Barracuda Page 11
Chuu smiled and seemed relieved.
“Do you have a police force on Shark Alley Island?” Micko wondered.
“No, Mr. Mick, there is no crime, just missing persons. You be careful scuba diving. Very dangerous, very dangerous.”
“I know about the dangers of scuba diving, but what’s this about missing persons?”
“Two shark specialists no come back. Boat sink, they drown. Two brothers sneak out and dive alone on wreck, no come back. Mr. Mick, you stay with dive boat operation. The missing men went out alone.” Chuu hung his head as if in reverence to the missing.
Just then Tanya came out of the wheelhouse, talking into her cell phone. She was looking toward shore, and Chuu furtively slid a few feet away from Micko. Micko was picking up all kinds of body language from both, but damned if he could make heads or tails of it.
Soon the water turned crystal clear and flat as glass. Bikini Island appeared on the horizon about the same time Micko noticed some small fishing boats dotting the atoll. The Bikini resort tender was just leaving the dock to make the trip to Eneu to pick up the Californians.
Tanya was pacing the deck like a wild animal as the tender pulled into the Bikini dock. The boat didn’t take the time to tie up but pulled close to the dock so two large men in suits could hop on board. The tender quickly reversed engines and pulled away from the wharf. Micko was now definitely making observations that he didn’t like.
Tanya and the two men spoke briefly, and it was evident that she was in charge. She spoke, and the men shook their heads. She was wringing her hands like she was distressed, but after her conversation with the men, she seemed at ease. One of the men looked about cautiously, leaned close to Tanya, and spoke discreetly. With a catlike movement, Tanya looked over at Micko and nodded in agreement with the man. The men went into the wheelhouse, and Tanya came over to Micko.
“I hope you didn’t mind our little diversion to Bikini Island,” she said sweetly, leaning over so her breasts were slightly exposed.
“I would have loved to jump off and look around for a few minutes,” he answered.
“Sometimes the Bikinians run out of things and borrow from us, so a couple of our workers dropped stuff off and now they need a ride back.” She slyly placed her hand on his knee as she spoke.
Micko caught the exasperated look of disbelief on Chuu’s face. He knew that something had drastically changed in the last ten minutes. The nervous and standoffish Tanya was now trying to play him like a fiddle by coming on to him. What did the two men tell her that so radically changed her personality? he silently wondered.
The boat steamed across the atoll to the opposite side from Bikini Island. Before long, the Majestic Hotel in all its grandeur came into view. The other passengers began lining up at the gangway, and Micko shot a quick glance at Chuu.
“We get off last, Mr. Mick.”
A bright pink pickup truck was waiting at the dock. Chuu placed the baggage in the rear and then he climbed in behind the wheel.
“You sit here, Mr. Mick.” He pointed to the passenger seat.
“Do you drive all the vehicles?” Micko asked.
“Most of the times, yes.”
“What about Tanya and the others?”
“Hotel employees walk, tourists ride,” Chuu answered.
It was a short ride to the hotel driveway. Micko got a good look at the hotel and its grounds in the meantime. It was a virtual pastel paradise. The hotel itself was fresh and clean looking, and the grounds were covered in lush foliage and plants that were obviously well cared for. The lawns were manicured, and the golf course in the distance appeared to be well cared for as well.
He could see the outdoor pool/bar, where a lively crowd had settled in. The pool was shaped like a three-leafed shamrock, with the bar located at the top of the middle leaf. A couple of men played steel drums to a reggae beat as entertainment.
Chuu parked the pickup and hopped out to get a hotel valet. Soon the luggage was wheeled to the front desk and Micko was signing in. The desk clerk made a quick phone call and Micko saw a short, well-groomed Japanese man approaching. He wore thick glasses and a very expensive suit. The man had grace and a definite aura of authority.
“Detective O’Shaughnessy, welcome to our humble hotel,” he greeted. “I’m Hiroshi Machii, and I’m the director of the Majestic Hotel.” Hiroshi stuck out his hand, and Micko shook it warmly.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Machii.”
