Chapter 60
“Dan Carney,” a man in a suit said when he joined us on the deck of the sheriff’s patrol boat.
“Office of the Sec. Def.—Special Capabilities. Working the JSOC and SOG, along with Homeland. I’m officially reading you into the project.
You are hereby ordered to stand down. Due to the classified nature of the project, you are to surrender all evidence and logs and delete or destroy any official reports pertaining to the project.
You are all under a non-disclosure order. This incident did not happen.”
I chuckled. “Tell that to the news crews and the congressional oversight committee.”
“The media exposure will be contained and redirected. We believe Weaver was working with direct support from Chinese Intelligence. The shark will be taken to a classified location and studied. Your country thanks you for your patriotism and your service.”
After the paperwork was signed, Carney transferred to a RHIB boat and vanished.
The last time JD and I had violated a gag order, we paid the price. This time, the cat was already out of the bag, and I was inclined to just keep my mouth shut.
With the help of the hoist and quite a bit of finagling, we got the Raptor righted and towed it back to the station. Our part was over. It was a solemn ride back as Ariel mourned the loss of her friend.
Paris and her crew waited for us on the dock, along with dozens of other reporters. Cameras closed in, and questions flew.
“Where will the shark be taken?”
“Who has custody of the shark?”
“Is this the same shark responsible for multiple deaths?”
I declined to answer.
More feds were on site to oversee the hand-off and destruction of any evidence we had acquired. It was hard to let go of the case, but the threat had been contained. The island was safe, for the moment.
Afterward, we returned to the Avventura and tried to unwind. An adult beverage or two was enjoyed.
We chilled out for a few days, recovering from the adventure. I didn’t mind spending time with Ariel. It was a good way to recharge my battery. But we got in plenty of cardio.
Allison Monahan’s conscience got to her. Maybe it was paranoia. In exchange for immunity, she gave the names of several vandals responsible for burning the fishing boats. Arrests were made, and coconspirators flipped.
With all the media attention, Ariel got an offer to star in a documentary chasing great whites off the coast of Australia.
It was too good an opportunity to pass up.
I was sad to see her go, but we promised to keep in touch.
I took her to the airport to send her off.
With a tearful hug and a kiss, she was off to a new adventure.
The sheriff buzzed my phone as I walked back to the car. “You’re not going to believe this. Or maybe you will. Marshalls were taking Mark Weaver to a federal detention center when the vehicle was ambushed by armed gunmen. Weaver escaped.”
“Something’s fishy.”
“You’re telling me. He disappeared.”
“You might be right.”
“Oh, I know I’m right.” Daniels sighed.
It was a few days later when he turned up dead on a beach. The critters of the sea had taken a few good nibbles, and it looked like an apex predator had gotten in on the action.
Marguerite had been involved in a fatal car accident. Somebody was cleaning house. There would be no testimony before Congress. It would fade from the news cycle.
Nova Serrano was still at large. I figured she had fled the state. It was up to the Marshalls to find her.
“You ready to get back to work?” Daniels said to me when he called the next day. “We’ve got another situation.”