by Peter Tonkin
‘No can do,’ said Richard, rising slowly and giving the readouts one last scan. ‘I need both of you exactly where you are. I’ll be back when it’s time to cut her loose. Until then, you’re in full charge of the Neptune, Captain Wan!’
Richard’s next port of call was the afterdeck where he checked that the Changhe was being refuelled and that Fatfist was doing a good enough job of keeping Neptune safely in place three metres below Poseidon’s screws, thirty more behind her square stern. He rested his hand on the thrumming tow rope and looked narrow-eyed into the water it was cutting like a cheese wire. Then he returned to the bridge and joined Nic and Chang watching narrow-eyed as the red dots on Straightline’s display converged, and the vessels they represented began to come together.
Both Flint and Katapult were on the radio now that range was short and line-of-sight signals easily received; Liberty and Robin offered running commentaries on progress as they made their final tacks and began their closing runs in across the suddenly sporadic northerly from the north-east and the south-west, both fiercely fixated still on being the first to recover the bottle, neither of them welcoming the distraction of incoming contact. Richard and Nic talked to them when permitted, but their advice like their eyes focused on the looming bulk of Dagupan Maru. The nearer it came, the more threatening it seemed. Richard had taken for granted that the massive freighter could run over Katapult or Flint with ease, but now he was beginning to wonder whether those brutal bows could smash even Poseidon to kindling.
As he wondered, so Nature began to take a hand in the already tense situation. The clouds thinned and the sky began to clear with unsettling rapidity while the wind, already fitful, became sporadic, falling through three on the Beaufort scale disturbingly quickly. Then two. Amid howls of frustration from both Liberty and Robin, an almost dead calm descended. Air stilled. Clouds vanished. The sun came out hot and heavy.
The yachts were slowed to a dead stop, their sails drooping emptily, flapping fitfully as the wind deserted both of them. But, while they lost their forward motion and settled to a standstill like two more bits of flotsam in the huge Sargasso of plastic, the powered vessels continued to surge ahead. Dagupan Maru and Poseidon began to close together on the central dot that gave the position of Tanaka’s Cheerio bottle.
Robin broke first, but only by moments – probably because she had Dagupan Maru closing relentlessly from the north and Poseidon powering in from the west while the wind had utterly abandoned her. ‘Katapult’s in motion,’ observed Straightline suddenly and Richard crossed to the console. ‘She’s started her motor,’ he deduced. ‘And there goes Flint.’
‘You can hardly blame them,’ said Nic defensively. ‘They’ve come so far and now . . .’ His voice trailed off and he looked out of the clearview at the burnished blue sky, the white disc of the sun, the utter calm of the littered water – stirred now only by the long deep-ocean rollers and the relentless approach of the two motor vessels. Beginning to steam a little in the humid heat. ‘I’d fire up the on-board motor and cruise for the last couple of miles.’
‘Me too,’ admitted Richard. ‘What’s the old saying? “If at first you don’t succeed, cheat!” That’s one of my favourites. Captain Chang, can you swing Poseidon to the south? It looks as though there’s clearer water there; we can maybe push our speed up a notch or two. Then we’ve maybe got enough sea room to swing round on to a northerly bearing. I’d rather be head to head with Sittart than have him coming at my beam like a Roman galley at ramming speed.’
‘Shi,’ nodded Chang. ‘It is so.’ Poseidon swept south, accelerating into an area of clear water and racing up towards her at full speed then swung on to a northerly bearing, so that the disposition of the five dots on Straightline’s schematic looked roughly cruciform. Dagupan Maru and Poseidon were facing each other and closing on a north-south heading. The two yachts were coming in north and south of the east-west axis, depending on the last tack they had taken before the wind deserted them. And the red dot of Reona Tanaka’s bottle sat squarely in the middle.
‘Nic,’ said Richard, ‘come with me. It’s time we got an overview of this situation. Bring the binoculars.’
Side by side they hurried along the length of the adapted frigate until they were standing on the afterdeck between the helicopter and the line holding Neptune in place. ‘You go up and I go down,’ said Richard. ‘One way or another we need to know every move they make from here on in. Whether they know it or not – whether they like it or not – the girls are depending on us now.’
