“We don’t have much time,” Drake said.
“We can help better on deck,” Mai told him.
Together, they forced their way outside.
CHAPTER THIRTY SIX
Alicia stood separate from the queuing passengers, slightly elevated atop a narrow ledge. She had one arm slung around a rail to keep her in place. The other held her HK with the barrel pointed at the floor. The first of the orange lifeboats was full of passengers. A crewmember ran to unhook three large safety bolts to set the lifeboat free. Then, another crewmember pulled on the brake governor, allowing the boat to move. With no windows, all she could see was an oval tube swinging away from its davits and out over the ocean. Then came the sound of clanking and whirring as the boat was lowered. People rushed past her, taking advantage of the new gap to reach the further boats where crewmembers were also waiting.
Alicia had gotten a brief look inside the lifeboat before it closed. It was anything but comfortable in there, these boats designed only for survival and to fit as many people in as possible. Orange pads and harnesses lined the walls at head height. Blue straps hung down, acting as safety belts. The seats were hard plastic and opened up to reveal tools and rations beneath. The engine console at the far end was mounted above a diesel engine and housed lights, a compass, a throttle and the steering wheel.
The boat descended until it was out of sight. Alicia rushed to the rail, checking its progress. It hit the water and then powered toward the rescue boats and the oncoming USS Bainbridge.
Alicia heaved a sigh of relief. Finally, the passengers were headed to safety.
Then, the entire vessel lurched. This was what happened when an increasing weight of water surged into a single place, growing heavier and heavier by the second. Modern ships have different compartments which could be sealed to stop water flooding the ship, but the Devil had disabled the emergency systems. There was nothing to stop the water surging through.
The deck tilted. Alicia held on. A man slid toward her, unable to stop himself. She caught him by the jacket and hauled him close, saving him at the very least from a nasty bang on the head.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now, get down there and jump in that far lifeboat.”
The man ran off, grabbing his partner on the way. They didn’t look back. Alicia steadied more passengers and then saw Drake.
Bollocks. I know what’s coming next.
Mai ran behind the Yorkshireman. Alicia was pleased to see relief in the Japanese woman’s eyes on sighting the Englishwoman, a relief mirrored by the two men running with her, but then the Sprite had to go and bloody ruin it.
“Whoa! Did your nose run into a door?”
“It is a bit wonky.” Drake peered closer.
“You’ll never wear sunglasses again,” Luther stated.
Alicia blanked them all. “I estimate it’ll take another thirty minutes to get everyone off and to safety. Any guesses on how long before we’re at the bottom of the ocean?”
Drake shook his head and passed the question across to the Bainbridge. The answer, when it came, back, wasn’t uplifting.
“Thirty minutes.”
Alicia closed her eyes. Drake turned his eyes to the passengers and the rest of the ship. The true extent of this tragedy was only just unfolding, only now hitting home. His body was full of fear. He hadn’t known why until now. This was race memory, the deep terror that only those that plied the seven seas felt. The depths were rising, the waters flowing up to claim them. The four of them stood motionless, as if in a daze, overseeing the unbelievable drama occurring all around them. The ship’s framework was at breaking point, almost overwhelmed by pressure. Internal and external supports were bending, their metal letting out tortured groans.
A cool wind whipped past them. The sun beat down. The Devil had caused this, engineered this, and he was going to pay.
“Don’t jump,” Alicia screamed. She darted toward a passenger, a young woman with flowing blond hair and a twisted, panic-stricken face. “What are you thinking?”
Alicia jerked the woman down off the rails so that she hit the deck with her tailbone. There was a groan. “We’re six stories high,” Alicia shouted, guessing. “You’ll die!”
“I lost my husband,” she wept. “My . . . my baby. I’ve lost them. I don’t care!”
“Lost them where?” Drake asked.
“Stateroom Five, Deck Five.” She sniffled, staring only at the deck. “We hid in there the whole time. Heard the commotion and came out. That’s when the pirates came for us. Now, I can’t find them.”
Drake examined her. This young woman wore expensive jewelry, items that glistened and glowed and didn’t belong in a normal high street store. There was a look about her that spoke of wealth.
“I know where the pirates are,” he said suddenly, regarding his teammates. “They’re looking for wealthy hostages to take to shore. Shit!”
Alicia shook the woman. “Are they downstairs? Are they down there?”
The woman looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. “I think so. Yes.”
The Yorkshireman spun on his heel, climbing the rail and jumping through a broken window back into the restaurant. Luther followed him. There was a duty here, a duty to save all passengers from the remaining pirates, a duty to capture as many of the enemy as possible and pump them for information, a duty to help men, women and children into those remaining lifeboats, but there was also a duty to look for and find stragglers. To protect those that couldn’t protect themselves.
Drake raced away from the restaurant and into a corridor where Stateroom Five should be. It was on the other side of the ship, the side that was lifting slowly out of the sea. His eyes were tracking the door numbers, his fingers flexing around the butt of his rifle. They found a body on the floor, that of an older woman. She had been stabbed and left to die. Drake felt the rage increase. They reached Stateroom Five and opened the door, scanning the inside.
