Mega #02 Baja Blood (9 page)

“Your Jeep will be taken to the San Diego PD impound lot,” Ballantine said. “It is part of a police investigation.”

“So are these two assholes!” a man snarled as he stomped up to Ballantine. “And they have quite a few more questions to answer before they are released!”

“I think not,” Ballantine said, looking at the man’s nametag. “Sergeant Velasco, is it? You’ll want to speak to your captain. I am sure she will explain everything to you.”

“She has,” Velasco snapped. “And I don’t care. These jokers shot up a pickup truck on I-5!”

“It had it coming,” Max said.

“Shouldn’t have let those bad guys ride in it,” Shane added.

“Sure, pickups get mixed up with the wrong people, we get that,” Max said.

“But that’s no excuse,” Shane continued. “It should know better. Those guys were obviously cartel.”

“Stupid pickup,” Max said, shaking his head.

“What the hell is wrong with these guys?” Velasco asked, looking from one brother to the other then at Ballantine.

“It’s a mystery of science,” Ballantine smiled. “I’ll take them off your hands now. Thank you for babysitting.”

“He wanted to have his boyfriend over, but we said we’d tell Mom and Dad,” Max said, pointing at Velasco.

“And we didn’t get our snack,” Shane frowned. “Shittiest babysitter ever.”

Velasco just stood there, eyes wide, mouth hanging open.

“Right,” Ballantine said, clapping the brothers on their shoulders. “Shall we? Thank you, Sergeant, for your cooperation. The service you do for our citizens does not get enough credit.”

They left the sergeant with his men as they hurried into the helo.

“Darby!” Shane shouted as she started the rotors back up. “How the fuck are you, killer?”

Darby gave him a thumbs up then looked back at Max.

“Maxwell,” she croaked, her voice even more throaty as it was filtered through the headsets.

“Maxwell?” Shane asked, looking at his brother. “Is there something I don’t know?”

“Nope,” Max said, winking at Darby. Her upper lip twisted with the small hint of a smile as she took the helo up.

“Wow,” Shane said. “My brother Max is the player today.”

“How’d you find us?” Max asked Ballantine.

“Same way I found your cousin and Gunnar,” Ballantine said. “Vincent Thorne.”

“Right,” Shane said. “That’s how he got the info to us so fast.”

“He called you,” Max said. “Good thinking.”

“It was,” Ballantine said.

“So where to now, boss man?” Max asked.

“We fetch your uncle,” Ballantine said. “Then rendezvous with the rest of the Team and crew.”

“Crew?” Kinsey asked. “You mean the Beowulf crew?”

“Precisely,” Ballantine said. “I do apologize for the limbo I have put you in, but I needed to make sure the Beowulf III was perfected before I could even consider placing any of your lives in danger again.”

“Perfected?” Kinsey asked. “Does that mean shark proof?”

“It does, Kinsey,” Ballantine said. “I have spent a lot of political capital over the last few months to turn the Beowulf III into the greatest shark hunting vessel in history.”

“Does it have a water slide?” Shane asked. “Because if it doesn’t have a water slide then you have failed, Mr. Ballantine.”

“Lay off,” Max said. “This isn’t funny. This is serious.”

“Thank you, Max,” Ballantine nodded.

“A water slide would take up the space needed for the Jacuzzi,” Max said. “And it would stick out like a sore thumb. Duh.”

“Right. My bad,” Shane nodded.

“I have missed you gentlemen,” Ballantine said. “It’s never boring with you two around.”

Gunnar’s phone rang again and he shook his head.

“Answer it,” Kinsey said.

Gunnar pointed to the roof of the helo. “Too loud. Whoever it is finally left a message. I’ll check when we land to get your dad.”

“Five minutes,” Darby said, banking the helo sharply.

“Not the weekend we expected, huh?” Max said to Kinsey.

“Still good to see you guys,” Shane added, smiling at Gunnar.

“You too,” Gunnar nodded as his phone rang one more time. “Jesus!”

