The Loch Ness Legacy tl-4

by Boyd Morrison

  The tip of the harpoon entered Locke’s starboard impeller intake and detonated with a satisfying thump.

  Because its battery-powered engines had no fuel to trigger a secondary explosion, the GhostManta wasn’t ripped apart, but the damage was severe enough.

  The sub spiraled away and began an uncontrolled descent toward the bottom.

  Seeing the successful hit, Pryor didn’t need to be told to surface. He tilted the sub up. Zim smiled as Locke and Westfield disappeared from his sonar display and into the inky abyss.

  * * *

  Dunham ducked as another round fired from the tour boat pinged off the whaler’s superstructure. She had ordered the Aegir closer to the powerless cruiser in order to finish them off, but a couple of surprise shots from Brielle Cohen killed two of their men before they could get in range to use the harpoon grenades on it.

  The Norwegian crew had completed lashing the Loch Ness monster to the deck. Dunham had taken only a few moments to look at the creature that had fascinated legend hunters for generations. Even though she had to destroy it, she was still in awe of the animal, a beast like none she’d seen before. The image that would stay with her was its eely tail hanging limply from the rear. From what she could tell, Nessie was dead.

  To make sure it remained at the bottom of the loch, they had to make sure no one could find it, which meant leaving no witnesses. The harpoon cannon was in an exposed position on the bow, so there was no way for Dunham to get to it without coming under Cohen’s fire. She went to the wheelhouse and ordered the captain to ram the other boat. When he refused, she took out her pistol and aimed it at him.

  He eyed her with contempt, then twisted the wheel and ran up to full power.

  The Aegir plowed forward on a collision course. Dunham could see the Nessie Seeker’s captain furiously trying to start the engine. Flashes of light from the upper deck preceded bullets that crashed through the Aegir’s windshield, but by this time there was no stopping the whaler even if Cohen hit the captain.

  Once the Nessie Seeker was gone, they could sink the Aegir, and this whole business would be over. Israel would cease to exist.

  Dunham couldn’t help grinning as the bow loomed over the smaller boat.

  The grin disappeared when she heard its engine roar to life, and the boat crawled forward.

  The Aegir’s captain spun the wheel to compensate, but the inertia was too great. The Nessie Seeker slid forward in time to escape the attempted ramming with nothing more than a scrape to its stern.

  “Turn around!” she yelled, but it was a lost cause. Although the smaller boat seemed to have sustained enough damage to keep it from reaching its top speed, it was far more maneuverable than the whaler.

  It circled around them once, peppering them with bullets, and then veered off toward Urquhart Castle.

  Dunham ordered the ship back toward the center of the loch.

  Zim’s sub pulled alongside the Aegir and was tied up. Zim and Pryor climbed the rope ladder to the deck, and Zim stalked over to her, stepping over bodies as he walked.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he demanded.

  “I was trying to get rid of them.”

  “Yeah, and how’d that go? Now they’re getting away.”

  Dunham gave him a dirty look. “Did you get Locke?”

  “He’s dead.”

  “Good,” she said, and nodded at the motionless beast on the deck. “Then it’s time to get rid of that.”

  He nodded to Pryor, who went below decks. Zim took an assault rifle from his nearest man and leveled it at the captain. The captain put up his hands in a supplicating gesture and pleaded desperately in Norwegian.

  Zim pulled the trigger, and the captain collapsed to the deck. Zim’s men took their cue and gunned down the other crewmembers. After Dunham’s experience in Gaza, the sight of blood and dead bodies no longer disturbed her. She had hardened her heart to it. Nothing could be worse than seeing her fiancé’s mangled body.

  Zim shoved the rifle into her hands. “Now take my men in the Zodiac and go after Locke’s sister. And this time finish them off. Pryor and I will follow in the sub.”

  Dunham had the impulse to mouth off at him, but bit her tongue. Just another few hours of Zim, and she’d be on her way to Indonesia — her new home and, not coincidentally, a non-extradition country.

