The Loch Ness Legacy (31 page)

She reached out and was pulled from the water, coughing and trembling as they sat her down. Alexa crouched next to her and whispered in her ear. “Did it work?”

Brielle nodded and coughed again.

“She’s okay,” Alexa said to the gathered crowd. With the glasses, her red hair covered by the hat, and the cops’ focus on the near-drowned woman, no one gave her a second glance.

“Oh, my God,” Brielle croaked, latching onto the attending policemen. “Thank you so much!”

The two men beamed at her, and one said, “We’re just glad you’re all right, ma’am.”

After an attempt to convince Brielle to seek medical attention, they accepted her decision to decline and went back to their stakeout, unaware that they’d helped the two women they were looking for. She and Alexa hurried back to the car.

Under a blanket, Brielle changed out of her wet clothes and into a dry set, depositing the dirty and smelly togs in the car park’s dust bin. She was still shivering as Alexa drove them away, headed back to Drumnadrochit for their sunset cruise.

Jerry Yount, the captain of the
Sedna
, listened to Tyler and Grant tell their story, the creases in his ruddy face deepening with every new revelation. He’d been a ship’s master for more than twenty years and sailing on boats for twice that long, so Tyler was sure the old sea dog had thought he’d heard it all. Yount was being disabused of that notion quickly.

“You’re telling me that you two think the Loch Ness monster is real?” Yount said when they were finished telling him why they’d had to sneak on board. Grant leaned against the wall of the captain’s cabin and sipped a cup of tea, his hands quivering.

“Not only real,” Tyler said. “We need to find it. Tonight.”

“I thought we were out here doing a sounding survey. At least your odd request for outfitting the GhostMantas makes sense now.”

“Sorry about the deception. I was hoping you’d come across something in your search.”

“The closest we got was a few logs floating on the surface.”

“When can we leave?” Grant asked.

Yount shook his head. “Can’t. The police ordered me to stay docked here until tomorrow. They’ve even got the loch’s only rescue boat stationed in Fort Augustus temporarily to keep an eye on me in case I cast off without permission.”

“They’re hoping we’ll show up here,” Tyler said. “They probably also have the Gordian offices in London or Glasgow staked out. They probably think you have a better chance of smuggling us out of the country.”

“Just say the word.”

“I appreciate the offer, but we’re not criminals. However, it could take days for them to sort out what happened, and we don’t have that kind of time.”

“Then what do you need?”

“Grant and I need to borrow one of the GhostMantas.”

Yount shrugged. “It’s your company. You can do what you want with it. There’s only one here, but it’s charged up and ready to go.”

“Where is the other one?”

“That’s a good question. It should have been back an hour ago. We haven’t been able to contact the operators. I’m starting to get concerned.”

Tyler frowned at Grant. Coincidences hadn’t been good to them lately.

“Where was it searching?” Tyler asked.

Yount showed them on a map of the loch. The grid section where it was last heard from was near Urquhart Castle.

“Let’s hope it’s just a busted radio,” Tyler said. “We’ll keep an eye out for them.”

“It’s a big lake. What about calling in a helicopter for the search?”

“If we call in a rescue chopper,” Grant said, his voice a husky rasp, “it’ll mean giving up on the search for Nessie. We’ll have boats all around us.” His ability to speak had been deteriorating rapidly throughout the day, causing Tyler to reconsider whether he should bring Grant along on the mission. He felt damned either way.

“My men might be in trouble,” Yount said.

Tyler wrestled with the decision, weighing the need to search for Yount’s men with the consequences of not finding the Altwaffe antidote. If Zim was responsible for the disappearance, they could be dead already. A damaged radio wasn’t serious, but if it were a major equipment malfunction, the odds of finding the men in time to save them was a million-to-one. Tyler had to play the odds.

“It won’t be long until dark,” he said, “and by the time the police believe you aren’t trying a ruse to distract them, the sun will have gone down. Give us until an hour after dusk. If you haven’t heard from your men by then, bring in the police to scour the loch.”

After going a few more rounds, Yount grudgingly agreed with Tyler’s logic.

“All right, then,” Yount said. “Come on.”

