The Man Beneath Lake Union

[Owen Ruger]

I thought that I'd give this a try, feel free to join in.



The Man Beneath Lake Union

When a rash of Eco-terrorism strikes the Seattle waterfront and begins to affect NUMA’s Puget Sound headquarters on Lake Union, Dirk Pitt and his trusted friend Al Giordino are sent to investigate. Dirk soon finds himself in the middle of a strange and unusual mystery that defies reality when he swims to the rescue of a young and beautiful Green Peace activist stranded in a sinking boat, and sees what he can only describe as a merman swimming away from the scene. Driven by what he saw, Dirk and Al race to solve the mystery and stop the destruction before fear grips the city, but soon learn that everything isn’t what it seems and the mystery swimmer maybe just another victim.

Seattle WA, 1922

Nicholas Michniki briskly walked along the dock with his fishing pole in hand; he carefully avoided the frosted areas of the dock’s weathered wood in order to keep from slipping into the fridge water and pulled out a fresh cigarette. Lighting his unfiltered cigarette and taking a deep drag, he stared out over the calm waters of Lake Union. It was a typical January morning in the Puget Sound area with no hint of snow and just enough moisture in the air to cause most stationary items to frost-over and turn white. Nicholas watched his breath linger in the cold air and shivered a deep shiver as the twenty eight degree air bite through his clothing and licked his skin.

Inhaling the warmth of his cigarette, Nicholas set his fishing pole in a small wooden rowboat and then took a seat and untied the line to the dock. Early morning fishing had become a ritual to him since retirement and even though he was in his seventies, he found it easy to row the waters of the lake. His cobalt blue eyes still sparkled as if he was in his twenties and seemed to hide the wrinkles and weathered skin of his pale face.

Nicholas set out on a steady course that led north along the shore and watched the Seattle skyline materialize as the sun began to rise. After nearly twenty minutes of rowing he reached his favorite fishing area and cast his line. It was then that he noticed a relatively large patch of red film on top of the water; not a blood red, but an oily tinted crimson that glistened in the morning’s sun. Curious at the peculiar substance, Nicholas dipped his fingers into the water and examined the liquid.

Suddenly he began to feel disorientated and light headed. The world around him began to spin uncontrollably and he began to gasp for air. He thrashed out in a violent convulsion causing his little row boat to rock back and forth, then capsizing and throwing him overboard. He watched the blue sky above disappear and blur as he sank into the freezing lake water, and realized that he was not drowning; he was breathing.

This post has been edited by Owen Ruger on Apr 26 2007, 02:38 PM

[Riyukco]

Good job so far. Last Chance and Thunder Shock are on going roleplays if you want to join in on them too. I have six different stories going at this minute so I won't join in just yet.

This post has been edited by Riyukco on Apr 26 2007, 03:32 PM

[tonym5]

Nicholas Michniki found himself swimming naturally and when he tried to step on shore it was impossible because he had become a merman. Stunned, Nicholas looked at the water and saw his face in the reflection and what he saw was even more shocking, he was young again!

[Riyukco]

What the heck, I'm not reading any books right now so I think I can keep seven straight.

Nicholas swam farther and deeper than he had ever done before. Before him he saw the most beautiful city he had ever seen. Around him were hundreds of merpeople. Where am I? he tought.

[Owen Ruger]

Seattle 1989,
NUMA Puget Sound Headquarters, 1801 Fairview Ave E.

At the intersection a block away from the NUMA Puget Sound Headquarters, one of Seattle’s homeless sat quietly on a soiled piece of cardboard, drunkenly staring at the sidewalk in front of him. A forgotten soul among the busy city, he sat oblivious to the world around him, his days blurred into nights and nights into days as he drank his pain away. As the traffic light on Fairview Ave turned red and the vehicles slowed to a stop, an unusual sight caught his eye. The thick white wall of a tire glowed in the afternoon sun.

As if pulled out of a heavy slumber, the transient looked up to view the car attached to the tire before him. His eyes were met with a mint condition 1931 Cadillac Series 452-A V-16 convertible coupe, bright teal with black accents and tan leather interior. He followed the car’s lines from front to back and then to the passenger staring at him with a huge boyish smile and a thick forearm resting on the door edge.

