A Drift in the Deep

Disclaimer: In previous chapters.

A/N: Thanks always to Kasman for the betas and her hard work on getting this scribbling of mine presentable and correcting some of the unforgivable errors. A big thanks again to those who have read and those who have reviewed. Each and every one is greatly appreciated.

xxx0xxx0xxx0xxx

Chapter 7 Master

xxx0xxx0xxx0xxx

Bell Harbor Marina - 2:00 am:

The lights on the jetties were few and weak, creating surreal shadows. Logan sat in his chair behind one of the small sheds at the start of the main jetty, keeping an eye out for Max. "Where are you?" he muttered in annoyance as he looked at his watch. Uncle Jonas's name still carried some weight with the security guard but I better not stay out here too long. He glanced around the corner at the moored Sea Duck and sighed. Reaching into his pocket, Logan pulled out his gun and chambered a round, then looked at the black metal and plastic object he held.

»»»»»»»

Flashback Logan's Penthouse:

"A genetically-engineered killing machine...squeamish about guns."

"Just a rule," Max said

"Okay. If you change your mind..."

"I won't. Gotta say I'm a little surprised. A high-minded, idealistic, lefty humanist like yourself advocating greasing the bad guys?"

"It's a kick-or-be-kicked-in-the-ass world out there."

"Now kicking ass, I got no issues with."

»»»»»»»

Ironic, isn't it. Logan quickly put his gun back into his jacket pocket, and rubbed his hands along his pants legs. He rolled his shoulders, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Well, guess I'm gonna have to do the leg work…wheel work anyway." Releasing his brakes, Logan began to push himself down the jetty towards the gangway he could see at the stern of the Sea Duck.

A shadow suddenly detached itself from behind one of the piles of coiled line on the jetty and stood legs apart, hands clenched into fists resting on hips.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Max asked, using her anger at seeing Logan to cover her surprise and worry that he was putting himself in danger.

Stopping suddenly, he snapped his brakes on with an irritated flick and looked up at her. "Where have you been?"

"Busy, and you haven't answered my question," Max shot back.

"Right…Max, Krane's using…"

"The out of date tanks to smuggle the weapons," Max interrupted finishing Logan's sentence.

Logan pulled back his head and stared up at her, eyebrows raised. "How?" he asked.

Max relaxed and turned to look away from Logan for a moment, "I should've realized it earlier. I noticed the dates on the tanks when I was here earlier…then…" she replied.

Logan nodded, when he realized Max had misunderstood his question and in so doing was apologizing for putting him into a potentially dangerous situation. "I tried calling you after I was finished talking with Matt. I should've guessed sooner that he had to be paying somebody off," Logan said apologetically. Why is she apologizing, why am I?

Max swung her gaze back to Logan, felt in the pocket of her jacket for the pager and came up empty. So you did try and get me. You didn't just rush down here and maybe get yourself hurt. "Guess I lost my pager," she stated with a slight shrug. Better check back at Crash after this.

"There has to be a way they're getting the weapons into the tanks," Logan stated with a distracted nod.

"I'll go see," Max said, striding towards the gangway.

"I'll stay here and keep watch," Logan offered.

Max, half way up the gangway, turned and smiled faintly at Logan. "Sounds like a plan." She quickly ran up the rest of the gangway and disappeared into the gloom of the covered aft deck.

xxx0xxx0xxx0xxxx

Back deck of the Sea Duck

From the security of a darkened corner, Max gazed back at Logan sitting on the dock looking at something in his hand. Would you've dragged yourself up here to check these tanks out? Why do you keep putting yourself out there, Logan? With a shrug and a shake of her head, Max headed along the deck towards the secured tanks in their holders. Well, if I find how they're doing their gun-running it'll save rocking around on a boat for the next three days.

xxx0xxx0xxx0xxxx

Foot of gangway of the Sea Duck

Logan looked along the jetty towards the entrance and then towards Elliot Bay. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his gun and looked at it again.

»»»»»»»

Flashback Logan's Penthouse:

"I do seem to be putting you in harm's way quite a bit lately."

"Yeah, and?" Max asked curiously

"So I got you a little something," Logan replied indicating a decorated wooden box.

"What's this?" Max asked picking it up.

"A present."

