by Jake Bible
She heard the hatch above on the catwalk open and she froze, terrified to move or even breathe. Boot steps echoed through the bay and she pressed her body as far into the sub’s cockpit as possible, hoping she was out of sight from whoever was coming. Her view out of the sub was limited, since the hatch was so small, and she hoped the view into the sub was just as obscured.
Men’s voices called out in Spanish and she picked out a few choice curse words here and there. She heard boots descending a ladder then land on top of the sub. There were more curse words and then a loud thump.
Someone was inside the cargo hold. She hadn’t closed the hold doors after the cocaine was removed and the men must have decided to double check to make sure none of the cargo was left behind. Her teeth began to chatter as her heart crawled into her throat. She stank of fear and hated herself for it, but she didn’t break. She stayed quiet, her natural default mode anyway, and waited.
The sub shook as she heard the man leave the cargo hold and begin to make his way atop the sub to the cockpit hatch. She could hear him speaking to someone over a radio and the voice that replied was very angry. Moshi almost lost it, but shoved the fear down, as she looked about the cockpit, desperate for an answer to her predicament.
There, easily within reach, was her tablet. She had been taking notes on it and uploading her findings to the Beowulf II’s mainframe. She’d even used it to get the backtracked coordinates to Darby and her mini-sub.
But now she needed it for something else. She snatched it up and flipped through page after page until she found the system she needed. She was surprised to find an override already in place, but she easily bypassed that and took control of all the hatches.
A loud claxon rang out as the hatch by the catwalk above slammed shut.
Men began shouting and she heard the boots on the sub stop then turn and run. Boots on the ladder, boots on the catwalk, hands pounding at the sealed hatch.
Moshi shoved away from where she’d wedged herself and threw switches and yanked at levers. The cargo hold hatch doors shut on the sub and so did the hatch above her. She scrambled to it and twisted the wheel, making sure it was completely sealed before she turned her attention back to her tablet.
She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and began the protocol to fill the specimen bay with water. Even through the hull, she could hear men shouting and yelling. Then gunfire as they started to shoot at the sub.
She shrieked as bullets impacted the faux skin of the whale and metal hull it hid underneath. She settled her hands on the controls and waited for the sound she needed to hear. While she struggled to ignore the sounds she didn’t want to hear. More gunfire and then muted screams as water filled the bay and rushed up over the sub.
There was nowhere for the men to go. Moshi didn’t want to kill them, but in order for the specimen bay doors to open, the bay had to be completely filled. The pressure had to equalize or the bay doors wouldn’t budge.
Tears streamed down her face as the screams were finally silent and her tablet chimed. She pressed the button that flashed red and the doors in front of the sub split down the middle, opening up for her escape.
***
The ocean water distorted his view through the hatch porthole as Diego stood there, having joined the men below, and watched the sub escape into open waters. The corpses of his men that had been trapped inside floated about the specimen bay. Some were sucked out of the bay by the sub’s passage, but others just bobbed up against the ceiling and the catwalk.
Diego didn’t flinch as a man’s face appeared at the porthole, his eyes bulged and mouth wide open. The man’s corpse kept floating and was soon lost from sight.
None of the men that stood behind Diego said a word. They just waited for their boss to decide the next plan of action. Most of them hoped the plan wouldn’t be to turn and kill them. Diego was cold and calculating, and wasn’t known for brutally killing his own men in frustration, but then he wasn’t called El Serpiente for nothing.
Diego turned about and the men flinched. He smiled slightly at that.
“There is another place the product could be,” Diego said.
“Men have checked the main cargo hold, sir,” a man said, the rifle in his hands shaking slightly. “There was no sign of the product there.”
“I doubt they would put that type of cargo where any sailor could get at it,” Diego sneered. “Do you? Is that what you really think a person like Ballantine would do? Or any of these Grendel operators?”
“No, sir,” the man replied. “I was only making sure you knew we checked there. I wanted you to know we were thorough.”
“Does that look thorough?” Diego asked, looking back over his shoulder at the porthole. “It looks like anything but thorough.”
“Yes, sir. My apologies, sir.”
“I don’t need your apologies,” Diego said as she shoved past the men and headed for the stairs. “I need your guns. Follow me. I’ll show you thorough.”
***
“She’s gone!” Ingrid cried. “She made it out! See!”
Ingrid showed the men her tablet and the view of a happy Moshi waving at them from the sub’s cockpit. Then the image started to pixelate and went black.
“Where’d she go? What happened?” Ingrid asked.
“She was using the camera on her tablet,” Carlos said. “She’s out of the ship’s Wi-Fi range.”
“Oh, right,” Ingrid said.
“She’s out. Good,” Lake said. “But what is she going to do with that sub?”
“Whatever she wants,” Ballantine responded. “She is a highly capable, intelligent woman. I am sure she will find a good use for it.”
“She’ll find a good use for it? That’s your answer?” Lake snapped. “That doesn’t help us or anyone on this ship!”
“Moshi won’t abandon us,” Ballantine said. “I know the woman well. She is not a coward.”
“She hides whenever anyone comes into the Toyshop!” Lake yelled.
