Mega 3: When Giants Collide (Mega Series) (10 page)

“I...don’t know...what...the...fuck...you are...talking about,” Carlos wheezed. “Get...the fuck...off me.”

“Carlos? Moshi?” Ingrid asked as she moved slowly towards the work bench. She didn’t have a headlamp and was feeling blindly in the dim light given off by Moshi’s and Carlos’s. “What’s going on?”

“Get over there with her,” Darren ordered as he swung his carbine towards Moshi.

Then the power came on and Ingrid stopped in her tracks. She looked down at Carlos, looked over at Moshi, and then looked at Team Grendel with their carbines to their shoulders. She stood stock still for a second then turned and bolted.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” Kinsey shouted as she slung her carbine and pulled out her pistol then took off after the woman. “It’s not those two!”

Ingrid sprinted between the shelves, dodging this way and that so Kinsey couldn’t get a bead on her. She yanked gear off the shelves and tossed it to the floor forcing Kinsey to jump and leap over random pieces of equipment and weaponry.

“Goddammit, Ingrid!” Kinsey yelled. “Don’t make me shoot you!”

Ingrid didn’t stop. She just kept winding back through the maze of shelves that made up the Toyshop.

“Ingrid! If you stop now, I promise nothing will happen to you! We just need to talk!” Kinsey yelled.

“Yeah, right!” Ingrid shouted back.

Kinsey zeroed in on the voice and changed directions. She backtracked two rows of shelves and then ran as fast as she could down the aisle between them. Ingrid crossed her path and then bolted towards the wall at the far end of the aisle. Just before getting to the wall, Ingrid tapped at her wrist and suddenly there was nothing but passageway in front of them.

Well, almost nothing but passageway.

“Hey, there,” Max said as he slammed the butt of his rifle into Ingrid’s face just as she reached the secret entrance/exit to the Toyshop. “Forget about us?”

Ingrid hit the floor in an unconscious heap.

“I think she did,” Shane said as he stepped up next to his brother.

“I would have preferred if she was awake, boys,” Ballantine said from behind them. “Pick her up and bring her below.”

“Below?” Kinsey asked as she skidded to a stop and tried to catch her breath. “Why below?”

“Because that’s where my interrogation room is,” Ballantine grinned. “I think it’s the appropriate venue for what is about to happen to our dear, sweet Ingrid.”

“Dude, dial back the scary, will ya?” Shane said.

“Yeah, I think I peed a little,” Max said.

“Just pick her up,” Ballantine frowned. “We don’t have much time.”

***

The door opened and Ballantine stepped out, wiping his hands on a hand towel as he looked up to see Thorne, Darren, Darby, and Carlos standing in the passageway.

“What?” Ballantine asked. “I didn’t have to lay a finger on her, if that’s what you’re worried about. She confessed to everything.”

“You want to fill us in?” Thorne asked.

“Walk with me,” Ballantine said. “I need some fresh air.”

“Can I see her?” Carlos asked, his eyes flitting from Ballantine to the interrogation room door.

“Not a chance in Hell,” Ballantine said. “You are the one that let this happen.”

For once, Carlos kept his mouth shut and just nodded.

“I’ll wait here,” Darby said as she stepped next to the door. She looked at Carlos. “You can wait with me.”

“Okay,” he nodded and gave a weak smile. “I’m sorry, Ballantine. I didn’t know she was-”

“None of us did,” Ballantine said, “but your apology still means nothing. Part of your job is to know what those under you are up to. You failed with this one, Carlos. It’ll be a long time before you can make that up to me. Especially considering what damage you’ve already caused in the past.”

“Don’t,” Darby snarled, “just don’t, Ballantine. That was never his fault, despite how you want to spin your web of lies.”

“We’ll have to permanently agree to disagree on that one, Darby,” Ballantine said. “Commander? Mr. Chambers?”

“Knock off the Mr. Chambers shit,” Darren said, “it doesn’t impress me.”

“I never intended it to,” Ballantine smiled. “Quite the opposite, in fact.”

He walked down the passageway and Thorne and Darren hurried to catch up.

“She’s been in the company’s pocket for quite some time,” Ballantine said. “Apparently her mother has been sick and the company has paid for all of her medical bills as well as hospice care once she took a turn for the worse.”

