Dark Waters Read online

  Like now. “Lost one of my drones out there. Need a new one before we go back out.”

  She sighs. “I’ll get one on order.”

  “Good. Maybe order two. Four might be better.” He manages a faint smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not flaking out on you.”

  A slight line forms between her green eyes. Something he finds absolutely adorable. She shakes her head. “I don’t think that at all, but maybe you were a little distracted today? When does your brother get back?”

  He snorts. “I wasn’t thinking about him. I know he’s fine.”

  “Then what were you thinking about out there, other than protecting the clients?”

  He looks away. “Nothing, really.”

  “You’re a piss-poor liar, you know that?”

  Miles shrugs, turns and hops onto the dock, offering her his hand. “Doesn’t matter what I was thinking about. The day is done. C’mon, Boss.”

  Emma rolls her eyes but takes his hand and he helps her onto the dock. For a moment they are so close their lips nearly touch. Miles feels the very heat of them and yearns for a taste. But he backs away before he makes that mistake. He’s been down the relationship rabbit hole more than once, and each one ended badly.

  He smiles, steps back and says, “I’ll get the cart.”

  Before she can say anything, he hurries down the dock to retrieve the motorized cart made for hauling the gear. Best not to delve too deeply into anything. Besides, she has never showed him anything that proves she feels the same way. He’d be a fool to even try, really.

  He hops into the cart, drives to where Emma stands by the gear on the dock, and loads up. Then, with her riding shotgun, he drives them to the office, leaving those seagull bastards in the dust.

  At the office, which is little more than a large shed, Miles replaces a couple of oxygen tanks and recharges the rest.

  There was a time when he’d probably have to send the tanks elsewhere to be recharged, but these days Emma made sure they were up on the latest tech. Well, next to the latest anyway.

  He still wants his motion-tracking drones, but…heh, what can he do? He’s not the boss.

  Once all the gear is charging and put away, he walks down the short hall to the main office…and stops a few feet from the door. A frown creases his face. There are two other voices coming from Emma’s office. Both male, judging by the deepness of them. And both seem to have the same monotone of Government officials. He can’t make out what they’re saying, but for as much as they’re talking it must be of some importance. Then, all at once, they stop talking.

  The door opens and Emma rushes out. She spots him standing there, skids to a halt and places a hand over her chest. “Jesus, Miles. Don’t sneak up like that!”

  “I…” Miles glances at the open doorway. “What’s going on?”

  Emma sighs, shakes her head and says, “I was just coming to get you. They’re here for you.”

  Miles doesn’t move, staring at the doorway. “Who’s here for me?”

  “Just get in the office. It’s important.”

  Miles’ hand falls to the butt of the pistol on his hip. One can never be too wary around the Government these days. But he follows Emma into the office nonetheless.

  Emma’s office always has an odd hint of vanilla and he could never figure out if she has some kind of air-freshener or it’s her perfume. And as usual, the office is warm. Almost to the point of being uncomfortable.

  Seated in front of Emma’s messy desk are two men dressed in identical blue jeans and black sweaters. One was black like Miles, the other a big blond dude with icy blue eyes Miles didn’t like at all.

  He nods at the men, hand still resting on the butt of his pistol.

  “Miles Raine?” The black official asks.

  Miles nods again.

  Both men stand and face him.

  Here we go, Miles thinks and flicks the holding strap off his pistol.

  But the men don’t reach for weapons. Instead, the blond one steps forward, face very solemn. “We want to extend our greatest sympathies, Mr. Raine.”

  Miles frowns. “What? What the hell are you talking about?” He glances at Emma, but her head is lowered. She’s crying. Tears drip from the tip of her nose to the desk.

  The black official sighs, pats the blond guy’s broad shoulder and says, “You are the brother of Michael Raine, correct?”

  Miles glances from him to the blond man, and back again. “What the fuck is going on?”

  “I’m Agent Rogers,” the black man says. “And we’re here to tell you that the battleship, USS Cutter has been destroyed. No survivors have been found.” His eyes shift away from Miles and he sighs once more.

