Mega #02 Baja Blood (15 page)

“Right,” Lake said. “Because that’s gone so well in the past.”

Lake popped open a small compartment and pulled out a Desert Eagle. He ejected the magazine, made sure it was full, then slapped it back into the pistol. He racked the slide and set the gun by the wheel.

***

“Where should you be?” Ballantine asked Carlos.

“In the bay with Moshi,” Carlos frowned. “Working on the sub.”

“Exactly,” Ballantine said. “You had your fun showing off your new toys, now get back to work.”

Carlos glared, but didn’t argue. He grabbed up a tool bag from the counter and stomped out of the armory.

“Why are you so hard on him?” Ingrid asked as she gathered her own tools. “He idolizes you.”

“Does he?” Ballantine replied. “I didn’t think he idolized anyone but himself.”

“Please,” Ingrid laughed. “He hates himself. That’s why he’s such a jerk. He knows what happened and I don’t think he’ll ever live it down.”

“He shouldn’t,” Ballantine said.

Ingrid frowned and punched Ballantine in the shoulder. Hard.

“Ow!” Ballantine exclaimed. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“What happened to the first Beowulf wasn’t his fault,” Ingrid said. “You know that so stop acting like it was.”

“He could have done more,” Ballantine replied, rubbing his shoulder.

“Coulda, shoulda, woulda,” Ingrid said as she walked out of the armory. “Like you haven’t ever fucked up.”

***

Gunnar slammed his fist down on the lab counter, his face scrunched up in frustration.

“What?” Mike asked. “What’s wrong?”

“The exact same results,” Gunnar said. “Every single sample of cocaine yields the exact same results.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Mike asked.

“Yes,” Gunnar said. “Because kilos shouldn’t be identical.”

“But it’s all the same coke, right? So why wouldn’t the samples be the same from kilo to kilo?”

“Because they aren’t the same,” Gunnar said. “Sure, two samples from the same kilo can be identical, but not from different kilos. Difference in handling, packaging, atmosphere when packaged, possible contaminants in the bags themselves. All kinds of variations should show up. They’d be minuscule, but I’m running tests to pick up minuscule!”

Gunnar slammed his fists down on the counter again and again.

“Whoa, chill, Gun,” Mike said, wheeling over to him. “So run them again. This time look for the opposite of what you were looking for before.”

Gunnar turned and raised his eyebrows. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You were looking for difference and couldn’t find them. So look for the sames this time.”

“The sames isn’t exactly a scientific term,” Gunnar frowned.

“That’s why I’m a SEAL and not an egghead,” Mike replied. “Or was a SEAL. Just a sad, broken man now.”

“Boo hoo,” Gunnar laughed. “Cry me a river, frogman.”

He looked over at the pallet of cocaine kilos and narrowed his eyes.

“Okay, let’s try this again,” he said. “Look for the sames.”

***

Darby sat in the Wiglaf II, her legs crossed beneath her as she relaxed in front of the controls, ready and waiting for Ballantine’s signal. She took several deep, cleansing breaths then closed her eyes. Just as Ballantine called over the com.

“Be ready,” he said.

“I am,” Darby replied.

“When you drop in the water, you’ll have only minutes, maybe seconds, to clear the blockade and get away from the area,” Ballantine said.

Darby’s eyes shot open. “Blockade?”

“Espanoza has pulled out all the stops,” Ballantine said. “Half the Mexican navy is here.”

“How’d he manage that without raising suspicions?” Darby asked.

“He used us,” Ballantine said. “He used the company’s influence as a smokescreen. He has an agenda.”

“Feels like he’s scrambling,” Darby said.

“That’s when he’s at his most dangerous,” Ballantine said. “You get to the launch site of the subs and complete the mission. That’s all I need you to do. We’ll be close behind.”

“You hope,” Darby replied.

Ballantine sighed. “I do.”

***

Thorne watched from the bow as the B3 steamed past two Mexican ships and into the secured area of ocean. He turned around and faced the mesh wetsuit clad Team Grendel. Max, Shane, Lucy, Kinsey, and Darren waited for him to speak as he looked each one in the eye.

“Who thinks this is all bullshit and there’s something else going on?” Thorne asked.

Everyone raised their hands.

“Excellent,” he grinned, but there was no warmth in the smile. “Good to know I don’t have idiots on my Team. Darren? Would you care to tell us what you know?”

Everyone looked at the captain and waited for him to respond. It was obvious the internal struggle that was waged inside him.

“Spill it, Ditcher,” Max said.

“We know part,” Shane said. “Want us to start?”

“Fernandez,” Darren said. “El Serpiente.”

Thorne’s eyebrows raised. “You killed him.”

“Nope,” Max said. “Gave him a nice scar though.”

“El Serpiente?” Lucy gasped. “What does this have to do with that monster?”

“He’s on the ship with Espanoza,” Darren said. “They’re half brothers. Espanoza is head of the Colende cartel.”

“The coke,” Kinsey said, shaking her head. “”This is about the coke, not the sharks, right?”

“No,” Thorne said. “You all saw the footage. This is about the sharks. For us, at least. For those fucks?” He pointed back at Espanoza’s ship as it took its place in the blockade, letting the B3 continue on. “I don’t know what their fucking agenda is, but I can guarantee it isn’t the same as ours.”

“So what’s the plan, Commander?” Max asked, all joking lost. “We focus on the sharks and let Ballantine sort the rest out?”

“Yes,” Thorne said. “We focus on the sharks. After we kill those fuckers then we deal with Espanoza.”

“Sharks first,” Darren reiterated. He screwed up his face. “I wish Ballantine would tell us where the fuck Darby is. We could use the air cover.”

“Yes, we could,” Thorne said.