“Why would the company want her in their pocket?” Darren asked.

“Because they haven’t trusted you since the first Beowulf was lost,” Thorne stated.

Ballantine stopped and fixed his gaze on the commander.

“That’s very perceptive of you, Vincent,” Ballantine said. “You figured that out quickly.”

“I don’t know what went down with that ship,” Thorne said. “Especially since you don’t talk about it.”

“Never,” Ballantine nodded.

“Whatever happened, it was bad enough to put Darby on edge and defend that tech against you,” Thorne said. “I think I know Darby well enough to say that her actions speak volumes on your culpability in the accident.”

“It was far from an accident,” Ballantine said as he started walking again.

“Then what was it?” Darren asked as they took a set of stairs then another up past the next couple of decks. “What the fuck happened on the Beowulf I?”

“Darren,” Ballantine sighed, “I just stated that I never talk about that.”

“I don’t fucking care,” Darren replied. “I just stated that.”

They took more stairs until they were walking onto the upper deck and out into the sunlight and ocean breeze.

“Hey! You guys better come look at this!” Lake yelled down from the bridge.

“In a moment, Captain,” Ballantine said as he waved up at Lake. “We are having a discussion right-”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Ballantine!” Lake snapped. “Get your high and mighty ass up here now!”

“I think we had better do as he says,” Thorne said.

“Apparently,” Ballantine frowned.

They climbed up to the bridge and Ballantine was about to lay into Lake when he was handed a set of binoculars.

“Due east,” Lake said, “just off the horizon.”

Ballantine reluctantly took the binoculars and turned in the direction Lake had indicated. He focused the binoculars and studied the ocean for a few seconds.

“Monkey Balls,” he said as he gave the binoculars to Thorne.

“I’m guessing that’s not good,” Darren said.

“Monkey Balls,” Thorne said as well.

“Hardly original,” Darren responded as the binoculars were handed to him. He put them to his eyes then focused. “Oh, shit. Monkey Balls.”

Just in front of the horizon was a group of ships heading towards them quickly. On the bow of the lead ship were the words “SS Monkey Balls.”

“Those are the people tracking us, right?” Lake asked.

“Yes, Captain, they are,” Ballantine answered.

“That’s a lot of ships,” Lake said.

“It’s not the amount of ships that worries me,” Ballantine said, “but the one leading the charge.”

“I count five ships following the Monkey Balls,” Thorne said then sighed at the stupid name before continuing. “Three are cutter class while two are destroyers. Destroyers, Ballantine. Do you see the flag they are flying?”

“Mexican,” Darren said. “Fucking cartels bought out two Mexican naval destroyers. This is great.”

“The cutters have Somali clan flags,” Lake said. “Fucking pirates again.”

“Tell me, Ballantine,” Thorne said, “if there are three cutters with Somali clan flags and two destroyers flying the Mexican colors, then why are you afraid of the one ship in front with the stupid name Monkey Balls?”

“Because the other ships we can handle,” Ballantine said. “I have faith in the Beowulf and its crew, and more importantly, I have faith in Team Grendel, but the Monkey Balls? If who I think is on that ship is actually on that ship, then I am not sure we can handle them.”

Lake pulled out a Desert Eagle pistol and set it by the wheel. “Can I shoot him if he doesn’t tell us what the fuck is going on?”

“He’s going to tell us,” Darren said, “but you’re the Captain, Marty, you can shoot whomever you want on this ship.”

“There is a Team of men on that ship,” Ballantine continued as if Lake and Darren hadn’t just threatened his life. “A very dangerous Team.”

“A Team?” Thorne asked. “What kind of Team?”

“My first Team, Commander,” Ballantine said as he turned and looked Thorne directly in the eye. “What? You didn’t think Grendel was the first, did you?”

“Son of a bitch,” Darren said.

“You’re saying there are SEALs on that ship coming to kill us?” Lake asked.

“SEALs? Not even close, Captain,” Ballantine replied. “No, they are nothing but cold blooded mercenaries. That’s why when I put Grendel together, and I chose Commander Thorne and his expertise. I knew he’d pick people with integrity and loyalty, as SEALs are trained.”

