Apex Predator Thriller Series Collection (Including the blockbuster new shark park thriller, Salechii)

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Apex Predator Thriller Series Collection (Including the blockbuster new shark park thriller, Salechii) Page 53

by Carolyn McCray


  Finally they reached the bridge. Shalie opened the door to find everyone assembled.

  She only recognized her party and a few others. The rest were new to her.

  The man at the wheel, she could only assume was the Captain, looked like he was twelve years old.

  He was short and lean with wire-rimmed glasses and a checkered linen shirt. Was he Opie?

  “Ah, our latecomers,” he man said, urging them into the room. “We were just making introductions around the room.”

  “I am Captain Jack…”

  Shalie really expected him to say “Sparrow.” Nami giggled. “I know I thought the same thing.”

  The young, really young looking Captain laughed, “I might as well change my name to Sparrow. It seems it would entertain everyone, but unfortunately the name is Meadows. Close, but no cigar.”

  Was that a slight Southern accent Shalie was picking up? The guy just got more enigmatic by the moment.

  “And I assure you that I have been a Captain of my own vessel for over ten years. Yes, I look thirteen, but I’m actually thirty-one.”

  You always heard that about certain actors. They played teenagers, but were really decades older. Now one of those people stood in the flesh before her.

  “And I am aware of a storm bearing down on the coordinates we are heading to. And yes, I am aware that the Norwegians have been shooting at protesters. I promise to do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

  Shalie hadn’t noticed until now, but many of the other people were giving Quax quite the stare.

  “And yes,” The captain went on. “I am also aware that we have a robot…with a tail, on board.”

  “What does it do?” one of the young women from the other side of the bridge asked.

  Dillon stepped forward. “His name is Quax and he doesn’t do anything. He’s just like us. A researcher.

  Shalie beamed at her almost-stepson. Even after everything he’d been through, Dillon was still so incredibly innocent. Thinking that people were going to accept a seven-foot tall titanium robot as easily as that.

  “And what if we don’t want to sail with him?” asked one of the men, obviously a member of the crew by his uniform.

  Dillon was about to say something and Callum took a step forward as well. Insulting Quax, insulted the entire McClay family.

  It was the captain, however that spoke first, and Shalie had to admit with a rather commanding tone. “Then you will inform me so we can find your replacement, and you can start looking for another job, because any crew member who treats this robot with anything but respect, will find himself back on shore.”

  That got quite a few of the crew to back up a step. Apparently they feared a pink slip more than they did the silver Quax.

  “I really won’t be any trouble,” Quax stated. “I am low maintenance.”

  Dillon laughed, lightening the mood. “I wouldn’t say that buddy,” the teen said as he slapped his friend’s metal shoulder. “Emotionally, definitely not. Physically, sure.”

  “That was what I was referring to,” Quax said with a roll of his artificial eyes.

  “Alright,” Captain Meadows said. “Back to introductions.”

  * * *

  The Captain pointed to the crew side of the bridge. “This is my first mate, Mr. Jangles. And no, his first name is not Bo.”

  Callum was beginning to think this captain was better suited to a cruise line than an environmental crusading vessel.

  The first mate tipped his cap to everyone as the captain continued with the introductions. Callum knew most of the crew from previous meetings.

  There was a translator for when they confronted the Norwegians. Funny, that guy kind of looked like what you would expect of a captain of a vessel this size. He had that old school Amish chin beard and looked like he might have barnacles growing in his eyebrows.

  Rumor had it that the translator actually used to work the whaling ships and got so disgusted that he came over to the other side.

  They also had another marine biologist, a young chipper woman who gushed each time Callum was around. Jillian or something.

  There were various other crew members and then Callum’s team.

  The only man he didn’t recognize stood off into the corner, scribbling down notes. Callum’s gut churned at the sight. Did he recognize the man? Callum tried to sweep his memory for where he might have met the scrawny guy before, but he came up blank.

