September 19, 2032
In the waters off None, Alaska, aboard an icebreaker, Clifton Farris and several crew members are looking at a long block of clear ice with a frozen, seven foot long, prehistoric baby sea monster, inside.
October 3, 2033
One year later, in the Intercostal Waterway at Jupiter, Florida a man snorkeling sees a sixty foot prehistoric creature swimming rapidly towards the Loxahatchee River. The man swims to shore, scrambles up the sea wall staircase, grabs his cell phone, and starts to dial. Suddenly the creature’s gigantic head rolls up out of the water and takes the man.
Back underwater, the creature goes back to swimming fast. He heads up the Loxahatchee River and takes a channel to the right.
The next morning, on the ocean side of Jupiter, Florida there is a yacht at sea. A man in a deck chair is fishing and talking on his cell phone. "Did I win the election? ...fantastic! We’ll fix those bastards now."
Underwater the creature approaches, builds momentum, glides up out of the water and takes the man in chair. Without turning, the creature slips back into the water.
Meanwhile, the victim’s wife, below deck washing dishes, notices a dimming from the blockage of sunlight at the porthole behind her. She runs over, looks out the porthole, and sees nothing. Then she runs up to on deck and looks for her husband. She cries out, "George? George! Where are you?"
The creature swims up the same channel to a Lagoon. There is a nice house at a distance. A teenage boy and girl in a small boat are approaching the house. A sign on the shore says "Protect Our Manatees". They begin to feel dizzy and turn back. The boy says "Feels like ultra-sonic security" he says. "Or maybe to ward off boaters who might injure Manatees" she replies.
The next morning, on the ocean side of Palm Beach Shores, bathers are enjoying the water near Steen's Restaurant, but not for long. A Great White Shark comes in fast and takes a teenage girl as an appetizer before breakfast.
At the Palm Beach Shores Police Station, Chief of Police Curlman is on the phone, "Great White, here? ...Who's the girl? ...Did anyone ask her name? ...Okay, let me know." He hangs up and dials his teenage daughter on his cellphone. There is no answer. He is very worried.
The next morning, in Palm Beach Shores on the Intercostal side, a fiftyish couple, Dave and Chloe Johnson, are at home sitting near the seawall. The water is at high tide. They are drinking coffee and laughing. Dave says. "We’re going to get rid of those goddamned Libertarian bastards once and for all. Christ, they leave us no ability to milk the populace whatsoever." Chloe smiles.
Next door, north of the Johnson’s, Chief Cuelman’s daughter, Jennifer, is running into the driveway. A van pulls in and screeches to a stop. She looks back as he exits the van. She runs around behind the house, then along the seawall, and breaks through the hedge. She sees the Johnsons sitting. She screams and points towards the man. "Mr. Johnson, help! There's a man after me!"
A housewife on the other side looks out her kitchen window and sees all three people at the seawall, but not the pursuer still behind the hedge. The Johnsons jump up. Jennifer moves forward and is blocked from the woman's window view by a tall Hibiscus.
The creature underwater approaches along the sea wall. He rolls his head up out of water and takes the Johnsons. The housewife sees this and goes to phone. She calls 911 and says "...a creature in the water, like a big dinosaur, just ate three people, Dave and Cloe Johnson and Chief Curlman’s daughter... yes I’m sure... yes, Jennifer."
The cop at other end is worried by the sincere tone, but rolls his eyes up to ceiling with skepticism about the description of the creature.
While the housewife, no longer looking out the window, continues on the phone, the pursuing man breaks through the hedge, grabs Jennifer, takes her back through the hedge, handcuffs her, and puts her in the van. They drive off.
A helicopter at a great distance over the water off Riviera Beach on the mainland has videotaped everything. It starts to leave. Reacting to a bumble bee in the cab, the pilot accidentally drops the video cam out the open window into the water. "Shit!" he exclaims.
Back at the lagoon, an underwater gate opens and the creature enters. At the house, there are expensive cars parked in the driveway. Inside in a special room is a big control panel with underwater TV monitor screens, one of them just for the gate.
The abduction van arrives at the whorehouse. Jennifer gets out. The whoremaster, Maurice, approaches with a big sleazy grin. “Hey there, Boobykin... my name is Maurice. We are human traffickers, and you are going to be an obedient sex slave for the rest of your life...” he says as he walks right up, looks in her eyes, and as pinches her nipples he asks, “How do you like them apples?”