  “I—wait, what? You’re telling me Mike is—”

  “We don’t know for sure, but it is likely,” the blond man says.

  Heart crashing against the walls of his chest, Miles staggers away from them. He shakes his head, eyes swimming in tears. “No. No, he was supposed to come back tonight. We were going to have a couple beers.”

  “I am so sorry, Mr. Raine,” Rogers says.

  “You have my condolences,” the blond man says.

  “So, it’s like that, huh?” Miles shoots a glare at both of them. “You’re gonna just assume he’s dead?”

  “The damage,” the blond man says, “was quite extensive. Whatever was left of the USS Cutter is now at the bottom of the North Pacific.”

  Miles blinks. “H-how’d it happen? Sub attack?”

  Both men glance at each other. Then Rogers says, “We’re not one hundred percent certain yet.”

  “The hell does that even mean?”

  “I’m Agent Dent, by the way,” the blond man says. “And it means we’re still investigating the situation.”

  Miles angrily swipes tears from his cheeks. “Well, Agent Dent, that doesn’t help one fucking bit, does it?”

  Dent nods and steps back a bit.

  Rogers says, “Admiral Wade requests your presence, Mr. Raine.”

  Miles snorts, still wiping away tears. “Well, you can go tell him to fuck off.”

  Rogers steps closer, face firm. “It is not a request.”

  “I really don’t give a shit what it is,” Miles says. “I’m out of the military. Been out for three years now.”

  “That doesn’t matter to Admiral Wade,” Rogers says. “But we may have reason to believe your brother and a few others might still be alive.”

  Miles looks from Rogers to Dent and back again. “What?”

  “Come with us,” Dent says, “and Admiral Wade will fill you in.”

  “We’re not at liberty to divulge such sensitive information.”

  “Mike might still be alive?”

  Only Rogers nods the slightest bit. Barely.

  From her desk, Emma says, “I need a vacation anyway. Go see what this Admiral Wade wants, Miles.”

  He blinks at her, sighs, and returns his attention to the agents. “Alright. Let’s go.”

  CHAPTER 3

  No one speaks the entire ride to Fort Everdeen, the nearest Naval base not far from the coast. The one, Miles knows, where Admiral Wade rules.

  He’d met Wade a couple of times. Once during a briefing while Miles was still a Seal, the other when Miles retired. Both times, Admiral Wade gave Miles a slight chill.

  The man just has a cold look about him, practically seethes ice. From the cool, blue eyes to the expressionless, pale face. Admiral Wade is the greatest for a reason. And Miles feels it’s because the man simply has no compassion. That, and he’s highly intelligent.

  Before Miles’ final mission with the Seals, Wade somehow predicted the enemy’s movement. And despite the advisors’ recommendations, he changed the mission into one of seek and destroy, instead of a covert seize and rescue. According to Admiral Wade, the enemy would be located on a small island near what used to be Hawaii. They would be concentrated on the north side of the island, ready to retaliate with heavy artillery and sub-nuclear bombs. The adviso
rs said it would be wise to come in from the south, and while the enemy was distracted, Miles and his team, Dagger Point, would sneak in, grab the intel and bugout before the bastards even knew they were there.

  Wade, however, he challenged the advisors’ plan, claiming it was foolhardy and weak. No, they would enter from the western side of the island, come in hot and mow the enemy down, which was estimated to be about sixty men. Dagger Point, God knows, has taken out more than that before. Wade’s mission was to go in, take out the enemy, retrieve the intel and return home. He claimed if they came in from the south, the enemy would be watching.

  Lo and behold, he was right. When Miles and the Dagger Points landed on the western side of the island, as they snuck close to the encampment, they noted sentries monitoring the south.

  Remembering this now, as the car passes by the gate of Fort Everdeen, Miles smiles. Wade might be a cold bastard, but he’s also a smart one.

