Mega 3: When Giants Collide (Mega Series) Page 3

  “Where are we going?” Lucy asked as she stumbled out into the sunlight, her bikini top and shorts coated in vomit. “There a beach party? I love beach parties.”

  She stopped halfway and hunched over, and then proceeded to empty the contents of her stomach in such a violent way that her head jerked and slammed into the ground, knocking her out cold.

  “You get to carry her,” Shane said as he walked past his brother and pointed at Lucy. “Maybe your girlfriend will help.”

  “Yeah, we got it,” Max said.

  Darby didn’t argue as she grabbed Lucy’s legs while Max grabbed Lucy’s shoulders. They followed Shane to a different trail than the one Ballantine and Thorne had come up. In seconds, they were lost from sight as they made their way down to the beach and the Zodiac raft waiting to take them back out to the Beowulf III.

  “Again, my apologies,” Ballantine said to Linny. “I hope they have a speedy recovery. At least know that it looks like she took it easy on them.”

  Linny just stood there as Ballantine gave her a wide smile and followed the brothers and Darby down to the beach.

  “What?” Linny snapped as Thorne stood there watching her.

  “I know you used to be a SEAL,” Thorne said. “Shane told me all about that asshole. You seem tough and obviously know how to be in charge.”

  “Yeah, so?” she grumbled.

  “Normally those qualities are good things,” Thorne said, “but when we leave you need to forget about being tough and in charge. If anyone comes here looking for us, you hide. Just hide, and if you can’t hide, then you tell them everything you know. Do not try to lie for Shane, got it? You tell them everything and hopefully they’ll believe you and go away.”

  “I don’t fucking know anything,” Linny said. “Shane didn’t tell me shit.”

  “I think he probably did,” Thorne said as he pointed at her skirt. “That’s on backwards, by the way.”

  She looked down and closed her eyes. “Mother fucker.”

  “Remember what I said,” Thorne said one last time as he walked away. “Hide or be honest. Don’t fight.”

  Linny looked up as Thorne stepped onto the trail. “Who’s coming after you?”

  “Bad people,” Thorne said. “Very bad people. It’s probably best you take that cash Ballantine gave you and get your people out of here. That’ll be safer than hiding or being honest. Best just not to be around.”

  Thorne gave her a sad smile then was lost from sight as he descended the trail.

  Linny looked down at the roll of 100s in her hand.

  “Yeah, I think getting the fuck out of here is better,” she said. Then she looked at the huge men that lay on the ground. “Great. How the fuck am I supposed to get you assholes to the fucking hospital?”

  ***

  Boatswain Trevor “Popeye” De Bruhl cut the motor to the lift and shook his head as he looked at Lucy lying in the bottom of the Zodiac.

  “What the hell happened to her?” Popeye asked as he waved his hand in front of his nose. Short, thin, bald, with massive forearms that were covered in tattoos. De Bruhl even had a one eyed squint like the cartoon Popeye. The main difference between the man and the cartoon character was that the flesh and blood Popeye was missing his right leg and in its place was a segmented, titanium prosthetic with a splayed piece of heavy duty rubber at the bottom. “She got food poisoning or something?”

  “Something like that,” Max said as he and Darby lifted Lucy out of the Zodiac while Popeye kept it steady. “Where’s Gun? He’s going to need to pump her stomach and put some fluids in her. Pretty sure she has alcohol poisoning.”

  “Lightweight,” Popeye said.

  “Can you have Captain Lake draw anchor and ready the ship?” Ballantine asked Popeye as he stepped onto the deck. “We will need to leave these waters ASAP.”

  “Sure thing, bossman,” Popeye said. “You gonna need to call a meeting? That’s your gonna need to call a meeting voice.”

  “Do I have a gonna need to call a meeting voice?” Ballantine asked.

  “Yeah, you do,” Shane said as he stepped around Ballantine and headed up to the observation deck. “Sounds just like your constipated voice.”

  “Stow it, Reynolds,” Thorne said.

  Shane just raised his hand and gave everyone the finger as he took the stairs up to the observation deck where he heard Kinsey and Darren talking.

  “I’ll call the meeting,” Thorne said to Ballantine.

