The man in the helicopter was firing at the Voyager’s bridge. Joe hoped Billy was safe. He didn’t want another death on his conscience.
Marshall ran full pelt from the other end of the ship, dodging Joe’s canvas tunnels and tents. The helicopter gunman switched its fire to Marshall, who dove for the deck.
Joe took a deep breath. Edison whimpered.
“Sit,” Joe said. “And stay.”
Joe studied the helicopter. With any luck, he’d hit a main rotor blade. He pivoted so the bow and arrow and his arms were outside. Ignoring the pain in his ribs, he lined up on the middle of the rotor disk. He let the arrow fly and moved back inside before his body had time to panic.
He stepped back from the edge of the tent and watched.
His arrow flew straight for twenty (blue, black) yards, entered the rotor disk, and struck a blade. The arrow glanced off the first blade and embedded itself in the next one. The helicopter juddered, spun in a half circle, and crashed straight into the water.
Joe stared, open-mouthed. He hadn’t expected one arrow to be that successful.
Marshall whooped from across the deck and jogged over.
“Nice shooting, Tex!” he said. “Biggest thing I ever took out was a six-foot shark, and it fought me for hours.”
“Do you think they survived the crash?” Joe didn’t want to think that he had taken lives.
“Maybe.” Marshall shrugged. “Most important thing is that we did.”
Joe’s knees went out from under him, and he sat down hard on the deck. They had survived. But not all of them. Vivian was gone. And what about the men in the helicopter? Was he a murderer?
Marshall went to the side of the boat, shouting directions up to Billy, directing him toward a group of survivors.
Joe thought about Vivian, gone, and stared at the deck. He had only a few minutes to pull it together before he had to help the victims of the shipwreck. It was time to save lives instead of taking them.
Edison grabbed his hand between his teeth and tugged. At first, Joe thought the dog was pulling him away from the light, but he quickly realized Edison was tugging him toward the bank of computer monitors Joe had set up to watch the drones and the sonar feed.
The little green window was flashing, and the monitor was beeping. Uncomprehending, Joe gaped. Even if he couldn’t believe it, he knew what that sound meant.
Vivian’s transponder was transmitting.
“She’s up,” Joe shouted. “In the water.”
As incoherent as that sounded, Marshall seemed to understand, because he sprinted straight for the bridge. Joe followed through his tunnels. Holes pockmarked the tunnel. The prince had come much closer to killing him than he’d realized.
The deck moved under Joe’s feet. Marshall had beat him to the bridge and was aiming for something.
Joe studied the screens. Nothing. He brought the drone down low and skimmed it across the tops of the waves.
Just because her transponder was beeping, it didn’t meant that she was alive. He pushed that unwelcome thought aside and worked the drone in a circle, searching.
The drone spotted two (blue) figures in yellow emergency suits. Joe moved in closer. The front swimmer was towing the other, but awkwardly, stroking with one hand.
“Vivian!” Joe shouted.
Marshall and Billy cheered.
“Take the helm,” Marshall ordered. He jogged out the door to the deck, and Joe hurried through his tunnels.
Once Joe reached the deck, he unhooked his tent from its fasteners and pushed it across to the railing where Marshall stood. Joe felt like a hamster in a ball.
But it worked.
Marshall was leaning over the side with a life ring. He tossed it down. Joe pushed up next to him and looked down at the water through the small vinyl window in the tent.
The one-armed figure grabbed the life ring and put it over the head of her companion. Not only had Vivian survived — she’d rescued someone along the way.
She fumbled with something on the other figure’s suit, then waved her hand.
Marshall pulled on the life ring. Bob rushed over to help. Hand over hand, they hauled the ring and its precious cargo out of the water.
Together, the two men lifted a small body onto the deck. Marshall took off the hood. Underneath was a small woman with dark skin and short black hair. Her eyes were closed.
“She’s breathing,” Marshall said. “I’ll see to her. You get Vivian.”
Bob dropped the ring again, and Vivian put it over her head. She waved her arm and Joe and Bob lifted her up. As soon as she was close enough, she grabbed ahold of the railing and flipped herself over one-handed.
“Show off.” Joe dragged her into the tent and gave her a long hug. His ribs hurt, and he didn’t care.
When he finally let her go, Edison barked and licked Vivian’s hand. She removed her hood and took a long breath.
“Real air smells so good,” she said. “You have no idea.”
“That’s the last time I let you go on a mission by yourself,” he said.
“I wanted to go back to the boat with you.” She looked at him. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Broken rib,” Marshall called over his shoulder.
“How did you break your rib?” she asked.
“Puking,” Marshall answered.
“Least. Glamorous. Injury. Ever,” she said.
Joe couldn’t stop grinning.
Vivian punched him on the shoulder. She looked relieved and happy to be alive. He couldn’t blame her.
“Welcome back,” he said.
A moan from the deck and Vivian went back into action. She bent over the woman she’d brought to the surface. “Nahal?”
Nahal held both hands against her chest.
“Looks like she popped some stitches,” Marshall said. “I’ll set up a sick bay in Tesla’s cabin. You men start looking for others to rescue. Wounded first.”
“I’m going back to monitor the radio,” said one of guys. Joe had never learned his name. “I’ve put out a Mayday. The Coast Guard is sending a cutter. It should be here in five hours.”
“Go back to your post,” Marshall ordered.
Nahal struggled to sit up. Vivian knelt next to her.
“Take it easy,” Vivian said.
“Joe Tesla?” Nahal asked.
Joe dropped to his knees next to her. “Yes?”
“Your girlfriend has a jump drive,” she said. “It’s got instructions on how to track down and publish information proving Prince Timgad was trying to start a war.”
“Not his girlfriend,” Vivian snapped.
“A war?” Joe asked.
“It lists his supporters as well. It’s explosive stuff.” Nahal coughed. She looked terrible. “It needs to be released now, before word of the crash gets out and the conspirators disappear like cockroaches in the light.”
He could do that. “I’ll bring my laptop down to the sick bay and get started.”
Chapter 53
A few hours later, the worst was over. Tesla and Nahal had delivered her information to WikiLeaks, The New York Times, Al Jazeera, and a dozen other media outlets. Tesla even had footage from the camera up on the bridge that showed the prince targeting the lifeboat. The prince hadn’t turned up among the survivors, but even if he did, his credibility was ruined.
Vivian was fine with the idea of the prince drowned at the bottom of the sea, like he should have been when all this started, but she could tell it weighed on Tesla. She hoped he’d work through it. The guy had enough neuroses on his plate already.
At least no one was sure about what had happened to the submarine so Joe wasn’t going to add that to his conscience. Nahal seemed to think they’d gotten away. Vivian wasn’t sure one way or the other. Joe agreed with Nahal. Something about the trajectory of the submarine as it sank.