Al Giordino pulled out a crisp twenty dollar bill and handed it to the transient looking up at him, “don’t spend it all in one place my friend.”

“Tha… tha… thanks mishter, God blesh.” Replied the weary man in a slurred voice as he accepted the money and smiled back.

Dirk looked over at Al with a quizzical look and said, “Next time you ask to borrow a twenty I should read the fine print.”

“Why spend my money when I can spend yours?” Al replied, sarcastically getting a kick out of duping his best friend, a feat that is seldom done.

The light turned green and Dirk crossed the intersection, and then turned left into the main driveway and stopping at the security booth. The security guard stood motionless and watched the antique car come to a halt, “Wow, now that’s a car! What the heck is it?” Dirk listed off the vehicle’s description along with enough technical terms to send the guard’s mind into overdrive, and then showed their credentials and entered the property.

[Riyukco]

Dirk parked the car in the closest spot he could find. They rode the elevator up to the top floor of the Seattle NUMA building. The two friends of many years stepped out of the elevator into a office that would have Hiram blush.

[Owen Ruger]

Every inch of the office’s walls was covered with maritime history of the Puget Sound, and no shelf space was left unoccupied. Old black and white pictures of downtown Seattle hung and depicted a quaint logging town with dirt roads, perched next to it was a faded black and white picture of Chief Seattle, the Native American the Emerald City was named after. Nearby, hung colored pictures of various hydroplanes racing during several Seafairs, each one autographed. Along the windows and on the office floor sat miscellaneous maritime items that ranged from Japanese glass floats to an old and rust anchor chain.

As Dirk and Al stepped into the office, a wiry man wearing a purple and gold University of Washington shirt and worn down blue jeans stepped around an over crowded desk with an open smile. He stood close to six-two and sported a high-n-tight hair cut with stark white hair and a matching mustache. They both glanced around the room with an impressed look and neither spoke until the tall man broke the silence. “Mr. Pitt, Mr. Giordino, welcome to Seattle,” extending an open hand to Pitt, “I’m Allen Miles.”

“Thanks for the welcome Allen, quite the collection you have here.” Dirk commented while shaking Allen’s hand.

“Yes, it’s a family tradition that goes as far back as my great-grandfather. He was fisherman off of Vancouver Island and started keeping all of the odds and ends that he would find in the water. Then my grandfather brought the collection here to Seattle when he became a US citizen. It didn’t surge in size however until my father, who was a high school history teacher, started actively collecting items during the summer breaks. After he passed away, I naturally picked it up and with the help of NUMA, you have what is here before you.”

“This is an interesting piece,” Giordino mentioned while examining a tribal wooden carving of orcas and a man as the dorsal fin, “what is it?”

“Ahh yes, one of my favorite pieces, it’s a scale replica of a stone carving NUMA discovered in the San Juan’s a few years ago. Darnedest thing that stone carving, dam mystery I’ve yet to figure out. We found it during a research dive off of Center Island in 60 feet of water. Its twenty feet in length and ten feet in width—must way a ton. The native tribe in the area had no record of it and to this day no one can figure out how it got there.”

“I think I remember hearing about that.” Dirk commented while glancing over several pictures. “I could spend hours admiring your family’s collection, but if you don’t mind? Could we go over what has been taking place along the water front?”

“Sure, sure, no problem; It’s mostly been affecting the local fishing companies. Someone has been poking holes in their boats while they’re docked. There have been a few boat fires and a dock fire, but nothing affecting NUMA until four days ago. We had a small research vessel conducting side-scan sonar training near the locks when she started to take on water. Luckily she made it to shallow water before we lost her; during the investigation we found that she had several large hole bored into the hull.”

“Diver?” asked Giordino.

“Not unless he can swim fast enough to catch the research vessel and stay with her long enough to do the damage, there were seventeen holes bored clean through.”

“What about a sub of some sort?” Suggested Dirk.

“We jumped to that conclusion too, but nothing was picked up on the sonar the Navy conducted a check of the lake for us without a result.”

