Something’s Down There

Chapter Sixteen

Anybody who lived on Peolle and could be there was there. Somebody had intercepted the faint CB transmission from the Mallis and the word spread like a ground fire. They lined the bank and were spaced down the dockside to help berth the damaged vessel when Hooker and Billy untethered it from the Clamdip. The smiles of the people seemed louder than a cheer, but those smiles hid the anxious minutes they had faced before they saw the two boats edging toward home. Now voices were low as they patted their friends, happy to have them back, and in their eyes you could read their thoughts, that a great story would be forthcoming soon, of being hit twice by the eater and still being alive.

Hooker held Judy’s hand and nodded toward the crowd. “Remember this, honey,” he said. “Put their faces in your mind. Look at Poca and Lule and grab the anticipation in their expressions. They’re going to be the big wheels when showtime comes around a campfire.”

“I’ll never forget it, Mako.”

“Then grab your camera and get some quick shots. It’s something Pell’s never going to see.”

The camera lens was the latest technology could offer. The light wouldn’t have suited a Hollywood cameraman but was perfect for this scene. Judy panned the area very slowly, pausing for critical actions, taking in the subdued motions of people as they crouched over the planking of the dock to see where the eater had bitten. Each face seemed to mirror a different emotion, bewilderment, consternation and always a suppressed fear of the unknown.

When she had finished, she packed everything in the camera case and passed it to Billy to be stored away. Only then did Hooker see Berger emerge from the back of the crowd and wave to him, indicating that he wanted to see him.

There was no way Charlie Berger was going to set foot on the dock and endanger his outfit, so Hooker said, “Wait here. I’ll be back after I see what the fat man wants. And tell the brothers I want to see them both in a half hour.”

“You want any more film shot, Mako?”

Hooker grinned at Judy. “Only if it looks good.”

On the beach Hooker walked over to Charlie Berger, wondering what the fat man had for him now. He had long been aware of Charlie’s knowledgeability and wasn’t at all surprised to see his connection with Chana Sterling. He had figured himself to be out of that business now, but “now” hadn’t lasted very long at all. He almost had it made, retirement in a lush area, his own boat and suddenly a lovely woman. And in one shot the meteor had landed on his head and he was back in the jumbled mass of intrigue that kept this old-world system seemingly turned upside down.

Charlie waited until they were out of earshot of anyone and said, “A message came through for you from an Agency Electronics.”

How the hell did they locate this channel, Hooker thought.

Berger anticipated his reaction. He said, “The Company works in odd ways.”

“Not this odd.”

“Apparently whatever you do seems to require an immediate response.” He paused and stared at Hooker a moment. “And the Company doesn’t need to go into any explanations, either.”

“What about this call?”

“You are to contact this caller as soon as possible. They said you’d know how and didn’t go into any details.”

“Does Chana know about this?”

“I don’t think so. The Tellig was out at sea and you were en route to Peolle. I’d be their nearest source. I was informed that you could use our facilities if you wished.”

“I appreciate it, Charlie, but I’ll make out okay.”

In the short time he had been gone, a horde of helping hands had gotten the Mallis’ boat up on the dolly that ran up the ramp on the old rusted iron railroad tracks. This night they’d have it settled on the beach for inspection and repair, and whatever they found would be part of the folklore of the island. The story would go out, photographs would document the incident, and the bigger magazines would send their teams again to enhance the news that would add to the mystique of Peolle, creating another tourist attraction.

Hooker spit down in the sand, disgusted.

Tomorrow he’d look over the bottom of the boat himself. He’d be able to see what had hit that ancient hull that had a thousand feet of water under it. Briefly, he remembered what Kim Sebring had said about the movements of the plates in the earth below, but had there been an aberration like that it would have shown with an epochal destructive force picked up on every instrument around the world. No, there was no sudden rising of a new mountain from the subterranean belly of the underworld.