Darby banked the helo the other way then circled an apartment complex for a minute before setting down in the large parking lot where Vincent Thorne stood waiting.

“Convenient that a helicopter can land in your parking lot,” Ballantine said, shaking the man’s hand as he climbed into the helo.

“Not so much convenience as just good planning,” Thorne said.

Max and Shane shook their uncle’s hand and then looked over at Kinsey.

“Hey, Daddy,” Kinsey said, leaning across them to hug her father.

“Hey, baby,” Thorne said. “Been too long.”

“I did invite you for dinner last month,” Gunnar said.

“True, you did,” Thorne responded.

Gunnar’s phone rang again.

“Dammit!” he snapped. “Who the hell is it?”

Ballantine tossed him an audio cord. “Plug it directly into your headset. You’ll be able to listen to the voice message that way. Must be important if they won’t stop calling.”

Gunnar plugged his phone into the headset jack and played the first message. Everyone watched him as he listened, his eyes growing wider and wider.

“I appear to be right,” Ballantine smiled when Gunnar unplugged the phone. “Care to let us in on the mystery?”

“We need to make a detour,” Gunnar said. “There’s someone we have to meet.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Ballantine said. “We have a very strict timetable to keep.”

“Monster sharks?” Shane asked.

“Monster sharks?” Max echoed.

“We need to make this detour,” Gunnar replied.

“Michael Pearlman?” Thorne asked, looking at Ballantine. “Is that who called?”

“Yeah, how did you know?” Gunnar asked.

“How do you think we knew to come rescue you?” Ballantine said. “Commander Thorne contacted me as soon as the Reynolds needed help. One branch of the trail led to Mr. Pearlman, which led to you, Gunnar. As a former lover of Mr. Pearlman you were on a short list of possible targets by this cartel that has caused so much trouble today.”

“He didn’t say much, but I know where he is,” Gunnar said. “He says he’s in a lot of trouble and needs my help.”

“Considering the day so far, I am sure he does,” Ballantine said. “But first we get to the Beowulf III. Mr. Pearlman got himself into his situation and he’ll have to hang tight for just a while longer.” He held up a finger before Gunnar could protest. “If he is involved with what I think he is then we’ll want the full Team as well as the resources the Beowulf III can provide.”

“B3,” Max said.

“Way shorter,” Shane said.

Ballantine looked over at Darby and she shrugged.

“B3 it is then,” Ballantine smiled. “Settle in, we’ll be at the B3 in just a few minutes.”

***

Chief Officer Martin Lake -mid-thirties, tight cropped black hair, brown eyes, a perpetual no nonsense look in those eyes- watched as the helo landed on one of the three helipads built into the upper deck of the Beowulf III. He made a quick announcement over the PA to the entire ship and 20 person crew that the Wyrm II had landed safely. About twenty meters longer and ten feet wider than the Beowulf II, the B3 could accommodate three helos at once, as well as four full sized enclosed lifeboats, four zodiacs, and two mini-subs. It was more equipment than Lake thought was needed, but Darren Chambers was the captain of the B3, and between him and Ballantine, there was no stopping the overkill.

“Wow,” Chief Engineer Morgan “Cougher” Colfer said as he stood next to Lake on the bridge and watched the helo power down. His long, stringy black hair flopped in his face and he brushed it aside. Average height, he looked like he would be more at ease at a comic book convention instead of on a research vessel outfitted for Special Forces Operations.  Only his suntanned skin and calloused hands betrayed the fact he was used to working hard on a ship and not sitting at a desk writing code all day. “We’re really getting back in the shit, huh?”

“Yep,” Lake said.

“You cool with this?” Cougher asked. “It didn’t turn out so great last time.”

“Last time we thought we were hunting Darren’s whale,” Lake said. “And ended up getting hunted by giant sharks. This time we’re doin
g
al
l
of the hunting. We know what to expect.”

“Yeah, right,” Cougher laughed then honked a namesake cough into the crook of his elbow. “When it comes to that Ballantine guy I don’t think we ever know what to expect.”

Lake just shrugged as he looked down on the deck, watching as Captain Darren Chambers hurried up to the helo pad.

