The Inside Passage (Ted Higuera Series Book 1)

by Pendelton Wallace

“All clear, Sarge,” came the voice in his ear piece. “Camp’s empty. Deserted.”

  “Right then, let’s go in,” he said into his microphone. He and the subordinate moved from their cover into the camp.

  “They were here all right, Sarge,” a man in black said. “But they’re gone now.”

  “I’m in building one.” The leader heard a voice in his ear piece. “The report must be true. There’s boxes here. Crates for SAMs. Gun oil. Ammo boxes.”

  “Sarge, over here.” There was no longer any need for stealth. “Looks like a couple of graves.”

  “Right. Dig ‘m up. See what they buried.” The leader turned to the tents. “They haven’t been gone long.” He flipped a frying pan off of the propane stove with the barrel of his Colt C7 assault rifle. “There’s still fresh food in the cook house.”

  One pair of men emerged from a tent. “They bugged out, Sarge. Looks like they left everything.”

  “Don’t touch anything. I’ll call in the forensics team.”

  “Christ. Look at this.”

  The leader turned to his other team. “What is it?”

  “The bodies. They’ve been decapitated.”

  The group fell silent. The leader had a hard look in his eyes. “This is the place. I’ll call it in.”

  He took a radio from his belt and flipped the switch.

  “Control, this is Striker One. Over.”

  “Striker One, Control. Come in.”

  “The camp’s deserted. It’s them all right. We’ve found two bodies. There’s evidence of SAMs in the camp. We’ve got pieces of a chopper on the ground. Has anyone reported a downed bird?”

  “We’ll check that for you, One.”

  “We need a forensics team, right away. Send in the Marine platoon to secure the island.”

  “Roger that, Striker One. The chopper is in the air. ETA: 20 minutes. As soon as they’re on the ground, I want you moving. We’ll be using all assets to find the bandits and vector you to them. Control out.”

  ****

  Double Bay

  8:01 am

  The Defiant rode at her spare anchor in Double Bay.

  Ted spent a fitful night alternating anchor watches with Chris. Jack slept on the port settee in the main cabin. Ted figured that it wasn’t comfortable for him. When Ted was in his bunk, Jack’s tossing and turning, clearing his throat, getting up to use the head all night long, kept Ted awake.

  Ted had the last anchor watch. When the weak morning light peeked over the horizon, he went below and made coffee. He fried bacon and potatoes, the smell luring Chris from the forward cabin. Meagan, fully dressed for once, was right behind him.

  “How’ll we get in touch with the captain?” Chris reached for one of his insulated mugs.

  “We’ll have to try channel sixteen.” Jack pulled on his trousers. “I assume that cruise ships monitor it like everyone else.”

  “What if we can’t make contact with the ship?” Ted slathered salsa from a Tupperware container onto his eggs.

  Jack only sipped coffee. Apparently, Ted thought, he has no interest in food this morning.

  “We’ll have to get their attention, Laddie. Cut in front of them as closely as possible. Wave, try to see an officer on deck.”

  While Ted cleaned up the galley and Chris made his morning inspection in preparation for getting under way, Jack disassembled his assault rifle. Ted glared at him. Man, that thing is bad news.

  “Do you really think we’re going to need that?” Meagan asked.

  “I dearly hope not, Lass.” Jack replied.

  Oscar leapt from the pilot berth to the table and, to Ted’s amusement, attacked the cotton patches Jack used to clean his weapon. “You go, little man.” Oscar was apparently on Ted’s side.

  “Come ‘ere y’ little rascal.” Jack grabbed the Burmese and retrieved his cleaning patches. “One thing old Jack has learned is to always be prepared. I would rather have Winnie and not need her than need her and not have her.”

  With deft movements, Jack re-assembled the weapon. He slid the long clip into the side of the gun with a loud click. He took three other clips from his canvas bag and set them on the table.

  “Here, son, y’ may need this.” He handed an ugly black automatic pistol to Chris. “Do y’ ken how to use it?”

  Ted watched Chris take hold of the pistol between his fingers like it was contaminated. “I’ve never touched a pistol before in my life.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake.” Meagan got up from the table. “Give it to me.”

