The Siren, the General's Daughter Book One (17 page)

The girl sunk into the seat, dreading their arrival home. She could not recall the last time she had all three so angry with her. In the immortal (but still unspoken) words, she fucked up royally.

It was Michael’s turn to make dinner. Sam followed him into the kitchen, offering to help. He politely refused and sent her back to the living room. Scott flipped the channels on the large plasma TV while Dr. Quimby quietly opened the paper. Neither said a word to her. Sighing, she went up to her room and plopped on the window seat to stare out the window over the large ocean. She knew she was getting the silent treatment for a while.

The waves were extremely high and producing a lot of foam, indicating a strong rip tide was surging. Frowning, she watched a kayaker heading towards the black water which captured the tiny craft and pulled the hopeless boater out to sea. Muttering a curse, Sam threw on her wetsuit, tore down the stairs and without a word, dove over the side of the deck. Her family ran out behind her.

“Follow her!” Dr. Quimby ordered his son, who was already pulling on his suit. Michael dove off the railing and caught up to her as she was struggled with the capsized the boater. Michael dragged him over the orca and held him in place as Sam mounted Ton’s broad back. Using his transmitter, Michael called for an ambulance, and then deposited the shipwrecked boater on the beach as Sam reported her findings to the paramedics. The two stood silently and waited as the boater was transported away.

Sam took a deep breath and turned back silently to the waves. She plunged beneath the surface with her brother on her heels, grateful that he had been there to help. They swam silently side by side back to the house with only a brief “Thanks,” shared as Michael pulled his sister up onto the small dock. The girl silently retreated back to her room as the details of the incident were conveyed to the family.

“That man would have died if she hadn’t seen him,” Michael said quietly, drying himself off. “He was in bad shape.”

“Idiots should know to stay out of rips,” Dr. Quimby muttered. “I finished up dinner for you, by the way.”

“Gee thanks. Was it because I was gone or because you were hungry?”

“Both. Go get something dry on and grab your sister. It’s time to eat.”

Dr. Quimby watched as his daughter picked at her meal. “Samantha, you are to eat. You’re too thin.”

“She could use a little more meat on that bottom, for sure,” Scott interjected. “You heard your father, finish your dinner.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“This isn’t a discussion,” Dr. Quimby ordered. “You will sit here until that plate is empty.”

So she sat, staring at her plate, hands in her lap and feeling very much like a chastised child. Scott elbowed his friend, whispering ‘stubborn’ and was countered with ‘she’s just like you.’

By 8:30 that evening, she won her cause and was dismissed to her room.

Confused, she obeyed, wondering when the trial and execution was to begin.

As the routine, Dr. Quimby woke the two up at 0500 the next morning with orders to get cleaned up and go down for breakfast. Michael groaned, plopping back onto the bed, waiting for his customary pounce. Nothing. It saddened him. As irritating as it was, it also started his day with the connection. Still half asleep, he showered and dressed, meeting the family downstairs.

“Morning sleepy head. Coffee?” Scott asked.

“It depends.  Who made it?”

“I did.”

“No thank you. I hate mornings,” he grumbled, accepting a piece of toast from his father. His sister sat silently at the end of the table, not making her typical comments. He missed them immediately. He could tell the others did too.

“So, what are your plans today?” Dr. Quimby asked his son. “Besides taking a nap.”

“I want to work on Sam’s theory. I’ll need your help,” he told the two men.

“No problem. Samantha, we expect you to cooperate today without arguing.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“And eat your fruit. I’m not going to keep reminding you,” her father sounded exasperated. She really was too thin for his liking.

As they pulled into the parking lot on base, Scott issued instructions for Michael to meet him briefly at the seal unit before they started on the I-band. Michael glanced at his sister in the seat next to him, feeling her fury. “Scott, this is Sam’s specialty, not mine. You need to let her handle this guy.”

“I am not putting her, or this command, in jeopardy. He has a lot of pull. I know you don’t understand.”

“What I don’t understand is why you are being such a chicken shit—”

“Watch it, Michael,” his father warned.

“I’m sorry. Let me rephrase. We have been awarded honorifics in our fields. We worked hard for them. Nothing has been handed to either of us. It is unethical to deprive Sammi her dues just because of her gender. It is also illegal.”

