“Okay, I think we can make it.”
Immediately he heard her shoes touch the fiberglass behind him. Two seconds later there was a thud followed by an “ouch.”
“You have to stay low until you clear those two tanks,” he whispered.
There might have been a soft, no shit, from the shadows, but the tap of her fingers on his calf told him she was ready to move.
Jack navigated the narrow crawlspace until reaching the engines where the radius expanded. Here he could wait for Olivia to squirm in beside him. Her rushed breath dusted his cheek and her groping hand settled high on his thigh.
“Oh,” she whispered. “I was looking for your hand.”
Jack slid it over hers and kept her palm rooted on his thigh. He had turned off the flashlight to preserve its power. He knew the layout well enough to manage it in the dark. Tracing his free fingers along a chain of clamped hoses he said quietly, “The exterior hatch is about two feet away. When I open it we have to be ready to move fast.” He hesitated, listening for footsteps, but all was quiet. “As soon as you get out, keep your right hand against the stern until it touches the kayak. It should be about three feet away. I will move ahead to the other end of the kayak. Feel for the straps holding it up, and find the buckle to free the strap. The kayak weighs about 60 lbs. We’ll feed it forward, towards me, and I’ll swing it down over the dive platform.”
“All without anyone seeing or hearing us?” she asked incredulously.
“It’s all we’ve got,” he replied.
Olivia squeezed his thigh. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
As she withdrew her hand, he caught it. “Be careful, Olivia,” he uttered earnestly. “If anything happens, worry about yourself. Do you understand? Don’t think about anything else.”
In the tight confines, he felt her silky hair brush against his skin as she nodded. She clutched his fingers and then released them.
It was time.
Jack inched forward on his knees and felt for the steel pull latch. Before tugging he paused to listen. The churn of the ocean overpowered any manmade sound. He twisted the latch and gently pushed against the suction around the perimeter. Finally, the panel snapped open about an inch and he glimpsed a speckled night sky. Holding the door ajar he awaited an outburst, or worse, gunfire. Only the rhythmic cadence of the waves prevailed.
In the ambient light he could see a sliver of Olivia’s face—a flash of one unnerved eye. He locked onto that gaze and mouthed—one, two, three.
Launching into the night, he cringed at the sound of his boot against the laminated deck. He didn’t stop, though. Keeping contact with the wall, he touched the kayak, and followed its contour until he reached the far end. Close behind, he heard Olivia’s guarded tread followed by the hiss of the strap sliding through the metal clasp.
Damn, she’s fast.
Drawing the belt through the clamp, he grabbed the rim of the kayak and took its weight. If it hit the deck, they were screwed. As soon as he heard Olivia’s strap slip off he hitched the kayak over his shoulder, carefully rotating so that he could lower it onto the dive platform.
A door opened on deck. The orange flare of a cigarette bounced along the perimeter of the rail. Jack froze. The deck lights did not reach the dive platform, but if the man were to walk to the stern railing and glance down he’d surely see their shadows.
Divine intervention motivated the man to head aft. They had to move fast. Dropping the kayak down onto the board as discreetly as possible, he waved Olivia into place. She climbed in, a yellow-tipped paddle clutched in her pale hand. Jack quickly followed, and without any preamble, used his paddle to shove them off the platform.
Shouts came from inside the Odyssey. Two men gathered under the top deck light just outside the cabin doorway where he and Olivia had been confined.
Jack slipped the tip of his paddle into the ocean and began a furious stroke. Olivia followed suit. The momentum of the Odyssey helped to separate them quickly, but the engines were promptly cut back as it became evident their prisoners had escaped.
“The strobes will be next,” he rasped with exertion. “Stay down.”
“I just wish this damn thing wasn’t painted neon orange,” she snarled.
Olivia stayed in pace, their joint motion making minimal progress against the whim of the ocean. One wave could render them blind to the Odyssey−one wave could propel them right back to the ship.