Billy stood at the wheel of the Clamdip, crossing the placid waters that gave off heat and a smell of a world apart. A round oval of a school of bait fish suddenly erupted on the surface, and out of seemingly nowhere the gulls and other seabirds appeared, descending on the rolling mass, gulping their fill until the bait fish disappeared as quickly as they had come—and the birds left too, squalling their satisfaction.

Judy said softly, “Are we going where I hope we’re going?”

“This time you can see how I live.”

“I know how you live.”

A frown touched Hooker’s eyes and he glanced at her.

“Billy told me.” She smiled.

“Am I a slob?”

“He said you take many medicines.”

“He’s wrong. I have them, but I don’t take them.”

“What are they for?” she asked.

“Painkillers, mainly. They’re all legal.”

“Do you hurt?”

He let out a small laugh. “Only when it rains. Down here it doesn’t rain much.”

The way he said it sent a sharp pang of sadness through her body. He was alone, but he wasn’t lonely. He would hurt, but he wouldn’t complain. He had a shell about him you couldn’t see yet knew was there, an invisible armor he didn’t want but had to have to protect others from becoming like him. Then she remembered his kiss and the way he had touched her and wondered for a moment if it was she who had the shell about her.

When she was in Mako’s quarters she understood Billy’s description of him living like a soldier. There were no luxuries. Everything was essential and everything was in its place. The building itself was a renovation of an earlier structure, obviously erected from the timbers and woodwork of old ships that had been storm-wrecked on the shores of the island. A stout wooden barrel under the eaves collected rainwater for an improvised shower while a hand pump brought groundwater up to the kitchen from a hand-driven pipe that went down thirty feet.

While she was on the porch listening to Billy telling her how his boss had successfully improvised to make his area a good base for his operation, she heard Mako rustling around inside, then begin speaking to someone in a muted tone. She motioned to Billy and they both moved out into the sand, watching the Clamdip riding alongside the dock.

Inside, Mako said to his old friend, “Man, I thought I had some security here.”

“Come on, pal, that’s my business too. I was with the Company myself, remember?”

“That was the old days. The Company’s changed their tricks.”

“The Company’s government. I’m business. Regulations don’t stand in the way of making a buck, kid, you know that. I still have my contacts too.”

Mako let out a short laugh and said, “I should have known. So, what have you got?”

There was the sound of rustling papers on the other end and his buddy said, “I hope you don’t want the details of all this...”

“I don’t.”

“Your subject, Anthony Pell, doesn’t like to leave tracks. He left his Hollywood address at eight in the morning, and there ended the Anthony Pell identity. At LAX he boarded a plane to Miami—and this is an assumption, understand—using the name Arthur Peters, the same initials. Most likely he had those stamped on his luggage. When he arrived in Miami, a limousine driver picked him up and took him to the Olivera Hotel, a small but very expensive place whose clientele seems to be heads of businesses who like to stay unseen.”

“That would be Tony Pallatzo, all right.”

“It figures.”

“He likes his first class accommodations,” Mako said, “but don’t tell me he stayed with the limousine.”

This time the voice at the other end chuckled back. “Hell, he went back to his old days on this one, Mako. They have those Rent-A-Wreck car places in Miami too. We checked every one of them before we located the AP initials again. This time it was Alfred Palmer, and like the airline deal, there was a credit card in that name too. We checked the addresses on the credit cards and they were commercial drops you could route mail through to another address. His was a post office box in West Los Angeles. He took a ten-year-old Ford, put thirty-eight miles on the odometer before turning it in again the next day. That one trip was just about all it took to go from the car rental place to the area you designated and back.”

“Beautiful, buddy. You did a great job.”

“You want confirmation?”

“Look, I got a few other goodies on this guy. He’s bad, real bad.”

“How many good guys do we know anyway?” Mako asked.

“Not too many, pal,” his old friend told him before he broke the connection.

