Mega 3: When Giants Collide (Mega Series) (22 page)

“Thanks. Now kill the com and don’t contact us again in case the nerds can listen. We’re on autopilot from here on out.”

“Copy that.”

***

Before Thorne could ask who Tank Top was talking to, the man spun about and threw himself up the stairs at Thorne’s legs, taking him out at the knees. The old SEAL fell over the top of Tank Top and into Bokeem, who tossed him aside like a bag of old laundry, sending him down into the rest of the group.

“Daddy!” Kinsey yelled as she put her carbine to her shoulder.

Tank Top was faster. He rolled to the side and slammed himself into Kinsey’s lower legs, sending her down at Bokeem as well. Bokeem didn’t send her down after her father; instead, he gripped her about the throat with his hands and leaned in close to her face.

“Nobody moves!” Bokeem yelled down at the stunned Boris, Ballantine, Gunnar and Darren, who were untangling themselves from Thorne. “If you think about coming at us, I’ll snap her neck before that thought even makes it halfway across your brains! All weapons on the ground!”

Everyone complied.

“Uh-oh,” Ballantine said from below, “I guess we better do what you say.”

“God, I hate you, Ballantine,” Tank Top said as he got up and pulled a knife from Kinsey’s belt. He flipped it about and cut his bonds then pressed it against Kinsey’s neck. “One flick and you’re dead, junkie.”

“Not a junkie anymore,” Kinsey said.

“Once a junkie, always a junkie,” Tank Top said, “which means I won’t take you for granted.”

He slammed his fist into her temple then slid his arm under her shoulders as she fell, unconscious.

“Stop right there!” he said as he put the knife to her throat again when Darren started to move.

Tank Top carefully set Kinsey onto the steps and placed a boot against her throat. He held out the knife and Bokeem took it and freed himself. The two men grinned down at Ballantine and ignored the rest.

“You have been a very bad man, Ballantine,” Bokeem said, “and our employers would like a word with you. Since they had a feeling you might bring us here that word is going to have to wait.”

“Who are your employers?” Ballantine asked. “No, let me guess, it was a blind drop and you never met face to face, right?”

“Of course,” Tank Top said.

“They fed you a bunch of intel on me, on my Team, on this island, yes?” Ballantine continued. “Then they informed you that the cartels and Somalis would be joining you in the hunt, but didn’t know the whole story. They were only muscle and once you handed them the Thorne’s, you were supposed to get me to bring you here. Once you had access to the facility then you’d kill everyone and contact your employers. The rest of your money would then be wired to your accounts and you’d live the rest of your life in luxury.”

“Something like that,” Tank Top said, “those are some pretty good guesses.”

“I wrote the book on most of this shit,” Ballantine said, “or at least read all the books already written.”

“I should read more,” Tank Top said, “but who has the time?”

“Only one problem,” Ballantine said. “There’s a very large shark headed this way.”

“Yeah, we know that,” Bokeem said. “That’s why we won’t kill any of you right away. We’re going to keep the junkie with us while the rest of you get on that ship of yours and go kill it for us.”

“Are you nuts?” Gunnar asked.

“The shark is Ballantine’s mess,” Tank Top said, “which means it’s his Team’s mess. You’re his Team, so go do Team things.”

“When you said ‘the rest of you’, I assume that excludes me,” Ballantine said. “You want me to stay right here since your employers hired you to capture me.”

Tank Top and Bokeem only glared.

“Just crossing I’s and dotting T’s,” Ballantine smiled. “I’d hate for you two to lose your reputations in the mercenary community.”

“Fuck you,” Tank Top said.

“Yes, well, no time for that,” Ballantine said, “better let my Team get out there and kill that shark.”

Bokeem shook his head. “You are the most fucked up dude I have ever met, Ballantine,” he said. “How has no one put a bullet in your head yet?”

“I’m too valuable,” Ballantine said, then put his hand to his mouth and said in a stage whisper. “I know where all the bodies are buried.”

“That would make them want you dead even more,” Tank Top said.

