Masters of the Broken Watches

by Razi Imam

Pham Kai explained the incredible danger of attempting to reach that location. But he agreed to try to get the boat as close as possible the next night.

  Pham Kai started pulling up the anchor when Vu requested that they try one last time for the fish before leaving. Pham Kai looked around—it was still pitch dark, now around 5:00 a.m. Dawn would start to break in an hour. Pham Kai shook his head no and kept pulling up the anchor.

  “Pham Kai please, you don’t understand, it’s very important that we make this catch,” Vu pleaded.

  Pham Kai paused, sensing Vu’s deep commitment—a familiar feeling to him. Against his better judgment, he agreed to keep going. Letting go of the anchor, he picked up the net and cast one more time. He swung the net out and let it sink a bit longer than usual before pulling it in. Vu helped him haul it, and they sorted through the catch. Once again, disappointment set in for both of them. They emptied the tin tub into the sea as Minh hoisted the anchor.

  Pham Kai started the engine and made their way out of the channel. Vu went back and sat on the bench at the table, looking back at Bombay Reef, like a child walking away from a playground.

  Pham Kai felt they had delayed a bit too long getting out of the channel. He still needed to head closer to Vietnam for a good two hours before he would feel safe. He had been maintaining a steady speed of thirty-five knots when he saw a small light about two miles ahead. The sun was starting to rise, and he could make out the horizon line, which was at about three miles—so this had to be a boat speeding in their direction. He didn’t like the intensity of the light or its movement. It behaved like a spotlight. As he tried to figure out his next move, Minh walked into the cabin and pointed to the starboard side. There, at approximately the same distance, was another light coming closer. Pham Kai looked to the port side, thinking he could move in that direction, but a third boat with the same kind of light-headed coming closer. His heart skipped a beat. This was the situation he had wanted to avoid. The three boats were surrounding them. He slowed down, starting a full turn back toward the channel. He figured if there was any chance of escape, he needed to go deeper into the channel to the lagoon and hope the patrol boats wouldn’t follow him.

  Realizing the sudden change in speed and direction Vu asked Pham Kai what had happened. Pham Kai pointed to his right. Vu turned and saw the approaching light. “Relax, Pham Kai, I have proper papers,” he said, tapping his pocket.

  ***

  YOULING CHUAN, THE Phantom Boat—this had become the call sign of the Chinese patrol boat that had allowed Pham Kai to escape. When Wang Li had gone back with a broken nose and stories of how an old, feeble Vietnamese fisherman had gotten the best of him, his commanding officer had given him this call sign to punish him. There was no tolerance for such failure in the Chinese Navy.

  The fact that he hadn’t sunk the fisherman’s boat, instead escaping the area to avoid being stranded by the changing currents of the reef, was further insulting to his superiors. His officer had told him that he should be glad he wasn’t stripped of his titles and dishonorably discharged. Other patrol boat captains had informed the commanding officer there wasn’t any sign of the fisherman or his boat—so they had to conclude he had survived. Even worse for Wang Li, the two su vang fish he had confiscated hadn’t brought him any recognition—they’d become property of the People’s Republic of China.

  From that day, Wang Li had become obsessed with one and only one mission—finding the fisherman who had taken his dignity. He couldn’t care less if it sparked an international incident between China and Vietnam. He’d punish him with such cruelty that the fisherman will become an example of Chinese wrath.

  Today’s patrol was no different than any other—they would get to the south side of Bombay Reef, head out five miles into the open sea, and then turn around and approach the reef from the north side. The navy had added two more boats that would patrol from the east and west. They knew that the news of two su vang fish being caught at Bombay Reef would cause an influx of Vietnamese fishermen willing to tempt fate. The addition of the two patrol boats to the area further angered Wang Li.

  They had been patrolling the area for several weeks, confused that not a single fisherman had been seen. In fact, no activity of any kind had occurred. The three patrol boats would get to Bombay Reef at 5:00 a.m. and disperse to their assigned routes. They all hated the reef—it was a dismal island, always misty and mysterious.

