Mega 3: When Giants Collide (Mega Series) (4 page)

Shane just raised his hand and gave everyone the finger as he took the stairs up to the observation deck where he heard Kinsey and Darren talking.

“I’ll call the meeting,” Thorne said to Ballantine.

“Thank you, Commander,” Ballantine said, then looked down at the stains on his khakis from where Lucy had puked on him during the ride from the island to the ship. “Give everyone time to clean up. Say, thirty minutes?”

“Will do,” Thorne nodded.

***

The briefing room looked more like a corporate boardroom than a meeting room on a ship. The walls were paneled in expensive wood while the long table in the middle was made from a single piece of teak. Monitors lowered from the ceiling along the walls except for one side of the room which was nothing but sliding glass doors that looked out onto the clear blue waters of the South Pacific.

“Everyone take a seat,” Thorne said as he sat towards the front of the table. “Lake won’t be joining us since we have to get moving into open waters as soon as possible.”

Darren, Kinsey, Shane, Max, and Darby, all came in and took their seats. Two of the newer additions to Team Grendel came into the room just after them.

In her late forties, with short, bobbed blonde hair and hazel eyes, Dr. Lisa Morganton was known as calm, cool, and collected. In charge of the advanced bio-alternatives division of the company Ballantine worked for, Dr. Morganton was presumed dead in order to be protected from retribution by the Colende drug cartel after having her cover blown as an inside operative. Unfortunately for the doctor, that rouse made no difference since the cartel wanted everyone on the B3 dead.

The other newer addition was former Navy SEAL, Mike Pearlman. A double amputee, Mike had been recruited by a man called McCarthy to pilot narco-subs that Dr. Morganton had designed. Team Grendel had thwarted those plans and recruited Mike once the mission was over, not just because of his skills as an ex-SEAL, but because he had a personal relationship with Gunnar.

It was all very complicated for everyone.

“How the legs doing today, Mike?” Kinsey asked as she looked at his robotic prosthetics. “Still no glitches?”

“None,” Mike said as he sat down, the gyros and servos in his legs whirring then going silent once he was settled. “Morganton and Gunnar have kept them running beautifully.”

“I bet Gunnar has,” Max said, nudging his brother. “Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge.”

“You ever take them off before you do it with Gunnar?” Shane asked Mike. “I bet you do, huh? Give him a little double stump action.”

“What the fuck is double stump action?” Max asked.

“I don’t know, I just made it up,” Shane replied. “Sounds dirty, though, doesn’t it?”

“Totally,” Max grinned then looked at Darby. “Maybe you and I could have a little double stump action later, eh, my little assassin of love?”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Darby frowned, “you have both of your legs.”

“Yet, none of his brains,” Kinsey said, getting a smile from Darby.

“We are not together,” Mike said. “Gunnar has been very clear on that.”

“Clear on what?” Gunnar asked as he stepped into the briefing room. “What’d I miss?”

“Apparently you’re missing some double stump sexiness,” Max said. “Your loss, dude.”

Gunnar looked at the brothers then just took his seat. “Okay, I’m going to ignore that. Sorry I was late, had to make sure Lucy was hooked up to an IV.”

“She going to be alright?” Darren asked.

“She’ll be fine once she’s fully hydrated,” Gunnar said then looked at Ballantine. “So, what’s the hurry that you had me backup all my files and start a satellite transfer?”

“That wasn’t supposed to be public knowledge,” Ballantine said.

“There’s twenty of us on this ship, Ballantine,” Gunnar said. “Everything becomes public knowledge at some point.”

“Like my amazing sexual prowess,” Max said. “I’m sure you hear it echoing through the passageways at night.”

“Yet, we never hear Darby,” Shane said. “Hmmm, I’m thinking this may be a one sided love affair.”

“She’s a pillow biter,” Max whispered loudly. Darby just sighed.

“Boys?” Thorne asked.

“Shutting the fuck up, Uncle Vinny,” Shane said.

“Zippity zoo,” Max added as he pretended to zip his lips.

