Mega: A Deep Sea Thriller (Mega Series Book 1) Page 22

  “Disbelief in what?” Thorne asked, moving into the lab, his eyes never leaving Gunnar’s pistol. “What the hell is going on?”

  “Doctor Peterson was explaining how the shark we caught is not a real shark at all,” Mr. Ballantine said. “Does that answer your question or just bring up more?”

  ***

  “Back, back,” Kinsey hissed as she grabbed Jennings by the shoulders and yanked him into an open hatch.

  They both nearly tumbled into the dark room just as a man with a rifle walked past. Kinsey instinctively covered Jennings’s mouth with her hand as she pulled him further into the shadows. The man with the rifle paused at the hatch. He looked into the room, cocked his head and listened, then shrugged and pulled the hatch closed, plunging them into pitch blackness.

  Kinsey waited a couple minutes, and then took her hand away from Jennings’s mouth.

  “You almost suffocated me,” Jennings said. “I know how to be fucking quiet.”

  “Neither of you do,” a voice said from across the room. “Your whispers carry across the whole damn ship.”

  “What the fuck?” Jennings jumped.

  “Darby?” Kinsey asked. “How the hell did you get here?”

  “Good ears, Kinsey,” Darby said. “I came with Shane to find you two.”

  “Shane’s here?” Kinsey asked. “Hey, cuz.”

  “He’s not here with me,” Darby replied, “he was captured. I wasn’t. Now I have to rescue him as well as you two.”

  “We don’t need rescuing,” Jennings said. “Do we?”

  “No,” Kinsey replied, “but now plans change. We were going to sabotage the engines. I guess we should rescue my cousin first.”

  “That would be a good idea,” Darby said, “since I’m certain he’s being tortured for information. And sabotaging the engines would be a bad idea since this ship is heading for the Beowulf II as we speak. No point in wrecking our ride.”

  ***

  “Clones?” Thorne asked. “Is this a joke?”

  “In a twisted way, Commander, yes,” Mr. Ballantine said, “because the clone shouldn’t exist. There were never meant to be duplicates. Just the one.”

  “Why?” Thorne asked.

  “Did you find him?” Lake asked over the com.

  “Hold on, Chief,” Thorne replied, “I found him, but I have a situation on my hands right now.”

  “Who are you talking to?” Gunnar asked.

  “Lake,” Thorne replied, “he needs to talk to you. Something about the company helicopter landing on your whale body.”

  “IT WHAT?” Gunnar shouted. He started to move towards the hatch, looked at the gun in his hand, and then looked at Ballantine.

  “Go ahead,” Thorne said, “I’ll keep an eye on Ballantine until you get back. Maybe he can catch me up on what I’ve missed.”

  “Oh, I’d prefer to go with Doctor Peterson,” Mr. Ballantine said. “I should probably speak to the pilot. And my colleagues who must be itching to leave this ship as soon as possible.”

  “Give me that,” Thorne said as he took the pistol from Gunnar. “Get up there and see what’s going on.”

  Gunnar looked at Thorne then back at Ballantine.

  “Go!” Thorne shouted. “Jesus.”

  Gunnar took off running.

  “Are we going to have a problem?” Thorne asked.

  “We never have and never will,” Mr. Ballantine said. “Despite Gunnar’s suspicions, I am fully on your side. Can I explain as we walk?”

  “You fucking better,” Thorne said as he slipped Gunnar’s pistol into his pocket.

  “How trusting,” Mr. Ballantine observed.

  “Just confident,” Thorne replied. “I know you have training, but I have more. It may be a fight if you try something, but it won’t be a long one.”

  “Fair enough,” Mr. Ballantine said. “Let’s see…where do I start?”

  “At the beginning,” Thorne said as he motioned towards the hatch.

  ***

  “And she just leaves him?” Daacad asked, standing up from his chair. “She’s gone?”

  “Gone,” Shane said, “on the run.”

  “What about the sequel?” Daacad asked. “Where does she turn up in that?”

  “There is no sequel,” Shane replied. “That’s one reason I love that movie so much. It stands on its own.”

  “Well,” Daacad said as he moved up close to Shane, the ice pick ever twirling, “then it is time for my question.”

