by K. T. Tomb
“I understand.”
“Focus on your mission and I’ll focus on mine. If things go as planned, we’ll be drinking tea together beside a crackling fire later this evening. If not… well, I don’t think that needs to be explained further.” Chen glanced at her watch, which made Savannah glance at hers as well. “We have about 10 minutes until we should be coming into the landing zone. Our latest update tells us that Travis has not been moved off of the yacht at this point, but that there is some activity taking place, more or less right on schedule, on the beach. So, sit back, relax and enjoy the next few minutes.”
“Got it.”
“And set your headset back on the other frequency, so that you’ll know what’s going on and be ready to move when the pilot gives the call.”
Savannah switched the headset back to the other frequency. There was a great deal of chatter, mostly in Chinese, but some of it was in English. To her, even the short code words and quick rattling between pilots and other team members was a foreign language. Not having been trained in assault tactics, she was at a distinct disadvantage when it came not only to communication, but she was also extremely nervous and unsure of herself. Geez, Travis, what have you gotten me into this time?
She studied the map on her phone for a few minutes and then closed her eyes, trying to picture what it looked like on the ground. She closed her eyes and controlled her breathing. Focus, Savannah, Travis needs your very best. She’d been in tough situations with Alpha before and she had learned that once she was in action, she performed a great deal better than she had thought she would in those situations. Her ability to hone in on one particular thing and hold firmly to it had gotten her through. She had to believe that it would serve her well once more.
“Go private.” Chen’s voice suddenly broke into her thoughts.
She pushed the button.
“Our latest intel still places Travis on the yacht, so we will be dropping you at the best landing area near the assault craft. Move quickly toward the landing craft. You will have green thread on your map and a blinking dot that will show your progress during ingress and regress, so there is no reason for you to get lost or off track. I’m turning it on now so that you can start getting used to it.”
Savannah saw the blip light up on her screen and the green ribbon extending to the location of the assault craft.
“Once you arrive at the assault craft, you will use the code word ‘panda’ in order to keep from being shot or having your throat slit.”
“Panda. Got it.”
“That’s it. Get off your ass. We’re 30 seconds to touch. Drop the headset and get moving.”
Savannah stuffed the cell phone inside her dark jacket, jerked off the headset and moved toward the doorway, bracing herself on the bulkheads. The ground seemed to be rushing up toward her at a very high rate of speed and she felt her stomach lurch and the familiar dryness in her throat that went along with being on the brink of diving into danger. Stay focused, Savannah, Travis needs you. As the ground came closer, she crouched in the doorway, ready to leap to the ground the second the skids touched it. She tried to steady her breathing and picked out a landing point for her feet. She had to clear the skid, which seemed to be a hanging out in front of her a very long way. If she didn’t get past it and hooked a toe on it… She didn’t have time to finish the thought as the skid touched the ground softly and she sprang into the air.
She had leapt well clear of the skid, but when her feet hit the ground, her feet buckled and she tumbled over. She panicked as the thought raced through her mind that she had hit the skid and was going to be dragged back up into the air dangling upside down. When she rolled back to look, she saw that the helicopter was already more than 20 feet into the air and she was safely on solid ground.
She immediately rolled to her feet and reached into the inside pocket of her jacket. Thank God the phone was still working and she hadn’t crushed it when she hit the ground. She pulled up the map and took note of the blinking green dot in relation to the green ribbon that would lead her to the assault craft. Below the green dot was a timer that was counting down from 30 minutes. She held the phone out in front of her, faced the direction that she believed was the correct one and started walking. An icon suddenly appeared on the screen. Of course, left. She moved to her right and after a few moments, the icon disappeared.
After a few minor corrections along the way, she had finally gotten the hang of using the map and stepped out more confidently, though she was painfully aware of the fact that she had already used up two minutes getting started.
Okay Travis, here I come. I hope this isn’t a trap.
Chapter Thirteen
Though he hadn’t had a great deal of time to explore the boat before and after breakfast, he had learned a great deal from what he had seen and from what he had gathered from the men who sat around the table. He should have seen what they were from the outset and known that he had been led into a trap, but dressed as they had been and the way that they had presented themselves, he had simply accepted them at first glance, focusing his attention on Mayer. He’d been dead wrong and during breakfast, the proof was made painfully obvious to him.
The confidence that he’d seen in the men who had been playing poker the night before was demonstrated in a much different way. Their smug attitudes were those of men confident in their ability to kill. They looked upon him like he was barely a waste of their time to acknowledge, though each of them gave him a quick glance and a smirk that communicated their disdain. There was a tension present in the air as they ate; the type of tension that is not born out of nervousness, but out of wary eagerness.