“So, your first Team didn’t work out and did what?” Thorne asked. “Bit the hand that fed it?”

“Far worse,” Ballantine sighed. “You want to know what happened to the Beowulf I?” Ballantine pointed out at the horizon and the quickly approaching ships. “They happened, Commander, and it is all about to happen again if we don’t prepare ourselves.”

“They are the ones that sunk the Beowulf I?” Darren asked.

Ballantine laughed. “The Beowulf I was never sunk.”

“But you said…?” Darren trailed off.

“Never honest a day in your life, right Ballantine?” Thorne sneered.

“You got me, Commander,” Ballantine shrugged.

“Sound general quarters,” Thorne said to Lake. “Everyone to battle stations.”

“Jesus, Mary, Mother of God,” Lake said.

“Yes, Captain,” Ballantine said, “prayer is a very good idea right now.”

Chapter Four- The Prodigal Is Home

Tank Top was about to depress the button on the handset and hail the Beowulf III when Bokeem cleared his throat.

“What?” Tank Top asked.

“I’m the fucking captain of the Monkey Balls,” Bokeem said. “I get to do the hailing.”

Tank Top looked at the handset and then at the man in the captain’s chair.

“Fuck that,” he grinned as he pressed the button. “Hello, Ballantine! Guess who this is?”

“Those are the first words you are going to say?” Bokeem laughed. “You’ll really have that psychopath quaking in his leather loafers.”

“Hello, Mr. Lodensheim,” Ballantine replied. “It has been a while since we have had the pleasure of conversing, you murderous fucking asshole of a man.”

“Wow,” Tank Top chuckled, “and here I thought you may not remember me. How ya been, you polo shirt wearing fuck nut?”

“Better than average, but less than great,” Ballantine responded. “Is Bokeem with you? How about the rest of the old Berserker team?”

“We dropped that Team Berserker bullshit years ago, Ballantine,” Tank Top said, “and no one calls me Lodensheim, you know that.”

“They don’t? What do they call you?” Ballantine asked. “Turncoat? Deceitful cunt? Dead man, if I get my hands on you?”

“You know what my handle is, Ballantine, so say it,” Tank Top said then whispered to Bokeem. “He’s always hated my name.”

“Tank Top,” Ballantine sighed. “It’s not a name so much as a description.”

“All good nicknames are,” Tank Top said, “and to answer your earlier question, yes, Bokeem is here. He’s the captain of the Monkey Balls, in fact.”

“Bokeem is?” Ballantine asked. “Well, that’s a surprise. Tell him congratulations for me. The man is a better leader than you could ever be. Not that any of you are worth a shit.”

“I hear your hate, Ballantine, but I think it masks your true feelings,” Tank Top said. “You know you love us. We’re your first born, your first Team.”

“One that should have been aborted,” Ballantine said.

“You tried, but it didn’t take,” Tank Top replied. “Abortion aborted.”

“Get to the point,” Bokeem said. “We have a schedule to keep if we want to avoid the abomination coming behind us.”

“Bokeem has already reminded me that we’re on the clock today, Ballantine,” Tank Top said. “We’re steaming to you and plan on boarding without incident. You make this easy for us and we spare the crew.”

“That’s a worthless lie, if I ever heard one,” Ballantine said. “You’ll butcher us all, just like before.”

“I didn’t butcher all of you, now did I?” Tank Top said. “You’re still breathing, unfortunately. Those weapons nerds are still breathing, even though you sent that loser Carlos to try to trap and blow us up. I count his escape as one of my greatest failures as a soldier of fortune.”

“That’s what you call yourself? A soldier of fortune?” Ballantine laughed. “That’s like a fresh turd calling itself a diamond.”

“You are just full of insults today,” Tank Top exclaimed. “Certainly not the polished gentleman I remember from before. I guess living with those SEAL pussies has rubbed off on you.”

“You’d be a fool to consider my new Team pussies, Lodensheim,” Ballantine said.

“Tank Top,” Tank Top insisted.

“
Jason
,
” Ballantine mocked.

“Whatever,” Tank Top shrugged. “Hey, is Darby still with you?”

