“Lock it down!” shouted Jonah, waving his hands into the wind. “Shut all hatches!”
Dalmar glared at Jonah just long enough to defiantly shove a soggy, half-drowned boy through the opening and into a mass of waiting arms below. With a snarl, the pirate slammed the hatch shut as the refugees around him began to scream in fear and distress.
“Everybody get down!” shouted Jonah, waving his arms. “Down, down, down!”
The refugees didn’t understand the language but the gesture was clear. They began to kneel and sit on the deck, Dalmar and Marissa crouching amongst them. Soon, only Jonah was standing amongst the crowd, waiting for the hovercraft to close the final few meters to the submarine.
Even from the conning tower, Alexis could see Marissa mouth to Jonah—You can’t, you don’t know what they’ll do to us. You just can’t.
But Jonah only turned to issue Marissa a single, cold stare until she melted into the mass of refugees. Jonah was left alone, standing arms wide in surrender, an apologetic Aw-shucks-you-caught-me expression on his face, his assault rifle slung harmlessly behind his back. He didn’t look like he was facing down the North Korean military. He looked like he was trying to wriggle out of a ticket in a West Texas speed trap.
The massive hovercraft came alongside the Scorpion, her flat, wide deck bristling with rifles as a dozen soldiers pointed their weapons at Jonah. They leaned against their metal railing, a triple-set of open airplane propellers roaring behind them. The North Korean soldiers on deck were a strange mix of Cold War-era camo snowsuits and AK-47’s, woolen caps, and plain green steel combat helmets, all led by a single young lieutenant. They were healthier than the refugees, fed at least, but still bore the small, bowed statures and lean features of the chronically malnourished. The soldiers wore stoic, angry expressions, barely concealing a kind of childlike wonder, even glee. It was as though they’d unexpectedly cornered a mythic species, a creature they’d known only through decades of propaganda-driven legend.
Still feigning surrender, Jonah gingerly pressed his way through the cowed throng of refugees, slowly opening a small deck compartment to reveal a thick steel mooring cable. He picked up the loop at the end, gesturing that he wanted to throw it across, allow the soldiers to link their crafts together for boarding. The refugees huddled frozen in silent horror, some openly weeping with fear.
The North Korean lieutenant returned the gesture, signaling Jonah to throw the cable and secure their capture. He made the motions of a soft, underhand toss. The soldiers began to lower their weapons, preparing to receive the line.
Before they could react, Jonah suddenly hurled the thick loop towards the nearest propeller, the long steel cable singing through the air as it followed. It hit with a sharp ping and a shower of sparks in the split second before the line caught in the rotor, screeching as the heavy line snapped taut. Alexis threw herself behind the lip of the conning tower as the hovercraft engine exploded, flames and smoke pouring from the engines, the steel line hopelessly tangled in the wreckage.
Alexis stared down the interior of the conning tower just in time to see Vitaly spin up the Scorpion’s engines to howling full power. “Da, signal always explosion!” the Russian cackled as the lurching submarine slammed through the first of the icepack, bow splitting through the frozen, cracking crust. The refugees were thrown to the deck. Dalmar’s arm shot out to grabbed an old man in the moments before he tumbled into the freezing, propeller-churned water in their wake.
Picking up speed, the Scorpion dragged the now-flaming hovercraft stern-first over the surface. North Korean soldiers scrambled, but could not bring their guns to bear. Great blocks of ice smashed into and flipped up and over the submarine’s shuddering foredeck even as Dalmar and Marissa threw open the main deck hatch again and tossed people into a human heap in the crew quarters below. Jonah abandoned the refugees and took up position behind the conning tower. He squinted into the frigid air as his automatic weapon poured an entire magazine of bullets into the black rubber cushion of the hovercraft. Thin, white jets of air hissed outward from pockmarked shots penetrating the craft, turning the rubber skirt into a ragged mess.
Suddenly, the steel line broke with a ringing snap. The whipping ends recoiled over the heads of the refugees causing Dalmar to duck instinctively. Marissa cried out as the line whipped past where the pirate’s head had just been. A cheer went up from the refugees as they watched the burning hovercraft slowly shrink into the distance behind them. Jonah lowered the rifle, slung it over his back, and returned to Dalmar and Marissa’s side, the three together helping the last handful of refugees off the deck and into the hatch.
Behind them, the North Korean soldiers managed to disconnect the stricken, flaming engine, vectoring thrust from the remaining two propellers to begin a long, lazy turn, and once again rejoined the chase. Floating over the ice, the hovercraft began to close the gap once more. Their soldiers weren’t waiting this time. A haphazard hail of bullets streamed across the icepack. Bullets clattered across the Scorpion’s deck as the final refugee disappeared into submarine. Marissa went in next, followed by Dalmar and Jonah, the hatch slamming shut behind him.
“Dive!” screamed Alexis in the conning tower to Vitaly below. “Dive, dive, dive!”
Freezing, ice-laden water rushed over the bow, flooding across the deck like Moses releasing the parted waters of the Red Sea. A massive wave slid over the short foredeck, drenching Alexis as it crashed against the conning tower. She vaulted down the interior ladder, the hatch clanging shut just as a second wave of ice and water curled over the lip of her post.
And then they were free, gliding through the water column of the North Korean shoals, again hidden beneath shifting ice.
Jonah pointed at Alexis. “Report!” he ordered “Did we get everybody?”
“Every man, woman, and child,” she announced with pride through chattering teeth. Freezing droplets of seawater scattered across the metal deck as she shivered uncontrollably.
“Good,” said Jonah, squinting as he eyed the long corridor through the heart of the Scorpion, now thick with shivering refugees. “We should be able to pull off a clean escape from here. North Korean subs are not ice-rated, and their surface ships and airplanes won’t be able to find us beneath the pack.”
“Scorpion not ice-rated,” complained Vitaly as he turned the submarine sharply to the north, plotting an unpredictable route out of hostile waters. “You make us go anyway.”
“I told you the ol’ girl would be fine,” said Jonah, patting Vitaly on the shoulder. “Nice work getting us out of there.”
“Worst captain ever never listen to Vitaly,” muttered the Russian, trying to hide his smile at the compliment. “Vitaly must save day again.”
Glancing in both directions, Alexis pulled Jonah to the side for a quiet word. “This was way too close — even for us,” said Alexis, whispering into his ear. “I didn’t sign on for a shoot out with the North Korean military.”
“Agreed,” said Jonah. “None of us did. The moment we get to Kanazawa, these people are off my boat, and I’m throwing Marissa out on her narrow ass. We got lucky this time. We won’t get lucky twice.”
Alexis pushed through the crowding, coughing refugees and made her way to the crew compartment. They were everywhere — mothers and fathers holding children and entire families piled into the sparse bunks. The strongest tended to the young and old, some of whom could barely stand. The engineer couldn’t believe how small and frail they all were. Some little more than person-shaped twigs.