Mega #02 Baja Blood

by Jake Bible

  “Stop,” Ingrid said, shoving Carlos out of the way. “Don’t yell at Moshi.”

  The opposite of Carlos in many ways, Ingrid was tall, skinny, and had long, bright green pigtails that were braided up around the back of her head. She wore a bright yellow jumpsuit that fit her perfectly. Her white blue eyes glared at Carlos then looked down into the cockpit.

  Below was the ever silent Moshi. Black hair in a bowl cut; short, but not squat like Carlos, with dexterous fingers that flew across the controls of the sub. Moshi shrugged off the annoyances above and focused solely on the task before her.

  “I wasn’t yelling,” Carlos said. “I was telling her not to turn a dial that obviously has to do with the bilge system of the submarine. If she turns the dial while the sub is dry docked then that could harm the pumps! And since we know nothing about the construction of this vessel we could end up rendering it non-operational!”

  “Now you’re yelling atme,” Ingrid said. “Stop that.”

  “I am not yelling at anyone!” Carlos yelled.

  “Problem?” Ballantine asked from the catwalk above. “Trouble with my elves?”

  “WE ARE NOT ELVES!” Carlos roared. “You refer to me as an elf again, or as the armory as the ‘Toyshop’, and I will quit immediately!”

  “We both know you can’t do that, Carlos,” Ballantine said. “So stop threatening it.”

  “Whatever,” Carlos fumed.

  “Any progress?” Ballantine asked.

  “Some,” Ingrid replied. “Moshi seems to be figuring it all out. It would be easier if we could all get down there, but Moshi is the only one small enough to fit and still move.”

  “Have you cracked the navigation system yet?” Ballantine asked.

  “Have we?” Ingrid asked, looking down at Moshi. The timid woman shook her head. “No. Not yet.”

  “Let me know when you have,” Ballantine said. “We need to be able to backtrack the sub’s passage and find out where it originated from.”

  Ingrid gave him a thumbs up.

  “Are we in Mexican waters yet?” Carlos asked.

  “We are,” Ballantine responded. “We’ll be to the site in less than an hour. Is the equipment ready?”

  “Yes, the equipment is ready,” Carlos snapped. “Had it ready the moment you told me what we were doing and where we were going.”

  “Excellent,” Ballantine nodded. “I’ll expect you to show the operators what they will be using when the time comes.”

  “Ugh,” Carlos said. “Can’t Ingrid do it?”

  “I’d love to,” Ingrid said enthusiastically.

  “No, I’d prefer you did, Carlos. You are such a better people person,” Ballantine said. He looked down and noticed the cargo hold was open and the cocaine was removed. “Uh, might I ask where the hell the drugs have gone?”

  “Gunnar,” Carlos said. “He wanted to run tests. I told him to knock himself out.”

  “He took it all?” Ballantine asked. “Why would he take it all?”

  “Sampling,” Ingrid said. “He wanted to test each and every kilo for consistency.”

  “Oh,” Ballantine nodded, not looking happy. “Well, I better see what he has found.”

  ***

  “You’re pissed,” Mike stated as he sat in the wheelchair, out of the way of Gunnar.

  “Maybe,” Gunnar said as he grabbed another kilo from the pallet resting in the corner of his lab. “I don’t have time to really think about it. I have work to do.”

  “It’s not like we were serious, right?” Mike asked. “We had a good thing, but it was casual.”

  Gunnar snorted.

  “What? It was,” Mike insisted. “You had your whale thing with Chambers and I had the SEALs. Neither of us could commit.”

  “If that’s what you want to tell yourself,” Gunnar said as he dropped a spoonful of cocaine into a test tube. He capped it, shook it, then set it into a centrifuge. “Whatever gets you through life.”

  “Oh, good one,” Mike said. “Throw my words back at me.”

  Gunnar turned on him. “Listen, thisus shit will have to wait, okay? You can sit there and be quiet or you can get the fuck out of my lab. But we aren’t doing this right now.”

  “Just once I’d like to walk into a room on this ship, or on deck, or into a bay, and not have to listen to drama,” Ballantine sighed. “Is that so much to ask from a group of people that are supposed to be professionals? Do you hear me airing my dirty laundry every five minutes? No, you do not.”

