Coastal Fury Boxset (1-3)

by Matt Lincoln

  It was quiet inside the boathouse. Holm and Birn couldn’t take their eyes off the sleek, black hull that rode low in the water. She was about the size of her sister, the Ghost that our team took to take down Cobra Jon, but a little smaller. The hull was partitioned into radar-deflecting angles, and a gun turret laid flat across the top. The hydrofoil wings barely fit inside the boathouse which looked like it could berth a decent-sized yacht.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Header said with pride, “meet Wraith.”

  8

  Header walked up to the aft section and put his palm on an inconspicuous section of the hull. A hatch opened to reveal the interior, with cargo netting and fold-out seating. The front looked like an airplane cockpit and even had pilot and copilot-type seats. In the ceiling was a retractable turret which I’d only heard him talk about when it was still a concept.

  “This is a supercavitating boat,” he explained. “Once we get moving, you’ll be amazed at how smooth and quiet we run. It’s the same idea as to how the Ghost runs. We have added value in ways you won’t get to see because, frankly, your guys like to chase my guys. Those systems are locked down, so don’t even try.”

  “Then what’s the point in you working with us?” Muñoz demanded. “This is a military-grade weapon. We’re diving at a tourist trap and looking for evidence. We could’ve taken a regular dive boat, one with more amenities.”

  “Two reasons,” I answered. “First, we don’t know who’s behind this. If bullets start flying, this is the place to be. Just because we can’t access weapons doesn’t mean Jake can’t.”

  “Plus Wraith is small and fast enough to get in and out of the area with minimal fuss,” Header added. “If someone takes exception to our presence, I can handle it.”

  “What’s the other reason?” Birn wanted to know.

  “Scuttlebutt is that this boat is equipped to detect radiation at surface levels.” I smiled at Header. “Not that I know anything about that. But if it happened to be true, it wouldn’t be a bad tool in our war chest.”

  “I’m thinking there’s one more reason,” Bonnie spoke up for the first time. “It rhymes with ‘ducking pool.’”

  “Maybe,” I said. “That doesn’t make the other points less valid.”

  Header clapped his hands in a single, sharp note.

  “Enough gabbing, people. As you’ll see in the back, there is scuba equipment here, and you don't need to move all those secondhand tanks and fins over here. Get whatever else you need, like those underwater Geiger counters you brought.” He stepped over to me and stage whispered, “Those are pretty damned cool, and if one happened to get ‘lost’ in the Hole, I’m sure your boss would forgive you, right?”

  “I am sure she would not,” I said with utmost sincerity.

  He winked. “Had to try.”

  Wraith had plenty of space for all we needed. I took the copilot seat while everyone strapped into the foldout seats. That baby had sonar, radar, and other capabilities besides weaponry. It was a view few law enforcement types would ever get to see, and I conveniently forgot a lot of it when grilled later.

  “The Ghost cruises at about thirty knots,” Header told us as he warmed the engines. “Her top speed is about fifty. I’m not going to tell you Wraith’s top speed, but I don’t mind telling you that we’re going to cruise at fifty today.”

  Wraith’s engine quietly whirred, and we crept forward. The tarp was no longer anchored at the sides of the boathouse, only the top. I didn’t ask who might’ve been around to release it… rumors had it that he didn’t go anywhere without his mysterious copilot.

  “Supercavitation, friends, is a cool thing,” Header informed everyone. We slid out from under the tarp. “Depending on the setup, the craft shoots out bubbles or vapor from the front of the hydrofoil’s pontoons and washes all the way aft. The difference in pressure between vapor and water propels us forward.”

  He opened the throttle through an easy acceleration, and I felt the hull rise from the water. The elementary operation of a hydrofoil was to get the hull off the surface and reduce drag. With supercavitation, the pontoons sliced through the water faster than any normal hydrofoil.

  “Are we getting to the site or just showing off?” Muñoz complained. “I think we all know how this stuff works.”

