by Jake Bible
“Any more bells and whistles?” Shane asked.
“Tons,” Darren said, “you’ll see. Trust me, you’ll fall in love with the Beowulf II as soon as you set foot on the deck.”
Darby brought the Wyrm in for a landing and soon the motors were cut and the rotors started to power down. Kinsey was grateful for the reduction in brain-melting noise, but she quickly realized she had a different problem: she’d lost her sea legs and the rocking of the Beowulf II was almost as bad as the rotor noise of the Wyrm.
“Just kill me,” she said as she stepped out of the Wyrm, ignoring the helping hands offered by both of her cousins. “You want to help? Smack me in the head and toss me overboard.”
“I might let them if you don’t stop acting like a pussy,” Thorne said as he grabbed his gear. “No wonder you couldn’t hack it as a SEAL.”
Darren, Max, and Shane froze and looked from Thorne to Kinsey, waiting for the explosion. But Kinsey just smiled at her father and nodded.
“You nailed it there, Daddy,” Kinsey said. “Too much pussy for the SEALs.” She grabbed her crotch and thrust towards her father. “The Navy couldn’t handle this pussy, so it fucked my blood work up to kick me out. Yeah, I’m the pussy. Whatever.”
“Glad you brought her,” Darren said as he patted Thorne on the shoulder and pushed past him to the stairs leading to the upper deck. “Let me know how it works out.”
Everyone else followed Darren, even Thorne, leaving Kinsey up on the helipad alone with Darby.
“What is wrong with you?” Darby asked.
“Oh, you know,” Kinsey shrugged, “just a junkie making her way in life.”
“Fuck that,” Darby said, moving in close to Kinsey. “That’s just surface bullshit. What’s really wrong with you?”
“You aren’t known for your interpersonal skills, are you?” Kinsey said, uncomfortable with the invasion of her personal space as Darby kept moving in closer.
“I don’t care for them,” Darby said. “I don’t care for excuses either. Get rid of yours and we’ll be fine.”
Darby leaned forward and tapped her forehead to Kinsey’s, then turned and left the helipad.
“What the fuck…?” Kinsey whispered. “Nice rabbit hole you fell through, Kins. How are you getting out of this one?”
“Ms. Thorne?” Popeye asked from the upper deck. The sun was in his face and both eyes were squinted until almost shut, his massive forearms folded across his chest. “I’ve been sent to make sure you get to the briefing room.”
“Briefing room?” Kinsey asked. “Oooh, that sounds important.”
“It’s a room,” Popeye said, “where you get briefed. Not as important as the head, if you ask me.”
Kinsey smiled at the man that looked like a cartoon character. It was her first genuine smile in days. And as she thought about it, probably the first genuine smile in months.
“Point me in the right direction,” Kinsey said as she descended the steps and planted her feet on the deck.
She took a deep breath and felt better as the salt air filled her lungs. The swaying of the ship wasn’t as noticeable as it had been, and she started to feel something so unfamiliar she wasn’t sure what it was at first. Then she realized it was comfort; the comfort of the sea all around her. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed the water.
“You okay, Ms. Thorne?” Popeye asked.
“Just fine,” Kinsey said, “and call me Kinsey, not Ms. Thorne. Ms. Thorne was my mother and she was a better woman than me.”
“Not from what the captain says,” Popeye replied. “I mean, I don’t know what your mother was like, but the captain thinks highly of you. So does Doc.”
“Doc?” Kinsey asked as she followed Popeye to a hatch that led down to the main deck. “Who’s Doc?”
“Gunnar,” Popeye said, “Doctor Gunnar Peterson. Guy seems to like you and was pretty excited to find out you were coming aboard.”
Kinsey couldn’t even respond to that she was so stunned.
The ship was a maze that Kinsey knew she’d learn at some point, but she didn’t bother memorizing the turns as she followed Popeye. He brought her to a well-lit briefing room, rimmed with several portholes that brought in the light being reflected from the water below. Everyone was seated around a long conference table, including a few faces Kinsey didn’t recognize.