»»»»»»»

Logan glanced over his shoulder at the back deck of the Sea Duck and frowned for a moment. Danger and presents - is that going to be all I can offer you, Max? He shrugged, put the pistol in his pocket, released his brakes, and turned himself to face the entrance to the jetty. Glad you showed up.

xxx0xxx0xxx0xxxx

Aboard the Sea Duck:

Max squatted in front of the first tank she came to and viewed the last hydrostatic test date stamped into its shoulder. "It's been at least seven years since this thing's been last tested," Max muttered softly to herself as she looked for some indication on how they were getting the weapons into the tanks. They're doing it somehow - breaking them down and getting them in. Max reached forward and ran her finger from the test date and down the tank. As she reached a little past the shoulder, she stopped and ran her finger up and then down again and from side to side. A smile twitched her full lips. Quickly she took out a set of lock picks, and moved along the line of five tanks to the padlock securing the bar clamping them. "Some security," Max muttered in disdain as the lock sprang open. She didn't notice the small infrared alarm sensor as she lifted the bar and removed one of the tanks.

xxx0xxx0xxx0xxxx

Dive Down Trips shop Belle Harbor Marina:

In the back office, a light began to flash on a panel below a blank security monitor. At that moment, a large man walked in holding a cup of coffee. With a curse, he slammed his cup onto the desk and slapped at the monitor. "Damn piece of crap," he cursed and picked up the cellphone lying on the desk. "Mr. Krane, we got a sensor going off on the 'Duck," he said into it. "The monitor is off again…right boss." Putting the phone in his pocket, he opened a drawer, took out a 10mm Desert Eagle and chambered a round as he headed for the door.

xxx0xxx0xxx0xxx

The aft deck of the Sea Duck:

Max ran her hand along the area just below the shoulder of the tank, and shook her head in frustration. Quickly she returned to the first tank. She lifted that one out, did the same thing, and nodded. Heading towards the wheel house, she quickly slid down the companionway towards the engine compartment where she opened the lock to the tool cabinet. She removed a large adjustable spanner and a hammer. As she left, Max grabbed an old rag and wrapped the handle of the spanner in it.

xxx0xxx0xxx0xxx

Jetty:

Logan impatiently ran his hands over the rims of his chair and glanced back at the Sea Duck again. "Come on, Max," he muttered. He had released his brakes and started to turn towards the gangway again when he saw a man walking down the jetty. Logan swiveled around quickly and headed towards him.

xxx0xxx0xxx0xxxx

The Sea Duck:

Max placed the adjustable spanner around the pillar valve and tightened it up. "Hope this works," Max muttered softly. Then with the hammer, she hit the side of the cloth wrapped handle of the spanner. It didn't move. Hefting the hammer again, she hit it harder, making a soft 'ding!' "Damn," she whispered even as the whole top half of the tank moved with the spanner. Removing the spanner, Max grabbed the pillar valve and started to turn it gradually and then more quickly as the top half of the tank began to unscrew. Well, this would get Terry and Fe's eyes bulging.

»»»»»»»

Flashback pool deck:

Max stood looking thoughtfully at the tank she had just connected up to her Buoyancy Compensator.

"What's wrong, Max?" Terry asked as she came to stand next to the younger woman.

"Just wondered how they made this thing," she replied questioningly, looking from the tank to Terry. "It's all one piece."

Terry smiled. "That's not a question we get asked very often. I guess most people wonder about it but they rarely ask,"

"Sorta like how do they get the toothpaste in the tube," Max said with quirk of her lips.

"Funny you should say that, Max. Making a scuba tank is very similar to making a toothpaste tube, except that the bottom of the tube is left open to put in the toothpaste while the tank's top is left open," Terry replied pointing to where the pillar valve jutted from the tank.

Max looked at Terry in surprise at this bit of knowledge.

"One of my dad's companies used to manufacture toothpaste before the Pulse," she said with a shrug. "Anyway, because tanks have to stay intact under extreme pressure, they're made from a single aluminum or steel slug and extruded over a mandrel press, using a reverse flow, impact extrusion method." Terry's voice had taken on a lecturing tone and at the end she smiled self-consciously.

"Now I see why people don't ask," Max said with a bright laugh.

"Yeah, way too much info," Terry concurred with a laugh. "By the way, the Russians tried introducing Titanium tanks back in the nineties, but they were never approved here as they were welded and welds can give-way. But since the Pulse, with less strict checks, people have been getting a few and using them, so watch yourself."

"Yeah, sure," Max replied distractedly as she saw Logan watching her intently.

»»»»»»»

So, this is how you're fooling the cops. Max lifted the top half of the tank away to reveal a threaded ring welded into the bottom part that screwed into more threading in the top with an extremely thin rubber seal around the rim. "Won't Logan be pleased," she muttered. She had started to put the two pieces together again when she heard voices out on the jetty.

xxx0xxx0xxx0xxx

Jetty:

Logan pulled up in front of the man who towered over him. He was big, blonde, and broad-shouldered. His face was burnt, with crows' feet at the eyes from squinting through the reflected sun off the sea into the distance. It was a hard face.

"What are you doing here?" he sneered, looking down at Logan.