  “Spoilsport.” Header laughed. “I don’t get to show off to the good guys.”

  “She actually does have a sense of humor,” I told him with a grin. “Well, as long as you’re one of the good guys.”

  “Damned right,” she chirped. “Vigilantes are no better than pirates.”

  “Not today,” I reminded her with a long side-eye. She was a great team member, but she had a hard and fast view of right and wrong. I suddenly worried that I’d made a mistake. “We’re friends this week. Officially.”

  “Oh, come on, Syl, enjoy it while we can,” Birn suggested.

  Muñoz crossed her arms and kept the frown right-side up.

  “Right then,” Header said in an even tone. “Time to fly.”

  We’d been cruising at about twenty knots for a couple of minutes. Header opened her up, and the boat surged forward, pressing me back into my seat until we topped out at fifty knots. We veered north to go around the numerous cays and sandbars. While piloting, Header was dead serious. He let me watch him work the controls, but he kept my side locked out. Fair enough.

  At the speed we were going, we reached the Lighthouse Reef in a relatively short time. The namesake lighthouse was several miles north at Sandbore Caye. The reef was the second-largest barrier reef in the world, next to the Great Barrier Reef in Australia. Sometimes it amazed me that so many Americans had never heard of such a great spot in our own hemisphere.

  We approached the Great Blue Hole at low speed, and the hull settled into the water. A small handful of small military boats from both Belize and the States had gathered in the area, and we saw smaller dive boats dispatched by the military units at the areas where recreational divers were allowed to explore when the Blue Hole was open. The coordinates for our dive were at a location where the naval types were not. Whether by accident or design, it was appreciated. This was a crime scene.

  “Gear up, people,” I called out as Header opened the hatch. The lower door was a couple of feet above the water, which provided a great dive platform. “Bonnie, get that mini lab open. You never know what we’ll find.”

  While she got to work, Muñoz, Birn, Holm, and I suited up. Each of us carried underwater Geiger counters, and Birn and I carried lead-shielded cylinders in case we found anything radioactive.

  We stepped off the Wraith into the crystal-clear shallows. Rainbows of reef fish, coral, and anemones surrounded us, and most of the life was oblivious to our presence. Thousands of visitors every year probably had that effect. Even the reef shark who passed by at a distance seemed unconcerned.

  We separated into two teams with our usual partners. Muñoz and Birn went east, and Holm and I went west. The local teams were responsible for clearing the shallows, and more experienced divers like us had the sides of the Blue Hole. The tourist areas were getting cleared first so tourists could be allowed back in… and so Belize City could stop losing money from the closure.

  We kicked over to the edge of the shallows. I hovered a moment to appreciate the drop-off. Unlike other locations, this drop-off was protected by some unique circumstances. A long, long time ago, during the last Ice Age, this was dry land with caves and maybe even a steady population. All that changed when too much stone was worn away by water and the structure collapsed. It filled with seawater when the ice caps melted and the ocean levels rose.

  Holm gave me an okay, and I answered with my own. The Geiger counters had a range severely limited by the fact that they had to be almost on top radiation sources in order to detect them when in water. According to the Lemons’ coordinates, we were now on the vertical where they’d been the day of their exposure.

  Reef life faded out and changed as we worked our way
down and swept back and forth, looking for traces of medical waste. Everything looked clean, and Holm didn’t seem to find anything, either. At almost a hundred feet down, the cliff face opened into an enormous cave with the massive stalactites and stalagmites I’d read about. It was one thing to see photos of the algae-covered monstrosity, and a whole other thing to see them for myself. Some were larger than small houses. Others were the size of cars.

  I felt the itch to explore and knew I’d have to return for some rest and relaxation. Soon. This system called my name, but it’d have to wait.

  As we neared the floor of the cave where it met the drop-off, something white caught in my flashlight. This was as far down as we’d planned to dive, and it was getting cold. I flashed my light toward Holm to get his attention. When he turned toward me, I pointed. He flashed his okay and followed as I made for the item.

