From the Deep (15 page)

CHAPTER 34

Ever since retirement, Paul Milla had wanted to swim with sharks. It had grown from a half-baked idea when he first saw a documentary on the Discovery Channel, to an obsession that had been financially out of reach until earlier that year. A supervisor in the warehouse where he worked had drunk a few too many lunchtime beers and run him down in a forklift truck. He had suffered shattered ribs, crushed vertebrae, and a broken leg.  The doctors told him from the start that he would make a full recovery, even if the chances of him going back to work were slim.

It was only later, deep into his gruelling rehabilitation, when he was trying to figure out how he would be able to pay for the house and feed his family, when a word popped into his head that could solve all his problems.

Compensation.

He took some legal advice, more out of curiosity than with any intention of making a claim. When his legal team told him he could be looking at a hefty settlement and his wife chipped in to convince him it was money that he deserved, he reluctantly filed the claim, and was astounded with the outcome. He came out of it with a seventy-five grand pay out. The supervisor who had run him down did a hundred hours unpaid work for the community. Good deal.

Booking the trip to California was pretty much the first thing he had done when the cash landed in his bank, and he was now moments away from actually achieving his dream.

“Are you sure this is a good idea, honey?”

“We’ve already been through this. It’s perfectly safe. The sharks won’t be able to get anywhere near me. I’ll be fine.”

He looked at the man who would be responsible for overseeing the dive – a bronzed, blond haired, blue-eyed Australian named Greg Michaels, who was waiting patiently in his wetsuit for the Milla's to finish their dispute. With his wife for the time being silenced, Paul forced his body into the charcoal grey wetsuit, hiding his scar covered back from the heat of the sun.

“You ready there, mate?” Greg asked, making a few final checks to the cage.

“Absolutely, I’ve been ready for this my entire life. What if the sharks don’t show?” he asked as he zipped up his wetsuit.

“Oh, they’ll show. Seen a few big ones out already earlier this morning.”

“I guess for you it’s no real thrill anymore is it?”

“It’s always a thrill, mate, although with over a thousand dives under my belt, it takes something a little bit different to get my blood pumping.”

“Like what?”

“You ever heard of free diving?”

“No, what’s that?”

“Well, it’s pretty much the same as going in the cage, only without the cage.” Greg said with a grin.

Paul glanced over to his wife, who was now snoozing, iPod earphones wedged in her ears as she soaked up the California sun.

“Could someone like me do that? I mean swim outside the cage?”

“I wouldn’t advise it as a first timer. Trust me, you’ll get enough of a thrill from inside, especially if one of those big buggers from this morning come to take a look.”

“How big?”

“Sixteen footer. Came right to the cage to take the bait.”

“But to be outside the cage…” 

“No sense in running before you can walk, buddy. Maybe get this one done first and we can look at that next time.”

“I can pay. Whatever it takes.”

“It’s not about the money, mate, it’s more about the safety aspect.”

“I thought you said it was perfectly safe?”

“Inside the cage it is. Outside, it’s a whole new ball game. These things are predators, Mr Milla. Remorseless killing machines. Sometimes what happens is that they frenzy at the meat we put in the water to draw them in and the ocean gets cloudy with blood and chunks of flesh. Sometimes when that happens, a shark could mistake someone outside the cage for a floating piece of meat, which, I suppose is what you are. I had an eight foot tiger shark take a bite out of my forearm once, let me tell you, I almost shit my wetsuit.”

Paul looked at Greg’s unscarred tanned forearms, raising his eyebrows. As if reading his thoughts, Greg laughed.

“Chainmail wetsuit. It still hurts when they take a nip, but it makes sure you come back out of the water with all the limbs you went in with.”

“I want to do it.”

“Maybe next time, let’s do the cage for now and see how you like it. Sometimes when you’re down there, it’s not what people expect.”

Paul looked at the cage. Ten minutes earlier he couldn’t wait to step inside, now after Greg’s story, it all seemed too safe. Too pedestrian.

“I want my first experience of this to be the best it can be.”

“The cage is a pretty amazing experience, mate.”

“I’m sure it is, but I want more. I’ll give you an extra two thousand to take me down outside of the cage.”

Greg shook his head. “Sorry. Can’t do it.”

“Three grand.” Paul pushed, a thin ghost of a smile starting to form on his lips. Greg squirmed where he sat on the transom.

“I really can’t. I’m responsible for you out here and it wouldn’t be ethical.”

“Five grand, and I’ll sign a disclaimer absolving you from all responsibility.” Paul said, holding out a hand ready for Greg to shake.

Greg squirmed and looked at the cage, then at Paul’s outstretched hand before reluctantly shaking it.

“Fine. Three things. First, I’ll need to draw up that disclaimer before we go anywhere. Second, when we’re there, you do exactly as I do. You watch me like a hawk. Where I move, you move.”

“Got it.”

“Three. Don’t be a hero. These are wild animals, and if you screw around trying to touch them, you’re likely to get yourself killed. That’s something I don’t want to have to deal with.”

“Me either,” Paul agreed, feeling the rush of excitement at what he was about to do.