  Ballantine looked over at the pallet of coke.

  “I would also like to be advised when a ton of drugs is moved about on my ship.”

  “It’s Darren’s ship,” Gunnar said. “He’s captain.”

  Ballantine sighed again and walked over to counter where Gunnar was working. “Debatable, as always. What do you have for me?”

  “Nothing yet,” Gunnar said. “Every sample I test shows up the same. This is pure cocaine. Uncut, unadulterated. You have any idea what this is worth?”

  “Probably more than you do,” Ballantine said. “But my knowledge of its market value is not what I’m interested in. Can this cocaine cause the sharks to act the way they are? That’s what Iam interested in.”

  “Sure,” Gunnar said. “Why not? People lose their shit on this stuff all the time.”

  “But we aren’t dealing with people,” Ballantine said. “We’re dealing with genetically altered sea life.” He looked over at Mike. “I suggest you keep that information to yourself.”

  “Not a problem,” Mike said. “I’m used to keeping secrets.”

  “Even taking into account the sharks’ altered genetics,” Gunnar said. “My opinion is still that this cocaine is causing the erratic behavior of the sharks. We need to hunt the creatures down as fast as possible. Considering how deadly they are when not high, these monsters could end up eating everything in the ocean.”

  “No need to hunt them down,” Ballantine said. “Apparently they are staying right where they are.”

  Gunnar stopped what he was doing and looked at Ballantine. “How? Sharks this size would have scared off all food sources in minutes. They could be anywhere now.”

  “They’re being baited,” Ballantine said. “With cows.”

  “Cows?” Gunnar asked. “They’re just dumping cows into the ocean?”

  “That is what I have been told,” Ballantine shrugged.

  “Okay,” Gunnar said, turning and leaning against the counter. “This is good. Keeping them fed could slow them down while they digest. It may also counteract some of the stimulant effects of the cocaine. Tell the Mexican navy to keep it up. How often are they feeding them?”

  “Every thirty minutes,” Ballantine replied.

  “Thirty? No, no, that won’t do,” Gunnar said. “They have to constantly chum the water. Keep the sharks engaged. Thirty minutes gives them way too much time to swim off to other feeding grounds.” Gunnar paused, lost in thought for a second.

  “Gunnar?” Ballantine asked. “What are you thinking?”

  “That even feeding them cows shouldn’t hold them in that area,” Gunnar said. “There has to be another reason.”

  “Well, you’re the expert, you would know,” Ballantine said and waved at the cocaine samples. “Save this work for later.”

  “I’ll keep working until you need me,” Gunnar said. “How’s that?”

  “That is fine,” Ballantine said. He nodded to Gunnar then Mike. “Gentlemen.”

  Mike waited for him to be gone before speaking. “That guy is kinda messed up, isn’t he?”

  “Yep,” Gunnar said. “But it’s a messed up job.”

  “What if you’re wrong?” Mike asked. “About the sharks? These sharks are different.”

  “True,” Gunnar replied. “They areway different. But for right now I have to go with what I know.”

  ***

  “Hey, bro, take a look at this,” Max said, his eye to his scope as he watched Espanoza’s ship turn about
and lead them further into Mexican waters.

  “What am I looking at?” Shane asked, looking through his own scope. “Spot me.”

  “Just outside the bridge,” Max said. “See the guy standing there?”

  “I see a few guys standing there,” Shane said. “All wearing the same uniform. You’re gonna have to be more specific.”

  “The tall one, thin as a rail,” Max said. He pulled back from his rifle and looked at his brother. “Nasty scar across his throat.”

  “Scar across…?” Shane echoed then gasped when he saw him. “Fuck no! No, no, no! Not good!”

  He pulled back from his rifle and the brothers stared at each other for a second. Then both scrambled down from the crow’s nest, leaving Lucy behind.

  “What the fuck, guys?” Lucy asked. “Where are you going?”

  “To talk to Ditcher!” Shane yelled back. “We have a problem!”