Outside the cabin and on the deck, Travis had also discovered something else. He had been able to make out the jagged outline that signified land to the west as well. Having studied the geography of the area, he had to assume that they were somewhere near the northern portion of the island of Sri Lanka and between it and the tip of the Indian mainland in the Palk Strait. He wondered if they had already navigated the very tricky patch known as Adam’s Bridge. Adam’s Bridge or Rama’s Bridge was a narrow strip of land that had once connected Sri Lanka to the mainland until sometime in the late 15th century when it was finally broken apart by a cyclone. Through the years, deeper channels had been cut between what had become small islands and was passable for ships, depending upon their drafts and the tide. It was somewhat easier for a yacht of the size of Mayer’s.
His speculation soon stopped as he noted that a slight course change had occurred while they were dining and the sun had moved from approaching amid-ship on the starboard side to a position that brought it closer to approaching the starboard bow. Depending on how much further the yacht came about, their destination would either be somewhere among the cluster of islands in the Palk Strait or they were further north and would be approaching the northern shore of the main island of Sri Lanka.
He had stayed on deck for as long as he had been able after breakfast, not only to take in the fresh air, but to attempt to determine their destination and have at least that bit of information in his mind before his freedom was completely taken away. He doubted that it would do him any good, but one never knew when an opportunity for escape might present itself and the extra knowledge might be important. If among the islands, there might be a chance, if along the northern coast, there would be little opportunity.
His speculation was rendered useless, however, when Mayer appeared to him on the deck.
“I see that you have played the better set of odds in the hand that you were dealt,” Mayer commented.
“I suppose that you were hoping that I’d make a run for it, or a swim, as the case may be?”
“Actually, I was hoping that you would play the odds.” Mayer smiled. He wrinkled his brow. “I actually like you, Travis. After watching the way that you play poker, I’ve grown to admire you. Under different circumstances, I think I would be able to call you a friend or, at least, a business associate. It’s really t
oo bad that we wound up on the wrong side. In fact, if you weren’t so valuable as a bargaining chip with the Tigers, I would be talking to you about working together.”
“What possible mutual interests could we have?”
“You’d be surprised, Travis. Not that it makes any difference, but we actually do have mutual interests.”
“I’m not interested in your crooked diamond smuggling scheme.”
“Is that what you think this is? Travis, you’re a bit narrow-minded about things, don’t you think?”
“I just happen to be a fan of a higher ethical standard.”
“Except when it suits your interests to follow a lower standard.”
He was right, in a sense. He’d heard Savannah rail at him on the subject before. However, he wasn’t the one who was smuggling diamonds in order to fund the Tiger Terrorists and destabilize the area. After having considered things, he was beginning to form a picture of Mayer’s mission and of whom he worked. He was working or a shadier side of the U.S. government, but in a completely private and deniable capacity. With Sri Lanka looking toward their neighbors to the north for trade, namely, Russia and China, the United States was being squeezed out. That squeezing was not sitting well with those who had major economic interests in the area. No doubt Mayer was one of those who had a great interest there and the Chinese connection partially explained Monica Chen’s interests as well, perhaps she was more than just a common criminal. It really made no difference; thinking about her sent a chill running up his spine.
“Let’s just say that I’m not particularly fond of your methods.” It was the best comeback that he had, given the fact that a portion of what Mayer had said about ethics was true.
“Well, fond or not, our situation doesn’t change. Maybe after this is all over, I’ll look you up again.”
“Why not just stop what you’re doing and sail away from here? You could return the diamonds to their rightful owner and forget all of this.”
Mayer laughed. “You had me believing that you’re a realist. Again, I’m sorry that we’re in the situation that we are, but I have to carry out my plan. Unfortunate as it is, you’ve actually presented me with something that is much more valuable than all of the diamonds. It’s nothing personal, I assure you.”
“It’s just business. The bad guy always says that.”
“I’m a bit hurt that you think of me as the bad guy.” The fake pout on his lips didn’t match the sparkle in his eyes.
“I can think of several clichés that I’d like to give in response to that.”
“Regardless of how you might feel about me.” He became much more serious. “I have a business meeting to prepare for, so I’m going to have to ask you to return to your cabin and remain there for the remainder of our trip. Someone will send for you when it is time for you to be exchanged.”
Mayer led him back to his cabin, ushered him in and stopped in the doorway. “Relax, Travis, you might get a few bumps and bruises out of all of this, but it is even in the best interest of the Tigers to keep you alive.”
“If it’s such an easy thing, I’ll invite you to join me in it, or take my place.”
“You see, Travis, that sense of humor of yours is one of the things I like about you. It will serve you well to keep it intact,” he laughed. As he started to pull the door closed behind him, he made one more comment. “I like you Travis. Please play the safe odds and don’t try anything stupid.”
Travis did not have time to respond as Mayer closed the door behind him and turned the key in the lock. The sound of it being slid into place was a stark reminder that in spite of the generally civil words that Mayer had spoken, he was still a prisoner of the man and a part of his plan. There was one more thing that he had gathered while they had been speaking. The sun was directly in front of the bow, so they were heading due east. The northern coast, Pedro’s Point perhaps?
