by Michael Cole
With another swipe of its tail, the creature was on them. Jaws bit onto the Zodiac, slicing into the bow. It reared its snout toward the sky, spilling the four mercenaries inside into the back of its throat. Hendricks saw nothing but black as the jaws slammed shut like bay doors. He reached for anything he could grab, but there was nothing except the wet, slithery flesh of its throat. The beast that swallowed his arm three years prior had finally finished that meal.
Salkil watched the creature spit the smashed Zodiac vessel. It was a déjà vu of the worst sort. Once again, he was inside a chopper, watching the hybrid weapon do battle against three Zodiac crews who were no match for it. Only this time, the beast was a hundred-fifty-feet long, and with its incredibly thick shell, it had to weigh close to a million pounds.
“We need to hit it with everything we’ve got,” he said. He clicked his transmitter. “Aim the Melara and smoke this thing!” He then put his hand on the pilot’s shoulder. “Fire the rockets when ready.”
The pilot pointed the chopper at a downward angle. The shark moved gradually, sizing up the Pyramid. Unlike three years ago, it was not going to be intimidated by the large mechanical enemy.
Missiles whooshed from the pods. Balls of flame erupted along the shark’s back. The pilot continued firing. More missiles rained down, finding their target below.
The Pyramid’s gun fired off several shots, sending shockwaves through the deck. Explosions rained all over the huge shark. Salkil stuck his head out the open bay door. He could see the hybrid through the billowing smoke. It was moving, unfazed by the bombardment. The shell was completely intact.
The creature felt nothing other than pressure and heat from the assault. Its senses were heightened. It had studied the larger, artificial ‘creature’ in the water. The vibrations from the cannon going off was like a heartbeat. The beast considered it a challenger and an enemy. Its tail pounded the water, launching it forward. Its eyes rolled back.
“Brace for impact!” someone yelled on the bridge. The warship shook as it was knocked back several meters. Everyone on the bridge fell to the floor. Emergency lights flashed.
The leading mercenary scrambled to his feet. “Keep firing!”
Rick and Lisa both lay on their stomachs. They looked to each other. They thought the same thing. They sprang to their feet and ran out of the bridge. As they ran through the corridor, the ship was hit again. The impact came from the starboard side. The hallway rotated to the left, and suddenly Rick and Lisa found themselves running at the corner between the wall and the floor. The hall rotated back as the ship settled.
They exited through the hangar doors. They looked around for any lifejackets. Water sprayed on deck as the Behemoth grazed the stern with its left pectoral fin. At first, Rick saw the creature circling the ship in a tight pattern, possibly exercising a strategy of slicing an enemy with its spines. Then he saw the caudal fin cocked back, like the hammer to a revolver. As if a trigger was depressed, the tail swung back, slamming into the side of the Pyramid. The warship went into a spin, and the Napiers were once again on their hands and knees.
The Huey fired a rocket, landing a shot right overtop the creature’s head. A cloud of smoke briefly consumed the landing pad and hangar. When it cleared, Rick could see the creature hooking back, trying to get at the chopper. It wasn’t hurt, but it was frustrated, unable to snatch the aerial opponent.
It lifted its head, unable to gain the height it needed. The Huey went in reverse. Another missile was fired, landing directly on its nose. The beast shook its head, getting the burning smell of smoke out of its nostrils. The shell was undamaged.
The warship settled, with the beast now being on the starboard side. Rick and Lisa looked at the huge red creature as it chased Salkil’s chopper. They looked at the crates, believing them to hold supplies. Before they stepped forward, two life jackets landed on the deck in front of them, as if dropped by the heavens. Rick and Lisa turned and looked upward. Standing on top of the hangar were Forster and Nelson, both wearing lifejackets and equally convinced the Pyramid would not survive the assault.
The whirring mechanical sound of the Melara cannon screamed through the air. The weapon turned on its rotator and fired off a burst of six blasts. The shells hit the creature along its back, doing nothing more than gaining its attention. It turned around, smashing several rocks with a swipe of its tail. The cannon rained more hell, raining shots on its head.
