by K D McNiven
“I’ll stay on board,” Callie said. “Karina invited me and India to go surfing with her later today.”
“You haven’t done that in a while,” Decker replied. “Sounds refreshing.”
“I’m all ready for refreshing,” Callie replied.
“Okay. Let’s head out. I’m hoping to go back and research the wreck within a couple of days,” Dax told Decker, grabbing his keys.
Hopping into his jeep, they made their way into the bustling city. The day was warm as usual, and both of them were champing at the bit to get back to what they loved doing. This delay was undeniably an irritation, but nevertheless, it needed to be dealt with.
They drove through Coconut Grove to a housing tract that had lots of trees and water channels. Dax pulled up in front of a tangerine-colored stucco apartment complex, turned off the engine and motioned for Decker to follow along. Stepping through the arched wooden door, Decker saw a whitewashed living room with bamboo flooring.
Decker stood in the doorway scanning the room’s interior, an amused smile on his face. Dax turned to see Decker’s light-hearted expression.
“I can see you’re quite taken with my interior designing skills?”
Decker couldn’t help but laugh. “Blow up furniture?”
Dax shrugged. “Never here. If some bloke chooses to break in while I’m away, they can take it with them.”
“I suppose that’s a sensible presumption.”
“Actually, it’s my sister’s apartment,” he told Decker. “But Lara’s never around either. I often wonder why we keep it. However, there are times when I want my feet on solid ground.”
“I hear you,” Decker agreed. “Callie and I always enjoy going to our home in Malibu. We’re only there a few times a year, but there’s something comforting about returning.”
Without warning, there was a loud crashing noise as the door burst open and two men pushed their way through, their eyes slanted with malice. One of the men was humongous, even making Dax and Decker look small in comparison. He had to be well over six foot five, Dax determined, with broad shoulders and a chest with bulging muscles—noted by the white, sleeveless tank he was wearing.
Decker started for his gun, but the behemothic-built man was on him, slamming him into the wall, knocking the very breath from him with a grunt. The man grabbed hold of Decker’s gun and ripped it away, tossing it to the side. His fist was like a sledge-hammer as it slammed against Decker’s chin, sending him sprawling to the floor. Pain shot through his head as he hit the hardwood.
At once the man dove on top of Decker and grabbed his throat. His steely fingers drove into his flesh with an iron grip, closing off Decker’s air. With a free arm, Decker swung upward, striking the intruder on the side of the head. It was enough to jar the giant’s fingers loose. Decker bucked, throwing the man aside. Quickly, he pushed himself to his feet and made a dash for his gun. He could hear Dax scuffling behind them but was unable to lend any help.
Gargantuan sprang into action again, charging over Decker as if he was a bowling pin. The man’s meaty hands grabbed a fistful of Decker’s shirt and literally picked him up off his feet. His face was scrunched into a vicious sneer, his dark eyes brimming with icy-cold intensity.
“I’m gonna kill you,” he growled, his lip curling back from decayed teeth. His face twisted maniacally as he hissed, “Kill you good.”
“The devil you are, you foul-breathed snake!” Decker clenched his fist and slammed it below the man’s eye, but the crazed beast didn’t even flinch. As the man’s grip tightened on Decker’s shirt, his air was slowly being pinched off.
There was a shattering of glass, a deep guttural moan, and the man released Decker. Decker slumped to the floor, gasping for air. Gargantua whirled around to see Dax standing rigidly behind him, the remains of a broken vase in his hand. Now distracted from Decker, he stormed after Dax like a raging bull, a deep bellow rumbling from his mouth as his large, square head plowed into Dax’s stomach. Dax was thrown backward over the blow-up chair and rolled across the floor with a loud grunt.
Catching his breath, Decker leapt forward, jumping onto his assailant’s back and circled his arm around the man’s thick stump of a neck. Decker squeezed with everything he had, but the massive man spun him in a circle fighting to dislodge him. Decker held fast, not daring to let up on his choke hold.