Jennifer knows a little Karate and spits in his face. Then with a looping punch, slugs him hard in the nuts. He gasps, clutching his spuds, and falls to his knees. She replies “Probably about as much as you like them apples, shit-for-brains.”
She tries to bolt, but two men truncheon her to the ground. They take her inside, strip her naked and tie her. When Maurice recovers he gives her a long whipping, but just hard enough not to damage the merchandise.
Next morning, out in the ocean off Palm Beach Shores, two political campaign workers are fishing in a runabout. Suddenly the creature capsizes the boat, swoops around and scoops both of them. A man fishing on shore sees it all and calls the police on his cell.
At the police station, Chief Curlman is growing frantic as the housewife retells all she saw, “...like a giant Alligator Garfish. The jaws were five feet long.”
The call from the shore fisherman comes in. The chief answers, then says to all present, “The damned thing just took two guys in a boat. Same description."
The housewife is done and leaves. As the chief picks up the phone he says, “I’m calling Seattle for some expert help. His name is Viktor Mallenberg, a paleo-oceanographer and professor at the college up there.
Later that day at the University of Washington, a cooperating Seattle police detective, John Colo goes to visit Dr. Mallenberg in his office. The professor is at his desk. Detective Colo walks in and sits down facing him.
Amazed by the detective’s story, and glad for a chance to help, the professor expounds with great enthusiasm, “Sounds like a Mosasaurus Maximus… Picture a fifty seven foot fish with the head of a crocodile. Long snout with big pointed teeth. He was the biggest toothy predator ever to live on this planet... sixty five million years ago. To help scale him, a killer whale is only thirty feet long, but very dangerous and scary anyway. A Megalodon Shark could reach fifty feet, and eat a T-Rex like you or I would eat a large turkey leg with the thigh attached. Well, the Mosasaur usually took small prey like giant shell fish, but if he was really hungry, he would eat a Megalodon.”
“Jesus!” exclaims Colo.
“Nope. More like Leviathan, Satan with fins” replies Mallenberg.
Next morning at the lagoon house property, Albert visits the huge utility shed near the lagoon behind the house. He says to the cowhand, “Breakfast time.”
Through the shed door to the interior, on the left is a cold storage room with more than twenty steers all butchered hanging from the ceiling. Adjacent, to the right, is a deep pool of water eighty feet square, like a small grotto with normal fluorescent lighting overhead. The pool is connected to the lagoon by a sixty foot channel under the river bank.
The cowhand uses a small pivoting crane to lever a steer carcass over to the edge of the pool. The creature rolls his head out and takes the steer.
“Chow down, big Moe.” the cowhand says.
In the kitchen, Clifton Farris is watching the television news. A reporter is telling about the seawall incident. There is a school photo of Jennifer Curlman.
“…also taken was Chief of Police Curlman’s daughter.”
Farris is skeptical and says, “Bullshit!” As the TV screen shows outraged Chief Curlman, Farris looks up to the sky and invokes, “Help me! I must not break my resolve.”
In his dark cherry paneled kitchen in Burbank, California, Garrett Valdison is eating lunch with Gretchen Van Roon. They hear about these events on television. There is a picture of a Mosasaur on the TV screen.
“The victims all anti-libertarian activists, plus bizarre modus. Must be Farris” Garrett remarks.
“Call him and ask” Gretchen replies. Garrett calls.
“Fung goo la voo, Monsieur. So now you've cloned a Mosasaur from DNA?” he ventures.
Replies Farris, “Bah fung goo, Senor. No, we found a baby one quick frozen in Alaska. I named him Moe. We used Gentries Solution in plenty, and he came around fast. He probably have anyway even without the solution... Remember the quick frozen mammoths? It was only their size that killed them, because they didn't freeze trough fast enough... Then we fed him daily with fresh beef laced with Von Haptel Growth Stimulant... accelerates growth rate twenty times.”
“Why not just shoot the victims? I would gladly have done it myself if you paid me enough, and there wouldn't be this collateral damage...” says Garrett. Farris is silent. Garrett continues, “You've really fucked up this time, killing an innocent girl. I know you like to do things in a big way, but you're getting too goddamned irresponsible.”
Farris is potentially ashamed, but remains skeptical about the events. “There's more to it. I know there is. The Mosasaur was guided correctly” he asserts.
“Yeah, sure.” Garrett opines dryly.
