Leviathan Read online

  “But the creature,” Wright prodded, “it is something new, right?”

  The ranger omitted pertinent information. “That’s fair to say.”

  The old man was unconvinced. The pleasure drained from his face, replaced by a more familiar sneer. A grin looked unnatural on Oscar Wright’s features, as if his body itself resisted any inkling to smile. “I just saved your lives. I deserve to know what I saved you from.”

  Kelly unbuttoned the breastpocket of her shirt and removed an item. She passed it to the billionaire: her sample tooth. The marine biologist was so scared of losing the piece that she kept it on her person at all times.

  Rafe returned with blankets and bottled water, meting out one of each to the scientists.

  Wright held the object in his hands with awe. This was his first tangible evidence of the creature, something to actually touch with his fingers. It stirred him to handle something which had been part of the beast. “A claw?” he said.

  “It’s a tooth,” Kelly told him.

  Inspired by its length, Wright imagined all the prey that had met a grisly end at the Leviathan’s teeth. Although the old man found it hard to hand over, he forced himself to give back the item. “It’s beautiful.”

  “I have to make a cast replica of it.”

  “Do you think the creature’s still around?” He nodded toward the Atlantic.

  Kelly wrapped herself in the blanket. “I have no doubt.”

  For an instant their eyes locked, each understanding the other was willing to risk everything to capture the sea monster.

  “We can’t thank you enough for the assistance,” Evan said. “You have excellent timing.”

  “My pleasure,” the old man said.

  Evan shook the billionaire’s hand. “I feel we owe you more than our appreciation. Is there anything we can do for you?” Wright was about to answer when Evan had an idea. “I know, come over tonight for dessert. A celebration of sorts. Bring your associate too.”

  “Associate?”

  “The pilot, Thorne.”

  “Oh, Thorpe,” he said. “When should we be over?”

  Kelly said, “Eight o’clock.”

  “Fine by me.” Wright crossed to the gangplank that bridged the two vessels. “Have those pictures ready. I’d like to look over them.”

  Bart followed the old man, disengaging the walkway once the billionaire was safely aboard the yacht.

  Edgar Wallis appeared from the Aurora’s forecastle. He arrived to the weather deck wondering why everyone had assembled. “What’s going on?” he asked the harried researchers.

  “Nothing you gotta worry about,” Kelly said. The less Edgar knew about their business, the better. If he discovered Kelly had used the Simon without proper authorization, she could very well lose her job. The marine biologist shirked off her towel and handed it to one of the interns. “That goes for the rest of you too. Get inside and stay there ‘til I say otherwise.” She pointed to the captain and engineer. “I need you two to stick around a bit longer.”

  She waited for the others to file below deck before elaborating. “We have to get the Simon out of the ocean. It’s taking on water, and I don’t know how long we have before it’s gone forever.” She looked at the captain. “Is that doable? The electrical system is shot, so I can’t steer it.”

  “We might be able to maneuver ahead of it then use the rear platform as a scoop. It’ll be tricky, but it should work.”

  She leaned close to the old tar and said, “Thanks for calling in help.”

  “I did no such thing,” Bart admitted. “I maintained total radio silence after you told me to shut up.”

  The marine biologist was puzzled. “Are you telling me Oscar Wright happened upon us by accident?”

  The captain shrugged. “I never sent out any mayday.”

  “I appreciate your candor,” she said. Her gaze shifted to Rafe. “Once the submersible’s aboard, will you be able to fix it?”

  “No promises ‘til I see the damage myself. How bad is it?”

  “Pretty bad,” Evan said.

  The engineer looked skeptical. “I’ll do my best.”

  “I don’t want your best; I want the Simon in working order again.” She asked the captain, “How long should it take you to get ready?”

  “Gimme twenty minutes to set up everything.”

  “You have ten,” Kelly said.

  * * * * *

  It took the captain fifteen minutes to reposition the Aurora’s stern to the submersible. Rafe operated the stabilizer deck, sliding it underneath the Simon and lifting the entire craft out of the water with the hydraulic system.

