Chapter 35
"Idon't know what you're talking about," Shane replied.
"Let's stop playing games,” I shouted through the door. “Someone hired you to kill the investigating officers. I want to know who.”
Mason and Shane were meathead enforcers. Nothing more.
"I don't know what you're talking about.”
"Keep going down the path you're going, you’re gonna end up just like your friend. Is that worth it?”
"Man, you’re way off base.”
"Want to tell me where you were last night?”
"I don't have to tell you shit. Get off my property.”
I wedged a card into the weatherstripping. "I'm pretty sure you already know where I live, but I will leave you my phone number in case you want to talk.” Then I added, "Oh, and by the way, it really pisses me off when people try to kill me. Try it again, you’ll end up like your friend.”
I backed away from the door and plunged down the steps to the sidewalk. I whistled for JD, and he joined me.
"He's our guy," I said.
"Was there ever any doubt?”
“I think his cage is sufficiently rattled.”
We walked back to the Porsche, hopped in, and left the complex. We had nothing on this guy, and that was burning me up.
I figured whoever he was working for wouldn't let up. There would be another assassination attempt. JD and I needed to keep our wits about ourselves. If Shane couldn’t get the job done, I'm sure his employer would find somebody else.
They were poking the bear, and they were going to get the claws, sooner or later.
Isabella called. “Alright, you want the good news or the bad news?”
“Bad news first.”
“I couldn’t get into the Aqus network. They are using some high-level security. It’s going to take time.”
“What’s the good news? Don’t tell me there isn’t any.”
“In theory, your modified shark has a neural implant and a satellite tracking tag that relays data back to Aqus. I’m sure they have real-time data, as long as the shark is near the surface or near a buoy.
That data is encrypted, but it’s being sent over a commercial satellite network, and like anything else, they have to pay Celestial Services for the privilege. ”
I liked where this was going. “Please tell me you hacked the satellite provider’s data stream.”
“You catch on quick. Each tag has a unique ID number—a 15-digit IMEI number. I cross-referenced the known wildlife tags and found six Cerulean Industries tags on the Celestial network that are unlisted and fall into unallocated or defense-reserved IMEI blocks.”
I groaned. “So this is a covert op.”
“Maybe. Could be an unsanctioned, off-the-books program.”
“That’s just great.”
“Right now, I’ve got real-time data on the shark. At least, I think it’s a shark. It’s moving faster and deeper than a great white.”
“Where is it?”
She gave me coordinates. “What’s your plan?”
“I’m going to go take a look and get visual confirmation,” I said.
“Then what?”
“I don’t know.”
“Be careful, Tyson. This isn’t your usual adversary.”
I told her I'd be in touch when we got out on the water. "I'm not going to do anything stupid," I said before ending the call.
We headed back to the Avventura.
Ariel was still aboard the boat. She sunned herself on the sky deck, au naturel. I wasn't expecting to find her when we strolled up to the sky deck, and I don't think she was expecting us. She covered her lady bits quickly with her hands.
JD and I did our best to avert our eyes, but the magnetic pull was strong. Tanned skin, flat stomach, buoyant assets. It was enough to give you heart palpitations.
"Sorry, I didn't think you'd still be here," I said.
"I didn't think you'd be back so soon.” Then she added, "I didn't have a swimsuit, and I figured who’d know?"
"We'll give you some privacy," I said.
JD and I took the steps down to the main deck and huddled in the salon. We both exchanged a look.
Jack said, "She can stay on the boat as long as she likes."
I didn’t disagree.
Ariel joined us in the salon a moment later, a fluffy beach towel wrapped around her torso. She hung her head and covered her eyes with her hand. "I'm so embarrassed. Sorry."
"Don't be sorry," Jack said.
"I'll just get dressed and get out of your hair.”
I kind of liked having her around.
"No rush," I said.
"You boys look like you're up to something.”
"I think we found the shark," I said. "We're going to check it out."
Ariel lifted an intrigued brow. "How did you find it?”
"Long story. Tracking tags."
Concern filled her eyes. "What are you going to do?"
"Observe and get visual confirmation."
"That's it?”
"For now. We need to know exactly what we’re dealing with. Once we have confirmation, then we can continue to track it while we figure out how to handle the situation. I think the best course of action would be to capture the shark and transfer it to a secure location.”
"I want to go.”
I laughed. "You’re not supposed to do anything strenuous, operate heavy machinery, or do anything that could cause additional trauma. Scuba diving is off the list.”
"You're not the boss of me. I feel fine. And Dr. Parker said nothing about scuba diving.”
"I think it goes without saying. A reasonable person would scratch that off the list after a concussive event.”
“I’m going with you.”
“Absolutely not. Navy guidelines suggest a seven-day symptom-free minimum before a return to diving after a concussive event. Fourteen to 30 days is recommended.”
She scoffed. “I’m not in the Navy. And I’m not staying out of the water for a month.”
“Your symptoms could return. You could get a headache, nausea, vomiting, dizziness, or brain fog. Not things you want to experience underwater. You could have difficulty equalizing the pressure. You could experience an increased risk of decompression sickness even on a no-decompression dive. Your seizure threshold is lower. What are you going to do if you blackout underwater?”
“You’ll be there to rescue me.”
I groaned.
“You’re going to need my boat,” she said.
“We’ve got a boat.”
“Yeah, but do you have a shark cage? Or do you just want to get in the water without one?”