“Define busy?” Darren responded.
“We’re about to leave US waters and there are two Mexican patrol vessels steaming towards us on the other side of the boundary. Each has a Panther with rotors active,” Lake replied. “I’d feel better if one or both of you was up here on the bridge with me. The boats are coming in fast.”
“I bet they are,” Ballantine said. He stood up, looked at Thorne, and pointed at Mike. “Get him below. Hide his ass. If any Mexican nationals board the B3, I don’t want them finding him. Are we understood, Commander?”
“Not really, but I’ll make sure he isn’t found,” Thorne said. “I know this boat pretty well.”
“Take him to my lab,” Gunnar said. “We can lock it down tight. No one can get in there if I don’t want them to.”
“What do you mean by you know this boat pretty well?” Kinsey asked her father. “When have you been on the ship?”
“Unlike you, I haven’t been on rehab vacation, Kins,” Thorne said harshly. “I’ve been working all this time since Somalia.”
She watched as her father wheeled Mike out of the briefing room.
“You okay, ‘Sey?” Darren asked, seeing the stricken look on Kinsey’s face.
“Fine,” Kinsey said through gritted teeth. “The asshole just can’t help being…”
“An asshole?” Max finished.
“That’s our uncle, dude,” Shane said, punching him in the shoulder.
“And her dad, dude,” Max replied.
Kinsey gave them a weak smile and walked out of the briefing room.
“Guys? Try to be a little more sensitive, okay?” Darren asked. “She’s been through a lot.”
He exited the room also and Max and Shane were left with Ballantine. The man shook his head and gave the brothers a big grin.
“It can be hard being the one that isn’t batshit insane,” Ballantine said, clapping them on the shoulders as he exited as well.
“Dude, did Ballantine just put us in the non-batshit category with him?” Shane asked.
“Yeah, I think he did,” Max said.
“This place is so fucked.”
“That it is, bro,” Max replied. “Want to get the guns, climb into the crow’s nest, smoke a fatty, and watch it all play out from on high?”
“You know I do,” Shane grinned.
The two Mexican Navy patrol ships flanked the Beowulf III, each taking a side so the “research” vessel was boxed in.
Ballantine could see the impressive figure of Ricardo Espanoza standing on deck of the port side patrol boat, clad in black and dark grey camo fatigues.
“The coke isn’t all that’s going to complicate things,” Darren said from Ballantine’s side. “That guy is Mexican Fuerzas Especiales- Mexican Navy Special Forces. How do we play this?”
“Like always, Captain,” Ballantine smiled big then waved at Espanoza. “Cool. With our fingers on the triggers”
“It would be handy to know where Darby is,” Darren said. “What company business is she handling?”
“Business you don’t need to worry about,” Ballantine said. “So let it go.”
“Fine,” Darren said. “Whatever you say.” He looked over at the other ship. “Are we going to get on with this and do our job? Or is this a game to see who blinks first?”
“It’s always a game of who blinks first, Darren,” Ballantine responded. “That’s what life is. But, to answer your question, we are here to do our job. That job is to kill, or potentially capture, two, maybe three, possibly four, monster sharks. The most expedient way to do that is invite the commander onto the B3. Get everyone on the same page.”
“Fine,” Darren nodded. “I’ll have Lake hail- Wait, a fucking minute!” Ballantine smiled as Darren finally heard what he just said. “Capture? Are you out of your fucking mind? We both know what those fucking things can do sober!”
“You realize you just referred to sharks and sobriety in the same sentence, right Darren?” Ballantine smiled wider. He reached out and gripped Darren’s shoulder. Darren tried to pull away, but Ballantine was having none of that and pulled Darren in closer. “Don’t you just love this job?”
Darren tried to be angry, tried to protest, tried all kinds of emotional indignation, but he just couldn’t. When it came down to it, Darren did love his job.
“Nobody gets killed this time,” Darren said. “We err on the side of caution.”
“Of course,” Ballantine said. “That’s why there’s Team Grendel.”
***
Kinsey watched from the bridge, Gunnar by her side, her father on the other side, as Lake piloted the B3 as close to Espanoza’s ship as possible.
“Anyone else have a bad feeling?” Lake asked.
“I always have a bad feeling,” Thorne said. “That’s why we’re a shoot first kind of Team.”
“Not today,” Lake said. “You shoot first and those patrol ships will open up on us. The B3 will be ripped apart in seconds.”
“Maybe,” Thorne said. “Maybe not.”
“You do see the 76mm on the bow of that ship, right? How about the M2 turrets?” Kinsey said. “Not impressed? Maybe that 30mm cannon on the stern will change your mind. There’s no maybe not about what those guns can do.”