A shaft of light sliced through the black water. The beacon mounted to the aft deck swiveled in search of them. Wind and the current had already moved the kayak well off the port side. The beam of light fell about five yards short before it began its backward swing. With each ensuing pass the kayak drifted further and further from its radius.
Agitated voices drifted across the water as the Odyssey lumbered into a slow circle. Jack and Olivia paddled in the opposite direction, the exertion helping to stave off the freezing temperature.
After several minutes of maximum effort, Jack pulled his paddle in and whispered, “Hold up.”
Olivia collapsed the oar across her lap, her erratic breath billowing puffs of smoke around her. In the pale light of the stars her silhouette pumped on each deep inhalation.
“They’re moving−” she gulped, “−away.”
The lights of the Odyssey bobbed in the ocean some fifty yards away, moving steadily in the opposite direction. It was a temporary relief. They would undoubtedly circle back and possibly catch the kayak with the search beacon.
They had to keep paddling, but not without conscious direction. Intermittent clouds obstructed some of the stars. He couldn’t locate the Little Dipper, but the Big Dipper was highlighted in all its glory. He traced the top of the cup until he located Polaris, the North Star. Another quick scan and he located Orion’s belt. Between the cross-reference of the Northern star and the right-most star of Orion’s belt, he began paddling in an easterly direction.
Olivia had caught her breath but he could tell now that she was shivering. She seemed glad to be active again.
“This isn’t so bad,” she kept her voice low, knowing the acoustics carried far.
“Yes it is.” His oar smacked the water−a venue to vent his anger. “You shouldn’t be in this position.”
“And you should?” she challenged. “Life sucks. But if you have a chance to take it into your control−you do it!”
“How do you manage to always stay positive?”
“Probably from my father. That man was a walking bottle of sunshine. I’m sure that even down to the last minute he was boasting about that swordfish.”
That notion sobered Jack.
“We’re going to be okay, Olivia. The sun will be up in a few hours. The fishing boats will come out. Land isn’t that far away.”
“And if the Odyssey circles back?”
“That’s not keeping up with your Miss Positivity role.”
“I’m no Mary Poppins, Jack. I’m a realist. I want to go home. I don’t want to die on this ocean.”
Jack set his paddle across his lap and reached across the span between them, locating her hand and clutching it. “I know.”
“And when I do get back home, I want to find your uncle. I want to find out who the hell Hawkins is, or who he represents, and I want to find out what happened to the Eclipse ship.”
“Hawkins knows our questions will never end.” He released her hand. “It’s why we had to escape before he had a chance to−”
Kill us.
As surreal as it sounded, that seemed the only path for the likes of Hawkins and his cagey constituency.
Over the roll of the waves he could hear the chattering of her teeth.
“How cold are you?” he asked.
“Damned cold,” she emphasized. “But we can’t cuddle right now. We need to keep moving.” There was a slight pause and she added, “I see your teeth. You’re smiling.”
A chuckle rumbled deep in his throat.
“Yes I am, Miss McKay. Yes I am. You ha
d me at cuddling.”
Perhaps he caught a flash of her teeth as well.
In the distance the Odyssey’s lights were mere pinpoints on the black stretch of sea. Water took on a sinister element at night. A thousand shark fins could be circling their kayak unbeknownst to them. Silently they kept up their crisscross rhythm.
Still eyeing the stars, he heard Olivia say, “Georgie is probably camped out on my doorstep right now. My phone ran out of charge before we boarded the Algonquin. I’m still surprised they didn’t take it from me.”
“I don’t think they cared about yours as much as mine. They grabbed it as soon as we were moved to the Odyssey. They had been tracing it anyway. They knew all about the calls from the BLUE-LINK woman.”
“Well, I don’t have a charger so mine is as good as an anchor right now.” Olivia’s shoulders shrugged. “Anyway, I’m a big Bear Grylls fan.” The splash of her paddle mingled with the waves. “I think I can survive no matter where you deposit me.”
