Mega: A Deep Sea Thriller (Mega Series Book 1) Page 18

  “No, we don’t,” Thorne said. “Understand this, pilot. Darren is Captain, and that is all. He isn’t Team Grendel. I lead this Team. And that’s all that matters. You don’t want to be a part of this Team? Fine, you can be a chop jock. We’ll use you when it’s time to fly. Other than that, you can sit on your thumbs.”

  “Darren’s an ex-SEAL,” Bobby said, “he knows what he’s doing.”

  “No, he doesn’t,” Kinsey said, “no more than I did.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?” Bobby asked.

  “The way he looked at that carcass,” Shane said, “Junkie.”

  “Junkie,” Max nodded.

  “Yep,” Kinsey said. “Same look in his eye. I know that look well. He found his fix and he was willing to sacrifice everyone for it.”

  “Bullshit!” Bobby snapped. “He is not some junked out whore like you!”

  Thorne slammed his hands on the table, his eyes red with anger.

  “Pull your head out of your twat!” Thorne shouted. “And stop fighting this! Your boyfriend is in it. He is deep in it. I don’t give two tons of fuck if he’s shooting heroin or jonesing for his whale discovery, he’s in it. And that means his thinking is compromised.”

  He rubbed his face and suddenly looked ten years older.

  “Which is why we are here,” Thorne said. “Did you think we were just along to save some random hostages now and then? Did you think those company people out there were here for that only? Think. Think! Ballantine had to have us here to handle security or he wouldn’t have gotten the funds for this ship.

  “He knew Darren wouldn’t be able to think straight once he had sight of his precious whale. How did he know? Because he can’t think straight when it comes to his shark. Two obsessive personalities in a pod.”

  “So we’re babysitters?” Max asked. “For the science junkies?”

  “What about Gunnar?” Shane asked. “Do we need to watch him?”

  “Gunnar doesn’t call the shots,” Kinsey replied. “He can get as lost in the science as he wants.”

  “Just like we have to get lost in the security of this crew and this ship,” Thorne said. “From now on, no one makes a move without clearing it with me. And you all will back me up on that. No more dead.”

  “But---” Bobby started to protest then stopped. She saw the looks on everyone’s face, even Lucy’s. “Okay. You’re right.”

  Thorne got nods from everyone seated at the table. He nodded in return.

  “Now, let’s go see what the fuck this was all for,” he said, “and don’t cut them any slack. Darren or Ballantine. They say something stupid, then let them have it. If we have to punch some perspective in their heads, then we will.”

  Chapter Seven: Discoveries

  The top half of Bach’s torso was wrapped in linen and sent overboard as the entire crew stood on deck and saluted towards the sun setting on the horizon. Darren stood by the rail and turned to address them all.

  “It was my fault,” Darren said, “I know that. No one has to remind me of that.” He looked at the steel gaze of Thorne. “I lost sight and Bach paid the price. It won’t happen again.”

  “Said that a few times,” Kinsey whispered.

  “Shhh,” Gunnar said at her side, “not the time.”

  “Sorry,” Kinsey said as a few crewmembers glanced at her.

  “I have had a long talk with our Chief Security Officer,” Darren said, “and starting tomorrow, we will be running drills and putting protocols into place for new events.”

  “But we have the whale?” Popeye said. “Why bother?”

  “We’ll discuss that tomorrow,” Darren said, “right now, I just want you to know I am making a promise that what happened to Bach, won’t happen to you. I won’t fail you again. His death will forever be a reminder to me that some things aren’t worth the price that can be paid.”

  A barely perceptible huff came from the back of the crowd and Kinsey looked over her shoulder at where Ballantine stood. The slight smirk he had on his face disappeared as he saw her looking at him. He nodded to her, but she didn’t nod in return, just turned back to look at Darren.

  “And so that Bach’s death isn’t a waste,” Darren said, “you’ll be getting new assignments to be handed out by Gunnar. We have a lot of dead meat and no way to get it below deck into the freezers and coolers without some labor. If you aren’t on regular duty or training with Team Grendel, then you’ll be handling a saw and a hook so we can dissect these animals as fast as possible before they rot completely.”

