Son of Cerberus (The Unusual Operations Division Book 2)

by Jacob Hammes

  “What now,” Henry said, looking around. The bright lights showed men walking this way and that through the huge stacks of shipping containers. The cranes, so large they used two massive pylons to roll back and forth over the stacks, were still operating. Marcus wondered if anyone had even been informed about the danger that they were in.

  “I don’t know,” Marcus admitted. “I guess we should try and find the Port Authority and figure out how to stop that ship.”

  “Leave that to us,” one officer said, radioing in that he needed immediate backup before heading off down the pier.

  Marcus spotted two other police officers walking with someone up ahead. They were clad in their usual black uniforms with trim of gold and blue. They both wore patrol caps, too, and carried large pistols and batons on their side.

  “Looks like we might not have to look too far after all,” Marcus said, breaking into a light jog to catch up to the men. The three were just under a hundred yards away, but the loud banging of containers, the shriek of cranes, and low rumble of ships made it impossible to communicate from this far away. Marcus tried waving his hands as he ran, but it was no use.

  Henry jogged beside Marcus, muttering something about the police being no help when they both stopped cold. One officer stood to the side, facing the dock worker in his uniform while the other officer pulled his pistol. Leveling it on the back of the port worker, he didn’t even hesitate before putting a bullet through his head.

  Execution wasn’t something the police usually participated in.

  Cynthia was the first to speak. From just a few steps behind, she had seen the very same thing Marcus and Henry had just witnessed.

  “They’re not going to give us any help.”

  The three of them moved behind the closest container before the so-called police officers turned their attention away from the deceased man. Marcus didn’t want to see what the imposters would do to them and really wanted to avoid any future shootouts. Instead, they chose to move stealthily through the shadows toward the police in order to figure out what the shooting was all about.

  The yard was nearly as bright as day, making movement between the huge stacks of containers difficult to do while maintaining their hiding spots. Each time they moved meant they could be spotted.

  Running from shadow to shadow was difficult, but they reached the police quickly.

  Marcus darted as quickly as he could to the next hiding spot, a place that seemed completely abandoned. A narrow corridor between the containers opened up and the three quietly crept into the darkness. There, they could at least get their bearings before darting out into the open again.

  The three held their breath when the lead officer, a tall white man holding the hands of the deceased, walked by nonchalantly. The second officer, a seemingly Hispanic man, held the body’s feet. From ten feet away, Marcus could hear him complaining about the weight.

  “Guy’s heavy,” he said, surprised. Perhaps it was just the worst luck a man could have, but Marcus heard Henry let out a great sneeze from behind.

  Marcus grumbled audibly as the pseudo-cop stopped in place and turned his head slowly toward the three creeping agents. He didn’t seem surprised, just inconvenienced.

  Cynthia didn’t mind springing into action first. She swept past Marcus at full speed, jumping headlong into the officer’s abdomen and spearing him to the ground. She was on him in the blink of an eye, laying into his face with blow after savage blow from two clenched fists.

  Marcus rounded the corner just in time to save her from being shot. The large Desert Eagle pistol he had confiscated earlier did a good enough job intimidating the officer into laying down his own weapon.

  “This isn’t what it looks like,” he said while his counterpart was being pummeled on the ground. His white skin turned a lighter shade of white knowing he had just been caught. Sheepishly, he put his hands up while he stared at his friend. Henry pulled Cynthia off by the armpits as the man she’d been pummeling fell into unconsciousness. She tried her hardest to kick the officer in his head while she was pulled backward.

  “We know,” Marcus said, making sure he was careful with the spooked man. “We’re federal agents here to stop the Catalan from making its departure. From what we hear, there should be more police here soon. I find that hard to believe now.”

  “You’re feds?” the cop said. His nametag said William. “What are feds doing out here?”

  “Trying to stop the dispersion of biological weapons,” Cynthia said. “Tell us how to get aboard that ship, or you’re going to join your friend here.”

