Sea Raptor: A Deep Sea Thriller

by John J. Rust

  Rastun got to his feet. His chest clenched when he spotted Karen, along with Geek, by the boat’s stern, the monster bearing down on them. He drew his Glock and fired. Maybe he could distract it.

  The monster kept after Karen and Geek.

  Geek fired another useless blast from his shotgun. He then grabbed a hatch on the deck and threw it open. Karen slid through it, followed by Geek.

  “Geek! Look out!”

  The Point Pleasant Monster lunged at him.

  Geek dropped through the hatch just as the monster’s jaws snapped closed, missing his head by inches. The monster shoved its snout through the opening, its hands banged and scratched the deck.

  Rastun balled his fists. He had no dart gun, his Glock was useless. How the hell was he going to stop this thing?

  Dumbass! He looked down at his tactical vest, where the flash/bang grenades hung.

  Rastun grabbed one and maneuvered around the remains of the bridge. He pulled the pin on the black, cylindrical device. The grenade was better suited for use in a confined space, not outdoors.

  But right now it was all he had.

  Parts of the deck around the hatch caved in. The Point Pleasant Monster continued to pound and tear its way into the engine room where Karen and Geek had fled.

  Rastun threw the grenade. It bounced across the deck. He turned away, closed his eyes and covered his ears.

  The grenade detonated with a snare drum crack. Tremors went through the deck. Rastun opened his eyes and turned. The monster hissed and stomped around.

  Another flash/bang flew out of the hatch. That had to be from Geek. Again Rastun turned away.

  The grenade exploded. The monster spun furiously, no doubt blinded by the one million candela flash and deaf from the concussive blast. It tumbled over the stern and hit the water with a huge splash.

  Rastun rushed to the stern. He saw a wake moving away from Bold Fortune. Within seconds, it dissipated.

  He slid through the hatch into the engine room. Karen and Geek stood at the other end of the short corridor. She hurried over and threw her arms around him. Rastun hugged her tight and kissed the top of her head.

  “You two all right?” he asked.

  Geek replied, “After this, I’d feel a lot better with a few beers in me.”

  “I’m okay,” Karen said, then let out a small gasp. “Jack, you’re bleeding.”

  Rastun examined his arms. Blood trickled from several small cuts. He ran his right hand over his face. It came away with a couple smears of blood.

  “Flying glass. I’ll be fine. C’mon, let’s check on the others.”

  He led them out of the engine room and up to the salon. Ehrenberg, Malakov, Pilka, Montebello, Tamburro and Hernandez were all present.

  “Where’s Captain Keller?” asked Rastun.

  Tamburro hung his head. He swore the big, hairy man looked like he was about to cry.

  Ehrenberg’s shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry, Jack.” He turned to the small stairway leading to the bridge.

  Rastun went up the steps and looked into the wreckage of the bridge. His jaw tightened when he saw Keller. His body had been crushed to a pulp. Both arms were twisted at unnatural angles. His head had been split apart. Blood covered what remained of the helm.

  Rastun went back down to the salon and walked up to Tamburro. “Can you shut down the engines?”

  “What?” The engineer was in a daze, probably thinking of Keller’s gruesome death.

  “Mister Tamburro! Focus. The helm is destroyed. We have no way to steer. If anything’s in our way, we can’t avoid it. Now can you shut down the engines?”

  “Um, yeah. Yeah, I can.”

  Tamburro plodded out of the salon. Ehrenberg watched him go, then took out his satellite phone. “I’ll contact the Coast Guard and have them come get us.”

  Geek scowled at his shotgun. “This is bullshit! These rounds shoulda blown holes in that thing the size of the Holland Tunnel.”

  “The toxin dart worked for shit, too,” said Rastun.

  A minute later, the engines fell silent. Bold Fortune slowed, then drifted along the waves.

  “Geek.” Rastun looked to him. “You and me, back up on deck. We need to keep an eye out for the monster in case it comes back.”

  Rastun took up position along the port side, scanning the ocean, a grenade in his hand. He couldn’t believe the monster was immune to sabot rounds and frog toxin. Either one should have killed it.