  Dawn started to break up the pitch darkness of the sea. As Wang Li settled in his captain’s chair for their routine patrol, the boat’s VHF radio crackled. It was one of the other captains—they’d spotted a vessel. He peered through his binoculars, searching for confirmation. He ordered the commander to speed up and head for the reef.

  Through his binoculars, he recognized the shape and size of the boat with the orange and yellow accent stripes running along its length. He couldn’t believe his luck—it could be the fisherman! His heart started to race, but he didn’t want to get too excited. Then the fishing boat made a move that reminded Wang Li of how Pham Kai had tried to escape the last time.

  The three patrol boats converged at the mouth of the channel simultaneously, only to see Pham Kai navigate deeper despite the crashing waves and ever-present mist. The captains of the other boats weren’t at all familiar with the channel—they knew they had to have precise nautical maps to navigate it. They kept their engines idle, waiting for orders.

  Wang Li commanded them to follow him in, flanking in a tight V formation. The channel turned and twisted as the waves churned, and there were rocky protrusions everywhere. After an hour of careful navigation, they closed within a half-mile of Pham Kai’s boat, deep within the channel.

  ***

  PHAM KAI KNEW he only had a few minutes before the three boats came bearing down on them. He ordered Minh to retrieve his grandfather’s notes from the trunk. She removed the rubber band, unwrapped the plastic, and started laying out the old, tattered papers on the boat’s helm. Vu watched, amazed that Pham Kai’s family had kept such valuable information to themselves.

  While navigating with one hand, Pham Kai started flipping through the papers. He was looking for one that had a small drawing and a brief note on another opening in the channel. The channel was part of an ancient caldera forming a large letter C. In theory, one could enter the reef from the north side, navigate to the center, and then continue on and come out almost a mile south through the southern opening. His grandfather had written in big letters never to take the southern opening, as it was narrow with sharp rock walls. Pham Kai had always known about it, but given the warnings by his grandfather, he’d never attempted to navigate through it.

  Vu, baffled by Pham Kai’s desire to avoid the patrol boats, glanced at the notes. “Are you planning to navigate south?” he asked. Pham Kai nodded. “Pham Kai, I must insist on a safer course of action,” Vu said, pulling the folded papers from his breast pocket. “This expedition is approved by the Chinese government. There’s no need for us to avoid the Chinese, we have every right to be here. Stop the boat, and I’ll talk to the captains. I promise you, we’ll be fine.”

  One hand still on the boat’s wheel, Pham Kai scanned the waters of the southern opening. His eyes darted to the warnings scribbled in his grandfather’s handwriting, then over to Minh. He searched Minh’s worried eyes a final time, and then idled the boat’s engine.

  Vu thanked him and stepped to the stern, waiting for the boats to catch up. Soon, full daylight was upon them, and Pham Kai could make out the southern opening about a hundred yards away. He could see why his grandfather had written such explicit warnings. Unlike the northern opening, with choppy waters, and shifting currents, the southern opening was calm. He had to step out of the cabin and walk to the bow to see any signs of danger—a series of jagged rock tips made a long, narrow corridor just beneath the waves. Since the current was so calm, there was no splashing of water on rocks to indicate they were even there. The rock walls of the corridor were twelve feet apart, even n
arrower in some places—far too close to gauge from the position of the helm. He began to feel that stopping had been the right decision, whatever the consequences.

  Wang Li understood why they had stopped. According to his computerized nautical maps, the fishing boat couldn’t go any farther. The channel stopped here—there was shallow reef in front, and the only way to get out was to turn around and head back the way they had come. There was a man standing on the stern of the fishing boat, waving at them. He saw two other people in the cabin, but he still wasn’t sure if it was the same fishing boat. Whatever the case, the waving of this portly, well-dressed man confused and irritated him.

  As his boat made the final approach, Wang Li came out of the cabin and stood on the bow, resting a hand on his gun. He ordered the engines cut and let the momentum take them closer. He shouted in Chinese, “You’re trespassing in the sovereign waters of the People’s Republic of China! Step aside and prepare to be boarded!”

