by Jake Bible
“We will,” Ballantine said. “Don’t you worry.”
“How many men are still onboard the B3?” Gunnar asked. He looked at Mike, who had his rifle to his shoulder, and nodded towards the hatchway. “Can you see if they are close?”
“They are,” Ballantine replied.
Gunnar finished strapping Diego to the table then went and fetched a rifle for himself.
“Can we take them?” Gunnar asked.
“You can certainly hold them off,” Ballantine replied. “Don’t worry about taking them. Help is on the way.”
“You realize how stupid that sounds, don’t you?” Gunnar laughed as he pulled back the action and chambered a round. “We were supposed to be the help on the way today.”
“Life changes on a peso,” Ballantine said. “Hold tight.”
***
Moshi piloted the sub into the specimen bay as if she had been doing it her whole life. As soon as the bay cleared of seawater, hatches were thrown open and Kinsey, Thorne, and the Reynolds bolted from the sub.
“We’ll need weapons,” Kinsey said.
“Hello, Team Grendel,” Ballantine’s voice said from the PA in the bay. “You are a sight for sore eyes. Where is Captain Chambers? Please tell me we didn’t lose him.”
There was some loud mumbling and shouts from the cargo hold.
“Ah, I see he is under the weather,” Ballantine said. “Will he be okay?”
“He’ll live,” Kinsey said. “But we have no idea what the long term is for him. He drank a ton of seawater with cocaine.”
“It is not cocaine, as you already know, I’m sure,” Ballantine responded. “And you’ll want to get him to start drinking fresh water ASAP.”
Moshi exited the cockpit and nodded at the Team.
“Can you watch him and get him some water?” Kinsey asked.
Moshi nodded again, back to her quiet self.
“Thanks.”
“Punch the fuck out of him if you need to,” Shane said.
“Let’s move,” Thorne said, limping his way to the ladder that led up to the catwalk and the hatch out of the bay. “Do you have eyes on the passageways, Ballantine?”
“We do, Commander,” Ballantine responded.
“Who’s we?”
“Acting Captain Lake, Carlos, Ingrid and myself,” Ballantine replied. “I’ll guide you to the Toyshop, but you will need to hurry. We don’t have much time before this ship is sunk.”
“Sunk?” Thorne asked. “Has the hull been breached?”
“No, not that kind of sunk,” Ballantine answered. “I mean sunk by artillery. If I know Espanoza, he will use the cover of night to attack. That way any story he makes up will be hard to refute.”
“How much time?” Thorne asked.
“An hour,” Ballantine said. “Maybe more, maybe less.”
“Fuck,” Thorne said. “That’s not enough time to do a full sweep of this ship.”
“I know,” Ballantine replied. '”But I have a plan. I’ll get you to the Toyshop then we’ll go from there.”
“We know where the Toyshop is,” Shane said as he looked through the porthole in the bay hatch. He took not getting his head blown off as a sign the coast was clear.
“You don’t know what I know,” Ballantine said. “Just follow my voice and all shall be revealed.”
“That guy enjoys drama way too much,” Max whispered.
“No shit,” Shane said as he tried to shove the hatch open. But it didn’t budge. “Crap. No go.”
“Must have been damaged when Moshi escaped,” Ballantine said. “You’ll have to go up. Once out then just follow my voice.”
“Creepiest breadcrumbs ever,” Max said.
***
Long cables shot from the bottom of the mini-sub and the machine slowed then came to a full stop as Darby reeled in the cables until the lines were tight and the mini-sub stable. She checked her gear, put on a rebreather over her gear, and opened the small hatch set into the floor of the mini-sub. Water splashed up over the threshold, but she ignored it as she dropped a small ladder through.
She climbed down, affixed her mouthpiece, then dropped all the way into the seawater. The light from above was dim as the sun set over Baja Mexico. But Darby didn’t need much light. She oriented herself and swam away from the mini-sub, headed to where the day had all started.