One of the faces she did recognize belonged to a man she hadn’t seen in so long, she couldn’t remember the last time they’d been in the same room together.
“Gunnar…?” Kinsey asked quietly as the man wrapped his arms around her and lifted her into the air. “I didn’t…I didn’t know you’d be here.” She found her father looking at her. “No one told me.”
“Would it have made a difference?” Gunnar asked. “I’m a trained doctor, you know. I’m very aware of the mental state of those going through withdrawal.”
“You know what?” Kinsey answered honestly. “I think it would have made a difference. It’s so good to see you.”
“And it is good to see you, Ms. Thorne,” Mr. Ballantine said from the head of the table, a space usually reserved for the captain, but Darren sat to the man’s right. “I have heard many things about you and look forward to hearing more. But I’m afraid I have to break up this reunion and get down to business.”
Darby started passing out folders to each of the new arrivals.
“Inside these, you will find your contracts and all forms needed to begin your employment,” Mr. Ballantine said. “I’ll give you a few minutes to read over them. Then I expect you to sign them so we can begin. Captain Chambers has assured me that all of you are exactly what we need for this mission, so I’d like to not waste any more time, if that’s possible.”
“Yeah, sure,” Kinsey said as Gunnar led her to a seat next to him, “whatever.”
“I applaud your enthusiasm,” Mr. Ballantine said, giving her a wink, “now, let’s please continue.”
Kinsey sat and watched as everyone started to read what was in their folders. The puzzled looks on her cousins’ faces piqued her interest, so she opened her own folder and began studying the documents.
“Hold on,” Kinsey said, “I’m sure I missed a lot on the plane, but what is this about ‘post-mission research’?”
“That is the true heart of this operation,” Mr. Ballantine said. “The company I work for solves problems. The main mission is to raid the pirate compound where the kidnapped crew of a container ship belonging to one of our clients are being held. That pays the bills. It is a new direction we are taking and success is crucial to the rest of the operation.”
“But what is the rest of the operation?” Shane asked. “That’s not explained in here.”
“No, it is not,” Mr. Ballantine smiled.
They all waited.
“Uh, so…?” Max asked. “What is the rest of the operation?”
“That will be revealed after our main mission is finished,” Mr. Ballantine said. “If you are successful, then we will proceed, if you fail, then there is no point in explaining any of it since you’ll either be dead or in a Somali prison.”
“Did you know any of this?” Shane asked Thorne.
“I only know what he told me,” Thorne said, nodding at Darren.
Max and Shane turned to Darren, and then shook their heads in unison.
“No way, Ditcher,” Shane said, “are you kidding?”
“Is this a fish hunt, Ditcher?” Max asked.
“Whales aren’t fish,” Darren replied, “and don’t call me Ditcher. I fucking hate that.”
“I love it,” Kinsey said, “because it’s true.”
Bobby snorted and Kinsey focused her attention on the pilot.
“Got something to share with the rest of us?” Kinsey asked.
“Pretty sure you served him with divorce papers,” Bobby said, “not the other way around. Who ditched who?”
“No,” Mr. Ballantine said, placing his palms on the table. Something about the sl
ow way he spread his fingers out and pressed down grabbed everyone’s attention. That and the dark look on his face. “This will not devolve into a battle of wills and personalities. You are professionals, even you Ms. Thorne. Act it.”
“But what about the fish hunt?” Max asked.
“Whales aren’t fish,” Darren snapped.
“We’ll discuss the fish hunt after the mission, Mr. Reynolds,” Mr. Ballantine said. “Please finish reading the file and then sign all accompanying documents.”
“And, just for clarification, what happens if we don’t sign?” Shane asked.
“You will,” Mr. Ballantine replied, smiling.
“But what if we don’t?” Max asked.
“You will,” Mr. Ballantine said.
“Got it,” Shane replied, giving a thumbs up. “Who’s got a pen?”
One was slid across the table to him and he signed the many documents in the file, shut the folder, and slid it and the pen to Mr. Ballantine.
“You want to pay me for one night’s work and a pointless vacation of a fish hunt, then more power to you,” Shane said, “I can use the rest. Gives me time to work on my tan while you all stare at the horizon and hope Moby Dick shows up.”