  For all I knew, it could be random junk that fell from a boat… I was sure there had to be plenty of that in the Hole itself… but when we got within a foot and a half, my Geiger counter started picking up traces of radiation. I handed the counter to Holm and opened my shielded canister.

  The item appeared to be some sort of tag. It was small, and I was lucky to have spotted it. I unclipped a grabber tool from my gear. Since the radiation level was low, I made do by scooping it up with the canister and then screwing the cap on right away.

  Holm handed my Geiger counter back, and we finished our sweep. It was more than time to return to the top. Ascending often seemed to take more time than the dive. Even though we’d taken extra tanks and had technical diver certifications, a hundred forty feet was deeper than we usually went. It was definitely deeper than most recreational dives.

  We surfaced to find Muñoz and Birn had returned empty-handed, which was not a bad thing. Bonnie was happily playing around in her lab, though, and I checked in with her after getting the diving equipment off. Her short black hair was wet, and her floral shirt and shorts were damp, but she didn’t seem to care in the least.

  “Did you dive?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “Yes, I did. I took some small coral polyps and rock, just to check the health of the reef, of course.” She glanced at me over her shoulder. “Before you ask, I got a permit fast-tracked. I couldn’t pass it up.”

  “You went alone?” I cut a sharp look to Header. Bonnie didn’t have enough dive hours to be out there on her own, not at this location.

  “Jake went with me,” she answered without looking up. “We weren’t down for long.”

  I blinked at Header. “It’s great that you took her, but what about Wraith? I’m surprised you left her alone in front of all those military types who would’ve loved to get a look inside.”

  Muñoz snorted. I’m sure she would’ve liked to get a better look herself.

  “They wouldn’t have gotten far,” Header assured me. “Even if they broke the agreement and got close, Wraith would’ve dodged around until I called her back.” He pointed to an oversized watch face on his wrist. “And she would’ve alerted me, as well.”

  “What else does that smartwatch do?” Birn asked with more than a slight sheen of interest.

  Header grinned and shook his head. “If I told ya…”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

  “Ethan, you’re burying the lead,” Holm told me. To the others, he said, “We found something.”

  I held up the canister which now weighed several pounds more than it had when we dove in. The tag and whatever seawater went it with it was staying put until we got to the lab onshore. There, Bonnie and Clyde had access to the kind of tools they needed to examine the tag safely.

  “Wait,” Header said as he gave Bonnie a strange look. “You have a lab in the city, but you brought a mobile lab on my boat for something you aren’t even studying?”

  Bonnie looked over to him, shrugged, and then went back to examining her samples. She even hummed.

  “Yeah,” Holm laughed. “She doesn’t leave home without it.”

  “Yes, I do,” she corrected, “but I wanted it with me in case I got a chance to dive for these samples. They need to be preserved as quickly as possible.” She went back to humming in her happy place.

  “Wrap it up,” I told her. “We’re done here for the day.”

  She tucked a small specimen bottle with a handful of others like it into a box and then stowed them in a padded case. It took her less than five minutes to wipe down her tools, return them to their notches, and then fold the mobile lab up into two easy to carry cases.

  That woman could hustle when she wanted to.

  Everyone buckled in, and we got underway. During the ride back to the hidden berth north of Belize City, my thoughts kept returning to the one thing I’d managed not to think about so far that day. Well, not a thing so much as a person.

  Tessa was flying in that evening, and I had no idea what to expect.

  9

  Header loaned us the boat he’d used to take us to the Wraith. We had at least one more dive, and it was looking more like we’d be taking a submersible out to the site.

  “I have something that might work for you,” Header told me as he backed the Wraith in the boathouse. “We recently acquired a four-person sub. It just barely fits into Wraith, but we’ve made it work. If you find something at the bottom of the Hole, we should be able to collect enough to help your case.”

  “I like how he used ‘acquired,’” Birn rumbled.

  “Right?” Muñoz responded.