  To Wang Li’s surprise, the stupid Vietnamese man continued to smile with a sense of surety as he bowed and stepped to the side. Wang Li and his two lieutenants jumped onto the boat. The man continued bowing, his head down in respect, both hands extended in front of him holding official-looking papers. Wang Li walked up, and still speaking in Chinese, asked him who he was and what this was all about.

  Even more surprising, the man replied in fluent English. “I’m professor Doctor Vu Ha of the Vietnam Maritime University, with full permission to be here to conduct my research.”

  Wang Li took the paperwork and scanned it. To his surprise it was legitimate—it had a seal from the Chinese embassy in Vietnam, giving permission for research. Wang Li read the paperwork as the other patrol boats maneuvered to either side, hemming the boat in from the port, starboard, and stern.

  While Wang Li read the documents, one of the lieutenants walked up to the cabin and saw Pham Kai and Minh sitting on an old trunk with their heads down. He called out to Wang Li as he brought them out onto the deck, kneeling them down with their hands on the backs of their necks.

  Still reading the paperwork, Wang Li glanced up. There, to his immense joy, was Pham Kai.

  He immediately drew his gun and pointed it at Vu. “You’ve recruited a criminal who was caught fishing these waters without permission! He is wanted by the Chinese government, and since you’re working with him, you too are a criminal.” He put the gun to Vu’s head, grabbed his collar, and dragged him to Pham Kai and Minh. He pushed Vu down, forcing him into the same position.

  Shocked, the professor began to protest, but one of the lieutenants slapped him with such force that his head whipped to the side. Vu’s eyes watered.

  Wang Li then stood in front of Pham Kai, staring at him for a while. This was the man who had brought him so much pain—and now, here he was again, kneeling. Fate had given him another chance, to make an example of this defiant Vietnamese fisherman. He was going to do everything to him he had planned and more. And then he glanced at Minh—something about her disturbed him. It was as if she were unafraid to die. For that matter, Pham Kai held the same expression. Neither of them appeared defiant—it was more of a sad expression, with eyes staring straight into the sea, as if they had accepted death. “Who is this woman?” he asked Pham Kai.

  “She is my wife,” Pham Kai replied.

  “Why have you given up on life?” Wang Li asked him. “You knew that coming back here would mean imminent capture, torture, and death. Yet you came back anyway, and you even brought your wife. Why?”

  Pham Kai, looking straight into the sea with tears rolling down his cheeks, said, “We have only a few months left together. She has a disease that will soon take her life.”

  “So, you came here to die. Why did you bring this idiot professor along?” Wang Li asked.

  “He has promised us enough money to get my wife her treatment, if we helped him with his research,” Pham Kai replied.

  Wang Li’s stared at Pham Kai and Minh’s defeated form for a long minute. His superstitious nature began to get the best of him. Taking an involuntary step back, he said, “No wonder my luck has gone bad since I met you. You have the shadow of death and ill fortune, and you’ve transferred it onto me.” He wiped his hands on his shirt, as if to cleanse himself of it.

  Vu expressed his apologies, reiterating that they had permission to be here.

  “You know,” Wang Li sneered, “these documents you so proudly carry are no better than the toilet paper on my boat.” He unbuckled his belt and stuffed them down the back of his pants, then crammed them into Vu’s breast pocket. “There, your paperwork has been processed.” The gathered sailors laughed.

  “But I have official permission from your government to be here.” Vu insisted.

  “Shut up!” Wang Li yelled. “Take him to the boat. I’ll have our authorities deal with him.” Focusing back on Pham Kai, he lowered his voice into a snarl and said. “I was going to inflict so much pain on you that you would have begged me to kill you. However, since fate doesn’t have mercy on you, I’m not going to jinx my life any further with your filthy luck.” He now stood several feet from their huddled forms, unwilling to be near them. “Instead, I think we should all watch you steer your boat straight into the reef, sinking it with you two aboard. I’ll give you this gift—you’ll both die together.”

  The lieutenants grabbed Vu and started forcing him toward their boat. Vu knew that getting arrested by the Chinese government would mean torture, imprisonment, and many years of bureaucratic court battles. He started pushing the lieutenants away, resisting their orders. Wang Li ordered them to hold him down in a kneeling position. Scared out of his mind, Vu started begging for forgiveness.