  “I could tell you about my second favorite movie?” Shane said.

  “And what is that?” Daacad asked.

  “Ghostbusters,” Shane said. “You ever see Ghostbusters?”

  “Everyone has seen that movie,” Daacad said, “and you are out of time to talk movies. Now I ask my question.”

  Daacad got right up next to Shane and pressed the tip of the ice pick close to Shane’s left eye. Shane started to struggle, to swing himself away, but Daacad grabbed him by the throat and held him still.

  “Ready for my question?” Daacad asked.

  “No,” Shane admitted, “can I take a rain check?”

  “No,” Daacad replied. “My question is: do you ever want to see a movie again? Answer honestly, please, Mr. Montoya.”

  “Ha. Funny,” Shane said, “and yes, I do want to see another movie. I’d like to see lots of movies.”

  “Then you will answer every new question I ask from now on,” Daacad said. “Understand me? You will answer truthfully and without hesitation. Or no more movies for you.”

  Daacad slid the ice pick into Shane’s eye slowly. Blood and fluid spurted from the orb and onto Daacad’s hand. The scream that came from Shane’s mouth was ear splitting.

  “Stay still,” Daacad said as he pushed the ice pick in further, “or I may slip and hit your brain.”

  Shane continued to scream, drowning out the boy that stood at the hatch, calling to Daacad.

  “Sir! Sir!” the boy shouted. “You are needed on the bridge, sir!”

  “What?” Daacad asked, pulling the ice pick from Shane’s eye. “Speak up, boy!”

  “The bridge, sir,” the boy said, his eyes drawn to the bloody mess that used to be Shane’s left eye. “You are needed. We have spotted the other ship.”

  “Very good,” Daacad said, slapping Shane on the cheek. “I will be back so we can talk some more. But first I have to kill your friends.”

  A whimper was all the reply Shane could muster.

  Daacad followed the boy from the room and closed the hatch behind him. As soon as the hatch’s wheel stopped turning, Shane burst out crying. He sobbed and sobbed at the pain and the loss. His eye was gone, he could feel the deflated husk of it stuck inside his socket. His body began to shiver and on some level, he knew shock was going to set in.

  But fear pushed that away when he saw the wheel turn again and the hatch start to open.

  “No,” he begged, “no, please, no.”

  “Shane?” a voice whispered. “Shane?”

  He looked at the hatch with his one good eye and thought he would die right then. Kinsey. There she stood. And with Jennings and Darby.

  “Oh…God,” Kinsey cried as she rushed to her cousin. “Oh, fuck, Shane! What did they do?”

  “What happened to your face?” Jennings asked. “Your eyelid is all fucked up.”

  “They punctured his eye,” Darby said as she watched the hatch while Kinsey and Jennings lowered Shane to the floor. “That’s why his face looks like that. Easy to spot.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Kinsey said, as she cradled her cousin in her arms once his hands were free. He gripped her and pulled himself closer to her as he wept on her chest. “I’ll kill the fuckers.”

  “Me…first,” Shane said as he tried to pull himself together.

  “We have to move,” Darby said. “No time for sympathy or revenge plans.” She looked down at Shane. “Can you walk?”

  “I can,” Shane said. “I almost had them, Darby. A couple more
minutes and they would have spilled it all.”

  Darby smiled and nodded. “I’m sure. We’ll just have to figure out who the traitor is another way.”

  “The what? What did I miss?” Kinsey asked.

  “Tracking device in one of the hard drives we secured,” Darby said, “that’s how the pirates knew where to find us.”

  “And that means someone sold us out? Why?” Jennings asked.

  “Because, why else would they put a tracker in the hard drives?” Darby said. “Unless they knew someone was coming to take them?”

  “We’ll deal with that later,” Kinsey said, “we have to get off this ship first.”

  “You? What are you doing?” a man said from the hatch as he raised his rifle.

  Darby sprang at him, her fists connecting with his face before her feet touched the ground. He stumbled back, but she was able to grab him and pull him into the room. She grabbed both sides of his head and twisted, snapping his neck. His body crumpled to the floor and she started to search him.