  “The ship has already shoved off,” the cop said, his voice shaking. “I’m not sure there is anything you can do now.”

  “Well,” Cynthia said, brushing blood from her knuckles. “I guess that doesn’t bode well for you.”

  “Wait,” William said. “Don’t hit me, man. I think I saw the gangway down still. If you can get a boat, you can board using the gangway.”

  “There’s no way they will hit international waters,” Henry said. “We might as well leave the ship for the Coast Guard.”

  “They’re not headed for international waters.” The officer was frightened enough to divulge information he hadn’t been asked about. It was a plus for the team. “They’re just getting away from the dock so that they can transfer the merchandise.”

  “Great,” Marcus said. Henry was already on the phone with Gregory, who was apparently having a very bad day. The information was more than enough to shock him into action.

  “So,” Henry said as he hung up the phone. “William, you’re going to stay here. Hopefully none of these containers move while you and your partner are chained to them. Team, we’re going to head out to sea.”

  “Great,” Marcus said, eyeing Henry. He remembered the last time they were in water. It didn’t go well for his friend.

  “Well,” Cynthia said, taking pleasure in the act of chaining the officers up. “Hopefully we’ll be back here in a few hours. If not, you’re going to have to start yelling really loud.”

  “You’re going to leave me here?” William was not happy about the prospect of being chained to a shipping container near the man he had just seen executed. “This isn’t your best idea.”

  Cynthia slapped him as hard as she could, sending his head back against the container. He gritted his teeth at the sting of the slap, but grabbed the back of his head from where it had just rebounded from the steel.

  “Shut it.”

  Making sure the two cops couldn’t get loose and were completely unarmed first, the three trotted off without another word. They saw a small tugboat-like vessel nearby they would be confiscating in order to catch up to the distant cargo ship. Its massive size was still visible in the narrow strait of the shipping lane, but it was quickly getting smaller.

  Marcus wondered what was taking the Coast Guard so long. He could only assume they were dealing with imposters, just as the police officers had been.

  The small boat ended up being nothing as they had first thought it was. Just over twenty feet long, it had a thin-walled cabin meant to keep its pilot out of the elements and nothing more. Even though it resembled a tugboat in shape, it couldn’t have been used for much more than piloting larger ships into the docks.

  The three were happy to see that boats were rather easy to hotwire. Marcus made quick work of the wires while Henry chatted away on the telephone and Cynthia stood guard. In just under a minute, they had power where they should and the motor was revving away. Not a single worker looked at them as they worked. Come to think of it, Marcus couldn’t recall seeing much more than one or two hard-hat clad men.

  Marcus pegged the throttle to full and the boat jumped forward. The bow went skyward as it gained speed, digging a wide swath through the calm waters. Cynthia gave a hoot of joy as the boat leveled out and glided easily through the dark sea water of the shipping lane. The shore passed by quickly as the cool night air battered her face, sending her black hair whipping a
bout behind her.

  They were closing quickly with the slow moving cargo ship. Though they had been over a mile behind the titan, they were moving at least three times as fast as it was. As they closed in, they became keenly aware they were once again going up against something much larger than they were. Lights shined from on top of the ship, illuminating the large containers which seemed stacked impossibly high. All in all, Marcus estimated the highest point of the ship at over a hundred feet above sea level.

  The boat powered on anyway, taking them closer and closer toward the container ship. As they approached, they realized that they may be too late. A smaller boat mimicked the large ships every movement. It bounced just alongside the larger ship and from what Marcus could see from their current distance, it was floating alongside the dangling gangway.

  “Crud,” Marcus said. “I think they’re already transferring material.”

  “Oh come on,” Henry said, obviously annoyed with the amount of action they had already been through. “When does it end?”

  “Now,” Marcus said, punching the throttle until it hit the stops. They were under a half mile away and closing as fast as they could. The whine of the engine was making Marcus wonder whether or not they would actually be able to catch up to the departing ships. He had a brief feeling that the boat they had taken might not make it.

