Mega 3: When Giants Collide (Mega Series) (6 page)

BOOK: Mega 3: When Giants Collide (Mega Series)
4.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Thorne leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees. It made his biceps bulge against his t-shirt, showing that even at his age he held some serious walloping power.

“Spill it,” Thorne said to Ballantine. He removed his sunglasses and squinted against the bright sun. “Take yours off. I want to see your eyes.”

“I’m not going to lie to you, Commander,” Ballantine said, but took his sunglasses off anyway. “I’m up here to be perfectly frank.”

“That your first name?” Kinsey chuckled. “Frank?”

Ballantine gave her a small grin then put his focus back on Thorne.

“We’ve lost access to military satellite imaging,” Ballantine said. “I have Carlos working on a hack, but I’m pretty sure we’ve been flagged and there’s no way to get that resource back.”

“What about the company?” Thorne asked.

“Occupied,” Ballantine said. “We are not their number one priority at the moment.”

“Occupied? The whole company?” Kinsey asked. “That seems like a stretch.”

“You have no idea,” Ballantine replied. “I said the same thing to Darby. She suggested I forget about the company and focus solely on the Beowulf III and the people on board.”

“Uncharacteristically empathetic,” Thorne said as he put his sunglasses back on. Ballantine did the same.

“Yes, well, Mr. Reynolds seems to be having a softening effect on Darby,” Ballantine frowned.

“You don’t like that,” Kinsey stated.

“One reason Darby has been so effective in her career is because she roughed up all her soft spots,” Ballantine said. “It could put us at risk if she cares too much for your cousin.”

“Or it could save our lives,” Kinsey said, “because she actually cares whether we live or die.”

“Oh, she’s always cared about that,” Ballantine laughed. “She has had a fondness for Team Grendel from day one.”

“It’s just you are worried she’ll make a mistake trying to protect Max instead of making the right choice when needed,” Thorne said. “Welcome to human nature, Ballantine. It’s something I’ve dealt with for decades leading SEALs. At some point you just have to trust your operators to do their jo
b
an
d
save their comrades.”

“Well, Thorne, if you haven’t guessed by now, trust isn’t my dominant personality trait,” Ballantine said as he stood up and looked out to the water.

“So, no idea when we’re going to get hit by the hired guns?” Thorne asked as he stood as well.

“None, I’m afraid,” Ballantine said. “I have put the feelers out to contacts at dozens of different ports as well as my contacts in the shipping companies. If anyone spots them then we’ll get a heads up.”

“If your contacts are still loyal and haven’t been scared off,” Thorne said.

“Yes, well that’s a good point,” Ballantine said. “Self-preservation is a part of human nature that I am well acquainted with.”

“I bet,” Kinsey said. She looked at the two men and frowned. “Carlos have anything new for us to use if we get in the shit?”

That got a huge smile from Ballantine and all the worry and fears fled from his features.

“Why, yes, Ms. Thorne,” Ballantine beamed, “I believe he has exactly what you and the rest of Team Grendel will need if you indeed get in the shit.”

 

***

 

The smell of shit joined the smell of piss and fuel as Hek clung to the top of the bow of the fishing boat. He looked down at his pants and saw the dark stain spreading down the insides of his thighs. Then he looked past his legs at the last six feet of the boat still above water.

All it took was two chomps from the giant shark and the boat was obliterated. Hek had seen those jaws up close and knew that the shark could have destroyed the boat in one bite if it had wanted to. The beast’s mouth was enormous, like a baleen whales, but full of thousands and thousands of teeth instead of a natural krill filter.

He said a prayer repeatedly, it was something his grandmother had taught him to say when he was small and afraid of the dark. The sun may have been beating down on him, but there was certainly the darkness of death all around and not just because the water was clouded with blood.

Hek felt a jolt and cried out as the bow shook and started to tip to the side. If it turned all the way over, it would fill with water and sink in seconds, then he’d have nothing to cling to. That’s when he realized that he still gripped the knife he normally kept in his boot. He was more than surprised he hadn’t dropped it in all of the chaos. Not that a ten inch blade would do much against a hundred foot predator.