“Not if you want to find one of the bodies,” Ballantine laughed as he tapped at his temple. “Think it through, Jason. You have to think all the angles through. That was one of your many flaws when we worked together. You never saw all the angles.”

“Your new Team does?” Tank Top asked.

“Not all of them, no,” Ballantine frowned, “but they will.”

Bokeem pointed the knife at Darren. “You. Get the old man and the fag out of here. Ballantine, the Russian, and the junkie stay here. Kill that shark and then we’ll talk about how you might get out of this alive.”

“You hurt her and you won’t live to have that talk,” Darren snarled.

“I’m not Russian,” Boris stated. “Why does everyone think I’m Russian? I was born in-”

“Not now, Doctor,” Ballantine said.

“Sorry,” Boris nodded.

“Move,” Bokeem said to Darren. “I won’t tell you again.”

“Can you find your way out of here?” Ballantine asked Darren.

“Yeah, no problem,” Darren said, “but won’t we need codes to get from one atrium to the next?”

“Nope,” Ballantine said.

“But-”

“Don’t argue,” Ballantine interrupted, “just go.”

Darren and Gunnar helped a groggy Thorne to his feet then ascended the steps. Once they got to where Tank Top and Bokeem stood with Kinsey, it became a tight squeeze and the tension of sudden violence loomed in the air. Then they were past the mercs and headed back to the atrium levels.

Tank Top watched them reach the top. He smiled once they were gone and looked back down at Ballantine.

“Now we have some fun,” Tank Top said. “Time to show me the goodies.”

“The goodies?” Ballantine asked. “Not sure what you mean. Jason.”

“The data,” Tank Top said as he looked about the dark staircase. “You think I’m going to leave this place without the research files? That shit is worth a million times what our employers are paying us.”

“But, he can’t-” Boris began.

“Hush, now, Doctor,” Ballantine said, “we better give him what he wants. He’ll kill us if we don’t.”

Ballantine held his hands high and waited as Bokeem came down and picked up an M4.

“Which way?” Bokeem asked.

“Down,” Ballantine said, “down, down, down.”

“Lead the way then,” Tank Top shouted as he yanked Kinsey to her feet and threw her over his shoulder. She was unconscious dead weight and he had to keep readjusting her body as he followed the other men down into the depths of the facility. “Oh, and Ballantine?”

“Yes, Jason?”

“You try anything and John Bill kills Dr. Morganton, got it?”

Ballantine looked over his shoulder and up at Tank Top.

“Well, I wouldn’t want Dr. Morganton to be in any danger, now would I?” Ballantine replied.

Tank Top just frowned and nodded for them to keep moving.

***

“I can walk, I can walk!” Thorne growled as he pushed Darren and Gunnar’s hands away. “I can fucking walk!”

“Fine,” Gunnar said as they reached the last door that opened onto the corridor that led outside. “Then fucking walk.”

Darren opened the door and they all jumped back.

“Son of a bitch,” Darren said as they looked at the dead Indonesian man on the floor, his head ripped right from his neck and resting a few feet from him against the wall. “Who the fuck is this guy?”

“One of the crewmembers,” Thorne said. “I recognize him from the beach.”

“How the hell did he get his head torn off?” Gunnar asked. “Who did this? Do you know the strength it takes to tear a man’s head off?”

“Yes,” Thorne said, “I know exactly the strength it takes.”

He knelt down and studied the blood that coated the floor everywhere.

“No foot prints,” he said. “How can there be no footprints? The killer would be coated in blood from the arterial geyser.”

He felt something wet drip down onto his ear and looked up to see a massive air vent above.

“There,” he said as he pointed at the ceiling, “it went up there.”

“It?” Darren and Gunnar asked.

“You think a man could rip this guy’s head clean off and then not leave a single footprint?” Thorne asked. “While also climbing a smooth wall twenty feet up into the ventilation system?”

“Stupid place to put a ventilation system,” Darren said. “That’s a security breach waiting to happen.”

“Or a way to prevent a breach,” Gunnar said as he nodded down at the dead man, “but we don’t have time to survey this place’s security. We need to get on the B3 and go stop that shark, or Kinsey and Ballantine die.”