“I’m just looking forward to visiting a new, exotic place and killing people,” Max said as he slid his folder over. “I don’t like to tan as much as my brother does. Anyone play poker? I’m up for a few weeks of cards.”
“As long as I get to fly that bird, I’m in,” Bobby said, adding her folder to the pile.
“Me too,” Lucy said, “plus I get to show these SEALs how a real shooter does it.”
“Oh, no she didn’t!” Max laughed.
Thorne silently slid his folder over and looked at Kinsey. Her head was down and she was busy reading the documents. Or busy trying to look like she was reading them. He could see the sheen of sweat on her brow and cheeks. Despite her bravado, he knew his daughter was still suffering greatly and was using all of her willpower to keep from collapsing.
Just as he was about to say something, Gunnar leaned in and whispered in her ear. She looked over at him, her eyes wide and then turned back to the file and began to sign the paperwork. She finished and tossed the folder on the pile, giving her father a quick glance.
“Excellent,” Mr. Ballantine said. “I have to sort through these, scan and get them to headquarters. The captain will take over from here. You have a lot of work to do, but I’m sure we can allow time for a tour of the Beowulf II and possibly a chance to clean up and eat before the first briefing.”
“Hey,” Max said, “what happened to the first Beowulf?”
“We don’t talk about that,” Mr. Ballantine said, “please don’t ask again.”
Then he left, followed by Darby, and Max looked down the table at the rest of the crew that had sat there quietly.
“What the fuck was that about?” Max asked. “Is he joking? They don’t talk about it?”
“We don’t know,” Lake said as he stood up. “He says he isn’t. Doesn’t matter to me. I have to relieve Jennings on the bridge.”
Lake left and Darren stood up. “That was my CO, Marty Lake. I may be Captain, but he’s in charge, trust me. Do whatever he says and you’ll be fine. You aren’t crew, but you are subject to the rules of the ship. Pay attention and don’t step on toes.”
Darren introduced the rest of the men seated at the table: Popeye, Cougher, Beau, and Gunnar.
“There are twenty others below deck running the ship,” Darren said, “but honestly, I don’t know them yet. They came with the Beowulf II and Ballantine has said that there is no need to make personal connections. Apparently, they’ll be swapped out as often as possible so that no unauthorized crew knows too much about our operation.”
“What is the operation, Captain Ditcher?” Max asked. Darren gave him a cold look. “What? I said Captain?”
“Let’s focus on the mission,” Thorne said, “like Mr. Ballantine explained, there will be time for the rest of the operation after we free the hostages.”
“So we get to kill pirates?” Shane said. “Sweet, sweet, sweet. Do we get to use the mini-sub?”
“How about a tour first?” Darren said. “Then you guys can grab some chow and take a quick nap. We’ll gather after supper and begin to plan. We have about eight days to get ready. I don’t want to lose a minute.”
***
To say everyone was impressed with the Beowulf II would be an understatement. They were floored by it.
It was similar to the RV Falkor that was part of the Schmidt Ocean Institute, and funded by Google, but it had some major differences. Such as a reinforced double hull. Not standard on a simple research vessel; mostly used for military vessels that expected to see battle. That brought some questions, but Darren just smiled.
The shaft and diesel generators were also much more powerful than the Falkor, which gave the ship a maximum speed of 25 knots, not the usual 20 knots. Cruising speed was 15 knots, while survey speed was a steady 10 knots. The Team was impressed.
The best part for them, besides the well-equipped crew lounge full of snacks, beer, and video games, was the mini-sub attached to the stern of the boat. It was locked into two large deployment arms and held in place by large claws that could fold out and place the sub right in the water, and then pick it up when done. They all, except for Kinsey, wanted to go inside and check it out. But Darren said there’d be time for that as he led them to the mess and put them in the hands of Beau.
“Grab a tray and fill it up,” Beau said. “Eat what you can and all you can. There’s plenty.”
