The nine-millimeter hollow-point slug had shattered Elena’s left shoulder. Blood pulsed from the wound.
“We can’t stay here,” Yuri said. “We’ve got to go.”
“We can’t leave her like this, she’ll bleed to death.”
Elena turned her head toward Laura. “Please help me,” she whispered.
Laura pressed her palm over the wound just as Yuri gripped Elena’s waist and hoisted her limp body up and over his shoulder, legs forward, head rear. With one eye on the aft deck, waiting for the guard’s return, Yuri searched for a new escape route. It was a couple meters forward. He gestured to Laura with his gun hand. “We need to get up the stairs.”
Laura complied, hauling Maddy in her carrier. Yuri followed with Elena. Blood spattered onto the bleached teak decking of the companionway’s treads.
* * *
“Govnó!” Nick muttered.
“That was gunfire,” Fredek said.
“Króme shútok.”—No kidding, offered Pyotr.
The three men remained at their observation post on the public boardwalk. Although the Yangzi’s hull partially attenuated the pistol reports, the sharp cracks radiated into the tranquil night air like thunderclaps from a summer mountain storm.
Nick surveyed the yacht with his night vision binoculars. At first, he observed nothing out of the ordinary, but then he spotted the guards on the main deck. The bulky Asian who confronted Fredek and Pyotr had his arm around a colleague, helping the injured man forward along the starboard deck.
“Something’s gone wrong,” Nick announced.
* * *
Kwan Chi was up. He slipped on a robe to fend off the slight chill in his stateroom. Peering through the window at the foredeck, he saw only black outside.
He turned around. The bed was empty and the nightstand clock displayed 3:25 A.M. Elena’s dress and underwear remained draped across a bedroom chair. Her high heels sat by a dresser.
Where is she?
The master bath was empty and ditto for his private study.
Kwan walked aft, headed for his private galley, where he expected to find Elena sipping a cup of tea.
As he approached the galley, he heard voices—English-speaking whispers.
What’s this about? He pushed open the door.
Elena was on the tile deck lying on her back, her naked body partially covered by a robe. She moaned—low mournful tones. A woman in standard crew coveralls with her back to Kwan was on her knees, leaning over Elena. She held a towel against Elena’s shoulder.
Blood was everywhere—on the towel, the robe, and the deck.
“What’s going on?” he said in Mandarin.
Laura looked over her shoulder for an instant.
“You!” Kwan shouted.
Astonished at the American’s presence, Kwan stepped forward to investigate.
The black shadow lunged from his right. A burst of lightning flashed through his brain. He dropped to his knees and rolled on his side.
Yuri stood over Kwan, the .45 clamped in his hand. A few strands of hair were embedded in the butt of the Colt’s handgrip.
“You better tie him up,” Laura said. “He’s the one behind all of this.” She turned back to tend Elena’s wound.
Yuri stared at Kwan, who was groaning and reeling from the blow to his temple. Yuri was tempted to kick the son of a bitch in the belly but refrained. The rubber booties covering his feet offered nil protection. He couldn’t risk a sprained ankle. Instead, he knelt down next to Kwan and grabbed his arms, flipping him facedown. Using the cloth belt that Laura had removed from Elena’s wrists, Yuri bound Kwan’s hands behind his back.
CHAPTER 76
Nick outlined his game plan while Pyotr and Fredek helped him lower the dinghy into the water. All three stood on the stern deck of a forty-foot powerboat moored to the same pier as the Yangzi. The huge yacht, lit with enough illumination to rival a carnival marquee, was about fifty yards away.
The eight-foot dinghy kissed the water surface as Nick held the bow painter. He turned to continue his instructions. “I just need a couple of minutes, like what you did before.”
“But what if they want to see IDs?” Fredek said.
“Just bullshit ’em. Tell ’em you’re undercover and heard gunfire. You’ve already called in reinforcements. Believe me, the crew will be freaked about having to deal with a surprise inspection by Canada Customs and Immigration.”
“What about that big sucker?” Pyotr reminded Nick. “He saw us up front and close—drunk as skunks.”