  “What’s the plan, Marcus?” Henry yelled over the sound of the engines and the wind whipping past. “We’re not going to be able to board with all those men.”

  “We’ll make a pass,” Marcus said, determination forming his jaw into a jagged line. “If there are too many men for us to take out, we’ll sink the boat that’s following them and wait for the Coast Guard to stop the ship.”

  “Sounds like a good plan,” Cynthia said, perched alongside Marcus and squinting out into the darkness. “But there’s two boats following, not just one.”

  Marcus squinted, too, as he tried to see what Cynthia was talking about. She was right, unfortunately. The single group of green and red lights that they had seen trailing beside the back of the huge ship split into multiple groups as one motored off into the darkness. Marcus cursed out loud at the fact that no one else was helping them.

  “Can’t catch a break,” Henry said, eyeing the distant spots of light as best he could with his less-than-perfect vision. “So we can stop at least one of the shipments, right?”

  We’re going to try,” Marcus said, formulating a quick plan in his head.

  Discussing it quickly between themselves meant that Henry took the wheel. Marcus and Cynthia ensured that the little boat had no lights as Henry maneuvered the vessel stealthily through the waters.

  Once the little boat caught up to the Catalan, Henry wasted no time in putting the plan into action. From just out of view, he steered the boat hard toward the vessel receiving the shipment. Without a second thought, he plowed right into the smaller boat as Marcus and Cynthia jumped recklessly onto the bow. Within a second, they were on their feet with guns leveled on anything that moved.

  The collision tore the smaller, yet very large, luxury yacht away from the cargo ship. With little time to spare, Marcus made for the gangway as Cynthia picked a gun-toting individual off from behind him. With Henry covering their backs, the two made it onto the steps and started working their way up.

  Content with the damage to the yacht, Henry broke away and kept his own little boat in the shadow of the 300 meter ship. As gunfire spat from the enemy craft, he punched the gas and fired back.

  Marcus, armed with the Desert Eagle, pumped five rounds into the yacht from above. Whatever he hit did the trick. The yacht started slewing at an odd angle and slowed to a crawl. The huge 50 caliber slugs must have damaged something, or Marcus had killed the pilot. Either outcome worked for him.

  Cynthia spotted a man with a gun ahead and quickly put him down as they made it up the last few steps. As they rounded the corner, they expected to be greeted by men with guns, or knives, just waiting to take them down. Instead, it was an empty deck. The men, or women, who had been so adamant on putting them down, had obviously retreated from the gunfire.

  With her expert eyes, Cynthia was the first to jump down onto the deck. She scanned both ways while Marcus followed. They knew that they were in enemy territory now. Keeping their heads was going to be tough.

  Scurrying away from the railing, they found cover against one of the huge stacks of containers. Marcus whispered to Cynthia that they should head toward the bridge when something he had not expected rolled his way.

  The familiar clank of something strange told Marcus that they had to leave. Before them, rolling quickly from a distant hiding place, came a grenade. Neither he nor Cynthia had to be told what to do. It was either jump off the ship, or end up peppered with lethal fragmentation.

  They ran and jumped without hesitation, bracing themselves for the huge drop into the water. The explosion shook the air behind them, but there was no fireball. Just a loud bang and an incredible concussion which followed them into the dark.

  Both splashed down with their hands close to their chest and feet tucked together, like they had been trained. In seconds, they were reoriented and swimming to the surface. Marcus witnessed Henry making a jump into the ocean, too, in order to avoid a volley of gunfire that suddenly rained down on the small boat they had commandeered.

  Now, angry men stood over the side of the ship watching the three UOD agents slip away. One man with a rifle leaned far over and leveled the rifle toward Marcus and Cynthia. The rest simply waited—he would kill them both shortly.