They left his cabin and took a circuitous route below decks so they could come up within the covered section of the ship unseen from the outside.

Tyler felt the weight of the moment as they walked. Grant was shuffling along doing his best to hide his illness. Yount might not have noticed, but it was painfully obvious to Tyler. Then there was trying to avert the war brewing in the Middle East, and the fact that he had dragged Alexa along into this mess. He was so wrecked about turning her into a killer that he hadn’t had the heart to tell her Michael Dillman’s body had been recovered from Puget Sound with two bullets in his head. Aiden mentioned it when Tyler got the update on Laroche’s status, which was that he was still comatose but showing some response to stimuli.

All Tyler could do was focus on the task at hand, which at least provided some distraction from his morbid thoughts.

They entered the launch bay to find the GhostManta nestled in its cradle. Tyler hadn’t seen it since they began testing it last winter, so he admired anew the sleek lines of the submarine.

Modeled on the form of a manta ray, the Ghostmanta was the brainchild of a design student named Caan Yaylali. Originally meant to be used as a camera platform for documentary videographers interested in recording sea creatures at great depths, Gordian had modified the design to create a multi-purpose sub that could be used for underwater maintenance and surveying, particularly for the oil and gas industry. After the blowout of the Deepwater Horizon drilling platform in the Gulf of Mexico, in which it had taken months to cap the sea-bottom well, Gordian saw the opportunity to produce a speedy and flexible vessel for performing undersea repairs. The two GhostMantas aboard the
Sedna
were headed to a North Sea oil rig for testing when Tyler had requested that Miles divert them to Loch Ness.

The black sub’s wings were used to stabilize the craft and pitch it up and down underwater while the fin-like rudder steered it. On the surface, the GhostManta performed like a boat, but when it dived, it flew like an airplane. Tyler had taken it out for several test runs. Although that had been six months ago, it wouldn’t take long to familiarize himself with the controls again.

The sub’s operators met them in the shed, as the rear covered hangar was called, and talked Tyler and Grant through the latest updates. The sub was propelled by two battery-powered pump jets similar to the ones on the US Navy’s new Virginia-class nuclear subs and could reach a speed of twenty knots. That would get them to their pre-arranged rendezvous by Urquhart Castle in little more than thirty minutes, just as darkness was falling. Of course, the sub’s regular pilots would have been much more adept at handling the craft, but Tyler couldn’t ask them to defy the police or risk another run-in with Zim.

While Tyler would pilot the sub, Grant’s main job would be to operate the firing controls. The additional modification Tyler had asked for from Yount was a spear gun, one mounted on each side of the cockpit. But this spear wasn’t for killing. It had two purposes. The first was as a biopsy tool. The spear was a customized soil sampler that had been altered to capture a tissue sample from Nessie. It had a high-tensile filament lead which would be used to retract it once it had lanced through skin, bringing back a piece of flesh the size of a toilet roll tube.

The second purpose was to implant a low-frequency radio transmitter. If the sample retrieval failed, they would be able to follow the creature in an attempt to get another.

Once they were brought up to speed on the controls, Tyler and Grant squeezed into the tandem cockpit, Tyler in front and Grant in back.

Before they closed the canopy, Yount handed Tyler a short-barrel rifle and some extra ammo.

“We keep this hidden on board for when we travel through unsavory parts of the world.” When he saw Tyler’s surprised look, he added, “Pirates are getting bolder these days. You might need it if you run into this Zim character. I don’t want to lose any more people.”

Tyler thanked Yount and stowed it in the footwell beside him. He closed and latched the canopy, while Grant made the final checks on their environmental systems.

“How are you doing back there?” Tyler asked through his earpiece.

“Ready for warp speed, Cap’n,” Grant said, trying to sound jauntier than he had looked, the words coming out like they’d been spoken by a buzz saw. However, as long as Tyler heard him say something, he wasn’t going to doubt Grant’s ability to carry out the mission.