Pell had played it cool, all right, Hooker thought. He wasn’t about to trust the job in this country to any underling. This was just too damn big to let anyone get a hold on it. And he would have covered himself with his bosses and they would have okayed the deal because Anthony Pell was a totally reformed hood, years from his origins, independently wealthy and absorbed in the big businesses of reputable men. But old Tony Pallatzo had made one big mistake. He had reverted to carrying out a hit in the only way he knew, with all the stupid supposed simplicity of a plain old street hood.

He did have one advantage. When he made the deal with the Becker Bank he must have sensed the possibility of the deal getting quashed before it was consummated. He could have had that strange intuition of the crooked, knowing that the committee of finance was affable, but the headman had a secret reservation about this new client. The mob had their own connections overseas too. Everything was in place and Becker was easy to drop. Even now there would be no uproar because the loan had already been repaid with interest.

“Cute,” Mako said to himself. “Very cute.”

When he slipped his hand into Judy’s she jumped, startled, then squeezed his fingers. “You walk like Billy.”

“Like I have sand in my feet?”

“Yes.”

“Where’d Billy go?”

“To make up his bed on the Clamdip.”

“You know, you two are trying to get me into trouble.”

“How is that?” Judy asked impishly.

“Because he busted his chops to get us to meet and I’m beginning to think you had a part in planning all that. He did everything he could to keep us together and did it so cleverly that nobody could catch the act going on.”

“You... don’t approve?” she said.

“I wasn’t planning on letting Billy go back to the boat.”

This time she slipped her arm through his and edged him into a walk along the sandy path. “Aren’t we a little big for a chaperone?”

“No. Hell, I don’t mean...”

“Yes you do,” she said, laughing, “and I’m glad you feel that way.” His questioning look made her add, “I always wondered what it would be like to be seduced.”

“You?” Her words surprised him.

“The thing is, I wouldn’t want to be seduced by a seducer.”

Mako stopped, let out a grunt and shook his head. “Now what kind of an idea is that? What other kinds are there?”

“Ones like you,” she said simply.

“Damn, I’m not going to seduce you!”

“Why not?”

Only for a moment was he angry. It showed in his face very briefly, then his teeth flashed in a tight smile when he saw how neatly he had fallen into the net. In that single instant he reviewed every minute of his life; the door was wide open and he could step through it and be in a place where he really wanted to be.

He said, “Because someplace en route, kid, I went and fell in love with you.”

“Is that bad?”

“You answer that,” he told her.

“I think it’s grand, my Mako man, because I feel the same way.”

“But you’re still not going to get seduced, kiddo.”

“I know,” she said. “My time will come.”

“Tonight you can sleep in my bed. I’ll take the couch.”

“You have clean sheets?”

“All soldiers have clean sheets on base.”

At first light the people of Peolle had gathered around the Mallis’ boat, standing back with a strange awe of fearsome expectations, knowing the eater had touched this hull and left its mark on it. Beneath the keel Lule and Poca were crawling closer to the rent bottom, finally feeling the slash in the thick planking. Nobody spoke. Nobody ventured an opinion. All they could do was look and wait.

Mako told Judy to stay at the edge of the crowd and got under the boat with the two brothers. He didn’t remain at arm’s length from the gash in the wood; he went right to it, throwing the beam of his flashlight directly on the spot the eater had hit.

He felt a cold chill touch him when he saw the tooth marks. One had gone right through two inches of solid oak, nipping out a gouge a foot and a half long. The other three hadn’t penetrated the way the other had, but they tore into the planking a good inch in one raking blow.

But what really chilled him was the shape of the bite, a huge curve of a mighty bite from a creature that was simply nibbling at its victim, rather than satisfying an unnatural hunger.

Mako hadn’t noticed that Billy Bright had joined him, his eyes following his hands tracing out the arc of the teeth marks. His face was filled with wonder and curiosity and Mako knew what he was thinking. Before, the teeth marks had been odd or indistinct. The unbelievers could have reason to believe the damage was caused by flotsam that had metal edges that could rip and scar, like what drifted up on Scara Island.

