Mega: A Deep Sea Thriller (Mega Series Book 1) Page 15

  “Uh-oh,” Gunnar said, “what did I miss?”

  “Just daddy/daughter stuff,” Kinsey smiled. She saw the small black case in Gunnar’s hand and frowned. “You think I need that? The op is over. I can probably detox like a normal addict now.”

  “Unfortunately, that isn’t true,” Gunnar replied as he stepped inside and closed the hatch behind him. “While my formula helps diminish and mask the withdrawal side effects, it doesn’t mean you aren’t still addicted. I stop this, without a proper weaning process, and your symptoms will be ten times worse than if you had just quit cold turkey.”

  “You forgot to tell me that part,” Kinsey said as she sat on her bunk and offered Gunnar her arm.

  “Would it have made a difference in your decision?” Gunnar smiled as he swabbed the injection point, and then tied a rubber tube around her upper arm.

  “No,” Kinsey admitted, “I’d have agreed anyway.”

  “Exactly,” Gunnar said, “and then there’s the fact you may not have come back from the op. No need to wean then.”

  “Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence,” Kinsey laughed.

  “Any time,” he grinned.

  Gunnar prepared the syringe and injected Kinsey. Instantly, she started to feel more relaxed, like a weight from her shoulders, veil from her eyes, and fog in her brain were all lifted at the same time.

  “Oooh, that’s the stuff,” she sighed, suddenly even more tired than before. “Do I have to wean off this shit?”

  “Uh, yeah,” Gunnar said as he untied Kinsey’s arm, “especially when you respond like that. Tonight’s dose was slightly less than this morning’s. We’ll keep doing this until I am certain you are clear.”

  “Really?” Kinsey asked. “For how long?”

  “A week, maybe two,” Gunnar said, “hard to tell. I’ll monitor your reactions as I lessen the dose. As long as you don’t show withdrawal symptoms, then I’ll know we’re on the right track.”

  “Oh, you hit the right track,” Kinsey said, yawning as she slapped the inside of her arm with two fingers. She yawned again and had a hard time keeping her eyes open. “Damn. I need to shower, but I don’t think I’ll make it.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Gunnar said. “Get some sleep. You can shower when you wake up. It’s a brand new day for everyone on this ship.”

  “Hey, Gun?” Kinsey asked sleepily as she pulled the covers back on her bunk. “Why weren’t you in the briefing room tonight? You are Chief Science Officer. Shouldn’t you have been in there?”

  “I wasn’t invited,” Gunnar said. “Mr. Ballantine likes to keep his cards close to his chest. He hasn’t quite figured out what to do with me yet. Darren is Captain and could put together an extraction Team. I, on the other hand, am just the gay Science and Medical Officer. And I have been studying whales with Darren for years. Mr. Ballantine isn’t exactly looking for whales.”

  “What is he looking for?” Kinsey asked, her voice sleepy and her eyelids very heavy.

  “I’m not sure,” Gunnar replied, “but we’ll know soon. I ran into Darren and he was bordering on excitement and fear. Whatever it is Ballantine is cooking up, it won’t be boring, I can say that.”

  “Good,” Kinsey replied, “I hate…boring…”

  Her breathing slowed, and in seconds, she was snoring. Gunnar smiled and turned out the light before closing the hatch and leaving her to her dreams.

  Chapter Six: A Different Kettle Of Fish

  Team Grendel, the representatives from the company, and Darren’s original crew all sat in the large conference room below deck and stared at the video screen, as Mr. Ballantine stood before them, a laser pointer outlining a shadow on the screen.

  “Right there,” Mr. Ballantine said, “this is why we needed the hard drives. I wanted the original raw footage so it could be enhanced and filtered.”

  “You’re saying that’s a shark?” Cougher asked. “Not a whale?”

  “Not a whale, Mr. Colfer,” Mr. Ballantine replied, “and yes, it is a shark.”

  “Ballantine,” Mr. Perry said, “this is highly irregular. A prehistoric whale is one thing; that can be spun into all kinds of goodwill and feel good press for the company and our clients, if needed. What a discovery. But this? It’s Jaws nonsense.”

  “Yeah, how’d that work out?” Max whispered to his brother.