The beast gained speed. Water rolled in huge swells as the creature heaved its mass toward the enemy.
Forster saw the huge mass draw close. She sucked in a breath, just as the creature’s snout punched through the steel hull. Barely maintaining his balance, Rick shoved his wife up the ladder. He secured the clip on his lifejacket and swiftly followed her up. Looking to the starboard side, he could see the swirling water to the starboard side. The shark had pulled away, and the ocean was racing to fill the breach. New alarms rang throughout the ship.
Watertight doors activated, sealing off the lower compartments, while pumps got to work on reducing flooding.
As Lisa stepped up onto the upper deck, they felt the Melara gun blasting away again. The shark rammed the bow. The bow heaved as the ship was forced backward. A surge of water flooded the landing pad and lower decks. The shark moved away, leaving the bow of the ship crunched. Water raced through the new breaches, forming small rivers traveling through the ship. The deck had upheaved, pressing thousands of pounds of steel into the Melara gun. Gears groaned as the rotator tried to turn, but it was wedged in place. The aiming mechanism was disabled.
The Pyramid rocked to and fro. Mercenaries abandoned their stations and started climbing toward the upper deck. Forster looked at the waterline. It was steadily climbing.
The port Rheinmetall MLG machine gun blasted the water. Forster followed its aim, seeing the Behemoth making another run at the ship, coming in from a hundred yards out.
It submerged, leaving behind a mountain of settling water. The mercenary ceased fire, losing his visual of the target. He stood up from the mount for a better look.
A wall of water skyrocketed. The Behemoth breached the water, completely airborne. Its huge body cast a shadow over the ship for less than a moment before it came crashing down. The gunner let out a scream before being smashed by the creature’s rigid underside. Steel splintered all across the ship. The radar tower smashed, and the whole middle of the ship bent inward into a V-shape. The force of the landing catapulted everyone standing atop the vessel several feet into the air.
Forster landed on her side in a fetal position. Her shoulder and hip ached. Fighting through the pain, she lifted her head. Rick and Lisa had landed several feet toward the center of the deck. Less than thirty feet away was the enormous red mass. Its eye opened, revealing a black circle the size of a boulder. She froze at the very sight of the creature.
The Behemoth lay across the ship. Its tail swung in midair, past the edge of the ship. It lifted its head, allowing space for its front legs to unfold from its underside. The pointed tips at the end of the legs pierced into the deck, and the hybrid propped itself up.
Forster stood up, scanning the deck for Nelson. He was nowhere to be seen. Rick and Lisa hurried to the ladder, ready to climb back down to the helideck. They stopped after seeing it was completely flooded. The weight of the beast was pushing the already sinking ship further beneath the waves. The waterline was halfway to the upper deck and climbing.
“Joe!” Forster called. Her voice was lost in the chaotic uproar of yelling mercenaries, exploding bulkheads, swirling water, and smashing steel.
“Over here,” his voice called out. She scanned the deck again, still not seeing him. She hurried to the side, finding the Chief getting tossed about in the thrashing waves below.
“Oh god!” She got on her stomach and extended her hand. “Grab onto me! I’ll pull you up!”
Rick and Lisa gathered by her. The downdraft of the chopper drew his attention behind him. The Huey had descended
. The rocket pods, half empty, were aimed at the creature’s head.
“Actually, we don’t want to be up here!” he said. He grabbed Forster by the vest, tossed her into the water, and immediately splashed down behind her. Rockets exploded from above. Protected by the bulk of the ship, all four of them floated to the top.
The shark torqued its body, no longer interested in the defeated foe. It tucked its spider-like legs underneath its belly. Its tail swiped the ruins of the ship, sending several mercenaries into the air like golf balls. It slid into the water like a snake. Water rolled away, making way for the huge mass that re-entered.
Forster sucked in a breath. The surge swept her and her friends away. She felt herself lifted, then smashed down as the wave rolled. In seconds, she was twenty feet down, twisting about in the water.
