Dennis heard the four men taunting them as they came closer.
“When I say go Jim go. Ok!”
“Yeah sure. Whatever you say Pete.”
Hutchinson was looking down at what he could only perceive as certain death.
“Go!” Dennis shouted, “Jim Go!”
As another shot from Petrov missed Dennis by a fraction he pointed the shotgun around the corner of the container and fired. The first man was hit at almost point blank range and the powerful blast from the shotgun threw him backwards, his chest blasted to a pulp. Dennis cocked and fired again and again. Hutchinson ran to the rail. Up on the gantry Petrov sighted Hutchinson and brought the crosshairs to focus on the American’s head. He put his finger on the trigger and pulled it back. The container suddenly filled the scope as it once again slid across the deck in front of Hutchinson. Jim heard it coming. This time it was heading straight for him and would crush him as it had Borodinoff. Hutchinson turned, climbed the waist high railing and jumped. He landed with a heavy smack in the churning sea. His head broke the surface and he turned around to face the ship. Ten feet of the container had gone through the safety rail and was now balancing over thin air. Then twelve, then fifteen, now twenty. At twenty five feet it began to tilt. Hutchinson began frantically kicking away from the ship but the next waves brought him closer. The container suddenly tipped and crashed into the sea not far from him. It disappeared for a moment under the waves, then came back up, the front rising out of the water, then it righted and appeared to be staying afloat.
Dennis, now the container was gone, was fully exposed to Petrov and his sniper rifle. He turned and fired the SPAS-12 twice at the gantry. Von Werner ducked as pellets whined and smacked off the rails. Petrov hadn’t moved and he calmly pulled the trigger just as Dennis turned and ran. The bullet from the Dragunov whined harmlessly into the wet deck and ricocheted away. With one cartridge left Dennis pointed the shotgun over his shoulder at the centre of the gas canisters and pulled the trigger a moment before he dived over the side. The resulting explosion shook the ship as gas canister after gas canister erupted causing a chain reaction which threw Von Werner and Petrov to the floor.
Dennis’ head broke the surface of the water in time for him to see the massive fireball the explosion had caused.
“Pete! Over here.”
A large wave pushed Dennis towards the container and together he and Hucthinson clung to it. An ominous creaking and groaning sound came from the ship and they watched in amazement as four stacks of containers six high leaned out over the side and then toppled into the sea one at a time.
“Fuck!” Dennis said, “Did I cause that?”
“Uh-huh,” Hutchinson replied as the ship moved further away.
On the gantry by the bridge Von Werner and Petrov slowly picked themselves up. Von Werner found his small round spectacles and put them on. He brushed his white suit down with his hand, a strange smile on his lips.
“Do you want me to go after them sir?” Petrov asked, the Dragunov rifle resting across his chest.
Von Werner shook his head.
“They won’t last long in that sea.”
Inside he was thinking, ’I hope you do survive Mr Dennis. I hope to see you again real soon’
He turned and went back to the bridge.
Dennis and Hutchinson were still watching the ship. Within minutes it was a quarter of a mile away. Dennis pulled himself up out of the cold water and onto the top of the container. He instantly turned, held out his hands and helped pull Hutchinson out of the sea also. Together they collapsed onto the hard steel surface.
“What a night!” Dennis said.
“Do you think this thing will stay afloat?”
“I hope so.”
“What do you think is in it?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t we open it?”
“Ha funny!”
The rain was still lashing at them. Hutchinson turned on his side.
“Pete there are lights on the horizon.”
Dennis rolled over to look. With the rising and falling of the container in the churning sea Dennis could make out the lights. One particularly large wave lifted them high enough to see more lights.
“I think it’s Naples Jim.”
“How far out do you think we are?”
“Don’t know. Five miles. Ten. But I think we’re slowly being swept in.”
“Oh good,” Hutchinson said, “I’ve always wanted to see Pompeii.”
Dennis looked at him for a moment then threw back his head and roared with laughter.
“I sure could use a cold beer,” Hutchinson added.
“Yeah me too,” Dennis agreed as the waves brought them closer to land.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Dennis and Hutchinson woke to a chilly dawn. They had spent a cold, uncomfortable night drifting on the container in the Tyrrhenian sea towards the city of Naples. Dennis guessed that they were a couple of miles out and he thanked their luck that they’d not drifted out to sea. A passing ship had spotted them and alerted the Italian navy who had sent a patrol boat out to pick them up.
After being given dry clothes, food and drink, they were detained under house arrest until De Luca had driven to Naples with Natalie to pick them up.
Hutchinson had slept in the car during the drive back to Rome and Dennis had told of their story.
When Sonnenburg saw them walk into his office his face split into a large grin.
“Welcome back to the Vatican,” he said, “And may I say how pleased I am to see you both still in one piece,” he said to Dennis and Hutchinson, “Though I see you are both sporting some nasty bruises. Have you seen a doctor?”
They both nodded.
Sonnenburg gestured towards the large screen on the wall.
“You’ll be interested to know that we have received correspondence from the British military intelligence service. You will probably better know it as MI6.…”
Dennis nodded.
“We are no longer working with Interpol but with respective military authorities on this matter. This means that progress may become a little slower regarding the warrant for Von Werner and his group. His acts have now been classified as terrorism and therefore will merit military intervention. I can tell you that his container ship, the one you were on, the ‘Ocean breeze’ was boarded by Interpol agents accompanied by Italian navy seals. Von Werner had already left the ship. It was found to only contain crew members and none of his mercenaries. Six crew members were arrested, two released and four detained. The ship itself was allowed to continue on schedule because of the itinery of its cargo. It will be docking in Agadir in Morocco in one week.”
Sonnenburg brought up images on the screen.
“Thanks to British intelligence we now have known acquaintances on five more of Von Werner’s associates. For instance, this man.”
“Anatoly Petrov,” Hutchinson read the name on Sonnenburg’s screen.
“Yes. Former Russian agent, ex-military. First gulf war. Served in Afghanistan, Kosovo, virtually anywhere the Russians have been involved in in the last twenty five years, Petrov has been a part of it. Rose to the rank of colonel. In charge of a task force in Iraq he began working for the other side, supplying weapons to various terrorist factions. Has disappeared until now.”
“Sounds like a real nasty piece of work,” Hutchinson said.
Dennis leaned in closer to the screen.
“Mr Dennis, do you have something you wish to add?” Sonnenburg asked.
Dennis studied the face casting his mind back to the sniper on the Ocean breeze.
“I think he was on the ship.”
“You are sure?”
“It was raining hard. It was dark and the ship was rolling and pitching but I did get a good glimpse of him for a split second. I think it was him.”