The blade glinted in the sun and Hek looked down at it and his reflection in the metal. He turned it this way and that and squinted every time the reflection hit his eyes. Then he focused past the knife and into the water. There was a darkness below that hadn’t been there seconds before. Hek knew exactly what the darkness was.

Death was coming to get him.

Just as the shark burst from the water, taking the rest of the ship and Hek entirely into its mouth, Hek put his knife to his own throat and dragged it across as fast as possible. He had no desire to be swallowed whole and digested alive. His life was his to take, not some creature from a monster movie.

 

***

 

Tank Top waited until the Zodiac was locked in place and lines secured before he attempted to help get Slaps’ bulk onto the deck of the SS Monkey Balls, a 50 meter cutter outfitted to be ready for almost any contingency. Although he was pretty sure the next couple days would test the MB to its limits. Not that it hadn’t been tested before plenty of times.

“Ready to go see an old friend, girl?” he said to himself.

“What?” Slaps grunted. “What the fuck you saying?”

“Nothing. You good, Slaps?” Tank Top asked. “Need me to carry your baby ass down to the infirmary?”

“Fuck you, Tank,” Slaps grimaced as he tried to put weight on his wounded foot. “I can handle myself.”

“Then go for it, big guy,” Tank Top grinned as he let go of Slaps and watched the man try to hobble his way across the deck, leaving a trail of bloody one-sided footprints.

Slaps made it about six feet before he teetered and then toppled over, his head hitting the metal deck with a loud thunk that sent the seagulls resting up on the communications array screeching and flying into the air.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Tank Top laughed then pointed at Lug. “Go get some help and have Shabby Paul ready for a transfusion. I think our friend has lost a little blood.”

Lug nodded and took off quickly across the deck and into the first hatch he came to.

“What the fuck did you do to Slaps?” a huge black man shouted from the hatchway of the bridge. “You try to shave the fucking ape and he give you shit for it?”

“The weed bitch shot him,” Tank Top said as he jogged to the ladder and climbed up to the bridge. “Actually, she dropped her pistol and it went off.”

“An accidental bullet?” the black man laughed. He was tall, more than half a foot taller than Tank Top, and wore a spotless white t-shirt that had to be a size too small as it hugged the layers of muscle that made up his arms and torso. “Figures it would be an accident to take down that sasquatch.”

“Don’t let him hear you call him that, Bokeem,” Tank Top laughed. “He’ll fucking kill you in your sleep.”

“I don’t sleep,” Bokeem replied, “you know that.”

Tank Top looked out at the five other ships following behind the MB and growled. “They didn’t waste any time getting to us.”

“Can’t be helped,” Bokeem said. “The cartels and Somalis are paying our employer. They want to come, then that’s their deal.”

“As long as they stay out of our way and just act as muscle when we need them,” Tank Top said, “and they don’t forget that this is a job and not just a revenge mission.”

Bokeem only shrugged in reply.

“Didn’t really learn much from the weed bitch,” Tank Top said, “except that they know we’re after them.”

“Ballantine wouldn’t be Ballantine if we caught them by surprise,” Bokeem replied then nodded to the five other ships. “The real question is whether or not he knows we have backup.”

“Lady didn’t say,” Tank Top said, “but it would have been good information to get from her.”

“You leave her alive?” Bokeem asked.

“You fucking kidding me?” Tank Top laughed. “After she shot Slaps?”

“You said that was an accident.”

“Accident or not, it was her gun,” Tank Top said. “Oh, and Took is dead.”

“I was wondering where he was,” Bokeem responded.

“Turned out he was a rapist,” Tank Top frowned. “Even after all that vetting, a perv still got through.”

“Can’t always know what’s inside a man sometimes,” Bokeem said. “Slaps take it hard? He vouched for the skinny fuck.”

“He was the one that put the bullets between the sick fuck’s eyes,” Tank Top replied. “It was cathartic.”

“Look at you and your big words,” Bokeem laughed.