  I rubbed the bridge of my nose. This wasn’t supposed to get contentious, but Header had more fun rubbing my teammates’ noses in his vigilante, highly illegal, activities than I’d expected. Then again, I should’ve expected as much. Even during the few months that we served together, he made a sport out of flaunting authority, especially if he just knew he was right.

  “Look, I’m not going to ask questions.” I spoke loud enough for everyone to get the message. “We’re allies for this mission. Jake’s helping us cut corners that would’ve cost us time. That radiation only persists for a week or so before it fades out.” I pointed to the canister. “We’re damned lucky I picked that up.”

  “Not really.” Bonnie shook her head. “Ethan, Dare Lemon’s exposure was too intense for normal medical waste. Yes, we needed to get out here as soon as possible, but that radiation is bad news.” To my raised eyebrow, she added, “Extra bad news. You said that was a little tag. It should’ve been clean by now, even after a couple of days.”

  Muñoz gave me a pointed look. I had a feeling I was going to hear it back at the hotel. The truth was, I’d wanted an excuse to team up with Header. That didn’t mean I was going to be stupid about it. This case really did get a step up with his help, and as long as he and his crew didn’t do anything completely idiotic, we might get to again someday. Technically, I should arrest his ass, but it was hard to look down on an old friend for playing Batman out on the water when most authorities wanted to avoid it.

  “Let me know the plan as soon as you have one,” Header said. “I assume more diving tomorrow to finish clearing that section?”

  “Yeah.” I cleared my throat. “And uh, there’ll be one more passenger.” Until that moment, I hadn’t decided, but this was a case of asking permission was better than forgiveness. “We’re going to be working with a photojournalist…”

  “No.” Jake lost all the humor in his face. “Absolutely not.”

  “She’s a friend.” I kept my tone patient. He didn’t know Tessa, but I did. “MBLIS made a deal to let her cover our investigation. The Great Blue Hole is a World Heritage Site, and that’s on her beat. She won’t say a word about your boat.”

  Header glared at me. He gestured out the back hatch where the others were unloading personal gear. Header was going to get the dive tanks refilled himself, since they belonged to his group, so those were being unloaded separately on the dock. He and I walked up the artfully manicured lawn above the shoreline.

  “What the hell
, Ethan?” he seethed. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”

  “Hey, man, it’s Tessa Bleu. Her uncle is Donald Farr.”

  “Fleet Admiral Farr?” Header’s eyes widened a bit, but he narrowed them again. “He retired, didn’t he?”

  “He’s the editor-in-chief of the National EcoStar,” I explained. “The guy has agendas, but Tessa is her own person.”

  “You know her personally?”

  “Remember the Cobra Jon thing?” I knew full well that he did. Everyone did. I looked over Header’s shoulder rather than meet his eye. “She was a witness in the case.”

  He leaned into my line of sight and then rubbed his eyes. “You had a thing with her, didn’t you?”

  “That has nothing to do with this case.”

  “Like hell, it doesn’t!” Header’s shout carried across the lawn and to the dock where the others stopped for a moment and stared. He waited until they carried on. “Ethan, a journalist is a journalist. They go after stories, and the Wraith is a story. She is not going.” He turned and started walking away.

  Oh boy. I didn’t want to pull the card, but I had to… not because I wanted to be with Tessa, which I did, but because not taking her would cause trouble. Diane had taken me aside before we got on the plane to give me a special order, too late to do anything to argue against it.

  “Jake,” I said in a soft voice, “we have to take her. It’s not my call on this one.” Farr’s connections had made damned sure of that. I didn’t know if Tessa realized how much control that man exerted. “There’s a clause in the contract they whipped up for this mission.”

  Header stilled. “I’m listening.”

  “I’m not supposed to tell you about it, but I am because you’re a friend.” I was betting on a lot of things to go right just by telling him. “They want you to think you have a loose leash. You do, mostly, but if you don’t achieve mission objectives, I have orders to get you into custody.”