  ***

  Darren stared at the Reynolds, looked over at Lake, then back at the brothers.

  “Are you 100% sure?” Darren asked. “You guys are pretty high.”

  “Fuck that,” Shane said. “You know us, man. This isn’t high. This is focused.”

  “It’s him, dude,” Max said.

  “Can’t be,” Darren said as he started to pace the bridge. “It isn’t possible.”

  “Afraid so, man,” Shane said. “It was him. No doubt about it.”

  “We wouldn’t just throw this on you if we weren’t for sure on this shit,” Max added. “This is going to be a problem.”

  “Someone want to clue me in?” Lake asked. “Or am I just the guy that drives the boat?”

  “There’s a man on that ship that should be dead,” Darren said. “Because I killed him. I slit his throat from ear to ear and tossed him off a cliff.”

  “Maybe he has a brother,” Lake said. “You know, one that looks just like him even though they aren’t twins?”

  “Ha ha,” Max said, turning back to Darren. “It’s him, dude.”

  “We saw all the wanted posters too,” Shane said. “Hell, our Team was sent to track him once in Columbia, but came up empty. We know that face.”

  “Who is this guy?” Lake asked.

  “One of the most ruthless killers in Mexico,” Darren said. “And a top lieutenant in the Colende cartel. Or was. Maybe still is. If it’s him.” Darren narrowed his eyes. “I have to speak with Ballantine. Where the fuck is he?”

  ***

  “I’m sorry to do this to you,” Ballantine said as he looked into the Wiglaf II at Darby.

  The mini-sub was locked into its short bay at the stern of the B3.

  “If she is still alive then it has to be done,” Darby replied as she went over her instrument check for a third time. “It’s my responsibility, anyway. I lost track of her. We got lucky she surfaced.”

  “It happens,” Ballantine said. “We’re all human.”

  “I’m not paid to be human,” Darby said. “I save that for my vacations.”

  “You never take a vacation,” Ballantine smiled.

  “Maybe I will after this,” Darby said. “If I live.”

  Ballantine frowned. “Don’t say that. You know if there was any other way, I’d take it.”

  “There isn’t,” Darby responded, finally looking up at Ballantine. “We both know this is likely the only opportunity we’re going to get.”

  “I know, I know,” Ballantine nodded. “You understand exactly what needs to be done?”

  “I do,” Darby replied. “I just wish we weren’t so hurried. We were supposed to be contacted in a few months, not now.”

  “Again, I know,” Ballantine said. “That’s why I’m sending you. Once we get in the thick of things, you launch. Hopefully there will be enough chaos that no one will notice.”

  “Hopefully,” Darby said. “And hopefully you keep those sharks occupied so I can slip past.”

  “Hopefully,” Ballantine nodded. “You need anything?”

  “That vacation,” Darby smirked.

  “Trying out an uncomfortable sense of humor,” Ballantine smiled. “You’re growing, Darby. I approve.”

  “Close the hatch,” she said. “I’m going to take a nap until we get there. Anyone looking for me?”

  “Captain Chambers keeps asking,” Ballantine said.

  “No one else?”

  Ballantine cocked his head. “Who else would there be? Thorne?”

  “Never mind,” Darby said. “Shut your hatch.”

  “You mean shutthe hatch.”

  “I know what I said.”

  ***

  “There you are!” Darren yelled as he stomped down the passageway towards Ballantine. “Where the hell have you been?”

  “Around,” Ballantine replied.

  “Around?” Darren laughed. “Why am I not surprised I’m getting an evasive answer?”

  “What’s on your mind? Darren?” Ballantine asked. “Must be fairly important to keep you from the bridge.”

  “What’s really going on, Ballantine?” Darren asked. “Who the hell is this Commander Ricardo Espanoza?”

  “You said it yourself, Captain,” Ballantine responded. “He’s part of Mexican Special Forces.”

  “Bullshit,” Darren snapped. “If that were all then why is he with Diego Fernandez?”

  “Who is Diego Fernandez?”

  “El Serpiente,” Darren replied. “But I know you fucking know that.”

  “The Serpent is dead, Darren,” Ballantine answered. “You killed him with your own blade.”