The Huey hovered to the north, keeping its nose pointed at the target. Staying many dozens of meters ahead of it, the pilots backtracked the Huey.
Salkil stood between the pilots, never taking his eyes off the monster. “How many missiles do we have left?”
“Ten in total,” the co-pilot said.
“Keep it following us,” he said. “We must draw it to the north. The Navy will be moving in from there. Get on the radio and contact the USS Carnahan and USS Donovan and inform them of the situation. The co-pilot clicked a few switches. He fumbled with the radio dial.
“Sir, they’re operating on a secure frequency,” he said. “We don’t have their channel.” Salkil hissed. His anger was directed at the situation, not the merc. There was only one way to contact the Navy; to place a direct call to the Naval Command Center in Georgia. Doing so would confirm his presence at the scene, a scene at which he was not supposed to be present.
But the Navy was looking for a warship and had no knowledge of the hybrid. They had to be warned, or else many sailors would certainly perish.
“Alright, Napier, you win,” he said. He made the call.
CHAPTER
42
Whirlpools twisted around the ship where water was filling the interior. Random bursts occurred as enormous air bubbles ruptured, making space for more water to make its way in. The alarms died as water fried the circuits. Only the red interior emergency lights functioned, casting a red glow beneath the waves.
Forster broke the surface and inhaled a deep breath. She had never been so grateful for lifejackets any more than this moment. Being thrashed about in the waves left her exhausted and disoriented. Resting her head on the shoulder of the lifejacket, she rested calmly, rising and falling with each wave. One grew gentler than the last, as the source had moved north. After she caught her breath, her ears detected the sounds of screaming all around.
She lifted her head, seeing the bubbling water in front of her. The ship had completely submerged. A huge echoing thud thundered beneath her. The Pyramid had hit the bottom. A few mercenaries splashed about, three at the most. The dead ones floated in the distance.
Scanning the water, she saw a hand waving at her. It was Nelson, floating maybe two hundred feet away. She summoned what strength she had and began paddling. Her muscles burned with each stroke, but she eventually reached him. Nelson was waving in another direction. Forster stopped for a moment and saw Rick and Lisa swimming over from different directions.
They gathered together in a tight group. Thunderous metal creaks continued reverberating down below. Forster clung to the Chief, partially out of sheer exhaustion.
“You alright?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she said. She noticed his pained wincing. “You?” It was suddenly obvious. The saltwater was seeping in through his bandages and stinging the hell out of his leg wound.
“I’ll be fine,” he said. He looked around. Bits of debris floated about, but nothing buoyant enough to hold an adult. He looked to the rocks. “Well, I don’t see any choice but to swim toward the atoll.”
“Can you make it?” Rick asked.
“Only if a couple of you won’t mind dragging me along,” he said. Rick and Forster each tucked an arm under him, and started paddling, with Lisa leading the way. They only made a few strokes when Lisa stopped, perking her head as high as possible.
“Hey, honey...we don’t have time to…”
“Hang on, Rick,” she said. He heard it too. A boat engine. He looked toward the island. Two fishing boats raced toward them. They raised their hands in unison.
The first fishing boat came to a stop nearby. The Captain quickly stepped to the starboard side of the stern deck. He kneeled at the ladder and extended his hand.
“Swim on over!” he called out. They hadn’t bothered waiting for the invite. Forster climbed up first. She stood on wobbly legs, yanking off the life vest. She looked at the man to thank him but paused after recognizing him. It was the bearded man from the bar last night. He smiled. “Hello ma’am. Glad to see you again,” he said.
“You’re glad?” she said with a smile. Rick and Lisa helped Nelson up on deck. All of them collapsed to their knees, the energy seeping from their bodies. The other boat pulled up alongside theirs. Forster recognized the fisherman aboard. It was Jeffrey.
“You folks alright? What the hell happened?”