“Now that is out of your systems,” Ballantine said as he stood up from his chair at the head of the table, “I’m now going to jump right in with both feet first. I hate to be the one to tell all of you, but as of this morning, every person on this ship, as well as the ship itself, has been disavowed by the government of the United States Of America.”

They all stared at him for a minute.

“Does that mean we aren’t citizens anymore?” Max finally asked.

“That means that those of us that were citizens are now considered nonexistent and those that weren’t citizens are considered to be foreign aggressors and added to every watch list on the planet.”

No one said a word.

“It’s nothing special,” Darby said. “You get used to it.”

“You what?” Max asked, whipping his head around to look at Darby. “Whoa, what haven’t you told me about yourself?”

“Almost everything,” Darby said.

“Well, yeah, I knew we had secrets, but being thought of as a foreign aggressor is something you tell your boyfriend,” Max said. “I mean, come on, Darby, I put my penis in you every night. I like to know when my penis is going into an enemy of the United States, because I’m just old school that way.”

“Now I’m going to be sick like Lucy,” Kinsey said.

“You’ve been on US soil lots of times since I’ve known you,” Darren said to Darby.

“See?” she said casually. “Not a big deal.”

“You’re a traitor fucker,” Shane said to Max. “It’s like I don’t even know who you are.”

“Knock it off!” Thorne shouted. “This shit is very fucking serious!”

The brothers were about to respond, but their uncle’s glare stopped them and they kept their mouth shut.

“I have Captain Lake taking us out into international waters since these waters are considered United States territory because of their proximity to American Samoa,” Ballantine said. “He is then plotting a course to someplace that I believe we can be safe from our pursuers.”

“They’re still after us?” Darren asked. “We didn’t lose them after that dust up in Chile?”

“No, unfortunately, we did not lose them,” Ballantine said.

“Do we know for sure they’re cartel?” Kinsey asked.

“We know they are connected,” Ballantine replied. “They may not be cartel themselves, but they have certainly been set on the chase by the cartels.”

“Why are more than one after us?” Shane asked. “Why not just the Colende cartel?”

“Apparently by killing Espanoza, we have upset the balance of power in Mexico,” Ballantine replied. “He had made several alliances with other cartels to fund his creation of the cocaine additive. When we destroyed that, we angered more than just the Colende operation.”

“Dudes need to chill and get over it,” Max said. “They have to be wasting all kinds of money coming after us. Not like they can take us anyway. We fucking kill monster sharks and giant fucking snakes and whatever the hell that thing in Chile was. In the dictionary you’ll find a group picture of Team Grendel under badass.”

“Hooyah,” Shane said and fist bumped his brother.

“Tell them,” Thorne said to Ballantine.

“I am not sure now is the time, Commander,” Ballantine said. “I would like to gather more information.”

“Yeah, and I’d like to retire to a quiet condo in San Diego and watch sports, drink beer, and die happy,” Thorne growled, “and that ain’t gonna happen either.”

“Very well,” Ballantine said, as he slowly made sure to look everyone in the eye that was seated at the table. “I have received some alarming news today.”

“More alarming than the fact that we are all now citizens in limbo?” Shane asked.

“Limbo contest,” Max said. “After the meeting we’ll mix some drinks, non-alcoholic for Kinsey, of course, and then have a limbo contest. It’ll begin the healing process.” He held up his hand as his uncle was about to snap. “Shutting up now, Uncle Vinny.”

“The client that hired the company to dispose of their shark problem has been purchased by an outside entity,” Ballantine said, “and it is believed that outside entity has employed a specific resource of the former client for the explicit purpose of hunting us down.”

“Is it a zeppelin?” Shane asked. “It would be pretty cool to be chased by a fucking blimp.”

“No, Mr. Reynolds, it is not a zeppelin,” Ballantine sighed. “Anyone care to guess what it is?”

“Just tell them,” Thorne snarled.

Ballantine glared at the commander, but let it go.

“They have released another shark,” Ballantine said. “This one is considerably more dangerous than the previous sharks we’ve encountered.”

“Considerably?” Shane asked.

“More dangerous?” Max finished.