But now here was the proof, not only the destructive rending of the teeth but the deadly, huge semicircle of its gaping mouth. This incontrovertible proof was not something that would be spoken of yet. None of the islanders would go under the hull for any further inspections. They would accept the tight expressions on the faces of Lule and Poca and watch closely the actions of Billy Bright and Mako Hooker.

As he and Billy were sliding out, Mako saw Judy taking angle shots of the crowd, then coming back to the two of them. Very quickly she handed the Minicam to Mako and he went back under the hull, panned the bottom to show the nature of the damage, then went in for close-ups that showed the oval configuration of the tooth marks. When he finished he snapped the film cartridge out and tucked it inside his shirt.

Poca and Lule were waiting patiently for Mako’s judgment call. He said, “That’s an expensive hole in your bottom, friends.”

“Yes, we can see that,” Poca said. “But we have not much money.”

“You want it fixed up for free?”

Lule shook his head. “That is impossible, sar. It would have to be replanked...”

“I didn’t ask how it would be done. I just said would you like it done for free?”

“But how...”

“Okay, do this,” Mako stated. “One of you always stay here. Don’t let anybody go under your boat. Don’t let anybody take pictures. If you see anybody with a camera sneaking around, you get help and get them the hell out of here. Think you can manage that?”

“And we get our boat fixed for free?”

Mako nodded. “Free.”

The brothers grinned at each other, then turned their grins on Mako. “We do that, sar.”

“And don’t call me ‘sar,’” he said.

“Yes, sar,” they said together.

On the way to the Clamdip Judy asked, “Why keep a guard on their boat?”

Mako took the film pack out of his shirt. “I don’t want this duplicated. Together, all these little film clips are going to be parlayed into the biggest scene you’ve ever come across. When this movie is made it will bury everything on the market.”

Judy’s brows came together in a grim expression. “That is,” she said to him, “if the eater is destroyed.”

Billy Bright licked his lips and caught Mako’s eyes. “Is it... the Carcharodon megalodon?”

Billy waited for his answer.

Mako said, “No, Billy, it’s not that monstrous great white shark. It’s a lot bigger than that.”

“How much bigger?”

“Like a barracuda to a bait fish.

“Then nobody can kill it.”

“Somebody will have to, Billy.”

When they boarded the Clamdip and Mako put his film in the concealed safe box, Billy called to him. “Sar,” he said, “that movie boat, she is coming in to dock.”

Judy went topside to see Lotusland tying up at the far end of the government pier. “Now what are they doing here?”

“Anthony Pell wants to make a movie for you, honey. He’s following the action.”

“Why are you smiling like that?” She was watching him strangely.

“Because one day he’s going to catch up with it.” His tone was low and had a dangerous edge.

Billy Bright was watching him from a corner of the cabin and for one brief second he saw Mako the way people who died had seen him, a dealer in death itself, the winning hand in every battle, bloodied often but always alive, someone to be avoided, someone terrible. Yet he knew that was exactly what Hooker had given up a long time ago.

But this was another time.

Judy said, “I’m going to meet them when they dock.”

“Why?”

“I want to speak to Tony.”

“He’ll lie.”

“I’ll know.”

Mako shook his head. “No you won’t. He’s an expert at it. Nobody will know that inflatable was in the water. He’ll have every base covered.”

“He’ll have to get that film developed. That’s something he can’t do himself.”

“No, but he’ll stick by the process and get it right out of the machine. Who is there to countermand his orders?”

“I can.”

“Hell, you’re here.”

“So?”

“By now he’d have that clip buried somewhere you couldn’t find it.”

“Mako... there aren’t that many hiding places on Lotusland. There are people there I can trust and believe me, we’ll get to it.”

He knew there was no use trying to dissuade her. She was in this as deep as he was and she wasn’t going to be talked out of making her own judgment calls. He said, “You be damn careful, you hear?”