When Dax saw Decker clinging to his attacker, he scrambled to his feet and cocked his fist back and letting it fly, cuffed the man’s jaw with a sound thwack! The man snarled as if he was a wild animal, and teetered backward from the blow, pinning Decker to the wall. Decker felt as if his ribs were crushed. He could scarcely catch his breath, and his eyes bulged.
Grabbing the fire poker, Dax swung it as if he was teeing off. The iron rod smashed into Gargantuan’s legs, and he toppled to the ground with a scream that made the hair on the back of their necks stand stiff.
With both men down, Decker and Dax sprinted out the door to the Wrangler. They slid in quickly, Dax hurriedly inserting the key into the ignition. The engine whined as he thrust the pedal to the floor and the jeep lurched forward leaving a cyclone of black smoke behind.
“What on earth was that? He must eat nails for breakfast!” Decker moaned.
“He wasn’t human to be sure,” Dax said, looking back in the mirror. “Oh, crikey, they’re coming after us!”
“Crikey?”
“An Aussie expression, mate.”
Decker craned his head back. He saw a red Acura TLX trailing behind them. Dax squealed around the corner and out of the housing tract, then onto the main highway. He could see they were gaining on them. Wanting to create space between them, Dax began weaving in and out of traffic in an attempt to shake them, but it was not working.
Dax cranked the wheel as they hit a Y in the road hoping they wouldn’t be able to negotiate the sudden turn, then sped down the right ramp. The other vehicle slid sideways but managed to make the turn, regaining control and barreling after them. Traffic was beginning to build. Dax eased in and out of traffic, but he was finding it more difficult the longer they drove. He cranked the steering wheel and veered off onto another street less congested.
They sped down the side street, weaving, and dodging, narrowly missing a man who was jaywalking. The man leapt out of the way in the nick of time. Dax threw on his brakes, smoke boiling behind them. He turned down an alley, and onto yet another street, the jeep lunging in the air as he struck a speed bump. Both Dax and Decker were jarred and thrown harshly against the dash.
“That may have broken my shoulder,” groaned Decker. He rubbed it trying to ease the sharp pain.
As they swerved sharply to their right, a large delivery truck pulled out from the curb in front of them. Dax punched his foot solidly on the brakes and the Wrangler skid with a loud shriek toward the side of the truck. There was a forceful jar, and a crunch as the jeep rammed into the truck throwing both of them violently to the side. The air bags burst open and slammed into their faces.
“Let’s high-tail it out of here!” Decker prodded him.
After several hard pushes against the crushed door, Dax realized his was not going to budge. He scrambled over the seat to exit through the passenger side. As they made their way out of the demolished Wrangler, they saw the other two men leaping from their vehicle to chase after them.
“What is it with you, Dax? Is everyone after you?”
“Have to wonder, don’t you?”
They sprinted down the sidewalk, pushing past the people. Up ahead of them was a building under construction. Decker pulled Dax inside where they found a rope lift and began to pull themselves upward to the third level. There was plywood laid out over some of the horizontal steel beams making narrow walkways.
“Now what, idea man,” Dax said, looking around. He didn’t see any way for them to make it down other than the way they came.
“Search me. All I know is we have to keep moving,” Decker said. He began moving out onto the fortifi
ed girders straddling the wide gaps in the plywood flooring. He could see the men climbing the metal scaffolding beneath them.
A shot sang past Decker’s head, and he hunkered down. “I don’t suppose you have your
gun on you? Mine is still on the floor at your house.”
“Don’t leave home without it.” Dax withdrew his cast carbon Dan Wesson Elite Series Fury from his waistband. He twisted back and popped off two rounds, and headed off to catch up with Decker, feeling like a tightrope walker as he fought to balance himself on the steel beam.
The two men were scrambling up the frame like monkeys, closing the gap. Another shot sang past their heads, striking the solid steel scaffolding, to the left of them. Dax returned fire once more, the recoil making him lose his balance and he went down. His hand reached out and caught the lip of iron, arresting his fall. His feet were dangling, and he was not sure how long his fingers could keep their awkward hold. Unwilling to let go of his gun, yet unable to grab the girder while holding it, he fired two more shots at the climbing men below.