“Don’t call it the Toy-” Carlos started to say then was stopped by Lake’s fist.
“Acting Captain Lake,” Ballantine warned, pressing his hand against Lake’s chest. “Calm. The. Fuck. Down.”
The tone of Ballantine’s voice resonated with Lake and he took a step back, shook his head, then frowned at Carlos.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I lost my temper. I’m supposed to be the one on this ship that always keeps his cool. It won’t happen again.” He took a deep breath. “But I still don’t think that woman can help. She doesn’t ever speak, for God’s sake.”
“Maybe she just doesn’t have anything to say,” Ballantine smiled at the acting captain.
***
“He’s coming around,” Max said, holding onto his brother as they floated in the ocean water. “Shane? Can you hear me, dude?”
“I can,” Shane said. “And smell you. You need a mint.”
“Fuck off,” Max said and shoved his brother away, causing the man to dip under water.
Shane came up sputtering and held out a hand. “Sorry, sorry.”
“Did you see Darren down there?” Kinsey asked, her voice panicked.
“Just now? No,” Shane replied. “And not before I flew the sharky skies, either. There’s no sign of him?”
“No,” Thorne said tersely as he continued to look at the water underneath them. He bobbed his head down then came up for air. “I don’t see any of them.”
“Any of them?” Shane asked. “Any of who? The shark and Darren?”
“Yes,” Thorne said. “And another.”
“Another?” Kinsey asked. “Who else is down there?”
“I don’t know,” Thorne said. “Maybe I was seeing things. One shark is dead and the other attacked Shane so that makes two.”
They just watched the commander as he tried to work something out.
“If the timing was right then there’s only one more,” Thorne said. “But…”
“But what?�
�� Kinsey asked. “Daddy did you see another shark?”
“I don’t know,” Thorne replied.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Max said. “There might be a third? But we saw the videos! It was obvious only two were attacking all those people!”
“Yeah, how could there be a third?” Max asked.
“How the fuck should I know!” Thorne snapped. “But Ballantine did say there could be a third. Or even a fourth.”
“Well, that’s comforting,” Max muttered.
“What’s that?” Kinsey asked as several meters away bubbles started to come up to the surface. “Is that one of the sharks?”
In seconds it became clear it was. And so much more.
The shark exploded from the water, launching itself high into the air. And holding on for dear life, with one hand on the shark’s dorsal fin, while the other pressed a channel pistol to the monster’s side, sat Darren. He was screaming his head off, spewing every vile epithet he knew at the beast as it flew through the air.
He was also pulling the trigger over and over on the channel pistol. Despite the gun’s limitations out of the water, it was obvious Darren was doing some damage as blood sprayed in all directions and the rest of Team Grendel watched in awe as holes burst open on the side of the beast.
The shark slammed into the water on its side and Darren was thrown free. He landed just feet from Kinsey and she swam to him, taking him up in her arms. He held the channel pistol in his hand and was still pulling the trigger over and over even though the magazine was long since emptied.
Emptied into the shark that floated on the surface of the water for a minute then started to sink.
“I’m going to make sure,” Thorne said as he dived down and swam towards the shark corpse.
The beast kept sinking fast and Thorne stopped, settled himself as best he could, took aim, and fired until his own pistol clicked empty. He watched as far below more holes opened up in the shark’s side then several small explosions ripped the monster in half.
He swam up quickly and grinned at his Team.
“Done,” he smiled. “That one isn’t coming back.”
“Then what’s that there?” Shane asked as large bubbles broke the surface of the water.
Then the whale sub surfaced. The Team stared.
The cockpit hatch opened on the sub as did the cargo hold doors.
Moshi peeked her head out of the cockpit and grinned at the Team. She gestured for them to get into the cargo hold and none of the operators needed to be told twice. They swam as fast as they could, Kinsey helping Darren, then climbed aboard.
Max and Shane scrambled up into the cargo hold then reached down as Thorne and Kinsey tried to help boost Darren up to them.
“Jesus he’s heavy,” Max said as he snagged one of Darren’s arms.
“No shit,” Shane said.
“Did you guys see that?” Darren mumbled. “I rode a shark. I fucking rode it like a flying kite. Killed the fucker too. I’m a shark cowboy.”
“Yep, you rode and killed a shark, pardner,” Shane said, finally able to get his hand up under Darren for better leverage. “You’ll be telling that story the rest of your life.”
Kinsey and Thorne steadied Darren as Max and Shane lifted him up into the cargo hold. Then the brothers appeared again and held down their arms.
“Come on,” Max said.
“You’re next,” Shane added.
“You first,” Thorne insisted. “Then me.”
“But-”
“Don’t argue, Kins,” Thorne said. “Just get up in the whale sub.”
“Mark that on the list of shit you thought you’d never say,” Shane said as he got a hold of one of Kinsey’s hands while Max grabbed the other.
“That is going to be a long list before our time with Ballantine is done,” Max laughed. “I can guarantee that.”
Kinsey was pulled all the way up and she spun about and reached for her father.
Thorne started to reach up then stopped, his attention drawn to the water.
“Daddy?” Kinsey asked.
“It’s okay,” Thorne said. “Thought I felt something, but you can see there’s nothing there.”