“Okay, wait here.” Greg said, heading below deck. Paul waited, looking out over the glass smooth ocean and gorgeous, cloudless sky. It was a perfect day. Greg returned and handed Paul the chainmail suit.

“Put this on.”

“It’s heavy,” Paul replied as he dropped it to the floor and started to struggle into it. “Aren’t you wearing one?”

Greg shook his head. “Only got that one, and since you are paying so much for this, I guess you better be the one to wear it.”

Paul paused, and looked Greg in the eye. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Only if you don’t do exactly as I say. We’re only going there to observe. No interaction. As long as you do as I do, we’ll be fine.”

Paul nodded and continued to climb into the steel mesh wetsuit.

“Oh, one more thing. Don’t think because you are wearing that suit that these things can’t hurt you. They might not be able to get through it, but they can still mangle you pretty badly. Are you sure you want to do this?”

Paul hesitated. For a split second, there was doubt. The cage would be safer, but he was sick of safe. He had lived his entire life safe. He wanted a real thrill, a genuine experience he could tell his friends about back home and watch them look on in envy. He could go in the cage anytime. This truly was a unique opportunity. 

“I’m sure. Let’s do it.”

“Okay, let’s get to it and see if we can draw in some sharks.”

The
Victorious
cut through the ocean, racing in pursuit of the creature. In the control room, Andrews stood at the shoulder of the radar operator, watching as they closed on the signal. Russo walked in, striding over to the console.

“Give me the latest,” he snapped as he squinted at the radar screen.

“We have it on screen, although we’re struggling to keep up. It’s fast.”

“Why is it in such a hurry?”

“We think it’s hunting, which is good for us.”

“Oh, and why is that?”

“Because if it’s occupied with trying to feed, it’s not paying attention to the sound of our boat and trying to attack us.”

“I see,” Russo said, showing the smallest flicker of uncertainty.  “Well, speed up, I don’t want us to lose this thing now that we have it.”

“This is as fast as we can go. I have it under control.” Andrews said, giving Russo a sour look.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“You know exactly what it is. What was all that business out on deck?”

“Don’t worry about that, I was just setting some ground rules.”

“With a pistol? They’re civilians.”

Russo turned to face Andrews. “It’s obvious you have something to say, so spit it out.”

To Russo’s surprise, Andrews met his gaze. “You need to keep me in the loop on what’s happening here.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Russo said, offering a dry smile.

“I thought you were going to talk to her, not put a gun to her damn head.”

“It wasn’t to her head, it was her assistant, and in my experience, a gun often drives the point home better than words.”

“Just remember, this is my trip. My project. You can’t freeze me out and expect me to go along with it.”

Russo laughed, drawing a few secretive glances from the crew.

“Don’t be so naive. Do you really think you are in charge of anything here?”

“It’s my project,” he repeated. “You wouldn’t know about this thing if it wasn’t for me.”

“Really?” Russo said, extending his grin. “I think you give yourself way too much credit. For the sake of clarity, I’ll tell you exactly how this operation runs. This is
my
operation. Funded by
my
superiors who asked
me
personally to oversee this entire endeavour. Despite whatever you may think, we aren’t equals here. You work for me, as does everyone else on board this ship. True, my methods are unorthodox, but they get results. If you have a problem with that, I might suggest you retire to your cabin until this is all over.”

“This was supposed to be a discovery mission, not a chance for you to flex your muscles.”

Russo smiled and shook his head. “You really do believe that, don’t you?”

Andrews didn’t reply, and instead concentrated on calming the rage that was bubbling in the pit of his stomach.

“Just as I thought. Look, I don’t want to clash with you. Truth is that I can use you to help me to make sure this operation runs smoothly. I don’t need to remind you that this project has cost a hell of a lot of money, and taking into account this misunderstanding about the power structure, it is, according to the paperwork at least, your idea.”

“So, what you are saying is if this thing all goes belly up, it’s me who will be dragged over the coals?”

Russo didn’t answer. His smug expression said it for him.

“You really saw me coming with this didn’t you, Russo?” Andrews said, trying to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach. “I was a ready-made scapegoat for you to do whatever the hell you want out here without having to take any responsibility for it.”

“Don’t worry,” Russo said, his smug grin still in place, “you still have one thing going in your favour.”

“Oh really, and what’s that?”

“Me.” Russo said, finally losing his wide, slick grin. “As you know by now, I always win. Keep that in mind, and both of us will come out of this fine. Choose not to, and I can’t guarantee what that might mean for you and your career.”

“You don’t scare me. I don’t appreciate threats.”

“It’s no threat, just an observation.”

Russo held out a hand to Andrews, the gold ring on his finger shimmering in the gloom. “Now, can I count on you?”

Andrews had always been a good judge of character, but as he tried to penetrate that dark, emotionless gaze, he found in this instance, Russo was unreadable.

Better the devil you know

As much as he hated himself for it, he reluctantly shook hands with Russo.

“Good, I’m glad we resolved that little misunderstanding. Now, let’s get back to tracking our fish, shall we?” he added, turning back to the radar.

Andrews joined him in looking at the screen, however he wasn’t really watching. His brain was still overloaded with information, and if the instincts he had learned to trust over the years were right, he needed to tread very carefully.