Decker turned back and saw Dax clinging with one hand. He rushed back, dropped to his knee, and grabbed Dax’s free hand by the wrist.
With a struggle, Decker managed to pull Dax up beside him, and the two hurried across the beams, sometimes having to leap from one to the other, battling to keep their balance and not fall three stories to their death.
Dax realized they were getting forced into a corner. There was a sense of urgency seeing that the two men were gaining on them so quickly. He aimed and fired again, but instead of the sharp report he expected, there was the click of the firing pin hitting an empty chamber.
“Out of bullets. I believe we’re in a bit more trouble than we bargained for,” Dax said. “You might want to step it up, they’re gaining on us.”
“Doing the best I can.”
“I’m gonna rip your head off,” Gargantuan bellowed, continuing his earlier threats. “I’m gonna tear you from limb to limb!”
“This guy has got some real mental issues going on,” Decker grunted, thinking the attacker looked like a piranha with his teeth bared and his lips curled back in a sneer. He shuddered, not wanting to take on this overgrown gorilla again, especially while they were three stories in the air, balancing on a metal beam. He spun around, his eyes darting in every direction for a way to escape. If they didn’t do something immediately, he might very well tear their arms and legs off as he threatened.
“Grab hold of my waist!” Decker said. “And don’t look down.”
“What?”
“Grab on!” Soon as Decker felt Dax’s arms circle his waist, he grabbed hold of a cable line that was attached to the tower crane. Getting a firm grip, he added, “When I say, ‘let go,’ do it!”
“You’re joking, right?” Dax moaned, daring to look down. Three stories—they were going to be broken into a hundred pieces.
“Not kidding. We’re boxed in. I don’t know about you, but I’m not interested in hand-to-hand combat while we’re teetering from metal grids.” With a momentous leap forward, the two of them swung outward. “Now!” Decker yelled. Both of them hurled through the air, arms and legs flailing as if they would miraculously take flight. Eyes closed and bellowing all the way down until they landed smack in the middle of a large truck heaped with garbage bags.
“Now that was an adrenaline rush,” Decker said pulling a banana peel off his head and tossing it aside.
“Is that what you call it? I’m trying to keep my heart from leaping out of my chest.”
Decker scrambled out of the truck. “Come on, they’re already climbing back down.”
“Who are these guys? They’re like rabid dogs!”
“And from what I’ve seen, they have a nasty bite,” Decker huffed, his legs feeling like rubber. “Let’s head for the jeep and see if we can’t fire it up.”
They hustled back toward the Wrangler where they were greeted by two police officers who were not looking very receptive to their explanation about why they had smashed into the side of a truck and fled on foot. Looking back they spied the two men stalled at the corner of the building. Obviously, they were not willing to take them on with the officers beside them.
“Well, this day didn’t go as planned,” Dax said. “My side boat is totaled and now my jeep. Beginning to think someone up there doesn’t like me all that much.”
“I’d say more circumstantial.”
“You always so nonchalant in crisis?”
“What can you do?”
Dax shook his head as the officer forced him into the back seat of the police car. At this rate, all of the funds he’d acquired for the salvage would be exhausted. Hopefully, they could talk their way out of this scrape and head back to the Shark Eater.
CHAPTER 17
Shark Eater
Callie busied herself with carbon dating of the wood specimens they had brought up from the ocean floor. The pieces of wood were covered with a layer of silt and sand. There were also a few other corroded metal objects yet to identify and evaluate for the record.
“How’s it going, Callie?” asked Karina, who was stooped over her lab table documenting several more chemicals she’d found in the water samples.
“Coming along,” Callie answered, stretching her arms over her head, and yawning widely. They had been working for several hours straight, and Callie was finding it difficult to keep her focus. “The wood is white oak, probably came from the Spanish Mediterranean around the 16th century.”
