Tainted Treasure (China Marine)

by Buzz Harcus

  “Well, well,” came Bert harsh voice as he stirred, coming alert, looking at the two from where he lay tied up on the deck . “Old Harry’s only gone for a few hours and already she’s got herself a new boyfriend—”

  The sudden solid slap to his face cut him short. “I told you to keep a civil tongue in your mouth,” Sigmund snapped. He stood shaking his fist in Bert‘s face. “I don’t vant to see you anyvere near Osa! I mean it!” He jerked Bert’s gun from his pocket and aimed it at his head. “I vill not hesitate to use der gun.”

  “NO! Sigmund,” cried Osa staying his hand. “Please . . . no more deaths!”

  Dark eyes still on Sigmund, Bert shook his head trying to get rid of the cobwebs. “You sucker punched me,” he spat, “but I’ll get you later. You can bet on it.”

  There was a sudden knock on the door.

  “Bert! Are you in there?” came Alward’s harsh voice through the door. He pounded hard again. “If you’re in there with her I’m gonna kick the shit out of you! I told you to leave the broad alone—”

  “They got the jump on me,” Bert called out. “Sigmund’s got my gun.”

  “You dumb sonofabitch!” Alward swore. “How’d he get your gun?”

  “Sucker punched me—”

  “Bullshit! He probably caught you with your pants down—”

  “Dat is not true!” shouted Osa. “He attacked me!”

  “I haf his gun,” Sigmund called. “I vill use it!”

  “Aw, shit!” came Alward’s disgusted voice. A moment later, in a clear, concise voice, he said, “Sigmund, give me the gun.”

  The cabin grew quiet. Osa looked at Sigmund. He shook his head no!

  “Tell you what, Sigmund,” Alward said, “you give me Bert and the gun, and we’ll forget the whole thing.”

  “No. Bert is a dangerous animal!” countered Sigmund. “I give you Bert but I keep der gun for Osa’s protection.”

  “No can do,” Alward called through the door. “I want Bert and the gun. If I don’t get them in the next two minutes, I’ll start throwing your crew overboard one by one.”

  Sigmund gasped. He looked at Osa. She shook her head. “No, no more deaths, please,” she pleaded. “Give them der gun und dat monster.”

  “Okay,” Sigmund called out begrudgingly. “I unlock der door but I don’t vant any harm to Osa. I unlock der door now. No funny business.”

  He unlocked the door and swung it wide. Alward and Doyle stood there guns drawn. Alward peered inside, saw Bert tied up with sash, shook his head, and started laughing. “You dumb bastard! Start thinking with your brain and not your dick!”

  He took the gun from Sigmund and stuffed it in his belt, then bent down and with his short knife, cut the sashes. He eased his knife back in it’s sheath and, with a swiftness borne of anger, his hand smacked Bert’s face solidly with a teeth jarring slap. ”You leave that woman alone!” he growled. “I don’t want you near her! I don’t even want to hear that you were near her! Because if you do, I’ll put a bullet in you! We got things to do, so stay away from her! That’s my last warning to you!”

  Bert rubbed at his face, a momentary spark of defiance in his dark eyes as he looked angrily up at his captain. As much as he wanted to strike back, he kept his mouth shut. He got to his feet averting eye contact with Alward. However, as he made eye contact with Sigmund, he snarled, “I ain’t through with you!”

  “Ven you’re ready,” retorted Sigmund.

  Approaching Sigmund, Alward raised his gun resting the barrel against his temple. Osa gasped. “No!” she screamed. “No!”

  Ignoring her, Alward said in an even, cold voice, “I’m gonna make a deal with you and the cook. I need you on the bridge, and I need her in the galley. That’s the way it’s gonna work. But if either one of you give me any trouble, you’re both going over the side. Do you understand?”

  Sigmund and Osa both nodded. Yes, they understood

  Alward lowered his gun and stepped back. “And you,” he said glaring at Bert, “for the last time, leave the broad alone!”

  With that, pushing Bert before him, Alward and Doyle retreated back to the corridor closing the door behind them.

  “I vill protect you,” Sigmund said, looking into Osa’s tear-stained face. “I mean it; I vill be your shadow.” Blinking away tears, Osa hugged him. “Tank you, Sigmund,” she whispered, holding him tightly, not wanting to let go. He was her pillar of strength.

  CHAPTER 23

  A Starry Cold Night

  The sun was setting in a haze of dusky red and yellow on the western horizon as Harry and Karl settled back for another chilly night. The day had dragged on as the small raft bounced aimlessly about under a harsh, unrelenting sun. The two had settled low in the raft and by pulling their shirts over their heads were able to get some protection from the sun.

  Karl had taken it upon himself to guard the water. They took only a small sip at a time. “Ve haf canned foods, but no can opener,” Karl lamented as he held up a can of tuna fish.

  After a couple of seconds, Harry let loose with a chuckle. “Not so my captain, not so,” he replied as he dug into his right pants pocket. Grinning, he pulled out a knife, his old Marine Corps issue knife. “Very versatile,” Harry said, “much like the famed Swiss multi-purpose knife.”

