playing football my junior year at Penn State. I remember it hurt for weeks.”
“What was that … about a century ago?” Mac entered the room, limping noticeably.
“Mac, they told me you were okay.”
“I jammed my left knee when we landed. Probably tore the meniscus. At least I was strapped in. Hey, doc, were you the one who treated the diver?”
“Yes.” Dr. Ford shifted the scope to Jonas’s right eye.
“Did the guy say anything to you before he went into a coma?”
“We induced the coma, Mr. Mackreides, and no, the brain trauma was too severe. But I know the patient; he’s a local dive master.”
Jonas shut his eyes against the purple spots remaining from the exam. “Doc, any idea why a dive master would violate an ordinance and risk his life to enter the water with Bela and Lizzy in the area?”
“Oldest reason in the book—money. Lucas Heitman spent a lot of time with a local Russian mobster by the name of Alexi Lundgard. Alexi’s girlfriend was the woman aboard the charter boat your monsters sank. I’m guessing Lucas was retrieving something Alexi had stashed in the shallows. The water’s not very deep coming out of the strait; Lucas probably didn’t think the Megs would venture that close to shore.”
Dr. Ford marked something on Jonas’s chart. “You have a grade-2 concussion. I’m discharging you, but take it easy for a few days. If you were intending to fly home, I’d wait at least until Monday. That should give you plenty of time to game plan.”
“Game plan?”
“Your two sharks have killed three people in the last week while shutting down the tourist trade. What are you two schmucks intending to do about it?”
Jonas looked to Mac, who shrugged. “I dunno, doc. The induced coma sounds nice. What do you think, J.T.?”
Before he could respond, Terry entered the room.
Mac took one look at her expression and rose from his chair to leave. “Terry, so good to see you. Dr. Ford, wait up—I have an ingrown toenail I’d like you to look at.”
“Mac—sit.” She turned to the physician. “Can you arrange transportation to our hotel without those reporters following us?”
“I suppose we can smuggle the three of you out in an ambulance. Just give the nurse about thirty minutes to process your husband’s discharge papers.”
“Thank you.” Terry waited until he left. “Mac, you have a wife and a newborn son at home. Haven’t you had enough of this cowboy stuff? And you”—she turned to her husband—“where is our son?”
“Last I heard, he and Monty were en route to the Sea of Japan to rendezvous with one of the Crown Prince’s supertankers—not the one that’s after the Lio. Kenney Sills is in charge of the submersible crews; he promised to keep David under control.”
“Kenney Sills? Why does that name sound familiar?”
“He was one of our original Manta test pilots. You remember … the Navy SEAL?”
“I remember a former Navy SEAL who used to get shitfaced drunk every Friday night with Mac. Would that be the responsible adult you’ve entrusted with my son’s life?”
“Maybe I should wait outside.” Mac headed for the door.
Terry took the vacated chair. “You’re a good man, Jonas … a good father. I’ve tried to be a supportive wife; but I can’t take this anymore. The stress plays havoc with my Parkinson’s, and I have no interest in giving your eulogy. My terms are simple; either you come home and let the Coast Guard handle Bela and Lizzy or I’m leaving you.”
Taiji, Japan
The town of Taiji is located on Honshu, Japan’s largest and most populated island. Thirty-five hundred residents occupy this small coastal village, where fishermen trace their ancestral roots back to the whaling trade.
Enter Taiji today and one would get the impression that the locals have evolved into cetacean lovers. A life-size statue of a humpback whale and her calf greets visitors against the backdrop of Kumana-nadu Sea. There is a whaling museum
“What was that … about a century ago?” Mac entered the room, limping noticeably.
“Mac, they told me you were okay.”
“I jammed my left knee when we landed. Probably tore the meniscus. At least I was strapped in. Hey, doc, were you the one who treated the diver?”
“Yes.” Dr. Ford shifted the scope to Jonas’s right eye.
“Did the guy say anything to you before he went into a coma?”
“We induced the coma, Mr. Mackreides, and no, the brain trauma was too severe. But I know the patient; he’s a local dive master.”
Jonas shut his eyes against the purple spots remaining from the exam. “Doc, any idea why a dive master would violate an ordinance and risk his life to enter the water with Bela and Lizzy in the area?”
“Oldest reason in the book—money. Lucas Heitman spent a lot of time with a local Russian mobster by the name of Alexi Lundgard. Alexi’s girlfriend was the woman aboard the charter boat your monsters sank. I’m guessing Lucas was retrieving something Alexi had stashed in the shallows. The water’s not very deep coming out of the strait; Lucas probably didn’t think the Megs would venture that close to shore.”
Dr. Ford marked something on Jonas’s chart. “You have a grade-2 concussion. I’m discharging you, but take it easy for a few days. If you were intending to fly home, I’d wait at least until Monday. That should give you plenty of time to game plan.”
“Game plan?”
“Your two sharks have killed three people in the last week while shutting down the tourist trade. What are you two schmucks intending to do about it?”
Jonas looked to Mac, who shrugged. “I dunno, doc. The induced coma sounds nice. What do you think, J.T.?”
Before he could respond, Terry entered the room.
Mac took one look at her expression and rose from his chair to leave. “Terry, so good to see you. Dr. Ford, wait up—I have an ingrown toenail I’d like you to look at.”
“Mac—sit.” She turned to the physician. “Can you arrange transportation to our hotel without those reporters following us?”
“I suppose we can smuggle the three of you out in an ambulance. Just give the nurse about thirty minutes to process your husband’s discharge papers.”
“Thank you.” Terry waited until he left. “Mac, you have a wife and a newborn son at home. Haven’t you had enough of this cowboy stuff? And you”—she turned to her husband—“where is our son?”
“Last I heard, he and Monty were en route to the Sea of Japan to rendezvous with one of the Crown Prince’s supertankers—not the one that’s after the Lio. Kenney Sills is in charge of the submersible crews; he promised to keep David under control.”
“Kenney Sills? Why does that name sound familiar?”
“He was one of our original Manta test pilots. You remember … the Navy SEAL?”
“I remember a former Navy SEAL who used to get shitfaced drunk every Friday night with Mac. Would that be the responsible adult you’ve entrusted with my son’s life?”
“Maybe I should wait outside.” Mac headed for the door.
Terry took the vacated chair. “You’re a good man, Jonas … a good father. I’ve tried to be a supportive wife; but I can’t take this anymore. The stress plays havoc with my Parkinson’s, and I have no interest in giving your eulogy. My terms are simple; either you come home and let the Coast Guard handle Bela and Lizzy or I’m leaving you.”
Taiji, Japan
The town of Taiji is located on Honshu, Japan’s largest and most populated island. Thirty-five hundred residents occupy this small coastal village, where fishermen trace their ancestral roots back to the whaling trade.
Enter Taiji today and one would get the impression that the locals have evolved into cetacean lovers. A life-size statue of a humpback whale and her calf greets visitors against the backdrop of Kumana-nadu Sea. There is a whaling museum
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