Rita decided it was time to call Hunter again-if he was still in range of her communicator. First she went to the door and listened for footsteps. She might make excuses about talking to herself if someone heard her voice, but she would not be able to explain if they heard Hunter’s. Then, just to make sure, she moved back to the rear of the room.
“Hunter. Rita calling.”
“Hunter here. Are you well, Rita?”
“Yes-but where are you? Are you close?”
“Steve, Jane, and I are on board Captain Morgan’s flagship. I will have to wait until we anchor before I can attempt taking you off the Old Laughing Lady, under present circumstances. However, if an emergency arises earlier, call me.”
“We won’t anchor for days,” said Rita.
“How long will this leg of the voyage take?”
“I don’t remember exactly. Let me think. At top speed in perfect wind, three or four days. Realistically, I would guess a week at the soonest; maybe longer-if the wind is a big problem, much longer. When we do anchor, it will only be for a short time. We’ll stop first off the coast of Costa Rica.”
“You know where we’re going then. What will happen at Costa Rica?”
“Not very much. Captain Morgan will send longboat crews to shore for fresh water and any food they can find. He’ll be meeting with his captains to give them our true destination. We’re going to attack a city in Panama called Portobelo, near the modern city of Colon.”
“Thank you, Rita. We will help you as soon as we can. Hunter out.”
Rita sighed, wishing that he could help her right away. Still, knowing the team was nearby was reassuring. She gazed out the window again, watching the other ships.
Hunter passed the information he had learned from Rita to Steve and Jane as soon as he could. As Rita had predicted, the ships sailed for over a week. Jane avoided the buccaneers, still worried that they would discover she was a woman. Hunter and Steve usually found chores the three of them could do by themselves. Anyone who began to work on a job was allowed to continue, as the assignments on the pirate ship were haphazard. They kept to themselves and the rest of the crew mostly left them alone. Even under the influence of their nightly rum, none of the buccaneers wanted trouble with someone who could lift, carry, and climb the way Hunter could.
On the eighth day out of port, the lookout shouted that land was visible to the south. As the buccaneers ran to the side to look, Hunter used the map in his stored data and correlated it with the duration, speed, and direction of their voyage. This confirmed to him that they had arrived off the shore of Costa Rica.
“The captains will meet after we anchor,” Hunter said quietly to Steve and Jane. “But longboats will be sent ashore for supplies. It will be a good time for me to attempt reaching the Old Laughing Lady from here and I will feel more secure under the First Law if you two remain safely on board ship. So we should avoid being assigned to the longboats.”
“We won’t be close enough to drop anchor for most of the day,” said Steve. “But when the time comes, let’s go below. I doubt anyone will care, but if anyone comes down, we’ll look busy. We’ll move crates around in the hold or something.”
“Good.”
At midafternoon, the fleet finally drew near enough to drop anchor offshore. Hunter glanced at Captain Morgan, who was eyeing the jungle-covered coast through a spyglass. Then Hunter turned to Steve and Jane.
“It is time, I think. Into the hold, quickly.”
No one else was below. The three of them sat quietly on crates in the hot, dank air while the buccaneers on deck shouted and cheered. They were all anxious to get a break from the routine by rowing to land.
Hunter could tell what was happening by the sounds he heard. First the longboats were released from every ship on long lines, each one dropping into the sea with a splash. Then the buccaneers climbed down rope ladders, shouting to each other to hurry. Soon he could hear the oars splashing into the water as the longboats pulled away. For several minutes, he heard only the footsteps of the skeleton crew that remained on board.
“Captain Morgan is probably going to summon the captains to join him here now for his conference.”
“How can he summon them?” Jane asked.
“With flags,” said Steve. “But, look-the longboats are gone, so we can go up on deck again.”
“All right,” said Hunter. “But I cannot risk swimming to the Old Laughing Lady while the other captains are being rowed to this ship. I shall have to wait until they have arrived.”
“That’s right,” said Steve. “We’ll go up and wait.”
No one on deck took any special notice of them when they emerged from the hold. The buccaneers who were still on board were standing by the rail, gazing at the shore. Captain Morgan stood with them, talking and pointing.
Hunter turned toward the other eight ships. Several longboats were already coming toward Morgan’s ship first, on their way to the shore. That told Hunter the signaling had been completed already.
He moved to the seaward side of the ship and occupied his time by checking the firmness of belayed ropes and the tightness of knots. Steve and Jane did the same. Until the longboats left, they would simply pass the time quietly.
21
As Hunter pretended to work, he kept count of the other ship captains who came on board. When all eight had arrived, Captain Morgan took them below to his quarters. Their longboats then headed across the gentle blue waves toward the shore.
“Time for me to go,” he said quietly to Steve.
Steve looked around the deck. “No one is watching. But just in case they turn around, let’s see… Jane, stand next to me and help me pull on this rope.”
Jane and Steve pulled on a loose rope dangling from a pulley in the rigging above. All the rope did was slide through the pulley, but Hunter used their bodies as a screen as he moved to the rail. As silently as possible, he climbed over it and started down the side of the ship. His hearing told him that none of the buccaneers had noticed his departure.
Using tiny irregularities in the wood on the side of the ship as handholds and footholds, Hunter worked his way down the side just as he had climbed up the side of the Cadiz. Hunter worked his way to the waterline and slipped into the sea without a splash. The Old Laughing Lady was roughly fifty meters away, with some variation as the ships drifted on the radius of their anchor lines. In the moderate waves, a good human swimmer could make it easily. For Hunter, it would take virtually no effort at all.
Hunter swam the distance half a meter under the surface of the water. If anyone happened to look in his direction, he would be no more than a shadow of the sort that a large fish or a shark might make. At the same time, he was close enough to the surface for the tropical sunlight to beat down on him as he swam, replenishing his energy through the microscopic solar collectors on his skin where his clothing left it exposed. He arrived at the waterline of the Old Laughing Lady with only a little less energy than he had possessed when he had started his swim.
When he broke the surface of the water, he heard no sound of human activity on the ship. Cautiously, he began to climb up the hull. He hesitated at the rail, looking and listening again. Some buccaneers were dozing on the deck. A few others were gazing toward the shore. None noticed him.
Moving slowly and silently, Hunter moved up on deck, always behind crates, kegs, or rolled sails in order to stay hidden.
“Rita, Hunter calling,” he radioed.
“Hunter!” She radioed back. “Is that you?”
“Yes. I am on deck, staying out of sight of crew members. Where are you?”
“I’m in one of the officer’s quarters.”
Hunter worked his way below, still alert for buccaneers, but encountered none. In the narrow hall, he saw that only one door was bolted from the outside. He unlocked it and heard another bolt move inside the door.