  Slowly he opened the knife showing the large blade, small blade, screw driver, can opener and one blade to skewer with. Karl broke into a grin as he took the knife, handled it, admired it, and then handed it back. “But does it vork?”

  Harry opened the can opener blade, held it up before Karl, and in moments had the can of tuna opened. The two enjoyed their one and only meal of the day.

  “I tought ven ve saw dat huge ship on der horizon dis afternoon dat dey vould spot us,” Andress said with a long, somewhat sad sigh, as he settled back against the thwart of the raft. “Tomorrow vill be better.”

  “Yeah,” replied Harry offering a somewhat positive thumb’s up.

  As the night grew darker the edge of the moon began rising over the horizon. It grew larger and larger, and soon they were treated to a full yellow moon. Before long it was high above, silver, and lost among the millions of bright stars lighting up the sky. With the crispness of night came cold. Trying to sleep was almost impossible. Karl moved to the bottom of the raft curling up fetal style, his head resting on his arm.

  Late that night Harry thought he saw the lights of a ship on the horizon. He watched for the best part of an hour trying to determine which way the ship was headed. He didn’t bother waking Karl, for before long the lights disappeared.

  Settling down in the bottom of the raft as best he could, Harry’s thoughts soon turned to Osa. It was hard to believe that a week ago the two of them had been at the mercy of Stan and Mr. Ma as they tried to find the hidden cache of black market money behind the wall. It had not turned out as he had planned. As fate would have it, he had had to kill Stan and Mr. Ma in order to save themselves. And, yes, they had recovered the money. Now, a week later, she was in danger again, this time at the mercy of that damned Bert Kilgrew!

  Where the hell was Nurad headed? What would happen to the crew? He was sure those four bastards had let their Asian crew perish as they escaped their ship earlier. If they could callously throw him and Captain Andress over the side, what would be the fate of the Nurad’s crew? He prayed Sigmund would protect Osa. He was her only hope now until, hopefully, he could come to her rescue.

  Nurad sailed on through the same star-studded night. If there had been a change of command aboard ship most of the crew were not aware of it.

  Second Officer Sven Johanssen and his helmsman, Otto Soderman, were surprised as they stepped onto the bridge at midnight for their watch only to find themselves facing a gun held by Bert Kilgrew. “Welcome aboard, mates,” he said waving the two inside. “New rules. New Captain.”

  “Ve haf been taken over by—” Sigmund started to say, but was interrupted as Bert boldly announced: “Pirates!” They glanced from Bert to
Sigmund for confirmation. Sigmund nodded; they were under new command

  Sven started to complain but Bert quickly shoved his gun in his gut. ”Do as we tell you and you live a little longer, matie!” he growled, “Is that understood?”

  Now, having their attention, Bert went on to tell them Captain George Alward was now in command of the ship. He, Doyle and Ace were Alward’s key crew. The bridge crew listened well. “We changed course earlier,” Bert said. “We’re now heading south for Manila.”

  He waved Sven to join him back at the chart table where, with his index finger, he pointed out the course on the chart for Manila. “Oh, and we’re on a six hour watch,” he added taking a seat at the chart table. “Sigmund and his helmsman work till two

  A.M. until we get the watches finalized. I want you all here. Nobody leaves. Sven, you‘ll work an eight hour shift until 8 A.M.Alward comes on at eight. Questions? ”

  Sven shook his head no and reluctantly turned to the task of sharing his watch with the First Officer, Mr. Helmstrund. The helmsmen took turns at the wheel. The sea ahead was clear. Sven wondered at the sudden turn of events. Where was Captain An-dress. He surely wouldn’t give up command of his ship.

  After a while he asked, “Vot does Captain Andress say about dis?”

  “Nothing,” Bert growled. “He and Harry Martin went for a swim in the ocean.”

  “Vot?” snapped Sven glaring at Bert. “ Dat is not funny!”

  “It wasn’t funny to them either. Now pay attention to your duties or you’ll be taking a long swim, too.”

  Sven faced forward not believing what the man had said. Captain Andress had been the skipper of the Nurad for years. No one else could take command of his vessel, no one! He glanced at Sigmund for confirmation. Sigmund nodded yes.

  Bert sat back keeping an eye on the two watch crews. He stared daggers at Sigmund for intervening in his affair with the damned cook. Hell, a piece of tail was a piece of tail. He must have tried to make out with her; they’d been at sea together for several months—or was it because of that older guy, Harry Martin. Anyways, she’d find out what it was like to have a real man make love to her. In spite of Alward’s warning, she’d find out damned soon! He was primed and ready!

  Doyle arrived on deck just before two A.M. relieving Bert, Sigmund and Dirk. Bert beat a hasty retreat from the bridge, but Sigmund was right behind him. Knowing the ship better than Bert, he hightailed it below decks and deliberately stationed himself outside the door to Osa’s cabin. Seating himself on the deck in front of her door, he silently took up his vigil.