“Duck!” Drake cried.
Gunfire broke out. He’d managed to count five pirates in the room, all crowded around the far window. The glass had been shattered. Rappelling ropes were secured to a bulkhead. Drake hit the floor and opened fire, catching one of the men in the throat.
Then he rolled aside.
The doorframe and the wall around it were perforated by bullets. Pieces of plaster and MDF flew across the passage, striking the far wall which was now also blasted apart by bullets. Drake sneaked a look back in and saw a pirate balanced on the window ledge, preparing to rappel.
Drake shot him. They heard him screaming all the way down to the sea below.
“We have hostage!” one of the men shouted. “You leave us alone, you can have them.”
Drake didn’t bargain. “Deal. Send them out here.”
There were angry words inside the room. A child cried. A father’s voice tried to quieten him. One of the pirates cursed. “This is our only hostage.”
“We have grenades,” Drake said. “We’ll use them if we have to.”
There came a scream and a quick shuffle of feet. A tall pirate lunged out of the doorway and faced Drake, his skin covered in a sheen of sweat, his eyes wild, his lip snarled. In his right arm he held the baby. In his left he held a pistol.
“You go,” he grated. “Or I shoot.”
The father let out a wail that was cut short. Drake heard him hit the floor. Drake held both hands up and backed away, giving the pirate plenty to occupy his attention.
The man grinned and aimed the gun at Drake.
Mai shot him in the head from behind as Luther reached around to pull the baby to safety.
Drake leapt into the room. The father was crumpled on the floor, face down. One pirate was climbing out of the window. Drake shot the other remaining piece of shit as he stood with arms held high, expecting clemency. Then, he dashed over to the civilian.
“Hey.”
The man looked up. “Zach . . . my son?”
“He’s safe. We have
to get you out of here. Did they target you?”
The man understood Drake’s meaning and nodded. “Said they were gonna ransom us later. Said we had nothing to worry about.”
Drake helped him up and reunited him with his son. Running back to the window, he looked out, down and up, left to right. There were no other signs of pirates, nobody trying to leave with rich hostages. It beggared belief that these men, as the ship sank, would resort to kidnapping people; that they were vile enough to see that option and act on it.
Luther was kicking stateroom doors in along the corridor. Drake joined him and, together, they made their way back to the restaurant.
Ten minutes had passed.
Two more lifeboats had departed, which left about half the passengers waiting. It wasn’t quite as bad as it seemed though, Drake saw. Two more lifeboats were almost fully loaded and a third was opening its gates. Crewmembers worked valiantly, covered in sweat and dirt and, in some cases, blood. Alicia and Mai were rushing between them, helping where they could.
Drake felt the ship let out a massive shudder. In the next second the deck righted itself as a weight of water shifted. At first, he thought that might be good, but then he realized the vessel was sinking faster, the horizon visibly getting higher second by second.
“She’s dead,” Luther said. “She’s done, right now.”
Drake shouted at everyone to run.
CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN
Drake hit the deck at speed.
The ship was foundering, plumes of water frothing up all along the starboard side. Waterfalls streamed out of the lower windows. Debris fell free, pounding at the seas. A large piece of bulkhead smashed into the side of a covered lifeboat, making it judder and bob about. The single orange lifeboat that was currently being lowered to the sea swung and swayed and fought against its rivets, threatening to break away. The voices of screaming people filled the air.
“Away the boats!” Drake could hear, intermittently on the bright seas around the Rabot, the shouted commands of the rescuers as they sheltered the lifeboats, easing them away from harm or shepherding them slowly toward the Bainbridge. As he ran, he saw the bravery of young people patiently waiting their turn to board a lifeboat, the fear of small children, the terror in their parents’ eyes and the way they held protective arms over their girls and boys; the resignation of older people who wanted everyone younger to go before them, the terrible trepidation that made men and women shake in line, their fists clenched, their teeth gritted so hard they might break. This was every side of human nature, from the worst to the very best and beyond . . . to those too terrified to even walk onto the fifth lifeboat as it became available.
Drake shoved three people in the back. More ran forward, blocking his way. Some carried children or dragged loved ones by the hand. Drake broke through the throng. There was some crushing behind him as too many people sought to breach the small door at once.
The ship groaned again, its rivets popping. It juddered down, seeking the black and silent depths of the deep.
In the water, commanders directed the boats and signaled the lifeboat drivers. Choppers waited in the air, their rotors thundering. Four orange boats full of survivors were already free, well away from the floundering Rabot.
The high-pitched cry of a child split the air. Drake spun and saw a young boy’s parents reaching down to collect the boy they had dropped in their haste, panic lighting their eyes. Drake couldn’t do or say anything to help. The boy was lifted and carried safely onto the boat. The Rabot was low in the water now. Drake could see a current swirling up from below, inside the restaurant, and spreading fast.
He counted fifty passengers still on deck.
“One more!” he cried out. “One more boat!”
But the crew were already jumping aboard the last lifeboat they had filled. They were done. They could see the waters rising better than anyone. Above, choppers were descending, their rope ladders unfurled. But not everyone could hang on to a rope ladder.
