The Shark Whisperer (19 page)

“The yacht's just coming into view, all looks quiet.”

“Great, but I repeat. We've got confirmation. Head back. Over.”

“Roger that. Confirmation confirmed. We're heading home. Sea ray one out.”

Mr. M got up and handed Tristan a towel from a nearby shelf. “Here, looks like you could use this.”

“Thanks.”

“Well, once again you three have been very helpful,” Director Davis said. “Now go get some sleep and we'll talk in the morning.”

“What?” Tristan nearly shouted. “We can't just leave Jade and the others on that boat. We've got to do something.”

“Yeah,” Sam said.

“Yeah,” Hugh said a little less enthusiastically.

“
We will
do something, believe me. Don't worry.
You've been a big help tonight. But this is where your involvement ends. Go get some sleep and everything will be fine tomorrow.”

“But we can help,” Tristan said. “I know we're new at this and all, but I'm pretty fast in the water. Sam can echolocate and Hugh can communicate with octopuses and has camouflage skills.”

“Absolutely not! We will handle it. Go back to the dorm and stay there.”

Tristan and Sam started to speak.

“No arguments. Go
now
.”

The three teens left, heads hanging.

As they walked back to the dorm, Tristan said, “We've got to do something, I know we can help. Didn't Ms. Sanchez say something about our skills only lasting a few years? I wonder if they can even do what we can?”

“I don't know. Ms. Sanchez can still communicate with animals. Remember in the Rehab Center?” Hugh said.

“Yeah, Hugh is right,” Sam added.

“But still, I'm sure we could help.”

They made their way back to the dorm. Ryder and Rosina were waiting up for them.

“Where have you been?” Rosina asked in her usual, not-so-nice tone.

Tristan looked at Sam and Hugh, shrugged and then told the other two the whole story—from when they heard about the shark finning on the dock before their first session in the lagoon to what had just happened in the lab office.

“No way,” Ryder said. “Like, I
knew
something fishy was going on.”

“No you didn't. You're just saying that now,” Rosina sneered.

“Look who's talking, what's your ocean skill anyway?” Ryder said.

“I don't know,” Rosina mumbled as she sat down on one of the bunks.

“Hey, I'm sure you've got a really cool skill,” Tristan said to Rosina who looked up with surprise. “But that doesn't matter right now, we need to help Jade and the others.”

“Yeah, but you heard what the director said. They don't want our help,” Hugh said.

“No way am I going to just sit here, let alone sleep. Let's sneak over there and at least watch what's going on. Maybe we can find a way to help,” Tristan suggested.

They all agreed and crept as quietly as possible back to the marine lab's office and dock area.

13

ONE BIG BIRD

F
AINT LIGHT SPILLED FROM THE OFFICE WINDOWS
. Tristan tiptoed up to one and looked in. The room was empty, but he could see a doorway leading to a brightly lit area where several people were talking. Tristan put his finger to his lips, waved the other teens forward, and crept extra carefully along the building. He discovered a sandy path that went around it to the right. He followed the path to stairs leading up to a wooden patio. Tristan popped his head up. Through a screen door he could see into the living room of a small cottage connected to the lab office. Mr. M, Director Davis, Coach Fred, and Ms. Sanchez were seated around a coffee table with a large chart laid out in front of them.

Tristan crouched down to stay hidden in the shadows.
He moved silently around the side of the porch to better hear what was being said. The other teens followed, staying low and tiptoeing quietly. It was difficult because Rosina and Ryder kept jostling for a better position.

“We know they're onboard. Now we've got to get them out of there,” Director Davis urged.

“I could call my contacts on Andros,” Coach Fred suggested. “They've got all the equipment and men we'd need to storm the ship. Might be a few casualties, but it would be over quickly.”

“Uh, I'm not sure that's the best approach,” Director Davis responded. He paused, rubbing a scar on his forearm worriedly. “We can assume they've got radar on the yacht. Coach, how close can we get in a boat?”

“Not very,” he answered. “I was worried about that earlier. If they're checking, they'll see us plain as day. If only we still had some of our campers' skills, like when we were their age.”

“But we don't,” Ms. Sanchez noted. “I might be able to get some of the local marine life to help, but my skills in the field aren't what they used to be. And if we can get Jade and the others off the ship, what's to prevent this Rickerton guy from coming after them, or
us
for that matter?”

“Oh, I can take care of that,” Coach Fred said. “I brought along a little something that will keep them more than occupied after we get the campers off.”

