They were walking on Rannoch Moor. The breeze had come up. Her dark hair blew into her eyes and several small strands caught on one corner of her mouth. He reached out with a finger to move the strands away from her lips. Unable to stop himself, Hamish put an arm around her neck, gently easing her into his embrace.
Ever so slowly, giving her time to protest if she wished, he lowered his head to kiss her. Lips clinging, they stood in the midst of the moor. Surrounded by waving grasses with the whisper of the breeze sighing around them, they stood, lips pressed together. His arms loosely about her, it was all ever so gentle except for their kiss. Lori's lips on his were a fire he could never forget.
He wanted the touch of her lips on his. Nothing, no one could take her place. Without her in his life, he would always be incomplete. To lose her was to lose everything that made life worth living. Hamish lay in the cabin and relived every moment of their life together in the short time he had.
***
It was time. Hamish struggled into the wetsuit. With it on, Hamish put on tennis shoes. A webbing belt came next. It had the knife sheath and diver’s bag hanging on it. Then he dropped his dagger into the sheath and snapped the flap closed.
A glance at his watch told him they were on schedule. The other three needed to be to the point before he left the jet boat for the Sunny Day. From the back side of the point, they couldn’t see him take off, so everything had to be timed.
He would row the skiff across to the schooner, towing the smaller life raft over to the Sunny Day at 12:45 a.m. Glen was to begin calling in the Mayday at the same time. Once Hamish was on the schooner, the first order of business was to find Lori. Hamish knew approximately where the stateroom was but wasn’t sure of the entrance to the area.
From the deck of the jet boat, Hamish leaned over the rail and got the skiff ready. He had already wrapped the oarlocks with duct tape to keep them quiet. The life raft was ready, its oars neatly stowed. The very last thing he would do was put the hood on.
It was time for the three to take the big raft over to the point. Glen had already placed the throwaway marine radio in the big raft. Hamish gave the life raft with Lurch, Thud, and Glen aboard a shove away from the starboard side of the jet boat.
Using the skiff’s line, he towed it to the stern and the dive platform. It was almost show time. Hamish Cadell MacGrough went down on one knee on the deck of the jet boat. As his ancestors before him had, Hamish asked God to be merciful to him and to guide his hand.
Lori couldn’t sleep. She was dreading the following morning. What was Day going to do now? She felt uneasy. Still dressed in the oversized jeans and pullover, she was leaning against the headboard of the bed. There was just a slight click from her door. Scrambling to her feet, Lori placed a hand on the lamp mounted on the nightstand.
The door opened, and a beam of light from a small flashlight blinded her for a moment. Lori's fingers encountered the pull chain on the lamp, and she clicked it on. She glimpsed a figure dressed all in black in the mirror over the bed. The black-clad figure pulled her to him then slapped a hand over her mouth. Lori couldn’t make a sound.
"Luv."
The endearment whispered in her ear caused her knees to give way. He held her up. Lori took a quick glance in the mirror. Totally clad in black, with his face masked, only his eyes were visible. Hamish.
Hamish turned her toward him. "Wheesht."
With his body between her and the door, Hamish kept watch on the door in the mirror behind her.
"I’ll put ye in ah skiff. The tide is turning shortly. Let it take tha boat, use tha oars and stay tae the right bank of tha fjord. There will be help just around tha point. Watch for tha light. 'Tis nae far. I must finish here.”
He almost couldn’t let go of her. He stroked her hair and down over her shoulders to her arms. The feel of her was a balm to his soul, but he had to get her away.
Lori clung to his arm as she whispered in his ear. "The crew is being held, hostage. Their families, he has them."
Suddenly the whole thing changed in his head. He would need to get the crew clear as well. The rubber raft would have to serve double duty. They were witnesses to Day's crimes. Perhaps he didn’t have to kill him.
He whispered in her ear. "At tha point, tell them there has been ah change of plan. I will try tae get tha crew out of here."
Her eyes went wide. Lori’s mouth opened, but he put a finger on her lips. With a shake of his head, he hissed out, "Wheesht.”