Judy smiled gently. “I’m a pretty good actress,” she said, “among other things.”

“What other things?”

“Maybe I’ll show you one day.”

Billy said, “Sar... the Tellig ship, she is maybe four miles out. She coming to Peolle too.”

“Maybe somebody’s giving a party,” Mako suggested.

Chana stepped to the dock, her eyes on the Lotusland tied up ahead. “What are they doing here?”

“Don’t make waves,” Lee Colbert told her.

“This is a government-owned docking station, damn it!”

“We lease the facility, Chana.”

“And this bunch is legally obligated to enforce its responsibility.”

Lee Colbert’s voice turned cold when he spun around and accosted Chana. “You know, it’s people like you who get us in hot water in these outposts. We’re different cultures and even though we have an agreement with them, we’re in their backyard and sure as hell we’re going to go along with their way of doing things. Nobody’s getting hurt here. We both represent American interests and we’re going to let them tie up here, you understand that? First come, first served.”

“Lee,” Chana started harshly.

“Don’t say it, lady, or I’ll have your tail tied to a whipping post when we get back to the States. You may have some rank, baby, but I have a lot of combat time which you don’t and the brass will see it my way!”

The female side of Chana Sterling suddenly emerged with a sweet smile and she said, “Why, of course, Lee. You’re right. I certainly didn’t mean to disrupt things.”

In a low tone, Lee Colbert said, “Women!”

But Chana didn’t hear him at all. She had just seen the figure of Mako Hooker in the dimming light at the end of the pier. He was finishing a can of beer, then threw the empty in a wire bin and walked in the direction where he had moored the Clamdip.

He was her own personal spoiler, she thought. He would come along at exactly the right time to fire a shot across her bow and ruin her well thought out plans completely. He was always bigger, always better. Now he was here and leading the parade again. The Company should have kept him retired. They should have ignored him completely. He was a legend, let him stay one, damn it! With a tight smile of satisfaction she remembered one vivid thing. She had fired a shot across his bow once and hers had landed square and punched a hole in him.

Then her tight smile faded as she remembered... and she felt like a stupid turd.

She said to Lee, “Why don’t you and the crew go and see Charlie Berger. That bartender, Alley, will be glad to hear all the news. I’ll do guard duty this time.”

Lee wanted to tell her she didn’t want to take a chance on running into Hooker again, but he didn’t. He agreed curtly and told her, “Sure, the boys could use a few cold ones about now. Just don’t forget your side arm.”

Before the men left the ship she had checked the clip in the .45 automatic she preferred over the newer issue, dropped it in the holster and fastened the webbed belt around her waist. Then she went out to the bow, pulled up a deck chair and sat down.

Three boats left that night, their owners having no choice but to get to the fishing areas where the mulako would be gathered over the high rise in the bottom. There they would stay for the week of the full moon, then disperse to another quadrant of the ocean man hadn’t discovered yet. But for this one week the mulako would offer up a season’s supply of food that was nutritious, plentiful and easy to take. The natives of the islands had depended on this dietary staple for generations, ignoring weather conditions or total reliability of their boats.

Now the eater was the enemy.

They drew lots to see who would crew the three largest boats and those chosen went without complaint, but dread made their insides loose. The attack on the Mallis’ boats was positive evidence that a wild menace was still at loose, unharnessed, deadly... and waiting.

At sunset they were waved away from the beach, starting a full night’s sail to the mulako’s feeding grounds by dawn. For six hours they would run their nets, then pick up a compass heading back to Peolle. This time they wouldn’t joke or laugh because, if they had gotten this far, they knew they might actually go all the way and be home safely. So they would watch the surface for any break, fearfully alert to any sign of an unnatural presence, aware that the lives of a whole island depended on them.