  “And this,” Captain Meadow said, “Is Mr. Graham Stetterson, he is a renowned environmental blogger, doing a piece on this mission.”

  “No,” Shalie hissed, stepping back.

  Graham smiled that arrogant smile of his. The man had hammered Callum in the press, accusing him of everything from staging the disaster for PR to being a quasi-scientist.

  “I wouldn’t miss this opportunity,” the reporter said, staring straight at Callum.

  Callum’s eyes searched out the captain. He seemed innocent of knowing the treachery going on here. Callum found the navigation’s officer, Ms. Becky Hatattii, who was actually the CEO of the organization. She went out on each and every mission.

  “Becky, can I please have a word with you.”

  The woman’s back stiffened. “I go by Ms. Hatattii on board.”

  Okay, this conversation was going to go great.

  * * *

  Dillon watched as his father, Shalie and the woman named Ms. Hatattii left the bridge.

  Nami grabbed his hand and tugged him to the door. “What are you waiting for?”

  “Nothing,” Dillon said, staying rooted in place.

  “Come on,” Nami urged. “They’re going to have an ‘adult’ conversation.”

  Ugh, he hated it when his girlfriend said that, but she was correct. Adults did have a variety of types of conversations and one of them was what Nami had dubbed the “adult conversation.”

  It had nothing to do with sex or anything naughty, it was just a conversation where they talked about super important things that they felt were too advanced for the “kids.” The problem with these discussions was that the adults usually made decision for the “kids” without consulting them.

  And Nami had a nose for them.

  Thus he allowed Nami to guide him from the bridge as he made his apologies and headed to the deck where the adults had converged.

  The wind had kicked up, so it was hard to hear what they were saying without standing right on top of them.

  “Quax?” Nami asked.

  He turned his head to the side. “They are arguing over Mr. Stetterson’s inclusion on the mission.”

  Dillon wasn’t surprised. The blogger had been a total ass to his dad. Calling him all kind of names. Saying that Dillon’s father was the worst kind of environmentalist there was. The “journalist” had stopped just shy of calling his father a cold-blooded murderer.

  Feeling his hands ball up into fists, Dillon wasn’t so sure coming out here was a good idea. Dillon, really, really, really wanted to punch that guy in the face.

  Nami wrapped her palm around his fist. “Violence isn’t going to help the situation.”

  No, but it seemed like it might feel pretty darned good. He could imagine his fist hitting the blogger’s chin. Stetterson’s head snapping around. A hot spray of blood, then the guy falling over.

  Yep, all of that felt pretty darned good.

  He could see himself going back to the bridge and carrying out the act, but Nami kept him in place.

  “Listen,” she said, nodding to Quax who was relaying the argument amongst the adults.

  Quax wasn’t just relaying the information, he was acting it out, in each person’s voice. The head of the organization’s, Becky’s, sorry Ms. Hatattii’s tone was a little generic since Quax had only heard her utter a few words during the introductions, but Shalie and his dad? Spot on.

  That thick, layered Aussie accent and Shalie’s repressed Mid-West twang. Quax had them pegged.

  The argument went about as you wo
uld expect. Loud.

  * * *

  Shalie thought she had come to be the voice of reason to this argument, however the more Ms. Hatattii spoke, the more Shalie wanted to grab her by the neck and shake her, hard.

  “Whatever article he writes isn’t going to be about your organization,” Callum insisted. “It is just going to be a character assassination piece about me.”

  Ms. Hatattii shook her head, sending her curly brown hair bouncing around her face. If Shalie wasn’t wrong, those were some highlights in that stack of curls. When did peroxiding your hair become environmentally friendly?

  “He has promised to produce a balanced article that highlights the new summer whaling practices of Norway.”

  Callum’s face was blotching red. Never a good sign. “And the promise of a basement blogger goes how far?”

  Ms. Hatattii ‘s smooth features creased. She had that perfect mocha complexion that Shalie would kill for. As a matter of fact, Shalie had been a little jealous of the younger woman. Even a little concerned that Callum and Ms. Hatattii had more in common than she and Callum.