  “Oh, dude,” Cougher said, “that’s gonna suck.”

  “Better than being dead,” Jennings said, “don’t ya think?”

  “Yeah,” Cougher replied quietly.

  “Unfortunately,” Darren said, “that means we start tonight. We’ll light up the bodies so Gunnar can begin his work. I’ll assign a crew of five to him so that he has plenty of hands to help. You do as he says when he says it. We need to get as much information from these bodies as we can. For Bach.”

  The crew all nodded.

  “Get some chow first,” Beau said, “Galley line is up and ready. I’ll have chow going all night for the crews.”

  “Thanks, Beau,” Darren nodded. He looked each person in the face, “Dismissed.”

  ***

  “That ain’t gonna study itself,” Jennings said as he set a tray of chow down next to Kinsey. He nodded at the manual open in front of her and then followed her gaze. “He’s not all that, you know.”

  “Huh? What?” Kinsey asked, looking away from where Darren and Bobby sat in a corner of the mess. “Who’s not studying what?”

  “Nice,” Jennings smiled as he jammed a forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. “What the hell did he do to you?”

  “Who? Darren?” Kinsey said. “Nothing. Just divorced me.”

  “Hmmm,” Jennings said as he took another bite.

  “Hmmm, what?” Kinsey asked. “What the fuck does that mean?”

  Jennings held up a hand in defense. “Not trying to start a fight,” he replied after swallowing, “it’s just that the captain has a different story.”

  “I bet he does,” Kinsey laughed. “Let me guess, the way he tells it, I left him without any warning, right? He came home and I had packed up all my shit and was gone.”

  “Something like that,” Jennings nodded. “Not how it happened?”

  “Oh, I packed all my shit and was gone when he got back from his last deployment,” Kinsey said, “but he shouldn’t have been surprised. I’d quit the Marines for his ass. I could have signed back up, but decided it would be better for the both of us if I didn’t. We’d been in the military our entire marriage. It was time for us, as far as I was concerned. You know what he did?”

  “What?” Jennings asked, smiling.

  Kinsey wasn’t sure if she liked the smile, but she kept talking. “He re-enlisted. Didn’t say a word to me. Just re-upped and that was that. I got the message. His priority was the SEALs and the Team. Not our marriage. I had almost left him once before when he started BUD/S and joined the SEALs. He pissed away his second chance.”

  “Then he left the SEALs for a whale,” Jennings said, “that must hurt, knowing that he didn’t leave them for you, but for a giant fucking dolphin.”

  “There’s giant dolphins?” Lucy asked as she sat down with them. “Great. Just what we need.”

  “Nah, I was just exaggerating,” Jennings said. “So when did that happen?”

  “What?” Lucy asked, then saw Darren and Bobby. “Oh, that. Last year sometime. You didn’t know about it?”

  “None of us did,” Jennings said.

  “You didn’t?” Kinsey asked, surprised.

  “Nope.”

  “They were both at some marine biology symposium,” Lucy said, “Bobby was looking for research vessels that needed a helo pilot. Darren was looking for more funding. They found each other instead.”

  “Don’t make me puke,” Kinsey said.
<
br />   “She’s a nice woman,” Lucy responded. “I’ve known her for a decade. Worked with her for almost that long. You two would get along.”

  “Don’t see that happening,” Jennings smirked.

  “Me neither,” Kinsey said and turned her focus to the manual in front of her.

  “What’s that for?” Lucy said.

  “Darby wants me to train on the Wiglaf,” Kinsey said.

  “God, I hate that name,” Jennings said. “What the fuck is a Wiglaf?”

  “One of the guys that fought with Beowulf,” Shane said as he joined them.

  “Great, it’s a party,” Kinsey said, slamming the manual closed and standing up. “Enjoy your slop. I’m going to my quarters.”

  She stepped from the table and hurried out of the mess.

  “What the fuck did I say?” Shane said.

  Jennings pushed his tray to the side and got up to follow Kinsey.

  “Seriously?” Shane called after him.

  “Hey,” Lucy said, “great shooting today.”