Her wrist in his hand, he pulled her to the door and eased it open. Hamish looked around. The corridor was unoccupied. With a jerk, he tugged her along behind him, using his left hand. Hamish hurried her over to the staircase. After a quick glance down the corridor, he went up the steps.
Slowly, he eased his head out of the stairwell and looked around. The ship was still quiet. Hamish reached for Lori's other hand and silently urged her up on deck. She crept out onto the deck without hesitation.
When they reached the rail and the edge of the ship, he dropped full length on the planks. With one hand he made a flat pass across the deck then pointed over the side to the dinghy.
Hamish locked his left arm around the base of the stanchion for the safety line. Lori dropped to the deck in front of him and rolled under the cable.
With his free hand, Hamish placed one of her hands over the other before motioning to the skiff bobbing in the water below.
Lori wove her fingers together. Hamish used her locked hands to lower her to the waiting boat. He got to his feet and untied the painter which secured the skiff to the Sunny Day. Hamish leaned over the small boat. With a sharp push, he sent it out into the channel and the ebbing tide.
A sense of exhilaration filled him. One thing was over with. Lori was free. Now for the rest of the business at hand.
Hamish quickly rolled onto his other side. A glance up and down the deck revealed no one had heard them. The Sunny Day was still quiet. With Lori off the ship, he could breathe easier and attend to business. Now he would try to get the crew out of harm’s way.
First, he had to move the rubber raft. He quietly pulled it around the Sunny Day by its painter. At the bow, he secured it to the base of the bowsprit. He sincerely hoped the crew did not outweigh him.
The crew quarters were where he expected to find them, in the bow. Glad he had brought the zip ties, Hamish quietly slipped into the first small room. After removing his knife from the sheath, he wrapped his fist around it. Hamish clipped the sleeping man on the jaw.
A bandana hung from the chain that supported the berth. He gagged the unconscious crewman before jerking the limp man upright, then put him in a fireman's carry over his shoulder. It was a struggle to get him up the stairs and on deck. After zip-tying his feet and wrists, Hamish lowered him over the side into the raft.
The second crewman was smaller. Hamish got him knocked out, gagged, up onto the deck and into the raft swiftly. The third man was the biggest. By the time Hamish got to him, he was already panting from exertion, and his split knuckles were bleeding.
When he got home, he would add a gym to the glen. Hamish hadn’t realized how out of shape he was. While lowering the last crewman into the raft, he noticed the skinny man had regained consciousness. The bound man was kicking the rubber raft with both feet.
Hamish lowered himself into the raft by climbing down the dolphin striker. He knelt beside the crewman and whispered in his ear. "Keep that up if ye want tae die with Day on this ship. If ye want out of this, lie still."
The man nodded and stopped kicking. Hamish reached up to take hold of the dolphin striker. He pulled himself up onto the pole and had to stop for a moment to catch his breath before climbing onto the bowsprit and back on deck.
Again, Hamish went down amidships to the master stateroom. Now he faced the problem of securing Day for the Coast Guard. He would dearly love to zip tie the little shite and send him to the top of the foremast, but he was not exactly sure how he could accomplish it without killing
the bastard.
Unless... Hamish took a quick look at the door in front of him. All three doors in this corridor had doorknobs. All the doors opened inward. There were several large "ifs" in the plan that popped into his mind. Everything depended on Day's reaction. At the very least, he might have enough time to get away with his boatload of witnesses.
Hurriedly, he removed the nylon line from his knife sheath. Hamish tied a loop securely to the doorknob of the stateroom Lori had been in. Backing quietly down the companionway, Hamish stretched the line tightly over to the door of the storeroom between the two staterooms and secured the line to the doorknob. He kept the cord as tight as he could. If it were plucked, the nylon would sing. With it taut, he took one wrap around the doorknob of the master suite.
He fed the balance of the line across the corridor to the side of the open stair and passed it around the stringer holding the treads. A driver’s hitch would allow him to tighten the cord nearly to the breaking point. It was something he had learned early on from a lorry driver. The knot always kept his equipment protected.