“You think we can do it?” Darren asked as they started jogging down the corridor.

“Can we?” Thorne asked. “Yes. Will we? There’s a lot of maybe in that answer.”

They walked out of the facility and onto the beach where the hairy Slaps stood grinning from ear to ear, Max’s sniper rifle pointed right at them.

“Your friends are already on board,” Slaps said. “You should probably join them and get the fuck out into that water. You have a shark to kill.”

All three of them wanted to respond, but the way Slaps gripped the rifle told them, even Gunnar that words were going to be used as an excuse to reply with bullets. They stayed quiet and walked slowly past Slaps, across the beach, onto the dock, and down to the B3.

Chapter Eight- Bigger Boat Ain’t Gonna Cut It

The sonar beeped and Darren stared at the shape on the screen. He ground his teeth together as he watched it get closer and closer.

“While it’s nice to have our ship,” Darren said, “it sucks it’s our prison as well.

“Relax,” Gunnar said, “I just pumped Shane, Lucy, and Darby full of adrenaline. They are wide awake and getting suited up for battle. It won’t be a prison for long.”

“Suited up for battle?” Lake laughed from across the bridge. He sat in a chair with his leg propped up and an ice pack on his head. “This isn’t a fucking jousting tournament. There’s a giant, one hundred plus foot shark out there that is heading straight for us. Did you not see it take down three cutters and two destroyers?”

“I saw it,” Gunnar snapped. “I also just had a chat with Carlos on my way back up to the bridge.”

“Carlos?” Darren asked as he looked away from the sonar and back out the window of the bridge. He turned the ship’s wheel and guided it all the way out of the island’s bay and back into open waters. “What does Carlos have to do with this?”

“Apparently a lot,” Gunnar said. “They wouldn’t tell me much, just that we have to get around to the other side of the island and drop the Team off there.”

“I’m part of the Team,” Darren said.

“You’re my bitch right now, is what you are, D,” Lake said. “You drive this boat like I tell you to.”

Darren flipped him off, but kept his eyes out on the water.

“Why are we going to the other side of the island?” Darren asked. “Why the hell would we drop our people there?”

Gunnar wouldn’t look him in the eye.

“Gun? What are we going to do on the other side of the island?”

“There’s a plan,” Gunnar said, “that’s all I know.”

“Fuck,” Darren growled, “Ballantine always has a fucking plan.”

***

Ingrid leaned against the wall of the passageway and closed her eyes.

“Last one is done,” Carlos said as he came out of the Toyshop. “Everything we can’t live without is shielded.”

“Will it hold?” Ingrid asked.

“Will what hold? The shielding?” Carlos asked. “I don’t know. We didn’t have much time to test it.”

“We didn’t have much time to test it? That’s your excuse if we all die?” Ingrid snapped as she pushed away from the wall.

Moshi came hurrying out of the Toyshop and got between them as they came at each other.

“No,” she said quietly.

Carlos and Ingrid looked down at the woman and both sighed.

“Sorry,” Ingrid said.

“Yeah, me too,” Carlos said.

They looked like they were going to hug, but neither moved forward. They just stood there awkwardly. Moshi grabbed them, pulled them in for a group hug, and then hurried back into the Toyshop.

“Where is she going?” Carlos asked, but then had his answer as she came out with a large metal case in hand. “Oh, right.”

“The pineapples,” Ingrid said. “We better get these up top to the Team.”

***

Thorne looked around at what was left of Team Grendel. Darby, Shane, Lucy, and Mike. He frowned at what he saw.

“We’re lucky we’re only bait,” Thorne said.

“Wait, what?” Shane asked. “Bait? I didn’t volunteer to be bait.”

“None of us did,” Thorne said, “we were drafted.”

“Those assholes,” Mike snapped. “Why are we even bothering to listen to them? They’re going to kill Kinsey, and Ballantine and Dr. Morganton anyway. We just need to get clear off this place.”

“Leave them behind?” Darby growled. “Never.”