Ballantine didn’t respond.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Tank Top smirked. “She ever tell you that we fucked on your desk? You know that sweet dark mahogany number you had in your office? Yeah, all over that. Man, we slicked the top of that thing up so much you could see the reflection of our asses as we went at it. That Darby sure gets wet when she’s excited.”

“It would be wise to close your mouth now, Jason,” Ballantine whispered. “It would be very wise.”

“She there by your side as always?” Tank Top asked. “Put her on, if she is. I’d love to reminisce about old times. Hell, if she’s nice, I’ll even let her fuck me on that desk again. Yep, I still have it. I left your office exactly the same. I go in there for a morale boost when I’m feeling down. Beating you and taking your ship was one of the high points of my career.”

“I have a new ship, Jason,” Ballantine said, “and it can blow yours out of the water.”

“Maybe,” Tank Top replied, “but, I doubt it can blow the Mexican destroyers out of the water. At least not before they unload every missile they have on you.”

“If that was the plan, Jason, then they would have done it by now,” Ballantine said. “So that means you need at least one person from this ship alive. Which person is it? Is it me?”

“Oh, there’s that ego I’ve missed so much!” Tank Top exclaimed. “You just can’t believe that someone else might be more important to our employers than you.”

“Who?” Ballantine pressed.

“Okay, full disclosure, yes, we need you alive,” Tank Top admitted. “We also need the Thorne twat and her daddy. If we get all three of you, then your crew and the ship can go free. Scout’s honor.”

“You have no honor and I’m fairly certain you were never a Boy Scout,” Ballantine said.

“Not true, not true,” Tank Top said, “I was. I even got the cock up the anus by a troupe leader badge. Probably why I have issues with authority and lack any sense of rage control. I’m deeply scarred.”

“No shit,” Bokeem laughed.

“Bokeem agrees with my self-diagnosis,” Tank Top continued. “His input has saved me thousands of dollars in therapy fees.”

“I can understand why the company wants me, but why would they want the Thornes?” Ballantine asked.

“Who said anything about the company wanting the Thornes?” Tank Top asked.

***

The smell of oil and grease permeated the water, despite there not being any ships within fifty miles of the creature. It was an offensive smell, but one that drove the shark towards its target.

Not that it needed the smells to hone in on its prey. Even from its far off distance, the shark knew how many ships were in the ocean ahead, their sizes, their weights, and even the amount of people that made up their individual crews. The monster was a feat of science and engineering that transcended almost all breakthroughs during the past century.

It was a killing machine of impossible size with an intellectual capacity that one of its long dead species should never have been capable of. It could reason, plot, plan, and out maneuver most humans, and it perfectly intended to once it caught up with its target, even if it had to destroy the other ships that its mind quickly realized were its competition, not its allies.

***

“We are not fucking around here!” Thorne shouted. “You are getting in the fucking water with Team Grendel!”

“That’s stupid,” Kinsey snapped as the two Thornes hurried down the passageway to Gunnar’s lab. “As soon as they realize I’m not on board, they’ll start torturing or shooting crewmembers.”

“That’s why I’m staying behind,” Thorne said, skidding to a stop as he entered Gunnar’s lab. “What the fuck is she doing in here?”

Everyone looked at Ingrid who was busy working on Mike’s left prosthetic with Dr. Morganton, as the man lay back on a lab table.

“I needed her assistance,” Dr. Morganton said as she stepped away from the lab table and approached Thorne with her hands out in a pacifying gesture. “I couldn’t disengage the tracker without frying out the main junction of the leg’s brain.”

Thorne was less than pacified.

“Legs don’t fucking have brains” he yelled, “and she is an admitted traitor! Get her back in the fucking brig right now!”

“Daddy, I think-” Kinsey began.

“Not one more word from anyone!” Thorne roared. “Ballantine and I have given orders and we expect them to be carried out! The life of everyone onboard depends on the chain of command right now!”

“Chill, Vinny,” Gunnar said as he stepped up next to Dr. Morganton. “We need Mike in the fight. We also need to get the tracker off this ship. The shark is zeroed in on it and that means it’s zeroed in on the B3.”

“What the fuck do you mean it’s zeroed in on it?” Thorne asked. “I thought it had been disabled.”