Hamish fed the free end of the line through the loop he tied a third of the way down the nylon line. When he pulled the line tight and tied it, the makeshift pulley would give him more purchase than if he tried to tie the line to the stairs.
Once bound tightly the line would easily keep a grown man from opening the door. It was time to put the plan into action. Watching the master stateroom door carefully, Hamish lightly kicked the stair.
Hamish was betting if Day had his gun, it would be in his hand. The doorknob turned slowly. As he watched, Day tugged on the door. Hamish allowed a little give in the line. Praying Day had his left hand on the knob, he waited.
Suddenly through the small gap between the door and the doorframe, Day's fingers and the barrel of the pistol appeared. With the gun in his hand, Day reached into the gap to grasp the edge of the door. He probably thought he could pull it open. The pistol was clutched in his right hand. It was a stupid move, but the man was probably half asleep and not expecting any problems.
Hamish pulled on the line with all his strength. The door clamped Day's right wrist against the doorframe. For a moment, he grinned at the sight of Day's hand caught in his trap. Hamish hoped he broke the bastard's bones.
Day screamed in pain as he tried to pull his hand free. The gun dropped to the floor. Hamish tied his makeshift snare tight with a smile of satisfaction. There was no way the feckin bastard would get out of it until someone released him.
Day was screaming for his crew as he kicked the door. The wood shook as the trapped man battered it with his foot.
Taking two steps back into the hallway to snatch up the gun, Hamish stared at the wrist pinned in the doorframe. All it would take was one little slash, and Day would spill blood all over the floor, a dead man. He took one step forward. Hamish shook his head.
"Nae." Leaning forward, a flick of his wrist was all that was necessary for him to nick the heel of Day's hand with his knife. Let him think on that.
Ignoring a grunt of pain from Day, Hamish scrambled up the stairs. The gun went over the side as he dashed to the bow of the schooner. Grabbing the bowline where it rode on the cleet, his fingers fumbled to pull the thick rope free. The coils tumbled over the side, and Hamish felt the outgoing tide swing the lighter bow away from the pier.
The big man lost his balance for a moment while turning to scramble down the deck. Dashing back to the stern line of the Sunny Day, he spotted the boat hook secured to the cabin top and wrenched it from the spring clips on the way past. At the stern of the schooner, Hamish released the hawser. Using both hands, Hamish pushed the ship away from the wharf.
Just in case, he attached both of Thud's bombs to the wheel and activated them. The explosion would disable the Sunny Day's steering. Hopefully, the ship would be grounded somewhere in the Portland Canal before it made it out to sea. The ship was moving faster than he had anticipated. Hamish ran forward to the bow.
Not taking the time to climb down, Hamish dropped from the bowsprit into the rubber raft. He quickly sliced the line, and the small rubber craft swung free of the Sunny Day. The little raft was overloaded. But he must get past the river and to the far side of the point. The tide was moving faster now. Hamish was grateful as it made rowing toward the point easier. One of the other men woke.
He leaned over to speak into the man's ear. "Be still an shut tha feck up, or ye'll sink tha raft an I'll let ye drown."
The man went still. Hamish watched the Sunny Day drift into the center of the canal. The schooner's stern was starting a slow turn. Soon the yacht would be sideways in the channel. Hamish was pulling on the oars as hard as he could. When he glanced back over his shoulder, he caught the flash of a torch. Almost!
At that moment the bombs exploded. The schooner's wheel flew into the air. Hamish heard it hit the water. The smaller raft he had been rowing stopped moving. Several hands pulled it clear of the water and onto the bank. Hamish tumbled from the craft. Bent over, he tried to catch his breath.
In the background, he heard Glen sending out a mayday for the Sunny Day from the big life raft. The schooner was well away from the shore and moving quickly away from their position.
Lori knocked him backward to the ground when she launched herself at him. She fell on top of him. Hamish was fighting to breathe and rolled to his side to throw her off his chest. Without Lori's weight holding him down, he was able to catch a deep breath. After struggling to a sitting position, he wrapped his arms around Lori and held her as she sobbed wildly.
Lurch stood above him.
"What's… happenin?" Hamish asked.