Mr. M pointed to the chart. “The ship is anchored in an embayment on the leeward side of Glover's Cay.
It's about a thirty-minute boat ride from here. Just south on this narrow island—Stanley's Neck—there's a good-size cave. Radar wouldn't pick you up in there.”

Tristan crept closer to the cottage, trying to get a look at the chart. The other Seasquirts moved forward as well. Their movement was slight, but just enough to startle a great blue heron that was stalking prey in the nearby mangroves. It squawked as loud as a foghorn on a still day, flapped its long wings, and launched into the air. Startled, the teens shrieked, jumped up, and then tumbled one over the other into a pile of tangled limbs and bodies. The next thing Tristan saw was a scowling Director Davis standing over them.

“I should have figured you three wouldn't take no for an answer,” he said. “Now it's the whole lot of you.”

“Want me to take care of them?” Coach Fred asked firmly, hands on his hips. He was staring at them like he'd be happy to chain the group to a concrete block and dump them into the Tongue of the Ocean.

“Hey, we just want to help,” Tristan said. “We know about the ship, sharks being killed, and Jade and the others. There must be a way we can help—
we've got skills
.”

Coach Fred glared at Tristan.

“I mean we really want to help, we've got swimming and communication skills. C'mon let us help.”

Director Davis shook his head. “No way.”

Everyone was silent for an uncomfortably long time until Ms. Sanchez said, “Ah, Mike. Maybe they could help. I mean if you don't want to bring in anyone from
the outside that is. They could just assist with the communications and stay safely out of the way.”

“That would be helpful,” Mr. M added.

“We'd be right there,” Coach Fred said now looking directly at Tristan like he'd put him on a leash the length of a toothpick.

“They're being tracked by the monitoring devices. Folks in Washington will know if we divert from the schedule I sent.”

Hugh raised his hand. “Uh sir. Couldn't you just alter the range of the devices so that they move, but stay within boundaries near this island? Or even preprogram where they went or appeared to go? We wouldn't have to take them off or anything, just alter the controlling software a little.”

Everyone turned to stare at Hugh.

“Well, I'm not sure. I'd have to check with Flash to see if that would work,” Director Davis said, clearly surprised by Hugh's somewhat devious and intriguing suggestion.

“I might be able to help, sir. I'm pretty good with that sort of thing,” Hugh added.

“C'mon Director Davis, let us help,” Sam said. “We'll stay out of trouble.”

“Yeah, let us help,” Ryder, Tristan, Hugh, and even Rosina urged.

After ten more minutes of pleading by the teens, some support from Ms. Sanchez, and assurance from Coach Fred that he'd have no problems keeping them in line, Director Davis relented. Then they all went
inside and huddled around the chart to come up with a plan.

It was a few hours before sunrise. Coach Fred stood on the dock in the dim early morning light. In the distance, two swimmers hovered over a patch reef. Ms. Sanchez and Hugh took turns diving down to communicate with animals living among the corals of the small reef. Nearby, Tristan was swimming with his new Bahamian shark pals. He wasn't completely comfortable because little bro' still seemed to be eyeing Tristan's toes like tasty wieners. Sam was also close by, swimming with a pilot whale and a dolphin. Before getting into the water, they had all tried to nap in Mr. M's cottage, but the excitement of the moment was too much. No one had slept a wink. Hugh had also spent about an hour on the phone with Flash reprogramming the display of their tracking bracelets.

Rosina and Ryder joined Coach on the dock.

“Director Davis says he's, like, ready when you are,” Ryder reported.

A large pelican then swooped in over their heads and landed near Rosina.

“Well, will you look at that,” Coach Fred said smiling.

The pelican waddled over to Rosina and poked her leg.

“Hey, what the . . .” Rosina snarled, then a little more nicely said, “Oh it's you, Henry.”

Six more pelicans flew by. They glided low across the water in single file, their wings stretched out wide. After circling once around, the large birds landed in the nearby mangroves where two beautiful ospreys soon joined them. The ospreys were white with brown wings and a matching stripe across their eyes, making them look like the masked defenders of the sky. The ospreys perched proudly in the mangrove's branches with their pale chests puffed out and beaks held high. Two little blue herons were the next to arrive, landing on the dock. They were small, sleek birds, dark gray from head to tail, each with a long, sharp, black beak. Next came five enormous turkey vultures: intimidating and odd-looking creatures. They were covered with scruffy black-brown feathers up to their necks, which were ringed with finer, blacker feathers, almost like the upturned collar of a cape. Their heads were strangely gray, bald, and old-man-wrinkly. Standing sort of hunched over, the turkey vultures resembled the evil villains of the bird world. The last to arrive were the seagulls. Nearly fifty joined the other birds perched nearby.