“How so?” Gunnar asked, leaning forward in his chair. “Is it larger? Stronger? Better senses? More equipped to track us? Able to get through the triple hull? Be specific, Ballantine.”

“Yes to all of those,” Ballantine said, “and more.”

Gunnar leaned back and his face went white at the prospect. Ballantine looked at everyone else and saw that they were just as pale as Gunnar was.

“There, now we are all up to speed,” Ballantine said as he sat back down. “Let’s open the table to suggestions, shall we?”

Chapter Two- Bigger Problems

The small fishing boat bobbed in the subtle waves that lapped at its sides. Weighed down by a bountiful catch of a mix of mahi mahi, skipjacks, and a couple swordfish, the captain started the engine and carefully steered his boat back towards home, ready to unload and reap the benefits of his catch.

The two hired deck hands were busy folding and stowing nets, packing up lines and hooks, and making sure that everything was strapped down as it should be. The sky didn’t show any hint of a storm or problems with weather, but out on the open ocean, in a boat as small as the one they were on, they knew not to take chances.

“We get quarter split?” one deck hand named Peter asked. A short thick man, he looked like a brown barrel with stubby arms and legs. “That right? We each get a quarter?”

“Nah, bra,” the second hand replied. His name was Hekali, but everyone just called him Hek the Neck because of his long, skinny neck. He shook his head on that neck and glanced towards the captain in the wheelhouse. “We split a quarter. He keeps three quarters.”

“Ain’t right, bra,” Peter said. “We did most of the work. We should get at least half.”

“His boat,” Hek shrugged. “We’d get nothing if we didn’t have his boat.”

“He’d get nothing if we didn’t do it all for him,” Peter complained.

“Is what it is,” Hek shrugged. “Good haul today, so even splitting a quarter will be worth it.”

“Splitting half would be more worth it,” Peter grumbled as he finished folding a net. He arched his back and stretched his sore, tired muscles. “Next time we ask for half.”

“Next time he may not hire us,” Hek said as he wound a rope about his hand and forearm, making sure it was tight and not kinked. He was about to say more to Peter about being careful he doesn’t ruin a good thing, but the words became stuck in his throat as he saw movement far off across the water.

“You okay, bra?” Peter asked him.

Hek still couldn’t answer as he watched the impossible come towards them. Peter turned and followed Hek’s gaze.

“What is that?” Peter asked. “That can’t be what I think it is, bra.”

“Tell the captain,” Hek nearly whispered. “Tell him now.”

Peter nodded and then hurried his short bulk over to the wheelhouse. “Captain! We have a problem!”

***

“Do we have a problem, gentlemen?” Linny asked as the Land Cruiser pulled up to the bar just as she was loading boxes into her Jeep. “You look like you’re in a hurry.”

Four men stepped from the Land Cruiser and Linny’s eyes instantly focused on the weapons they held.

“Tavor SAR series,” Linny nodded as she put her hands on her hips. “Nice guns. Those converted to 9mm or still .223?”

The driver, a large man wearing a black tank top and khaki shorts, smiled at Linny, and then looked down at the semi-automatic rifle he held.

“Good eye,” the man said as he patted his weapon. “9mm conversion it is. That way I don’t have to worry about switching up ammo.” He patted the 9mm pistol on his hip. “Keep it simple, stupid, right?”

Linny just smiled back while she slowly moved her right hand from her hip to the small of her back.

“What are you packing?” the man asked, taking a few steps closer while the other three men stayed close to the Land Cruiser. “No, let me guess. Hmmm. A Walther PPK? Powerful, but fits a woman’s hand well. Not too much of a kick to it either.”

Linny froze, her hand still behind her back.

“Can I see?” the man asked. “I love small arms. Sometimes, I wish I could get rid of these bulky things and just use pistols.”

“Lin? You good?” the bartender asked as he came outside to check on her.

Tank Top’s rifle barked and the man fell, his chest torn open by several rounds.

“No!” Linny screamed as she pulled the pistol from behind her back.