“Part of your surveillance op. After you heard the shots, you had no choice but to act.”
Pyotr grinned. “Okay, boss. Got it.”
* * *
A pulsing tone blared from the overhead. “What’s that?” Laura asked.
Yuri looked up at the speaker. “Some kind of shipboard alarm.”
“That’s not good.”
“No, it’s not. We’ve got to go now.”
Laura stood, wiping the blood from her hands onto the sides of her coveralls. “She’s in bad shape. I don’t know if E—”
Yuri cut her off. “Forget about Elena. We’re going to have to jump overboard.” He handed Laura the Colt and removed his backpack. He had just begun to open it when he heard muffled voices approaching from beyond the galley door. The only word he understood was “Kwan.”
“They’re searching for him,” Yuri said. He leaned over and grabbed Kwan by his bound wrists and launched him upright.
In obvious pain, Kwan grimaced but remained silent.
Yuri gestured to Laura with his hand. She returned the pistol. He marched Kwan to the galley door and pushed it open.
Two men approached from a corridor not far off.
Yuri ordered Kwan, “Tell them to back off—in English. Now!”
Kwan recognized his personal steward and the Yangzi’s engineer. “Go back,” he said.
Both men halted, each fluent in English.
Yuri stared over Kwan’s right shoulder, the muzzle of the Colt tight against the PRC spy’s skull. “Retreat to the deck below now,” he commanded.
“Do what he says,” Kwan ordered.
“Do it—right now or I’ll blast his brains out!”
The men backed up, keeping their eyes on Yuri. They passed around a bulkhead and disappeared.
Yuri manhandled Kwan back into the galley.
“Did they go to the other deck?” Laura asked. She’d eavesdropped on the terse dialogue.
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
Yuri weighed their options. With the crew on alert, his original exit plan was futile. Descending two deck levels while they tried to work their way to the stern was impossible. If they jumped overboard from their current location, they might be picked off like fish in a barrel.
There was only one route left.
Yuri again pushed the MSS spymaster through the galley door, his left hand clamped on to Kwan’s bound wrists and the Colt glued to the back of Kwan’s head. Laura followed with Maddy.
Yuri verified the corridor remained clear. “Let’s go,” he said.
“Where?” asked Laura.
“Up.”
* * *
Nick sat inside the dinghy. He rowed to the seaward end of a floating pier located west of the Yangzi. Across the open waterway, he watched Fredek and Pyotr as they approached the ship’s gangway. A crew member standing watch on the main deck was already halfway down the gangway. Nick raised his NVD, focusing on the guard. It was the beast they’d confronted earlier. He wasn’t brandishing a weapon, but Nick expected he had a pistol or knife or both concealed somewhere on his body.
The guard now stood at the base of the gangway blocking entry to the ship. Nick couldn’t make out the interplay between his operatives and the sentry, but the Asian’s body stance, arms folded across his chest, broadcast defiance—just what Nick expected.
“Good job, boys,” Nick mumbled.
* * *
“I don’t car
e who you are. You cannot board this vessel.”
“We heard gunfire and we’re going to investigate.” Pyotr Skirski inched his way up the gangway with Fredek in his wake. The hulk continued to block their passage.
“You are mistaken. There was no gunfire.”
“What’s that alarm about?” The shipboard klaxon continued to wail.
“A false alarm. It will be silenced soon.”
“Stand aside,” Pyotr ordered.
“You need a search warrant. Until you have it, you’re not boarding.”
* * *
“Hang up,” Yuri ordered. “And turn off that alarm.”
“Do what he says,” Kwan said.
The Yangzi’s captain stood in the pilothouse like the proverbial deer in the headlights, stunned by the unannounced entry of his boss and the black-clad gunman from the aft doorway.
* * *
Nick pushed off from the dock and engaged the oars. He cut across the open water in less than a minute, pulling alongside the Yangzi’s stern. Just before scrambling onto the stern platform where Yuri had boarded, he caught a distant glimpse of Fredek and Pyotr. As planned, they reluctantly retreated, heading back to shore.