  “9mm,” she said, handing it back to Kinsey, “Machete. And the rifle. One extra magazine.” She put the rifle to her shoulder and moved to the hatch. “Let’s go.”

  “Where?” Jennings asked as he helped carry/drag Shane. “They’ll see us if we try to use a lifeboat.”

  “Maybe,” Darby said, “maybe not. They’ll be busy dealing with the Beowulf II in a few minutes. That could be distraction enough.”

  “I still think we should disable the engines,” Kinsey said. “We’re here now. Let’s sink this fucker.”

  “We need to get off first,” Jennings said. “As much as I admire the take one for the Team attitude, I signed up to find a whale with Darren, not die fighting pirates.”

  “But…that’d be a pretty cool way to go,” Shane said, “death by pirate. I wouldn’t mind.”

  “You almost got that wish, man,” Jennings said, “how’d that feel?”

  “Good point,” Shane said.

  “Take him,” Kinsey said. “You get them up top and into a lifeboat. I’ll turn this thing into a floating paperweight.”

  “That’s the best you could come up with?” Shane chuckled weakly. “You’ve gotta hang with Max and me more. We’ll get your wit whipped into shape.”

  “I doubt that,” Darby said. She looked at Kinsey. “Are you sure? You may not make it.”

  “I’m sure,” Kinsey said.

  “Stop,” Jennings said, “this is stupid.”

  “Probably,” Kinsey replied, “but it has to be done.”

  “No, I mean you going is stupid,” he said as he took Shane’s arm from around his shoulders. “Here. Go with your cousin. I told you I worked on a ship like this before. I know where the engine room is and I know how to disable it. I’ll go.”

  “Kinsey has a better chance of getting there,” Darby said, “she would have a fighting chance.”

  “I may not look like much,” Jennings said, “but I can hold my own. You don’t spend a life at sea and not learn how to fucking scrap.”

  The women looked at each other, then Kinsey nodded.

  “Fine, you go,” Darby said and handed him the machete, “this may be useful.”

  “I hope not,” Jennings said, “but thanks.”

  “Good luck,” Kinsey said. She leaned in and kissed him hard. Jennings matched the kiss then pushed her away.

  “Go,” he said. “Get the fuck off this ship.”

  “We’ll wait for you,” Kinsey said.

  “Don’t,” Jennings replied. “I’ll get off the ship on my own. If I have to jump and swim over to the Beowulf II, then I’ll do that.”

  He nodded to them and then turned and ran down the passageway. He rounded a corner and was gone.

  “That was touching,” Shane said.

  “You want to get left here, asshole?” Kinsey asked.

  “No.”

  “Then not another fucking word about it,” Kinsey snarled. “Come on.”

  ***

  “This is all some fucking joke,” Thorne said as he and Ballantine stepped onto the upper deck, “right? This is science fiction shit, not reality. You’re making it all up.”

  “I’m not,” Mr. Ballantine said, “wish I was, but it is very real.”

  “Jesus,” Thorne said.

  “I know,” Mr. Ballantine replied, “it is a lot to swallow.”

  “No, not that,” Thorne said, “that.”

  He pointed at the two men fighting in the whale guts below the helo. Thorne hurried over to where Lake and most of the crew were standing around watching the pilot and Gunnar go at it.

  “No one thought to break them up?” Thorne asked.

  “And get that shit all over us?” Lake said. “No thanks.”

  “Woo hoo!” Max said as he came up on deck, a matte black rifle over his shoulder. “Daddy got a new toy!”

  “Don’t call yourself daddy,” Lucy said as she followed behind with her own rifle.

  The weapons looked like highly modified .50 calibers. Max slapped a magazine home and looked around the deck.

  “Gimme something to shoot!” he laughed.

  “Shit,” Lake said as he looked over at Max and Lucy then past them, “fuck.”

  He sprinted away and up to the bridge. Everyone turned and looked out at what he saw.

  “Huh,” Max said, “guess that snuck up on us.”

  Thorne rubbed his forehead then pointed to the rifles.

  “We need something to take out rockets!” Thorne said. “We need our own rockets and that’s what they gave you?”

  “Smart rounds,” Max said. “Fucking heat seeking cartridges.”

  “The way Ingrid explained it,” Lucy started.