“It’s not like we can get away,” Thorne said. “That shark is in the water and headed straight for us. We kill it or it kills us. This is our fight no matter what that fuckhead Tank Top says.”

“Then tell us the plan,” Darren said.

“We’re here! We’re here!” Ingrid said as she came up from one of the hatches. “Sorry!”

“What’s in the cases?” Shane asked.

“Pineapples in one,” she replied, “a surprise in the other.”

“The sensory concussion grenades?” Lucy asked.

“Yep,” Ingrid smiled, “Pineapples.”

“No offense,” Shane said, “and with all due respect to your skills as a tech elf, but we’ve seen this fucking shark. Poking it in the eye is not going to stop it.”

“No, it’s not,” Carlos said as he made it up on deck. He was huffing and puffing from the exertion. “No one say a thing. We all can’t have a twelve pack and perfect biceps.”

“Yes, you can,” Shane said. “Stick with me and in just thirty short days, I’ll have you-”

“Shane, shut the fuck up,” Thorne said.

Shane hung his head. “I miss my brother.”

“He needs his rest,” Darby said. “He was shot in the leg and then darted.”

“We only need the four of you anyway,” Ingrid said as she set the case down and opened it. “Three apiece. You’ll set them at specific intervals, and then when we’re ready, we’ll set them off remotely.”

“You can do that?” Shane asked. “That wasn’t in the training the other day.”

“Nothing ever is,” Darby grumbled.

“Hey! We worked hard to get this shit to work, so back the hell off!” Carlos snapped. “It’s brand new!”

“Watch,” Ingrid said as she took one of the pineapples and then opened the second case.

There were exactly twelve jars of gel in the case and she took one out and opened it.

“I need a bucket,” Ingrid said, “filled with water.”

Everyone stood there then Shane rolled his eyes and said, “I got it.”

He ran over to a pile of equipment by the helipad and grabbed a bucket. He stopped and looked at the empty helipad.

“Too bad we don’t have a Wyrm IV yet,” he said. “Having a bird in the air would be helpful. Wasn’t Ballantine supposed to get us another helo?”

“When would he have had time to do that?” Thorne asked. “We’ve been on the run for a while.”

“Just saying,” Shane said as he took the bucket to a hose by the railing and filled it quickly. He jogged back to Ingrid. “Here ya go, pretty lady.”

“Ugh,” Carlos moaned.

Ingrid opened a jar and smeared the gel on a grenade then set it in the water. It floated at the top and didn’t move even when she kicked the side of the bucket, causing some of the water to slosh out over the sides.

“Well, that’s cool,” Shane said.

“Watch this,” she said and reached in and pushed the grenade to the bottom of the bucket. It stayed exactly where she pushed it. “It doesn’t matter what the currents are or what turbulence is around it, the grenade will not budge from where you place it unless it is physically moved by hand.”

“How is that possible?” Mike asked. “Force is force.”

“No, it’s not,” Carlos said. “Ingrid calibrated the gel to react to only specific solid force. Liquid force means nothing to the gel.”

“Nope,” Mike said, “that isn’t scientifically accurate.”

“Yes, it is,” Carlos said, “trust me, Tin Man, it’s accurate. We know what we’re doing.”

“Back off,” Thorne snapped at the tech, “don’t insult my people.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Mike said, “I’ve been called worse than Tin Man.”

“So we place these in specific spots and then what?” Shane asked.

“
Wh
y
is the better question,” Darby said.

“Okay, the
n
wh
y
?” Shane asked.

“We’ll coordinate their activation so that the shark is driven in the direction we want it driven,” Ingrid explained. “The ones closest to the ship will go off first, so the shark doesn’t try to attack us. It will flee from the grenades towards the others, which will steer it into a huge lagoon at the back of the island.”

“Which we are approaching now,” Thorne said as he pointed towards the island.

The B3 came about and they all stared at the massive cliff face that presented itself. At the bottom of the cliff was a small beach, which looked out on a huge lagoon that had to be over half a mile wide. Filled with crystal clear water, the lagoon was ringed by a natural rock barrier, but the opening that led out into the ocean was obviously blocked by something man made.