Nic nodded decisively and climbed aboard the Changhe holding the binoculars in one white-knuckled hand. He pulled on the headset and settled the stalk of the mic. ‘Ready,’ he said and his voice echoed through the loud-hailing system, then he cinched his seat belt tight and raised his empty fist.
As Nic went up in the chopper with the binoculars to take the high ground, Richard went below. He first checked on Ironwrist in the control room, then he returned to the bridge where he could watch what was going on. No sooner had he arrived than Straightline said, ‘Dagupan Maru’s slowing . . .’
Richard could see that the telltale white line of the freighter’s bow wave was thinning. ‘He’s up to something,’ he said.
And Nic’s voice came through on the radio. ‘He’s dropping lifeboats. I count three. All packed with men and they all look armed to the teeth!’
‘That’s one for Katapult, one for Flint and one to recover the bottle,’ snapped Richard. ‘Warn the women, Nic.’ He clapped his hands and rubbed the palms together. ‘Let’s get busy,’ he muttered, speaking almost exclusively to himself. ‘I’m off below,’ he said more loudly to Straightline. ‘I’ll want pretty precise bearings that will get me to the lifeboat that’s after Flint first,’ he ordered brusquely. ‘Then we’ll take it from there.’
A couple of moments later he settled in beside Ironwrist. ‘I think I’d better do this bit,’ he said. ‘It could get nasty and it could get legal later.’
‘OK,’ said Ironwrist, as though he knew exactly what the mad gwailo giant was talking about. But to be fair, he had been one of the first to call him the Goodluck Giant – and he had never had any cause to change the nickname.
Neptune was three metres below the littered surface of the battleground, powering forward at her full ten knots. With Straightline calling course and bearings from a combination of GPS readings, red-dot sightings and simple observation, the remote submersible headed unerringly towards the becalmed and helpless Flint. Nic supplemented Straightline’s directions because, from the high ground of the chopper, he could see what those on the water could not – and he got occasional glimpses of the daffodil-yellow vessel as she raced though the water ten feet beneath the thick-piled garbage. Richard was surprised by how quickly the GPS showed his remote vehicle was close to Liberty’s command. Then, again taking his directions from Straightline and Nic, he headed towards the nearest lifeboat. As he pushed Neptune towards her limit he caught himself wondering whether he should get Nic to call some kind of warning on the chopper’s loud hailer. But then the distraught father made up his mind for him. ‘Richard! They’ve opened fire! Shit, Richard, they’re shooting! At both Liberty and me! The bastards didn’t even give a warning . . .’
‘You OK?’ asked Richard, his focus exclusively on what Neptune could see.
‘Yeah. And the girls seem OK too. But Jesus . . .’
‘Hardball it is, then,’ said Richard. ‘Tell them to forget the bottle, Nic. Head for Poseidon now! No argument. No excuses! And tell Katapult the same.’
Even as Nic’s orders to Flint came through on Richard’s headset, the picture on Neptune’s screen showed the keel of the lifeboat coming into view, punching through a solid ceiling of rubbish that looked thick enough to conceal the submersible from above. Richard angled the vessel down a little, then swung her round until she was following just behind the lifeboat’s propeller. Holding his breath with the tension he unfolded one of Neptune’s mechan
ical arms and pulled out one of the magnetic explosive charges she used for deep-water demolition work. It took less than a moment to attach it to the metal blade of the lifeboat’s rudder. Then he said to Ironwrist, ‘Dive, dive, dive!’ and hit the remote detonator button.
The explosion was supposed to disable the vessel but instead it blew the entire stern off the lifeboat and sent the warlike crewmen straight into the water. ‘My God! That was more than I expected!’ said Richard. ‘Still, with any luck it should distract their mates for as long as it takes to pick them up . . .’
‘I don’t think so,’ came Nic’s distant voice. ‘Neither of the other boats has turned off course. Liberty! For heaven’s sake do what I say. Head straight for Poseidon! Now!’
‘A friend in need is a friend indeed,’ observed Richard cynically. ‘Is Katapult coming in?’
‘No,’ said Nic. ‘She’s still going for the bloody bottle.’
