Nick dropped to the main deck and unlashed the tiller. Kathy came out of the cabin carrying a bowl of steaming rice. She had put on a bright red shift which clung tightly to her curves. Her hair was freshly combed.
“Feel better?” Nick asked. He began eating the rice.
“Much. Mike went right to sleep. He couldn’t even finish his rice.”
Nick couldn’t get over her beauty. The photo John Loo had shown him didn’t do her justice.
Kathy looked up at the bare mast. “Is anything the matter?”
“I’m waiting for a current.” He handed her the empty bowl. “How much do you know about all this?”
She froze, and for an instant the fear she’d had in the cell showed in her eyes. “Nothing,” she said softly. “They came to my home. Then they grabbed Mike. They held me while one of them give me a shot. The next thing I remember was waking up in that cell. That was when the real horror began. The soldiers…” She hung her head, unable to speak.
“Don’t talk about it,” Nick said.
She lifted her head. “They told me John would soon be with me. Is he all right?”
“As far as I know.” Then Nick told her everything, leaving out only his encounters with them. He told her about the compound, about his conversation with John, and he wound up by saying, “So we only have until midnight to get you and Mike back to Hong Kong. And it will be daylight in a couple of hours…”
Kathy was silent for a long while. Then she said, “I’m afraid I’ve been a lot of trouble for you. And I don’t even know your name.”
“The trouble was worth it to find you safe. And my name is Nick Carter. I’m an agent of the government.”
The junk moved faster. The current caught it and moved it along, helped by the light breeze. Nick settled back with the tiller. Kathy leaned against the starboard rail, deep in her own thoughts. She had held up fine so far, Nick thought. But the toughest part was yet to come.
The delta was far behind them. Ahead, Nick could see the lights of Whampoa. The big ships were anchored on each side of the river, leaving a narrow channel between. Most of the city was blacked out, waiting for dawn, which was not far away. Kathy had gone into the cabin for some sleep. Nick stayed at the tiller, his eyes watching everything.
The junk moved on, letting the current and wind take it toward Hong Kong. Nick dozed at the tiller, a nagging worry in the back of his mind. It was going too smoothly, too easily. Surely all the soldiers in the village hadn’t been killed. Some of them must have escaped the fires to give an alarm. And the radioman must have gotten through to someone before he fired at Nick. Where was that patrol boat?
Nick jerked awake to see Kathy standing in front of him. She had a hot cup of coffee in her hand. The dark night had faded to a point where he could see the thick rainforest on both banks of the river. The sun would be up soon.
“Take this,” Kathy said. “You look as if you need it.”
Nick took the coffee. His body felt cramped. There were dull aching pains in his neck and ears. He was unshaven and dirty, and he still had about sixty miles to go.
“Where’s Mike?” He sipped the coffee, feeling the warmth all the way down.
“He’s on the bow, watching.”
Suddenly he heard Mike shout.
“Nick! Nick! There’s a boat coming!”
“Take the tiller,” Nick told Kathy. Mike was on one knee, pointing just starboard of the bow.
“There,” he said. “See, just coming up the river.”
The patrol boat was coming fast, its bow high in the water. Nick could barely make out two soldiers stationed at the gun on the foredeck. There wasn’t much time. The way that boat was coming, they knew he had Kathy and Mike. The radioman had gotten to them.
“Good boy,” Nick said. “Now let’s go make some plans.” Together they jumped off the cabin to the main deck. Nick broke open the case of grenades.
“What is it?” Kathy asked.
Nick had the top of the case open. “Patrol boat. I’m sure they know about you and Mike. Our little boat trip is over; we’re going to have to move on land now.” He had his shirt-bag filled with grenades again. “I want you and Mike to swim for shore right now.”
“But…”
“Now! No time to argue.”
Mike touched Nick’s shoulder, then dove over the side. Kathy waited, looking into Nick’s eyes.
“You’ll be killed,” she said.
“Not if it works out the way I want. Now move! I’ll meet you downriver some place.”
Kathy kissed his cheek, then dove over the side.
Nick could hear the powerful engines of the patrol boat now. He climbed onto the cabin and dropped the sail. Then he jumped down to the tiller and threw it violently to the left. The junk lurched and began to turn sideways across the river. The patrol boat was closer now. Nick saw orange flame spit from the bow gun. The shell whistled through the air and exploded just in front of the junk’s bow. The junk seemed to shudder from the shock. The port side faced the patrol boat. Nick positioned himself behind the starboard side of the cabin, the Tommy gun resting on top. The patrol boat was still too far away to fire on.
The bow gun fired again. And again the shell whistled through the air, only this time the explosion ripped a cavity at the water line just aft of the bow. The junk jerked violently, almost knocking Nick off. The bow began immediately to sink. Still Nick waited. The patrol boat was close enough now. Three more soldiers opened fire with machine guns. The cabin all around Nick was being cut and chipped by the bullets. Still he waited.
The junk was listing badly to starboard. It wouldn’t stay afloat much longer. The patrol boat was close enough for him to see the expressions on the soldiers’ faces. He was waiting for a certain sound. The soldiers stopped firing. The boat began to slow down. Then Nick heard the sound. The patrol boat was drawing alongside. The engines were cut while the props were reversed. Nick raised his head just high enough to sight. Then he opened fire. His first spray killed the two soldiers on the bow gun. He was firing in a crisscross pattern, without stopping. The three other soldiers jerked back and forth bumping into each other. Deck hands and soldiers hit the deck for cover.
Nick laid the Tommy gun down and pulled out the first grenade. He pulled the pin and threw it, then took out another, pulled the pin and threw it, and took out a third and pulled the pin and threw it. He picked up the Tommy gun and dove backward into the river. The first grenade exploded just as he hit the water, which was icy cold. He kicked his powerful legs against the weight of the Tommy gun and the remaining grenades. He came straight up and surfaced beside the wounded junk. His second grenade had ripped the patrol boat’s cabin apart. Nick hung onto the side of the junk while he pulled another grenade from the sack. He yanked the pin with his teeth and lobbed it over the junk’s rail in the direction of the opened case of grenades. Then he let go and let the weight of his weapons carry him straight to the bottom of the river.
His feet hit slushy mud almost immediately; the bottom was only eight or nine feet down. As he started to move toward shore, he dimly heard a series of small explosions, followed by a huge one that knocked him off his feet and somersaulted him over and over. His ears felt as though they were popping apart. But the concussion had knocked him close to shore. A little further and he would be able to raise his head above water. His brain felt jarred, his lungs ached, there was a pain along the back of his neck; still his tired legs plodded on.
He first felt coolness on top of his head, then he lifted his nose and chin out of the water and sucked in the sweet air. Three more steps brought his head up. He turned to look at the scene he had just left. The junk had already sunk, and the patrol boat was well on its way. Fire covered most of what was visible and the water line was now along the main deck. Even as he watched, the stern began to sink. There was loud hissing as water reached the fire. Slowly the boat settled, water bubbling over it, filling all compartments and cavities, hissing against fire that diminished as the boat sank. Nick turned his back to it and blinked his eyes against the morning sun. He nodded with a grim knowledge. It was dawn of the seventh day.