Chapter Eight: What Happens At Sea, Stays At Sea
The sun was blindingly bright as it set across the Pacific Ocean, and Espanoza smiled as he waited for Diego’s report. And waited. And waited. The smile slowly left his face as he turned to the ensign manning the communication’s station.
“How late is he?” Espanoza asked.
“Ten minutes, sir,” the ensign replied.
“That is not like Diego,” Espanoza said. “Something must have happened.”
“Should I hail the Beowulf III, sir?” the ensign asked.
“No,” Espanoza said. “We wait another two minutes, and then I’ll decide the fate of the Beowulf.”
Espanoza stood up from his chair and walked towards the wide windows of the bridge. He looked out at the Beowulf III as it floated in the center of the semicircle of Mexican naval ships. If his brother did not contact him within the next two minutes he had every intention of firing all guns on the research vessel.
Research vessel.
The thought made him laugh. He knew the Beowulf housed almost as much munitions as the ship he was presently on. And he also knew Ballantine could care less about the research the vessel was registered to complete.
A giant, prehistoric whale? He had nearly shot tequila out his nose when he’d heard that was what Ballantine was using as an official story. YouTube video or not, it made no difference. Ballantine was a company man and he used the ruse of research to hide the work the company expected him to complete.
And Team Grendel? Burnouts, washouts, losers, all of them. Yet they were dangerous, he knew that. Commander Thorne had a solid reputation before he left the SEALs in disgrace. Darren Chambers was known as a deadly operator, despite his Moby Dick obsession. The brothers Reynolds were legendary snipers, even after they retired and decided to train hippies on how to protect their pot fields. Those two he would like to get alone in a dark room with two pans of water and a car battery hooked to their balls; payback for the trouble they had caused him and his associates when they had looked to a Northern California expansion.
Then there was Kinsey Thorne. The woman that almost became the first female Navy SEAL in history. Instead, she became just another junkie. Well, almost. He had his suspicions about the woman. Rumors filtered down across the border of the “loco chica” that liked to cut up her dealers instead of paying them. His organization had lost some good providers during the time she was holed up in a San Diego apartment complex known for prostitution and child porn.
Then the providers stopped disappearing. About the same time Kinsey Thorne was ripped from that life by her family and given a second chance with Team Grendel. Espanoza wasn’t one to just let a coincidence like that go and he planned on having a word with Senorita Thorne. If she lived. If not then he didn’t need to worry about it.
There was one he did worry about: the woman called Darby. He had hunted through every database he had access to, and paid quite a few bribes for information where he didn’t have access, but she came up a blank. The official story was she was ex-Israeli Special Forces and Intelligence. Yet, there were no details on missions, or connections to any current members of Israeli command, no way to confirm any of it. And she only had the one name.
Darby.
No first or last name, just Darby.
She was a true ghost in the business and Espanoza did not like ghosts. They had a way of appearing during the most inconvenient times.
“Sir, there’s an incoming message from Naval Command,” the ensign said, bringing Espanoza out of his thoughts. “They are recalling the ships immediately.”
“Recalling? Why? For what reason?” Espanoza
asked, whirling on the young man. “Explain now!”
The ensign flinched and looked around at the other sailors on the bridge for help, but all eyes were quickly averted.
“There is a hostage situation with a cruise ship in international waters,” the ensign said. “I don’t have any other details, but every ship is needed.”
“Well, they cannot have every ship,” Espanoza said. “Respond that we have sustained damage and will be doing repairs through the night.”
“Sir?” the ensign asked. “What damage?”
“I don’t care what damage!” Espanoza roared. “Make some damage up! Tell them what you need to tell them so they leave me and this ship alone!”
“Yes, sir, of course, sir,” the ensign replied and began relaying the information to Mexican Naval Command.
Espanoza turned to the rest of the crew on the bridge. Technically, he wasn’t their captain, but he could give a shit and a half about technicalities at that moment. Ballantine had obviously called in a favor and made a move. Which probably meant Diego was dead. Or worse.
