“Holy shit,” Kinsey said. “This looks great.”
“You can say that again,” Lucy Durning said, getting up and hugging Kinsey. “But you‘re the one that looks great.”
“Thanks,” Kinsey responded. “You too.”
Nearly six feet tall, wide at the shoulder, with a head of shockingly red hair, Lucy was an ex-shooter for the HITRON division of the US Coast Guard. But issues of improper advances by a superior forced her to leave. Not as trained in hand to hand fighting as the ex-SEALs, or small arms as Kinsey, Lucy was a sniper with skills that rivaled even the Reynolds brothers, and everyone knew she could hold her own in combat.
“Well, the gang’s all here,” Ballantine said, clapping his hands together. “Welcome back, Team Grendel.”
“Are Darby and Ditcher included in that?” Max asked.
“Yeah, are they? Or is Darby still your girl Friday and Ditcher just our humble captain?” Shane asked.
“We need clarification,” Max added.
“For peace of mind,” Shane continued.
“Boys, shut up,” Thorne said. “You’re exhausting me and I’ve only been around you for twenty minutes.”
“I’m no one’s girl,” Darby said, fixing her eyes on Max.
“He said it,” Max responded, hooking a thumb at his brother.
“Dude, I think she was giving you a signal,” Shane said, whispering loudly.
Darby just sighed and shook her head.
“Well, this has been plenty of fun so far,” Ballantine said, pointing at the monitors. “But, out of the fire and into the frying pan.”
“You got that backwards,” Max said.
“Does it really matter?” Ballantine asked, his eyes cold steel.
“Uh, no?” Max replied.
“Exactly,” Ballantine said. “Earlier today two very, very large sharks decided to feast on some tourists down off the coast of Baja Mexico.” He stepped to the largest monitor and swiped his hand across the screen. A new image came up and everyone in the briefing room gasped. “They went on a bit of a feeding frenzy rampage, to say the least.”
“Those the same sharks as we dealt with off Somalia?” Max asked, looking at Gunnar.
“The images are shaky and hard to make out, but I’d say yes,” Gunnar replied.
“I agree with Dr. Peterson,” Ballantine said. “And the intel I have gotten through back channels tells me they are the very sharks we are looking for, the clones o
f
C. Megalodo
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.”
“No sign of the pseud
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Livyatan Melvill
e
in the area this time,” Darren said.
“Oh, God, Ditcher,” Shane said. “The whale? Again? Let it go, bro. No one cares about your Moby Dick when there’re people-eating sharks getting all feedy with American tourists.”
“As captain, I can have you thrown overboard,” Darren frowned. “And don’t call it Moby Dick.”
“Why are we turning back to San Diego?” Lucy asked.
“I got a call from an old friend,” Gunnar said. “He’s in trouble and since his name came up with the whole cartel trying to kill us thing, I thought we should go see him before we get to Mexico.”
“Normally, I’d argue that saving lives is more important,” Ballantine said. “But the word from the company is that the two incidents may be related.”
“The company going to stay out of our shit this time?” Thorne asked. “Or are they sending more observers to betray us just like last time?”
“Yes, that was unfortunate,” Ballantine replied. “In more ways than you know, Commander. But I have been assured I have full autonomy with Team Grendel from here on out.”
“Good,” Thorne said.
“Where’re we picking up your bud?” Shane asked Gunnar.
“Remember that old private marina we used to hang out at in high school?” Gunnar asked. “I took him there a few times when we were seeing each other. He said that’s where we’d find him.”
“And while we are making our way there,” Ballantine said. “I think we should use our time to brush up on our megalodon trivia. Dr. Peterson, would you do the honors?”
“Me? Why me?” Gunnar asked.
“You are the marine biologist here,” Ballantine said. “And I know you have been studying every ounce of data we’ve collected on these creatures.”
“Been checking up on me?”
“I get an alert anytime someone logs into the company mainframe and accesses certain information,” Ballantine replied. “It’s a precaution. In your case, it’s a nice surprise. I’m glad Kinsey hasn’t taken up all of your attention.”