Without knowing it, all three boats passed directly over the bulk of the eater. They had no fish finders aboard so they never knew that death was only a hundred fifty feet below their keels. But at this time nothing disturbed that menace. After the boats had passed it lifted its ugly snout a brief moment, rose gently until it was barely beneath the surface, then placidly settled down to its previous depth.

This night there was no celebration on the beach. Quietly the crowd drifted back to their small houses to wait, every person uncertain but hoping for the best.

The crew of the Tellig made a small group at the bar, sipping at their beers, listening to Alley’s jokes and avoiding any talk of the eater. They were military personnel and they didn’t accept unrealistic theories about the eater. If it even existed, it could be eliminated.

At nine-fifteen, Mako came in with Charlie Berger and ordered two beers at Charlie’s table. Charlie downed the first one in a few gulps and had Alley bring him another. When that was half gone he said to Mako, “Are you making a report on how the Malli boat got hit?”

“I don’t know how it happened, Charlie. I told you about the pierced planking. Why don’t you go look for yourself?”

“I won’t fit under there, you know that.”

“So don’t say anything.”

“Why not?”

“Because it isn’t over. If a report has to go through, let Chana send it. If something has to come down on somebody, let her be the target.”

“Target? You know where she is right now?”

Hooker said no.

“She’s guarding the Tellig while the crew gets a night off.”

“Smart dame.”

Berger took another pull at his beer and asked, “Where’s yours?”

“Who?”

“Come on, Hooker, everybody on the island knows you two have the hots for each other.”

“Easy, pal.” Hooker’s voice was suddenly threatening.

“Sorry, but you know what I mean. No offense.”

“She’s taking a nap.”

“At your place?”

“Where else?” Hooker got up, tired of where the conversation was going, and said good night to the fat man. He got a grunt in return and left the place, waving so long to the bar crowd. Tomorrow he’d give Alley all the details about the night’s events and he’d sell more beer to the customers.

He headed south along the beach to where Billy was readying the Clamdip for the next day’s run. He’d make sure everything was in order, then get back to his digs to check on Judy and make certain the mosquito netting was in place.

When he got to the boat he saw the soft glow of the small light at the wheel, but there was no sound of radio music from Billy’s shortwave set. He stopped before going over the side but heard no sounds at all. That wasn’t like Billy. Leaving the boat unattended in times like these would be unthinkable to the Carib.

And suddenly Hooker realized that he was tired. He had let his guard down and filled his mind with other thoughts, and before he could make his next move, he felt the cold nose of a gun barrel touch his neck and knew it was being held at arm’s length by somebody who knew what he was doing. This guy wasn’t leaving room for his victim to spin and hit him.

The stacked pile of crab traps had hidden the waiting figure, and stupidly Hooker had unconsciously walked close. The sand had muffled any footsteps, but the metal of a gun against his skin made everything very real.

The voice behind him said, “Put your hands on your head.”

Mako knew who it was. He remembered it from the first time he heard it. The little slob who had planted the bomb on his boat earlier now was planting one on him. Without using any names Hooker said, “Where’s Billy?”

Gary Foster said, “You’ll see him soon enough.” The gun pressed harder against his skin. “Just keep going south. Try anything funny and you die right on the spot. Stay right along the waterline until I tell you to stop.”

He was back in the real game now. The guns were out and his run was for keeps. The new dog had just nailed the old mutt but hadn’t put his teeth into him yet. This kill was something the young pup was going to savor and he was going to do it right, not letting the big, shaggy mongrel who was stumbling along in front of him get one chance to make a surprise move and capture the fatal edge. There comes a time when old dogs have to die and let the new slashers lead the pack.

In the darkness Gary Foster couldn’t read Mako’s face at all, but Mako knew that he was thinking. The advantage was all his because he had the gun on Mako’s neck. But it was an unnatural stance to take, his forearm stretched out, not realizing that the intended victim was thinking too, and the old dog wasn’t new to this situation either. He’d play it cool, not letting Foster generate any sudden hatred and start blasting before he had had his turn at bat.