  “I understand your reluctance, Mr. Perry,” Mr. Ballantine said, “but science isn’t always about goodwill or feel good press. Sometimes it’s about facing fear and looking into the abyss. Then when something looks back, you punch it in the face.”

  “Can’t argue with that,” Shane said.

  “Shut it,” Thorne snapped.

  “I would almost say the same thing to Mr. Ballantine,” Ms. Horace said. “You are jeopardizing your career here. I agree with Mr. Perry that a whale is one thing, but a shark is completely different.”

  “How is this even a conversation?” Kinsey asked, looking over at Gunnar. “Come on, Gun, a prehistoric whale? A prehistoric shark?”

  “We don’t know if either are prehistoric,” Gunnar replied. “They could be entirely new species. As for the whale, I’d like to find out, that’s why I’m here.” He looked over at Darren who was sitting close to the head of the table. “But a shark? One that can go after our whale? That’s not something we’re prepared for.”

  “On the contrary, Doctor,” Mr. Ballantine responded. “The Beowulf II is completely prepared. Double hull, the Wyrm, the Wiglaf---”

  “Wiglaf?” Mr. Longbottom asked. “What is that?”

  “The mini-sub,” Bobby said.

  “Oh.”

  “If I may continue? Thank you,” Mr. Ballantine said. “The Beowulf II is prepared. I have all the current research ready for you below, Doctor. Everything I’ve compiled over the years. You’ll know everything I do.”

  “Why?” Lake asked. “Why chase some monster shark that may or may not exist?”

  “It exists,” Mr. Ballantine said, “trust me.”

  “And that’s where I have a problem,” Lake said, “I don’t trust you. I trust Captain Chambers, and he seems to trust you. That’s why I signed on. But if you’d told me back in Cape Town we’d be chasing some imaginary shark, then I would have laughed and walked away.”

  A few of the other crew members nodded in agreement.

  “How is this creature more imaginary than the whale you were chasing?” Mr. Ballantine asked.

  “Because Darren saw the whale,” Gunnar said, “and Darren wouldn’t lie about something as important as that.”

  Kinsey snorted then frowned at the looks she got.

  “Whales, sharks, I could give a fuck,” Thorne said. “I was hired to put together an extraction Team. I did that. But if you are chasing sea monsters, then why am I still here?”

  “Security, Commander Thorne,” Mr. Ballantine said. “These are dangerous waters. A ship like the Beowulf II would be a prize for pirates. It looks expensive because it is. Pirates would love to get their hands on this ship as well as the crew and all of you. They see us and all they see are dollar signs streaming by.”

  “So we’re here to babysit while you play mad explorer?” Thorne asked, folding his arms across his chest. Kinsey smiled at that, knowing her father was getting ready for a fight.

  “If we get an assignment from the company, then we drop the research and do our jobs,” Darren said. “That’s why we are being funded. We’ve proven we can go in and do a job. We’ll just use our ‘down time’ to continue my research.” He smiled weakly and looked at the screen. “And Mr. Ballantine’s research also.”

  “When did you first see it?” Kinsey asked.

  “On the Beowulf I,” Mr. Ballantine said. “I had just hired Darby. She saw it also.”

  Darby nodded.

  “So…what happened to the Beowulf I?” Max asked.

  “Yes, Mr. Ballantine,” Mr. Longbottom asked, “I would like to know that as well. The company has the file sealed, even from
me.”

  “Me as well,” Ms. Horace said, “which is highly irregular. I do not like irregular.”

  “They don’t talk about it,” Kinsey said, “might as well stop asking.”

  “I don’t believe we can finance this, Ballantine,” Mr. Perry said as he stood up. “I’ll call for a helicopter to pick us up. We’ll report to the Board; they’ll make the final decision.”

  “Oh, I believe you’ll be persuaded otherwise,” Mr. Ballantine said, “Captain Chambers?”

  “We have been at a steady cruising speed since Team Grendel returned,” Darren said, “and we’ve actually pushed that speed once I had coordinates.”

  “Coordinates?” Ms. Horace asked. “For what? For where?”

  “That,” Darren said as he pointed at the screen. “The raw video was geotagged. We are going to that exact site. We’ll be there in about twelve hours.”