"We started calling for the Coasties as soon as we left. And I think I see something coming now... Yeah, let's get out of here! Time to move. Glen, toss the radio."
Hamish reached up to Lurch. With a grunt, the other man pulled both Hamish and Lori upright. Lurch lifted Lori into his arms and carried her over to the larger life raft where the tall man put her down. Thud tumbled into the life raft behind Lori.
Hamish stopped moving long enough to speak to the crewmen still tied in the boat. "Day is going the jail for murder. Ye three need tae tell tha coppers what ye know if ye have any sense."
Then Hamish half-ran, half-stumbled toward the life raft. On reaching it, he gave it a shove away from the shore. Momentarily losing his balance on a slippery rock, Hamish fell into the water. Thud and Glen each grabbed an arm. They tugged him into the raft just as Lurch twisted the throttle of the outboard full on. The big raft sped away from the shore, towing the skiff.
Lurch pulled around to the starboard side of the jet boat. Together, Thud and Lurch pulled the engine from the boat. Lifting it in both arms, Lurch carried it over to the bow, and he laid it on the deck. Glen and Thud got Lori out of the raft. Hamish hauled in the skiff and cleated the painter line securely before turning to help with the life raft. The four men pulled it from the water and turned it upside down over the outboard.
Thud took the bag containing the unused bombs from his jacket. With a grunt, the drummer tossed the bag as far out into the water as he could. All four men were leaning against the jet boat’s cabin, panting. Lori clung to Hamish.
As soon as they could climb inside the cabin of the jet boat, Glen turned the marine radio on to monitor communications. He smiled as he listened to the Coast Guard calling for the troopers. Someone spotted the beached raft.
Hamish sprawled against the back of the settee with Lori wrapped around him. With a sigh, he tugged off the hood of the wetsuit. "Help me get tha bleeding suit off, Lori. I'm feckin freezing."
"I'll get a blanket." Lurch went forward. When he returned with the blanket, Lurch draped it over Hamish's shoulders. Together, Lurch and Lori peeled the suit off Hamish's shivering body.
Finally, free of the rubber, sitting in nothing but his swimming trunks, Hamish pulled the blanket closely about him. He slid into the far corner of the built-in and pulled Lori into his arms. "Anything hot
tae drink in here? My, my teeth are chatterin."
"Aye. I'll handle it." Thud turned to the galley. He sloshed the teakettle once to make sure it had enough water, then put it on to heat.
Glen turned from the radio. "Ah, it seems the Sunny Day has gone aground. It is now a hazard to navigation. Spill it, Hamish. We want to hear all the gory details."
"First, thank ye all, for ah plan done tae perfection." Lori snuggled up to Hamish, and he rubbed his three-day growth of beard on the top of her head. "Ye will have tae testify against tha bastard, luv. But," Hamish looked up at Lurch then over at Glen and Thud. "I think tha cute hoor will be buried in jail until they execute him. Thank God tha State of California will handle tha chore."
The other men nodded in understanding. Hamish did not want Lori to know how he had intended to deal with Day. They all listened as Hamish related how he had pinned Day's wrist in the door. Thud was placing a cup of hot tea in front of Hamish when H.M. explained how he had taken the gun Day had dropped and raced topside, leaving Day trapped in the door frame by his wrist.
"Good! Serves the eejit right. Lori, would ye wish ah cuppa?"
She raised her tear-stained face from Hamish's chest. "Please, Thud."
Hamish took a sip of the tea and sighed. "I was praying tha bugger would act first an think later. Thanks tae God, he did."
Thud placed a cup of tea in front of Lori. "When Lori gave us tha news tha plan had changed, it put me heart crossways in me. Gave me ah rare fright, it did."
Lori reached for the cup and took a sip. The warm liquid was sweet beyond what she usually put in tea, but warmed her well going down. Lori made a slight face.
Thud laughed at her. "Aye, ye look right knackered lass. The sugar will help ye recover."
Glen continued to monitor the radio. "It seems they’re switching frequencies, which tells me they have found something disturbing. It seems the bastard is now in trouble. Good."
North by Northeast Page 14
