—within a couple hundred yards!”
Nathan joined the captain’s gaze, staring out at the sea. A few moments later, Nathan spoke up. “I’ve got it! Maybe we could use the chum we have left for bait and try to catch a couple shark—”
Wham! The entire ship violently dipped to starboard.
Nemo looked up as the water’s surface raced up to meet his face. He dropped down, hugging the side rail with both arms, water spewing around him. Beside him, unbound crates slid from the deck, crashing into the sea. The ship’s momentum shifted in the opposite direction. The starboard side rose high. Clouds appeared in front of Nemo as the ship recoiled, dropping deep port side.
Again, the ship rebounded. The rail dropped forward, hurling toward the sea. Nemo held his breath. The wall of whitewater crashed through the rail and washed him back toward midship. He came to a stop lying on his back, coughing, just in front of the stairwell. The deck vibrated with a loud thud as the submersible toppled on its side, cracking the glass bubble on its nose.
In desperation, Nemo rolled into the stairwell. He grabbed the rail for stability as a loose crate rolled by, narrowly missing him. Before he could get a second hand on the rail, more water gushed into the stairwell and swept him down the stairs. Again, the ship counter-balanced, dropping toward the starboard, throwing him against the opposite wall of the stairwell.