11
LINDA pressed her hands against the fabric, trying to find purchase, but her gloves could do little to slow her inexorable plunge. As her fingers reached the edge of the tear she frantically tried to grab the frayed edge. Her momentum was already too great, and a second later her head was over the hole, then her shoulders.
There wasn’t even time to scream as her upper body slid through the rip and dangled high above the cargo hold of the drydock. Inside was pitch-dark, but she knew that she hung over an eighty-foot void. Her hips hit the edge of the tear, shifting her center of gravity. She was powerless as her body coiled under and her legs were lifted from the tough cloth covering.
Just as the top of her thighs slid over the precipice, strong hands wrapped around her ankles. For a precarious moment she continued to fall, and then she felt herself being drawn backward. She was plucked from the rent in the fabric and dragged back from the hole, not caring that the tough material scraped against the skin of her cheek.
Linda rolled onto her back and smiled into the face of the Zodiac driver. “Jesus, thanks. For a second there I thought I was…”
“For a second there you were.”
“The other guard?” Linda asked.
“Taken care of.”
“Okay, we only have another minute or two before these guys are going to be missed.” Linda removed her combat harness as she spoke. She unclipped the suspenders from the belt, then reclipped them in a way to create an eight-foot-long rope of sorts. “Team two, bring the body out here.”
“Roger.”
“Hand me your harness.” Linda worked this belt, too, doubling the length of her safety line.
She threaded an arm through a loop she had made, then secured a night vision monocle over her eyes. She averted her face from the perimeter floodlights to preserve her vision.
“Belay me,” Linda ordered once the other team arrived and lowered the dead guard to the deck. She noted two things. One was that someone had thought to close up his trousers and the other was that his neck was at an oblique angle to his body.
She crawled toward the elongated hole. Nikoli’s knife had sliced next to a seam, the area of maximum tension, which was why it had torn open so easily. Originally she had planned to burn a hole in the fabric to dispose of the bodies, hoping the other guards would assume a hastily tossed cigarette was at fault. But this gash would serve her purpose just as well. The others aboard the Mauswould guess their comrades had taken a shortcut across the hold and were swallowed when the cloth suddenly gave way.
Linda slithered closer to the rent, feeling the fabric sag under her weight but confident that her team could haul her back. As she neared the hole, she felt herself slide a little and instantly felt pressure under her arms as the men checked her descent. “Okay, hold me here,” she said.
She lowered her head into the hold and snapped on a tiny flashlight.
Her first concern was Nikoli. Had he landed in such a way as to make his bullet wound noticeable, their covert inspection would be blown. Linda peered downward. Because of the two-dimensional quality of the low-light optics, she didn’t experience the sense of vertigo she expected. Directly below her was a ship, a small tanker with its superstructure at the stern. She peered aft, seeing that they had cut off the ship’s funnel and masts to make it fit under the tarpaulins. From this vantage she saw nothing to identify the vessel, no name or distinctive characteristics. But now they had their proof that they were dealing with hijackers as well as pirates.
She switched her goggles from low-light to infrared. Her vision went black with one glowing exception. A smear of light appeared at the ship’s rail and continued down to the bottom of the hold where she saw a growing pool of bright color. She changed back to the night optics and trained her flashlight on the spot. It appeared that Nikoli had hit the freighter’s rail when he fell, blood that had shown up as warmth on IR looked black now, and his body lay on the lowest deck, covered in gore. She doubted very much that anyone but a trained pathologist would notice the bullet wound amid the carnage the fall had caused.
Satisfied, Linda called for her men to drag her back.
“There’s a tanker in the hold. They hacked off her funnel to make her fit. I put her length around four hundred feet.”
“Is there any way you can get her name?” Max asked from the op center.
“Negative. We have to clear out. Those guards are due back from their patrol about now.”
“Okay. We’ll be ready for you.”
At a crouch the team ran back to where they had secured the Zodiac and climbed down the rope. The driver started the electric motor and was ready when the sniper released the rope. The inflatable smashed into the sea and immediately pulled away from the Maus,bobbing dangerously for a second before its speed evened out the ride.
Fifteen minutes later they approached the Oregonat twenty knots, the gasoline engine purring smoothly. The deckhand in the garage watched their approach through closed-circuit television and, as they drew nearer, he doused the red lights and opened the door just in time for the Zodiac to rocket up the ramp and come to a perfect stop. The doors were closing even before the pilot killed the engine.
Max Hanley was there to greet them. He handed his cell phone to Linda.
She peeled her watch cap from her head. “Ross here.”
“Linda, it’s Juan. What did you find?”
“She’s hauling a midsized product tanker, Chairman. I couldn’t tell her name.”
“Any sign of the crew?”
“No, sir. And since the hold was completely dark, my bet is they’re either dead or on one of the tugboats.”
Neither needed to say that the second option wasn’t likely.
“Okay, great job to all of you,” Cabrillo said. “Put yourself down for an extra ration of grog.”
“Actually, I’m going to avail myself of a couple shots of the Louis XIII brandy you keep in your cabin.”
“That is to be enjoyed in a warm snifter, not shot down like cheap tequila.”
“I’ll warm the shot glass,” Linda teased. “Here’s Max.” She handed back the phone and left the garage for a long shower, and yes, a snifter or two of Juan’s fifteen-hundred-dollar cognac.
“So what do you want us to do now?” Hanley asked.
“According to what Murph told me, the Mausis headed for Taiwan. Why don’t you get ahead of her and wait to see if she enters port? If she does, I’ll meet you there and we’ll play it by ear.”
“And if she changes course and heads someplace else?”
“Stay with her.”
“You realize she’s making about three knots. We could be shadowing her for a couple of weeks before she makes landfall.”
“I know. Can’t be helped, old boy. Think of yourself as one of the cops following OJ on his low-speed chase along the L.A. freeways.”
“Low speed? Hell, lobsters migrate faster than that damn drydock.” Max turned serious. “You do remember that the last ship taken from your Japanese friend’s fleet was a tanker. The, ah…”
“Toya Maru,”Juan provided.
“Right. Stands to reason that’s her in the Maus’s hold. Why not just contact the navy or Japan’s coast guard?”
“Oh, I’m certain it’s the Toya Maru. But this isn’t about one ship, and I doubt anyone on those tugboats can tell us much. The pirates are playing this too smart. You mark my words: About a day out of Taipei they’ll get orders to go someplace else. We take down the Mausnow, we nab one vessel and a few low-level guys. We track her back to wherever they’re going to scrap the Toyaor disguise her so they can use her themselves, we’ll have made a dent in their operation.”