Invasive Species: Part I

By Logan Pollock and Darlene

Larry Mayer is a Chemical Worker and a former Master Chief and diver. He gets a call from his old buddy, Joe Cole, to do a salvage job in Alexander Bay in upstate New York. He arrives on Sunday and meets up with Joe at Schooner Bay Hotel. They go to the old landing craft that they're using for a dive boat and he meets the young Tim Lesher. After checking out the dive gear, they go to the house of their host, Melissa Macklin then return to the hotel. Larry meets a young lady, Karen Shachtler, who is interested in diving wih him. Early the next morning he dives in Mark Five gear and hooks onto the SUV and it is winched to the surface and taken to the old boat ramp in the landing craft. The next day he runs into a treasury agent who tells him that there was 2.8 million dollars in the SUV, but he doesn't care about that.

He goes diving with Karen and he feels happy. The next morning he hears that Tim Lesher drowned. Everyone believes it was an accident.

Joe buys a charter boat and Larry sees him talking to a woman on the Canadian side. He does a couple more dives with Karen but Joe tries to discouage him from getting involved with the locals. While walking on a dark wharf with Joe, Larry gets knocked into the water by men in scuba gear. he kills one with his pistol and kills the other with his knife. He is detained by law enforement authoritiesfor two days. He heads back to Ohio and learns that Joe is a mole for the Treasury Department.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Mar 7, 2014
• ISBN: 9781490729480

Logan Pollock

Logan Pollock Born: 9/14/1956 Graduated from Kent State with a bachelor of science degree, 3/1979 Occupations: geologist, chemical worker Darlene Pollock Born: 9/24/1957 Graduated from the University of Akron, bachelor of dietetics, 6/1994 Occupations: librarian, dietitian

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Copyright 2014 Darlene and Logan Pollock.

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ISBN: 978-1-4907-2949-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4907-2948-0 (e)

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CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER ONE

1.jpg

L arry Mayer had just come home from the store. As he walked up the front steps he heard the phone ringing. This always happens when my hands are full and the door is locked, he thought as he set the bags on the porch bench. The phone stubbornly continued to ring as he took out the key and opened the door. He left the groceries and stepped inside and picked up the phone.

Hello.

Crazy Larry! What ya’ been up to? a recognizable voice asked.

Uh… being crazy, Joe. Whadda’ ya’ know? he replied.

I gotta’ job for you…

Did I say I needed a job? Larry quipped.

This is a simple salvage job. It fits you like a glove. An SUV in two hundred feet of water.

Leave it there, Larry said.

No can do. Restricted waterway and EPA fines like you wouldn’t believe. Mrs. Macklin got a letter from the Birds. Bring it up or get fined off the planet.

Where is this? Larry asked.

Alexander Bay, New York, Joe replied.

I’ve heard of that place. Not a diving hotspot. Not an anything hotspot.

It’s like Fairport, you have to have three grandparents in the cemetery or the locals ain’t talking to you. Here’s the deal, all the Shinny’s from here to New York are wanting a percentage of the fine to do the job. Mrs. M got ten grand from the insurance to write it off. I found an old LCVP with a crane, a mark five, Jake suit and everything. I sweet talked her into a free ride and three grand for you. We can get this done in a day and cash under the table, old buddy, Joe concluded.

I have things, like a job.

When can you get off?

Next week. Let’s see, that’s more than 300 miles so I can be there Sunday afternoon.

That’s great, I’ll let Melissa know. Good to have you onboard, Joe beamed.

Everything has to be secured for sea when I get there Sunday, Larry asserted.

Don’t worry, mon Kapiten, we’ll be shipshape. That’s Schooner Bay hotel, 1108 Birch way. You got a GPS?

No, I have Rand-McNally, Larry replied.

This is gonna’ be a blast and it’s full tab this time, Joe chortled.

Sometime Sunday afternoon then. Let them know I’m coming.

Roger that. Have a safe trip, Joe said.

Will do, muchachos.

Mu bien Joe said then he hung up the phone.

Joe was an old buddy from way back in torpedo school. Larry had served with him on and off for twenty two years. Abdominal surgery gone bad and contracting a respiratory disease while in the hospital had taken his fitness for diving and ended his naval career. Joe had had a difference of opinion with President Clinton. For a month, Larry just sat on the piers in Jacksonville and watched the ships sailing away without him. Then he returned (as the fictitious Captain Willard said) to work in some damn factory in Ohio. So much of the same thing seemed to happen between 1996 and 2011. The kids grew up. The kids had kids. His father and his wife died. So much he could do nothing about. Larry thought about the trip to the Turks and Caicos. Joe had booked the wrong outfit and he had to pay the right outfit or not dive. Joe sounded confident this time. Larry had the vacation time and he felt like making a trip. One of his daughters could come over every day to check on the house and water the plants for him. He got on the internet and checked the diving conditions in the Thousand Islands. No tides, no waves, no predators. Water clarity was better than Lake Erie in a lot of places. Because of the cold water, diving wasn’t especially popular there. He wrote down the addresses of the two diving stores that looked professional. He wrote himself a note to stop at this outfit in Cleveland on Thursday and get a tank filled with 32 nitrox. He would always buy something when he was there. On Saturday he would do a final check then carefully stow everything in his car and leave early Sunday morning. Everything seemed good. Even the customary August drought had finally gotten here and no rain was predicted for next week. He pulled out his old diving tables for helmet diving and read them again. He used to be able to recite them in his sleep. He would be ready. This was gonna’ be a real gilhooley he thought as he went to sleep that night.

