Two helicopters hovered and maneuvered for airspace at the ship’s prow. Ricci shouted and rope ladders were unfurled, swinging in the air and tapping against the front rail. Within two seconds he had caught one and ordered two men up, guns already poised. The second chopper was treated similarly. Alicia sighted on the highest terrorist.
“Hey!”
Her attention was drawn to the deck, where Crouch and Terri kneeled, guns to their heads.
“If you shoot, they die,”
“If they die, you die!” she countered.
“But we don’t care.”
She’d heard it before, and knew they meant it. Life was but a pivotal step to these fanatics, and they believed they were being blessed for their actions. Crouch and Terri were dragged toward the ropes.
“This can’t go on,” she said. “We have to stop this. I mean, where will it end?”
“Depends where they’re going. Look, they’re dragging the banner up now.”
Alicia watched as the banner was locked into a cradle and hauled up alongside the ladder. Ricci climbed with it, keeping it all flowing.
The men holding Crouch and Terri ordered them up next and kept their guns aimed the whole way. From inside the chopper, more guns protruded. Alicia fought to stay motionless in the face of the rotor wash, covering her head and eyes as one of the helicopters lost altitude and then powered back upward. To the port side she saw Caitlyn and Austin and their agents creeping forward.
Two terrorists remained on board. The coastguard vessel was alongside, bellowing orders at the tanker through a tannoy. Men were on deck, dressed in military fatigues and ready to jump into action. The police choppers were filling the skies to the right. The entire might of the authorities was converging on the oil tanker.
The last terrorists then started climbing. A rogue agent must have lined one of the men up and not realized what was at stake because, right then, he opened fire. The terrorist screamed and fell backward off the ladder, striking the deck and leaking blood.
He lay unmoving.
Alicia cringed, prepared to run and fire and hope for the best. Ricci leaned out of the lead bird, face livid. He had Crouch by the neck and dragged him until he was halfway out of the chopper, the upper part of his body sticking out, held up by Ricci’s grip. The powerful terrorist held a revolver to the top of Crouch’s head.
“You were fucking warned!”
“No!” Alicia set off at a sprint.
“I warned you. Shoot one of us and we shoot one of you. This is your fault.”
It always is…
Ricci squeezed the trigger of his gun. Alicia saw Crouch’s face twist in agony, barely breathing, unmoving, but his body didn’t jerk with an impact, and his face didn’t spasm as Ricci hauled him back in.
“Next one won’t miss.”
Alicia heaved a sigh of utter relief. Her knuckles had been squeezed into pure white fists, her heart pounding as if she’d run a marathon. Ricci threw Crouch down on the floor and disappeared. By now, all the remaining terrorists were on board.
The choppers roared as if preparing to swoop away.
Alicia saw the end coming. What could they do now?
Then it did come. But not in a way she could ever have imagined.
Michael Crouch heaved his pain-wracked, bruised and battered body once more through the doorway of the first chopper, hanging on with one hand, and screamed out a terrible warning:
“They rigged it to blow! The whole fucking tanker! Move! Move now!”
CHAPTER FORTY
That terrible cry and those hellish words changed everything.
Alicia felt bombarded, stunned. For a moment the world turned, and people screamed but she couldn’t think of anything to do. The terrorist choppers were already swooping away. The police choppers were drifting in. The coastguard vessel was alongside.
Agents were standing all over the deck.
She couldn’t imagine how bad it would be.
We’ve always been a step behind. This leader, this Ricci, has planned every last detail; even the ones that may go wrong.
After so much chasing… it would end so hard.
Vino was already on the airwaves, warning the choppers and the coastguard. It was the abrupt change in the helicopter’s engines that spurred Alicia’s brain into action. That, and Russo’s shouting in her ear and, more importantly than any of that; the shocking, unprecedented slap on the ass that Russo suddenly dealt out.
“Earth to Alicia! Get a fucking move on!”
On any other day she’d have taken pleasure in breaking the offender in two, but today she understood immediately why Russo had done what he did. He knew it would get through to her, simple as that. He knew her rather well.
They raced for the closest railing and peered over. Alicia took the time to check on Caitlyn and Austin, saw them balancing already on the second rail of the three-rail safety barrier. Agents were leaping to the left and right of them, arms outstretched in the air.
Russo paused at the edge. “That’s a long bloody way down.”
“Think yourself lucky it’s not a proper tanker. They’re twice as high.”
“Still it’s… a hundred feet?”
“Who gives a fuck? Jump, Robster, jump!”
She barely slowed, running at and then leaping onto the second rail, seeing the choppers swooping low and away to her right and the coastguard ship desperately coming about and speeding away. She vaulted from the second rung and, still running, sprang out into thin air.
Russo was a second behind.
Falling fast, she made sure to tuck her feet and arms in and to angle her body for the best entry. Hopefully, Russo would remember to protect his nuts. If not… well, it was not like he used them anyway.
With these thoughts Alicia slammed into the ocean; the impact jouncing every bone in her body. The breath whooshed out of her; pain slammed in from all directions. The water rushed up her nose and flooded her mouth. As soon as she could, she rolled and scissored her way back to the surface.
Took a huge breath.
Time to get the hell away…
And then the tanker exploded in dramatic fashion. Muffled reports came from deep inside, distant at first but gradually growing closer. There was a moment’s stillness before a far heavier explosion appeared to split the vessel in half. The front end lifted; fire belched out of the tears in the metal, and then the rear end fell away, wrenched apart. Fire detonated up through the deck toward the still-bright skies. The front end settled suddenly, displacing an incredible volume of water and then started to sink.
Alicia saw most of it and then ducked under the Pacific, swimming strongly away. She hadn’t seen Russo and hoped he’d landed well. A surge of water pushed past her as if someone had shoved her roughly in the back, making her lose momentum and curl up in the water.
Russo?
Kicking her way to the surface, Alicia remained acutely wary of what might be up there. Slowly, she breached the waves and looked around. The tanker was listing at the back, sinking at the front. Flames licked the air all around it. Some spillage had entered the water and was pooling away, burning at the same time. Debris littered the area for miles around.
She didn’t see Russo. She took a moment, turned a full circle, and waited a little longer. Still — no Russo.
“Shit.”
Taking her best approximation of where the big man had entered the water, she swam back and then dived underneath. It was clear for some distance under here, a sapphire and green shade. Not knowing how deep it was, she swam powerfully toward the bottom.