“What does that mean?” Kinsey asked.
“Just that helping someone with recovery from substance dependence is not an easy task,” Ballantine said. “It can also be a time consuming task since diligence is of the utmost importance. Wouldn’t you agree, Ms. Thorne?”
“The sharks we are looking for are exact clones of
a
C. Megalodo
n
fossil found in the Mariana Trench,” Gunnar said, moving the conversation away from the conflict that was about to erupt as he saw Kinsey’s face start to turn red with anger. “However, according to Mr. Ballantine, the outfit that did the cloning also messed with the shark’s genetics. There was supposed to be only one, but the specimen escaped and turned out to be pregnant. We have no idea how many are out there currently.”
“There are at least two off the coast of Baja at the moment,” Ballantine said. “Possibly a third.” He paused then shrugged. “Maybe a fourth.”
“How do you know that?” Thorne asked. “Witnesses?”
“I haven’t been idle while we’ve been apart,” Ballantine replied. “Let’s say there are more cogs in the machine than what you see here.”
“But we don’t get to know about those cogs, do we?” Thorne asked.
“Safer that way,” Ballantine nodded. “And not everything is as black and white as I know you like, Commander. Let’s just leave it at that.”
“Anyway, as I was saying,” Gunnar said. “If the rampaging sharks are like the ones we dealt with in Somalia, then they were created to be hunter/killers. They will attack without regard for their own safety. So I hope the B3 is up for this mission.”
“It is,” Darren grinned. “Titanium triple hull with anti-shark defenses.”
“That’s a thing?” Max asked.
“It is now,” Darren replied.
“Cool.”
“Yes, very,” Ballantine said. “Dr. Peterson, please continue.”
“As far as we know, megalodons didn’t grow much longer than sixty or seventy feet,” Gunnar continued. “But we all saw in Somalia that these cloned bastards can get a shit ton longer than that.”
“That big mofo we took down was closer to 100 plus,” Shane said.
“Yeah, it was,” Gunnar agreed. “But that was the ‘mother’ clone. These should be ‘adolescent’ clones birthed by the ‘mother’ and not fully mature, so closer to sixty feet.”
“Oh, just sixty? No problem,” Max said.
“Scared, Reynolds?” Lucy smirked.
“Uh, no, shut up,” Max said. “Are you?”
“Fuck yeah,” Lucy said. “I still wake up screaming sometimes.”
Everyone looked at her for a second, a little taken aback by the honesty, but one by one, they nodded in agreement.
“Okay, we all went through hell,” Thorne said. “We had almost a year to get over it and pull it together. Now we suck it up and put it behind us. Anyone think they need more time can head down to the galley and help Beau peel potatoes.”
“Don’t do that,” Lucy said. “The guy is still pissed he got ditched last time. I’d stay away from the mess and galley, if you can.”
“What is for dinner?” Shane asked, ignoring Lucy’s warning. “I haven’t eaten in fucking forever.” The look he received from his uncle shut him up quickly. “Never mind. I’m good.”
“We don’t know what all the genetic modifications to the sharks are since the company will not divulge that information,” Gunnar said, looking at Ballantine to move along the conversation.
“My hands are tied on that one, Gunnar,” he replied. “Sorry. Even an outfit like the company has to sign non-disclosure agreements. I have tried to get all the details, but even I have limitations.” He smiled slightly. “But you know me and limitations.”
“Dear God,” Lucy whispered as she watched one of the monitors. It showed a shaky cell phone video of a woman being bitten in half by one of the sharks. The beast disappeared from view, but whoever held the phone, focused in on the severed torso bobbing in the water. “Please tell me this hasn’t been uploaded to YouTube.”
“I wish I could,” Ballantine said. “But there was no way to contain it. The videos are all over social media. The lid is off the box and the Mexican government is not happy. They are our new client.”
“Say what?” Max said.