  “The boys saw him,” Darren said. “On Espanoza’s ship.”

  “They were high, I’m sure,” Ballantine said.

  “Yeah, I tried that excuse too. We know they can smoke half of Jamaica and still not lose their edge. If anything they gain an even better edge.”

  Ballantine struggled with several excuses, but finally just let out a huge puff of air.

  “Espanoza is the head of the Colende cartel,” Ballantine said. “He built it up from scratch, absorbed other outfits, and has worked his way deep into the Mexican government. He’s not untouchable, but it would take some hard evidence to root him out.”

  “Fuck,” Darren said. “He’s done a good job keeping his real life hidden. Has Fernandez always worked for him?”

  “They’re half brothers,” Ballantine replied.

  “Makes sense with the way the cartels run. Trust family first,” Darren nodded. “Then what do we do? How can we work with these assholes?”

  “We don’t,” Ballantine replied. “We work around them. Let them think they have us snowed. Let them think we are here to chase our sharks. Once we handle that then we take them down.”

  “How?”

  “I’m working on that,” Ballantine said. “Let me put a few more pieces into place first, alright? Then I’ll let you and Thorne in on everything and Team Grendel can do what they do best.”

  Darren studied Ballantine for a minute then nodded. “Okay, but the second it goes south we turn guns on the Mexicans.”

  “That would be a big mistake,” Ballantine said. “We may be private, but they are not. We attack those ships in any way and we could start an international incident even the company can’t get us out of.”

  Darren growled and glared.

  “I know, it’s frustrating,” Ballantine said, taking Darren by the shoulder and walking him in the direction of the bridge. “Imagine how I feel? I actuallyknow what’s going on.”

  Chapter Five- Uno

  “So, since we do expect you muscle heads to end up in the water with the sharks,” Carlos said, standing in front of the armory cage, which everyone except Carlos called the Toyshop, as he showed Team Grendel a mesh wetsuit. “This will keep you from being chomped in half.”

  “Chainmail,” Max said. “Whoopty shit, dude. So the shark can’t cut through me. Have you seen these fuckers? One bite and my insides will be mush.”

  “Squish goes Max,” Shane nodded.

  “Ing
rid,” Carlos barked. “A demonstration.”

  Ingrid walked from out of the Toyshop with an oversized bear trap. She set it on the ground, and with Carlos’s help, was able to pry it open and set the spring.

  “The zucchini!” Carlos shouted.

  “I’m standing right here,” Ingrid sighed. “You don’t have to yell.”

  She went back into the Toyshop and came out with a large zucchini.

  “The pole!” Carlos yelled.

  “Dude!” Shane snapped. “Stop yelling!”

  “You’re the one yelling,” Carlos sneered.

  “Carlos,” Ballantine said coolly.

  Ingrid handed Carlos a large metal pole.

  “Why do you have a bear trap on a ship?” Lucy asked.

  “In case of bears,” Carlos replied, completely serious. He slid the zucchini into one of the legs of the wetsuit then dramatically held his arm out across Ingrid. “Stand back!”

  Everyone was not impressed. Until Carlos pressed the pole on the trigger mechanism and the bear trap snapped shut on the wetsuit. They all stared as the mesh seemed to solidify under the teeth of the bear trap. Carlos struggled to get the trap open.

  “A little help, Ingrid,” Carlos ordered.

  “Dude,” Shane said as he stepped up and yanked the trap open then let it snap shut after the suit was removed. “A few push-ups, maybe some curls, and you can get those arms into shape.”

  Carlos just glared as he pulled the zucchini free of the wetsuit. There were some marks and bruising where the trap closed on it, but other than that the vegetable was unharmed.

  “How?” Max asked, dumbfounded.

  “That is propriety information,” Carlos said, a smug look on his face. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Ballantine?”

  “It’s magic. That’s all you need to know,” Ballantine said. “Move it along, Carlos.”

  “Ingrid!” Carlos shouted.

  “Shut up!” Ingrid shouted back as she walked out of the Toyshop with a large rifle in her hands. “Yell at me again and I’ll demonstrate this on your balls.”