She took two slugs to her right shoulder before she could even get the pistol raised. The impacts spun her about and she slammed into the hood of her Jeep. The pistol fell from her hand and went off as it hit the gravel at her feet. There was a grunt of pain by the Land Cruiser, but Linny barely noticed as she dealt with her pain and slowly slumped to the ground.

“Damn,” Tank Top said as he walked up to Linny. “You nailed Slaps in the foot. Looks like he’s done for a while.”

Tank Top squatted next to Linny and pushed some stray hairs from her forehead. Linny started to spit in his face, but he slammed his right fist into her mouth before she could even get the lugee formed. Teeth cracked and her lips split wide open as he pulled back for another shot.

“Stop,” Linny said as blood poured down her chin. “I don’t know where they went.”

“So, you know why I’m here,” Tank Top said. “Good, good, this’ll go much faster.”

“Are you going to kill me?” Linny asked.

“If I tell you the answer to that then you’d have no incentive to talk,” Tank Top replied.

“I think you already answered my question,” Linny said.

“Far from it,” Tank Top replied as he stood up and kicked Linny’s pistol across the parking lot. “You’re still going to talk in the hopes that I don’t kill you.”

“I already said I don’t know where they’re going,” Linny said. “They left here yesterday afternoon. They could be halfway to Australia by now.”

“Could be,” Tank Top nodded, “but I don’t think that’s where they’re going. Too public. Too much red tape. They’re going to find a place to hole up and hide for a while. Certainly a better place than this. I have to get to them before they do that.”

“Who are you?” Linny asked.

“When you ask a question like that, then I know you expect me to kill you,” Tank Top chuckled. “You’d never ask if you thought you were going to live.”

“They’ll kill you,” Linny said. “You better have an army with you, because that’s what you’ll need.”

Tank Top looked over his shoulder at the two men that were helping Slaps into the Land Cruiser.

“I have an army,” Tank Top said, “of a sorts, and I’m about to have a Navy.”

“Who hired you?” Linny asked.

“Well, aren’t you just the inquisitor,” Tank Top laughed. “Here I thought I’d interrogate you, but you have totally flipped it around on me.”

He pulled the trigger and put a round in Linny’s left leg. She screamed and clutched at her thigh then screamed more as the motion pulled at the wounds in her shoulder.

“I don’t like to be interrogated,” Tank Top said, “brings up bad memories.”

He placed his foot on her thigh and pressed down.

“Your memories, I don’t mind bringing up,” he said as he ground down on the bullet wound. Linny’s scream built until it was only a squeak in her throat. “So, let’s start from the beginning and see what we can dredge up, shall we?”

***

The B3’s engines were pushed to full capacity. Thorne and Kinsey sat on the observation deck and listened to the dull thrum of the engines far below. They watched as the ship cut through the water, slicing the waves in half as if they never existed.

“This place we’re headed?” Kinsey asked. “What has Ballantine told you about it?”

“Research facility,” Thorne said. “Off books.”

“Off what books? The company’s?” Kinsey asked.

“Yes,” Thorne replied. “Ballantine has assured me that only a couple of people know it exists and one of those people is Dr. Morganton.”

“It isn’t a full secret,” Kinsey says, “which means others know and there could be a trail to follow.”

“I mentioned that to Ballantine,” Thorne said. “He says we’ll worry about that when we get there.”

“Where is this place?” Kinsey asked.

“The middle of nowhere. Some uncharted island.”

“Great,” Kinsey said. “Let’s hope it’s not Gilligan’s Island.”

“With Ballantine, it’s more like the Island of Dr. Moreau.”

Kinsey laughed and stretched in her seat. Thorne looked over at his daughter and tried to smile, but what was on his mind wouldn’t let him. He looked back out at the water.

“What were you up to when you were deep in your addiction?” Thorne asked.

“Daddy, you don’t want to know,” Kinsey sighed.

“No, no, I probably don’t,” Thorne sighed with her, “but as commander of this Team, I may need to. I know you lied, cheated, and did whatever you had to in order to stay high. That’s common, I get that.”

“You can pretty much write a script of how a junkie’s life will play out,” Kinsey said.

