Natural Instinct

Chapter One

A topless blue Jeep, with bright yellow NOAA’s National Marine Fisheries Services magnets on both sides, careened into the pier parking lot and skidded to a stop in one of the twenty vacant spots. The driver quickly put the gearshift in first gear and set the parking brake, grabbed a black neoprene backpack from the backseat, and hopped out. She covered her short blond hair with a black ball cap sporting the same yellow logo as the magnets on the Jeep. The sun was barely coming up over the ocean, so she wasn’t able to cover her gorgeous green eyes just yet. She hurried towards the awaiting dive boat at the end of the long dock, trying not to trip and break her neck because of the flip flops on her feet.

Running a little late this morning, Chan? the driver of the boat called out to her as she untied the last dock line and jumped aboard. How’s Kaylie? he asked when she ignored him. His shaggy brown hair stuck out from the sides of his ballcap, and his face could’ve used a shave two days ago. He was semi-muscular, but very lean for his almost six-foot-tall frame. His black swim trunks and white polo shirt matched the outfit the blond woman was wearing. Both of their shirts and shorts had the same NOAA NMFS yellow logo as their hats. His flip flops even matched hers, although they weren’t company issued like the rest of their attire.

She stowed her backpack in the tiny cuddy cabin and sat on the captains’ chair next to him. Don’t start, Blake, she huffed. She’s fine. Her five-and-a-half-foot tall frame had all the right feminine features mixed with well-toned muscle. She was built like a swimmer and had the tan to prove she spent a lot of time in the water.

Did you at least stop for coffee? he asked as he maneuvered the boat out into the open water.

Shit! She smacked her hand on the side of the boat. I left it in the Jeep, she laughed and shook her head. This was turning out to be a wonderful day.

"Well, I’d say it could be worse, but knowing you, Chan, if I say that, it will get worse." He smiled and kept chugging the boat along while she opened the waterproof charts and began going over her notes from the day before.

***

Chandler Scott was a Marine Biologist for NOAA’s National Marine Fisheries Services. She was given an assignment to do a Recovery Plan Project on Sea Turtles. Since sea turtles and dolphins were her specialty, she jumped on the opportunity. She’d been working at Sea World helping on a few dolphin projects that NOAA Fisheries had her assigned to for close to a year, and this was the break she was looking for. On top of that, the project was taking place out of the Florida Keys, so she could finally be close to the beach again. Since Sea World was in Orlando, Florida and in the center of the state she very rarely saw the ocean. The whole purpose of taking the position with NOAA Fisheries in Orlando was to be close to the water again, instead of being stuck in a lab in New York, where she’d been for the past three years since she’d graduated from college with her PHD in Marine Biology.

***

Blake Duncan stopped the boat when the GPS began beeping to announce that he’d arrived at his destination, a small reef a half mile off the Southeastern tip of Key West, Florida. Blake was a Marine Life Researcher, meaning he only had a bachelor’s degree. He had never actually become a biologist. The title didn’t suit him much anyway; neither did another four years of school. So, he took to being the biologist’s assistant, or in his own terms, ‘research bitch’. He was offered the position of Dr. Scott’s assistant since he already lived in Key West and worked out of the local NOAA Marine Science Center.

***

Six months into the project, they were rounding the most critical area of their research. The information-gathering stage was almost complete and Sea Turtle mating season was set to start in less than a week. Chandler and Blake spent all of March and April preparing underwater and land cameras in various reef and beach areas, as well as taking seaweed samples. The mating season ran from May to August, with June and July being the prime months. The Loggerhead Sea Turtle was the most common in their area and tended to lay eggs anywhere from one to seven different times and as close as fourteen days apart.

Chandler and Blake needed to be ready to observe this entire phase and document as much of the event as they could, then they’d continue to watch the nests and the female turtles as they left the area. For the next year, they were supposed to watch the hatchlings finally leave the beach and observe their movements once they reached the ocean. This entire three-year assignment was to find the cause for the Sea Turtles becoming a Threatened Species and, in some cases, Endangered Species and develop a plan to recover the Species in this area. Various projects of this stature were going on in other locations around the globe in a worldwide Recovery Act to save the Eight Species of Sea Turtles.  Being able to head up a project of this magnitude was a major career boost for Chandler.