They get off the phone just as the helicopter pilot arrives back and walks into the kitchen. He sees the agitation in Farris, “I lost the tape because of a bee in the cab. The camera fell in the water, but the girl was not taken by Moe. I too saw that news bullshit on the way in. It was some guy in a van who took her. I’m going diving right now and I’ll get the tape, don’t worry. Farris is relieved and calls Garrett back with the news.
“I can’t help without proof. Benedict will figure this out, if he hasn’t already. I hope you find that tape!’ says Garrett.
Farris gets online, visits a van rental website, and makes a call. Albert walks in. Farris types quickly, prints, and hands the copy to Albert saying “I found the van renter. Please launch our standard full-scale manhunt for this joker.”
At the police station, Chief Curlman is yelling, crying, and making threats. He dials the phone,
“Chief of Police Curlman, Palm Beach Shores. May I speak to Governor Vance please...”
A short time later in the oval office, President Benedict dials his desk phone. Valdison answers.
“Hello Garrett. Benedict here. This Mosasaur business... Whoever it is, the people they killed were enemies of this country, but not that girl... Is this the Belated Justice people again?”
“Yes, but they say the Mosasaur didn't take her. They had a videotape showing a man abducting her in a van The tape was lost, but they say only temporarily and that they will get it back” Garrett replies.
“In other words, there's no proof. We're going to have to stop them.”
“I know” Garrett concludes
The pilot drives to the place where the camera was dropped and enters the water. He finds the camera and videotape easily.
In the lagoon house control room, Farris is watching the end of the tape showing the abduction. He dials Valdison.
“We found it. Damned good camera, the tape is intact, and shows clearly what happened. Check your email. I’m attaching a copy.”
In his library, Garret watches the tape on screen. He dials the Oval Office. Benedict answers.
“Mr. President, Garrett gettin back to ya. Belated Justice recovered the tape. I've seen it. The girl was taken by a man, not the Mosasaur. I’m sending a copy to Chief Curlman.”
“Good! I’m relieved, but I can't officially just call off the FBI.”
“I'll send you a copy too” Garrett assures him.
“Okay. I’ll at least get it to a lower priority, but even with the infamous Johnsons as a well deserved snack, a good deal of Illegality remains in this.” They hang up. Now Garrett calls Farris.
“I told Benedict. It’s too late to call off the FBI, but he will get them to downplay it.”
“Okay, thanks..." says Farris, still a bit worried.
Later in the lagoon house kitchen, Farris and Albert are having lunch. They see a reporter on TV, “...the FBI is urgently seeking the organization which controls the Mosasaur... Updating another local big fish story, ocean beachgoers in Palm Beach Shores are still afraid to go into the water because of that Great White Shark that took a teenage girl earlier today.”
They both look worried, but Farris has an idea, “We can help with this and earn big points besides.” He visits the control board and types in some programing. Then they go to the grotto in the utility shed. Farris watches proudly as the Mosasaur leaves on an errand to save the day.
At the entrance to the Loxahatchee, a man in small boat sees the Mosasaur under the water swimming out of the river. He picks up his cell and dials 911.
In the ocean, off Palm Beach Shores the Great White is swimming towards shore. The Mosasaur comes out of nowhere, zooms in, and bites off the shark’s tail. Then he swoops around and bites off the fins. The shark is completely immobilized. Now the Mosasaur takes a big bite out or the shark’s middle for a morning snack. As he leaves, other smaller sharks arrive and begin a feeding frenzy on the White.
Back at the entrance to the Loxahatchee, FBI helicopters are splitting off to scour all branches of the river. A few minutes later, Farris sees one outside and looks worried, but the visibility of his activities from the air has always been zero as a matter of policy, so nobody notices anything unusual.
Near the house, the helicopter moving on, stops over the lagoon to observe some manatees. The Mosasaur is just now entering the lagoon from the river. The pilot starts a routine call in. Suddenly he sees the Mosasaur. In the house Farris is watching and grabs his 30.06 rifle with the telescopic sight, removes an ice bullet from the freezer, and shoots the pilot in the temple. The helicopter remains hovering twenty feet above the water. Farris runs to control panel. The Mosasaur turns, arcs around to build
momentum, and then leaps the twenty feet into the air, catching the helicopter by one of the landing skids. As he dangles, the helicopter is dragged down under the water.