  FORTY-SIX

  Tyler was able to pull the GhostManta out of its spin, but there was nothing he could do about its trajectory. He and Grant had less than two minutes before the sub hit the bottom of the loch, and his control panel was completely dark. Only the HUD was still working. At least the blast hadn’t compromised hull integrity.

  He hadn’t heard anything from the back seat since the harpoon hit.

  “Grant, are you still with me? Grant!”

  After a few more tries, he got a groggy reply. “I’m right here. You don’t have to shout.”

  “We’re in trouble.”

  Grant cleared his throat. “What’s our status?”

  “We’ve lost pitch control, and the starboard impeller is dead. The port impeller is operational, but I can’t get us out of our descent. Reversing thrust would put us into another spin.”

  “If we hit bottom, we’ll get buried in silt.” If that happened, they’d never get free. The muck on the bottom would act like a giant suction cup. They’d run out of air long before a rescue sub arrived.

  “I know. The throttle and stick are still working, but the explosion must have taken out the electrical feed to my control panel. I can’t jettison the emergency ballast. Does your control panel have power?”

  There was a moment of silence, and Tyler was about to repeat the question when Grant said, “It’s lit.”

  “We only have a minute left.” The 3-D display of the loch bottom approached quickly on the HUD. “You have to activate the emergency drop.”

  “Can’t see. Everything’s blurry.”

  “Do it by touch. It’s the switch on the lower left-hand corner of the panel. It has a safety cover that you have to flip up.”

  The bottom rushed toward them, thirty seconds away now.

  When he didn’t hear anything, Tyler said, “You can do it, buddy. Time is a factor here.”

  “Found it,” Grant said. “Activating.”

  Two heavy weights dropped from the bottom of the sub, and Tyler felt the sudden buoyancy. The sub’s angle started to flatten, but it was taking time to counteract the downward momentum.

  Tyler braced himself for impact.

  The sub leveled off just as they reached the loch bottom. The underside of the sub scraped along the sediment, and the GhostManta came to a stop.

  The silence was total, and Tyler could feel the weight of the crushing darkness outside.

  He waited with his hands grasping the armrests, holding his breath for any sign of them sinking further into the silt. They remained motionless. Tyler briefly considered a desperation move: blow the canopy and swim to the surface. But he knew it wasn’t desperate; it was suicidal. No way they’d be able to go seven hundred feet up on one lungful of air. Better to go out of this life peacefully breathing their own carbon dioxide.

  Then Tyler felt a slight nudge. It hesitated for a moment, and he wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it until he heard the sucking sound of the muck releasing them. The sub slowly pulled away from the bottom, the dropped emergency ballast making it buoyant.

  The GhostManta began its ascent. Tyler inhaled at the reprieve. They were free.

  “We made it, buddy,” he said, but got nothing in response. He turned to see Grant’s head lolling back. He was conscious, but barely.

  Now that Tyler was confident they weren’t going to be entombed on the bottom of Loch Ness, he started formulating a plan about how to get the tissue sample he needed from Nessie.

  He figured Zim had only two choices: either to cart Nessie away or sink it somewhere in the loch. Tyler couldn’t imagine him trying to smuggle it back through the canal, so sinking it w
as the likeliest course of action. But the loss of the ballast meant the sub wouldn’t be able to dive again. If Zim were successful in sinking the monster, it would be game over. They’d never get to the creature in time to avert war and save Grant.

  As the sub rose, it accelerated toward the surface. In the spiraling descent, Tyler had lost his bearings, so he had no idea where they would pop up. He had his hand on the throttle, prepared to make a getaway in case they surfaced anywhere near Zim’s boat.

  Tyler checked his watch. It was now 10:40 p.m., well past sunset. If they were a reasonable distance from the whaler, it was unlikely that the black sub would be seen as it surfaced.

  “Grant, if you can hear me,” he said, “shut off all the lights in the cockpit.”

  He detected a grunt, and the cockpit went dark. The blackness was total, and Tyler felt as if he were floating in the void of space, the stars somehow erased from existence.

  There was nothing to do now except wait. At least his eyes would be dark-adapted once they were topside.