  “Thanks,” Shane said, “you too.”

  “You guys seen my wife?” Max asked as he walked by.

  “I think she’s on deck with Ballantine,” Shane said.

  “You really should stop calling her that,” Lucy said, “it pisses her off.”

  “Did she say that?” Max asked.

  “No,” Lucy said, “she doesn’t have to.”

  “Whatever,” Max shrugged.

  ***

  “Hey,” Jennings called out, “Thorne!”

  Kinsey turned around and frowned. “Thorne is my dad. Call me Kinsey or call me nothing.”

  “Well, Nothing,” Jennings smiled, looking at the manual tucked under Kinsey’s arm. “You want some help with that.”

  “Funny,” Kinsey said, “you know how to work the Wiglaf?”

  “I do and so does Lake,” Jennings said. “We learned as soon as we came aboard. Darren does because of SEAL training and shit, but I don’t think he’s taken it out for a spin yet. You want to?”

  “I’ve been,” Kinsey said.

  “Right,” Jennings nodded. “To catch a dead fish. How about without the trauma and pressure? Just you, me, and the deep blue sea.”

  “At night? It’ll be dark.”

  “It’s always dark down below,” Jennings shrugged. “So…you game?”

  Kinsey watched him for a second and cocked her head. “Are you trying to pick me up?”

  “Yes,” Jennings said, “nothing sexier than a cramped mini-sub. Come on. That manual will put you to sleep. Come out with me and I’ll have you proficient with every inch of that machine before you know it.”

  Kinsey watched him. She studied the way he held himself, how he stood with one leg bent, his arms folded across his chest, his muscles pressed against his t-shirt. He wasn’t anything special, just a guy with a receding hairline, but he had style. He smirked at her the entire time until she met his eyes.

  “Done?” Jennings asked. “Need me to turn around? Do a little spin for ya?”

  “What? No. Shut up.”

  “Then…?”

  “Sure, fine, let’s go,” Kinsey said, “what’ll it hurt?”

  “I like the enthusiasm,” Jennings said.

  They stepped topside and the night air felt incredible after the stifling stuffiness of the mess below deck. The darkness was beaten back by row after row of blazing Klieg lights aimed at the dead whale and the dead shark. Gunnar was busy shouting orders as men hurried about.

  “Damn,” Jennings said, “that thing just won’t stop stinking.”

  “It’ll get worse the deeper I cut,” Gunnar said, his clothes covered in gunk. “And I still have a lot of cutting to do.” He looked from Jennings to Kinsey and back, then raised an eyebrow.

  “Shut up,” Kinsey said, “he’s going to show me how to really operate the mini-sub.”

  “I didn’t say a word,” Gunnar said. “But don’t be gone too long. You’re on next shift.”

  “What? When did that happen?” Kinsey asked.

  “When I put your name on the next shift list,” Thorne said as he walked up to them. “You and Max are security.”

  “Security? For what?” Kinsey asked.

  “For whatever,” Thorne said. “Where are you going?”

  “Mini-sub training,” Jennings said. “I’ve gotten pretty good with it so I said I’d help her study.”

  “Right,” Thorne nodded. “Darby said she wanted you to be the other trained pilot on the Team. Didn’t know you were so gung ho about it.”

  “Ex-Marine,” Kinsey shrugged, “I’m gung ho about everything.”

  “I know,” Thorne said.

  “What does that mean?” Kinsey asked.

  “Nothing,” Thorne replied, “don’t be late for your shift.”

  Kinsey watched her father walk away then turned to Jennings. “Let’s get this done. I guess I have to work next shift.”

  “After you,” he said, motioning towards the Wiglaf.

  “I should have some interesting findings when you get back,” Gunnar said, “I’ll tell you all about them during your shift.”

  “Looking forward to it, Gun,” Kinsey said.

  “Sure you are,” Gunnar said quietly as Jennings and Kinsey got into the mini-sub.

  Popeye worked the arms and lowered the Wiglaf into the dark water. Once Jennings had the motors going, he gave the all clear over the com and Popeye released the mini-sub, letting it speed down into the deep.

