Behemoth 2

by Michael Cole

  “I think He heard you,” she said to Nelson.

  ********

  “We’ve got two bogies circling the boat,” one of the pilots spoke through the mic.

  “The boat appears to be taking on water,” another pilot said. “We do have a visual on the targets. Colonel, it’s your call.”

  The choppers held position, nearly one hundred meters above the water. Colonel Salkil was dressed in all black tactical gear, as was the entire contract crew among him. He looked down at the silver vessel, and the helpless souls aboard. The bow slanted slightly downward, taking on water faster than the stern. The waterline crept up over the gunwale and was just beginning to spill onto the deck. A minute, two at most, they would be submerged, and fully exposed to the predators that waited for them.

  The creatures circled the boat very closely. Their fins didn’t graze the surface, but they were close enough for their shadowy appearance to be seen from above. Tactically, it was a perfect advantage. Unleash a payload of missiles, and the nightmare would be done for good.

  The images of the yacht K McCartney, flashed within the Colonel’s memory. He remembered his most notorious moment in his career, of which very few knew about. A time when he sacrificed innocent lives in a fruitless attempt to protect others. It was one of the few moments that kept him awake at night, and the worst part was that it was for nothing. Now he found himself in the same predicament.

  “Sir, we have a clear shot! We can take them out right now!” another voice said through the comm. Salkil took a breath, needing to make a swift judgement. He stood between the two pilots. One had flipped a switch, arming the launchers. The boat and the surrounding water were locked on. The pilot had his gloved hand on the control stick, finger on the trigger.

  “Hendricks,” Salkil spoke into the comm. “My unit will take the lead and draw the creatures away with the 50. Cal. When we do, descend and pick up the passengers. We’ll regroup at the Pyramid.”

  “Sir?” Hendricks’ tone was both surprised and confused.

  “That’s the plan,” Salkil ordered. “Do it!”

  “Aye, aye,” Hendricks answered. Salkil could practically hear the unspoken thoughts going through the Commander’s mind. Saving these people would undoubtedly let them on to the plan. Perhaps the Colonel was growing soft in his old age. Maybe he was.

  ********

  “They’re coming,” Rick said as one of the choppers swooped down. He hurried to the doorway and began helping Nelson to try and pry apart the crumpled section of the wheelhouse. Meanwhile, Lisa couldn’t help but watch the choppers. Her fist instinctual reaction was pure joy at the sight of rescue. However, something was off. She couldn’t help but notice the type of choppers. Bell UH-1N Twin Hueys. Certainly not something the Coast Guard would deploy. Then there were the specifications. Black? Not a color used on these models by the Armed Forces, and another oddity was the armament. Each Huey was armed with 70 mm rocket pods. For a seaside rescue?

  “What the hell’s going on here?” she said to herself. The feeling of water rushing up to her ankles refocused her priorities. Sure, the situation seemed strange, but figuring that out could wait. The first chopper lowered itself until it was thirty feet above the water. Its nose pointed directly at the Neptune. Out of the starboard side, a gunner extended the 7.62 mm M240 lightweight machine gun toward the water. Multiple rounds peppered the water as the gunner opened fire on the visible shapes of the beasts.

  Bullets cut through the water only to smash against the rigid exoskeletons. As planned, they drew the attention of the creatures. The shapes turned toward the helicopter. The vertical gusts of wind from the rotating blades pounded the water beneath, causing further vibrations that gained interest from the approaching hybrids. The Huey banked left, leading the creatures away.

  Water poured over the sides as the Neptune gradually slipped beneath the waves. Rick grabbed a piece of metal which had broken from the crane’s footing when it was torn away. He shoved it into the small open space that was once the doorway and leaned to the side to pry the sides apart. There were no results other than the sound of scratching metal. Rick pressed harder. He felt motion, briefly fueling his determination until he realized it was the metal bar itself bending.

  “Damn it,” he cursed, throwing the bar to the deck. It splashed down in water that was now up to their shins. The climbing water level was like a counter for a time bomb, and there was no way to defuse it.

