Mega
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“What?” Jennings said. “That wasn’t exactly easy.”
“I’m detoxing from alcohol and junk,” Kinsey said, “and I barely broke a sweat.”
“Fuck you, supergirl,” Jennings said. “What now?”
“In here,” Kinsey said as she opened the cover to the lifeboat.
“No way,” Jennings said, seeing the dead body.
“Don’t be a pussy,” Kinsey said, “get in.”
Jennings muttered and swore, but climbed in. Kinsey followed and let the cover fall back down.
“Now we sit tight,” Kinsey said. “We reassess when this ship gets to the Beowulf II.”
“What if we’re wrong?” Jennings said. “What if this ship isn’t going after the Beowulf II and changes course? Then what?”
“What else would they be doing out here?” Kinsey said. “And why would they have RPGs? They’re going after the Beowulf II.”
***
“Gone? What do you mean gone?” Thorne asked. “What the fuck happened to the signal, Darby?”
“It stopped,” Darby said over the com. “I’m not getting a reading anymore. Unless you guys have something there, we’ve lost it.”
“Shit!” Thorne shouted. He looked at Lake then Darren. They both shook their head.
“Something I could help with?” Mr. Ballantine asked as he stepped onto the bridge. “I saw Darby leave with one of the Reynolds. I assume she is doing something important?”
“Kinsey and Jennings took the Wiglaf out for training and there has been an incident,” Darren said. “Show him.”
“Show him?” Lake said. “Are you talking to me? What am I, you’re A/V specialist?”
“Just play the fucking video!” Thorne shouted.
Mr. Ballantine raised his eyebrows in surprise, but said nothing as Lake started the video. Mr. Ballantine only watched it once then nodded.
“And what were you hoping to accomplish by sending Darby out?” Mr. Ballantine said.
“We were hoping to rescue my daughter,” Thorne snapped.
“And Jennings,” Lake added, “let’s not forget Jennings.”
Thorne just glared.
“Commander Thorne wanted to have Bobby take the Wyrm up, but I said that was too much of a risk,” Darren said.
“You’re right there,” Mr. Ballantine agreed, “but there may be another option.”
“And that is?” Thorne asked.
“I have just received word that the long range helicopter is available and tasked to pick up my colleagues a day early,” Mr. Ballantine said. “It is on the way now. It can pick up Mr. Perry, Ms. Horace, and Mr. Longbottom, then look for Ms. Thorne and Mr. Jennings. How does that sound?”
“It should look for them first,” Thorne said, “that’s how that sounds.”
“It won’t,” Mr. Ballantine said. “The pilot is under orders from the company. I can’t influence the objective until I get face to face with the man.”
“But what would happen to Kinsey and Jennings?” Lake asked.
“They’d be taken to a company ship,” Mr. Ballantine said. “Then back to the mainland. They’d miss the rest of the mission, but we’d pick them up in a month or so.”
“They…what? A month?” Thorne fumed. “You have got to be shitting me.”
“I shit you not,” Mr. Ballantine said.
“Darren? You know about this?” Thorne asked.
“Of course he does,” Mr. Ballantine said. “Well, the continuing of the mission part. You see, Commander, with the discovery that the whale is an adolescent that means Captain Chambers hasn’t found exactly what he was looking for. And neither have I, for that matter.”
“Are you two fucking nuts?” Thorne roared, pointing out of the bridge and at the decks below. “You have two motherfucking prehistoric sea creatures on this motherfucking ship! And you aren’t satisfied?” He turned on Darren. “Is Gunnar satisfied? I have a feeling he has enough work to last him years! And you greedy motherfuckers want more?” Thorne began to pull his sidearm. “Fuck you!”
Lake grabbed Thorne’s hand and got right in his face. “No, sir. Just no.”
Thorne nearly went for Lake’s throat, but he saw the look in the Chief’s eyes and knew the man was just saving him from making a big mistake.
“I’m cool,” Thorne said to Lake. When the Chief finally backed off, Thorne turned to Ballantine. “What about the pirates? You think they’ll stick with your new plan?”