  So why didn’t they?

  Something else bothered him. Rastun had only been a few feet from the Point Pleasant Monster when he shot it with his last dart. He had been close, he had been defenseless. He would have made an easy meal.

  So why didn’t the monster eat him?

  TWENTY

  Ever since his time in the Army, Rastun had mastered the art of falling asleep soon after he closed his eyes. Such a skill had been necessary. You could be operating in the field for 18, 20, even 24 hours a day, for days and weeks at a time. Every minute of sleep you could steal became precious.

  He expected sleep to come easy after such a long day. The Coast Guard had sent a cutter to tow Bold Fortune to USCG Station Barnegat Light. As soon as they docked, they were swarmed by reporters. Thankfully, Ehrenberg dealt with their questions. Next came a lengthy debriefing with the FUBI brass via conference call. When they finished, they had a quick meal at the station’s mess hall and checked into a hotel.

  Rastun turned to the clock radio on the nightstand. It was a little after midnight. He groaned and went back to staring at the darkened ceiling. No matter how hard he tried, sleep would not come. He couldn’t stop thinking about the Point Pleasant Monster’s attack.

  Geek had hit it with at least ten sabot rounds. Rastun nailed it with a toxin dart. So why hadn’t the monster died? Could it have some sort of resistance to toxins, like mongooses or hedgehogs? Even if it did, he doubted any animal on earth had a hide thick enough to stop an armor-piercing sabot round.

  Defective rounds? Rastun didn’t think so. He’d heard of Aster Technologies long before Geek worked for them. The company had an excellent reputation in military and law enforcement circles.

  So what then? Why couldn’t they kill it?

  Why couldn’t he save Captain Keller?

  He recalled Keller’s crushed and bloodied body. It wasn’t the first time he’d lost men. It never got easier.

  Rastun thought about the tranquilizer darts he’d fired at the monster. He hit it with his first shot. Looking back on it, he figured the needle didn’t penetrate the armor plating that ran down its back. He would have hit it with his other shot had the monster not crashed through the bridge just before he fired.

  Who’s to say the tranq would have worked quickly?

  Who’s to say it wouldn’t have?

  One dead, but eight saved. He had to take consolation in that fact.

  It could have been two dead if…

  He turned to Karen. She lay next to him, her shoulders rising and falling with slow, steady breaths as she slept. How close had she come to ending up like Keller?

  A jolt of fear went through him. Fear of what could have happened to her, of what might happen to her if they encountered the Point Pleasant Monster again.

  And if something happened to her, if I let something happen to her…

  Rastun ran two fingers along Karen’s shoulder. She moaned and shifted under the blankets.

  His cell phone rang.

  Rastun looked at the screen. It was Geek.

  “What is it?” he asked as Karen rolled over, her eyes cracking open.

  “I need to see you, Cap’n. Now.”

  Rastun noted the serious tone in the former sergeant’s voice. “What for?”

  “Meet me in my room. I’ll tell you when you get here.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  He hit the end button and got out of bed.

  “Jack? Where are you going?” Karen mumbled.

  “Geek wants to see me.”
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  Karen looked at the clock radio. “Now? Why?”

  “I don’t know, but it sounded important.”

  Rastun got dressed, kissed Karen on the cheek and left. He strode down the second floor walkway to Geek’s room and knocked on the door. Geek opened it, his face a tight, serious mask.

  “That is not a good look from you, Sergeant.”

  Geek nodded. “Come in.”

  Rastun heard “White Room” coming from the clock radio. He turned to Geek as he shut the door.

  “I didn’t know you were a Cream fan.”

  “Just being careful in case we’ve got bug problems, if you catch my drift.”

  Rastun furrowed his brow. “All right, I give. What’s with the cloak and dagger stuff?”

  Geek went over to a table where five shotgun shells laid. Two had been taken apart. He picked up one of the intact ones. “See this?”

  “Yeah. It’s a shell from your shotgun.”

  “That’s what I thought, until I took some of them apart.” Geek put down the shell and grabbed a sliver dart, the actual sabot round removed from its casing.