The Team did as instructed and were soon stuffed. Beau showed them to their quarters where their gear was stashed. They were surprised to find that they each had their own cabin. But being a ship, there was barely enough room for gear and the cot they were each to sleep on. Max had to crawl over his gear to get to the cot and didn’t even bother to pull off his boots before crashing out.
Before any of them knew it, the dinner bell rang.
Instead of joining the others, Kinsey made her way to the upper deck. She took a couple of wrong turns, but eventually found her way topside. The sun was setting and she found that the upper deck had an open lounge complete with plush deck chairs. She settled into one and watched the orange light play across the small waves.
“What did Gunnar say to you to get you to sign?” Thorne asked as he sat down next to Kinsey.
“Couldn’t just let a girl enjoy the sunset, huh Daddy?” Kinsey sighed. “Couldn’t give me that?”
“Why I should give you anything, I don’t know,” Thorne replied, “from what I’ve seen, you don’t deserve any of this.”
Kinsey turned and looked at her father and smiled. “He said he had something close to methadone that will ease me through the withdrawal, and he’d make sure I was part of the Team during the mission.”
Thorne watched her for a minute, studying her face, looking for the joke. But he didn’t find it because she wasn’t joking. He stood up quickly and started to walk away.
“We’ll see about this,” Thorne said.
“Too late, Daddy,” Kinsey smiled, “he gave me the shot while you all were eating. I’m already starting to feel a little clearer. Clearer than I have in a long time.”
“Motherfucker,” Thorne said. “I don’t know who he thinks he is. I’m the Team leader and I decide who is on the mission. Not that faggot.”
Kinsey sat there and shook her head. “Oh, Daddy, really? Faggot? What is this, the 20th century?” She stood up and got in her father’s face. “You know who the first person was to call me when Darren left for BUD/S and I knew my marriage was over? Gunnar. I have known that man most of my life, Daddy, and he is nothing but kind and generous. Is he gay? Yeah, but so fucking what? Don’t ever call him that again.”
“Fine,” Thorne said, “I didn’t mean it. I know the kid is a good guy.”
“He’s not a kid, Daddy,” Kinsey laughed. “He’s the same age a
s me and Darren, which means he’ll be thirty next year.”
“Jesus,” Thorne said, rubbing his face, “Thirty? Already?” He looked out at the water. “Doesn’t change the fact that you aren’t going to be on the mission.”
“It does,” Kinsey said, backing away from her father and sitting back in the lounge chair. “I am going to be on the mission. Mr. Ballantine already approved it. Gunnar said Darren balked, but had to agree that I have a skill set needed.”
“What’s that?” Thorne laughed. “You know we’ll be killing people, not bottles of whiskey, right?”
“Funny,” Kinsey said. “You have two snipers, a Coast Guard gunner and yourself. You’ll probably put Shane on overwatch, the gunner will be on the helo for cover during extraction, which leaves you and Max to clear and rescue the hostages. Two men. Not possible.”
“We’ll have Darren and Darby,” Thorne said, “that’s four.”
“Nope,” Kinsey said, “Darren and Darby have a side mission they have to attend to simultaneously.”
“What? That’s news to me,” Thorne said, taken by surprise. “Who told you that?”
“It’s amazing what you learn when you don’t call someone faggot,” Kinsey said. “You need me, old man. Plus, I’m the best close quarters fighter out there. I nearly took all three of you while high and shit faced. Did you know I’d just shot up like ten minutes earlier and had finished about four bottles of whiskey in the last twenty-four hours? And I kicked your ass.”
“You didn’t even come close to kicking my ass,” Thorne said, but he couldn’t help but smile. She had come very close. “We’ll talk about this. I’m now more worried about why Darren and that Darby woman won’t be part of the mission.”
“You’ll find out now,” Darren said as he came around the corner. “Wasn’t eavesdropping, just coming to find you for the briefing. If you want to follow me, we’ll get started.”
Instead of going below deck, they just walked a few meters to a glass enclosed meeting room. It was obviously a room designed to impress visitors and not for general purpose use. Expensive chairs ringed a table made from what looked like a single piece of mahogany. Kinsey was almost afraid to put her boots on the polished wood floors.