“Pirates?” Mr. Ballantine asked. “What’s this?”
“Presumed pirates,” Darren said, “we don’t have confirmation.”
“Yes, we do,” Darby said over the com, “or did you forget about us?”
***
The Zodiac bobbed in the small waves about one hundred yards from Daacad’s ship. Darby and Shane, both wearing their NVGs, watched the ship carefully, counting as many men on deck as they could see.
“You catching this?” Shane whispered. “Are the NVGs transmitting?”
“Crystal clear,” Max replied. “Full Team is here in the command center. Well, except for all of you out there on the high seas. We’re watching what you’re watching.”
“Definitely pirates,” Darby said. “Any face rec coming in?”
“Give us a second,” Darren replied. “The satellite uplink is slow.”
“Switch to the manual database,” Darby said. “I have a hunch.”
The ship kept moving and Darby turned the Zodiac to follow, staying well back out of the ship’s lights and to the side of the wake. The ship’s engines were loud enough to drown out any noise the Zodiac’s motor was making, but Darby still wasn’t happy with how close they were. She would have preferred to tail from a couple hundred yards further back. But they needed the close proximity for the NVGs to pick up information.
“Bingo,” Max said, “we have a winner.”
“Care to let us in on the good news?” Shane asked.
“Sure thing, bro,” Max said. “We have at least three faces the NVGs picked up during our attempted rescue the other night. Those pirates are our pirates. I think they missed us.”
“How did they find us?” Darren said over the com.
“Who says they did?” Lake countered. “Maybe they’re just out looking for another target. And we happen to be the only suckers out here.”
“Doesn’t feel right,” Darby said.
“Well, not to copy Ditcher, since I’d rather drink my own pee, but how did they find us?” Max asked.
“That would be my fault,” Darby said, “I didn’t scan the hard drives.”
“No, we both scanned them,” Darren replied. “That’s how we got the geotag coordinates.”
“I mean I didn’t scan for bugs or tracking devices,” Darby said. “I would wager if you scanned them now, you’d find something that has led them right to us.”
“I count two RPGs,” Lucy said. “Is that what you’re seeing?”
“I see two now,” Shane replied, his eye to his scope, having taken Lucy’s .50 caliber with him. “But there were at least two more earlier. They must have gone below.”
“You sure they didn’t hand off the weapons?” Thorne asked.
“I’m sure,” Shane said. “You can check the footage. You’ll see. That makes a minimum of four RPGs.”
“Mr. Ballantine?” Darby asked. “Don’t you think it’s time the Team met the Toyshop?”
“It could be, Darby,” Mr. Ballantine said. “But I was hoping to wait until my colleagues had departed the ship.”
“Toyshop? What the fuck is that?” Thorne asked. “And why wait until the suits are gone?’
“Some of the items below are not sanctioned by the company,” Mr. Ballantine said. “They could possibly violate more than a few international arms treaties.”
“I like the sound of that,” Max said.
“Darby? You and Mr. Reynolds should return to the Beowulf II immediately,” Mr. Ballantine suggested. “Since there is no sign of Ms. Thorne or Mr. Jennings.”
“You want to tell them?” Shane asked.
“The man is your uncle,” Darby said, “you should tell them.”
“Tell us what?” Thorne asked. “What did you find?”
“At first we didn’t know what we were seeing,” Shane said. “Then we realized we were floating through debris. It was the Wiglaf. Looks like it took a rocket.”
“Fuck,” Thorne whispered.
“Even more reason to get back here,” Mr. Ballantine said. “We’ll need all hands on deck. Especially Team Grendel hands. Copy that, Darby?”
“Copy, sir,” Darby said.
“As do I,” Daacad’s voice interrupted over the com. “Hello, friends.”
A spot light flared to life from the stern of the ship, lighting up the Zodiac.
“You have impressive technology,” Daacad said. “But so do I. You should work on your communication encryption algorithm. It was painfully easy to break.”
“I got it,” Shane said. He squeezed the trigger and the spotlight went dark just as Darby scrambled to the motor controls and started to turn the Zodiac around.