Dirk looked out of the office window and watched several small sail boats skimming across the lake and several other boats going about their business. He could grow to enjoy Seattle with it's vast waterfronts and maritime history, as well as an abundance of diving locations. The sun was out and only a few clouds meandered westward in the direction of the Olympics. Dirk glanced over to Allen, “is the damaged research vessel still in dry dock?”

“Yes, we haven’t touched it since the initial investigation. Follow me and I’ll take you to her.” Allen stated as he led the way out of his office and down to the docks.

[Riyukco]

The three men left the office and headed down to the nearby docks. When they got there the dock, it was a flurry of activity.

This post has been edited by Riyukco on May 1 2007, 02:07 PM

[Owen Ruger]

“What’s all this?” asked Dirk as they walked along the dock and observed several NUMA deckhands preparing the fleet to depart.

“After the attack, Admiral Sandecker ordered the ships out of the lake and into the Elliot Bay.” Miles responded.

“Makes sense since all of the attacks have occurred in the lake,” Goirdino mentioned then paused at the bow of a small research vessel that was dry-docked, “is this it?”

“Yes, most of the damage is along the port side. As you can see here, the holes are perfectly round as if cut by a laser, accept there are no burn marks to back that up.”

Dirk looked closer and inspected the damages, “Has anyone pulled apart the cabin floor to look at the holes from the back?”

“No not yet, the furthest down we inspected was the engine compartment and the bilge pumps. Why do see something we missed?”

“Maybe, it’s just a hunch. But, if there are matching holes or burn marks that didn’t penetrate the cabin flooring and we match those to the boats location during the attack…”

Goirdino saw the light and finished Dirk’s train of thought, “then we can get the trajectory and the location of what was attacking.”

“Exactly.” Dirk said while running a finger around the edges of a hole.

Two crowbars and three hours later, Al and Dirk had the cabin floor completely removed and revealed several burn marks that matched the diameter of the holes. They quickly calculated the angles and then returned to Miles’ office to consolidate the research vessel’s location and depth of the water.

“Interesting, according to the numbers, someone started shooting some type of laser at the research vessel from a fixed location 125 feet deep, here,” Dirk proclaimed as he tapped his finger on a freshly circled spot. “Do you mind if Al and I steal a zodiac and some dive gear for the afternoon?”

Miles grinned and threw up his hands in a mocked protest, “you’re the boss”

[Riyukco]

"Hey, wait. Isn't 125 feet a little deep for scuba diving?" asked Miles.

This post has been edited by Riyukco on May 16 2007, 05:34 PM

[Owen Ruger]

“Without decompression stops we’ll have about a ten minute window to search the lakebed, not a problem since we have a narrow area to check.” Pitt explained, “I’m more concerned with the temperatures, lakes are notorious for thermal clines.”

Twenty minutes later Al and Dirk were skipping across the lake on small black rubber and fiberglass zodiac boat. They were both wearing barrowed red and black Harvey dry suits and brought along silver aluminum 80 air tanks. Goirdino steadied himself at the rear of the boat and held the throttle open as the boat jumped the wake of a passing vessel. Dirk glanced up briefly from the hard landing and then returned to checking the dive gear as casual as ever.

Suddenly the small zodiac slowed and then abruptly turned to the starboard, Dirk looked up a Goirdino and then in the new direction. Thirty feet ahead sat a 22 foot ski boat that was listing close to 12 degrees. Standing on the bow of the sinking boat was a young woman in a red bikini waving franticly. Both Dirk and Al were mesmerized by the woman’s beauty; she appeared to be in her early twenties, fare skinned and close to six feet with long legs worthy of a model contract. Her blonde hair flowed in large curls over her shoulders and partly covered a pair breast that fought gallantly to escape the confines of the bikini top.

Dirk looked back to Al and noticed a smile appearing on the broad shouldered Italian’s face, “So what did you notice first? The listing boat or the blonde?”

Goirdino shrugged, “it’s the small things in life that make a man happy.”

“Careful you don’t bite off more than you can chew my friend.” Replied Pitt as they closed in on the sinking boat.

[Riyukco]

The beautiful blonde looked up at the zodiac. She put on a bashful smile and siad to the two men. "Could you boys help me I think my boat is sinking?"