“Does anyone here have a problem with my command of this ship?” Espanoza asked. “If you do then you may leave immediately. I do not want troublemakers on board my ship.”
There were plenty of scared faces, but no objections were spoken.
“Good,” Espanoza said. “I want all men to battle stations now. I am not going to sound the alarm. That would alert our enemy. Just make it happen.”
The men all stood there at attention, unsure of what to do next since pretty much every protocol had been broken since Espanoza had stepped foot on the ship.
“Do I need to shoot someone in order to be heard?” Espanoza asked.
The men moved then, all hurrying to their stations so they could issue orders and prepare for battle.
Espanoza sat back down in the captain’s chair and frowned. He didn’t like how things were going. He had no doubt he would be triumphant, and retrieve his product, but he was tired and wanted it to all be over.
***
“The call has been made and ships are on the move,” Ballantine said to the others. “Now open the wall so we can get the B3 back.”
Carlos opened the secret entrance to the Toyshop and rolled his eyes at the disbelieving stares from Team Grendel, who stood gaping at the suddenly missing wall.
“I’m not going to explain it,” Carlos said. “Just get in here so you can get your gear and do your jobs killing people.”
“It is good to see you all,” Ballantine said as Team Grendel walked into the Toyshop and the wall behind them became just a wall once again. “I have to say I was getting separation anxiety with you off the ship. Let’s never part again.”
“Shut up, Ballantine,” Thorne said. “I’m in no mood, or shape, for your weird bullshit. Talk sense or get some knocked into you.”
“Direct and down to business,” Ballantine laughed. “That’s why I hired you.”
“You hired me because I knew how to put together a Team and do the job I’m given,” Thorne said. “Did you notice how I didn’t list ‘listen to crazy talk’ in there?”
“Hey,” Lake said. “Darren going to be okay?”
“He’ll be fine,” Kinsey said. “I hope.”
“Good,” he nodded and stepped out of the way.
“Modified M-4s,” Ingrid said as she pushed a cart past Lake and over to the operators. “Six extra magazines apiece. Full body armor as well as NVGs.”
“NVGs?” Shane asked. “What are we going to need night vision goggles for?”
“Because I’m having the lights turned off,” Ballantine said. “In fact, I’m going to shut down all of the power to the ship except for emergency backup.”
“You can do that from here?” Max asked.
“No, unfortunately, or I would have employed that trick earlier,” Ballantine replied. “But I know a guy.” He nodded to Ingrid and she handed each of them new coms.
“Scrambled frequency,” Ingrid said. “I just put the code together a few minutes ago so it’ll be hard for Espanoza to tap into. We’ll have the ship back before he gets through.”
“Thank you, Ingrid,” Ballantine smiled. He cleared his throat and activated his com. “Cougher? Can you read me?”
“Yeah, I hear ya,” Cougher said. “Are we on?”
“We are,” Ballantine replied. “In exactly five minutes, I need you to cut the power to the ship. Do not disable the ship, we will need to be mobile at some point soon. But just make it so the power is out and if anyone comes to investigate, as we know they will, they won’t be able to get the ship operational for some time.”
“But you want me to be able to get it operational right away once the bad guys are dead, right?” Cougher asked.
“Exactly,” Ballantine said. “Will you be able to do that?”
“Yeah, I can do that,” Cougher said.
“Good,” Ballantine replied. “Now take the com out of your ear and destroy it. Don’t use that com again. You’ll know when we need the power again.”
“You got it,” Cougher said.
Ballantine smiled at Team Grendel. “You’ll probably want to get suited up. The clock is ticking and we need to get you out of the Toyshop before we lose power.” He turned from the Team and tapped his com again. “Gunnar? Can you hear me?”
***
“I can,” Gunnar replied as he fetched a tube of smelling salts from the med kit on the counter. “You sure about this?”
“I wouldn’t be doing it if I wasn’t,” Ballantine said over the com. “Now, is our guest in place?”