  When the sub broke the surface, he quickly looked around to get his position and saw the luminous tower of Urquhart Castle to his right. Directly ahead of him, he could see the illuminated outline of a familiar boat a hundred yards away, moving perpendicular to him.

  It was the Nessie Seeker. It was limping back to the harbor at Drumnadrochit, its list now ten degrees and worsening.

  He threw the throttle forward and headed for the foundering boat.

  As he brushed the sub up against the hull of the tour boat, Brielle rushed over to the transom and aimed her rifle at the sub. Tyler raised the canopy and called her name.

  “My God!” she exclaimed, lowering the weapon. “We thought you were dead.” She tossed him a line, which he lashed to one of the handholds on the sub’s flat manta wing, normally intended to be used by divers being transported underwater.

  “We almost became a permanent part of the loch.”

  Alexa ran over and leaned against the rail.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” Tyler said, unbuckling his harness, “but Grant’s in bad shape. Help me get him out.”

  Alexa jumped down onto the sub’s wing. “I knew he shouldn’t have been pushing himself so hard.” She bent and patted him on the cheek. “Grant. Come on, wake up.”

  He shook his head, came to, and looked up at her. “You’re a sight for blurry eyes.”

  Tyler took one arm while Alexa steadied him with the other, but unless Grant was able to stand on his own, there was no way the two of them would be able to lift his deadweight. Fortunately, Grant managed to get up under his own power. They helped him over the railing, and he collapsed onto the bench.

  “That’s better,” he said and leaned back. Even in the dim light of the boat, Tyler could see the deep lines on his face. The hair that had grown in since his last shave was fully grey, and some of it was falling out.

  “Oh, my God,” Alexa said.

  “He hasn’t got much time left,” Brielle said.

  “Neither have we,” came a Scottish brogue from the cabin. Tyler turned to an authentically older gentleman at the helm. “We’re taking on water so quickly that I don’t think we’ll make it back to the harbor.”

  Brielle pointed to Urquhart Castle. “Can we go ashore there?”

  “Aye,” the skipper said. “There’s a short pier where the loch cruises tie up. We’ll have to make a go of it.”

  The whaler hadn’t been visible from the side of the Nessie Seeker where the sub was idling, but now that he was standing, Tyler saw its lights in the distance and could make out the bulbous shape of the Loch Ness monster on its deck. The Zodiac had cast off and was racing toward them.

  “Okay,” he said, “you all head for the pier.”

  “Where are you going?” Alexa protested.

  “We lost the tissue sample. I have to try to get it back.”

  “Not on your own, you’re not,” Brielle said. “I’m coming with you.”

  “Do you have any ammo left?”

  “Seven rounds.”

  “Then you have to stay and provide protection for them. With Grant out, you’re the only one who can handle a gun.”

  “Then I’m coming with you,” Alexa said.

  “Absolutely not.”

  She didn’t argue, but before Tyler could stop her, she hopped down onto the sub and into the rear cockpit.

  “You know you need me,” she said, belting herself in. “Now we can either get going or you can try to pull me out of this sub. What’ll it be?”

  Tyler shook his head, equal parts frustration and admiration. The Locke stubbornness was strong in this one.

  He patted Grant on the shoulder while looking at Brielle. “Keep him safe.”

  “I will.”

  Then Tyler did something that surprised even himself. He pulled Brielle to him and planted a kiss on her, holding her body against him in a passionate embrace.

  When he backed away, Brielle looked stunned, pleased, and slightly embarrassed. Exactly what he wanted to see.

  Tyler jumped onto the sub and saw Alexa staring at him with a mischievous smile.

  “What?”

  “Oh, nothing,” she said.

  Tyler got in and latched the canopy. He threw the throttle forward and circled around the Nessie Seeker, planning to give the Zodiac a wide berth as he and Alexa cruised toward their final meeting with the Loch Ness monster.

  FORTY-SEVEN

  Brielle was glad to see that the cold air revived Grant. His eyes fluttered open and he sat up massaging his head as he looked around.

  “Where are Tyler and Alexa?” he asked.

