Part 16 (1/2)

”That is the craziest s.h.i.+t I have ever heard. If you think the medal-of-honor is going to look good laying on top of your coffin, you can count me out.”

”All I am saying is we should engage then pull a tactical fallback maneuver through the watertight doors. Then, we can make a break topside through the service hatch up stern.”

”You think they won't have that covered?

Those creeps are probably waiting for us to do that right now. My guess is they will make a decoy a.s.sault, driving us out of our little hidey-hole so they can gun us down when we scoot out of the hatch in the rear.”

”You are over thinking. These sc.u.mbags have no idea who they are dealing with. Let's seize the initiative, while we still got chance.”

Buchanan raised a wry eyebrow. ”Yeah, you got it. Who's sounding like General Patton now?” Kellerman scowled. ”Point taken Mr.

Tactics. Why don't you scurry across the corridor, you are starting to give me a migraine.”

Buchanan sniffed and gave her a steady look. When the s.h.i.+t hits, you follow my lead, we open up together-short bursts until you are out of ammo. Then pop a fresh clip and fall back to the hatch, while I lay down suppressing fire. Are we

clear?”

As the response curled across her lips, she was already too late, because Buchanan had slipped away into the gloom, as silent as a pa.s.sing shadow. Then there was silence.

Silence for a long time.

As the slow minutes pa.s.sed like hours, every creak and groan of the s.h.i.+p filtered into the dark metal world below decks. The distant lap of the ocean moving against the hull, mixed with the soft rhythmic thrum of the idling generators in the power plant. The smell of oil and diesel fuel hung heavy in the air. Kellerman felt the weight of the M16 pulling at her arms-felt the hot perspiration running through her fingers, as the fetid humidity closed in, like the grip of a dungeon cell.

Down the corridor, a dim halo of light trickled down from the forward hatch. When they came, they would slide down from above. Except, they weren't coming. They were holding off. Maybe they were waiting things out in the hope their prey would make a mistake? Or perhaps they were laying explosive charges, so they could scuttle the Nautilus, sending her and what remained of the crew to the bottom of the ocean. Who would find them then? The Pacific was ten miles deep maybe more out here, and they were way off course, heading south on the fast moving ocean currents. Even with the latest Navy sonar it would take years to trace the wreck. By that time their long dead corpses would have dissolved into the ocean floor, never to be seen again. Kellerman shuddered, then gritted her teeth and renewed her grip on the M16. Thinking crazy helped nothing, all it did was chisel morale-let the demons of doubt move in, so they could gnaw away at her confidence. Kellerman frowned hard, then shook her head, trying to banish the negative thoughts. She squinted down the corridor. She couldn't see or hear Buchanan. He had disappeared into the encroaching darkness.

Silence.

How long would they, or could they wait? Kellerman thought about Captain alvares. Heung had shot him good. Probably grazed an artery judging by the amount of blood. How long could the poor b.a.s.t.a.r.d last with a wound like that- minutes-hours? Not much more than that, certainly, and they were days from the nearest land. alvares was probably dead already. And then there was the rest of the crew. Once the shooting started, the pirates would start killing hostages for sure. Maybe they had killed them all already- maybe she was trapped alone with Buchanan-just the two of them together, fighting off a whole boatload of armed men.

They would need food and water and ammunition and- The sound of feet-moving across the deck above.

What the h.e.l.l were they doing up there? What in the h.e.l.l did they- The figure slid down through the forward hatch faster than a firefighter down a stationhouse pole. Kellerman's eyes popped wide. A flush of perspiration chilled her. She felt her tongue swelling hot and dry-she tried to suck a quick breath, like the instructors in the Academy had taught her, but there was no time, because fractions of a second later the shooting started. A wall of bullets came bouncing down the corridor towards her, accompanied by the ghastly flicker of gunfire. The noise was intense, louder than anything she had ever heard, As the hot bullets burned past her, Kellerman felt her finger tightening instinctively against the trigger. She held back. Wait. Buchanan had told her to follow his lead. But maybe he was. .h.i.t? Cut down in the opening salvo? What then?

Another blast of gunfire-then another.

Kellerman dipped her head back instinctively, but held her M16 high and ready. Another second-give it another second.

More dark figures sliding down the ladder, moving so fast you could hardly see them. Kellerman swallowed. What the h.e.l.l was Buchanan waiting for, it had to be now, or they would be overrun for sure.