  “Wait a minute,” Mr. Longbottom protested, “you are taking us away from land? Further into the ocean?”

  “Once you see the evidence in person, Mr. Longbottom,” Mr. Ballantine said, “you’ll be a supporter of the entire mission. Seeing is believing. Remember, Team Grendel will save the company’s clients possibly billions of dollars. Any expenses for our scientific endeavors will be minimal compared to the profits made and saved.”

  “This is ridiculous,” Ms. Horace said. She stood up and pulled a phone from a briefcase. “I am calling for a helicopter once I get up on deck and have a clear satellite signal. I will need our exact coordinates, Captain Chambers.”

  “Lake?” Darren said. “Will you get those for Ms. Horace?”

  “Sure thing,” Lake said as he got up and followed Ms. Horace out of the conference room.

  Mr. Ballantine gave the room a smile. “Any other questions?”

  ***

  “You son of a bitch,” Ms. Horace snarled as she stood with Perry, Longbottom, and Ballantine on the upper deck. “All long range company helicopters are in use on other business. The soonest one will be available and in range to get us is in two days.”

  “How unfortunate,” Mr. Ballantine said.

  “Not unfortunate as much as underhanded,” Ms. Horace said. “The business they are being used for was authorized by you, Ballantine. You knew we’d want to leave and shut you down, so you arranged for us to be stuck here.”

  “That’s quite an accusation,” Mr. Ballantine said, “and if it were true, I’d be offended.”

  “Are we the hostages now, Ballantine?” Mr. Perry asked.

  “Stefan, please,” Mr. Ballantine said, “of course not. Two days until the helicopter can get here. Enjoy your time. Relax, soak up some sun. Go for a swim.”

  The three looked out at the water, the looks on their faces not ones of confidence.

  “I’ll stay on the boat,” Mr. Longbottom replied.

  “Good,” Mr. Ballantine said, “we can use these two days to go over projected revenue for Team Grendel. We’ll need to be exact when offering cost quotes to clients.”

  “Drones are online,” Darby said as she walked up to the group.

  “You tasked company drones?” Ms. Horace asked. “Who authorized that?”

  “I did. But only for a short time, as I know how precious they are to the company,” Mr. Ballantine said. “Thank you, Darby. I’ll join you in the command center soon. Please let Captain Chambers and Doctor Peterson know. They’ll want to be present as the drones do a couple runs over the coordinates.”

  “Yes, sir,” Darby said and left.

  “You are a piece of work, Ballantine,” Mr. Perry said.

  “A piece of something,” Ms. Horace said.

  “Now, now, no need for disparaging comments,” Mr. Ballantine said. “If I fail, then yes, you can disparage me all you want. But even if I don’t find what I am looking for, the Beowulf II will be invaluable to the company just because of Grendel.”

  “We’ll see,” Mr. Perry said. “How about we go over those figures starting now? I don’t intend on wasting the company’s funds relaxing, Ballantine.”

  “My pleasure, Stefan,” Mr. Ballantine said, gesturing towards the above deck briefing room. “This way.”

  Max and Shane watched as Ballantine and his colleagues left the deck for the briefing room. They were set up in the top most crow’s nest above the observation deck, their sniper rifles resting on the rail.

  “This is some crazy shit,” Max said. “Not exactly what Uncle Vinny advertised.”

  “Giant sharks as well as Darren’s whale? What the fuck?” Shane said, shaking his head. “Are we in the fucking Twilight Zone?”

  “More like X-Files,” Max said.

  “Bermuda Triangle shit, bro,” Shane said. “How crazy do you think Darren and Ballantine are?”

  “Oh, they’re full on batshit,” Max said, “but that doesn’t mean they’re wrong.”

  “Are you buying this crap?” Shane laughed.

  “Not at all,” Max said, “I’m just not closing my mind to the possibility.” He put his eye to his scope and scanned the ocean, gauging distances between white caps. He squeezed off a shot and watched the spray as the bullet hit the water 800 yards off. “I mean, come on, how awesome would it be to see a fucking whale that isn’t supposed to exist?”

  “It would be awesome,” Shane said, “but I’d rather not come face to face with a fucking giant whale eating shark. That I can do without.”