Nick was just about to ascend the stairway to the main deck when a tremor in the stern platform pulsed through his legs. He heard a rumble—a dull tone emanating from deep inside the hull.
They’re starting the engines—what’s going on?
The cell phone in his coat pocket began to vibrate.
It was Yuri calling.
* * *
Yuri, Laura, Maddy, and Kwan were in the pilothouse along with the Yangzi’s skipper. The forty-two-year-old master, a PLAN officer, stood at the ship’s helm. Unlike the typical yacht, this one had no steering wheel. Instead, a joystick hand control mounted at the center of the jetliner-like instrument panel guided the ship.
Yuri stood behind Kwan, his left hand looped around Kwan’s leash and the Colt in his right. Laura was at his side, still carrying Maddy in the baby carrier. She held the cell phone to his ear. It was on speakerphone.
“We were spotted,” Yuri said, using Russian. “I had no choice but to shoot the bastard.”
“Are you okay?” Nick asked.
“We’re fine, but Elena was hit.”
“Damn!”
“She was with us on our way out when we ran into a sentry.”
“How bad?”
“Shoulder—a real mess.”
“You need to get off this thing right now,” said Nick. “They just started up the engines—they must be getting ready to take off.”
“I’m responsible for that.”
“What?”
“We’re on the bridge. We’ve got Kwan and the ship’s captain under gunpoint—my hostages. It’s the only way I can keep the rest of the crew at bay.”
“Why did you start up the engines?”
“We can’t stay here. Someone triggered an alarm. Reinforcements could arrive any minute—from the PRC consulate or who knows where. China owns half of Vancouver. I ordered the captain to head into Burrard Inlet. I’ll figure out something once we get there.”
“Can they hear us?”
“Kwan and the captain?”
“Yes.”
“They can hear but they don’t speak Russian.”
“Are you certain?” asked Nick.
“No.”
“Go someplace where you have privacy.”
“Give me a minute.”
Yuri traded with Laura, the cell phone for the Colt. In English he said, “Shoot them in the legs if they try anything.”
Laura kept the .45 aimed at the captives, a round in the chamber and three in the magazine.
Yuri stepped to the far side of the bridge but kept an eye on Kwan and the captain.
He disabled the speakerphone and said, “Okay, what is it you want to tell me?”
“I just managed to sneak aboard this thing.”
“Where are you?” Yuri said, startled.
“The same place you came aboard—your diving gear is still hanging over the side.”
“Pull it up and stow it on the deck for me.”
“Okay.”
Yuri said, “There’s only a skeleton crew aboard, far fewer than we thought, maybe less than ten. I’ve got two on the bridge here with us and I left two tied up below. The guard I shot is either dead or too weak to be a threat.”
“How many others?”
“Kwan’s steward and someone manning the engine room. But there could be more.”
“Are they PLAN?”
“Probably, or MSS.”
Yuri and Nick schemed for the next two minutes, hashing out the plan.
CHAPTER 77
Nick grabbed his phone and called Fredek and Pyotr back to the floating pier. The SVR officers had made it halfway up the gangway when the guard reappeared—it was the brute again. He rushed down the incline, halting their advance. The resulting verbal barbs between the three provided the distraction Nick had engineered.
Crouched next to the starboard bulwark on the main deck, Nick monitored the ensuing argument.
Remaining low, Nick shuffled forward and stepped onto the gangway. Pyotr upped his vocal assault on the Asian.
“You are hereby ordered by Canada Border Services and Immigration to submit to our inspection. If you refuse, we will—”
The guard felt Nick’s footsteps on the aluminum deck and turned. Nick was on him before he could retrieve the pistol from his shoulder holster.
Knocked silly by a vicious whack to the back of his skull, the guard dropped to his knees and fell face forward onto the aluminum deck. Momentum propelled his 260-pound bulk down the gangway’s incline. Fredek and Pyotr jumped aside, allowing him to toboggan onto the concrete deck of the floating pier.
