Kronos

17

Over the Gulf of Maine

“Nothing yet,” Andrea shouted into her headset.

“Same here,” Reilly said.

“ Nada upfront,” came Watson’s cool voice.

Earlier, Andrea had approached her commanding officer at the Coast Guard, Gordon Schrumzen. Though a stickler for protocol, she had expected the man, who was a father figure to most in the Guard, to cut her some slack. But he had flat out denied her request to mount a search for a friend at sea. Even if she believed the man was in danger, there was no proof, no distress call. They weren’t the police, and it sounded like the man had gone of his own volition.

When she explained that the man was Dr. Atticus Young, whose daughter had been eaten by whatever sea creature the Jayhawk crew had seen, Gordon’s eyes looked to the floor. He explained that the Navy had confiscated the images, that they were not to contact the press, and that “the event had never happened.” But then he smiled and said they were all due for a training mission. He told her to organize it under whatever scenario she chose.

When she’d told her crew, every one of them was on board, raring to go. It would not only give them a chance to try finding the monster, but they’d also help Andrea find the man whose personal goal was to find, and most likely kill, the creature. They had mixed feelings about that, as did she, but no one wanted to be left out of the “training” mission.

“I’ve got something,” a kind voice said over the headset. Even old Chuck McCabe and his C-130 were in the air. “It’s big…really big; about ten miles north of your position.

“Copy that,” Watson replied. “Cap, you want to check it out?”

“Affirmative,” Andrea said. “But don’t get too close. Just move parallel to them so they don’t get spooked if they spot us.”

“You got it.”

For the next ten minutes, Andrea kept watch. She had no idea what to expect or what she might find. While the rest of her crew kept their eyes on the sea, searching for the creature, Andrea looked inward. While everyone else was searching for a monster, she was searching for a man…a friend…maybe more.

The Jayhawk suddenly banked to the right, pulling Andrea from her thoughts.

“Sorry about that,” Watson said. “We came up on them pretty quick. It looks like they’re just sitting there.”

Andrea looked out the side window and saw a white ship in the distance, perhaps a mile away. Placing binoculars against her eyes, she took in the ship. “What the hell…”

“I hear that,” Reilly said, peering through his own set of binoculars. “That’s the biggest, weirdest yacht I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah,” said Watson, “and it’s the weirdest, biggest yacht you’ll ever see. It’s the biggest yacht in the world; belongs to Trevor Manfred.”

Andrea knew the name, as she was sure most people in the world did. It was as common as “Bill Gates” or “Steve Jobs” or “Walt Disney.” The man was a legend. An eccentric, rich business mogul whose collecting habits made him a man to watch by the U.S. Coast Guard. While there was no concrete evidence against him, there were indications that he’d been the recipient of several priceless artifacts taken from the U.S. over the past twenty years, including a complete Tyrannosaurus rex skeleton. While her team had never encountered him, they were all well aware that he was to be monitored.

As Andrea scanned the top decks, she came to rest on a large black helicopter, perched silently on a landing pad. Her heart skipped a beat. The last time she’d seen it, Atticus was watching her from inside. “I want a boat out here, ASAP.”

“Umm, this is still just a ‘training exercise,’ Cap,” Watson said, his voice cool. “And a boat wasn’t part of the plan.”

“Training’s over, boys,” Andrea said. “Trevor Manfred is in the Gulf of Maine, and it’s our business to know why. Now call in a damn cutter.”

Andrea could hear Watson chuckling. The man knew she could call in a ship to watch Trevor; he just liked getting her worked up. It was known she had something of a fiery temper, and many of her crew got a kick out of seeing her in action. They haven’t seen anything yet, Andrea thought.

Andrea caught Reilly chuckling. “What’s so funny?” she asked.

“First a sea monster, not some giant squid or sperm whale, the real thing.” Reilly’s eyes were beaming with excitement. “And now Trevor Manfred himself is in our territory. I’m not sure I can handle much more excitement!”

He was joking, of course, but Andrea took him seriously. “Me too, kid. Me too.”

As the sun set, casting an orange glow over the ocean, the Jayhawk rendezvoused with a 270-foot Coast Guard cutter out of Kittery, Maine. They were en route to the Titan, Trevor Manfred’s castle on the high seas, for a confrontation with one of the most powerful men on the planet. Andrea felt sick to her stomach with worry, but not over an encounter with Manfred; rich, spoiled men she could handle. As for Atticus Young, well, she had no idea what to say to him. The truth, she told herself. She was there for him. Simple as that.

Her eyes returned to the ocean as she stood at the port rail, watching the cutter plow a swath through the sea, toward her unknown destiny. She clenched her jaw, resolute in what she had to do: protect Atticus Young, not from Trevor Manfred, but from himself.