  “Because Carlos is too much of a pompous cocksucker to do the talking,” Max interrupted.

  “The rifle shoots a cartridge instead of a bullet,” Lucy continued. “The cartridge has a microprocessor that senses heat and then fires a bullet at the target. Designed specifically to take out RPGs that have already been launched.”

  “This is all too much Star Trek shit for me,” Thorne said. “Self-directing bullets and cloned fucking sharks. Max, Lucy, get your asses up in the crow’s nest. I want scopes on that ship. You fire when you have to. Don’t hesitate.”

  “You got it, Uncle Vinny,” Max said as he started to hurry off then stopped. “Wait? Cloned sharks?”

  “No time!” Thorne barked. “Go!”

  “Someone really should separate them,” Mr. Ballantine said, as it looked like Gunnar and the pilot were just slipping and sliding in whale guts more than actually landing any punches. “This isn’t the time for rough housing.”

  “Popeye!” Thorne shouted to the man as he stood by the far rail, his attention turned to the water below. “Break that shit up!”

  “What?” Popeye asked. “Commander, you should come look at this.”

  “I don’t want to look at anything right now,” Thorne said, “just go pull those morons apart!”

  “But you should see---,” Popeye said.

  “I’ll see your ass tossed overboard if you don’t fucking go grab them!” Thorne roared.

  The crew scrambled away and hurried off to their posts, leaving just Ballantine, Thorne, Bobby, and Popeye on deck. And the gore covered pilot and Gunnar.

  Popeye smacked Gunnar upside the head and pulled him away from the pilot. The pilot tried to get a couple kicks in, but Popeye socked him in the gut and shoved him away.

  “There,” Popeye said, “broken up.”

  Gunnar looked like he would go after the pilot again, but Popeye grabbed him by his shirt and shoved him from the helipad. He landed on his ass hard, as he fell a couple feet down onto the deck proper.

  “Fuck, Popeye,” Gunnar complained, “you didn’t have to do that.”

  “Got your attention,” Thorne said as he helped Gunnar to his feet.

  “I still need this shit cleared away!” the pilot shouted. “Or I can’t take off!”

 
“You aren’t going anywhere!” Thorne shouted back, pointing at the ship that was steaming towards them. “Those are fucking pirates, you idiot! And until we get out of this mess, that bird is grounded!”

  “No, actually, Commander,” Mr. Perry said from behind them all, “it isn’t.”

  Thorne turned around and his face fell. “What’s this happy horseshit now?”

  “I have to agree with Thorne, Stefan,” Mr. Ballantine said. “I am a little confused by this turn of events.”

  Mr. Perry stood there, one hand holding Ms. Horace’s throat while the other held a .45 to her temple. Mr. Longbottom stood directly behind Mr. Perry, looking sheepish, but obviously part of what was going on.

  “While I didn’t expect this to turn out this way,” Mr. Perry said, “I can’t say I’m surprised. It changes a few things, but not by much.”

  “Perry, what the fuck?” Thorne said and stepped towards him.

  “Stay where you are, Commander,” Mr. Perry said, “or the beautiful Diane Horace stops being so beautiful. Or alive.”

  “What do you want?” Mr. Ballantine asked. “What is your end game?”

  “First, I want you to listen to that pilot and clear that pad so the helicopter can take off,” Mr. Perry said. “Then I want you to secure the shark carcass to the helicopter. It’s coming with.”

  “Hey,” the pilot said, “I know you’re the guy with the gun, but there isn’t enough fuel in my bird to carry us all and that dead shark back to land.”

  “I don’t need it to go to land,” Mr. Perry said, glancing towards the approaching ship, “just need it to go to my ride.”

  Chapter Nine: Take Off

  The man’s throat spurted blood as Darby slashed with the knife. She caught him before he could fall, while also catching quite a bit of blood to the face, and let the man slump against the wall. She hurried beck to help Kinsey with Shane.

  “That’s four,” Darby said. “They are bound to notice the loss of numbers.”

  “They aren’t exactly professionals,” Kinsey said. “They may not notice anything.”

  “I’m not willing to bet my life on that,” Darby said, nodding towards the stairs that would take them up top. “You going to be able to get him up those?”