  She grabbed the gun. Ted couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Meagan checked to see that the safety was on, dropped out the clip and slid back the slide to check that there was no round in the chamber.

  “Don’t they teach you city boys anything?”

  Ted and Chris stared at each other opened mouthed.

  “What? . . . There was a home intrusion rape-murder down the street from us. My dad was away from home all the time so he wanted Mom and me to take self-defense classes. We learned some Judo and how to handle hand guns.”

  Sliding the clip back into the handle of the repulsive weapon, she double-checked that the safety was on and slipped it into the waist band of her jeans.

  “Jack.” Ted couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Are you sure that we really need those guns?”

  “Let’s get the anchor up, children. We wanna be in the Straits in time to intercept the Star.”

  Chapter 58

  Johnstone Strait, Canada – On board the Defiant

  9:10 am

  Ted’s heart pounded like a jack-hammer in his chest. He sat on the cabin roof with Jack while Chris was at the helm with Meagan at his side. A finger of ice ran down Ted’s spine.

  A morning mist hung over the water, deadening sound. It feels like we’re the only people in the world. Ted expected to see a full rigged ship flying the skull and cross bones materialize at any moment.

  Chris piloted the Defiant back and forth across the narrow mouth of the Strait under power, anticipating the rendezvous with the cruise ship.

  How could anything bad happen in such a peaceful place? Ted’s world was a canvas of green and gray. To starboard, glacier-clad peaks floated above the layer of fog clinging to the wooded slopes of Vancouver Island. Little more than a mile across the green water to port, the top of tree clad West Cracroft Island poked through the clouds.

  Behind him, Hanson Island protected the Johnstone Strait from the Queen Charlotte Strait and the Pacific Ocean beyond. The channel between Vancouver and Hanson Islands was only a couple of hundred yards wide. That’s where they’ll attack. It takes an ocean liner about a mile to turn around. There was no room here for the Star to turn and run.

  Ted’s mouth full of cotton, he reached for his water bottle.

  He looked back at his friend. Chris’s fingers drummed nervously on the stainless steel wheel.

  “What time are they supposed to be here?” Ted asked.

  “I dinna rightly know,” Jack answered. “They’re due up from Campbell River this mornin’. I expect they’ll be here any time.”

  A loud hoot echoed off of the glacier clad peaks. The hair on Ted’s arms stood out straight, his toes tingled. “Jesu Cristo!” He jumped up and gawked. A snowy white owl circled in the sky above. It was the biggest bird he had ever seen. Madre de Dios! It has to have a fifteen foot wing span. What was an owl doing out in the daylight? It seemed to be calling down a warning. Then he remembered.

  “I know that bird, dude.”

  “What’re you talking about?” Chris looked up at the giant bird.

  “It’s Teyolia.” The owl was gone. “My grandma told me about him. He’s Death’s messenger.”

  “Oh my God.” Meagan gasped. “The fortune teller.”

  “The what?” Chris had a confused look on his face.

  “The fortune teller. In the Pike Place Market. The one with the cat in the top hat who wouldn’t tell me my fortune. He must have seen this coming. . . Ch
ris, something bad’s going to happen.”

  Ted’s mind reeled at the omens. Someone’s gonna die today. Ted’s insides twitched and shook. He forced his mind to focus on the problem of the day. “The mist’s lifting a little.” As the fog peeled back like a veil, islands materialized out of the glistening sea.

  “Shit, there it is.” Meagan jumped up from her seat in the cockpit and pointed. A cruise ship burst through the curtain of fog.

  Ted put the binoculars to his eyes.

  “I think that’s it. . .” He lowered the field glasses. An icy acceptance swept over him.

  Chris looked like he was going to hurl.

  “Blue hull with a gold stripe across its front end,” Ted continued.

  Chris spun the slippery wheel with his moist hands. “We’ve got to find a way to turn ‘em around before they get into the pass.”

  The Star of the Northwest steamed up the Straits right at them. The picture froze in Ted’s brain. The Star’s navy blue hull, topped by glistening white topsides, sparkled in the early morning light. A thin trail of smoke crept from her swept-back funnel. Despite the serenity of the scene, the two vessels closed at a rapid pace.

