"You have to stay outside," he told Danny. "The crew should not see."
Danny thought that was a ridiculous precaution — surely the crew had seen the Osprey hanging over the bow — but he was in no position to argue. The mate led them along the railing to a coiled rope ladder.
"When the signal is given, you can descend," the mate told him. "We will be two kilometers from Istanbul." The mate was Indian, and between the wind, the engines, and the retreating Osprey, his words were difficult to understand.
"How long?" asked Danny.
"Thirty minutes. Sometimes there are patrols," added the mate. "If this happens, you must get off the ship immediately."
Boston shot him a look that said no way. With assorted adjectives.
"Not a problem," Danny lied.
The mate left them, walking around the front of the superstructure, perhaps to emphasize that the door nearby was locked. Danny led the others toward the stern, stopping just aft of the superstructure in a darkened spot where he could see across to both sides of the channel.
"Why'd he say we had to jump?" Boston asked. "Are we being set up?"
"I don't think so," answered Danny.
"I don't like this bullshit," said Boston. "It's cold, Cap."
"Not too much I can do about the weather, Boston. Don't tell me you haven't had worse."
"Oh, I've had worse." He leaned on the rail. Sorina was standing a few feet away, gazing at the water. "I don't trust her either, Cap. She's got to be planning something."
"Like what?"
"Something."
They'd run a metal detector around her back at Iasi before boarding the Osprey; she didn't have any weapons.
"Maybe she has second thoughts," said Boston. "I would if were her. And third and fourth. She's giving up her own people."
"Boston, shut your mouth," said Danny.
"Just sayin' the truth, Cap."
Danny walked over to Sorina Viorica. She'd raised the direction of her stare somewhat, and was now gazing at the dark outline of shore as the ship entered the channel. There was a small Turkish warship tied up near the cliff; from this distance, it looked as if everyone aboard were asleep.
"You ready to talk?" Danny asked. "At the train station." Sorina continued to stare at the opposite bank.
"It's going to take a while. Why don't we just get it over with?"
"So you can arrest me?"
She flung her head around. Her eyes shone with fierce anger.
"I'm not going to do anything to you," Danny said. "I'm going to let you go. That's the deal. You tell me where the targets are, I put you on the train."
"I put myself on the train."
"However you want to do it."
She turned back to the water.
The ship had been alone on the Black Sea, but once in the strait, company was plentiful. Several ships sat just outside the navigation channel, stopped for one reason or another. A large, well-lit ferry was just pulling out from a town on the eastern side of the passage. It had obviously been rented for a party, and the sound of music wafted across the water. Danny watched the passengers dance in what seemed like slow motion, their world a million miles from his.
"Another navy ship over there, Cap," said Boston. "Moving."
Danny looked at the eastern shore to their south, following the sergeant's finger. A 150-foot patrol craft was moving out from the shadows, curving in their direction. A 72mm gun turret dominated the front deck.
"Think the Romanians sold us out?" asked Boston.
"They don't know where we are."
Danny looked toward the western shore. It was under a mile away. Both he and Boston could swim that distance, but maybe not Sorina.
And the water would be very, very cold.
"Worse case, that's a life raft up there," said Boston, pointing to a rigid-sided inflatable raft lashed to the side of the superstructure a deck above them. "Or should we take that thing there?"
"That thing" was a lifeboat, which would have to be swung out on its davits. The raft would be easier and less noticeable.
Damn, Danny thought.
Damn. Who the hell gave us away?
A searchlight from the patrol boat cut across the waves, heading toward the hull of the tanker. Danny motioned for the others to move behind the superstructure, where they couldn't be seen. He kept his post, watching the searchlight move in a slow arc back and forth across the water, cursing to himself and considering his next move.
He'd use the tanker as a shield. Would the patrol boat come up alongside? Or would it put down its own boats to board them?
Not very long ago he had worked with a Navy boarding team. Danny tried to remember their procedures. They'd used only one boat, but they had air support to watch in case anyone tried to run away.
The patrol boat continued toward them, its search beam growing stronger. There must be a place to hide inside the ship, he thought. But what sense would that make if the crew was ready to give them up?
Sorina stood near the rail, her expression as stoic as ever.
"How well do you swim?" Danny asked her.
She shook her head.
"You understand the words?"
"I understand," she told him. "I cannot swim."
The searchlight arced upward, sweeping the bow and then the superstructure.
"All right, get the raft," Danny told Boston. "See if there's some sort of rope with it, something we can use to lower her."
"This is part of your plan?" asked Sorina.
"We're ad-libbing."
Boston climbed up over the catwalk above them, examining the raft and how it was held to the ship.
"Don't throw it over yet," Danny told him. "Wait until I tell you."
He trotted aft, planning — once the patrol boat closed in, it would be harder to see them going over.
The boat's searchlight caught the corner of his eye as he cleared the end of the superstructure. It seemed brighter than any light he'd ever seen, a star exploding in his face.
The searchlight swung upward. Danny thought for a moment that it had somehow caught Boston working on the raft, but of course he was out of view. The light moved to the north, toward another ship.
The patrol boat was headed toward that ship, not theirs.
Danny watched for another minute, making sure.
"All right. We don't need the raft," he yelled to Boston. "Not yet, anyway."
The tanker moved more slowly than the mate had predicted, and it was nearly an hour before they got close enough to the city to see its lights. The Blue Mosque sat on a hill at the tip of the oldest quarter, glowing yellow in the distance, spotlights illuminating its dome and minarets.
A long string of ships sat in the water to the east of the mosque, some resting before moving northward or to the west, others waiting to unload cargo at the docks, which were out of sight beyond the jutting land. A train poked along the shore, heading in the direction of the sultan's palace and the ruins beyond, ferrying workers to their late night jobs and returning others home.
The Indian mate appeared from inside the ship, popping out on deck as if sprung there.
"Time," he said loudly. "Time. You must go."
Boston climbed up and undid the raft, lowering it from a pulley set on the stanchion.
"You are taking our raft?" asked the mate.
"You didn't expect us to swim, did you?" asked Boston.
"Our raft."
Danny stepped over to the mate. "Is this a problem?"
"Yes."
"How much?" said Danny.
"Big."
"That wasn't what I mean." He reached into his pocket and took out a roll of American bills. Quickly, he peeled off five hundred dollar bills and gave them to the mate. "That makes it a small problem, right?"
The man looked embarrassed. "No, big problem. You cannot have the raft. It belongs to the ship. Big trouble if you take it."