  Yah, she wasn’t all that worried any more as Callum’s forehead turned bright red as the woman spoke. “I would think you would take this as an opportunity to rehab your image.”

  “Rehab my image?” Callum sputtered.

  Shalie stepped between the two. “Look, Stetterson is just a click baiter. He’ll put some shocking title on the article then write whatever he wants.”

  Ms. Hatattii shrugged. “As long as it gets people to an article about summertime whaling, I really don’t care.”

  The woman was so matter-of-fact about it that Shalie was taken by surprise. Was this the new breed of environmentalism? Cold, calculating, and just a little superior?

  Shalie really hated this chick.

  Like hated her more than she’d ever hated anyone in her life. Even Mr. Stetterson seemed pure in his motives. Sure it was to kill off Callum’s reputation but he was like a shark, straightforward and honest about his intentions.

  This woman was more like a snake in the grass. Calculating and all the less attractive for it.

  “We’re out then,” Callum announced and took Shalie’s hand.

  Time to exit stage left.

  She was more than happy to go.

  “That’s one option,” Ms. Hatattii stated, not at all kindly. “You could break yet another environmental contract. I’m sure Mr. Stetterson would love to write an article on why you backed out on yet another species.” The petite woman cocked her head. “You don’t think I chose you for this mission for your biology skills did you?”

  Oh no, she didn’t say that. Shalie turned on her heel. It was Callum that grabbed her hand, holding her back.

  * * *

  Callum’s cheeks blew in and out, but now was not the time or place to lose it or let Shalie lose it. He could see Stetterson looking out the bridge window watching the whole thing play out.

  He was not going to give that guy the satisfaction of watching a cat fight.

  “We will stay,” Callum stated. “But don’t come crying to me when he trashes your reputation and undercuts your funding.”

  “Let me worry about that,” Ms. Hatattii stated.

  Callum turned before what he was thinking came out of his mouth. He urged Shalie down the deck toward their cabin. They passed the kids on their way.

  “Did you get to hear all of that?”

  Dillon looked mildly guilty whereas Nami just nodded. Callum frowned. “Stay away from him. Even the most benign conversation can be turned on its ear.”

  They both nodded as they fell in line and hurried below decks.

  The engines rumbled beneath them.

  A most auspicious start to their journey.

  At least it was only two days out, two days harassing whalers, then two days back. A week of this he could handle.

  Callum wasn’t going to allow Stetterson to get under his skin.

  Salechii was in the past. And Shark Station Nyet was still classified.

  It was now time to look to the future.

  * * *

  Nick and Zoya finally reached the car.

  He went around to the passenger side door and opened it for her.

  Her eyebrow went up. “I see chivalry has not died.”

  Nick felt his cheeks blush. He really was a schoolboy around her. He kind of liked the feeling. Funny how when you were a schoolboy you were terminally embarrassed by feeling like a schoolboy, yet now, at his age, the sensation was exhilarating.

  He was about to say something when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out to find his manager’s name flashing.

  “Sorry, Zoya, I’ve got to take this.”

  Arty was working on a few deals that Nick had to weigh in on.

  He turned away from Zoya despite wanting to do the opposite and answered the phone. “Arty, what’s the word?”

  “I got you the part of King Laius!”

  “Who?” Nick asked.

  “Oedipus’ father! You’ve got a great death scene, this is a total score of a role.”

  “Um, no, just no,” Nick said. “I told you I didn’t want to star as the father of anyone off the CW.”

  “Nick, Nick, Nick,” Arty said as he always did. “There are slim pickings out there for your age grouping and Liam is snatching up every last one of them.”

  “First off, I’m not sixty,” Nick shot back. “And another… find me a project then. Scan Amazon’s bestselling list. Find me a roll I can be proud of.”

  Before Arty could give him his old song and dance, Nick hung up the phone. He’d heard all the excuses before.

  Nick turned back to Zoya. “Where were we?”