“I’m not arguing with you, so calm down. Are you sure you didn’t get just a little of the Jenkins temper?” Scott held up his hand, turning to look at his nephew.

Michael was simmering, but quiet.

“What I am saying is that we need to find a way to get her invited in, not act like bulldozers. I have plenty of pull, too, son, but I’ve learned the hard way, not to fu... mess with senior enlisted. Trust me.”

“Uncle Scott, may I please say something?”

“Go on.”

“I, um, I’ve been able to work a basic code that I believe will function on the peds. I’ve, well, I’ve been practicing.”

“What!” Michael roared. She sunk in her seat. He had, once again, specifically forbidden her to practice without him being present. Dr. Quimby and Scott simultaneously groaned, looking at each other. She quietly explained her reasoning and included the need for calmness to be allowed to enter the herd. She swore she had dolphin close by if needed, but her family knew that if the sea lions attacked, the pod would be too late.

“Breathe,” Dr. Quimby said, trying to take the role of the sensible one. His hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white. Scott closed his eyes, focusing himself to calmness.

Michael just glared, clenching his fists.

“What have you learned during this little adventure?” her father asked, looking at her in the rear view mirror.

“Can we go inside first and talk in your office?” she asked timidly. Dr. Quimby nodded, gesturing the other two out of the vehicle. They were saluted multiple times before finally entering headquarters. Not paying attention, Sam turned the corner and bumped into a very broad body. Master-Sergeant Higgins.

“Oh, pardon me, Master-Sergeant,” she said quickly, deferring to him out of respect.

He looked down at her, scowling. “Good morning, Lt. Quimby. Sirs,” he acknowledged the other three. Michael bristled at the man’s arrogance. Scott shook his head. Dr. Quimby’s eyes narrowed.

Sam flashed her best smile. “I’m so glad to finally meet you. I’ve read about your work. It is incredible.”

“I understand that you are interested in joining my unit. I think I made my preferences known.”

“Yes, Sir. However, I would like to make a wager with you. Care to take me up on it?”

“I don’t make bets with women. Or children.”

Dr. Quimby’s hackles rose and he was silently held back by his friend.

Sam nodded.  “Perhaps not, but how about with a fellow scientist, rank aside for the moment?”

“We already know about your knowledge in your field of study, young woman. It does not impress me,” the man sneered.

“I didn’t mean that. I mean a test. You have a goal, correct? To train your animals for missions,” She smiled again. “I wager that we make an artificial mission and if I can take the lions out and perform properly, you reconsider your position of me in the unit. Only me. No other females.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have two years to wait for you to train the animals. Your wager is sublimely ridiculous and immature.”

“You are speaking to an officer, Master-Sergeant” Scott intervened.

“Beg your pardon, General. Ma’am. Now if—” he turned to leave.

“Give me one week. With wild peds.”

“That would be impossible!”

“Then you have nothing to lose. If I fail, you don’t allow me entry. If I succeed, then you’ve gained another scientist for your unit. Well, Sir?”

“Are you to tell me you will actually support this claim?” he asked the other three. They nodded.

“Support and encourage. “ Scott responded, touching the girl’s shoulder.

Sam lifted her chin higher, blue eyes sparkling under long dark lashes. “Do we have a deal, then?” she asked, holding her hand out.

He shook it, surprised by the strength of her grip. “We have a deal. I will plot the mission and give it to you in a day or two.”

“No, master-Sergeant,” Michael spoke out, his hand on her other shoulder. “Hold it until the mission begins. Let her do this blind.” The three men stared at him. His smile was an exact replica of his sister’s—it said “Bring it on.”

“I have faith in anything she chooses to do. If I can’t believe in her abilities, who can? Come on, we have work to do,” he said, “If we may be excused?”

“Dismissed, lieutenants,” Scott said formerly.

The three watched the two leave. Dr. Quimby spoke up. “Master-Sergeant, I don’t give a shit about you, your politics or your games. If you
ever
speak to my daughter or any of my crew like that again, I promise I will press charges for insubordination. Got it?” he hissed, towering over the stout man. Scott raised an eyebrow, trying to recall the last time he had seen his mild tempered best friend so worked up. The man nodded with a ‘yes, Sir’ and quickly excused himself.