  There weren’t many people on deck yet. It was too early in the morning for the passengers to be up and about.

  “Cut in front of her, son,” Jack said. “I’ll go below and get on the radio.”

  Jack pulled himself to his feet and, holding onto the hand rail, made his way back to the cockpit. Meagan started to give him a hand, then thought better of it and sat back down. Jack lowered himself down the companionway ladder pausing on each step to catch his breath. Ted and Meagan followed Jack down to the cabin.

  Jack seated himself in the navigation station. Oscar immediately jumped onto the desk and rubbed against Jack’s face.

  “Get away from the radio, y’ little rascal.”

  “Come here, Oscar.” Meagan picked up her Burmese.

  “Star of the Northwest, Star of the Northwest, Star of the Northwest, this is the Defiant, over.” Jack’s voice was answered by silence.

  “Star of the Northwest, Star of the Northwest, Star of the Northwest, this is the Defiant, over.” Still no response.

  “What’s the matter with that lot?” Jack asked no one in particular. “Are they stumblin’ around the Pacific deaf, dumb and blind?”

  “Hang on guys,” Chris yelled down from the cockpit. “We’re cutting right in front of them.”

  Ted popped his head out of the companionway hatch. They were so close he couldn’t see the Star’s deck. He could make out the welds in the ship’s hull. The bow wave thrown by the liner was enormous.

  AAAOOOHHH! OOOH OOOH OOOH OOOH

  The Star’s horn blasted out angrily as the Defiant cut in front of their bow. The Defiant was pushed aside like a bath tub toy by the wall of water.

  “MEOOOW,” Oscar cried at the violent motion.

  “Now we should have their attention.” Jack’s merry voice sounded reassuring. “Star of the Northwest, Star of the Northwest, Star of the Northwest, this is the Defiant, over.”

  Still, the radio was silent.

  “D’ y’ have any flares on this boat?” Jack asked.

  “Yeah, there’s a flare gun under the nav table.”

  “Jack!” Chris shouted down from the cockpit. “We’ve got trouble.”

  ****

  Johnstone Straits, Canada – On board the Star of the Northwest

  9:12 am

  Harry leaned on the cruise ship’s rail, coffee cup in hand. He loved watching the untamed wilderness, looking for wild life. Yesterday they saw a magnificent stag wandering down to the water’s edge. Eagles, seals, porpoise, brown bears and the occasional whale all reminded him that there was still a natural world out here, beyond the touch of man.

  There was something almost religious about watching the day begin.

  “Penny for your thoughts.” Candace slid up behind Harry, put her arms around his waist and nuzzled into his back.

  “I was just thinking about how lucky I am.”

  “Lucky?”

  “My life was over. It ended when Sally died. My family died with her. The kids drifted away. I didn’t care about work. For four years, I was the walking dead. Then you came along. I feel like a kid again. I’d forgotten what it felt like to be alive, to be in love.”

  “Right answer, mister.” Candace turned Harry in her arms. “You better be thinking about me.”

  “Everything’s turned around.” He bent down to kiss her.

  Candace pulled him even closer.

  “I have a reason to get up in the morning. Sarah’s coming back to me. I don’t know what you did with her, but she’s beginning to act like herself again.”

  “She’s a good kid. She was just lost. Losing their mother sent both kids into a long spiral.”

  “I just hope that Chris’ll come around.” Harry broke their embrace and leaned on the rail again, looking out to sea. “He’s been so morose, so angry since Sally died. I’m hoping this summer, the chance to be on his own, making adult decisions, will help.”

  “It’s the best thing that could happen to him, Harry.” Candace hooked her arm through Harry’s and rested her head on his shoulder. “He’ll come back in the fall a changed man.”

  “Your parents seem to be having a good time.”

  “They’ve never done anything like this before. They certainly can’t afford to go cruising on teacher’s salaries.”

  The wedding had been simple, yet elegant, like everything that Candace did. It took Harry’s breath away when Candace walked down the aisle on her father’s arm in her gorgeous white gown. The captain performed the ceremony in the chapel.