“It has,” Carlos said, “for the most part. There is a sub-frequency signal still transmitting from the device. I can’t figure it out, Moshi can’t figure it out, and Ingrid didn’t know it was capable of transmitting that kind of signal. Technically, it’s a theoretical signal and nothing should be able to transmit using a sub-frequency like that. As annoying as it is, it is fascinating to see it in action.”

“You know what’s fascinating to see in action?” Thorne growled. “My boot-”

“Up our asses,” Gunnar and Kinsey said in unison.

“Let it go, Daddy,” Kinsey said, “and let it go that I’m getting off this ship.”

“Darby is already suited up, so are the boys and Darren,” Thorne said. “You are going with Grendel and you are going to help take these ships down before they surround us.”

“I’m on that list,” Mike said, looking at Ingrid, “right?”

“If everyone will please be quiet so I can work on this,” Ingrid said. “Then yes, you will be able to suit up as well.”

“I’ll be below getting ready,” Kinsey said as she turned her attention to Carlos. “Gear all ready for me?”

“Suit, mustache, and channel guns,” Carlos nodded. “Checked and ready.”

“Good,” Kinsey smiled. “Thanks.”

She kissed her father on the cheek and took off out of the lab. Thorne started to follow, but a cry from Ingrid made him turn his attention back to the lab table.

Ingrid was holding her hand to her chest as a small square of metal shivered on a tray next to the table. Small blue sparks emanated from the square as tendrils of smoke wafted away from it.

“What the hell was that?” Mike asked as he flexed his leg.

“Stop that,” Carlos grumbled. He took over Ingrid and checked Mike’s leg for damage. “Systems are in the green. I’m closing it up. You’re ready for duty.”

“The thing bit me,” Ingrid said.

“Bit you?” Gunnar asked.

“Well, it shocked me,” Ingrid said. “I don’t think it wanted to be pulled free.”

“Who would?” Mike smiled as he looked to Carlos for the okay to start flexing his leg again. He got the nod and eased himself off the table. “I’m a sexy hunk of SEAL. No one wants to leave this bod.”

“Careful there, stud,” Gunnar said, “that ego isn’t very sexy.”

The square sparked more, then began to bounce up and down on the tray. Moshi pushed past everyone and looked at the wiggling hunk of tech. She glanced around the lab then hurried over to a counter and grabbed a pair of rubber gloves. When she got back to the tray, she carefully picked up the tracker then smiled as she met everyone’s eyes.

“I’m not sure what you want, Moshi,” Ingrid said.

The silent woman held out her hands, but not to the techs or the scientists.

“What the hell would I want with that thing?” Thorne asked.

Moshi smiled and looked around the lab then back at the commander.

“Someone help me here,” Thorne said.

“Duh,” Carlos said as he slapped his forehead. “She’s right. We can use this against them. The shark is tracking this device, not this ship.”

Thorne got it immediately then.

“Get me some gloves,” he said. “I have to get this down to Grendel.”

***

“Incoming Zodiac,” Lake said over the com as Lucy laid prone in the crow’s nest, her .50 cal rifle tucked against her shoulder. “You got it, Lucy?”

“I got it,” Lucy said.

Lucy watched through her scope as the Zodiac bounced across the waves towards the B3. Three men were in the Zodiac and all of them heavily armed. The one that rode at the fore of the raft wore a pair of khaki shorts and a black tank top; Lucy guessed he was the leader that Ballantine had told her to watch for.

The other two men were both large, muscled, and armed with M4s that looked heavily modified. Lucy doubted that the men would be easy to take down once they were on the B3 and her finger itched to fire as it rested next to her trigger guard. She could take all three men out in less than three seconds, but Ballantine had said to hold her fire unless she was fired on.

She turned her scope from the Zodiac and lifted it towards the shop that was steaming closer by the second. Monkey Balls. She laughed at the name, but the laugh caught in her throat as she saw that she wasn’t the only one playing sniper.

“Lake? We have three shooters with eyes on us,” Lucy said as she studied one man in the Monkey Balls’ crow’s nest, then one on the observation deck and another standing on the bow. The one on the bow waved to her as he waggled his .300 Win Mag back and forth. She glanced at the other two and they were doing the same thing. “The shooters are smart asses.”

“That isn’t good,” Lake said. “Smart ass shooters tend to hit what they aim for.”