The Rabot was collapsing, deck upon deck. It was being consumed by an unstoppable, creeping, swirling death. Waves rushed from stern to bow, from port to starboard. Sudden eruptions of water burst through walls, floors and ceilings alike. Fantastic staterooms, luxurious restaurants and expensive shops and casinos were already destroyed.
Alicia was at a lifeboat station. She’d seen the crew in action and now smashed out three safety bars. Instantly, the ropes holding the lifeboat in place loosened. Alicia opened the safety gate and then grabbed the multipoint door. Holding the steel grab handle she opened it and looked inside.
“Looks good. Get them in here.”
Drake shouted but most of the passengers were already with him, watching Alicia. Now, they surged past like the waters they were fleeing from, parting and running around him. Drake glanced back to see a tide headed toward him.
“We don’t have time,” he said.
“Make time,” Alicia said.
“Somebody had to stay here to lower the fucking boat.” His ankles were underwater.
“We’ll do that,” Mai said softly. “We will.”
An incredible growling, creaking sound came from the ship’s substructure. Drake held on tight as the deck tilted again. The last of the passengers leapt into the lifeboat. Alicia locked the door and then Luther lowered it into the churning seas. Winds ripped at their jackets and faces. The hot sun was a bastard, making their jobs even harder. Drake dodged a floating barge of debris, swirling up on deck, and tried to kick it clear of Alicia. He succeeded partially, seeing her hop over what was left. The noise of the dying ship overrode everything.
“I hope to God Volkov and his missus escaped.” Drake sighed.
“Knowing that wily old Russian,” Mai said. “I’d count on it.”
Waves ran across their deck. Drake looked up, staring at the bridge that rose above them. Alicia finished lowering the lifeboat into the water and then came sloshing through a mini-riptide to join them.
“So what do we do now?”
It was a good question. “We jump,” Luther said. “Don’t worry, Drake, if you feel like squealing you can jump with me.”
Alicia gave both men an odd look. “Jumping will be dangerous.”
Mai was staring at her. “Yeah, once your new nose hits the water it’ll act like a fixed rudder, sending you in circles.”
A heavy wave struck Drake’s knees, almost knocking him over. “The turbulence could pull us under the ship,” he said. “If that happens, we’re dead.”
“What the hell else can we do?” Alicia hissed.
He looked up and then grinned. “We climb,” he said. “Faster than you’ve ever climbed before.”
They looked up then and had never seen a more uplifting sight. Hovering above the bridge of the ship, its four rope ladders unfurled, was a black military chopper. And there, leaning out of one of the doors, was Torsten Dahl.
“That is one ugly mug,” Drake said. “But I’ll take it.”
They dropped everything and ran. They jumped and lifted themselves up onto the rail that ran around the outdoor restaurant area, gripping the window ledge. Their gloves helped with sharp edges. They hauled themselves up, grabbing the bottom ledge of the next deck and pulling themselves over. Once on that ledge they used another window frame to climb up to the bridge.
The chopper hovered steady. Drake could see Kinimaka and Hayden staring down. Below, the waters rose and rose, faster and faster now as the bulk of the ship sank beneath the surface. Drake and his friends somehow managed to stay above the swirling, rising surface, climbing a foot at a time. The turbulence created by the ship’s sinking enfolded the vessel, churning waters splashing and leaping at them.
At the bridge, Drake grabbed a rope ladder. He didn’t climb but looked down, waiting for his friends. Alicia came next, ascending onto another and then Luther and Mai. Jumping for the same one.
Instantly, the chopper pulled away, leaning to the right and flying into the skies. Drake looked
down as they lifted clear. Below his feet was a whipped up, rolling mass up water, folding over the enormous ocean liner, claiming it, dragging it down to the infinite deep. The last thing he saw was troubled waters and then he lifted his eyes to the helicopter itself.
Dahl nodded down. “Great job, but a bit theatrical for my taste.”
Drake snorted. “Theater is your mothership. What did you do this time?”
Dahl shrugged. “Fought a sub. Killed it.”
Drake couldn’t hold in a loud laugh. “Mate, you should take your show on the road. If I didn’t hear you say it, I’d never believe it.”
He fell silent then, watching the waters below, seeing the distant orange blobs of lifeboats and the multicoloured flotilla of their rescue ships. The chopper veered away toward the USS Bainbridge.
Sadness filled his heart. No matter how good their efforts had been, no matter how hard they tried, he knew that people had died and, possibly, others had been kidnapped by the fleeing pirates. He would gladly lead the rescue mission. His heart ached for those that hadn’t made it, for those that had died alone and afraid. Truly, he had done all he could.
But there were always those they missed.
This was life. In a single moment, it might never be the same. You fought the hassles by the day, you lived by the hour, you worked by the minute. A normal person never believed their time might suddenly come to an end, that their lot might change in the next minute, or the next. If Drake had the chance, he would tell them all to enjoy every breath, every word, every loving gesture. As a soldier he would tell them to end the day kissing the ones they loved, snuggling the young and old a little tighter and never take one minute, one second for granted.
Life was fleeting.
Live it.
CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT
The Sea Rats Page 20