“Not to worry, operators,” Ballantine said as he walked from a hatch and out onto the deck. “I’ll handle the Wyrm II.”

Team Grendel turned as one and gaped at him.

“You can fly a helo?” Max asked.

“And we are just finding this out now?” Shane added.

“Never show your cards unless you have to,” Ballantine said. “I’ll go prep. Let me know where and when you need me.”

Thorne glared. “I was under the distinct impression you could not pilot a helo. Why would I be under that impression?”

“Because I told you I couldn’t?” Ballantine grinned. 

“That would be why,” Thorne growled. “Where the hell is Darby?”

“Around,” Ballantine replied. “I’ll be in the Wyrm II if anyone needs me.”

“Hold on, meeting isn’t done. Lucy, you’re with Ballantine,” Thorne ordered. “I want that bird in the air and circling the area the second I stop talking here. Your job is to put .50 caliber rounds in any large shadow you see. I don’t give a fuck if it’s a goddamn manatee. You shoot the fucking thing.”

“Manatees are off Florida and Africa,” Lucy said. “Not Mexico.”

“Don’t. Fucking. Care,” Thorne said. “Shoot it.”

“Got it,” Lucy nodded. “I will shoot the fucking manatee.”

“We’re taking the Zodiacs out,” Thorne said. “This is a direct assault. We’re getting in the water with the sharks.”

“We what?” Kinsey asked. “Love you, Daddy, but have you lost your mind?”

“No, I haven’t,” Thorne said. “We take the fight to them. If these suits work like they are supposed to then we have an advantage.”

“Really? What’s that?” Shane asked.

“Maneuverability,” Thorne said. “They are too big to turn and swim like we can.”

“They don’t need to if they chomp us in half,” Max said.

“Which is why we have the suits,” Thorne replied. “At some point we have to trust the equipment. Otherwise we should just be back on land drinking beer an a goddamn recliner.”

“Can we?” Shane asked. “I totally volunteer.”

“Two Zodiacs,” Thorne glared. “Kinsey and Max are with me. Darren and Shane are in the second one. I want the shooters to stay in the boats while we dive. You two will man the motors and keep your rifles ready. Same orders as Lucy. Shoot any shadow you see.”

“Any shadow that doesn’t look like a person,” Darren said. “Just to clarify.”

“Do I need to clarify that, boys?” Thorne asked.

“No, sir,” the Reynolds replied in unison.

“Good,” Thorne said. “We drop in five minutes.”

“Uh, sir?” Max asked, looking at his rifle. “Last time we dealt with these sharks we needed rockets to kill them. You think our guns will really be enough?”

“Have you been studying shark anatomy as you were ordered to during your leave time?” Thorne asked.

“Yes, sir,” Max replied.

“So you know where the brain is?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you need a rocket to hit that brain or are you a fucking SEAL sniper, son?”

“I’m a fucking SEAL sniper!” Max shouted.

“And did you or did you not see what these rounds can do?”

“I did, sir,” Max stated.

“And didn’t I just say we have to trust the equipment?”

“You did, sir,” Max nodded.

“Does that answer your question?” Thorne asked.

“Yes, sir,” Max replied.

Thorne focused his gaze on Ballantine. “Do you have a problem with us killing these sharks?”

Ballantine weighed his answer for several seconds. “Personally? No. But the company wouldn’t mind if they could be captured alive. Our client would prefer that.”

“Do I look like I have a Team that captures?” Thorne asked.

“No, Commander, you do not,” Ballantine replied, smiling.

“Will we have a problem if my Team comes back with nothing but shark steaks?” Thorne asked.

“No, Commander, we will not,” Ballantine smiled. “It’s your Team. All I can do is pass on what the company wants. If things get crazy in the heat of battle then steaks happen.”

“Good,” Thorne said. “Welcome to the Team, Ballantine. This is a provisional assignment for you. You do what I say when I say it. Understood?”

“Wouldn’t want it any other way,” Ballantine grinned. “Can I be dismissed to perform my duties as helo pilot now?”

“You are all dismissed,” Thorne said looking at everyone. “Get your asses to work!”

“I wonder if coke tenderizes shark steaks?” Max asked Shane.

“Let’s find out,” Shane smiled.

***

“Sir?” Carlos asked over the com. “We have it.”

Ballantine smiled over at Lucy as the two of them hurried across the deck and onto the helipad. They hopped into the Wyrm II and got strapped in.

“Good,” Ballantine said as he sat in the pilot’s seat and started up the rotors. He put on his headset and switched to Carlos’s channel. “Send the coordinates to Darby. Then get your ass down to the mini-sub bay and make sure her launch is fast and trouble free. There is no margin for error with this. Once the shooting starts she needs to use that cover to get away.”

“I understand,” Carlos replied. “I am on it.”

***

“Ready?” Popeye asked from the side of the B3, his eyes focused on the Zodiac with Thorne, Kinsey, and Max in it. Behind that Zodiac was the one with Darren and Shane. Two of Popeye’s deckhands waited for his signal.

“Ready,” Thorne said. “Put us in the water.”

Popeye lowered the Zodiac to the ocean below and waited for Max to release the cables before giving the deckhands a thumbs up. The second Zodiac was released and Team Grendel was in the water.

***

Kinsey placed the mustache under her nose and pressed the buttons. She gagged and choked and had to fight every instinct not to rip the thing from her face. But in seconds the rebreather was secure and working.

“Can you hear me?” Kinsey asked.

“I can hear you,” Thorne said.

“We all can,” Lake replied over the com from the bridge. “It’s an open channel, by the way.”

“Good to know,” Thorne said as he put his mustache on. He hesitated and Kinsey laughed.

“It’s not that bad,” she said.

Thorne pressed the buttons then went through the same choking and gagging as Kinsey. His eyes drilled daggers into her.