Leaving early in the morning and taking his time, he pulled into the parking lot of Schooner Bay hotel shortly after three. A tall skinny dark haired woman, no more than twenty years old was at the desk.

Hello, I’m Larry Mayer. Joseph Cole is supposed to have booked a room for me here.

One moment, sir, she said, trying to smile at him. She looked at everything on the desk then picked up the phone.

Hello, there is a Mr. Mayer here. He says that Mr. Cole reserved a room for him… Okay, I’ll ask… Excuse me, Mr. Mayer, are you the diver?

Yes, I am, Larry replied.

Yes, he is the diver… Yes, I understand… Certainly… Very good, Mrs. Macklin.

She set down the phone.

I’m sorry to keep you waiting. We have a very nice room on the ground floor. It’s drive-up and has a small kitchen and a closet. Would you like to see it? she asked.

Yes, Larry replied.

She put a sign on the desk and pulled out a card key.

This way, she said, smiling.

They walked down a hallway to the right. There was a slight scent of flowers and the place looked spotless. The room had access to the hallway. To the left was a swimming pool, hot tubs and an indoor track. Quite a bit different than the palm hut they stayed in last time, he thought.

She put the card key into the slot and opened the door.

Do you know how long you’ll be staying?

Hard telling right now, Larry replied as they entered.

The kitchen was on one side of the short hallway and the bathroom was on the other side. The bedroom was in the front.

It’s like an apartment. There is a refrigerator, a sink and a stove. Mrs. Macklin says you do not smoke.

No, I don’t, Larry answered.

There is a pool and hot tubs for this wing. This is the quiet side. No families over here. Is this room satisfactory? she asked.

Yes, very good, he replied.

Parking is right out front. If there is anything you need, please let us know. My name is Gloria.

Thank you, Gloria. If you see Mister Cole, send him over, please, he requested.

Certainly, and meals are on the house.

Very good, Larry said.

Enjoy your stay.

Thank you.

Gloria left via the backdoor and closed it. Larry left by the front door and parked his Nissan in front of the room. A porter came by and insisted on carrying his bags and his air tanks into the room. He gave him five dollars.

After familiarizing himself with the room, he looked at the map in the hotel directory. At five after four there was knocking at the door.

Enter, Larry said.

How did you know I wasn’t the neighborhood rapist? Joe joked.

If you were, I’d send you to Gloria.

They got you all set up here? he asked.

Roger that, Larry replied.

You wanna’ see the boat?

Yes, and I want to see an Expedition. The exact same model and year,

We have some cargo slings and shackles onboard. If you can think of anything else, let me know. We’ll take my truck, Joe offered.

Start up the truck, Jethro, Larry quipped as they went out the door.

After leaving town, they drove about a mile and a half. The landing craft wasn’t docked near the marina as he would have thought.

Somebody took this car water skiing? Larry quipped.

No, they drove it onto the ice, Joe replied.

The driver is still in there? he asked.

No, fortunately he jumped when it started going through. We docked here because this is the closest point. They turned down a gravel road and came to a wooden dock. The LCVP was the only boat docked there. He could see that a crane had been fitted. A tall skinny man in his early twenties was coiling a hose on the dock. Joe stopped the truck next to him and they got out. The man stopped and looked at them.

Tim, this is my old friend, Larry Mayer, he introduced them.

Nice meeting you, Larry said, shaking his hand.

You’re the diver? Tim asked.

Yes, I am.

Tim looked at him quizzically.

I’ll show you the lay of her. What time would you like to shove off, Joe asked.

If everything checks out, 0600, Larry replied.

They both looked at him surprised now.

Bless your heart! You haven’t changed one damn bit. Fall in by 0600 and fuck the admiral by 1200, Joe quipped.

Larry followed him up the gangway to the afterdeck.

Not daddy’s version. When they bought it years ago the armor plating and engine were stripped out. The hull is original and still sound. They made them good in those days. That little V8 pushes it along at 6 knots. It has a modified low gear transmission to run the crane. The diving stage is operated by that jib crane, Joe explained.

A small doghouse had been built of plywood to shelter the pilot in bad weather.

Has that Tim ever tended a diver?