“Call me Hiroshi. Let me give you the three-dollar tour,” The man smiled.
The desk clerk gave Micko keys to room 222 and directed the valet to bring the luggage there while Hiroshi played tour guide. He was obviously very proud of the pagan opulence of his resort as he pointed out various objects of beauty. The hotel lobby was exquisite in red velour with a polished marble floor. To the left of the main desk was a hall leading to the Neptune Lounge, a fancy bar that had a wonderful aquatic setting complete with a huge aquarium loaded with exotic fish. The decor was resplendent with dark leather chairs and couches. The main restaurant, the Marina Del Ray, was located adjacent to the lounge. It was decorated with high ceilings and Roman columns adorning the entrance. Huge planters of flowers were strategically placed, and the brightly painted walls were a lively mural of island life.
The casino was a curious miniature reproduction of the Atlantis Casino in the Bahamas. It was obvious that a great deal of money was spent on this favorable recreation. A large crowd of people were even now playing a variety of machines in anticipation of beating the odds.
It appeared Majestic and was a massive, regal palace that could cater to almost every vice. The disco rivaled any New York club, rocking seven nights a week. After the grand opening, Hiroshi told him, the disco would import some top name acts as an added attraction. The semi-pro golf course also attracted a diverse crowd. This resort was not just for divers.
“So how do you like my hotel?” Hiroshi finally asked.
“It’s much more than I expected,” Micko admitted.
“Wait until the fireworks display at the grand opening. I have rented a barge that will come from Eneu, and it will be moored in the lagoon. The fireworks will umbrella the entire Shark Alley Island,” Hiroshi bragged. “Even the tourists on Bikini Island will see the exhibition from across the atoll, and they will be jealous that they were not staying here at the Majestic.”
“I’m sure it’ll be a sight to behold,” Micko answered, marveling at the depth of the rivalry between the two resorts. “I can’t wait.”
Micko and Hiroshi said their goodbyes, and Micko went up to his room. He was astonished at how extravagant it was. There was a small hallway with closets and a bathroom that then led into a lavish sitting room with a huge TV set, a stereo, a wet bar with four stools, a large velvet sectional couch, and two matching recliners. This room alone was larger than any hotel room he had ever been in. Off to the right were another bathroom and the master bedroom. The bedroom was also massive with oversized furniture and a king-sized bed. Wall-to-wall mirrors adorned the bedroom, and the floor was covered in a thick shag of cream-colored carpet.
“I think I’m going to like this place,” Micko thought aloud.
He quickly but meticulously unpacked his clothes then took a quick tour of his room and found a door leading to a veranda. The terrace looked out over the golf course and the atoll with a spectacular view. It was large enough that a glass table and two chairs were set in a corner.
Micko went to the bar, grabbed himself a cold beer, and then sat out on the terrace and relaxed, soaking up the view. He could see the pool bar and a few bikini-clad women in the pool. Without hesitation he finished his beer, put on his swimsuit, and went down to the pool. When he arrived, however, it was empty. He dove into the deep end, swam to the bar, and sat on a stool in the water.
“Did I scare everyone away?” he joked to the barmaid.
“No,” she laughed back. “I had a crowd that just went to dinner. My name is Flacka.”
“Oh, you’re the NYPD detective I heard about.”
Mick shook his head. “Flacka, does everyone know who I am?”
“Yes, they do.” She grinned with those big white teeth of hers.
Micko had several beers, and Flacka played a variety of music on her CD player as the two spoke. Micko liked her. She seemed honest and unpretentious. Soon they were talking music, agreeing that the Righteous Brothers’ blue-eyed soul music was the greatest. Flacka found one of their CDs, and while “Ebb Tide” was playing, Micko asked,
“Flacka, maybe you can help me. I hope I don’t offend you, but I can’t figure a few things out. Why do the locals on Bikini hate the Japanese so much? Is it just the war and the hotel rivalry?”
Flacka was slow to respond. She looked Micko in the eye and simply asked, “Why?”