  They felt a huge gust of wind as the second Huey descended upon the boat. Even from inside the wheelhouse, Forster could feel the air surging in from the powerful blade rotations. Like a huge hummingbird, it hovered merely feet away from the now submerged gunwale. Water was now freefalling over the sides, and the deck was filling up rapidly. The Huey lined itself up parallel to the boat, and the side bay door opened. A man in black tactical gear waved them on over.

  “We don’t have all day,” he called out to them. Nelson turned and grabbed both Rick and Lisa by the shoulders.

  “Go! Get on the chopper, I’ll be right behind you!” he shouted over the heavy whirring.

  “But Chief, what about…” Rick started to protest.

  “Just go!” Nelson said. There was no time to argue. Rick and Lisa turned and moved toward the chopper. The gunner reached out, first taking Lisa by the hand and helping her board. Rick was quick to follow. Dripping wet, they moved into the compartment and took a seat, across from another ‘soldier’ dressed in black. Both noticed something immediately peculiar about him; the artificial right arm stood right out. Of course, neither were going to mention it. Their attention and worries were quickly refocused to their friends. The gunner looked over to Nelson.

  “Come on, pal! You’re wasting time!” he yelled out. Nelson ignored him, and proceeded to climb overtop of the wheelhouse, the only part of the Neptune currently above water.

  “There’s someone trapped in there!” Lisa said. The gunner shrugged nonchalantly.

  “Like I said, he’s wasting time,” he said. Both Lisa and Rick looked at him with disgust. Behind that disgust was a sense of hopelessness. All they could do was watch. The one-armed man said nothing as he waited for Nelson to make a move.

  The hybrids followed the vibrations along the surface, as countless sixty-caliber rounds crunched against their solid foreheads. The target was above the water, its black exterior easy to see against the bright sunlight. It remained out of reach, matching their speed with its retreat.

  Another vibration ignited sensory nerves within their lateral line. Water distortion coming from the target which they had abandoned. One of the hybrids slowed its pace, while the other one continued its pursuit. The first hybrid slowed to a near stop. It determined that this prey was no longer worth pursuing, and it turned to investigate the other. With a wave of its tail, it rushed back toward the Neptune.

  The gunner aboard the second Huey saw the fin graze the water as the shark turned away.

  “Oh, shit,” he said, and placed his microphone in front of his lips. “Raven 2, you have a bogie headed your way. We’re unable to intercept.”

  “Copy that, Raven One,” the pilot said. “Hey boss, we’ve got company!” The one-armed man stuck his head out the other side of the chopper. He looked past the tail rotors. The shape was under the surface, forming small swells as it raced toward them.

  “Climb!” he shouted and shut the door. The pilot pulled up on the stick, and the Huey quickly ascended. The hybrid lifted its head, snapping its jaws at the landing bar. The nose scratched the bottom of the chopper before splashing down. “Son-of-a-bitch,” the one-armed man said. He looked to Rick and Lisa. “Sorry kids, we can’t wait.”

  “You’ve got to,” Rick said.

  “They’re almost under,” he said. “We barely avoided being taken down ourselves. Sorry, but there’s no choice.”

  “Damn it, Joe! Just get on the chopper!” Forster suppressed tears as she yelled through the window. She could hear the Chief stomping about above
. Water was now rushing in through the broken doorway. The waterline was up to the windows, also bringing in further flooding. The water was now up to her chest.

  “What’s with the sudden obsession with my first name?” he called back. Forster shook her head.

  “It’s not funny!” she called back. “There’s no chance for me to get out. You just need to…”

  “I suggest you move as far to the front as possible!” he interrupted her. “Get away from the stern door.”

  “What are you talking abo—” she realized mid-sentence that the question was stupid and pointless. There was no time. She waded through the water. “Okay.” Several loud bursts nearly numbed her eardrums, joined by the metallic clanging at the door handle. There was the sound of busting latches as his bullets pierced the door handle. Next came loud banging sounds as he tried to kick the door in while hanging from the roof. The door opened inward a few inches. Forster saw the opportunity and splashed through the water. She yanked the door open the rest of the way and stepped out. Nelson reached down from the roof. They locked hands and he pulled her upward. Her feet touched the solid dry surface.