In the whorehouse, Jennifer Curlman is being manhandled by a big ugly stupid looking customer. She resists. The customer complains so Maurice who gives her another light whipping.
A boater is now approaching the lagoon in runabout. Farris is out in a small boat surveying the visibility of the submerged helicopter, which is very great. Albert, looking out the window, sees the boater and switches the ultra sound back on. Farris is in agony, puts fingers in his ears, but then sees why it's necessary. The boater feels it too, and with fingers in his own ears, yell to Farris.
“Sir, can you turn that off, please?”
Farris pretends not to hear him, and he finally leaves.
Now Albert hauls the helicopter into the grotto using the feeding crane. They syphon the gas tank dry and Albert engineers a natural seeming malfunction in the gas gage. Cowhands load the helicopter into a truck.
Farris and Albert drive over to the River’s Edge Road lagoon and dump it in in the water fronting Trapper Nelson’s property.
“The neighbors are on vacation” says Farris.
Noticing that the tide is just starting out, they take the pilot’s body half a mile back up the river and put it in the water.
“Perfecto by Levidico” says Farris, “We must have been star-blessed on this.”
“Damned straight!” replies Albert.
Back in Lagoon house control room, Farris realizes that everybody knows about the Mosasaur at this point, so he sends an Email with an attached copy of the “Johnson Mealtime Tape” tape to the TV news, then calls them on phone.
“Howdy, TV news? I want to keep my anonymity here, but I’ve sent you a tape showing that big sea creature snatching the Johnson couple, but then we see a guy snatch the girl. I’m a just a impoverished snorkeler and found the video camera with the cassette intact. It’s a nice camera, so I’m going to keep it for my trouble.”
At the police station, Chief Curlman is sitting with the desk sergeant. He hangs up the phone.
“We’ve found the van renter, and the vehicle itself, parked at a bordello off Blue Heron. Definitely human traffickers. Let’s get the feds and go kick some ass” he says.
Farris shows up first at the whorehouse. He goes inside. The minute Maurice sees the look on Clifton's face, he reaches for his gun, but Farris is faster, and shoots Maurice between the eyes.
Back outside, the FBI is arriving. Farris sees them through the window and takes off out the back door. The FBI shoots it out with the rest of the traffickers and Jennifer is rescued.
At the police station Jennifer is reunited with her father. They hug each other happily.
“Dad! Listen, I’m okay! I resisted and got them very pissed off, but there was no penetration.
The chief is relieved and pleased with his daughter’s strength and maturity.
"I've spoken to the FBI about a special task force to get rid of traffickers by infiltrating them. They will want to interview you for any little details you might remember. Sleep on it. Might just be some casual mention of a street or a name" the chief adds.
"Okay, no problem" says Jennifer.
In the lagoon house kitchen, Farris calls Garrett.
“…Yeah, I nailed that asshole they’re calling Maurice on TV, turns out he was the boss of the entire Florida trafficking operation. Also, I sent Moe out to kill the Great White that ate that high school girl. I feel good inside, but I’m also thinking it might enhance my tarnished image a bit.”
“Good work, Captain Nemo. It sure won’t hurt any…” replies Garrett.
Garrett calls Benedict and gives him a complete update. Then Benedict calls the FBI.
“Please call it off on the Belated Justice people. It turns out that they helped with the traffickers just ahead of your people and also got rid of that Great White that ate the schoolgirl. I know they’re outlaws, but they do much more good than harm, and I personally have forgiven them. Remember you owe me one, so please do the right thing on this.
Then Benedict calls Garrett.
“The FBI is off the Mosasaur case, but I had to call in a big marker. You owe me one.”
Garrett calls Farris.
“You’re off the hook, but you owe me one.”
“I know, buddy, and thanks. Almost got caught this time. Later too, in the lagoon...” Farris trails off, realizing that there is no advantage in telling Garrett about the helicopter and pilot.
“You’ve accomplished some bad shit on this, mixed in with all the good stuff. They found one of the FBI helicopters in the water at Nelson’s place. A very young pilot with a wife and new baby. They’re still looking for his body.”
Farris is amazed by the coincidence of Garrett’s words.
“I’m sad to hear that” he says with solemn sincerity.
What are your future plans for Moe?” asks Garrett.
It's costing me a fortune in beef to feed him everyday so I'm thinking of sending him over as an anonymous donation to the Miami Seaquarium. They can feed him seafood and everyone will get to see him.