The atoll!
They floated just outside the calm waters of the lagoon. What are we doing back here? Maddock wondered if it meant that Tomoaki had gleaned information he found to be promising from Spinney and Carlson regarding the location of the crate. He tried to suppress his nerves as he speculated as to whether the Mizuhi team sweeping the island may have come across their smallpox crate hidden in the foliage. That would be extremely problematic. Hopefully Tamoaki was just pursuing some wild goose chase given to him by Spinney and Carlson.
One thing was clear. Something was going on with the ship, and so he and Bones needed to regroup. With any luck, Maddock reflected, already moving away from the pool toward the open deck, at least some of the crew would leave the ship for the island, giving them better odds at overcoming the remaining crew while they searched for a sat-phone. He should have Bones with him, anyway, to breach the radio room and bridge areas. He could give him one of the K5s and then they would be much more effective than they were now, split and with one of them weaponless.
He began carefully making his way back to the work deck, the last place he saw Bones. One thing that gave him hope was that, if he had been captured, he probably would have been in that room with Tomoaki and the EARHART men, if he had been. Maddock could only hope he was still at large as he snuck under a stairwell landing and waited for two crewmen to walk past. When it was clear he dashed to the base of a large crane, hiding behind it while scoping out the next leg of his progress. In such a fashion he worked his way toward the stern of the ship, occasionally dodging crewmen, staying out of sight, until at last he was overlooking the work deck.
What he saw made him catch his breath.
The life-size model Electra was now clutched in the jaws of a massive crane, swinging a few feet over the deck as it swayed gently. He didn’t know what they planned to do with it, but that wasn’t his concern. What did cause him anxiety was his view of the cockpit.
Bones lay curled in a ball on the floor of the fake plane.
From his hiding spot behind a boxy air handler tucked back beneath a stairwell, Maddock took in his surroundings. Perhaps a dozen men now occupied the work deck, most of them highly focused on tasks related to moving the plane. Maddock watched as one of the men, seated at a control station for the crane, began to move his hands over its controls.
The crane began to move, carrying the replica airplane with it. He saw Bones stir within the plane but still make no move to sit up.
Don’t get up now, Bones, they’ll see you. He knew it must be difficult for Bones to resist the urge to get a visual on his situation.
Maddock didn’t see how he was going to get Bones out of that plane without anyone knowing. Even with his twin K5s there was no way he could hold off that many of them. And he couldn’t be sure yet, but what were they doing with the model — preparing to lower it over the side into the water? What for?
And then he recalled the talk of Mizuhi’s development goals, how they wanted to turn the island into a profitable luxury mega-resort, complete with Amelia Earhart’s airplane and fancy bungalows dotting the beach. Maddock scratched his head in wonderment. It seemed that when faced with the fact that they were unable to scare the EARHART Group off so that they could lay claim to the island, Mizuhi had made the horrible executive decision to simply take over the atoll by sheer brute force. He took advantage of the island’s remoteness and essentially kicked off the atoll’s sole occupants to begin construction of their new paradise. They had already started burning down the jungle, Maddock thought, watching the island burn to his left, the smell of smoke hanging sharply in the night air. And now they were about to drop a full-scale model of Earhart’s Electra into the atoll’s lagoon, probably to dupe unsuspecting tourists into believing they’d found the real thing! Probably so that tourists could snorkel on it.
Maddock thought fast, clutching one of his two pistols. As soon as they lowered that plane into the water, Bones would be seen by the crew. The situation was rapidly getting out of control. He had to do something, but saw only near-suicidal options. He looked around the ship, at the crew on deck working the plane, saw a few more men streaming onto the work deck, a couple leaving the deck to climb into the superstructure. He needed a major distraction of some sort. Looking over at the burning atoll, he was discouraged. If that wasn’t distraction enough, what could he possibly do to provide one?
One of the men on deck shouted at the crane operator to do something and Maddock saw the plane spinning, with Bones inside, twirling in place as it hung suspended over the deck. He wasn’t sure if they intended to drop it into the lagoon from here, or wanted to get it onto the island itself. Either way, as soon as they lowered it Bones would be spotted. There was no way Maddock would be able to get Bones out of there without getting both of them killed. SNAFU. The situation was so bad, it seemed insurmountable. The ship was too big and had too many crew to be able to locate a sat-phone in a practical amount of time. He shook his head in disgust at their early optimism. Ridiculous. Now they were in a serious pickle that nothing short of a disaster affecting the ship itself would be able to…
A disaster affecting the ship itself…
A devilish grin materialized on Maddock’s face as he stared out over the busy work deck. He banished the phrase long-shot from his brain. Something had to be done.
Hang in there Bones. He chuckled to himself as he glanced at the special warfare operator spinning slowly in the suspended model plane before turning and running back the way he had come.
Chapter 30
Maddock retraced his steps carefully back the way he had come, careful not to let his enthusiasm for trying out his new plan overcome his operational judgment. He still had to be extremely wary. Ducking, watching, listening nearly every step of the way. The entire mission was on the line, not to mention his and Bones’ personal safety. He hung cat-like from the underside of a stairwell while a crewman ran up it, oblivious to his presence. When the man was out of sight, Maddock dropped to the deck and made the final dash to his destination.
The whale’s pool.
Shankey glided silently through another of his endless circles, the water barely rippling with his motion. Maddock glanced around the area beneath the overhang, took a deep breath and approached the pool. He couldn’t deny that he questioned his ability to do what he was about to try, but if it was successful it would provide just the distraction he was looking for.
Maddock watched Shankey for a moment while he summoned mental images of the Navy marine mammal trainers he’d observed in San Diego. The hand signals they used to interact with their dolphins. He doubted they would be exactly the same as what Mizuhi used with their pilot whale, but hopefully they would be close enough. He knew that the U.S. Navy marine mammal training programs were often emulated around the world because of their stellar reputation.
Hanging from a peg on the wall nearby was a whistle and he grabbed it and looped it around his neck. He knew that it would be easily heard around the ship and that once he used it he would need to be ready to move. But he also knew that much of the handling was done with hand signals alone.
He pressed himself up against the side of the tank and held an arm straight out over the water, palm flat. He was surprised when the whale suddenly altered its course and popped nose-up in the middle of its pool, eyeing Maddock curiously. It was a good sign. Next Maddock balled his outstretched hand into a fist and brought it to his chest. Come here.