Travis knew that he had little chance of making an escape without being shot on the spot. What Mayer had said about his being more valuable alive than dead made perfect sense and it was certainly better to play the odds, but being a gambler sometimes meant that you needed to take risks. His cabin would be watched and his opportunities for escape would be limited, but that didn’t mean that he might not keep a sharp eye on what was going on and wait for an opportunity. At that moment, it was better to start preparing himself for whatever chance came once they dropped anchor at their destination.
It wasn’t long before the yacht was much nearer to the northern coast and he could see it passing by slowly beyond. Since they were traveling parallel to the coast, he knew that his guess had been correct; they were likely heading for Pedro’s Point. Not knowing of any harbors off the coast, he had to assume that they would drop anchor in deeper water and move in toward the beach in smaller craft. In one way, that was helpful. It would mean that more of the crew would be taken up navigating the small craft toward the beach and leave a skeleton crew aboard. Fewer people might give him a better opportunity to escape. He would bide his time and wait for that opportunity. And Savannah always says that I’m illogical and spontaneous.
He had wondered about Savannah since he had awakened. He’d left the note and specifically named the Easter Ecliptic in it. Alpha didn’t have sufficient assets in the area. What could Savannah do? If he could contact her or Thyri, perhaps he could keep a low profile long enough for someone to come get him. What other options were there after all?
The time spent planning his escape and what he would do once he was free passed by quickly when the yacht drifted to a stop and the anchor was dropped. He could feel his nerves begin to become more active as he waited. Luckily, the starboard side was adjacent to the beach, so he would be able to watch the small craft as they headed in. I’ll let them get more than halfway in before I make my move.
The moment that the thought passed his mind, he heard the lock on the cabin door slide back and the door open. A very large member of the crew entered and cuffed his hands behind his back.
“Take him down into the hold and lock those cuffs to the frame,” Mayer ordered. “Sorry, Travis, but I have to make sure that you stay put while we go ashore. We’ll be back for you after a bit. Just keep your cool and it will all be over with soon.”
Travis decided not to respond. What was the point? Words had come to mean very little between the two of them anyway. He was escorted rather rudely to his place in the hold and handcuffed to a very solid structural member. He was left there in the dark while preparations to go ashore were made throughout the vessel. So much for my escape plan.
Chapter Fourteen
She wasn’t sure what was more stressful: stumbling around as she approached the assault craft, being accosted by Chen’s man at the boat or the high speed ride on the waves that took her out into the open sea and toward the yacht anchored there. She’d put the phone and the nagging sight of the clock as the numbers clicked much too rapidly toward zero. Holding on inside the small boat had become much more important at that point.
Once they were well out, they ran a parallel course to the beach and approached the yacht from the seaward side where an assault would least be expected. She was certain that they were sitting ducks for anyone who saw them and as they approached, she expected the alarm to be sent out at any moment and gunfire to rake their tiny craft. Chen’s man was well trained, however, and they slipped in next to the port side of the yacht without notice. They were aided by the fact that gunfire had begun to erupt on the beach and had likely drawn the attention of anyone aboard in that direction. Monica’s team had begun their attack.
A line with a grappling hook was sent over the rail above their heads and pulled snug. She watched the operator of the small craft scramble up the side of the yacht with ease and wondered if she could even climb the rope, let alone quickly enough to make her of any use. In moments, however, a rope ladder was dropped over the side. She was glad that they were not relying on her rope climbing skills from gym class. She climbed the swa
ying ladder and tried to stay focused on her mission and stay positive rather than allow the dozens of negative distractions take hold of her.
Once over the railing, she crouched alongside her guide and waited. They duck-walked, in a crouched position until they came to the first crew member. Her guide motioned for her to stay put, disappeared for an instant and then returned a few moments later and signaled her forward. Three more crew members who were topside were dispatched in the same way and her guide began to move about with a bit more confidence.
“Where would they keep him?” she asked once her guide had relaxed a bit.
The steady gunfire and occasional explosion that was taking place on the beach continued to provide plenty of background noise as they moved about the yacht and she couldn’t help but wonder how the battle on the beach was progressing. If Chen’s forces failed, Mayer’s men or the Tigers might be returning early. That would not serve her interests well. She pulled out her phone and glanced at the counting clock. Way too much time had passed. They didn’t have time to search every cabin on the yacht.
“We should look in hold,” her guide responded in accented English.
Not familiar with nautical terminology, she wasn’t sure what the hold was or where it was located. “Where’s that?”
“Below deck. It like storage room. Very good place to keep prisoner, I think.”
“Probably. Lead the way.”
Trying to forget the phone and the rapidly decreasing time limit, Savannah followed her guide below deck and through the narrow corridor that stretched from bow to stern along the beam.
“Check all door,” her guide said. “We have little time. You open, I look.” He produced a silenced pistol from inside his one piece suit and held it in front of his face, pointed toward the upper deck.
She took hold of the first door handle, turned it cautiously, took a deep breath and pushed it open. There was not telling what lay behind the door; perhaps a pistol leveled toward them that would make short work of their rescue operation. Her guide quickly stepped through, searched the room and then returned.