  “Thank you, Commander,” Ballantine said, then looked down at the stains on his khakis from where Lucy had puked on him during the ride from the island to the ship. “Give everyone time to clean up. Say, thirty minutes?”

  “Will do,” Thorne nodded.

  ***

  The briefing room looked more like a corporate boardroom than a meeting room on a ship. The walls were paneled in expensive wood while the long table in the middle was made from a single piece of teak. Monitors lowered from the ceiling along the walls except for one side of the room which was nothing but sliding glass doors that looked out onto the clear blue waters of the South Pacific.

  “Everyone take a seat,” Thorne said as he sat towards the front of the table. “Lake won’t be joining us since we have to get moving into open waters as soon as possible.”

  Darren, Kinsey, Shane, Max, and Darby, all came in and took their seats. Two of the newer additions to Team Grendel came into the room just after them.

  In her late forties, with short, bobbed blonde hair and hazel eyes, Dr. Lisa Morganton was known as calm, cool, and collected. In charge of the advanced bio-alternatives division of the company Ballantine worked for, Dr. Morganton was presumed dead in order to be protected from retribution by the Colende drug cartel after having her cover blown as an inside operative. Unfortunately for the doctor, that rouse made no difference since the cartel wanted everyone on the B3 dead.

  The other newer addition was former Navy SEAL, Mike Pearlman. A double amputee, Mike had been recruited by a man called McCarthy to pilot narco-subs that Dr. Morganton had designed. Team Grendel had thwarted those plans and recruited Mike once the mission was over, not just because of his skills as an ex-SEAL, but because he had a personal relationship with Gunnar.

  It was all very complicated for everyone.

  “How the legs doing today, Mike?” Kinsey asked as she looked at his robotic prosthetics. “Still no glitches?”

  “None,” Mike said as he sat down, the gyros and servos in his legs whirring then going silent once he was settled. “Morganton and Gunnar have kept them running beautifully.”

  “I bet Gunnar has,” Max said, nudging his brother. “Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge.”

  “You ever take them off before you do it with Gunnar?” Shane asked Mike. “I bet you do, huh? Give him a little double stump action.”

  “What the fuck is double stump action?” Max asked.

  “I don’t know, I just made it up,” Shane replied. “Sounds dirty, though, doesn’t it?”

  “Totally,” Max grinned then looked at Darby. “Maybe you and I could have a little double stump action later, eh, my little assassin of love?”

  “Don’t be an idiot,” Darby frowned, “you have both of your legs.”

  “Yet, none of his brains,” Kinsey said, getting a smile from Darby.

  “We are not together,” Mike said. “Gunnar has been very clear on that.”

  “Clear on what?” Gunnar asked as he stepped into the briefing room. “What’d I miss?”

  “Apparently you’re missing some double stump sexiness,” Max said. “Your loss, dude.”

  Gunnar looked at the brothers then just took his seat. “Okay, I’m going to ignore that. Sorry I was late, had to make sure Lucy was hooked up to an IV.”

  “She going to be alright?” Darren asked.

  “She’ll be fine once she’s fully hydrated,” Gunnar said then looked at Ballantine. “So, what’s the hurry that you had me backup all my files and start a satellite transfer?” />
  “That wasn’t supposed to be public knowledge,” Ballantine said.

  “There’s twenty of us on this ship, Ballantine,” Gunnar said. “Everything becomes public knowledge at some point.”

  “Like my amazing sexual prowess,” Max said. “I’m sure you hear it echoing through the passageways at night.”

  “Yet, we never hear Darby,” Shane said. “Hmmm, I’m thinking this may be a one sided love affair.”

  “She’s a pillow biter,” Max whispered loudly. Darby just sighed.

  “Boys?” Thorne asked.

  “Shutting the fuck up, Uncle Vinny,” Shane said.

  “Zippity zoo,” Max added as he pretended to zip his lips.

  “Now that is out of your systems,” Ballantine said as he stood up from his chair at the head of the table, “I’m now going to jump right in with both feet first. I hate to be the one to tell all of you, but as of this morning, every person on this ship, as well as the ship itself, has been disavowed by the government of the United States Of America.”