“Uh...what’s in the lagoon?” Mike asked.

“The answer to our shark problem,” Carlos said.

“Hold on,” Shane interrupted as he counted on his fingers then pointed at Ingrid. “You said three apiece. There are five of us, so that would be two apiece with two left over.”

“Four of you will be setting the grenades,” Ingrid said, “while one of you opens the gate.”

“Opens the gate?” Shane asked. “Opens the gate to what?”

“The lagoon, moron,” Carlos said. “We can’t corral the shark in the lagoon if it isn’t open, now can we?”

“We’re going to trap it in there?” Mike asked. “Then what? Blow it up?”

“No, not blow it up,” Ingrid frowned. “All the weapons in the armory are, well, wrapped up right now. No explosives to use, even if that was the plan.”

“So, if we aren’t going to blow it up, then what are we going to do?” Mike asked.

“Let nature take its course,” Ingrid shrugged, “sorta.”

***

“We’re going to do what?” Darren snapped. “No fucking way!”

“It’s what it’s designed to do,” Gunnar said. “It’s not real. D. Ballantine had Boris create it just like he created the other creatures.”

“You think he created the sharks?” Lake asked. “What about the rest of those fucking things we’ve dealt with? You don’t think Ballantine has had us out chasing monsters just to clean up his mess, do you?”

Darren and Gunnar turned and looked at Lake, and then they looked at each other, then back at Lake.

“What?” Lake asked as he cracked open a beer and tipped it towards them. “You know Ballantine and his secrets. Makes more sense that we’re his fucking janitors, not his Team for hire out doing the company’s business, and who the fuck is this company? You know what I think?”

“You’re fucking drunk?” Darren said and looked out the window as he slowed the throttle and steered the ship right where he wanted it. “Get off my bridge if you’re gonna be a drunk pain in my ass.”

“My bridge,” Lake said, “my bridge.”

“Shut up,” Gunnar sighed, “both of you. We need to get prepared for what’s coming.”

The sonar beeped again and they turned their attention to the shark that raced towards the ship.

“It’s less than five miles out,” Darren said, “this shit better work.”

***

Tank Top stared down at the decapitated body and severed head of John Bill, then looked up at Gil and Lug. The two men backed away from the body they’d just set down, neither of them wanting to look Tank Top in the eye.

“Just lying there? In the fucking corridor?” Tank Top asked.

“Just lying there,” Gil said. “Those Grendel assholes told us we’d find him and we did when we came inside. Fucking weird, Tank. His head was ripped right off. Not twisted off, but ripped off.” Gil nudged the open neck with his boot. “See? Look at the flesh. Something pulled his head off from above.”

Tank Top turned and found Ballantine smiling at him.

“You know anything about this?” he asked Ballantine.

“Nope,” Ballantine said, grinning wider.

“You do,” Tank Top said as he stomped over to where the man stood, leaning against a bank of servers. “You know what did this to John Bill!”

“I don’t, Jason, honest,” Ballantine said as he held up his hands, “but you’ve seen what’s on this island. Maybe something got loose and is hunting you all one by one right now.”

“Fuck you,” Tank Top said, “I’ll get an answer. Bokeem!”

“What?” Bokeem asked as he stood next to Boris while the scientist sat at a terminal and oversaw the data transfer from the server bank to a case of flash drives at his feet. “I’m busy.”

“Ask Dr. Moreau there what ripped John Bill’s head off!” Tank Top yelled.

“I need to concentrate, please,” Boris said. “This system was not designed for the rapid transfer of information. It would be much easier if you just took the backups stored in the vault.”

Ballantine’s smile fell. He shook his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Thank you for telling them that, Doctor,” Ballantine said, “that was very helpful.”

“What?” Boris asked as he looked up from the terminal. “What was helpful?”

“You telling us we can skip this bullshit and just jack the backups from the vault,” Tank Top said. “Now, where’s the vault?”

Boris looked from Tank Top to Ballantine. “Oh, dear. I’ve made a mistake, haven’t I?”

“It appears so,” Ballantine said.