“A regular junkie, yes,” Thorne responded, “but you aren’t regular, Kinsey. You are a trained Marine and were almost a trained Navy SEAL. You have skills and ways of looking at the world that very few others do.”

Kinsey sat there silent and Thorne tore his eyes from the bright blue horizon and looked at her. He could see the fear on her face, the tension in her neck, the way she gripped the armrests of her chair.

“Time to spill it all, Kins,” Thorne said softly, “because I think who you were, who you became back in that nightmare, has bearing on what is happening to us now.”

“I...I don’t remember it all,” Kinsey said after a few moments. “I have dreams sometimes…”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Thorne said. “I think you do remember what you did. Darren is under the impression you do. He mentioned something you told him a while back. It bugged him and when he told me, it bugged me.”

“He what?” Kinsey snapped. “What the fuck did that ass tell you?”

“Don’t blame him,” Thorne said. “You know he loves you and only wants you to be safe.”

“Maybe,” Kinsey said.

“Well, I’ll let you two work that out,” Thorne said dismissively, “not my deal. What is my deal is what you did while you were strung out. I need to know how you got a hold of all your drugs. Where’d you get the money to live? How’d you survive that long without being taken down?”

“Taken down?” Kinsey asked. “You’re talking like I was part of the business. I wasn’t, Daddy. I was just a junkie like a million others.”

“Don’t go backwards,” Thorne said. “We’ve established you are not like others. Just tell me the truth. We are going to need all the information we can get to fight these guys coming after us.”

“Team Grendel, Ballantine, and the company have nothing to do with my days as a junkie,” Kinsey stated then crossed her arms over her chest like the conversations was done.

“Is that so?” Thorne laughed. “Then why are more than one cartel sending people after us? Why not just the Colende cartel? Espanoza was leader of the Colende cartel. There’s no reason the others should want us dead no matter what bullshit Ballantine spews about cocaine additives.”

He let the words hang there for a minute, but Kinsey didn’t bite.

***

The captain of the fishing vessel had the ship’s throttle pushed to full, but what pursued it kept gaining.

“Has to be a submarine,” Peter said, as he gripped the edge of the doorframe that led into the wheelhouse, his eyes locked onto the shape in the water far behind them. “Look at it. It’s huge. Nothing that big can move like that. Nothing.”

“You ever see a sub with a dorsal fin?” Hek asked. “I haven’t.”

“US Navy,” Peter nodded. “Some government secret. Wasn’t there something on the internet about subs looking like whales off the coast of Mexico a few months back?”

“Just internet bullshit,” the captain said. “Can’t believe anything on the internet. Believe only what you see with your eyes.”

“I see that thing,” Hek said, “but I ain’t believing it.”

“How fast are we going?” Peter asked.

“Twenty knots,” the captain said, “and the engine is going to give out if I keep pushing it.”

“Twenty knots,” Hek whistled. “Still ain’t fast enough. That thing is going at least twice that, maybe more.”

Peter and Hek looked out past the stern of the boat and watched in horror as the thing that chased them suddenly dipped all the way into the water and was lost from sight.

“Captain,” Hek said, “it dove.”

The captain looked over his shoulder and glanced at the empty water behind them.

“What you say? The thing is sixty, maybe seventy feet long?” the captain asked.

“Longer,” Peter said.

“A lot longer,” Hek agreed.

“Eighty? Ninety?” the captain asked. “Can’t be a hundred. Nothing is that big. Not a whale and certainly no shark.”

“It looked longer,” Peter said.

“Bullshit,” the captain replied. “Let’s say it’s eighty feet. That means we need the 30-gauge line. I want you to drop it all. Then get the nets ready.”

Peter and Hek looked at the captain as if he’d just said they were going to fly the boat to the moon.

“What are you standing around for?” the captain asked. “We can’t outrun the son of a bitch, so let’s tangle it up. Get those lines in the water and get ready to toss all of the nets. It can be fifty feet or a hundred feet, for all I care. Doesn’t matter how long it is if it can’t swim and push water through those gills.”