  “Give this a feel.” Geek threw him the dart. Rastun looked it over and closed his palm around it.

  “What the hell? It’s rubber.”

  “Yeah. I checked out ten different shells. They’re all like that.”

  “No wonder you couldn’t kill the monster.” Rastun looked at the fake sabot dart, then back to Geek. “How the hell could we have gotten blanks? Did someone at Aster screw up?”

  “No way. I checked the ammo myself before I left. It was good. The only thing I can think of is somebody switched it after I got here.”

  “You know what you’re implying?”

  “Yeah. I do.”

  Rastun stared at the dart, barely able to believe it.

  Someone in the group intentionally sabotaged their weapons.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Despite the late hour, Rastun didn’t hesitate in calling Colonel Lipeli. Both had been rousted out of bed for alerts and drills plenty of times during their Ranger days. Given what he and Geek just discovered, he knew his former CO wouldn’t mind being awakened.

  “Geek, you’re sure you didn’t take blanks with you by accident when you left Aster?” asked Lipeli.

  “Absolutely not,” Geek replied into Rastun’s cell phone, which lay on the hotel room’s table on speaker mode. “We clearly mark our live ammo and our blanks.”

  “I didn’t think you’d make a mistake like that. So, where did they come from and how did they get into your magazine?”

  Rastun answered, “I don’t know about the how part. Whenever Geek’s not carrying the shotgun, it’s secured in the weapons locker. Only four people had the code for it. Me, Geek, Doctor Ehrenberg and Captain Keller, and he’s dead.”

  “It’s not like you can buy these sort of blanks at a gun store or online,” Geek explained. “Someone had to actually make ‘em.”

  “Is anyone on the expedition capable of doing that?” asked Lipeli.

  Rastun shook his head. “The only people on this expedition with any military experience, besides us, are Nick Tamburro and Captain Keller. Well, who were on this expedition in Keller’s case. Still, both were ex-Navy and spent most of their time on ships. I’d be surprised if either one of them has fired a weapon since basic.”

  “And I doubt any of our scientists or our photographer have experience when it comes to making ammo,” said Lipeli. “That can only mean one thing. Whoever replaced your ammo is getting help from the outside.”

  Rastun let out a slow breath. This had gone from an act of sabotage to a damn conspiracy. His gaze shifted to the window and the drawn down blinds. He wondered if someone could be observing them right now. Had someone been spying on them from day one?

  We’re going to have to be a lot more careful from now on. That might sound paranoid, but as he learned in Iraq and Afghanistan, a healthy dose of paranoia helped keep you alive.

  “Any idea who could be behind this?” he asked Lipeli.

  “We’ve gotten phone calls, emails, tweets and Facebook posts from more than a dozen animal rights and environmental groups demanding we not kill the monster. It could be one of them. It could be a group we don’t even know about.”

  “So how the hell did they smuggle the blanks onboard Bold Fortune?” asked Geek.

  There was a noticeable pause before Lipeli answered, “The only thing I can think of is the switch had to take place when you were docked overnight.”

  Rastun felt his anger building. He was responsible for the security of this expedition, and someone had slipped onto the boat and replaced the shotgun shells right under his damn nose!

  “So I guess now we have to ask who’s the most likely candidate to be our mole.” Geek looked at Rastun. “And why would they switch my shells with blanks?”

  “The why is easy. The Point Pleasant Monster has to be one of the rarest animals on the planet. A lot of animal rights groups would go to any length to keep it alive. As for the who, you want to take a guess which person is at the top of my list?”

  “Good ol’ Doctor Malakov.”

  Lipeli sighed. “I knew it was a mistake to put her on the team. She was much too radical for my tastes. But Doctor Ehrenberg has been friends with her for years, and she has some impressive credentials.”

  “She’s just not a real team player,” said Rastun.

  “No argument here.” Lipeli paused. “Still, our personal feelings don’t count for anything. We need proof.”

  “How do we get it?” asked Rastun. “Call the cops?”

  “A police investigation is bound to leak to the press. We’re already getting hammered by them for our inability to catch the Point Pleasant Monster. No, we need to do this covertly. That means bringing in someone the three of us can trust and who has the skills to conduct this kind of investigation.”