“Please stay where you are,” Daacad said as another spotlight illuminated the Zodiac. “You are well in range of my rockets. And as you have seen, I have more than enough to blast you out of the water.”
“Ah, fuck,” Shane said, “what now?”
“Killing com, Darby,” Mr. Ballantine said, his voice cold.
“Understood,” Darby replied.
The com went dead in Shane and Darby’s ear. It cut off their communication with the Beowulf II, but it also cut communication with Daacad and his ship.
“So?” Shane asked. “What now? Options?”
“Run or don’t run,” Darby said.
“Run and we may get a rocket or two up our asses,” Shane said. “We could bail and last in this warm water for a long time. But…”
“But we’ve had a glimpse of what is in these waters,” Darby said. “Prehistoric or not, there are many predators below.”
“Okay, then don’t run and we let the pirates pick us up,” Shane said, “the company can pay our ransom.”
“First, we are expendable,” Darby said. “They will not pay ransom for anyone on the extraction Team. That was made clear in your contract.”
“Yeah, I saw that,” Shane said. “I was hoping it was a standard clause and might be overlooked.”
“The point of standard clauses is to avoid things being overlooked,” Darby said. “We will be on our own. But that isn’t the problem.”
“What is?” Shane asked. “I’d really like to hear this.”
“Normally, I’d say this was a revenge mission on the pirates’ part,” Darby said, “but that wouldn’t explain why they put a tracker in one of the hard drives. They knew we would come. Which means they were given a heads up.”
“A heads up?” Shane said. “You mean like a spy? What the fuck?”
“Do not attempt to flee!” a voice boomed from a bullhorn on the ship. “You will bring your boat to us! Steer to the starboard side and you will be brought aboard! Leave all weapons in the boat! If a weapon is seen in your hand you will be killed! Comply now or you will be killed!”
Darby adjusted course and aimed for the starboard side of the ship.
“So, not running?” Shane asked.
“No,” Darby said, “we need more intel on who is working with the pirates and why.”
“Can we call this a new mission?” Shane asked. “That is a way bigger boost to the ego than just being captured.”
“Tell yourself what you need,” Darby said, “but I have never been captured before and don’t intend to be now. I’m always in control.”
“I like the positive attitude,” Shane said as the Zodiac approached the side of the ship. “I can see why my brother wants to marry you.”
“Never going to happen,” Darby said.
“I keep telling him that,” Shane replied. “He’s not right for you. Me, on the other hand---”
“Never going to happen,” Darby said. “Shut up and get ready for the new mission. Keep your eyes and ears open. I’m relying on you to get as much intel as possible.”
The Zodiac came alongside the ship and two rope ladders were dropped from the rail.
“Take a hold of the ladders!” the bullhorn blared.
Shane reached for one and grabbed on, lifting up from the boat. Darby struggled to keep the Zodiac steady next to the moving ship. She sped up and kept one hand on the controls while reaching for a ladder with the other.
“Just hold it still!” Shane shouted. “I’ll grab on to you!”
The Zodiac slammed up and down on the ship’s wake and Darby lost her grip on the controls. She screamed as the boat slammed into the side of the ship then ran up the hull and flipped.
“Darby!” Shane cried. “DARBY!”
He dangled from the ladder, smacking against the side of the ship, as he searched the churning waters below for any sign of her. But she and the Zodiac were gone, lost under the ship, taken below by the pull of the water.
“Keep climbing or you will be shot!” the bullhorn screeched.
“Fuck you!” Shane shouted up at the rail.
He looked up, but could see nothing above as he was blinded by several high-powered flashlights. He thought about saying fuck it and dropping from the ladder, but a warning shot pushed that thought from his head. He realized he wanted to live. Plus, he had a new mission to accomplish: find out who sold out the Beowulf II and Team Grendel.
Whoever it was would pay dearly.
Chapter Eight: Bad Boys and Bad Toys
“Carlos, Ingrid, Moshi,” Mr. Ballantine said, “they are the elves of the Toyshop.”