***

Late twenties, dirty blond hair, bright blue eyes, Captain Darren Chambers looked more like a GQ model than an ex-SEAL and Captain of the Beowulf III. The black t-shirt he wore hugged his muscles and stretched tight as he ran up the steps to the helipad.

“Hey!” he shouted as the helo’s doors slid open and everyone piled out. “Welcome aboard the Beowulf III!”

“B3,” Max said, shaking Darren’s hand.

“There was an executive decision,” Shane said, shaking Darren’s hand next.

“Captain Chambers,” Ballantine smiled. “I’ll be in the briefing room.”

“Howdy to you too, Ballantine,” Darren said. “Darby.”

“Captain,” Darby nodded and followed Ballantine down to the deck and then up a set of stairs to the glass window enclosed briefing room just past the bridge.

“Hey there, son,” Thorne said. “Good to see you.”

“You too, Vinny,” Darren said, shaking the man’s hand and clasping him on the shoulder.

“Hey, man,” Gunnar said and gave Darren a big hug. “Miss me?”

“You know it,” Darren said. “Still a little pissed you didn’t want to help design the lab on the Beowulf III.”

“B3,” Kinsey said, smiling at Darren. “Didn’t you hear the boys?”

“Hey, ‘Sey,” Darren smiled back.

“Hey, ‘Ren,” Kinsey said.

“Oh, just hug it out, you two,” Gunnar sighed. “You used to be married, for fuck’s sake.”

Kinsey and Darren hugged, each taking a deep breath and glad, in their own way, to be back in each other’s arms.

“Okay, okay, I didn’t mean all day,” Gunnar said. “Can we get this meeting on with?”

“You bet,” Darren said, letting go of Kinsey and gesturing to the stairs. “Lake has our course set for Baja. We’ll be where we need to be in an hour.”

“We’re making a detour,” Gunnar said. “I’ll let Lake know and meet you two in the briefing room.” He took off running to the bridge before Darren could respond.

“What the hell?” Darren shouted after him. “Only the captain gets to change course!”

“Whatever!” Gunnar shouted back.

Darren shook his head and looked over at Kinsey. “How you been? You look great. Healthy.”

“Thanks,” Kinsey said. “Gunnar has been a big help keeping me clean. I think that’s why he didn’t come help set up the lab. Didn’t want to leave the junkie alone.”

“Ex-junkie,” Darren said.

“No, ‘Ren,” Kinsey said. “I’ll always be a junkie. I went too deep to ever have ‘ex’ in front of my name.”

“That include ex-wife?” Darren smiled.

“That happened before I started shooting, snorting, drinking, and swallowing anything I could get my hands on,” Kinsey said. “That ex is grandfathered in on that one.”

“Move ass, you two!” Max shouted from the briefing room door. “We got shit to kill and Gunnar’s butt buddy to pick up first!”

“Dude!” Gunnar yelled as he stepped out of the bridge. “What the fuck? Bigot much?”

“Dude!” Max yelled back. “You know I’m kidding! Can’t take a joke from a friend much?”

Gunnar flipped him off and went back into the bridge.

Kinsey laughed as she and Darren walked up the steps to the briefing room. She glanced into the bridge and Lake smiled at her.

“I’ll come say hello once I get us turned around,” Lake said.

“Hey, Kinsey,” Cougher smiled.

“Hey, Cougher,” Kinsey replied. “Popeye and Beau on board?”

“Yep,” Cougher nodded. “Popeye’s hobbling around aft and Beau is below deck.”

“Cool,” Kinsey said. “Talk to ya soon.”

Darren showed her into the briefing room and Kinsey stared at the state of the art monitors that dropped from the ceiling, showing various videos and pictures of a bloody nightmare. The room looked more like a corporate boardroom, with expensive wood paneling and a conference table in the middle made from teak. The open side of the room was nothing but sliding glass doors that everyone filtered in through. The view out the doors was amazing and Kinsey marveled at the Pacific Ocean, glad to be on a ship again.