***

She stripped her polo shirt and swim trunks off and stuffed them in her backpack. She was wearing a two-piece black bikini underneath. Chandler quickly put her skin-tight rash guard top on and squirmed into her black shorty-style wetsuit with short sleeves and half legs. The water was tropical, so she definitely didn’t have to worry about freezing. The only reason she wore the wetsuit to begin with was because of NOAA’s safety regulations. She tested her dive tank regulator and rinsed her face mask and snorkel in the water. Then, she attached the small underwater camera to her weight belt, put the dive mask over her eyes and nose, and waved at Blake before tipping backwards off the side of the twenty-foot boat. His job was to document everything that she told him and collect the specimens when she came back to the surface. Chandler would dive to the bottom of the twenty-foot-deep reef and take pictures first, then come up and exchange the camera for sample bottles and tongs. She’d go back down and retrieve bits and pieces of the seaweed and algae. They did this in various locations three days a week. The other two days were spent sitting in the research lab of the NOAA Marine Science Center.

***

An hour later, Chandler popped up on the surface. She climbed up on the dive platform on the back of the boat and stripped her tank off. Blake took the camera and put it back in its case and brought her a fresh oxygen tank so she could switch hers out since the one she was using was close to being empty.

How’s it looking? he asked. It had been two months since they were last at this particular reef collecting samples.

Not bad, I saw some new growth I want to check out. This is definitely an eating spot. I got some good shots of the tracks on the bottom. It’s hard to tell how many or how often, I’m hoping the samples will show that. She rinsed her mask.

I saw you have 1822B marked for examination today.

Yeah, remember me telling you about those odd lines in the sand on the bottom?

Oh yeah, that’s the day the camera quit on us. We couldn’t get the shots.

I know. Luckily, we have two now. Anyway, I want to check them out again. It’s only a hunch but it was very similar to chain drag lines. The fishermen aren’t supposed to be dragging this shallow, especially not over a reef.

Holy shit, that’s a major fine if they are.

I know. She shrugged. Either way, we need to photograph that reef, so I added it today. She wiggled her eyebrows at him and put her dive mask back on. With a swift wave of her hand, she tipped back off the side and splashed into the water once more.

***

Chandler tossed her backpack in the backseat and climbed into her Jeep. Blake’s little Toyota truck was parked a few spaces away. They’d arrived at the dock just after three p.m., but it was close to four by the time they rinsed off the boat and refueled it. They had to stow their gear and lock everything up as well. Chandler would drop the film and the specimen bottles off at the lab to be processed the next morning and Blake would take the oxygen tanks to be refilled for their next trip.

Blake waved as he pulled out of the parking lot ahead of her. Chandler shifted gears and followed him towards Flagler Avenue. He turned off onto a side street just as her cell phone rang. She fumbled while answering the obnoxious device and down shifting to go around a turn at the same time.

Chapter Two

Chandler Scott, she said, accomplishing her task without running anyone over.

Hi Dr. Scott, this is Andrew Barnes with NOAA NMFS.

Hi Mr. Barnes, what can I do for you? A call from headquarters was completely unexpected, so she pulled off to the side of the road in case she needed to take notes or perhaps discuss the findings in the latest report she’d submitted.

I’m calling to alert you of our latest development in your program. The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service is sending a biologist out to work with you. I was told to inform you as soon as possible. He should be arriving at the lab in the morning.

She wanted to toss her phone on the black top and run it over. She held her temper. Do you know his credentials? She had every right to ask, this was her project, and had been for the past year and a half and would be for the next year and a half.

Uh… She heard the man fumbling with papers. Corey Joslen. Dr. Joslen is a biologist working for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. He’s been heading up a research project on the Olive Ridley Sea Turtle.

Okay? The Olive Ridley has nothing to do with us, we pretty much see only Loggerheads here.

That is very true, however the U.S. FWS is funding part of the Recovery Plan Act—

She cut him off. Meaning they can send whoever they want to spy on me, am I right? She didn’t hide the frustration in her tone.

I know this is a slight damper to your routine. I’m sure he won’t be in your way. He’s simply being sent to help with the research.

She blew out a deep breath. NOAA NMFS is still the lead on this job, right?

Oh yes, of course. Dr. Scott, you’re in charge of this Recovery Plan. Dr. Joslen is only coming aboard to help because he’s familiar with Sea Turtle research, it may not be the same species, but I’m sure his expertise will be beneficial to your team.

My team? She thought to herself. It’s me and Blake, that’s my goddamn team. She was beyond irritated. Stupid ass pencil pusher sitting at a fucking desk wouldn’t know a turtle from a dolphin if I shoved it up his ass! Okay, Mr. Barnes. I’m looking forward to meeting him. I think he will definitely be an asset to me out here. Thanks.

No problem. He’ll be there at eight. The line went dead. She slammed her phone closed.

Eight! He’s lucky we’re not on the water tomorrow. Hmm... She thought about calling Blake and