“Don’t call it that,” Carlos said. Short, squat, with a thin, black Mohawk, the man stood at a caged in counter, his arms crossed against his flabby chest. He wore a stained t-shirt with a faded TMNT logo on it. “And we’re not elves.”
“Nice shirt,” Cougher said from the back of the group that Ballantine had brought down to meet the weapons specialists tucked away in the hidden armory. “That an original Eastman and Laird version?”
“Of course,” Carlos said. “I stopped reading the series when it went all afternoon cartoon and Archie blech.”
“Sweet,” Cougher said, then saw everyone looking back at him. “What? Fuck you guys.”
“Hey,” Ingrid said. She was tall, skinny, had long, bright (not natural) red pigtails that were braided up around the back of her head, and she wore a bright yellow jumpsuit. Her eyes were almost white they were so blue. “Welcome to the Toyshop. I like it to be called that. Makes it fun.”
Moshi, the third tech, stood almost directly behind Ingrid. Each time the tall woman shifted, Moshi matched her and stayed obscured. She peeked out a little and gave a small wave, then brushed the black bangs from her forehead and ducked back behind Ingrid.
“Moshi doesn’t talk,” Ingrid said, “like never ever. But her fingers are the most dexterous I have ever seen in a weaponsmith. Or, like anyone, not just weaponsmiths. But I’d have to say that weaponsmiths are the most dexterous of craftspeople. See how I said craftspeople? You’ll notice there’s only one guy here. And he can be a total---”
“Thank you, Ingrid,” Mr. Ballantine said, cutting her off, “but we are short on time.”
“We need heavy artillery that can handle pirates armed with RPGs,” Thorne said, standing next to Mr. Ballantine at the head of the group. Behind him were Darren, Max, Lucy, Bobby, and Cougher. “And we have only a couple hours before they get here.”
“You want counter artillery?” Carlos asked. “Are you looking to stop the rockets before they hit the B2? Or looking to take out the launchers at the source? First strike?”
“Whatever you can give us,” Thorne said.
“B2,” Max said, “it’s so much easier than saying Beowulf II all the time. B2. Wish I’d thought
of that.”
“Well, you didn’t,” Carlos grumbled, “I did. I call copyright.”
“Uh, okay,” Max said, “you have copyright. Good for you.” He looked over his shoulder at Lucy and Bobby and mouthed, “What the fuck?”
“Carlos has what you need, Commander Thorne,” Mr. Ballantine said. “I’ll leave you to work out the details.” He tapped his ear. “I am being called by Doctor Peterson. He has something interesting to tell me about our specimens.”
“Don’t you think there’s more important issues to deal with?” Thorne asked. “I’d say the science can wait.”
Mr. Ballantine just smiled and left the room.
“This is so cool,” Cougher said.
“Why are you here again?” Bobby asked him.
“I’m First Engineer now that Bach is dead,” Cougher frowned. “It’s my job to know about all of the equipment on the ship.”
“I don’t work for you,” Carlos said, pointing a finger towards Cougher. “I don’t work for anybody. This is my shop, what I say goes.”
“Shut up,” Thorne said, “both of you. I need firepower and I need it now. What have you got?”
“I’ll bring up some samples,” Carlos said.
“Can’t we just come back there?” Darren asked. “I am the Captain of the ship.”
“No,” Carlos said, “you’re captain of dick down here. My shop.”
“Just fucking hurry,” Thorne snarled, “or I’ll turn you into captain of dick. Captain of my dick up your ass!”
“Not sure who that insulted more, Uncle Vinny,” Max said, but shut right up when Thorne turned a deadly glare on him.
***
“Gunnar,” Mr. Ballantine said as he stepped into the main research lab, “what could be so urgent at this time?”
“Everything,” Gunnar said, his voice slightly cold. “I know we will have company shortly, but I thought I’d have a word with you before we possibly die.”
“We won’t be dying today, Gunnar,” Mr. Ballantine said, “or tomorrow or the next day. That’s why I hired Commander Thorne. He’ll keep us safe.”
“From who?” Gunnar asked. “Because I’m having trouble figuring out who the bad guys are?”