“Wow. That’s pretty exciting. I bet that ship could tell you a story,” Karina said.
“I’ll bet. I’m surprised it hasn’t deteriorated more than it has considering it has been laying in the shallows all these years. Especially with the warmer water in conjunction with the salinity and dissolved oxygen content.”
“This is a dream come true for me,” Karina said turning on her stool to face Callie. She rubbed her eyes that burned from hours of staring at slides. “I’m glad to be a part of all this. And I have enjoyed working alongside of you, Callie.”
“Yes, it has,” Callie agreed. “I hope we have another opportunity to work together down the road.”
There was a rustle of clothes, and they turned to see India walking into the lab with a platter of sandwiches, chips and drinks for them. “Thought you two might be starved by now,” she offered with a wide smile.
“You must have been reading my mind,” Callie said, her stomach rumbling. She had only eaten half a protein bar for breakfast, and it was already past one o’clock. “Thank you so much!”
India set the tray on the counter and pulled up a chair. “I don’t know how you two do it,” she told them, taking a bite out of her sandwich. “You’re like squirrels holed up for the winter.”
“I feel like it sometimes.” Karina laughed softly, moving away from her desk to join them. “But we need accurate information to hand over to the research center to spur a thorough investigation. However, we’re not the only ones working hard. Captain Manny has been spending hours making phone calls trying to find out the whereabouts of the Gabriel. I’m not sure what he’s found out.”
“I can fill you in on that,” India replied. “The ship seems to have disappeared off the planet.”
“Disappeared? How’s that possible?” Callie asked in surprise.
India shrugged. “She was delivering cargo somewhere in Haiti, according to Captain Manny. After an extensive search, Captain Manny couldn’t find any more records of her docking, loading, or anything. Almost as if the ship never existed. And yet, we know that’s not true. We have a bullet riddled side boat to show for it.”
“That’s a bit strange,” Karina said.
“Captain Manny’s exact words.”
“Do you think they’ve hidden the ship somewhere now that we know what they’re up to?” Callie agreed.
“Hard to do with a cargo ship,” India said. “And what about the crew? Wouldn’t they be a bit suspicious if the Gabriel suddenl
y dropped off the map? Something's very fishy about this.”
“Let’s say,” Callie said. “They took the ship somewhere to be revamped? New paint, new name, new crew…”
India shrugged. “A possibility. Unless it was sucked up in the Bermuda Triangle.” They all laughed. India glanced at her watch and added, “Wonder where Dax and Decker are? I expected they would have been back long before now.”
“If they have to purchase a new side boat that could take some time,” Karina reasoned.
Moments later, they heard a shuffling of feet coming down the hallway toward them. “What do you know, the guys are on cue!” Callie said.
“Expecting us?” came a gravelly, cold voice, and two men stepped inside.
All three of the women stared, startled by the abrupt entrance. One of the men had a gun leveled at them and looked like an oversized gorilla. They looked somewhat battered in their appearance—a few bruises on their faces, some tears in their shirts and a few cuts laced with dried blood.
“What do you want?” Callie demanded. “You need to leave!”
There was a wicked smile, twisting the corners of the big thug’s mouth. He surveyed them intently. “We’re here to take care of some business, lady.”
“You don’t have business here,” Callie said firmly. Her words exuded confidence despite the fact her stomach was twisting into knots.
India was not going to stand there and let these men intimidate them. She shot a quick glance over at Callie and, catching her hint, Callie prepared herself for action. She had come to know India enough to realize she wouldn’t stand idly by while these men threatened them. With her eyes squarely focused on India, Callie waited and watched.
It happened quickly and without warning. India snapped a round-house kick, striking the giant man’s hand. The gun went soaring into the air, clunking loudly on the floor. Soon as her foot struck, she spun around with a back fist into the man’s jaw. He didn’t budge. In fact, he felt like a rock pillar. India could see this was not going to be an easy take down, but she was set to give it her best shot.