  “They went to get a tissue sample from Nessie.”

  “Where are we?”

  “About a hundred yards from the pier. Will you be able to walk when we get there?”

  He nodded.

  “Good. Actually, we may have to run.” She tilted her head at the sound of the Zodiac fast approaching.

  Grant steadied himself on the seat. “Is it me or is our boat slanted?”

  “We’re taking on water.” As if to punctuate her statement, the engine conked out.

  “That’s it,” Sinclair said from the wheelhouse. “The engine bay’s flooded.”

  They were still fifty yards from the pier but coasting steadily.

  “Can we make it?”

  “Aye,” the skipper said. “But we’ll have to be ready to get off in a hurry.”

  Brielle didn’t have to ask why. Water sloshed around her feet and grew deeper by the second.

  “Stand up,” she said to Grant, slinging the rifle over her shoulder.

  He got to his feet, and Brielle groaned at trying to hold his bulk steady.

  “Mr. Sinclair, a little help if you please.”

  He didn’t move from his position at the wheel. “Can’t, dear. I’ve got to steer us just so.”

  “Looks like we’re on our own,” she said to Grant.

  “We’ll be fine,” he replied, and stepped up onto the port side of the transom. With Brielle’s help, he was able to stay upright by holding onto the railing next to him. The boat was now listing precariously toward the pier.

  “Get ready!” Sinclair yelled.

  The wooden pier jutted out into the loch perpendicular to shore, so they were coming in on a parallel course. The boat’s bow reach the end of the pier and edged along it. When the stern of the boat was beside the pier, Grant jumped off, pulling Brielle out with him. They fell on the planks and rolled to a stop.

  The boat kept going and Sinclair abandoned his post. He nimbly hopped over the transom and landed on his feet.

  The boat smashed into the rocks and rebounded backward. The impact was literally the tipping point for the stricken boat. Its hull creaking from the strain, the Nessie Seeker capsized. The wide hole below the waterline was visible for a count of three, and then it gurgled as it slipped beneath the surface of the loch.

  “Mo chreach!” he
yelled, followed by a muttered, “Excuse my language.”

  Brielle heaved Grant to his feet and said, “Sorry about your boat, Mr. Sinclair, but we have to get out of here.” By her estimation, the Zodiac was only a minute away.

  “It’s not just the Seeker,” he said, putting a shoulder under Grant’s other arm. “I’ve got insurance to cover the loss, but I forgot to take my camera. I got two good pictures of Nessie while she was following us, and now no one will ever see them.” He swore again softly.

  They hoofed it up the pier and onto the sidewalk that led across an expanse of lawn to the entrance into the castle grounds. To their right, past an ancient trebuchet and up a long hill, was the closed visitor’s centre and the parking lot.

  Shots rang out behind them, throwing up pieces of sod, and Brielle looked over her shoulder. The Zodiac was nearing the pier. With Grant slowing them down, they’d never make it up the hill to the visitor’s centre without getting killed. The castle entrance was nearer and looked like the better choice. The place was a fort, after all.

  “Where’s a good defensive position in the castle?” Brielle asked Sinclair as she steered them toward the small bridge over the grassy dry moat that surrounded the castle.

  “There’s a platform atop the gatehouse at the entry to the castle. It has a good view of the grounds inside and outside the castle.”

  “Leave me behind,” Grant croaked.

  “Don’t be so noble,” Brielle said. “Now hurry your arse.”

  She heard shouts behind her as she hauled Grant across the bridge and through the arched stone gateway. Sinclair guided them left into a small room in the reconstructed gatehouse where they found a modern spiral staircase behind a closed glass door.

  It was locked.

  She unslung the rifle and aimed it at the key lock at the top of the door. Shooting out the glass would take more shots, and she needed to conserve every round.

  Brielle blasted the lock and yanked the door open. She ran up the stairs, leaving Sinclair to usher Grant up behind her.

  Once she was up top, she peeked from behind a crumbling stone wall. Four men and one woman were hustling toward the castle entrance. Brielle picked the man in the lead and fired a shot that took him down.