“Yes,” Gunnar said as he looked over at the unconscious and bandaged form of Diego. The man was strapped to a table in the far corner with Mike sitting directly underneath. “It’s going to get very dark in here when that power goes out.”
“That’s the point, Gunnar,” Ballantine said. “Just get to a secure part of your lab and wait it all out.”
“I’ve been more than just a bystander today, Ballantine,” Gunnar said. “I’ve held my own.”
“I know you have,” Ballantine replied. “You are also wounded. Get someplace safe, Gunnar. I’m not saying that because I don’t think you are capable of fighting the good fight, I say that because you are too valuable to waste in a firefight.”
“Fine,” Gunnar said. “How much time do we have?”
He walked over to the table Diego was on and handed Mike the smelling salts.
“Two minutes,” Ballantine said. “Good luck.”
“Yeah, you too,” Gunnar said.
***
“Half of you will need to head to the engine room and the other half to Gunnar’s lab,” Ballantine said. “I would engage silently, if you can, until you reach your destinations. The idea is to draw Espanoza’s men to the two locations. Thus splitting them in half and making sure we know where they are.”
Thorne watched Ballantine for a minute then smiled. “That’s plan’s not half bad, Ballantine.”
“That is a high compliment coming from you, Commander. Ready?”
“Team Grendel? Ready?” Thorne asked.
“Ready,” they responded.
“Then lets get out of this Toyshop,” he said.
Carlos audibly groaned.
The wall went away and they stepped out into the passageway. Then the lights went out.
“Cougher was early,” Ingrid said.
“It appears so,” Ballantine sighed. “That means we are exposed with this wall open. Good thing we know where the guns are.”
Team Grendel powered up their NVGs and the world was illuminated in greens and greys.
“You sure you’ll be okay exposed like this?” Thorne asked, looking at Ballantine.
“We’re good,” Lake said. “We do have flashlights, you know.”
“No lights,” Ballantine said. “That’ll draw them to us. We don’t want that.”
“Just saying,” Lake said. If there had been light they would have seen him shru
g.
***
The last rays of the sunset faded to purple then to dark blue and finally black. The lights on the Beowulf III’s deck twinkled in the night then went dark.
“What’s happening?” Espanoza asked. “Why did they go dark?”
“Sir, their engines have shut down,” the ensign said. “They may have had some malfunction due to damage.”
“What damage?” Espanoza asked. “The ship has been just sitting there all day long!”
“Perhaps during a gunfight the engines were damaged,” the ensign suggested. “Not that there were officially any gunfights on the ship. They are our ally and there would be no cause for gunfire at anytime.”
Espanoza’s eyebrows raised and he laughed.
“I like you,” he said. “There may be a place for you in my other endeavors.”
“Yes, sir,” the ensign said. He had zero intention of joining Espanoza in any other endeavors. He just wanted to live through the one he was stuck in.
“Get me someone on the radio,” Espanoza ordered. “I don’t care who it is. Juts get me someone that will answer their damn radio. I want to know what exactly is going on over there.”
“Yes, sir.”
***
Rising slowly from the water, Darby estimated the distance to the marina hangar bay as close to one hundred yards. With her NVGs activated, she counted no less than ten men standing on the dock outside of the hangar, walking back and forth, their attention on everything from the sky to their shoes.
Amateurs. At least by Darby’s standards.
But heavily armed amateurs.
Keeping her legs kicking below in a slow rhythm, Darby lifted her hands out of the water an inch at a time so there was zero noise except for the lapping of the waves against the dock’s pilings. She held an H&K MK23 with a KAC sound suppressor attached. Underneath the barrel was a LAM (laser aiming module) that allowed her to put three dots that were only visible to her NVGs on any man she wanted.
She watched the random movements of the ineffective sentries and took aim. She squeezed off ten rounds. Each man fell, some into the water, some onto the deck. Darby slipped back under the water as rifles clattered against the deck boards. By the time other men came out to investigate, she was lost from sight; the night returned to gentle waves and the sounds of sea birds.