No, he is pretty good mechanically. He can help while I dress you. The diving gear is in that box, he said, pointing to a big plywood box. There was a hasp but no lock on the box. Larry lifted the lid. Underneath a canvas was two folded up diving suits. He removed them and checked the numbers on the right arm. The first one he checked indicated the suit was for a man 5 feet 11 inches to 6 feet one inch tall. He carefully unfolded the suit and looked at it from the top down. He checked the rubber gasket collar, carefully examining the holes and looking for any cracking that would mean the rubber was perishing. Joe let him take his time and said nothing. Tim came onboard and Joe looked his way. The clutch is starting to slip. The pressure plate is getting worn, Tim informed him.

Get some of that clutch spray and spray both sides. That should hold it for this job, Joe said.

Tim just nodded his head and left. It took fifteen minutes to examine the suit as he had been taught in torpedo school years ago.

I want to hang this up, he said, turning to Joe.

There’s room in the doghouse, Joe said.

I want a lock on that and a lock on this, Larry requested.

If you like, I can get that, no problem, Joe said.

They went to the doghouse and rigged up a hanger for the Jake suit. When they went back, Larry looked at the Wisconsin engine for the compressor.

We might as well check this now, Larry said.

Tim man, let’s start it up here, Joe ordered.

I don’t know how much gas it has in it, Tim replied.

Let’s find out now, Joe snapped.

Tim came down and looked at the engine then took off the gas cap and looked in with a flashlight.

It’s nearly full, he informed them.

It’s the only air I have. Have a full can of gas aboard before we leave tomorrow and I want that breathing oxygen cylinder upright and secured before we leave. Fill this tank. I want to leak test it before we leave, also, Larry ordered.

Joe nodded to Tim and he began cranking the engine. It fired up and ran reasonably well. They filled the tank to 300 psi. Larry checked the regulators and valves on the compressor. He removed the Mark 5 helmet from the box and attached the air hose to it. He checked the airflow in the helmet and the workings of the exhaust valve. He checked the telephone connection and the lifeline. It took more than two hours to check everything. In torpedo school, the sign above the door read-’The price of carelessness is death’. Larry had learned a long time ago to not be careless.

Tim had left and came back with ten gallons of gasoline, locks and some other items requested.

After examining the diving equipment, they examined the salvage equipment. The crane had a ten foot boom and a five ton capacity. Larry considered that barely adequate for the task at hand, but Joe was confident that it would work. A hand operated jib crane would raise and lower him on the diving stage. Tim seemed to be getting bored with the proceedings. Joe requested that he spend the night at the dock and lay off drinking. The sun was near setting when Joe locked the doghouse and the diving box. They left the dock in Joe’s truck. He told Larry that they were going to Melissa’s house where there was a similar Ford Expedition.

Naturally Mrs. M lived in the best neighborhood and right on the shore of the river. When they got there, they went to the door. A housekeeper told them that Mrs. M was not at home at that time. Joe told her that they were there to examine the SUV. The housekeeper seemed to have no objections. Larry got down on his back and got as far under the vehicle as he could.

There are some holes through the frame. Those half inch shackles should work fine. Four of them should be enough to raise it, even out of the water. Do you know how it’s laying? Larry asked.

No idea. We located it by dragging. Nobody has been down there, Joe replied.

What color is it?

White, like this one. Why, are you particular about color? Joe quipped.

You may have hooked something else. I want to be sure when I get down there, Larry replied as he got out from under the car.

Are you nervous? Joe asked.

Why, there’s no waves, very little current. No predators or poisonous fish. This is like the submarine tank in New London, provided you guys aren’t fucking up topside.

Don’t worry about that. I’ll kill Tim if he tries to sleep, Joe assured him.

We might as well get some supper and hit the sack, Larry suggested.

You want a drink? Joe asked.

No, not if I’m diving, Larry said.

You must be the designated diver, Joe quipped as he opened the truck door.

Unless somebody else volunteers, Larry said as he got in the truck.

Larry observed the scenery as they drove back to the hotel. A handicapped person in a wheelchair was going down the middle of the road.

You have those here too, Larry said.

What do you do to them?

I would like to give them a push, Larry quipped.

All the way back to Ohio?

If I get like that you can run me over, Larry said.

You never left too many fucked up. You finished the job on them, Joe said.

So they can’t get on Al Jazeera and cry about what a wonderful man he was. Kill the whole damn bunch and all they can do is photograph dead bodies.

I told Mrs. M that you do a thorough job, Joe said, smiling.

I’m not a damn gardener.

She really wants to meet you, I think, Joe said.

It’s not like I’m hiding, he remarked.

Joe pulled up in front of his room and they went in to get washed up. He changed into casual clothes. He hadn’t brought any dinner clothes anyway. They went to the dining room and were seated right away. The buffet was open so they didn’t order. A young lady came from the bar and asked them if they wanted anything to drink. Joe ordered a whiskey sour. Four young women came in and sat at the next table. Joe bought