“I graduated high school,” Tank Top said.

“I have a fucking Master’s degree and don’t know when the last time I used the word cathartic,” Bokeem said then slapped his hands on the railing and turned back to the bridge. “Thirsty? I have some beers on ice in here.”

“I’m fucking dying,” Tank Top said. “We killed the bitch outside a bar and I didn’t even think to grab a drink before leaving.”

“You’re slipping,” Bokeem said as they stepped into the cool dark of the bridge.

Tank Top smiled at the sight of the bridge equipment. All of it was next generation technology and part of the upfront payment for taking the job to hunt down Ballantine. Bokeem cracked open a beer and handed it to Tank Top before he opened his and sat down in the Captain’s chair in the middle of the bridge.

Tank Top took a long swallow from his beer, belched, then pointed at a screen that showed a satellite image of the ocean surrounding them.

“The Beowulf is about a day ahead of us,” Tank Top said. “If we push it, we should be able to catch up to them.”

“Weird hearing that name after all this time,” Bokeem said. “I thought we were done with that.”

“Me too,” Tank Top said as he reached out and patted the wall, “but sometimes, you can’t whitewash the past even if you do give it a new name.”

“That new boat of his has some heavy steam in those engines,” Bokeem said. “We may not make much headway if they are pushing it as well.”

“Ace up our sleeve,” Tank Top winked, “don’t forget.”

“That ace could just do us a favor and blow that ship up,” Bokeem said. “That would save us a lot of time and effort.”

“It would also lose us a good amount of money,” Tank Top said. “They want Ballantine alive. The cartels want the junkie and the Somali’s want the junkie’s dad. We let the ace blow up that ship and we no get paid, partner.”

“I know, I know,” Bokeem nodded. “The ace could at least turn on the beacon so we could pinpoint where they’re at.”

“Not yet. Not with the fucking techies they have on that ship,” Tank Top said. “If the ace turns it on too soon, then they’d find the beacon and know they have a traitor on board. Too risky.”

“Are you going to shoot down everything I say today?” Bokeem asked.

“Just the stupid stuff,” Tank Top smiled and took another drink from his beer.

Tank Top swiped at the screen in front of him and widened the view until their ship was nothing but an almost imperceptible dot.

“If they are a day ahead then they have to be within this radius,” Tank Top said as he drew a circle with his finger. “My guess is they are heading that way. Our employers believe Ballantine has some secret asset in that direction, but that’s all they know.”

“Ballantine must be slipping if our employers know that much,” Bokeem said.

Tank Top studied the image for a long while before he turned and fixed his gaze on Bokeem.

“Where’s our competition at?” he asked.

“The shark?” Bokeem replied.

“No, the fucking US Navy,” Tank Top grumbled. “Yes, the fucking shark.”

“You need a nap,” Bokeem laughed. “You are one grumpy mother fucker. The shark is two days behind us.”

“Two days?” Tank Top exclaimed, almost spitting beer across the bridge. “How the fuck did it catch up so fast? That’s not going to give us much time.”

“No, it isn’t,” Bokeem said, “but we’ll have to. We were warned that the fucking thing doesn’t discriminate. It’ll eat the Monkey Balls just as happily as it will eat the Beowulf.”

“We should have fought harder against them releasing that thing,” Tank Top said as he shook his head. “They didn’t need to do that. We know how to clean up after ourselves.”

“My contact said some type of protocol had been executed. They couldn’t have stopped it if they had wanted to,” Bokeem said. He leaned forward and looked out the side window at the bow of one of the companion ships. “I have a feeling the shark is for cleaning up loose ends.”

Tank Top looked out the window as well. “As long as we aren’t one of the loose ends too.”

Other books

Flotsam by Erich Maria Remarque
Unknown by Unknown
Ryan's Love by Charlie Dillard
The Witch Within by Iva Kenaz
Blue Star Rapture by JAMES W. BENNETT
Sunday Best by Bernice Rubens
Ritual Murder by S. T. Haymon
Sting by Sandra Brown