“The company is a multinational conglomerate with a wide and varied client list,” Ballantine said. “This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve interacted with the Mexican government in my capacity as a company representative.”
“We’re almost there,” Lake’s voice sounded over the PA in the briefing room. “But the B3 is too big to get into the marina. You’ll need to take a Zodiac in.”
“Thanks, Marty,” Darren said, standing up. “We done with school time?”
“Dick,” Gunnar said.
Darren gave him a big grin and turned to leave the briefing room.
***
As the Zodiac sped across the water with Darren, Gunnar, Max, and Kinsey, with Shane driving, Mike sat on the edge of the old dock and waved to them, glad to know someone was coming to get him out of the shit he’d found himself in. The teens had long since bailed, and although reluctant to give it back, Mike had let them leave with the cell phone so he really had no idea if Gunnar was going to show or not. He was beyond grateful to see the man wave back.
The Zodiac reached the dock and everyone proceeded to ignore the man missing the bottom half of his legs; they were too busy staring at what floated in the water next to the dock.
“Hey, Ditcher, there’s your whale,” Max smiled.
“I’d tell you to fuck off, Max, but I don’t really care enough to do it,” Darren said. “What I care about is finding out what the fuck that thing is.”
“I thought it was going to be an SDV,” Mike said from above them. “But turned out to be a mule.”
“That’s a SEAL Delivery Vehicle?” Shane asked. “Uh, kinda dressed up, isn’t it?”
“To sonar, radar, and pretty much to the eye, it looks like a blue whale,” Mike said. “Which is why the cartels want it.”
“Cartels?” Kinsey asked. “Which one, exactly?”
“Don’t know,” Mike said. “There’s some guy named Espanoza running it. He’s the one that sent us out in the subs with his coke.”
“Coke?” Darren said. “There’s coke in that?”
“Yeah,” Mike replied, pulling his way over to the side of the dock where the whale was. “I’ll show you.”
He deftly pushed himself off the dock and onto the back of the sub, grabbing onto the cockpit hatch to keep from sliding off. He was lost from sight for a minute, then the cargo hold doors started to open on the back of the sub. Mike pulled himself back out and rested, pointing to the cargo hold.
“How much you think that is?” he asked.
Shane brought the Zodiac about and Darren climbed up onto the sub.
“Shit, that’s got to be over a hundred kilos, maybe two,” Darren said.
“Lookout,” Max said as he climbed up also. “Dude, you don’t know shit about eyeballing quantity. You’re staring at almost a thousand kilos.”
“Bullshit,” Darren said.
“No, that’d be about right with how much weight this sub can carry,” Mike said. “And that cargo hold isn’t even full.”
“Shit,” Darren said.
“Not to be a dick, Mike, since it is good to see you,” Gunnar said. “But what the fuck did you get yourself mixed up in?”
“Sorry,” Mike said. “The guy said he wouldn’t hurt our friends or family if we made the run. We agreed and were doing fine. Then it all went to shit fast.”
“We? Who’s we?” Darren asked.
“Let me guess,” Max said. “John Sherman was one of the other guys?”
“Yeah,” Mike nodded. “How’d you know that?”
“We saved his ex-wife and kids’ lives today,” Shane said. “Ruined some cartel thugs’ plans.”
“What went to shit?” Gunnar asked. “Where are the other subs?”
“I don’t know where they are,” Mike said. “I got the fuck out of there too fast to see what happened to them.”
“Dude, you’re gonna have to just come out with it,” Shane said.
“You won’t believe me,” Mike said, looking at Gunnar. “I barely believe it.”
“You called me for a reason, Mike,” Gunnar responded. “Why? Because we were together a while back? Because you thought they’d come after me? Why?”
“Because I knew you were connected,” Mike said. “And because you’re a doctor of marine biology. If I tell you what I saw you’d know if it actually happened or if I’m crazy.”
“Tell us,” Gunnar pushed. “Now.”
“Sharks, man,” Mike said. “Giant fucking sharks. They came out of nowhere and I just kept going. Didn’t look back.”