The shed’s rear door rolled open, revealing the fading light outside. The unique configuration of the ship was designed to facilitate launching and capturing the subs. An inclined ramp extended into the water as the door raised. The GhostManta was latched onto a dolly that descended the ramp until the sub was in the water, at which point the latch would release. When the sub was ready to be pulled back in, it would simply maneuver to the stern and mate with the dolly, which would draw it back up the ramp and into the ship. Based on the well decks used by amphibious assault ships, the system made the launch and capture process go faster, more smoothly, and with less potential for damage than with a traditional crane.

Tyler gave a thumbs up to Yount, who nodded for the dolly to be lowered. The GhostManta eased down the ramp, and Tyler could see a couple watching them from a sailboat docked behind them. As long as they didn’t raise the alarm, the policemen watching the bow would never know the sub launched. The boaters watched intently and seemed content to snap a few photos with their phones.

Water surged around the sub as it reached the aft end of the ramp.

“All systems are nominal,” Yount said into Tyler’s ear. “Are you a go?”

“We’re ready. We’ll submerge as soon as we’re free.”

“Understood. Good luck, gentlemen.”

Tyler felt a lurch as the dolly released, and the GhostManta eased into the water. Tyler filled the ballast tank, and the sub sank until the canopy was covered. The sonar told him he had only a few feet of clearance above the canal bottom until they reached the open loch, so he’d need to be careful not to ground the vehicle. Tyler pushed the throttle, and the propellers whirred to life.

With a muted whine, the sub cruised into the darkness ahead.

Zim was impressed by the technology packed into the GhostManta, particularly the fiber-optic periscope that allowed him to observe the Gordian ship while submerged. A dozen boats had already passed him and Pryor without noticing the tiny scope protruding from the water.

The view revealed Locke’s surreptitious boarding of the
Sedna
, frustrating Dunham’s futile attempt to prevent him from going forward with his search for the monster. Zim knew it wouldn’t work; Locke was too resourceful. He silently patted himself on the back for his wisdom in using the sub to spy on his nemesis.

Then he’d seen the second GhostManta launch from the rear of the sub tender, and Zim was sure Locke and Westfield were inside. He let them go by before swinging around to follow with Pryor acting as the sub’s pilot.

Although the sub was a marvel of sophisticated equipment, it did have one weakness. The passive sonar was processed by a computer that projected a head-up display for the pilot and navigator. Any object that was in the sonar’s field of view was shown on the three-dimensional image collimated for the operator’s eyes so that glasses weren’t necessary. The disadvantage was that it showed only what was in front of the sub. Since it wasn’t a military vessel, it wasn’t a critical problem, and the view was supplemented by a rear-view camera, although it could penetrate just a few feet through the peat-rich water. As long as Pryor kept them in Locke’s baffles, he’d never know he was being followed.

Pryor accelerated until Locke’s sub was visible on the display, its outline perfectly rendered in the HUD. He slowed to keep a respectable distance behind as they cruised up the loch.

The sub’s original pilots had been convinced to be helpful in explaining the GhostManta’s operation, which Pryor had absorbed easily. By the time they had reached the southern portion of Ness, he had become proficient enough in piloting the sub, but Zim credited that primarily to the designers. Care had been taken in making the controls simple to use, modeling the stick, rudders, and throttle on the ones in an airplane’s cockpit. Important switches and knobs unique to a submarine were well-labeled, and the rest were accessed by touch screens that looked like those found on a smartphone.

Zim was uneasy about leaving Dunham to coordinate the preparations on the
Aegir
. Her constant questioning of his tactics had become intolerable, but at least he could be satisfied that she would get hers when they were done here.

What he hadn’t figured out yet was Locke’s strategy. If the journal had been incinerated, the Lockes would have no way to know what Edmonstone had divulged about his encounter with the creature. But the fact that they were here must have meant they had some clue about how to find Nessie.

Which is why Zim had to be ready to respond if Locke were successful. Zim was sorely tempted to take him out right now, but the uncertainty of what Locke was up to prevented him from taking the shot. Soon, though.

Zim had the means to sink him, thanks to a modification that had been made to the sub. In addition to the retractable claws that could be extended from the streamlined body for maintenance work, the sub had been equipped with two launchers that were aimed like torpedo tubes. They’d been designed to be loaded with some kind of spear, which was ejected by compressed air.