  In addition to the few invited guests, Harry agreed to open the ceremony to any passengers who wished to attend. There was a Who’s Who of celebrities in the audience. Two U.S. Representatives, The Secretary of State for Washington State, executives from Boeing, Microsoft, Millennium Systems, Starbucks, Amazon, PACCAR and a dozen other important firms were there, all potential clients in Harry’s eyes. Celebrities from Hollywood’s A-list went through the reception line and wished them well. He had no use for Hollywood types, they would never be clients.

  He couldn’t have put it into words, but Harry took enormous pride in wedding such a gorgeous creature in front of all those high-powered types. Yes, she completed him, yes she was his best friend and confidant, but she also was a symbol of his power. Having Candace at this side made Harry the envy of every man on the damn boat.

  After the ceremony, they danced into the early morning hours. Even though it was their wedding, the gala ball wasn’t for them. Harry knew it was for the ship. The Star of the Northwest’s maiden voyage was big news. TV camera crews were aboard, televising events, interviewing celebrities. Harry grinned when he thought of Candace’s picture, looking stunning in her wedding gown, on the cover of the Times’ Sunday magazine.

  “I’m surprised you’re up so early,” Candace said. “We were up late last night.”

  “I’ve always been an early riser.”

  Harry put his arm around his new wife’s waist and pulled her close.

  “Can you imagine what this area looked like before the Europeans arrived?” he said. “I’m always amazed at the vastness, the wildness of it all. When I start to think that the world is getting over populated, I like to come to some place like this. There’s room here for millions of people. You can go for days and not see another human being.”

  “Sorry to interrupt your fantasy, but there’s a boat now, right there.”

  “Where?”

  “Just coming around that island.” Candace pointed to their right. “See, it looks like a fishing boat.”

  The morning mist lifted to reveal the sides of the narrow passage. The Star of the Northwest threaded the channel between Vancouver Island and West Cracroft Island. Coming out of Blackney Pass, a couple of miles to their right, was a big green fishing boat.

  AAAOOOHHH! The S
tar’s whistle blew an angry blast.

  “Harry!” Candace pointed forward. “Isn’t that your boat?”

  Crossing in front of the cruise ship’s bow, Harry could make out Chris looking up from the Defiant’s wheel. “What the hell are you doing Chris?”

  Without thinking, Harry pulled out his cell phone.

  Damn, no signal.

  Chapter 59

  Johnstone Straits, Canada – On board the Defiant

  9:16 am

  Jack, Meagan and Ted charged back up the companionway stairs to the cockpit.

  “Look over there,” Chris pointed to the east. “Just coming around Hanson Island. It’s that fishing boat.”

  “Head for them, son. We’ve got to intercept them.”

  Without hesitating Chris spun the wheel. The Defiant twirled on her keel and headed towards the fishing boat. Chris pushed the throttle all the way forward.

  From out of nowhere, Bon Jovi’s Blaze of Glory popped into Ted’s mind.

  “What are we going to do?” Meagan slid into the seat next to Chris.

  Bon Jovi’s lyrics flowed through Ted’s head. Shot down, in a blaze of glory.

  “There’s only one thing we can do,” Chris answered. “Get your life jackets on.”

  The passage was narrow. There was less than two miles separating the Defiant from the fishing boat.

  “I see some guys moving around.” Ted raised the binoculars to his eyes. Three men huddled around the big steel box on the back of the boat. “I’m not sure what they’re doing. Uh oh. They’ve spotted us.”

  Chris raised his hand to shield his eyes so he could see the distant boat.

  “Dude.” A wave of acceptance swept over Ted. “They’ve got guns.”

  Two of the men on the boat made their way to the bow.

  “They’ve got the missile in that box.” Ted held the binoculars to his eyes. “It’s some sort of rocket launcher.”

  Ted did the math in his mind. Two miles distant. They’re probably doing twelve knots, we’re doing seven. We’re closing at about twenty miles an hour. That’s three minutes to cover a mile. We’ll be up to them in six minutes.