“If they do fire, they better be lucky,” Thorne replied. “Because this ship won’t go down easily.”
“What do you know that I don’t?” Lake asked, obviously annoyed with Thorne’s attitude.
“Just that I never plan on being on a sinking ship again,” Thorne said. “And I made sure Ballantine knew that.”
Gunnar looked from the commander to the CO and then at Kinsey. “Shouldn’t you guys gear up or something?”
Thorne turned and frowned. “Shouldn’t you be in that fancy lab of yours below deck with your boyfriend?”
“Right,” Gunnar glared. “I probably should. Thanks for reminding me, Commander.”
He gave Kinsey a pissed off frown then turned and left the bridge.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Kinsey snapped.
“Nope, not gonna happen,” Lake said, pointing to the hatchway. “No family drama on the bridge while I pilot between two Mexican naval patrol ships. New rule.”
Kinsey stomped to the hatch and gestured for Thorne to follow. He didn’t budge.
“We’re going to have a chat,” Kinsey said. “Now. Not negotiable.”
Thorne focused on her, his eyes cold and blank. “Fine.”
“Yeah, it’s fucking fine,” Kinsey said as Thorne stepped past her and out into the warm sea air. “Let’s chat.”
Kinsey walked to the aft observation deck and made sure no one was watching then whirled on her father, her fist coming up fast. Thorne took the shot to the jaw and stumbled back a bit. He shook his head, rubbed his jaw, and then smiled.
“This how we’re going to chat?” Thorne asked.
“If it it’ll get through to you, then yeah,” Kinsey said.
“Okay,” Thorne said as he rolled his head on his neck, the sound of vertebrae cracking like gunshots. He put his hands out, fists clenched. “You want to fight then we’ll fight.”
“I don’t want to fight!” Kinsey shouted. “I want to know why you’re being such a dickhead!”
Thorne watched her for a moment then lowered his hands. “You really don’t know?”
“No!”
“It’s too soon, Kins,” Thorne replied. “Too soon for you to be out.”
“Too soon?” Kinsey asked, puzzled. “Too soon how?”
“Your recovery,” Thorne said. “You aren’t ready for the field yet.”
“How do you know what I’m ready for?” Kinsey asked, her hands on her hips, jaw stuck out defiantly.
“Because I’m Team leader of Grendel and it’s my job to know,” Thorne said.
“Daddy, I’m not a delicate fucking tea cup,” Kinsey said. “I won’t break. Not this time.”
Thorne rubbed his face and his whole body seemed to deflate.
“You have no idea how many people in recovery say that,” Thorne said. “You never trust a junkie to diagnose their own readiness.”
“So whe
n
d
o
you trust a junkie?” Kinsey asked.
“Never,” Thorne replied. “But you learn to deal with that.”
“Bullshit!” Kinsey shouted. “I’m not some horny sailor that got strung out on smack by a Thai whore! I’m not a fucking SEAL that came home to find his wife banging the neighbor and decided to dive into a bottle! I’m-”
“Different?” Thorne interrupted. “Every junkie thinks they’re different, Kins. Every single one. That’s what makes them exactly the same. You know why I’ve been cold and haven’t talked with you for a while? Because I could have written this conversation down word for word. It’s never different. Ever. At one point, I thought it would be, I thought giving you a job would get your head straight. But it’s been time away from the life that’s gotten your head straight. I don’t want to mess that up.”
“But it is messed up,” Kinsey said, getting her father’s face. “I act like it’s all good, but it’s not. Know what could help make it good? If instead of distancing yourself, you actually got involved. I could have used my father these past few months. I could have used your support, your friendship, your love. Instead, I got the ‘busy with work, we’ll talk soon’ emails and texts. You were too chicken shit to be there. You decided to just lump me together with all the other junkies and write me off.”
“I never wrote you off,” Thorne growled. “Not ever. You of all people should know that.”
“Oh, because you resigned when my blood work came back positive for amphetamines?” Kinsey asked, her head cocked, defiant. “This again? You resigned to save your own reputation, not to save mine.”
“You think that’s it?” Thorne asked. “It’s all of this! I brought you into Team Grendel to get you clean, to get you thinking straight. Then it all went to shit. We all nearly died. I couldn’t protect you.”
“I didn’t need you to. Risk of death is part of the job,” Kinsey said. “You shouldn’t have brought me in if you didn’t want me to be at risk.”
“It’s not that,” Thorne said. “It’s when we got home. When I dropped you off at Gunnar’s that last time…”
Kinsey watched her father for a minute then took his hand. He flinched at first, but relaxed into Kinsey’s grip.