  The sub was not in good shape.

  The front end hadn’t been wholly demolished; the structural integrity remained intact. After rising from the ocean, it continued to leak from the perforated holes along the hull.

  Evan and Kelly watched over the engineer’s shoulder. “How’s it look?” she asked.

  Rafe was dubious. “Keep in mind I’m not a miracle worker. I can’t resurrect the dead.”

  “You’ll have to try.” The scientists helped Rafe hook the mini-sub to the Yumbo crane by three chains long ago rusted from the saltwater. They used a winch to hoist up the craft and place it neatly on the observation deck. Only now was Rafe able to make a proper assessment of the Simon.

  Damage to the exterior was extensive. Three large gashes marred starboard, none of which was deep enough to penetrate the bilge. “Scratch marks,” Evan told the engineer. He studied them as Rafe circled the mini-sub. Parts had been shredded as if by a cheese grater, thin flakes of titanium raked into curlicues. “I’d say the claws were about an inch wide, maybe eight inches long.” Evan understood how lucky they were to have survived such a harrowing experience.

  “What happened here?” Rafe asked.

  Kelly joined the Jamaican at the prow to inspect the front viewport. It was warped in places, the Plexiglas discolored like an oil slick on a mud puddle. The marine biologist touched the material and recoiled. It was warm and slightly sticky.

  “Looks like someone took a blowtorch to this window,” Rafe remarked.

  The comment intrigued Evan. “You think heat caused this?”

  “Dat’s about the only ting I can think,” he said.

  She remembered the hectic moment at which the glass cracked, after the creature had opened its mouth. At once the window splintered as though caused by a sound wave. But heat? That didn’t make sense.

  The longer she thought about it, however, the more rational it did seem. The video from her prior voyage had captured the same anomaly. Seconds before the Leviathan destroyed her camera, the thermal imager picked up temperatures that were off the scale. The amount of heat it took for this kind of damage would be several times that. There was no creature in the animal kingdom capable of producing such an intense source of torridity.

  Except the Leviathan existed beyond the normal realm of that kingdom, in fact redefined what it meant to be part of it. The beast may well be a crocodile, but it was also set apart from the rest of its reptilian kin.

  “I can’t repair this,” Rafe said. He motioned to the ragged end of the robotic arm. “Even if we had the rest of it, I couldn’t get it to work again. Not with the limited tools I have on the boat.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Kelly told him. “I just want it seaworthy again. All the bells and whistles don’t matter.”

  Once the Simon stopped draining, Rafe climbed the side ladder and stood atop the submersible. He untwisted the top cap and peeked inside. The engineer grimaced. Although the damage was bad, it wasn’t to the degree he expected.

  The Jamaican disappeared into the conning tower. The researchers paced outside, awaiting Rafe’s final report. The hull was easy enough to fix, the delicate machinery inside another matter altogether. The computers, the electronics — without those, the Simon was little more than a floating coffin. Kelly needed more protection than that if she planned to face the Leviathan
again.

  Several minutes later the mechanic’s head poked out. “You’re a lucky lady,” he said. “It appears the water didn’t do too much harm. Had you waited another hour to get it outta the ocean, everything would’ve been lost. A lot of the auxiliary equipment needs to be replaced; however, your vitals — the thrusters, data collections and whatnot — all appear to be in passable shape. I’ll have to work on them individually to make certain. I should have the rudimentary systems up and running at the very least.”

  “Is there anything we can do?” Evan asked.

  “Grab my tool kit. I’m gonna need my whole arsenal for this job.”

  Evan started toward the superstructure where he saw Edgar Wallis outlined in the doorway. Even from afar he found the little man disturbing. There was a look of disapproval on the lawyer’s face. “What’s the matter?” Evan asked him.

  Edgar shook his head in disappointment. “Mister Hamilton will not be pleased. The Simon — ”

  “Lucas will hear about this from me alone,” Kelly shouted from across deck.

  “You think you have him wrapped ‘round your finger.”