So he played the intimidated old dog, a little scared and feeling very stupid for letting himself be nailed like this. His feet were hesitant and he let his chest heave as though the exertion was almost too much for him, nearly stopping once, fatigued, until a nudge of the gun barrel urged him forward.

It was a game he didn’t like, but it was taking him closer to Billy, wherever that was, and to the final end of things. And there was where it all would really stop.

He saw the inflatable from Lotusland before Foster told him to hold it. Another nudge and he was at the side of the boat, and when Gary Foster clicked the switch on the small flashlight he had two seconds to see Billy sprawled on the floor of the boat, his head a bloody mess, swelling his features. For a second he thought Billy was dead, then he saw the tiny bubbles foaming at his mouth and knew he was still alive.

A cold rage came to Mako, but it wasn’t blind. It was cool and very calculating. He knew what was coming next, and when Foster told him to put his hands behind his back he didn’t wait for the gun to smash him into obedience but put his hands there, his wrists crossed, his head drooping humbly, and felt Foster slap the duct tape around them twice before ripping the tape off the spool.

Gary said, “Get in there,” and let the light hit the boat briefly. Mako stepped over the huge bulbous side of the inflatable, caught his toe on the safety rope that ran around the side and fell on his back right across Billy’s legs.

He went to shift himself into an upright position and Gary snarled, “You stay there. You’re not going to hurt your friend any. Hell, he might even die before we get where we’re going.”

So Hooker stayed put, exactly where he wanted to be. His hands were out of sight and Foster never knew he had positioned his wrists to give him enough slack to get free without too much trouble. Then Foster stepped past him and sat down beside the outboard engine and by then Mako was loose without anyone knowing about it.

While Foster was starting the big Japanese motor, Mako’s hands made a quick exploratory move and touched Billy’s ankle. The slob Foster was a typical city-bred foreigner. Billy, like all fishermen, always had a sheath knife on his belt. Foster would have snagged that one away before he clobbered the Carib. But Billy had another one. He kept it on his ankle, a reserve line cutter in case he was dragged over the side by a marlin.

Now Mako had it in his hand.

The big Japanese motor had a soft sound, not like the roar Americans seemed to relish. Gary Foster sat at the wheel, glancing at the instrument panel until he was set on course. The light was dim, but Mako was beginning to get his night vision back and he could see the gun still in Gary’s hand.

Now was when he had to initiate a conversation: Foster would want to brag about the conquest. The world wouldn’t ever know of it, but Mako would hear his gloating and that would be enough.

It sounded trite when he said, “Where are you taking us?”

Foster’s giggle had a childish quality to it. “Like the man said in the movies, for a long, quiet ride.”

Mako brought his knees up as if he were going to stand and Gary waved the gun at him. “Stay put, smart guy. I could shoot you and put all the holes I wanted to in the sides of this boat. This isn’t air-filled. It’s a rigid baby and everything’s packed with flotation.”

“They’re gonna miss us, Foster.”

Again, that giggle. “Man, they’re never going to find you. Hell, you think I’m an idiot or something?”

“Why you doing this, anyway?” Mako demanded helplessly.

Gary checked his instruments before answering, then said, “Because me and Pell are gonna be partners, that’s why. I missed taking you two out once before, but not this time, buddy, not this time. Now you’ll just disappear like smoke.”

Underneath Mako Billy let out a low moan and said something in his own language. Foster grunted, “He sure got a hard head, that one. I thought I had him down for good.”

“What’ve you got against him? He’s just a native fisherman.”

“He works for you and that’s enough.”

“You just can’t kill us and...”

“That’s just what I’m going to do. And let me tell you something. I could kill you here and now or let you sweat a little while. It don’t matter. The sharks will be waiting when we get there and no parts of you will be floating back to shore.”

“What sharks?”

“I got a sealed barrel floating out there loaded with fish guts and blood and an explosive timer. When I touch the detonator button here, that place will be alive with sharks minutes later and you two can have a good swim.”

