A/N: Grissom and a mystery! Enjoy!
Out There
Chapter 9
A light mist hung over the Hilo harbor as the Coast Guard ship cut through a dark flat ocean. The only evidence of a clear day coming was the faint light on the eastern horizon. Gil Grissom stood on the stern deck and took a deep lungful of sea air, releasing it in a satisfied sigh. Even with the potentially dangerous search ahead of them, Grissom felt the situation was like an elixir to his mind. Late in life, he had tumbled into the problems happening on and to the world's oceans. Now, he was mesmerized by the ocean and the creatures living there.
Two men interrupted his solitude, both talking about the search grid as they joined him. One said, "You look ready for the day!" The second man handed Grissom a cup of steaming coffee.
"I think we have a good chance of finding it," Grissom said.
The three men knew the position of the research ship but since the researchers and assistants were learning how to operate the different vehicles, none had worried about tracking where they actually were in the area of the Pacific Ocean designated as a whale sanctuary.
Paulson said, "They were never far—maybe five miles—from the ship."
"Yeah," Grissom gave a hopeful smile.
The Coast Guard cutter traveled faster than the research ship and by sunrise, they had arrived near the location where the research ship had been. Grissom and Paulson looked around wishing they could pinpoint the routes the inflatable boats had taken. With help, the remote submersible was deployed with Grissom and Paulson explaining how it worked.
They searched through the morning, taking breaks while others worked the remote running a box grid about three miles long. At two in the afternoon, one of the Coast Guard crew members called out.
"Something in the water!"
The cutter maneuvered to pass directly above the object and using active sonar, found an image, blurry and muddy looking. Everyone went to work in what appeared to be a well rehearsed program. Personal detection monitors that could detect the smallest level of radiation were passed out and attached to everyone's shoulder. Three divers were ready to go; a diving buoy was dropped overboard and the divers followed. The cutter drifted away from the drivers as a safety precaution.
Carefully positioning the submersible, Paulson was able to keep a live feed going as the divers descended below the ocean. When a dark floating object came into view, two of the divers swam toward it. Almost immediately, one of the voices of the divers came into the room.
"Nothing is leaking—no radiation detected." A pause before the diver continued, saying, "It's wrapped in a heavy fish net."
The submersible was near enough to provide a clear view of the two divers swimming around the barrel, tugging at the trailing net.
The voice from the diver spoke again. "Going to send it to surface with a couple of lift bags."
The divers attached straps and two brightly colored bags to the barrel but it did not move. One of the divers kept a hand on the long trailing net; the observers could see he was tugging on the net.
The diver said, "It's snagged on something—no, there's another barrel!"
It was not an easy task and two more divers joined the three in the water. Occasionally, a curious dolphin showed up, swimming around the divers. The huge whales paid no attention to the divers or the ship, keeping their distance several hundred yards away.
Before the sun set, the crew had managed to lift three barrels onto the deck of the cutter. All three had radiation markings but no leakage of radiation or any other substance was detected. It appeared the barrels had been wrapped in a heavy fishing net weighed down with pieces of concrete pilings.
Once the barrels were placed on a heavy tarp and secured, the cutter's captain, Grissom and Paulson huddled, talking about what to do next. "Pearl Harbor," said the captain. So that's where the cutter, crew, and company headed with a quick stop at Hilo so Grissom, Paulson, and the whale sanctuary group could disembark.
"What will happen to these barrels?" Asked Grissom.
The captain shrugged, saying, "Probably disappear into some warehouse—do you think there's treasure in them?"
Paulson cracked a joke about an Indiana Jones movie and the Ark of the Covenant that caused a laugh.
"I'd like to have a closer inspection," Grissom said. "Those labels looked spray painted—not a professional toxic waste label."
The captain gave Grissom an incredulous look. "You don't plan to open one, do you?"
"Just look."
As the cutter picked up speed, one of the barrels was rolled into a small alcove and tied securely. Several others crowded into the area to watch as Grissom tapped around the metal container. Several times, he leaned so close his nose almost touched the barrel. His fingernail scraped the yellow paint; chips fell into his palm.
"This is a homemade job," he said as he stood and took a step back. Looking at the captain, he asked, "You are in charge of everything on this ship, right? Do you have a hazmat or contamination suit?"
"Do you want to open it?"
This time Grissom nodded. "It's not radiation waste—could be something toxic—but I don't think it is." He walked around the barrel and tapped in several places. "I think I've seen something like this before," he paused, his fingers touching the rim. "I think a body is inside." Looking around at the group, he said, "If I open this, it's likely to be the worse stench you've ever smelled."
It took the captain several minutes but curiosity took over and he called for a crew member to bring a hazmat suit. He said, "If you unleash the hounds of hell, I'm coming after you."
With the help of others, Grissom rigged a plastic shield around the barrel then pulled on the hazmat suit. Someone else had handed out face masks as Grissom began work with a hammer on a rusty bolt. A few minutes later, a ring holding the top to the barrel popped apart.
"Now or never," Grissom murmured as he used the claw of the hammer to force an opening.
Immediately, the smell caused everyone but Grissom to step away. He worked the hammer around the top until it broke away. Even with the barrel wrapped in plastic, the horrific reek escaped, filling nostrils of all of those who had gathered around to watch.
To Grissom, it was the unmistakable smell of decomp. He heard someone gagging.
Once the top was pushed free, Grissom asked for a flashlight before realizing he did not need one. His gloved hand reached into the murky soup and tugged out an undeniable human foot, still wearing a shoe—a sandal to correctly identify the footwear.
Later, as Grissom talked to the others, he explained that he had gone with a hunch—an instinct—from his previous work as a crime scene investigator.
"Found a body in a chemical waste barrel—similar to this one—even closed the same way. And with the haphazard way the symbol had been painted on it—whoever did this wanted to scare away anyone who might see it."
The Coast Guard captain had already messaged Hilo's police department. He said, "Hilo does not want these things on Christmas day."
Several of the men laughed with one saying, "Not their jurisdiction."
The barrels would continue the journey to Pearl Harbor.
Well after midnight, Grissom quietly opened the door of the cabin on the research ship. He'd showered thoroughly on the Coast Guard cutter and after returning to the ship, he'd found a bag of lemons in the kitchen, took six, and showered again on the deck. Determined not to smell of decomp, he'd dumped his clothing in a bucket, filled the bucket with water, and left it on deck. Paulson had thrown a couple of towels at him as he showered so he had wrapped one around his waist and headed to the cabin.
Sara was sleeping soundly in the middle of the bed. He dressed in boxers and a tee-shirt, brushed his teeth, and crawled into bed. Sara stirred, not waking, as he adjusted bed covers. His hand brushed against her hip causing a smile. Lifting the sheet, his grin broadened; she was wearing a silky short gown, her long legs glowing against the white sheets. Snuggling against her warm body, he wrapped an arm around his wife.
She had dressed for his return and for Christmas morning. He had no doubt—he'd given the very sexy nightie to her years ago as a Christmas gift. It was red.
A/N: Thank you for reading! Thank you to all who send a message-more to come! Fanfiction has a problem with notifications-so keep checking back for the next chapter!