  “I’ll take us a good distance so you have room to move around,” Jennings said.

  “So I don’t crash us into the ship?” Kinsey asked as she tucked the manual back into its slot.

  “Yep,” Jennings said.

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “Anytime.”

  They were quiet during the few minutes Jennings took them down and away from the Beowulf II. Kinsey studied his movements and the adjustments he made as the mini-sub descended. It wasn’t hard at all; easier than some of the video games she played on her PS3 back home. Or did before she hawked it for dope money.

  “You going to let me drive?” Kinsey asked after they’d been down below for at least fifteen minutes.

  “Sure,” Jennings said, getting up from the pilot’s seat and squeezing past Kinsey. The mini-sub technically could fit four, but that was cheek to cheek, knee to knee. It was barely comfortable for two. “All yours.”

  Kinsey sat down and put her hands on the controls. She understood the basics and turned the mini-sub to port, angling it deeper.

  “Not too much,” Jennings said, “this baby is electric. No diesel engines to pull us out of a sharp dive. No more than twenty-five degrees.”

  “Got it,” Kinsey said, getting a feel for the way the Wiglaf responded. “Don’t kill us.”

  “Yep,” Jennings said.

  “Anything I should be watching for?” Kinsey asked as she leveled out the mini-sub.

  “Fish,” Jennings said, “don’t hit any fish. It’s a bitch to get the guts off the windshield.”

  Kinsey smiled as she looked out the thick plastic window in front of her. It revealed nothing but the dark. “Where’re the lights?”

  “I was waiting for you to ask,” Jennings said. “I’ve gotten good at piloting by instruments.”

  He reached past her and flicked two switches. As he pulled back, their cheeks brushed and he gave her a sly smile.

  “Training,” Kinsey said, “that’s what we’re here for.”

  “What? I didn’t do anything,” Jennings said. “It gets cramped in here. Not my fault I touched you and got cooties all over my face.”

  “Cooties from me?” Kinsey said. “You’re the sailor. I don’t even want to know what cooties you’ve picked up from port to port.”

  “Clean as a whistle,” Jennings said. “My dad died of syphilis, so I pay attention.”

  “Jesus. Really?” Kinsey asked.

  “That’s what my mom said
,” Jennings replied. “I don’t know for sure since I never met the guy.”

  “Damn, aren’t you just the classic sea going story,” Kinsey said. “Two hundred years ago and there’d be one-eyed pirates and treasure chests in that story.”

  “Not buying it?” Jennings smiled.

  “Not a word,” Kinsey said.

  “Okay,” Jennings said, “my mom was a hooker and died of HIV. I always use protection. How’s that?”

  Kinsey looked over her shoulder at him and studied his body language.

  “Fuck,” she said finally, “your mom was a hooker.”

  “And died of HIV,” Jennings said. “She worked the Long Beach pier. When she died, I had no place to go so I hopped on the first freighter that would take me.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Thirteen,” Jennings said.

  “Christ.”

  “No need for one-eyed pirates or treasure,” Jennings said. “I’ve had plenty of fucking adventure without them.”

  “I bet,” Kinsey said.

  “What about you?” Jennings asked then pointed. “See that! Damn, I love it when they school.”

  A group of iridescent fish swam past the mini-sub, taking up the entire view out the small window.

  “Look here,” Jennings said, pointing to the sonar, “this thing cost a million dollars, but can’t pick up a school of fish if it’s too close.”

  “Serious flaw,’ Kinsey said, “but it’ll pick up something bigger, right?”

  “Until it gets right on us,” Jennings said. “If it’s closer than a meter, we won’t see it. Unless we actually see it.”

  “Huh,” Kinsey said. “Good to know.”

  “So?” Jennings asked.

  “So what?”

  “What about you? What’s your story? With a daddy like that, you have to have a story.”

  “Everybody has a story,” Kinsey replied.

  “Yeah, but not everyone’s story has a SEAL for a dad,” Jennings replied, “spill it.”

  “I barely know you,” Kinsey said, “I’m not spilling my life story.”

  “Come on,” Jennings protested, “I just told you that my mom was a whore and died from AIDS.”