Tijuana. Deep Pond.
Actually, just a small port, cruise ships and assault craft usually docked here, and it was bustling with tourists. But after the war began, it was requisitioned, and no one was allowed to approach.
And now...
A group of people on the shore, either sitting or standing, were identifiable by their badges as journalists from various countries.
A gantry crane loomed over them, with a very long rope attached. Looking closely, you could see a person hanging from it, head down, babbling loudly in a foreign language that no one understood.
Below, several sharks swam about, occasionally raising their heads and opening their gory, gaping jaws.
"Ah!!!"
Suddenly the rope slackened, and the person in mid-air, screaming, plummeted down with a splash larger than the Philippine diving team could make. The shark, as if startled, charged towards the victim with teeth and claws bared.
Ripping!
Devouring!
Blood began to bubble and froth in the water...
