"Aye. The laws were amended, an' we've a'ready begun talks wi' two construction firms. As for the monster hunters, we've selected the three most qualified captains an' vessels as ye requested, an' if ye don't like these, we've applications from forty tae fifty more. Everyone from local fishermen tae computer geeks tae ex-Royal Navy wants tae be here."

"Three's plenty. Anymore and they start tripping over one another."

"That's already happenin', I'm afraid. Many have dropped sonar buoys, an' the signals are crossin', foulin' one another up."

"I'll handle them. I've dealt with their types before."

Hollifield led him down a carpeted hallway to the adjoining banquet room. "Be fair warned, there're also a few curators here who insisted on bein' at this meetin'. One's from the Smithsonian, the other two work at the British Museum of Natural History. Treat them kindly, they can make waves."

"Understood."

They entered the Observation Lounge, a banquet room offering panoramic views of Loch Ness and the pier where several large research vessels were now docked. A portable corkboard on wheels was positioned near the head of the conference table, a map of Loch Ness pinned to its surface.

Five men and two women milled about the buffet tables, helping themselves to an early dinner.

Hollifield took his place before the head of the table, David on his right. "Gentlemen and ladies, if ye please."

The expedition leaders and museum curators took their seats.

"This is Dr. Caldwell, the gentleman whom Council has appointed tae organize our search. Dr. Caldwell, our Nessie hunters; Michael Hoagland from the German research vessel, Nothosaur, Scott an' Debbie Sloan, American cryptozoologists wi' the Galon, an' Bill Plager, a marine biologist serving aboard the fifty-seven-foot ship, Great White North."

"A pleasure. Now I know you have some grievances you want to discuss, but before we get into that, let's talk about our objective. You, and dozens of Nessie hunters before you have spent several decades and untold thousands of dollars chasing after underwater photos and sonar recordings. Now all that's changed. With the monster's sudden thirst for blood, I think it's safe to say something large inhabits Loch Ness. In other words, we've got the proof, it's lying in the morgue, what we want now is to capture the beast."

Scott Sloan scoffed. "Capture it? Aren't you being rather presumptuous, and more than a bit melodramatic? For one, who said anything about a thirst for blood?" He looked at his wife, who nodded.

"Scott's right. And besides, how do you capture something that's so elusive, we've yet to get a decent photo of it in over seventy years?"

David winked at the provost. "My skeptics said the same thing about the Giant Squid. The game's changed, folks, deal with it. For whatever reason, Nessie's no longer satisfied with feeding in the deep. She's become a real meat eater."