Mako knew Foster was grinning at him. He couldn’t see his face, but he knew it and said, “What’s so damn funny?”

“I’m trying to think how I’m going to shoot you. I don’t want the whole boat all bloody, but you got to be still while I throw you over.”

“How’re you going to explain the holes in the canvas?”

“Who cares? This hull has a mess of patches on it now. Besides, when it gets back it’ll be scuttled.”

Under him Billy was moving and Mako heard him groan. “Let me get off this guy.”

“Sure,” Gary said sneeringly, “but move slow and easy. You’re gonna die and damn well know it, but I hold all the cards and you don’t want to die too soon. So, play it cool, man, play it cool.”

Very easily, Mako squirmed off the form of Billy and heard a sigh of relief bubble through his lips. Then he felt a tap on his leg. Billy had been out, all right, but not out that much, and he didn’t want Gary to know it.

Mako turned his head toward Foster. “Throw some water on his face, will you? The guy can hardly breathe.”

With a lighthearted grunt Foster picked up a bailing bucket, held it over the side until it was half filled, then tossed the contents into Billy’s face. The Carib let out a gasp, spit out some salt water and groaned again. Only Mako knew that groan was a fake.

“Can you do that again for him?”

“Why, what would he care? He won’t be around long enough to enjoy it.” Then the idea suddenly appealed to him. So he let the Carib know what it was really like to swim with the fishes. He’d have a bullet hole in him first to keep him a little quiet while one of those big gray babies took the first bite.

Once more he dipped the pail over and threw its contents at Billy’s face. This time his eyes partially opened. The stars were out, and with the limited light, night vision was sharp and clear, though sharply restricted. A flurry of motion over the surface of the ocean brought a couple dozen flying fish in a frenzied formation passing over the inflatable, and something else touched the bottom; Billy moaned and pushed himself partially erect on his elbows.

“Easy, there, man. You lie down again.”

Billy nodded dreamily, took two long breaths of air, turned his head to one side momentarily and flopped down again.

Once more something touched the bottom of the boat. Gary Foster had his feet up on the rail around the small wheel box and never felt it.

From the bottom, Billy Bright said, “You be one lousy piece of crab bait, you.”

Gary Foster’s teeth clamped together and he looked for something to throw at Billy. He grabbed the pail and reached over the side to scoop it full and smash it into Billy’s face, when the sea erupted into a monstrous terror of bulk and teeth that grabbed Foster’s arm above the elbow and hauled him over the side; the scream he let out was so brief that it was hardly any sound at all.

Mako stood up, the little knife still in his hand. Billy grinned when Mako slipped it back in the holster on his leg. “Sar... what would you do with that small blade?”

“You wouldn’t want me to tell you, my friend.”

Very seriously Billy said, “Yes, sar, I really would.”

Mako nodded. “I would have flipped the blade into his eyeball and he would have died a second later.”

“Sar... you can... throw a knife... like that?”

Mako just smiled his answer back and Billy knew.

“Your Mr. Mako Shark got there first, he did.”

“What?”

“That was your shark, sar.”

“Look...”

“Twice, he touched the bottom of the boat, sar. He was telling you he was coming.”

“Billy, damn it...”

“I could smell he, sar. I saw his tail with the cuts on it.”

There was no sense arguing. Mako went and sat down where Gary had been so recently. On the slanted instrument board he saw the detonator and picked it up. If the boat was still on course that barrel should be straight ahead. He touched the detonate button and a full mile ahead the flare of an orange explosion made a small blossom before the darkness closed in again. Now the sharks out there could revel in their soup of blood and guts.

“Your shark, sar. He be happy,” Billy told him. Mako waited for the rest of the explanation. “You give him his name back now. For sure you be real brothers like we be. He save you, so he be ver’ happy.”

Mako let out a little laugh and hoped Billy was right. Then he spun the inflatable around and headed back to Peolle.