  They all stared at him for a minute.

  “Does that mean we aren’t citizens anymore?” Max finally asked.

  “That means that those of us that were citizens are now considered nonexistent and those that weren’t citizens are considered to be foreign aggressors and added to every watch list on the planet.”

  No one said a word.

  “It’s nothing special,” Darby said. “You get used to it.”

  “You what?” Max asked, whipping his head around to look at Darby. “Whoa, what haven’t you told me about yourself?”

  “Almost everything,” Darby said.

  “Well, yeah, I knew we had secrets, but being thought of as a foreign aggressor is something you tell your boyfriend,” Max said. “I mean, come on, Darby, I put my penis in you every night. I like to know when my penis is going into an enemy of the United States, because I’m just old school that way.”

  “Now I’m going to be sick like Lucy,” Kinsey said.

  “You’ve been on US soil lots of times since I’ve known you,” Darren said to Darby.

  “See?” she said casually. “Not a big deal.”

  “You’re a traitor fucker,” Shane said to Max. “It’s like I don’t even know who you are.”

  “Knock it off!” Thorne shouted. “This shit is very fucking serious!”

  The brothers were about to respond, but their uncle’s glare stopped them and they kept their mouth shut.

  “I have Captain Lake taking us out into international waters since these waters are considered United States territory because of their proximity to American Samoa,” Ballantine said. “He is then plotting a course to someplace that I believe we can be safe from our pursuers.”

  “They’re still after us?” Darren asked. “We didn’t lose them after that dust up in Chile?”

  “No, unfortunately, we did not lose them,” Ballantine said.

  “Do we know for sure they’re cartel?” Kinsey asked.

  “We know they are connected,” Ballantine replied. “They may not be cartel themselves, but they have certainly been set on the chase by the cartels.”

  “Why are more than one after us?” Shane asked. “Why not just the Colende cartel?”

  “Apparently by killing Espanoza, we have upset the balance of power in Mexico,” Ballantine replied. “He had made several alliances with other cartels to fund his creation of the cocaine additive. When we destroyed that, we angered more than just the Colende operation.”

  “Dudes need to chill and get over it,” Max said. “They have to be wasting all kinds of money coming after us. Not like they can take us anyway. We fucking kill monster sharks and giant fucking snakes and whatever the hell that thing in Chile was. In the dictionary you’ll find a group picture of Team Grendel under badass.”

  “Hooyah,” Shane said and fist bumped his brother.

  “Tell them,” Thorne said to Ballantine.

  “I am not sure now is the time, Commander,” Ballantine said. “I would like to gather more information.”

  “Yeah, and I’d like to retire to a quiet condo in San Diego and watch sports, drink beer, and die happy,” Thorne growled, “and that ain’t gonna happen either.”

  “Very well,” Ballantine said, as he slowly made sure to look everyone in the eye that was seated at the table. “I have received some alarming news today.”

  “More alarming than the fact that we are all now citizens in limbo?” Shane asked.

  “Limbo contest,” Max said. “After the meeting we’ll mix some drinks, non-alcoholic for Kinsey, of course, and then have a limbo contest. It’ll begin the healing process.” He held up his hand as his uncle was about to snap. “Shutting up now, Uncle Vinny.”

  “The client that hired the company to dispose of their shark problem has been purchased by an outside entity,” Ballantine said, “and it is believed that outside entity has employed a specific resource of the former client for the explicit purpose of hunting us down.”

  “Is it a zeppelin?” Shane asked. “It would be pretty cool to be chased by a fucking blimp.”

  “No, Mr. Reynolds, it is not a zeppelin,” Ballantine sighed. “Anyone care to guess what it is?”

  “Just tell them,” Thorne snarled.

  Ballantine glared at the commander, but let it go.

  “They have released another shark,” Ballantine said. “This one is considerably more dangerous than the previous sharks we’ve encountered.”

  “Considerably?” Shane asked.

  “More dangerous?” Max finished.

  “How so?” Gunnar asked, leaning forward in his chair. “Is it larger? Stronger? Better senses? More equipped to track us? Able to get through the triple hull? Be specific, Ballantine.”

  “Yes to all of those,” Ballantine said, “and more.”