Logan looked up with a frown that switched into a friendly smile. "Had to get something from my uncle's yacht," he replied quickly as the man looked up from him towards the Sea Duck.

"Now, at this time of the morning?" he asked, bringing his gaze back to Logan.

Logan shrugged, and started to push past him. "You know how it is with women. Forget something and they need it now." Hope that's given you enough time to get away, Max.

Before Logan could move the man grabbed his shoulder. "I haven't seen you around here before…I think we'll just wait till my boss shows up," he snarled as he looked from Logan back to boat.

"I have somebody waiting," Logan said, putting a note of pleading into his voice.

"Yeah, well, they can wait. You got a name?" the guy said releasing, Logan's shoulder and taking a step back.

"Cale, Logan Cale," he replied, "If you check with Bill at the gate, he'll tell you who I am," Logan added.

With a snort, the guy glanced towards the start of the jetty. "That old fool? He'd say you were Eyes Only if he was paid enough." As he glanced back at Logan again, he just missed the look of consternation vanish from Logan's face.

xxx0xxx0xxx0xxx

The Sea Duck:

Max cautiously peered over the gunwale towards the jetty, making sure no light reflected off her face. Something reflected in the goon's waistband. Sharpening her vision, Max frowned as she saw the butt of a gun.

Max lowered herself quickly and put the tank back together. Trying not to be obvious, she put the tank back in its rack. Hell, the other one's gonna be difficult. She took a quick glance at the jetty again, and then, as the goon looked down at Logan, she grabbed the tank and moved it quickly to its empty rack.

As Max ducked again, she caught a glimpse of three more shapes walking down the jetty towards Logan and his guard. Well, so much for keeping Logan away from Krane. As she lowered the restraining bar, she finally saw the infra-red sensor. Crap…I'm loosing my edge…distractions. Softly closing the padlock, Max returned to watching, her face impassive, hiding her frustration and anger at Logan being here and her carelessness which had now resulting in him being in danger.

xxx0xxx0xxx0xxx

Jetty:

"What have you got here, Greg?" An older man with gray at his temples and broad powerful shoulders walked up.

"Guy says he was looking for something on his uncle's yacht," Greg replied with a shrug.

"And you are?"

"Says his name is Logan Cale."

The older man nodded at Logan, "Ah, Jonas Cale's nephew. I'm Julius Krane,"

"Logan Cale," he replied, trying to hide his discomfort at having to look up at the five men standing in a semi-circle in front of him, none looking friendly.

Krane's face creased into a frown. "You and your buddy are supposed to be doing your open water evaluation on the three day trip up to the San Juan Islands," he said, turning to one of the men standing next to him. "They're yours, Steve."

"Kewl," Steve said his inflection not exactly enthusiastic.

"So, Mr. Cale, why are you really down here now?" Krane cocked his head and looked at Logan with a hard edged curiosity.

"Like I said…"

"Yeah, like you said." Krane looked at Logan thoughtfully, "Your uncle mentioned once that you were a bleeding heart liberal journalist. Is that why you're taking this diving course - to write some article about the plight of the oceans?"

Logan swiveled his chair calmly and looked back down the jetty past the Sea Duck. "Yes, something like that, and since I was down here anyway, I thought I'd have a look at the gangway of your boat." This isn't working. No way is he gonna believe I got onto Jonas's boat in this thing.

Behind him, Krane smiled cruelly. "Well let me show you it up close - and the rest of the Sea Duck as well, since we're all here."

"That won't be necessary; I can see it's fine," Logan replied reassuringly.

"But I insist, Logan, since there's no way you could've got onto your uncles yacht. It's been laid up in the dry-dock since last week," Krane said, resting a heavy hand on Logan's shoulder and nodding to two of his goons. "Boris, go check out the boat. Al, go with him. The rest of you get back to the shop and grab the gear. We're doing this today,"

"But boss…"

"No buts…and bring some extra lead."

Nodding and grinning at each other, the two other men headed back up the jetty.

"Shall we go, Logan? I'll give you the grand tour of the boat you'll be diving from," he said with a chuckle and a slight push to get him moving.

Damn, Uncle Jonas screws me over again.

xxx0xxx0xxx0xxx

The Sea Duck:

As the two hirelings moved towards the boat, Max backed up into the lounge and then quickly made her way to the cabins at the front. Ignoring those, she made her way to the rope locker. After making sure she could open it from inside, she went in, dragging an old tarpaulin over her. Damn, this is not how it was supposed to be.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: I thought I should make something very clear. In my years of diving I have never met any Instructors, Dive masters or Dive operators who resemble Krane and his crew. They are purely a figment of my imagination. All of us who work in the diving industry and the recreational diving industry in particular are a hard working bunch who enjoy what we do.

TBC