“Long story,” she said. Her eyes went to the surviving mercenaries struggling in the water. “Hey, would you pick them up?” Jeffrey gave a thumbs up and throttled his boat. Forster turned to the fisherman with the long grey beard. “I never got your name.”
“Phillip,” he answered.
“Well, Phillip, thanks.”
“Don’t mention it,” he said. “Gee, when you said you were shark hunting, you weren’t playing around.”
“You saw it?” Lisa asked.
“Are you kidding?” he said. “The whole side of the island had to have seen it. What the hell is that thing?”
“Isurus Palinuridae,” Rick said as he stood back up. “Think of a shark with the shell of a lobster, only bigger and meaner. A lovely gift from our government, meant to be used as a weapon.”
“Only this one’s a hell of a lot bigger!” Nelson said. “Now we know what happened to those fishing trawlers. How the hell is it so huge?!”
“My guess, they used an accelerated growth process. Probably a new experimental one. And it just never stopped. As the hybrid remained hidden for the past few years, it kept growing.”
“Yeah, and obviously its shell thickened in the process,” Forster said. “Explosives didn’t even scratch it.”
“Hot damn,” Phillip said. “Well, this isn’t the kind of fishing I’m familiar with. How do you kill something like that?”
“Who knows? I’m still getting over the fact that the other ones we were dealing with all this time were BABIES,” Nelson said. “Hell, killing them was damn near impossible. Don’t know how anyone will manage a friggin’ fifteen story shark.”
Jeffrey’s boat started back toward them after picking up the three surviving mercenaries. He passed Phillip’s boat on his way to shore. “We’ll meet you at the harbor,” he said.
“Wait!” Forster called out.
“Yes?”
“Let’s go over there first.” Forster pointed to the Raven Two helicopter. Though smashed, it managed to stay afloat. “They loaded it with C-4. If we can get it out…”
“Wait…what are you thinking?” Nelson said. “Even if you could explode it on the shark, it wouldn’t penetrate the shell.”
“Yeah, but what it we detonated it from inside the shark?” she said. Rick realized what she was thinking. He recalled using the fuel barrel inside the baby hybrid’s mouth at the atoll to explode it from within.
“The soft tissue inside it would be unprotected,” he said. He looked to the mercenaries on Jeffrey’s boat. “Hey! How much C-4 is on that chopper?”
“Enough to level a building,” one of them said. “But don’t think we’re going anywhere near that shark!”
“I’m not asking you to. Just help us get the explosives, and a detonator!” After a brief hesitation, the
mercenary nodded. It was the least he could do.
********
The three-hundred-seventy-foot littoral combat ship USS Carnahan was three quarters of a mile from the west peak of Pariso Marino. On the stern deck was a helipad, containing two Seahawk combat helicopters. Navy sailors prepped the choppers for launch while others manned the armaments - four fifty caliber II chain guns. The Bofors 57mm cannon was armed, ready to fire on the reported hostile warship. Navy Seals boarded the Seahawks, ready to attempt a boarding mission aboard the Pyramid. The green light had not yet been given, as there was no sign of the target.
Captain Reece Danaher stood in the pilot house. New orders were being received from Vice Admiral Griffin onboard the USS Donovan. The orders were to locate a Bell UH-1N Twin Huey, black in color. On board this chopper was an Army Colonel, who reportedly had new intelligence regarding the threat.
What the hell is he doing out this way? Danaher thought to himself. He looked to the radar tech. “Do we have a reading on the Bell?”
“Affirmative, Captain,” the tech said. On the nearby sonar console, another technician stared hard at his screen, while pressing his ears into the headphones.
“Sir? I’m picking up a reading,” he said. Captain Danaher approached, looking at the screen. The computer indicated a large mass near the island coast.
“That can’t be the ship, can it?” he said.
“I don’t think so, sir,” the tech said.
“We have a visual on the Huey. One thousand meters off the port bow,” a voice rang through the comm. Danaher looked through the front pilothouse window. The helicopter looked like a small insect buzzing in the distance. He lifted binoculars to his eyes. There was no sign of the ship.