  Gunnar leaned back and his face went white at the prospect. Ballantine looked at everyone else and saw that they were just as pale as Gunnar was.

  “There, now we are all up to speed,” Ballantine said as he sat back down. “Let’s open the table to suggestions, shall we?”

  Chapter Two- Bigger Problems

  The small fishing boat bobbed in the subtle waves that lapped at its sides. Weighed down by a bountiful catch of a mix of mahi mahi, skipjacks, and a couple swordfish, the captain started the engine and carefully steered his boat back towards home, ready to unload and reap the benefits of his catch.

  The two hired deck hands were busy folding and stowing nets, packing up lines and hooks, and making sure that everything was strapped down as it should be. The sky didn’t show any hint of a storm or problems with weather, but out on the open ocean, in a boat as small as the one they were on, they knew not to take chances.

  “We get quarter split?” one deck hand named Peter asked. A short thick man, he looked like a brown barrel with stubby arms and legs. “That right? We each get a quarter?”

  “Nah, bra,” the second hand replied. His name was Hekali, but everyone just called him Hek the Neck because of his long, skinny neck. He shook his head on that neck and glanced towards the captain in the wheelhouse. “We split a quarter. He keeps three quarters.”

  “Ain’t right, bra,” Peter said. “We did most of the work. We should get at least half.”

  “His boat,” Hek shrugged. “We’d get nothing if we didn’t have his boat.”

  “He’d get nothing if we didn’t do it all for him,” Peter complained.

  “Is what it is,” Hek shrugged. “Good haul today, so even splitting a quarter will be worth it.”

  “Splitting half would be more worth it,” Peter grumbled as he finished folding a net. He arched his back and stretched his sore, tired muscles. “Next time we ask for half.”

  “Next time he may not hire us,” Hek said as he wound a rope about his hand and forearm, making sure it was tight and not kinked. He was about to say more to Peter about being careful he doesn’t ruin a good thing, but the words became stuck in h
is throat as he saw movement far off across the water.

  “You okay, bra?” Peter asked him.

  Hek still couldn’t answer as he watched the impossible come towards them. Peter turned and followed Hek’s gaze.

  “What is that?” Peter asked. “That can’t be what I think it is, bra.”

  “Tell the captain,” Hek nearly whispered. “Tell him now.”

  Peter nodded and then hurried his short bulk over to the wheelhouse. “Captain! We have a problem!”

  ***

  “Do we have a problem, gentlemen?” Linny asked as the Land Cruiser pulled up to the bar just as she was loading boxes into her Jeep. “You look like you’re in a hurry.”

  Four men stepped from the Land Cruiser and Linny’s eyes instantly focused on the weapons they held.

  “Tavor SAR series,” Linny nodded as she put her hands on her hips. “Nice guns. Those converted to 9mm or still .223?”

  The driver, a large man wearing a black tank top and khaki shorts, smiled at Linny, and then looked down at the semi-automatic rifle he held.

  “Good eye,” the man said as he patted his weapon. “9mm conversion it is. That way I don’t have to worry about switching up ammo.” He patted the 9mm pistol on his hip. “Keep it simple, stupid, right?”

  Linny just smiled back while she slowly moved her right hand from her hip to the small of her back.

  “What are you packing?” the man asked, taking a few steps closer while the other three men stayed close to the Land Cruiser. “No, let me guess. Hmmm. A Walther PPK? Powerful, but fits a woman’s hand well. Not too much of a kick to it either.”

  Linny froze, her hand still behind her back.

  “Can I see?” the man asked. “I love small arms. Sometimes, I wish I could get rid of these bulky things and just use pistols.”

  “Lin? You good?” the bartender asked as he came outside to check on her.

  Tank Top’s rifle barked and the man fell, his chest torn open by several rounds.

  “No!” Linny screamed as she pulled the pistol from behind her back.

  She took two slugs to her right shoulder before she could even get the pistol raised. The impacts spun her about and she slammed into the hood of her Jeep. The pistol fell from her hand and went off as it hit the gravel at her feet. There was a grunt of pain by the Land Cruiser, but Linny barely noticed as she dealt with her pain and slowly slumped to the ground.