  As Marcus and Cynthia braced for the worst, they spotted something that neither of them could have hoped for. A helicopter appeared out of the darkness, spraying automatic weapon fire across the containers above. The red and white paintjob meant that the Coast Guard had finally showed up.

  The men ducked away from the side of the ship, instead turning their attention to the more obvious threat from above.

  The three members of the UOD howled in excitement as the cavalry finally managed to show up. The good guys boarded the ship as yet more assets arrived in the distance, blocking the paths of anything within the shipping lane.

  “That’s what I’m talking about,” Cynthia said, slapping the water as she floated in place. “It’s about time we get some help.”

  Heavy gunfire in the distance signified lethal battle was occurring. Marcus let his head sink lower into the water as tracer rounds flew out toward them, skipping sometimes from the water as they flew above the three.

  “Maybe we should get to shore,” Henry said, also feeling sort of naked in the water. Marcus agreed, noting the fact that some large shadow was looming ominously behind them and the low thrum of a motor made them all feel as if their insides might vibrate into mush. Marcus was the first to start paddling, freestyle, away from the center of the shipping lane.

  A Coast Guard cutter, guns bristling off the bow, motored past while the three pulled themselves out of the water and smiled thankfully. They had, at least partially, succeeded in what they had come to do.

  Chapter 24

  “Marcus,” Gregory said through the cellphone Marcus was currently borrowing. Unfortunately his nearly thousand dollar digital device hadn’t been equipped with water-impermeability yet and his recent swim had destroyed it. For now, one of the many police officers taking them into temporary custody was kind enough to allow him to use a much cheaper cellular device.

  “We’ve got problems on every front,” Gregory said. “You’re going to have to wait it out until we send your documents in.”

  “We might have just saved thousands of lives,” Marcus said incredulously, holding the telephone between two soaked and chained hands. The police weren’t about to believe such an unbelievable story without some sort of proof. There had been too many shootouts that night for them to worry about whether the NSA agents were who they said they were.

  “Thousands of lives and we’re being sent to the clink? What if th
ese guys are as crooked as the last cops?”

  “Could be possible,” Gregory said grumpily. “Those two were imposters though. Besides, maybe they will cut you out in a few hours or something. For right now, sit tight and don’t drop the soap. Cases like this require certain formalities and you can’t blame the local authorities for being too cautious.”

  “So what’s going on out there that’s so big?” Marcus asked.

  “You’ll hear about it soon enough,” Gregory angrily muttered. “For now, just sit tight. It could be a few minutes, or you could be there a day. Either way, see you soon.”

  Not a single Coast Guard or police asset had been killed. The bad guys, all twenty of them, had either been killed, wounded, or taken into custody. Unfortunately, regardless of how much Marcus complained, he couldn’t get the Coast Guard to magically find a missing boat. Besides, they were in one of the busiest port-areas in the world.

  A small boat like the one they had seen slipping into the darkness would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack.

  “So what now?” Cynthia said. The large towel supplied by the fire officials did a good job covering what her moisture wicking undergarments didn’t. She had been the only one out of the three smart enough to wear something underneath her suit, much to the envy of the Marcus and Henry who were forced to sit tight in soggy clothes.

  “Guess we just wait for our credentials to come back,” Marcus said happily. “Maybe take a nap?”

  The officer in the front seat chirped away into his shoulder-mounted microphone while the three got as comfortable as they could. They had been through quite a few long days and now they had finished what they had come for. Even though they hadn’t rounded up all the strange lifeforms that had presumably been hiding in plain sight for decades, or even longer, they still did as much as they could. They had also broken the case wide open, revealing that what they were after wasn’t a terror machine but something far more complicated and sinister.

  Marcus smiled. He didn’t know whether or not they had proven the existence of alien life or simply some bacteria that had been hiding for the better part of human history. Either way, they would go down as the men and women who covertly witnessed and perhaps identified some lifeform capable of taking over the human body. The only downside is that their files would probably never be released.