‘Yes,’ confirmed Captain Chang. ‘Captain Mariner says if you watch her back for five more minutes . . .’
‘It won’t be as easy this time. They’ll know I’m out here somewhere . . . I’ll bet they’re keeping careful watch now. Anything else I should know?’
‘Wind’s picking up again,’ Straightline said. ‘It’s from the south this time.’
‘That’ll slow Katapult big time,’ said Richard grimly. ‘Especially if it picks up. She must be heading directly into it. She can’t start sailing and tacking across it again. She’ll just have to go full throttle, hell for leather, and hope . . .’
‘The other lifeboats are closing up with her though,’ warned Nic. ‘With those three hulls of hers she’s got three times more exposure to the rubbish than the lifeboats have. I’d say at least one lifeboat’s going to catch her before she gets to the bottle, let alone before she gets to Poseidon.’
‘Bloody woman!’ swore Richard. ‘Straightline! Get me to the nearest lifeboat and I’ll try kicking ass again . . .’
‘You’d better hurry,’ warned Nic. ‘They’ve opened fire again . . .’
‘Christ!’ blasphemed Richard. ‘How’s Flint?’
‘Coming in pretty quickly now, thank God. She’ll be alongside Poseidon in five minutes,’ Nic called.
‘Right. So, where’s the nearest lifeboat to Katapult?’
‘Dead ahead, Captain Mariner,’ answered Straightline. ‘If you keep going on that course . . .’
Richard could see the turbulence generated by the lifeboat’s propeller in the distance. He pushed Neptune to maximum revs and was pulling up towards it in a matter of minutes. He checked all around him on the remote vehicle’s sensors. The ceiling above him was still thick with plastic debris and even though the lifeboat was making enough way to create a considerable wake, he calculated that, as with the first, he would be able to sneak up behind it and blow the stern off. ‘Update me, Straightline,’ he ordered as he came closer.
‘Flint is almost alongside Poseidon,’ Straightline answered. ‘Katapult is still after the bottle and the two lifeboats are closing with her.’
‘I have one in my sights,’ said Richard. ‘Closing now.’ He brought Neptune up under the stern of the second lifeboat and placed the second mine. Mildly surprised at getting away with the same trick twice, he detonated the charge. A moment later, the second lifeboat was sinking like the first and all of its crew were in the water. Then, emboldened by the success of his strategy so far, he went after the third boat. The one still relentlessly closing in on Katapult.
Using Straightline’s directions, he swept beneath Katapult’s triple hull and closed with the last lifeboat, swinging under her stern. But this time, as he reached out with his last charge, Neptune’s articulated arm was roughly caught by a brutal hook. The whole vessel was jerked up to the surface and Richard found himself looking at a face familiar from the mugshots Jim Bourne had sent of Dagupan Maru’s officers. This one was called Sakai Inazo. He was first officer. Even as Richard recognized him, Sakai started shooting at Neptune, point-blank. Richard lurched back in his seat as though the bullets could hurt him. And then he leaped to his feet with shock. The screen before him exploded into dazzling brightness and for an instant he thought the shots must have smashed Neptune’s video. Then he saw the figures from her onboard temperature gauges and realized the truth, even before he recognized that Sakai’s burly figure was wreathed in red and yellow flames. He was halfway out of the door when the alarms started and Chang’s voice bellowed, ‘Captain Mariner to the bridge! Captain Mariner to the bridge!’
On A deck he met Nic and Liberty, also rushing upwards. The gaping bulkhead door behind them showed Flint etched against a wall of fire. ‘Everyone off Flint?’ he gasped.
Liberty nodded, her eyes huge. ‘Just . . .’
‘Then it’s Katapult next . . .’ he grated. And realized they couldn’t hear him; he could hardly hear himself because of the simply appalling noise coming in from outside.
The three of them burst on to the bridge, adding some disorder to the ordered pandemonium there. Captain Chang was rapping out orders at the top of her voice and everyone there was bustling to their emergency stations as Poseidon, partway through her fastest and tightest emergency turn, tore away southwards. And away from Flint. The abrupt manoeuvre had simply snapped Flint’s mooring line. Poseidon was racing on to a southerly heading at the kind of speed the captain had refused to countenance less than half an hour ago.
