burst in on them. Ryan could only mutter a "What the hell?" over the
underwater communications system before he was yanked away from the
control station at gunpoint with Farley in tow.
Like sheep led to the slaughterhouse, the shipboard crew was herded in
groups of three and four to the rear deck of the Sea Rover. Astern of
the moon pool was a recessed cargo hold where the submersible and other
equipment was stored when not in use. Under Kim's direction, the
hold's heavy steel hatch cover was winched off with one of the Sea
Rover's cranes. The frightened captives were then forced down a
steel ladder into the dark, cavernous bay.
Tongju approached Kim on the rear deck with a bound and limping Morgan
in tow, another commando prodding the captain forward with the barrel
of his assault rifle.
"Report?" Tongju asked bluntly.
"All objectives achieved," Kim reported proudly. "One casualty in the
engine room, Ta-kong, but all ship's compartments are now secure. We've
transferred all the captives to the stern hold. Jin-chul reports that
eight units of ordnance have been located intact in the ship's
auxiliary laboratory," he added, nodding toward a wiry commando
standing next to a prefabricated structure across the deck. "The
submersible is currently deployed in recovery of additional
ordnance."
"Very well," Tongju replied with a rare smile that revealed a set of
heavily yellowed teeth. "Contact the Baekje. Tell her to tie up
alongside and prepare for transfer of the ordnance."
"You won't get far," Morgan growled, spitting out a mouthful of blood
as he spoke.
"But, Captain," Tongju replied with an evil smirk, "we already have."
A thousand feet beneath the Sea Rover, Summer was carefully placing the
tenth aerial bomb into the makeshift holding tray alongside the ninth
canister she had plucked from the bottom just moments before. She
again secured both bombs with the mechanical arms, then turned to Dirk
when she was finished.
"Ten down, two to go. You may take us home now, Jeeves."
"Yes, m'lady," he replied in a Cockney accent, then he actuated the
submersible's thrusters and backed out of the tight confines of the
hangar. As they cleared the deck of the I-411, Summer radioed up to
the Sea Rover's control room.
"Sea Rover, this is Starfish. Have secured the next batch and are
preparing to ascend with the goods, over."
The call was returned with silence. She tried calling several more
times as they started their ascent but again received no response from
the surface.
"Ryan must be asleep at the wheel," Dirk said.
"Can't blame him," Summer replied while suppressing a yawn. "It is
two-thirty in the morning."
"I just hope the guy on the crane is awake," he smirked.
As they neared the surface, they spotted the familiar glow of the moon
pool lights and maneuvered the Starfish into the center of the ring,
where they bobbed gently to the surface. Dirk and Summer paid scant
attention to the shadowy figures on the deck as the clank of the main
hoist was dropped and attached to the submersible and they began to
power down its electronic equipment. It was only when they were jerked
roughly out of the water and swung wildly to the stern deck, nearly
colliding with the port bulkhead, that they realized something was
amiss.
"Who the hell's working the crane?" Summer cursed as they were set
down harshly on the deck. "Don't they know we've got two bombs
aboard?"
"It sure ain't the Welcome Wagon," Dirk said drily as he stared out of
the bubble window.
Directly in front of them, an Asian man in a black paramilitary outfit
stood holding an automatic pistol to the stomach of Captain Morgan.
Dirk looked beyond the man's long Fu Manchu mustache and crooked yellow
teeth splayed in an evil grin and focused on the eyes. They were cold,
black eyes that portrayed a menacing air of utter indifference. They
were, Dirk knew, the eyes of an experienced killer.
Summer gasped at the sight of Morgan. A makeshift bandage was wrapped
about his left thigh but failed to cover the rivulets of dried blood
that was splattered down his leg. His cheekbone was bruised and
swollen to the size of a grapefruit, and his eye had already begun to
blacken. More dried blood ran from his mouth and onto his shirt. Yet
the crusty captain stood unflinching, his lack of fear so prominent
that Summer failed to notice he was still wearing a pair of boxer
shorts.
A pair of commandos suddenly jumped in front of the Starfish's acrylic
bubble, waving their AK-74s about wildly in a show for Dirk and Summer
to exit the submersible. The gun muzzles were quickly poked in their
faces as they climbed out of the submersible and were marched over to
Morgan and Tongju.
"Mr. Pitt," Tongju said in a low voice. "Good of you to join us.
"I don't believe I've had the pleasure of your acquaintance," Dirk
replied sarcastically.
