The man at her side was the biggest reason — in more ways than one. She was finding it increasingly hard to maintain a strictly professional relationship with him, especially since their relentless days and months of crazy exploits had ended. What she needed was a distraction. Something that would focus her mind on work.
Of course it didn’t help with Karin and Komodo making constant lame excuses to disappear together. Or with Torsten Dahl’s brooding. The Swede was already having second thoughts about switching jobs, but kept them mostly to himself.
Gates put the phone down at last. Every eye in the room turned to him.
“Drake’s plane was shot down by the Koreans. Not officially, of course. But the bastards claim they were protecting their territory from an unidentified attack. There’s a lot of tiptoeing around to be done before we decide what to do.”
Dahl slammed a desk with his fist. Hayden butted in quickly before the Swede could say anything stupid. “The Koreans aren’t supposed to have anything that would detect that plane flying at that height, Mr. Secretary.”
Gates shrugged. “Dai Hibiki’s message warned of ‘futuristic arms,’ I believe.”
“What can we do?” Ben spoke up, fingers hovering over his keyboard.
“Nothing with that thing.” Dahl growled. “We need to send a team in. Now. Our brothers are in danger.”
“Politically—” Gates emphasized the word. “We must wait. Besides, Drake and Mai are pretty capable. And we didn’t send ’em along with a bunch of cheerleaders. Those were Force Recon marines.”
Alicia had listened to it all perched on the end of a desk. Now she pushed off. “Drake would lead a team,” she said. “He’d do it for you. For any of us.”
Gates’s eyes were hollow. “The old Drake might have. The new Drake seems a little different. I may not be a soldier, but I do share some experience with him. I think he’d never again make that promise to save anyone.”
Alicia paused. She didn’t remind anyone that she’d also lost someone recently. It wouldn’t help anything. Besides, the American had a point. Drake was a changed man.
“So let’s help him another way,” Hayden said whilst the argument paused. “How does a squeaky-clean American man with no previous convictions end up attempting to assassinate a senator? Riddle me that.”
“And how does it all link to the North Koreans and Dai Hibiki’s transmission?” Kinimaka added.
Hayden started the video of the shooting yet again. “Let’s get to work.”
“I think we need take-out.” Karin looked around innocently at Komodo. “Wanna drive me round the corner?”
The Delta man had the grace to look slightly embarrassed as he whispered, “I’ll do my best.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Drake shouted a warning. Romero and Smyth shot up, staring wildly around. The bulk drifted closer, on a collision course, and now Drake recognized it as a piece of smashed wing.
“Paddle!” Drake cried
The marines suddenly remembered their oars and dug them hard into the calm waters. The light craft responded immediately, shifting its course sharply, but the wing loomed over them, a dark, dead force that could capsize them without malice or concern.
Drake ducked. Part of the wing, angled out of the water, grazed the top of his head. The Zodiac skimmed out of its shadow a second before the two masses collided.
The three soldiers sat in silence, watching the remains of their plane float away. Romero finally took a swig of water, chewed on some remaining rations and motioned at Smyth.
“Keep paddling. No one else is gonna save our asses.”
Drake forced himself to stay alert. It was too easy to let the unending vastness lull him and drain him of all hope and motivation. If they kept busy, they had a better chance at survival. Lethargy, after all, helps kill the brain. He occupied himself studying the constellations, inventorying their meager possessions, and checking the Zodiac for bumps and scrapes. When full light came, he would dive overboard to check the bottom. Silently, he knew they all hoped and prayed there wouldn’t be another storm. This part of the world was renowned for its cyclones, a weather anomaly that would truly wipe them off the face of the earth.
Daylight came quickly. The soldiers and Drake did their best to keep the craft heading north where, they’d reasoned, lay the nearest body of land and their only chance of ever stepping foot on terra firma again. More visitors began to glide around them, visitors from the pitiless deep. Long white shapes cruised underneath the boat, triangular fins occasionally cleaving at the surface.
Drake was the first to overcome his fear and wonder aloud, “Anyone know how to fish?”
Romero shrugged. “I fished a little. You would need a lure, a line and a hook. You got a hook?”
“We sure have line,” Drake told him, indicating the guide ropes. “And we could use your blood as a lure.”
“My blood?”
“Why not? My Yorkshire blood’s tainted, y’ know. Too many fish and chips. The scent would put ’em off.”
Smyth shook his head, offering a tight smile. “Couldn’t we just shoot one of the mothers?”
Drake thought of the single handgun secreted in the storage bag. “That might be needed to fend off larger predators yet. That’s our last resort.”
Smyth eyed the waters speculatively. “Larger predators? What the hell are you expecting? The Kraken?”
“Of the non-gilled variety.” Drake smiled without humor. He took his turn at the paddles whilst Romero rested, donning the anti-glare specs and trying to ignore the smell of sweat that clung around his body. Didn’t matter how many salt-baths you took, there was no replacing good old-fashioned soap.
The sun beat down, a harsh non-stop glare. Drake kept an eye to the skies, hoping for a brief shower, anything to top up their dwindling supplies, but there was no respite from the endless pounding of the sun’s rays. By mid-afternoon a fair bluster had whipped up, thrashing at the seas and sending several unpredictable waves their way. Drake and the two marines quit talking. There seemed no end to the monotony, no release from the torture.
And always they tracked north, sometimes sent astray by the currents or the prevailing winds, but incessantly north. Drake realized after a while that the lack of chatter was more than worrying, it was bordering on deadly.
“Hey!” He pushed himself to his knees and shook the other two. “Hey. Who the hell do ya think shot us down, anyway?”
Romero snapped out of his somnolence straight away. “They told us the plane couldn’t be detected. Bullshit.”
Drake shook Smyth again. “You alright, mate?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Smyth said irritably, coming around. “You pulled me out of a damn fine dream, man.”
“You’re welcome,” Drake said pointedly. “Now. The North Koreans, right? Goes without saying — but what on earth do they have to hide?”
“Are you kidding?” Smyth snorted. “They carry out nuclear tests more often than Tribune reruns Friends. Course they got something to hide.”
Drake nodded. “Yes. But this is a secret island with links to the U.S. And they shoot us out of the sky without even gloating about it first?”
Romero cast his gaze around. “Well once we get our asses back on land where they belong, we can all go back to being soldiers again.”
Drake watched as the day began to diminish. A blackness began to seep down the western horizon. The north, for now, remained vivid — brilliant light shimmering around scudding clouds. The low mass out there, at first, went unnoticed, and even when Drake’s eyes focused on it, they didn’t quite comprehend what they were seeing.
Then the message reached his brain.
“Paddle!” he shouted, almost screamed, his throat husky and raw. “Look!”
Romero and Smyth sprang into action, marines again, recognizing a last chance when they saw one. Drake glued his eyes firmly to the prize, spirits rising at every stroke with which they swept themselves nearer. The land mass formed into rock and a sweep of sandy beach and stands of dense trees. It felt like he held his breath the entire hour it took them to paddle there.
By then visibility was low. But there was no mistaking the presence of hills and high rocks — the promise of safety.
There were no expletives passionate enough for the trio as they let the boat drift finally into the shallows. Rarely had Drake felt such a sense of utter relief wash over him.
Then he saw the black shape waiting for them, moored on the beach.
“Oh my…”
The second Zodiac. And Mai sitting cross-legged in the sand beside it, a bewildered expression on her fair face. “Drake? Where the fuck have you been?”