  She said, “That’s not true.”

  The attorney walked to the submersible. “No, I believe it is. He’s your lapdog, and the worst part is that he doesn’t realize it. But I do.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I’ve seen the way you look at him,” Edgar said. “Any time he’s about to go hard on you, out come the coy smiles and the cleavage. You don’t fool me. And you won’t fool the Institute. Not anymore. Mister Hamilton’s covered your ass too many times already. He’s put his own job on the line to save yours.”

  That revelation was news to her. Perhaps she had flirted with Hamilton in the past, harmlessly enough and not beyond reason since he was an attractive man. But she’d never act on those carnal impulses because she didn’t want an air of impropriety between them. Kelly didn’t want to give fodder to scum like Edgar Wallis, whose cries of sexual harassment could ruin her career.

  Evan returned with a greasy toolbox and handheld acetylene torch. He handed the equipment to the engineer.

  “And now you’ve really screwed the pooch,” Edgar continued. “Look at the mess you caused. How much will this cost to repair?”

  “More than a couple bucks,” she said. The government charged the Institute half a million dollars a year to lease the submersible; its basic operation alone cost five hundred dollars per day. As much as she wanted, Kelly couldn’t get too pissed at Edgar. He was right after all. For wrecking the Simon, the Institute would scream for no less than her head on a silver platter. Or at least her resignation letter on a paper plate.

  “Go ahead, try to wriggle outta this one,” Edgar said. “The Trustees will crucify you for this. And your lapdog won’t be able to help. This goes higher than Hamilton even. I will personally inform the Board about the deception and fraud I’ve witnessed on this trip.”

  “Fraud?”

  “Research expeditions taken under false pretenses, the destruction of taxpayer property, unnecessary risks that nearly got crewmembers killed — do I need to continue?”

  “I was one of those at risk,” she shouted. “I never asked a single person aboard to act without knowing what was at stake. Everybody here came by invitation. Everybody but you.”

  “The Trustees will have your job for this,” Edgar said.

  “You’re probably right,” she confessed. “But for right now I’m still employed, and there’s work to be done.”

  Kelly looked to Evan and the engineer, both of whom were already busy toiling on the Simon. Evan was welding the puncture holes on the hull while the Jamaican went about repairing the electronics inside.

  “I’m curious how interested you are in my affairs. And yet you keep your own secrets.”

  The attorney was confused. “Secrets?”

  “I know about you and Oscar Wright. I saw how buddy-buddy you were with him, thick as thieves.”

  “Sure, I find Mister Wright to be charming. You’re sorely mistaken if you think anything more than that.”

  “It’s hard to believe the Naglfar was nearby when we needed a helping hand. The Atlantic Ocean covers a mighty large area, and two ships being that close together has to be more than coincidence. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  “You think I slipped Mister Wright our whereabouts? I already explained that I’m not a mole.”

  “Yeah, that bullshit doesn’t pass the sniff test.” The marine biologist’s thin patience had run out and now she wanted a brawl.

  “Your accusations are baseless. This is sad, Kelly. You’re swinging blind, hoping to take down anyone else around you.”

  Kelly held up a white-knuckled fist. “You want me to add assault too? Tell me the truth.”

  “I never met Mister Wright before last night. And I certainly didn’t leak our coordinates to him. Your suspicions are mislaid, I’m afraid. Perhaps you should look elsewhere.”

  Edgar turned to exit the deck, leaving Kelly Andrews to ponder his words. It was ridiculous to think anyone else could be capable of working for the billionaire.

  But what if Edgar was right? It was a notion she had to entertain, whether or not she wanted to believe it. If he wasn’t lying, the marine biologist didn’t know whom to trust. Anyone may have been spying for Oscar Wright, and that unsettling thought made her nervous.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  KELLY CHECKED ON the Simon’s progress several hours later as the sun flirted with the horizon. Local cloud cover had dissipated, allowing large streaks of orange and pink to color the heavens.

  Red sky at night, sailors’ delight. Red sky in morning, sailors take warning.