"A humble servant of the Japanese Red Army whose name is unimportant,"
Tongju replied with feigned graciousness, bowing his head slightly.
"I didn't realize there were still any of you fruitcakes left outside
of jail."
Tongju just held his grin, not moving a facial muscle. "You and your
sister have fifteen minutes to replenish the submersible's batteries
and prepare to retrieve the final two ordnance," he said calmly.
"They are both damaged and in pieces," Dirk lied, his mind racing to
compute a plan of action.
Tongju calmly raised the Glock pistol aimed at Morgan's side and held
the muzzle to the captain's right temple. "You have fourteen minutes,
at which time I shall kill your captain. Then I will kill your sister.
And then I will kill you," he said coldly, his lips parting in a
self-satisfying grin.
Dirk could feel the blood racing through his veins as he glared at the
madman in anger. Then the delicate touch of Summer's hand on his
shoulder dispelled any thoughts of rash action.
"Come on, Dirk, we haven't much time," she said, guiding him to a
wheeled cart that had been rolled out with replacement batteries for
the submersible. Morgan looked at Dirk and nodded in concurrence.
Fighting the feeling of total helplessness, he reluctantly began
transferring the batteries to the Starfish, all the while keeping one
eye glued to the commando leader.
As they prepped the submersible for a last dive, the final remnants of
the ship's crew were marched by and forced into the rear hold at
gunpoint. Summer grimly noted the frightened look on two lab analysts
as they were prodded roughly down the hatchway.
Working quickly, Dirk and Summer replaced the submersible's power
supply in just over twelve minutes. There would be no time for the
standard post operation and pre dive system checks normally per
formed before the submersible was returned to the water. They would
have to hope the Starfish was operational for one more dive.
Tongju walked over
in a measured clip and glared up at the two
Americans, who both towered over him.
"You will promptly retrieve the remaining ordnance and return to the
vessel without any nonsense. You have ninety minutes to complete your
dive successfully or there will be severe consequences."
"If I were you, I think I'd be worrying about the consequences from our
military forces for pirating a government ship," Summer spat angrily.
"There will be no consequences," Tongju replied, smiling thinly, "for a
ship that no longer exists."
Before Summer could respond, Tongju spun on his heels and walked away,
replaced by two commandos who stepped forward with their assault rifles
drawn and aimed.
"Come on, sister," Dirk muttered. "There's no use arguing with a
psychopath."
Dirk and Summer threaded themselves back into the Starfish, then were
roughly jostled into the air by the crane operator. As they were
prepared to be let go, Dirk watched through the acrylic bubble as
Morgan was roughly manhandled to the stern hold and forcefully pitched
down into the container. A commando on a stern deck crane hoisted up
the massive steel hatch and positioned it over the rear hold before
lowering it in place. Secured over the hold, the hatch imprisoned the
entire ship's crew in darkness below.
With a violent splash, the Starfish was crudely dropped into the moon
pool a second later and released from the ship's cable.
"He means to sink the Sea Rover" Dirk said to Summer as they began
their slow descent to the bottom.
"With the entire crew locked in the hold?" she asked, shaking her head
in disbelief.
"I think so," he said somberly. "Unfortunately, there's not much we
can do in the way of calling for help."
"Our underwater communication system won't do any good, and any surface
calls we might try wouldn't have the range to reach anybody in this
region except a few Chinese fishermen."
"Or the cable ship that is evidently supporting these characters," he
added, shaking his head.
"Our intelligence heads apparently underestimated this Japanese Red
Army," Summer said. "Those guys didn't look like a rogue band of
ideological extremists with dynamite strapped to their backs."
"No, it's apparent they are well-trained military professionals.
Who-ever's running their operation is obviously skilled and well
funded." "I wonder what they intend to do with the bombs?" "An attack
in Japan would figure. But there's obviously more to this Japanese Red
Army than meets the eye, so I wouldn't want to wager on what their
intent is."
""I guess we can't worry about that for now. We've got to figure out a
way to save the crew."
"I counted eight commandos, and there was no doubt a few more on the
bridge and elsewhere on the ship. Too many to overpower with a couple
of screwdrivers," Dirk said, examining the contents of a small toolbox
mounted behind his seat.
"We'll need to quietly get some of the crewmen out of the hold to help
us. If we had enough people, maybe we could overpower them." "I don't
relish the thought of going unarmed against an AK-74, but there might
be a chance in numbers. Getting the lid off that storage hold is the
problem. I'd need a couple of uninterrupted minutes on the stern
crane, but I don't think our friends in black would be too obliging."