  “Is this a boys only tree house or can a girl join too?” Lucy called from below, her .50 caliber in hand.

  “Come on up,” Max said, “you looking to kill some waves? Because this is the spot for killing waves. We done kill ‘em dead up here.”

  “Actually,” Lucy said as she climbed up into the crow’s nest with Max and Shane, “I may have mentioned I was probably a better shot than both of you.”

  “Oh, really?” Shane laughed. “You talking to yourself?”

  “Nope,” Lucy smiled as she lay down on her belly and settled the .50, “talking to them.”

  “Okay, everyone!” Bach shouted as a crowd gathered on the deck below. “No bets over fifty! We aren’t trying to break each other, just have a little fun!”

  “My money’s on the smart brother,” Popeye said.

  “Fuck you!” Max shouted down.

  “I was talking about you!” Popeye yelled back.

  “Oh, cool. Thanks!” Max smiled as he looked at his brother. “You’re the dumb one.”

  “That’s like deciding which turd stinks the most,” Lucy said. She squeezed the trigger, killing a wave instantly. It never stood a chance. “Still just two turds.”

  “Nice,” Shane said. He looked down below. “Can we get in on the action?”

  “You bet,” Bach said.

  The three snipers were surprised to see Jennings in a Zodiac speeding well away from the ship. Soon, he started to drop debris into the water so pieces floated out there at different distances. He came zipping back, and with a little help, was up on deck and placing bets with the rest.

  Beau and Cougher stood to the side of the group, each with a spyglass to their eye, and raised a hand into the air.

  “Spotters are ready,” Bach announced, “Snipers, are you ready?”

  “Ready,” Max said.

  “You bet,” Shane said.

  “Born that way,” Lucy said.

  “I am so calling you Lady Gaga from now on,” Max said.

  “You will each get one shot per target,” Bach said. “Ladies first, then Lucy can go.”

  “Oh, God,” Shane laughed, “the jokes! Heeee-larious!”

  “Shane then Max then Lucy,” Bach said. “You can’t take more than thirty seconds to set up your shot. Keep your hands to yourself and no sabotaging the other shooters. We’ll start targets left to right. Shoot, shoot, shoot, then move to the next one. Beau and I will announce a hit or miss. Ready?”

  “Let’s kill some trash!” Shane bellowed. “Die fucking trash! DIE!”

  “I’m just regular ready
,” Max said, “not crazy ready.”

  “Hold on,” Shane said and pulled a joint from his pocket.

  “No way,” Lucy said. “No performance enhancing drugs.”

  “What?” Max asked. “Just some harmless weed.”

  “I’ve heard about you two and weed,” Lucy said, “it’s like Popeye and spinach.”

  ‘What?” Popeye shouted from below.

  “Nothing,” she yelled down, “just fucking shoot.”

  Shane squeezed the trigger and a five gallon plastic bucket spun in the water 500 yards out. Max followed, then Lucy. The bucket sank quickly.

  “Three hits,” Beau said.

  The crowd groaned since there wasn’t a miss.

  “Better hurry,” Bach said, “the current and wind are taking your targets further out.”

  There was a good sized piece of orange foam rubber bobbing in the waves about 900 yards out. Shane took aim and squeezed. Beau and Bach watched a chunk of foam fly into the air. Max hit it also, as did Lucy.

  The crowd began to get bored.

  “I think we’re losing our audience,” Max said.

  “What were they expecting?” Shane said. “For us to do back flips and shoot from the hip?”

  “Let’s move it along,” Lucy said. “Five second rule.”

  “We’re moving it up to five seconds,” Shane announced. “Get this party rolling.”

  The crowd gave a weak cheer and some of them started to walk away.

  “Tough room,” Max said.

  Shane, Max, Lucy. Shane, Max, Lucy. It went that way for several minutes until there remained only one target they hadn’t shot: a beach ball that had drifted at least 1,400 yards out.

  Shane put his scope to his eye, sighted on the target, then began to squeeze the trigger, but stopped. “Do you guys see that?”

  The other two snipers had been watching through their scopes, gauging the target for themselves. Once the ball was punctured, it would sink quickly, so they knew they had to be ready.

  “See what?” Max asked.

  “Wait…I think I see something,” Lucy said. “What is that?”