  She smiled, cocking her head. “Everything all right?”

  “Yah, I just really should fire my manager, that’s all.”

  He reached out and took her hand helping her into the car. She squeezed his hand as she went to sit down. That was until two dark blue sedans tore up, screeching to a halt behind Nick’s car.

  Naval officers exited the cars coming straight for Zoya.

  Nick stepped in front of them. “She’s been cleared.”

  “Not if she lied to us,” one of them stated, nodding to the guards to take her into custody.

  “I don’t understand,” Zoya plead. “I told you everything.”

  The officer shrugged. “Apparently not.”

  Nick felt so incredibly helpless as the men took Zoya into custody. He tried to stay hopeful. “I’ll get my lawyer right on it,” he tried to reassure her.

  The look on her face showed she didn’t think it would help.

  It had taken him two months to get her out the first time. How long was it going to take now?

  CHAPTER 3

  Nami let the motor boat rock under her. She’d learned over the past few days just to ride it out. Dramamine just made her drowsy during her nausea. Of course Dillon, Callum and Quax rode out the windy storm like pros.

  Only Shalie was a little green around the gills.

  They had missed the bulk of the storm by skirting around it, but now if they were going to intercept the Norwegians before they hit their summer hunting grounds, they were going to have to turn right into the storm.

  Dillon rubbed her back. “How about we take your mind off of it?”

  She would love nothing more than that. “Any ideas?”

  “Cards?” he suggested, thumbing through a deck. “I got them off the crew. I don’t think we want to know what the sticky stuff is on them.”

  That got Nami to laugh. It had been a while since she laughed. Mainly because she was fighting the nausea. Couldn’t whales live somewhere nice and calm?

  But no…

  Good thing she liked them a whole heck of a lot better than she did sharks.

  “Go fish?” she asked.

  Callum sat down at the table, one handedly shuffling the cards. “I was thinking something a bit more challenging. 5 card hold ‘em?”
r />   “Dad…” Dillon warned.

  “What? We’ll play for buttons or something, no cash involved.”

  Nami looked from father to son. What was going on? Even Shalie looked clueless.

  Despite Dillon’s reservation, Nami said, “I’m game,” Nami was up for anything beyond the nausea.

  As the boat tilted to-and-fro, Nami watched as Callum dealt the cards. He seemed more than a little practiced at all of this one-handed.

  With a frown Dillon sat down and accepted his cards.

  She was going to have to check in with her boyfriend later about what was up with his attitude.

  Just as Callum was dealing an alarm went off, red flashing light and all.

  Callum was out of his chair, tipping it over backwards. “They’ve spotted a whaling ship. Hurry, get suited up!”

  * * *

  Shalie stood frozen for a moment. Red flashing lights had in the recent past meant impending death. She had to convince her limbs this wasn’t the case. This red light meant something entirely different, yet in her gut, she couldn’t shake the feeling of doom.

  The others were half way to getting their dry suits on.

  “Something wrong?” Callum asked, his cheeks flushed pink. You could just see the enthusiasm in him. He loved those red flashing lights. He was not their slave, but their master.

  “No, no,” Shalie said, going over and getting her suit on as well.

  “Let me help you,” Quax offered, holding the leggings out for her. Since he didn’t need a suit, he had the time to help. Still she was reluctant to accept his help. It would only get her ready to go into the little inflatable boat into a stormy sea.

  Why had she said yes to this in the first place?

  Then she looked over to Callum, who was zipping up his suit. His handsome features struck her again. How incredibly lucky she was. Not just for his physical prowess, but because within that delicious exterior lay a truly good man. A man who was willing to get back up on the horse over and over again, every time it had bucked him off.

  Nodding to Quax, she allowed the robot to help her into her suit. She was nearly ready as the rest sounded off that they were suited up.

  It was time to do this.

  As she adjusted the suit, Shalie followed the rest out. They were above deck, getting pelted by the storm. The raindrops stung, they were coming in so fast and so hard.

 

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