He reached up and his finger tips touched Kinsey’s. And then he was gone.
But instead of being pulled under the water, Thorne was dragged across it, his body sticking up like he was a dorsal fin himself. Surrounding his body was the massive mouth of a shark, yet this one wasn’t quite like the others. It was scarred and beaten up, parts of it chunked out in long, red gouges. It had seen better times.
“DADDY!” Kinsey screamed as she watched her father get taken further away. And then he was gone as the shark dove. “Daddy!”
“Get in,” a quiet voice said behind her.
Kinsey, Shane and Max all turned to see Moshi waving at them.
“Get in the hold,” she said quietly. “We’ll go get your father.”
She slammed the cockpit hatch shut and the three operators scrambled to get into the cargo hold and seal the doors so they could go get their father, uncle, commander.
Chapter Seven: Tres
Loud pounding drew Gunnar’s attention to the hatch and he flipped off the man that looked in through the hatch’s porthole.
“That’s a great idea, Gun,” Mike said as he slipped down out of his wheelchair, the Desert Eagle tucked in his waistband up against his back. “Taunting the enemy never backfires.”
“They can’t get in here and I could give two shits,” Gunnar said. “I’m so close to working this all out.”
“What does it fucking matter?” Mike asked. “Answers aren’t worth your life!”
“They are to me!” Gunnar snapped. “Answers are all I have! I’m not a SEAL, I’m not a captain of a ship, I’m nothing except for my research!”
“But this shit isn’t your research!” Mike countered. “You study marine life! Fucking ghost whales and giant sharks! Not fucking cocaine!”
“I study the cocaine if it affects marine life,” Gunnar said. “And it’s not cocaine.”
“It’s not…what?” Mike asked. “You said your tests came up as cocaine every single time. What the fuck is it?”
“I think it’s-” Gunnar began to reply, but the hatch suddenly opened and several men walked in, rifles pointed at him. “Oh...crap...”
Gunnar dove out of the way as bullets flew towards him, but the slugs obliterated the counter where he had just been working at, destroying everything
“FUCKERS!” Gunnar shouted. “YOU FUCKS!”
More men streamed into the lab and found him where he laid, their rifles pointed at his head and chest. He looked around, but Mike was nowhere to be seen.
“Hello, Doctor Peterson,” Diego said. “I am Diego Fernandez.” The man pulled a long knife from a sheath on his belt. “I am also known as El Serpiente.” He pointed the knife at the pallet of cocaine. “That belongs to my boss, do you mind if we take it off your hands?” He kneeled down next to Gunnar. “If you do mind then I can also take your hands. Your choice.”
“Don’t really have much choice, do I?” Gunnar replied. “You’ll kill me and take it or take it and kill me. Two sides of the same coin.”
“More than likely,” Diego shrugged. “But I like to give those I’m about to kill at least the illusion of choice. It eases their minds.”
“Hey,” Beau said from the hatch, the two meat cleavers in his hands dripping with blood. “Step away from the doc.”
Diego looked at Beau and the gore and blood smeared apron he wore over his black tank top. The man was short, but Diego came from short people and knew that didn’t make a goddamn bit of difference. His uncle had been barely five five and Diego watched him rip a dog’s head off with his bare hands.
It had been Diego’s dog. His uncle didn’t live long after that. Actually, he did live long, just not very comfortably.
Diego watched Beau for a minute then stood up, knife in hand.
“You any good with those?”
Diego asked.
“The blood isn’t answer enough for ya?” Beau replied.
“It is,” Diego said and nodded to his men.
They all brought their rifles up and took aim.
Then one started screaming. And another. And another.
Diego looked at his men then looked down at the ground and the crawling form of Mike Pearlman, with a blood coated scalpel in his hand. He slashed out and cut right through another man’s boot and into his Achilles’ tendon.
“You,” Diego snarled. “I know you.”
He threw his knife, but Mike rolled out of the way. It bounced off the metal floor and skidded across the lab. Mike slashed another man’s leg then pulled his pistol and fired at Diego, but Diego was called El Serpiente for many reasons, not just his cold-blooded nature. He also happened to be very fast.
As Mike fired, and Diego ran across the lab, staying ahead of Mike’s aim, Gunnar pushed up from the floor and ran to the place on the wall Ballantine had indicated earlier. He pressed his hand on the wall and a compartment popped open. He looked inside and smiled.
“Down!” Beau shouted and Gunnar hit the deck.
Gunfire rang out then a thud and a scream. Gunnar looked over and saw a man fall to the floor, a meat cleaver stuck between his shoulder blades. The rifle he held clattered to the floor as he tried to reach back and pull the knife free.
“No, no, no,” Beau said as he walked in and swung away with the other cleaver. The man’s head tumbled to the deck. “Blades stay where I put them.” He looked at Gunnar. “You okay?”
“I am,” Gunnar said. “Behind you!”
Beau dropped to a knee and spun around. Lashing out with the cleaver. It buried deep into a man’s belly. Blood and intestines spilled out around Beau’s wrist and he tried to pull back, but the cleaver was stuck. Beau had swung so hard that he cut all the way to the man’s spine.