“I’m a policeman, Flacka,” he replied, “and some unusual things were going on before I even unpacked my bags. I need to trust someone, and I’ve picked you.” Micko knew that bartenders were always good sources of information. “Chuu said I could trust you,” he added. This was his ace in the hole. Since locals drank at her bar, she would be in tune with their complaints.
“Chuu told you to talk to me?” she asked.
“Yes. He wanted to tell me more, but Tanya was always around.”
“Okay, policeman, I will tell you everything, but you must never tell anyone,” she began. “I am from Nicaragua, so I am considered neutral, and everyone talks to me. The Japanese and the Russians are hiding some kind of illegal activity. One of the Russians got drunk here one night and said that he should be paid more with all the money that they launder through the resort business. The locals have a guerilla group that is hell-bent on destroying the Majestic through vandalism. The locals resent the Japanese and the Russians as cheap employers, and because they are trying to run the Bikini resort out of business.
“The atrocities of Word War II don’t help the race relations of Bikinians and Japanese. The vandals have been active, and the damage has been costly, but now several of the rebels have disappeared. The locals believe the Majestic henchmen are responsible. Fishermen tell tales of several nights when two boats went out into the lagoon late at night, but only one returned. The next day, a boat was reported missing—and so were the rebels. Then, a few days ago, two scientists returned a diary to the Russians that they found, and now they are also missing. Also, two brothers hired a local to take them on an illegal dive to one of the wrecks and they never returned. Too many things are happening, and the place has not even had its grand opening. These Japanese and Russians will let nothing stand in their way.”
Micko let Flacka talk—and talk she did. She knew about many of the things that were going on that no one else would discuss. Much of what she said made sense. Now he understood why Russian muscle was so prevalent. The missing saboteurs, scientists, and brothers concerned him. How could people just go missing without a police investigation? he thought. Then Flacka explained that Hiroshi was actually the law on Shark Alley Island, and his bodyguards were the police.
Micko had many questions. “What was in the diary that the scientists found?”
Flacka didn’t know, except that it was important enough to have them go missing. She further stated that a few kids had been crabbing and saw two Russian goons follow the scientists out near the Enidrik pass. The kids thought nothing of it until they saw the two boats return without the scientists. Then they saw the boat the scientists were renting get scuttled and sink at the mooring ball to the Apogon submarine. She further said that Hiroshi dismissed the missing men as drowning in the storm that day. The children saw all this from the shelter of some thick foliage, but they were afraid to come forward, as were most of the natives. Luckily the natives trusted Flacka since she lived in the fishing village with them.
Micko asked Flacka about the two brothers. Flacka stated that they had evil intentions and had hired a local to take them on a dive to the USS Saratoga. The pair had tools to penetrate the wreck so they could remove artifacts and hide bandanas. She couldn’t make any sense out of it all, but Micko knew what was going on from his previous conversation with Rat. Flacka said that the two divers had never surfaced, and the local fisherman was also afraid to report what had happened. She was very surprised that no one else had reported them missing yet.
Flacka was a wealth of information, and Micko gave her a twenty-dollar bill before he went back to his room to digest all that he had learned. He felt that it was a pretty good bet that the Japanese and Russians were involved in a money laundering scheme, and that they were using strong-arm tactics to protect themselves and their investment in the resort. The poor scientists were probably two innocent men who were murdered. The brothers had probably drowned on the Saratoga, and the missing saboteurs had probably also been murdered.
What kind of vacation am I on? Should I get involved, am I ready to take action? he thought.
***
It finished feasting on Bob, carefully picked up the leftover scuba tank and gear, and placed it inside the huge nest. Then It swam stealthily back to Bill, where it didn’t hear any more of the funny bubbly noises. Looking closely at Its shackled prey, It saw that the eyes were bulging and that the mouth was slack-jawed with small cleaner fish entering and exiting.
It swam tentatively toward the new opening that these strange creatures had created. The hole was large enough for It to easily pass through, but It still swam with caution. The interior of the wreck had been the only home It had ever known. Now a new venue had presented itself.