  “Calm down, professor,” Pham Kai whispered in between all the shouting. “You’re making things worse.”

  But Vu went into full-blown panic mode. He thrashed his feet and hands, screaming at the top of his lungs. “But I have papers! I have papers!”

  The two lieutenants were having a difficult time getting him to kneel. Vu’s wails and pleas carried over the entire reef. The crews of the two other boats stood on deck, watching the situation unfold.

  Wang Li shouted at his lieutenants to hold him down, as he pulled a set of brass knuckles from his pocket. Slipping them over the fingers of his right hand, he stood behind Vu, who continued to thrash and scream for forgiveness. Pham Kai and Minh watched in horror as the decent man who had come to their home, full of life and excitement, descended into animalistic terror.

  Wang Li clenched his fist several times, testing the brass knuckles. He grabbed Vu by the hair, aligning the back of the man’s head with his fist. He wound his arm back and smashed his fist into the base of the professor’s skull and upper back. Vu yelped, and his eyes stopped moving, his mouth opened and his tongue jut out. The lieutenants released his arms, and Vu slumped to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

  Pham Kai and Minh could see that his eyes were open, but they lacked any indication of awareness. They could hear him breathe, as if he were trying hard to say something, but only soft grunts came out. Worst of all was the sudden silence. Had the great mind been lost?

  Wang Li called out to Pham Kai. “Look over here, this was supposed to be you.” He nudged the limp doctor with his boot and ordered his lieutenants back to their boat. He too jumped aboard, turning to Pham Kai. “And now, it’s your turn to die. Navigate straight into the reef and sink your boat.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Sixteen-Century Figurehead

  “Gamble everything for love,

  if you’re a true human being.”

  ~ Rumi

  PANTHER TWO LANDED at the Nike factory as Zeke waited, ready to greet the Paramarines. On entering the plane, he was amazed at the sophistication of the equipment. It was a flying science lab. The team was listening to a voice coming out of the speaker system—Poseidon was explaining Goliath, and the Skjold warship. Then it added, “Sebastian, based on today’s satellite images of the Paracel Islands
, Pham Kai’s schooner is near Bombay Reef. The Chinese Navy have increased their patrols of the area, so his odds of capture have gone up.”

  “Poseidon, please connect me to Doctor Hamad,” Sebastian said. Noticing Zeke, he stood up and shook hands, gesturing for him to take a seat with them at the main table.

  Hamza’s voice came through the speakers. “Sebastian, good to speak with you and the team.”

  “Thank you, Hamza, for arranging the boat,” Sebastian responded. “Tell me, how far is it from us?”

  “It’ll reach a cove five miles north of Eo Gio beach in about thirty minutes,” Hamza answered.

  Zeke nodded, he knew the location. The Paramarines piled into his Suburban, loading it with their bags, scuba gear, the specimen slides and Shiloh’s time warp device.

  Sebastian was the last one to join them—he was still speaking with the pilots. They informed him that they would head to Singapore. They’d remain within a two-hour radius, waiting for instructions from Cebrián or Sebastian. Sebastian agreed with their plan. The team had also decided that the specimen and glowing nodule should remain on the plane, where there was power to keep the incubator charged. Before stepping out of the plane, Sebastian gave a last look to the incubator. It was opaque—on and operational.

  Before he hopped in the Suburban, he went to the back to take a final look at their gear, noticing Vu’s Monbento lunchbox tucked away on the side. He found it funny—this was where it had all begun, with the professor’s Vietnamese barbeque. He shut the back hatch and hopped into the Suburban.

  Zeke pulled out of the Nike factory—the guard still hadn’t returned. Zeke had given him money to go and have a beer while the plane landed. He made sure to get out and close the gates so as not to attract any suspicion. They were a mile from the factory when they heard the roar of Panther Two’s engines at low altitude.

  Zeke asked Sebastian to open the glove compartment and pull out a bag. “I was asked to pick up phones for you. These are untraceable satellite phones. Cebrián wanted to make sure he and Poseidon were able to connect with you in the South China Sea. As you know, your current phones have been deactivated for security reasons.” Sebastian passed the new phones to the team.