She held back, standing frozen in the darkened door way. They had to see her. Surely they had to see her?

37.

Oahu, Hawaii As she stepped out of the shadows, Calista Johnston's face looked tight and thin. Her black pitiless eyes licked over Karyn's body, glowing with a wild and unspeakable pa.s.sion. Beside her, looming in the darkness, the unmistakable figure of Enrique the personal a.s.sistant. He slouched forward and leaned in against the doorway, examining Karyn from close-quarters. His breath wafted, thick with the smell of cigarettes and booze. He stared heavy lidded, his narrow gigolo lips undulating with l.u.s.t. ”You look real-nice, in your cute little dress,” he said at last. ”That number you're wearing standard-government issue?”

Karyn gave him a thin look.

”You must excuse Enrique, manners are not his strong point,” said Calista Johnston. She stepped forward. ”It appears you are lost Ms. Kane. Were you looking for something?”

”A friend of mine actually.”

”A friend?” said Calista Johnston, her thin- penciled eyebrows rising high. ”We like friends, don't we Enrique?”

Enrique gave a filthy chuckle. ”Yeah, we like friends,” he drawled in a thick accent, his heavy eyelids fluttering upwards to reveal dilated pupils. He flipped a stick of gum into his mouth and began masticating lazily, like a sad-eyed dairy cow. ”We like girlfriends best,” he said. ”Ain't that right Calista?”

Calista Johnston flashed her too perfect grin, her dark eyes roving once more across Karyn's body. ”I am not sure that Ms. Kane wants to be our friend, do you Ms. Kane?”

”It's a little soon after your husband's death to be making new friends, don't you think Calista?”

Calista Johnston pouted. ”How predictably jejune of you Ms. Kane. I had high hopes that we might have an altogether more stimulating relations.h.i.+p. Sadly, I can see you are one of those annoyingly a.s.siduous women, who think more of their so-called career than they do almost anything else. I must say I am disappointed my dear.”

”Brad Verner,” said Karyn flatly.

Calista Johnston raised her chin imperiously. ”Not a name I am familiar with my dear. Is that the friend you are looking for? I don't remember seeing his name on the guest list, do you Enrique?”

Enrique masticated gum and gave a happy sneer. ”Not on the guest list,” he said, by way of confirmation.

”So, there we have it, ” said Calista Johnston brightly, ”If your friend isn't on the guest list, he cannot possibly be here. You will have to give him a call. It really is too bad my dear.” Calista Johnston looked faux pouty and added, ”A most unfortunate state of affairs-your superiors at the Department of Justice working you as hard as they do. Don't you ever get any time off?”

The security of the United States comes first,” said Karyn.

Again Calista Johnston's eyebrows rose northwards. ”One would imagine that the security of the United States could take care of itself. So many little people working in little ways like an army of termites chewing their way through a big idea. It is a pity that you should be involved in such a thankless endeavor Ms. Kane. Perhaps you should think of your future and consider a move to the private sector. I am sure you would find the change of scene most rewarding. Wouldn't you agree Enrique?”

Enrique gave Karyn a crooked smirk, and nodded slowly, as he masticated his gum open- mouthed. ”Rewarding,” he parroted. ”Very rewarding, for a beautiful lady such as this.”

Karyn looked into his drug-fuelled eyes and almost smiled, thinking how it would feel to take out this unpleasant little creep permanently. Three quick moves and he would be dead. She had killed with fewer moves. But in this case the extra strikes would be an indulgence, a treat to herself for having to swallow down his close-quarters bulls.h.i.+t. Unfortunately, such a play would jeopardize the strictly limited ground her investigations had gained thus far. Big picture thinking could be a real drag sometimes. But, the implications of this ugly little approach were filtering in hard and fast now. Calista Johnston and her creepy little familiar were hooked into the very highest echelons of the Deng Tao conspiracy. What's more, they were sounding her out and not just for a hot-tub hula-hula session. They wanted her to buy in to the big idea and step aboard the Deng Tao express to a happier-clappier future. As Karyn weighed the implications, she sensed peripheral movement-white-jacketed stewards closing in from all angles.

”Tell me,” asked Karyn. ”What is it like working in the private sector?”

The white-jacketed stewards were with them now, standing around her in a semi-circle, with hard expressionless faces.