Slowly, It exited, seeing real sea life for the first time. Initially, It swam through schools of fish, killing with the veracity of Attila the Hun, until It was completely satiated. Then It swam up to the bridge section of the Saratoga and hid in the shadows of the fish netting towering over the wreck.
It watched and realized that this all belonged to him. Billions of fish, a huge lagoon, and dozens of reefs and shipwrecks were all his for the taking. It was the top predator.
It hovered above Its domain, watching until the company of gray reef sharks entered his kingdom. The sharks had entered to feed as usual, and It immediately became territorial. In the fish world, size mattered. It knew It was larger than the gray reefers, so It unflinchingly attacked from the cover of the shadows, bending Its long sinewy body into an S shape until the pack of sharks began feeding on schools of fish on the flight deck. Then It launched the assault.
Snapping straight, It rocketed at fifty knots toward the first shark. It didn’t stop to wrestle or fight with his opponent. Instead, It sped past the shark, severing its dorsal fin with razor-sharp teeth. Without a dorsal fin, the shark had no balance. The maimed reefer spiraled to the deck of the Saratoga like a wounded World War II fighter plane. It continued to race through the pack of sharks, severing pectoral fins as well as dorsal fins.
This underwater battle was eerily reminiscent of the USS Saratoga in its finest hours on the surface. It fired away like anti-aircraft fire, and the sharks corkscrewed as if caught in aerial combat. The wounded sharks caused a feeding frenzy among the uninjured, and soon the deck of the Saratoga was once again a hotbed of bloodshed.
It retreated to the shadows of the bridge and watched the combat below as shark attacked shark until the deck was a graveyard covered with reefers. The survivors withdrew to the safety of the passage and the open ocean, not knowing what had caused this deadly chain reaction.
It followed from a discrete distance, learning how the sharks entered and exited Its realm. It would be ready for them next time, and It would not permit them to ever enter again.
***
“More snapper, Professor?”
“No, please, no, James. We’ll be the only men alive who got stranded by a monsoon and put on weight.”
James laughed heartily, knowing that his colleague was right. Their fishing system worked so well that they had more fre
sh fish than they could eat. This, in turn, became crab bait, and soon they had more fresh crabs than they could eat.
“A search party might come at any time, James, so be prepared to light the bonfire on a moment’s notice,” Dr. Collins reminded him.
“You get set to do that while I try something,” James said. “I have a lot of air left in my scuba tank, so I’ll hunt for some clams and mussels, and then make a seafood chowder with the leftover crabs and snapper.”
“Now that sounds enticing.”
***
Micko walked down to the dive shop before he went for dinner, where he met Steve along the way.
“Are you ready for your checkout dive tomorrow?” Steve asked.
“I sure am. What time?” Micko returned.
“Seven a.m. sharp. It’ll just be the two of us since the Lily I is taking a boatload of divers to the U.S. Submarine Apogon. They’ve been diving all week and requested a chance to dive there. I’m a little hesitant to take divers there because there are live torpedoes in the tubes that are rotting away. Anyway, I always take new divers to the Saratoga for the checkout dive. You arrived too late for a checkout dive today, so tomorrow morning we’ll take the Lily II.”
“Why so early?”
“The Bikini resort has a nine a.m. checkout dive scheduled for a boatload of new divers who arrived when you did. One group will dive the bow, and then the Thor will pick up a second group and drop them on the stern.”
“I met them,” Mike noted, “one dive club from California and another one from Australia.”
Steve made a noise of disdain. “I had two asshole brothers here last week, and they went to the Bikini resort to meet their buddies for another two weeks of diving. I’m sure as hell happy that they’re gone.”
Micko looked Steve square in the eye. “I heard that they broke into the Saratoga while doing an unauthorized dive.”
“They better not have! Those bastards!” Steve yelled before quickly quieting his voice. “They wanted to remove a hatchway cover and steal artifacts. I think they also had some stupid scavenger hunt thing going with the guys who came yesterday.”