  Should make for fair weather come tomorrow. Bart had heard the forecast on the radio. It would be pleasant in the morning, followed by afternoon thundershowers. She wanted the submersible back in the water before it started to storm.

  Evan and the engineer worked so hard to mend the vessel that neither noticed the fading light. Eventually the overhead spotlights switched on from an automatic timer. “How goes it?” she asked Evan.

  He finished welding the outer hull and had moved on to reinforce the cracked Plexiglas with a waterproof urethane sealant. The mini-sub didn’t need to be pretty; it just had to hold together. “Slow and steady,” he said.

  “Need any extra hands?”

  Evan shook his head. “Too many cooks in the kitchen. Anyone else would get in the way. Besides, Rafe and I have a good rhythm going and we don’t wanna jinx it.”

  Rafe’s head appeared over the conning tower. “Hey there, Miz Andrews.”

  “How’s it coming along inside?”

  “She ain’t dead yet, but she’s on life support.”

  “Can you have it ready and in the water by morning?” Kelly didn’t know how feasible that was. Both workers stared at her, their faces fraught with doubt.

  “Mebbe in the afternoon,” Rafe said.

  “I’m gonna hold you to that.” Her wristwatch said it was quarter to eight. She expected the old man at any minute. The Naglfar hadn’t strayed from view that day and had motored back alongside the Aurora within the last twenty minutes. “I’d say you guys have earned a break. Wright will be here soon, so come have some cake with us. Are either of you hungry?”

  Evan nodded and the Jamaican said, “Sure ting.”

  Sure ting.

  An innocuous remark, something she’d heard him say numerous times before. Except now it triggered a latent memory, a moment from earlier in the afternoon that had been lost in the excitement.

  Kelly vividly remembered when Oscar Wright descended the ladder from the helicopter, he’d called out for the Jamaican. “Rafe, grab a couple dry towels and something for them to drink.”

  To which the engineer replied, “Sure ting.”

  How had Wright known the Jamaican’s name? He hadn’t met Rafe when they boarded the Naglfar for dinner, because the mechanic had been with the
first mate in the engine room that evening. That left one other alternative.

  The marine biologist felt sick to her stomach. Not Rafe . . . poor, trustworthy Rafe.

  “You head inside,” she told Evan. He set aside some tools and got to his feet, knees popping.

  “I’ll go brew a strong pot of coffee. We’ll need it tonight if we’re working through the sunrise.”

  Evan went to the orlop, giving Kelly the opportunity to speak privately with Rafe. “Come on down here,” she said. The Jamaican crawled out of the conning tower and climbed off the ladder. He walked up to her, wiping grimy hands on his overalls.

  “Is there anything you’d like to tell me?” she asked.

  He thought hard before answering. “I’ve been going over the wiring and may be able to rig up a basic arrangement with the robotic arm.”

  “That’s not what I’m worried about,” Kelly said. “You must’ve heard that argument I had with Edgar earlier.” Rafe averted his eyes from her steel gaze. It would’ve be hard for the engineer not to have overheard the heated exchange.

  “Yes ma’am,” he whispered quietly. It was the first time he’d ever referred to Kelly Andrews as ma’am.

  She laid a firm hand on his shoulder. “You were the last person I expected, Rafe.”

  He looked at her, not understanding at first. Then ripe tears collected in the corners of his eyes.

  “How long has this been going on?” she asked.

  His head hung downcast in embarrassment. “Two years ago,” he said. “Since Kincaid left. He was the one Mister Wright asked for help. And when he moved away” — Rafe choked back a sob — “I stepped in.” That was the part that shamed him most. Oscar Wright needn’t tempt the Jamaican to spy on his behalf, because Rafe willingly offered.

  “I hope he at least paid you.”

  Rafe nodded, a tear dripping off the tip of his nose. “Hundred bucks a week.” Four hundred dollars per month, roughly the modern equivalent to thirty pieces of silver. “I sent it all home, same as I do with every paycheck.”