"There must be another way out of that hold," Summer wondered.
"No, unfortunately, there isn't. I'm sure it matches the Deep
Endeavor, where it was designed strictly as a storage hold and is
blocked off from any entry amidships by the moon pool."
"I thought Ryan had run a power cable down there once from someplace
other than the open hatch cover."
Dirk thought hard for a moment, trying to jog his memory. After a long
minute, a light finally clicked on.
"You're right. There's a small venting hatch that opens on the
bulkhead just aft of the moon pool. It's really more of an air vent,
designed to release the buildup of noxious gases if chemicals are
stored in the hold. I'm pretty sure a man could squeeze through it.
The problem for Morgan and the crew is that it's sealed and locked from
the outside."
"We've got to figure out a way to unlock it," Summer willed.
Together, they worked through several contingency plans, finally
settling on an order of attack based on their opportunities once aboard
the Sea Rover. It would take timing, skill, and a dose of daring to
pull off. But mostly it would take luck.
Dirk and Summer fell silent as their minds conjured up gruesome images
of the Sea Rover sinking with all hands, their friends, and coworkers
trapped in the airtight hold. Then the specter of the I-411 suddenly
rose up in the blackness before them and they washed the images from
their minds. With the clock ticking, they went about their business of
retrieving the final two canisters of death. Dirk maneuvered the
submersible into the hangar as before, setting the Starfish down within
easy reach of the remaining ordnance. As Summer began manipulating the
mechanical arms by sight through the acrylic bubble, Dirk observed the
video camera feed on the monitor, which recorded every moment of the
recovery. He watched while Summer gently lifted the first canister and
was placing it in the recovery basket when he suddenly powered up
Snoopy and grabbed the remote vehicle's controls. In an instant, he
nudged the ROV out of its cradle just a few inches, then spun the tiny
machine around until its nose was pressed against the submersible's
skid plates and applied full
thrusting power. The tiny ROV went nowhere, but its water jets stirred
up a thick cloud of muck and sediment in front of the Starfish. In a
flash, the water visibility went to zero amid a cloud of brown.
"What are you doing?" Summer demanded, freezing the mechanical arm
controls.
"You'll see," he said, although there was nothing to see at all. After
reaching over and fidgeting with Summer's controls for a moment, he
then powered down the ROV's thruster. It took two minutes for the
seawater to clear enough that Summer could proceed with seizing the
final canister.
"You want to try that trick again?" she asked after depositing the
bomb into the basket.
"Why not?" he replied, hitting the ROV thruster again and stirring up
another muddy cloud for the camera.
Once the water cleared and both canisters were pinned into the basket,
Dirk edged the submersible away from the submarine and they began their
slow ascent. Halfway to the surface, they traded positions, squirming
over one another so that Summer controlled the submersible movements
while Dirk manned the controls of both mechanical arms.
"Okay, take us on up," Dirk instructed. "As soon as they drop us onto
the deck, I'll need you to create a diversion." While he spoke, he
worked the left mechanical arm away from its locked position on the
weapons basket and flexed it straight out to its full extension so that
it po
ked out from the Starfish like a lance.
Summer trusted her brother's instincts implicitly, and had little time
to argue anyway. The ringed lights of the moon pool soon came into
view. Summer steered the Starfish to the center of the opening, then
they broke surface with a rush of bubbles and foaming seawater. A
metallic clank was heard as the lifting hook was attached to the
submersible and the diminutive vessel was yanked from the water. Summer
peered out at Tongju and a half-dozen other commandos as the
submersible swung through the air. Her brother, she noted, was intently watching their forward progress while gently adjusting the
mechanical arm's position. When they were crudely dropped to the deck
by the inexperienced crane operator, she saw Dirk jam the arm controls
all the way forward. The metal claw bounced forward along the deck as
they stopped, coming to a halt near the rear bulkhead. Four feet off
to the side was the small, sealed venting hatch that led to the storage
hold.
"Our boy on the crane came through," Dirk muttered. "We're in the
ballpark."
"I guess it's showtime," Summer replied with a nervous look.
Moving quickly, she stripped out of her NUMA jumpsuit, revealing a lean
body that was clad in a skimpy two-piece bathing suit covered by a
large T-shirt. Reaching under the shirt, she unhooked her bathing top
and let it fall to the floor, then grabbed the loose base of her
T-shirt and tied a knot with the material just above her navel. The
Dirk Pitt18-Black Wind Page 27