  The car parks in front of the Admiral’s Office and Miles gets out. He waits for Agents Jones and Dent and they lead him to the doors. The heat of the day is noxious and he just thanks whatever gods are up there that he’s not in the dryer regions where the sand is like grains of toxic waste. Sharp, it will cut the skin and infect you. Plus…there’s some nasty creatures out there. Some kind of hybrids the military had been working on at one time and abandoned, then all the radiation resulted in further mutations.

  Dent places his wrist against a black plate set into the doors. A small beep sounds, and the doors swoosh open. Dent steps aside and gestures for Miles to step inside. He does, though not caring for the two agents trailing him. He likes people he doesn’t trust within sight. Still, he figures they don’t want to harm him, otherwise they would have already.

  “Second door on the right,” Jones says behind him.

  Miles sighs, stops at the second door on the right, and glances at the agents. Both nod for him to go in. He opens the door and steps into Admiral Wade’s office.

  He expected to find the old Admiral seated behind a massive oak desk, leering at him with those cool blue eyes. Instead, the office is crammed full of people and Admiral Wade is staring out his only window, hands clasped behind him.

  Miles quickly deduces who the extra people in the office are. Four scientists, a Master Chief standing tall and blank and leaning against the wall on the right, and two more people he can’t place. Definitely not military, judging by their civilian clothes and wide wandering eyes. God, Miles thinks, they look like tourists.

  Before he can even announce his presence, Admiral Wade says, “Master Chief Raines. We’ve been waiting for you.”

  “Just Miles,” he says. “I’m retired, remember?”

  The other Master Chief grunts, as though Miles said something slightly funny.

  Miles shoots him a glare, rolls his eyes and fixes his attention on Wade, as the older man turns to face him.

  “You’re never fully retired from the Navy, son.” A grin flickers over Wade’s heavily lined face. “Just dormant.”

  Miles nods. “Whatever, Admiral. I’m here because there might be a chance my brother, Michael Raines, might still be alive.”

  “You’re addressing a superior officer, Master Chief,” the other Master Chief booms.

  Miles slips the idiot another glare. “I suggest you get your ears cleaned. I’m retired. And I really don’t care what the Admiral says about it. I am done with the Navy and trying to live my life.”

  Admiral Wade chuckles. “Son, let’s not get into a pissing contest. Master Chief Bennet is on our side and will be assisting you. So, I suggest you two learn to get along.”

  Those cool blue eyes rest on Miles and it takes all his strength not to look away.

  Finally, Wade claps his hands together sharply and says, “Okay. Thank you all for coming. You each had your own private briefing, well, except for Raines.” He points at the four scientists. “Play the audio for Master Chief Raines.”

  Miles frowns. “Audio?”

  “From Captain Duncan of the USS Cutter,” one of the scientists says. A small woman wearing thick glasses, dark hair tied into a tight bun. She taps on her tablet a moment and holds it up. “A compilation of logs leading to the Captain’s final entry.”

  For a moment, there’s only static, then…

  “Captain’s Log – July 19th. No one is sure, not even myself, why we keep getting bumped off course. And we are indeed getting bumped. We all feel it and hear it every time it happens. If this continues, I will bring it up to Admiral Wade.”

  Wade says, “I never received anything from Captain Duncan.”

  “Captain’s Log – July 22nd. Our fuel reserves are depleting. I put a call in for a tanker. Whatever keeps bumping us, the extra fuel needed to veer back on course is creating a problem. I just hope the tanker can get to us before we’re entirely out of fuel. I have sent a distress call to the Coast Guard and Admiral Wade.”

  Static. Miles glances at Wade, but the old man only shakes his head and sighs. Not quite meeting Miles’ gaze.

  “Captain’s Log – July 26th. First Mate Raine has spotted something very large under the water while out looking for signs of the tanker. He said a part of it surfaced. Its back, he thinks. But it appears to be circling the ship. We were once more bumped off course, but I fear returning to our original course now will deplete our fuel too much so I am redirecting course. I sent Admiral Wade our new coordinates along with the Coast Guard. I have heard nothing back from either one as of this entry.”

  Miles blinks at Admiral Wade. “How did you get these logs?”