“What is it, Daddy?”
“I dropped you off, drove two blocks, and watched a drug deal happen right there in the open,” Thorne snorted. “On a street corner in La Jolla. Th
e
goo
d
part of town.”
“It’s SoCal, Daddy,” Kinsey laughed. “There is no good part.”
“Yeah, I realized that,” Thorne said. “It just all hit me so hard. I’d lived in the insulated world of the Navy for my entire adult life. Drugs happened, people fell apart, but it was the Navy. There was structure; rules and regulations in place to handle everything. But there is none of that in the real world.”
“Okay, you aren’t wrong there,” Kinsey said. “I wish you would have just told me, instead of bailing. But it is what it is. However, that doesn’t explain the sudden assholeitis you came down with today.”
“We’re back in the routine,” Thorne replied. “Back with Team Grendel. And even though it is crazy, it still should have some of that structure. But it doesn’t. Even out here, even chasing monster sharks, there’re still drugs. I can’t shield you from them in real life or in our work life.”
“Oh, Daddy,” Kinsey laughed, hugging him tight. “You don’t have to worry about me. You want a deterrent from doing coke? Watch some of those videos down there. Ballantine should have the company sell that shit to the networks. Have kids watch that and they’ll stay off drugs forever.”
“So, I’m just being a stupid old man, is that it?” Thorne grumbled.
“No,” Kinsey said, pushing back so she could look him in the eye. “You’re just being a father worried for his daughter. Probably the most natural thing in the world.” She stuck a finger under his nose. “So don’t go AWOL on me again, got it? No more of that bullshit, frogman.”
“No more of that bullshit,” Thorne nodded then sighed. “I should probably apologize to Gunnar, huh?”
“Probably,” Kinsey said. “But later. Gun does some of his best work when he thinks people are mad at him.”
“He does?”
“That’s what Darren has always said,” Kinsey smiled.
They hugged again and then Thorne turned and hustled to the lower deck, ready to join Ballantine and Darren.
***
Max and Shane passed the joint back and forth as they sat in the crow’s nest, their sniper rifles resting across their laps.
“Gets ya right there,” Max said, pounding his chest, his eyes on Kinsey below.
“No shit, bro,” Shane replied after a long drag. “Those two, man. Too much love, too much pride.”
“That’s why we never argue,” Max said. “I hate you and have zero pride in myself.”
“Me too,” Shane said. “You are the bane of my existence.” He held up the joint. “And I try to cover my own self-loathing in a haze of the pot.”
“You two are idiots,” Lucy said as she climbed the ladder to them. She handed her .50 caliber rifle to Shane then punched him in the leg. “A father and daughter have a touching moment and you make fun of them? Jerks, both of you.”
“Oh, please, shooter,” Max said. “Those two have been practicing that dance our whole lives.”
“Longer,” Shane said, taking another drag. “If you consider the possibility of reincarnation.”
“I don’t,” Max said. “I’m a firm believer of one and done.”
Lucy sighed and smacked Max on the leg. “Shut up and move over.”
The brothers made space for her in the crow’s nest. Shane offered her the joint after he gave her rifle back, but she waved it off.
“I’m not as experienced as you two,” she said. “One toke and I’d be asleep. Or talking about reincarnation. Low tolerance.”
“You actually have a higher tolerance when you start out,” Max said.
“True fucking story,” Shane nodded, handing the joint to his brother. “Pot doesn’t act like other drugs. You can train your mind to use it, not abuse it.”
Lucy nodded down at Kinsey who stood by the railing and stared out at the transport vessel. “Try telling her that.”
“Sis? No, no, she was deep into the heavy shit. Heroin, meth, pills,” Shane said. “We don’t touch that. Barely drink.”
“Except for a good beer or glass of wine,” Max said. “Organic preferably.”
“And we keep this away from her,” Shane said, taking the joint back from Max. “Only smoke if we’re up here in the crow’s nest.”
“Yeah, we could totally hotbox the whole ship if we lit up below deck,” Max said.
“Which would be an interesting thing to try,” Shane added.
“Are you two hippies or SEALs?” Lucy laughed.
“We are complex men with complex tastes,” Max smiled as he licked his thumb and forefinger and put out the joint then tucked it into his pocket.
“Speaking of complex,” Shane said. “Looks like things are about to get going.”’
***
The ships steamed to a stop and all dropped anchors. Darren watched as Ballantine and Espanoza faced off across the waters.
“He doesn’t look happy,” Darren said.
“He never looks happy,” Ballantine replied. “But he’s tolerable.”