  Only it wasn’t dry for long. With the added weight of the water, the Neptune sank increasingly faster. Water already draped over the roof, already covering the tops of their feet. They felt the downward pull as they were riding the boat into the abyss. With the water up to their legs, they waved at the chopper.

  “Hey Boss, it looks like they got out,” one of the pilots said. The one-armed man turned to look. As he looked out the window, he was joined by Rick and Lisa who rushed beside him to look. The Neptune was completely submerged, only visible by its silhouette under the surface. On top of it, Nelson and Forster sank into the water, now up to their knees in water. The man sighed heavily, feeling the eyes of his passengers burning into his temple. More importantly, he remembered the Colonel’s instructions.

  “Take ‘er down,” he said. The pilots looked to each other, both reluctant to descend and make themselves vulnerable for another attack. But they had orders. They drove the chopper down, touching the landing gears to the water.

  Nelson and Forster squinted to see through the onslaught of wind that bombarded their eyes. The side bay door opened up, and the gunner reached out to both of them. Nelson grabbed Forster by the waist and lifted her up to the door, allowing the gunner to pull her inside. As soon as she set foot, she turned around to help pull him in.

  She saw the red dorsal fin, and a huge set of jaws racing toward the Chief.

  “JOE!” she cried out. Nelson saw the expression on her face, and dived for the landing rail, wrapping his arms around it. The chopper ascended and the shark raised its head. Its teeth passed by Nelson’s dangling feet like small machetes.

  “Ah! Damn it!” Nelson screamed out as he felt the slicing sensation of a tooth against his calf muscle. It ripped in a horizontal motion before he was pulled free, just before the jaws could close shut. Dangling dozens of meters above the surface, he squeezed his arms as tightly as possible, ignoring the piercing pain in his leg.

  Rick and the gunner both reached down, grabbing him by the wrists. Nelson slowly eased his grip to allow them to pull him up. For a moment, he was completely at their mercy.

  “Don’t…you fucking…drop me!” he called out as he felt himself dangling from their grasps. They pulled him inside and shut the door. The feeling of dry, solid metal underneath him couldn’t have felt more welcoming. Nelson caught his breath, as Forster embraced him with a sudden and emotional hug.

  Lisa sank down into the seat, struggling to calm her nerves as well. Her mind returned to the black uniforms and the unconventional specifications to the choppers. She looked at the one-armed man. No way would active duty military be operating with such an injury, at least not at this type of job.

  The one-armed man noticed her staring at him. His glare clearly indicated that he didn’t appreciate it. He tapped his metal arm.

  “You know, my mother taught me that it’s not polite to stare,” he remarked.

  “Who are you people?” Lisa asked. The man tilted his head.

  “We’re the ones you should be saying ‘thank you’ to,” he said.

  “Thank you,” she said. “Now, who the hell are you people?”

  “Lisa,” Rick stepped in.

  “Rick, they’re not military!” She raised her voice. Rick paused, recalling the events three years ago, when they were snatched by contract mercenaries to pursue the first hybrid. He looked at the man. At that moment, a voice blared over the radio.

  “Raven Two. Have you acquired the passengers?”

  The man touched his mic, looking bitterly at the passengers, “Safe and sound. You want me to make them hot cocoa?”

  “Knock it off,” the voice said. “We lost track of the bogies. Go ahead and regroup at the Pyramid.”

  “Copy that,” he said, and took a seat. Rick kneeled on the floor, helping the gunner apply a bandage to Nelson’s leg. Lisa and the man seemed to have a staring contest as they sat opposite each other.

  “What’s the Pyramid?” she asked.

  CHAPTER

  38

  “Bravo-Two-Nine, we are on approach,” the pilot spoke into the microphone.

  “Roger, you’ll need to stand by a moment. We’re finishing up refueling for Raven One.”

  “Copy. Standing by.” The forward momentum ceased and the chopper came to a stop, seemingly bouncing in the wind as it held position. Lisa and Rick pressed their right temples to the starboard window, looking down at the Pyramid.