The entire ocean to the north of them seemed to be on fire. From east to west, almost as far as the eye could see, the surface of the water was a sheet of flame. And only the southerly wind was keeping Poseidon safe. For it was blowing the wildfire up towards Dagupan Maru in a wall that reached more than fifty feet high in places and was already pouring thick black fumes hundreds of feet further up into the wide blue sky.
But Richard wasn’t worried about the Japanese freighter. He had much more immediate concerns. For there, just ahead of the wall of flame, just behind Poseidon’s racing stern, came Katapult. Sails in, poles bare, pushing forward into the southerly gale as fast as her onboard motor could move her. Richard hesitated for a nanosecond, his mind racing. ‘Cut speed,’ he called to Chang. ‘Give her a chance to catch up . . .’
‘Why risk my command?’ snapped Chang ruthlessly. ‘It is lost cause.’
‘I think I can get a line to her,’ answered Richard desperately. ‘We can tow her out.’
Chang hesitated. Her face twisted with disbelief. Then they both were distracted by a cry from Liberty. Pushed by the strengthening southerly, Flint was drifting into the fire wall, and even as they watched, the flames seemed to leap out and claim her. The sturdy composite hull seemed to wilt. The tall mast toppled and she exploded into a ball of flame.
‘Very well,’ snapped Chang. ‘I give you five minutes. Take headset. Stay in contact for my orders. Remember, Captain. You are owner. I am commander!’
Richard and Nic ran side by side on to the poop deck, past the Changhe with its floats still attached and down to the ship’s square stern. Even as they were racing aft through her bridge house, they had felt the way come off her as the motors powered down. And now, they saw all too clearly the risk that Captain Chang had agreed to run for them. The heat was astonishing. The noise disorientating. The wall of fire simply petrifying. And there, between the high stern of the adapted corvette and the terrifying flames, came Katapult, doggedly, refusing to give up. Her decks steaming, her tall mast seeming to writhe and waver as the heat fought the brutal headwind and sought to claim her at last. And there, like some kind of figurehead at her forepeak stood the flame-haired figure of Florence Weary. ‘Captain Mariner!’ barked a peremptory voice in Richard’s ear. ‘You running out of time!’
And he wasn’t the only one.
Suddenly the radio operator came on to the captain’s waveband and into Richard’s headset. ‘Captain! I have a helicopter asking permission to land. It’s from Dagupan Maru. There’s a man and two women aboard as well as the pilot.’
‘No! We are wasting enough time already. I would have to throw our own chopper overboard to give him room. Tell him he cannot come aboard.’
And that was that, thought Richard as he grabbed the handles of the gun Fatfist had used to fire the magnetic bolt at Neptune and took aim. Sod off, Sittart. Then he dismissed all thoughts of the professor and focused on the job in hand. Dismissed also all thoughts of Robin and her crew – thoughts that would simply incapacitate him if he indulged in them now.
He knew there was nothing metallic aboard Katapult for the magnetic bolt to fasten on to. But Flo was no fool. If she saw a line coming aboard she would certainly secure it to something. The wind pounded him distractingly on the back like a drunk in a bar. Somewhere deep in his subconscious he calculated that the breeze blowing up from the south must be strengthening pretty rapidly as the updraft of the colossal fire sucked yet more air in to feed the furnace at its heart. Would that work to Katapult’s advantage? Or add to the likelihood of her destruction? Robin’s life hung in that terrible balance . . .
‘Captain Mariner . . .’ came Chang’s voice. ‘Time’s up!’
And he fired.
The bolt flew straight and true, the line arching behind it, streaking off the spool beside the gun. It slammed into Katapult’s central deck and Flo dived desperately after it. Richard felt Poseidon’s deck shiver as the engines raced up towards full power once again. Flo was on her knees, securing the line to the starboard cleat and Richard let the line continue to run as the corvette gathered way. Playing the beautiful multihull like Ironwrist playing a fish. As soon as Flo rolled clear, he eased the brake on to the line, watching it come taut and quiver with the strain. The three forepeaks behind him rose and three white bow waves added their complications to Poseidon’s racing wake.