Jack snorted. “I believe that.”
Glancing up from his task, he looked towards the east. An almost negligent paling of the horizon brought him hope.
“Not too many are awake to see the horizon before dawn,” Olivia observed reverently. “It’s not beautiful yet. No rosy colors. In fact, right now you just squint, trying to convince yourself that the night sky is a shade lighter in the distance−almost as if England turned on its lights and you’re catching the glow from that.”
“Not too much longer,” he mentioned quietly, certain that the horizon had paled.
“We need some light−and some heat.”
“We could still try that cuddling thing,” he offered.
Olivia puffed. “If this water wasn’t so frigid I would splash you right now.” With a lethargic sweep of her paddle, she hesitated in mid-motion. “Jack—what do we do if we make it back? Where do we go? Aren’t we just in the same situation—waiting and worrying that they’ll hunt us down again?”
“There are authorities we can go to, as long as we’re careful. I have to believe in that. But when we return,” he slashed the water, “we return slinging. We go directly to the press. If they sense a story−a conspiracy−they can’t be stopped. They are more powerful than whoever Hawkins works for.”
“I like it! I−”
Olivia’s paddle paused in mid-swing. She gaped at something over his shoulder. He glanced back to see the blossoming horizon, a burnished mauve carpet spread out to herald the arrival of the sun.
It was not that stunning vista that arrested her, though. It was the hulking silhouette of a ship that just appeared against that chimerical line. It bobbed in and out of sight−a trick of the waves. Jack squinted. The boat was unidentifiable by the lights alone. If it was a fishing boat they were saved. If it was the Odyssey, they were doomed.
Urgency revved them into action. The golden crown of the sun cracked the horizon. In its wake, Olivia’s face was cast in deep shadow. Shimmering highlights scored her hair and face. As his back was to the ship, he concentrated on paddling and relied on her feedback.
“Can you distinguish it yet?”
Dawn bathed over her forehead, revealing her frown. “I’m not familiar with it as well as you, but I’d guess that’s the Odyssey.”
“Shit.”
“They’re heading this way, but it doesn’t appear they’re narrowing in on us. They’re circling.” She plunged her oar into the ocean. “It’s just our crap luck that this sweep has us in their crosshairs. What I’d give for a blue kayak right now.”
A pack of seagulls passed overhead. Their direction inspired Jack. They were heading towards land.
“Ninety-eight percent of the time, you’d want a bright orange kayak out on the open sea.”
Moisture curled the edges of Olivia’s hair. Her arms pumped with urgency. “The story of my life. I always fall in the two percentile.”
Her demeanor in a crisis was only one of many things he admired about this woman.
“Olivia,” he uttered, “it’s okay to be scared.”
“What?” Flustered, she gaped at him. “Of course I’m scared. But I’m not going down without a fight. If they expect me to hold my wrists out for easy handcuffing—they’re in for a rude awakening.” She sculled the water angrily. “I’ll use this damn paddle to bash them over the head if need be.”
Jack patiently waited for her energy to wane. Eventually her shoulders slumped and she gazed forlornly at the advancing cutter.
“It’s okay, Olivia,” he repeated. “You are the strongest woman I’ve ever met.”
It was true. He had run into some hardcore females in military school. In grad school, some women were competitive to the point of being malicious. But, none of them came across as strong.
“Strong,” she spat, but her heart wasn’t into it. “I’m never strong enough. I end up with a shiner because I didn’t protect myself properly.”
“Olivia,” he tried to stop her self-condemnation, but she wasn’t finished.
“The day after my family’s accident I set out in a boat just a tad larger than this. No one was giving me answers so I was going to find them myself.” Desperate eyes grabbed his. “I failed.”
“Oh, hey,” his throat constricted as he reached forward and wrapped his hand around her shoulder, “you didn’t fail, and you know it. You were desperate. You’re staring at the prime example of how desperate decisions can compromise a person.”
