Hunt watched the Cuban coastline looming in the windshield. “Lucky for us it looks like the coastline is deserted here.”
“Yeah, we don’t need to get pulled over by the Cuban Coast Guard. I hear the jails aren’t all that nice here.”
“Probably not as accomodating as a good ol’ Navy ship’s brig, I’ll give you that.”
“That beach looks so inviting,” Maddy said, “it makes me just want to lay out and dry off.”
Hunt looked ahead as the float plane entered the outskirts of a wide-mouthed cove. “Looks like we’re going to land up on the beach on the west side of the cove there, right before the point.”
“Topless bathing is likely permitted here,” Jayden said while Hunt picked up a pair binoculars and brought them to his eyes.
Maddy’s acerbic reply was cut short by Hunt’s warning from behind the binoculars. “Looks like we’ve got company. Fast boat coming around the point. Looks military. We’ve got to go.”
Maddy bit her lip. “Shouldn’t we wait to see if it’s someone who might be able to help us?”
“No.” This was said by both Hunt and Jayden in unison. “Policia,” Hunt declared, dropping the optics.
“Do they have air patrols? How’d they find us so quick — there’s nobody here!” Jayden wondered.
“Maddy, do you have the scroll?” was all Hunt had to say. She nodded, clutching at her backpack. “I do.”
“Not that I don’t respect the law,” Hunt said, cinching his backpack straps tight, “but in this case it would behoove us to avoid all contact until we can sort things out.”
“I had a teacher who used to say ‘behoove us’ a lot,” Jayden felt the need to chime in with.
“I hope he or she also taught you how to listen,” Hunt said, “because this is important: we’re only going to get one chance at this.” Hunt pointed at a palm tree-studded forest behind the beach as the whine of the police boat motor rang louder in their ears.
“One chance at what?” Maddy asked, fear etched into her every facial feature.
“At turning this plane into a glider so we can get out of here.”
Chapter 33
Hunt could see that both Jayden and Maddy thought he was few sandwiches short of a picnic.
“The stress is finally getting to you, isn’t old buddy?” Jayden cast a nervous glance back at the rapidly approaching Cuban police boat.
But Hunt’s gaze was unwavering, his voice level. “No time to explain step by step, so first things first: It’s a fast powerful boat, but with only two officers on it. We need to take control of that boat, hopefully without seriously hurting anyone, including ourselves.”
Hunt allowed a precious second to tick by while his friends absorbed the verbal bombshell.
“You want us to hijack a Cuban police boat? I have to say, Carter, I know I said your idea of vacation was a little boring, but I take that all back now, okay? I take it back.”
“It’s our only chance, the way I see it,” Hunt said. “We could try to run into that jungle there, but they’d probably shoot us before we even got across the beach. Not to mention…then what? We’re on foot in the jungle with barely any gear, no food and water, hunted by the police?”
Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a male voice through a loud-hailer speaking Spanish. Hunt recognized the word alto and manos, but that was more than enough to know what they wanted. But then, as if to remove all doubts, the message was repeated again, this time in perfect, although accented, English. “Attention: persons on aircraft, stop your vehicle and step out onto the pontoons with your hands up. Do it now!”
“Only two of us come out.” Hunt hissed. “Jayden — you and Maddy step out with your hands up. Maddy, we need a distraction. Take your shirt off. You two act like lovebirds just having fun in the middle of nowhere caught with your proverbial pants down.”
“Sounds good,” Jayden said, winking at Maddy, who rolled her eyes.
“You two are my distraction,” Hunt said, keeping things focused as the plane began to rock with the waves caused by the oncoming patrol vessel. “But as soon as I have control of the boat, I’ll need your help.”
The loud-hailer boomed again, and this time there was a warning shot fired into the air.
“Go!” Hunt said, staying low below the windows while Jayden emerged first with his hands up. Maddy already had her T-shirt off. She turned around, facing away from Hunt out of modesty before removing her bikini top. Then she stepped outside onto the same pontoon as Jayden, her hands also in the air.
The patrol boat slowed as it drew alongside the sea-plane, the driver allowing a distance of ten feet as a buffer, not knowing what to expect. The other man on board, a middle-aged Cuban in a police uniform but brandishing an automatic weapon, trained his firearm on Jayden and Maddy. Hunt watched from a concealed position in the back of the plane, peeking out from beneath the parachute. He saw the gunman smile upon seeing Maddy, and then turn back to say something along with a healthy dose of laughter to his associate in the driver’s seat.
Seeing that it wasn’t going to get much better than this, if at all, Hunt made his move. Coil of rope in hand, he crawled to the opposite door that Jayden and Maddy had exited from while hearing the police continue to bark through the loudspeaker about not moving and keeping their hands up while the boat was pulled into position alongside the plane, as Hunt was hoping.
No noise, no noise, he told himself as he took a deep breath and then slipped into the water head first without making so much as a ripple. He kept his eyes open despite the sting of the warm saltwater, because for this to work he would need to see, even if in blurred fashion. The former Navy man swam underneath the seaplane, deep enough not to break the surface between the two floats where the body was raised up from the water, but not so deep as to lose track of where he was.
He surfaced near the front of the floatplane, behind the prop. There, he looped one end of the rope around the starboard side support strut. Then, he very quietly stealth swam underneath the plane, between the pontoons. To the port side, which was where Jayden and Maddy stood on the pontoon, hence a risky place to be. He quickly wound the rope around that strut also, creating a crude harness, the same idea as a water-ski tow-rope. That done, he grabbed another deep breath and slipped once again below the water’s surface.
Hunt swam toward the boat, utilizing a smooth breast stroke that propelled him through the water with a minimal amount of exertion and disturbance of the surrounding water. He glanced down and saw the silvery sparkle of a school of fish, the ocean bottom not visible to his blurry vision without a mask.
When he saw the underside of the patrol boat, he angled his body so that he swam deeper, knowing that all attention would be focused on this side of the plane, where Jayden and Maddy stood on the pontoon at automatic gunpoint. He passed beneath the hull of the police boat, glancing up as he passed under it to ensure he had sufficient clearance. By the time he reached the other side of the boat, the need to breathe was strong. But still he swam, maneuvering for the stern end of the boat, where he had noticed a boarding ladder earlier.
Easy breaking the surface, he reminded himself, aware that even a small splash would bring unwanted attention. He slowed his pace as he ascended, reaching a hand out of the water first to steady himself against the side of the boat. He knew that most boats had stainless steel hooks in the back made for towing or lifting them out of the water, and as he eyeballed the stern from the water he was relieved to see that this was in fact one of them.
Hunt could hear that the conversation between the police and Jayden, who was doing most of the talking, was starting to move past the wow-factor of Maddy’s toplessness and into more serious business. He felt the plane rock a little and thought perhaps one of the policemen might have stepped on a pontoon to board it, but then heard Jayden say, “Okay, we’ll get onto the boat, just don’t shoot.”