“Breathe,” Scott whispered in Dr. Quimby’s ear.

“Fuck you.”

Scott laughed and continued towards his office.

Chapter Eleven

“Does this mean you’re speaking to me now, Michael?”

“Yeah, I couldn’t go much longer anyway. Higgins pissed me off. You handled it well, though. Better than I would have.”

“Thanks. Did you mean what you said? About believing in me?”

“I did.”

“Even when it seems like I’m doing something dangerous?” her voice was little.

He took her hand, leading her into the lab. “Yeah, but I don’t like it.”

“May I ask you a question?”

“They are waiting until guilt drives you to approach them. Then you are dead meat.”

“I thought that might be the case. Except now, well, I don’t really feel guilty. In a way, that jerk proved my point for me.”

“You need to feel guilty, at least for scaring the living hell out of me. I was the one there to witness it. And going out with the lions? I told you not to.”

“Some things I need to do without you. Our connection is getting more pronounced and distracts me,” she said, sitting at her desk. He was actually listening! “I think these bands are training our synapses to function in excelled ability. I can’t read your mind, but I can sense your feelings. Like when you know you’re being watched.”

“I’ve noticed that too. Maybe we should go without them for a while.” They had taken to wearing the bands constantly, not knowing when they would need them when out in open water.

“It’s not hurting anything, is it? I’d like to see how far they can take us. Hey, if I have to be joined mentally with someone, who better than you? Of course, that might mean me becoming less reasonable and more mule-headed,” she gave him a cheesy grin.

“Don’t start. Let’s go out and see what we can do about this challenge. Show me the signals.”

***

They worked dry for an hour and then departed for the kelp beds. When noticed by the scout, the girl signaled for permission to enter the herd.

Granted.

Michael also repeated the signal.

Denied.

Sam instructed Michael to turn his back to the herd and remain as still as possible until she said otherwise. Sam left him and communicated his connection to her, thus receiving a distrustful invite.

“What did you tell them?” Michael asked, swimming with her into the herd’s eye.

“No laughing. I don’t know how to say brother. You are my mate. Sorry.”

“Oh God,
don’t
tell the folks. They would shit bricks.”

“It’s just for this. Ok, now let’s see what we can do.”

The giant male sea lion swam briskly around them, sizing them up. He was familiar with the small beach dweller, and the larger one was her mate.

Sam warned her brother to stay perfectly still, no matter what the animal did. The swimming quickened and they were pushed into rocks and against the ocean floor. He charged straight at Michael and rammed his head directly into the young man’s torso, knocking out his breath out as he was slapped against the rocks. Trusting his sister’s instructions, he floated and did not attempt to right himself. The bull charged again, sinking his teeth into Michael’s leg and twisting sharply. Protected by the wetsuit, there was no skin breakage, but the pain was almost intolerable as the muscle fascia tore. The bull charged a third time and sunk its jaws into Michael’s right upper arm.

“Sink to the bottom,” his sister instructed, trying not to hold her breath as the sharp teeth of the bull snapped near his face. Michael closed his eyes, praying that he would survive the initiation. He sat frozen on the ocean floor for an hour before his sister instructed him to surface. The bull, satisfied, swam away.

“Come on, let’s get you back. You’re probably gonna need some bandaging for support,” she said softly, taking his arm.

“Did he do that to you?”

“Yes, only I got slammed by three males. Sound familiar? No biting, though. This was only a test to see if you were my mate and would respect me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sea lions,” she suppressed a giggle, “depend on the females to hunt and breed. The cows run the herd and the males are simply there to protect. By submitting to the gatekeeper, you submitted to me. We will have full access now, plus more respect since we are a breeding pair.”

“That is disgusting. Damn it, Sam, this really hurts,” Michael said, accepting assistance out of the tank. His sister ordered ace dressings while peeling the wetsuit from his long, lean, muscular body. Despite the protection offered by the special fibers imbedded in the material, there was a giant blackening bruise in the center of his ribcage and large dark purple indentations where he had been bitten. His quadriceps vibrated with uncontrollable muscle spasms, causing him to grimace as he tried to apply weight to the limb.