  Rastun stared up at the ceiling. Who would fit that bill? Someone he, Geek and Colonel Lipeli knew and trusted. It had to be a fellow Ranger, one that went into law enforcement after leaving the Army.

  One man came to mind.

  Rastun looked to Geek, who shot him a knowing smile.

  “Looks like you just read my mind, Sergeant.”

  ***

  “So what did Geek want?” Karen asked when Rastun returned to their room.

  “He had some ideas about how to deal with the monster if we run into again. Aster might have some more equipment that can help us.”

  The answer seemed to satisfy Karen. Much as he wanted to tell her the truth, Colonel Lipeli made it clear that everything about the FUBI mole and the blanks was to be compartmentalized between the former Rangers. Rastun wasn’t about to blab about it to anyone else. Rangers took operational security very seriously.

  The next morning, Rastun and Karen lounged in bed for a while before getting up to do their exercises and go on a run. With Bold Fortune out of commission, there was no reason for them to rise early.

  They put in five miles before returning to the hotel, showering and eating breakfast. Karen got on her laptop and updated the photo gallery on the FUBI’s Facebook page. Rastun cleaned his Glock and his knives. He was always mindful of the time. His appointment with Colonel Lipeli’s special investigator was set for 1130.

  When 1030 rolled around, Rastun got up and said to Karen, “I’m going to get Geek and go on a supply run.”

  “A supply run? What for? We’re stuck here.”

  “Not indefinitely. Hopefully we’ll be back out to sea soon. Might as well get ready. You want me to get you anything while I’m out?”

  “I’ll take a raspberry iced tea and a couple of protein bars.”

  Rastun nodded. “You got it. I’ll be back soon.”

  He kissed Karen and headed out the door.

  After getting Geek, the two started out for the local grocery store, two-and-a-half miles from their hotel. Just a brisk walk to a pair of Rangers.

  A salty scent hung in t
he air as they passed several suburban neighborhoods with some small businesses sprinkled among them. Side streets ended at the beachfront to the west and Manahawkin Bay to the east. Several times Rastun led Geek up and down those streets. He took furtive glances over his shoulder, checked car windows and side mirrors, and looked into storefront windows. Given what he learned last night, he wanted to make sure no one was following them.

  Again, a little paranoia could help keep you alive.

  Rastun didn’t spot anyone suspicious. Luckily, it was late morning on a weekday. The sidewalks weren’t very crowded. Most people would be at work, and the Point Pleasant Monster kept most tourists away. If anyone was tailing them, he should have been able to spot them.

  The grocery store was part of a small block of businesses. Unlike the large chain stores in their utilitarian rectangular buildings, this store, with its white wood siding and green trim, had a quaint, small town feel to it. The sort of place locals came to shop, dine and converse.

  Rastun took one final look around. Again, he saw no one suspicious. He turned back to the store, where several white plastic tables shaded by umbrellas were set up along the side. He smiled when he saw a tall black man with a solid build sitting at one table. The man held up a glass of iced tea and nodded to them.

  “Great to see you again, Sherlock,” said Rastun.

  “Likewise, sir,” replied Arthur “Sherlock” Dunmore.

  Rastun felt ten times better with the former staff sergeant on hand. Sherlock had been with the 16th Military Police Airborne Brigade for three years before joining the Rangers. Upon leaving the Army two years ago, he joined the U.S. Marshals Service. Like his fictional namesake, Sherlock was intelligent, observant and meticulous.

  The perfect man to get to the bottom of this conspiracy.

  “Marshal Dunmore.” Geek slapped Sherlock on the arm. “So where’s your cowboy hat and tin star?”

  “Does this look like the Old West to you?”

  Geek just grinned as he sat down.

  Rastun also took a seat. “How did Colonel Lipeli pull you out of the Marshals Service to help us out?”

  “It wasn’t so much the Colonel as it was your benefactor, Roland Parker. Apparently he’s good friends with the Marshals Service Director. They belong to the same health club. Mister Parker put a call in to the director, and here I am.”