Hatched

Chapter Thirty-Nine

July 4th, 2021

1800 hours

Quinn prompted Garcia to cut off the motorboat's engine before they neared the rig, his eyes squinting as he tried to formulate a plan. Normally, he wouldn't go in as blindly as they were, but they didn't have time to waste, and a half-cocked plan was better than none.

After his talk with John Ellis, he'd spent hours walking the beaches, mind on overdrive as he struggled to make sense of everything. More than anything, what plagued him most was the why, not the how, of Ellis keeping the creature, and possibly cloning or breeding them. There was still something he'd overlooked, a key piece of information that would unquestionably incriminate her. While he had John's testimony, that would only get him so far in court, even if John took the stand. What he needed was something concrete, that could bind her to the charges indefinitely.

He was certain the answer was in her briefcase files, but he'd been unable to make heads or tails of them. What he needed was for Robyn to go through them, but that idea had quickly gone out the window once he returned to her beach house. He allowed so many neglected, disregarded emotions through during their lovemaking that he was a mess. His heart and brain were in a battle of tug of war, and neither seemed to be winning.

It was beyond imaginable that she'd taken it upon herself to go through the files for him. He hoped she didn't think he had intercourse to coerce her into helping more. Smart as she was, he understood female hormones to be fickle things, often not mirroring reality. Perhaps, it was he who was wrong, and men were simply incapable of seeing the small nuances of social graces. Either way, he intended to follow through with his promise. How, he didn't know, but he would.

Quinn didn't want Robyn anywhere near that rig, and though his intentions were good, he loathed himself for dismissing her like he did. Her change in mood was hard to ignore, knowing he was probably breaking her heart, his own clenching in pain. The feeling was foreign, and nearly took his breath away, having not felt something so strong in a long while. It comforted him to know he had something wonderful to lose.

George was hard to convince, however, and Quinn highly suspected he'd seen through their hasty attempt to get rid of her. Quinn was surprised, and extremely grateful, when George eventually agreed to play along. If Robyn was safe, he didn't care what happened to himself. Only as long as she was safe.

As a group they decided to boat out during the late afternoon, when the tourist would still be out on the water in droves, eager to celebrate Independence Day. The police boat went unnoticed, for the most part, though several curious eyes wandered their way. Once they were far enough out, they were alone on the endless, rolling waves.

Quinn raised a hand to shield the dying sun from his eyes, grumbling in protest when he felt someone jostle him a bit too roughly.

"Watch it." He glowered, casting a warning look at the offending body. Shepp glared back but scooted away a few inches.

"We're packed like sardines in here, boss." He mumbled uncomfortably, nudging Garcia's knee off his crotch.

"Sorry." The lieutenant shrugged, angling his body away from the agent. "I'm not too sweet on you, either, but we need to get this shit done."

"You couldn't find a bigger boat?" Gordon antagonized in reply, shoving Quinn's elbow off his neck.

Garcia shot him a scowl. "If you weren't such pampered, pansy asses-"

"Enough!" Quinn bellowed, pinching between his eyes, a headache threatening to erupt behind them. "Knock it off, you wankers."

"I wondered when that posh, British upbringing was going to show up." Garcia rolled his eyes, turning the wheel as they drifted closer to their destination.