  The old man waves a hand. “All of it came through to me at once. Even the distress calls. Tried contacting Captain Duncan multiple times with no response. Our drones have picked out a large oil slick near her last known coordinates, however.”

  “Captain’s Log – July 30th. It bumped us harder this time. The hull has been breached and we’re taking on water. I have sent out multiple distress calls with no response. We’re alone out here. Why aren’t my calls going through? The crew is trying to patch the breach as best they can but reports from my engineers is…pretty grim. If the breach cannot be patched up, I will have to deploy the escape pods and abandon ship.”

  The scientist lowers the tablet a bit and says, “We did receive a failure to launch ping from USS Cutter’s pod bay.”

  Miles frowns. “So, the pods weren’t deployed?”

  “We believe that a couple of them were. But something got in the way of the others.”

  An icy chill stutters his heart. “Like what?”

  She shakes her head. “We have no idea.” She lifts the tablet up once more.

  “Captain’s Log – August 2nd. The crew is getting restless. They want to fight back at whatever is toying with us. First Mate Raine suggests trying our new anti-sub cannon to eliminate the creature. An idea I need to consider…”

  “Captain’s Log – August 3rd. I am getting us off this ship. The pods travel faster and we might be able to outrun whatever is trying to sink us. The hull is filling up too quickly to wait for rescue.”

  She places the tablet on Wade’s desk. “This was Captain Duncan’s final entry. We received these, along with her distress calls and transmission directly to the Admiral, yesterday. Our drones did capture something about six miles from the oil slick where we believe the USS Cutter sank.” She gestures to the blank wall where Master Chief Bennet leans. He blinks and steps aside as the woman scientist taps something, a small device, in her hand.

  On the wall, an image of the open Pacific Ocean sweeps below a flying drone. Then the motion slows while the drone’s camera zooms in and focuses on something very large slithering in the water, just under the surface.

  Miles steps closer to the wall and the dark, slithering image. His eyes widen. “What…what the hell is that?”

  Someone behind him, maybe one of the scientists, clears their throat. “We’re not certain, but we think it might be—”

  “Jörmungandr,�
�� a heavily accented voice spouts.

  The entire office falls silent around Miles. He turns to find a hunched, older woman with thick silvery hair in tight curls and a heavily wrinkled face staring at him with eyes even cooler and bluer than Admiral Wade’s. She shuffles in front of the four scientists.

  Those icy eyes never leave Miles. “Midgard Serpent, to those who don’t know.”

  He places her accent as Scandinavian, or there abouts. Far north. A place of snow and ice and cold. It’s the only continent left unchanged, as far as Miles knows. And Midgard. He knows that word from somewhere.

  “Thank you, Geri,” Wade says and places a hand on the old woman’s narrow shoulder. She shoots a venomous glare at the man. “Miles, this is Geri Rask. Renowned Scandinavian historian and archeologist. She was the one who found what’s believed to be Thor’s hammer, uh—”

  “Mjölnir,” Geri grumbles and adds, “Idiot.”

  Wade grunts, pats Geri’s shoulder and moves away from her. Her eyes find Miles once more.

  “Thought no one could lift Thor’s hammer?” Master Chief Bennet says from across the room.

  “Mjölnir,” Geri corrects, hard blue eyes shifting away from Miles. “All the gods have fallen. The weapon lost its power the moment Thor fell. Perhaps you should open a book sometime, eh?”

  Miles snorts. Oh, he likes her.

  “How do you know for sure that’s Thor’s hammer?” Bennet steps beside Miles and Miles moves away from the man. “Could be just some old blacksmith’s hammer for all we know.”

  Geri’s gaze darts to Wade. “Can I stab him?”

  Wade chuckles. “No. No you may not.” He addresses everyone. “Boys and girls, since we don’t know exactly what we’re dealing with here, Ms. Rask has been asked to assist in the finer details of mythology.” He glances at Geri and sighs. “I mean ancient history. This serpent might be responsible for USS Cutter’s demise and I want you all to be prepared for—”