In the path of the rising sun, Olivia’s full lips cracked into a smile. “So you’re saying we’re idiots with good hearts?”
Frigid air tickled his windpipe as he coughed. “Yeah,” he chuckled. “I guess that’s what I’m saying.”
The Odyssey was closing in now. A hulking black profile against the red and gold spikes of sunrise.
“It’s over,” she whispered.
“Let’s not concede that just yet,” he replied feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Where are you, Warren?
“Turn to your left slightly. Northeast.”
“But, by the track of the Odyssey, it looks like they’ve seen us. We can’t out-paddle them.”
“No, but as you said, I’m not going to offer up my wrists and wait for them to handcuff me. I’m going to friggin row until my hands bleed.”
Olivia’s lips curled up and her cheeks glowed in the brightening sky.
“You know what, Jack?” she mused. “I’m beginning to like you.”
Jack poured his muscles into moving the kayak. “Now that’s incentive for me to get us out of this mess.”
***
An admirable declaration, but the spirit behind it was squelched once he discovered the contour of an oncoming vessel. It was moving in behind Olivia. She had not noticed it yet as she busily crisscrossed her paddle.
At first glance he wanted to believe it was a fishing boat—an innocent charter—a goddamn whale-watching tour—
But those were all pipedreams. The velocity at which this craft was approaching, and the precision of its course belayed any innocence. Their kayak was now the bull’s-eye of two converging boats.
“They’ve sent in for a backup,” he yelled, no longer concerned about keeping his voice down. The din of rallying motors would wipe it out anyway.
“What!” Olivia craned her neck, her hair whipping over her head. “Oh my God, give us a goddamn break!”
Wild eyes spun back towards him. Her grip on the paddle slackened and the black aluminum pole tipped sideways off the edge of the kayak. A roll of the ocean snatched the oar.
“No!” she cried, bending over and thrusting her hand into the frigid seawater.
“Olivia. Let it go!”
A quick glimpse behind him revealed the Odyssey’s hull slicing through the water only fifty yards away. The higher pitch of the oncoming single engine craft arrested his attention. It was a smaller boat, capable of greater speed than the hulking old research vessel.
Jack lunged forward an
d pushed Olivia’s head down, covering her as best he could with his body. Gunfire sounded as he braced for its impact. Olivia’s screams were smothered against his chest. Dipping his mouth into her hair, he held her tightly and whispered assurances that went unheard.
After several interminable seconds of the staccato volley, Jack realized that he wasn’t dead. Groping Olivia’s body, he felt her heart pounding through her ribcage.
Still, the spatter of gun bursts persisted. A roar of a motor filled his ears and the pungent smell of exhaust choked him.
“Get in!” a voice hollered.
Startled by the close proximity of the smaller boat, Jack accepted that their ventured escape had come to an end. Searching for some last-ditch plan he raised his head, but sheltered Olivia in his arms.
The bowrider circled around them, its Bimini top down, revealing a single male pilot at the controls. In the chaos of churning surf created by this boat’s wake, Jack barely distinguished dark sunglasses and the flash of a hand with a gun over a small windshield.
“Climb in,” the man ordered as he stalled the boat into place.
“Jack?” Olivia shifted in his grasp. “What do we do?”
The Odyssey’s engines grew louder and a round of gunfire poured from its deck−only the target was not the kayak. It was the white and blue bowrider bobbing next to them. The man in the sunglasses ducked behind the windshield and managed to get off a few shots.
“Hurry!” he roared. “You want to get away from them, don’t you?”
Son of a bitch.
It was the guy who had just chased them on the PMSC pier. The guy who claimed to be working for Amanda Newton.
Split-second decisions were called that for a reason.
“Olivia, I’m going to grab that boat, and I want you to get in.”
From a tangle of blonde hair a wild blue eye flashed at him.
“Are you sure?”
Mist Page 17