  “Holy shit,” Rick said. They were looking down at a naval ship, roughly two-hundred-and-thirty feet in length. Its beam appeared to be slightly under forty feet. A Melara 76mm gun was mounted on the bow deck. On each side of the mast were Rheinmetall MLG machine guns. In the large structure in the center of the ship were compartments meant for containing French Exocet anti-ship missiles. “You guys brought a friggin’ battleship?” Rick asked.

  “Not quite a battleship,” Lisa said. She looked to the lettering above the port bow waterline. The words were written in Arabic. “This isn’t our Navy. It’s a Baynunah-class corvette. Used by the United Arab Emirates Navy.”

  “Wait…” Nelson said, straightening himself up in the seat. He looked to the one-armed man. “You brought a foreign Navy ship here?” The man didn’t answer.

  “It’s decommissioned, isn’t it?” Lisa said. The man looked to her, then back at the window. It was as close to a Yes as she would get. Nelson shook his head.

  “How the hell would they get a…”

  “They planned a scheme through the black market,” Rick interrupted. After his experiences, he had a basic understanding of how conspiracies worked. “Odds are, they got the armaments through an underground supplier. And somehow, they were able to acquire the funds to get the Corvette.”

  The conversation stopped as the chopper began to dip. It angled downward slightly and moved toward the aft helicopter deck. Forster stood up from her seat next to Nelson and looked out the window. The blades on the other Huey were starting to rotate, and a man in black was walking away from the bay door. The helicopter lifted off the deck and moved away, making clear the space for the approaching aircraft.

  The landing was swift and smooth. The whishing sound from the blades took on a whistling sound as they slowed. The landing bars touched the deck, and the engine quieted down to a slight rattle. The pilots stayed in their seats to make checks while the one-armed man opened the door.

  “Okay, kids, you may step out,” he said. Lisa was the first to touch her feet to the deck. Several men in black and grey tactical outfits walked onto deck, gathering with the man who had stepped off Raven One. Corvettes were smaller warships, and she wondered how they managed to get it into U.S. territory, especially with the heightened alert following the oil rig explosion. Rick and Forster helped Nelson off of the chopper as the one-armed man stepped ahead.

  “I’m fine,” the Chief said,
removing his arms from the shoulders of his friends. There was bitterness in his voice, though not directed at Julie. His weapon and radio had been confiscated by the mercenaries. They think I’m planning to hijack this ship? He balanced mainly on his right leg and took a step with his other. The nerves lit up like a holiday festival, and he yelped. Forster hurried back to him, and he reluctantly allowed her to take on some of his weight. “Okay, maybe not,” he said.

  Rick noticed the man from the other chopper. He wore a black ball cap matching the tactical outfit. He turned around and locked eyes with Napier. Memories flashed, and he suddenly felt as if his blood pressure was boiling, as Rick was face-to-face with Colonel Salkil.

  “Mr. Napier,” the Colonel said, also surprised at the meeting. “Fancy seeing you here!”

  “You!” Rick snarled. He started marching toward the Colonel, each step resulting in a clang against the metal deck. The one-armed man turned and rammed his remaining fist into Rick’s gut. Rick doubled over and fell to his knees, holding his stomach. Lisa rushed over to him. “I’m all right,” he said, still catching his breath.

  “Be nice, Hendricks,” Salkil said to the one-armed mercenary. Hendricks shook his hand at the wrist, then backed away. Salkil stepped up to Rick and Lisa. As she helped him to his feet, Salkil noticed the wedding rings on both of their left hands. “I suppose congratulations is in order.”

  “Go to hell,” Rick said.

  “Not a nice way to say thank you,” Salkil said. “Especially not to someone who made you a millionaire. Did it buy you a fancy wedding?”

  “We went to the courthouse,” Rick remarked. Forster listened to the conversation, noticing that the Colonel and the Napiers knew each other.

  “What is this?” she asked.

  “It’s him,” Rick said as he walked away from the Colonel. Lisa stayed behind.

  “The Colonel who helped cover up the first incident,” she clarified.