Nick and his agents checked the cataleptic Asian. Nick slipped the fish billy into a coat pocket. He had found the salmon bludgeon in the dinghy.
Nick checked the surroundings before addressing his charges. “Help me pick up this prick. We need someplace to stash him.”
“Then what?” asked Fredek.
“We steal this bitch and go for a ride.”
* * *
In the pilothouse Yuri hung up his phone and whispered to Laura, “It worked.” He kept his eyes on Kwan and the captain.
With her back to the captives, she mouthed the words, “They’re aboard?”
Yuri nodded. He stepped forward and addressed the ship’s master. “Time to depart, Captain.”
“But we’re still tied to the dock.”
“No, we are not. The mooring lines have been released.”
“But how—”
“Do what he says,” ordered Kwan.
“Yes, sir. Departing now.”
The captain engaged the bow and stern thrusters and the Yangzi crabbed away from the floating pier. About thirty feet away from the dock, the captain switched off the thrusters and throttled up the main engines.
* * *
Eighteen minutes after the MSS guard made his frantic cell phone call from the Yangzi, a black Mercedes-Benz SUV roared up to the street fronting the marina. The four-man armed security team from the PRC consulate rolled down the shore-side gangway, defeated the locked gate, and clamored down the main walkway of the floating pier, only to discover that the Yangzi had slipped her moorings.
About to return to the consulate empty-handed, one of the gunmen heard feeble moans. He tracked them to a fiberglass dock box near the intersection of the guest dock and the main walkway of the pier.
It took all four to haul the mammoth guard out of the container and deposit his mass into a dock cart. By the time they shoved the overloaded cart up the ramp, the guard had regained enough of his wits to reveal that the Yangzi was hijacked.
CHAPTER 78
The Yangzi passed under the Lions Gate Bridge and headed west into Burrard Inlet. It was 4:18 A.M.
Nick, Yuri, and Laura manned the bridge. Kwan and the captain were one
deck below under guard. The subdued scarlet lighting inside the wheelhouse minimized glare. Yuri sat in the pedestal-mounted captain’s chair. Intimidated by the vessel’s size, he kept the speed down to a modest five knots. Standing on Yuri’s right, Laura monitored the radar screen and the GPS vessel traffic display while holding her daughter. Leaning over Laura’s shoulder, Madelyn bobbed her head as she surveyed the new environment. On Yuri’s left, Nick scanned the ink-black waters ahead with his night vision binocs.
“Looks clear ahead to me,” Nick offered.
Laura looked up from the console. “Same here. No close-by traffic, just a southbound tug and barge in the Strait.”
“Good,” Yuri said. He was relieved to have successfully maneuvered the huge yacht around the dozen or so ships anchored in the inlet waiting to offload or take on cargo in Vancouver Harbor.
Yuri glanced at the electronic navigation console to his left. The LCD screen displayed the color image of a Canadian chart of the southern Strait of Georgia.
“We’ll stay on this course for another twenty minutes and then head south.”
“How long will it take to reach Seattle?” Nick asked.
Laura addressed Yuri, “You still want to use Rosario Strait?”
“Yes, I want to get out of Canadian waters as soon as we can.”
She turned toward Nick. “Late in the afternoon, four to five o’clock.”
“Then what?” Nick asked.
Yuri answered, “I’m not sure—maybe anchor this thing offshore and take one of the tenders to shore.”
“What about our little collection below?”
Joining Kwan and the captain in the upper-deck salon were the ship’s remaining crew. All had surrendered without struggle. Fredek and Pyotr stood guard, armed with Yuri’s Colt and the “beast’s” pistol.
“I don’t know.” Yuri had not anticipated the events of the past hour. His original plan was to find Laura and Maddy and then sneak them off the yacht without detection. Stealing the Yangzi and holding its crew at gunpoint would have been unfathomable earlier.
Laura said, “We have to turn them over to the Coast Guard, maybe the U.S. Navy.”
“For kidnapping you?” Nick said.
“No. To protect Yuri.”
“What?” echoed both men.
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