  CHAPTER 24

  Repulsing a Second Attack

  Osa spent a nightmarish night in bed tossing and turning, and crying bitter tears, tears that would not stop. Yet, sometime during the darkness of night her exhausted body surrendered and she fell asleep. Daylight was breaking across the horizon filtering into her cabin window when she awoke. Her first thoughts were of Harry and her Uncle. Gone! Unbelievable!

  The storm the other night had raged on endlessly. She recalled having awoken in Harry’s bunk wondering why he hadn’t returned. Now she knew the awful truth. In her heart she knew the two couldn’t possibly survive, as ferocious as the storm was. They had to have drowned.

  The tears began again. Wearily she rolled over and sat on the edge of her bed wiping at her eyes. She caught a glimpse of herself in her dresser mirror. Her face was blotchy from crying, eyes puffy. As she stared at her reflection, she became aware her features were hardening; she had to remain strong. That’s what Harry would want of her.

  A vision of Bert suddenly popped into her mind. How she wished she had a gun so she could kill him! He was a monster! There was no doubt that she’d have to be on guard against him from now on. Harry had warned her that one day she might have to fight for her life. Yes, Bert would be the one she had to guard against.

  Pointing at her reflection in the mirror, she said, “Be strong for Harry.” Her reflection slowly nodded yes. Yes, she would be strong.

  A gasp escaped her at the tangled mass of hair also reflected back at her in the mirror. It was a mess! She had no will to fuss with it. Yet, with a movement borne of years of routine hair care, she ran a comb through it, adjusted a curl, glanced at the mirror again, and shrugged. It would have to do for today. She didn’t care anymore.

  Life was empty now. This day, Saturday, and every day from now on would be nothing without Harry, absolutely meaningless. Her core body was hollow inside; there was no will to go on.

  Somewhat randomly she picked out an outfit to wear, then covered herself with a white chef’s coat. It was almost six A.M., time to head up to the galley. She took one last look in the mirror; she didn’t like her appearance, but what was there to dress up for?

  And what would be the fate of herself and Sigmund, she wondered? Would they be thrown overboard too? And the rest of the crew? What about them? She shuddered, how could those four beasts be so inhuman?

  She unlocked her door and let herself out of the cabin ready to go to the galley, nearly tripping over Sigmund, who lay sleeping across her doorstep.

  “Sigmund,” she whispered in her native language, kneeling down beside him, shaking him, “what are you doing here?”

  Suddenly awake, a sleepy-eyed Sigmund scrambled to his feet, embarrassed at her finding him asleep like that. He managed a quick grin. “Ahhh . . . I wanted to make sure you were safe—”

  “Oh, Sigmund,” she said tenderly. “That was so nice of you, but you didn’t have to sleep outside my door.” She raised up and planted a kiss lightly on his cheek. “But I do appreciate it.”

  Sigmund insisted on walking her up to the galley. When he was sure she was okay, he headed down to his cabin, and flopped down on his bunk.

  Her kiss had been so tender. He touched his cheek, then grinned Of a sudden, he stripped off his work clothes and headed for the shower. If nothing else, he would look good for Osa’s sake. He had to keep her spirits up!

  Osa was surprised to see a cleanly shaven, neatly dressed Sigmund be one of the first people in line when the breakfast counter opened. French toast and hot syrup, scrambled eggs, toast, blue berries, cantaloupe, coffee, cocoa and tea, along with fresh fruit and sweet rolls was the breakfast fare. Osa made sure Sigmund’s tray was filled. In spite of her heartache, she managed a warm smile and wink for his benefit. It was so darned nice of him to make that special effort to protect her. She really appreciated it.

  Bert came through the line several crew members later, a pistol at his hip. Osa glared at him as she slapped food on his tray. He ignored her, but in his mind he knew that before the ship reached Manila, the bitch would be his!

  Osa tried to be her old cheerful self, but it was hard. In spite of her pain, she bent over backwards to be nice to her fellow crew members. Word had already spread throughout the ship; they’d been taken over by pirates. All weapons had been duly confiscated—knives, guns, anything that could serve as a weapon. Men not on duty were herded below deck where they could be guarded by one of the armed pirates.

  Bert sat across the dining area away from the crew, but at a table where he could keep an eye on those in the galley, and a good view of Osa. The snooty bitch! He’d take her down a peg or two. As he slowly ate his breakfast, he watched her, and brooded. Her time was coming, and coming soon.

  Alward and Ace came through the line a short time later in deep discussion, paying scant attention to Osa or any of the crew as they passed through the line. Alward picked up his tray, glanced over at Bert and passed him by. Ace joined the captain. Bert sat alone boiling inside, really pissed now for the cold shoulder they‘d just given him. To hell with them!

  Crossing back to the counter he pushed a crewman aside and helped himself to another hot coffee and a couple of sweet rolls. He was wound up tighter than a banjo string, and about to snap. Still, he sat as his table sipping, munching, and watching Osa.

  When the last man left the galley, he was ready. Osa and Hans closed down the huge ove
rhead doors blocking off the galley from the dining area. Hans turned to the task of pot walloping while Osa, as was her usual routine, headed back to her office to make out a report and to double check her menus for lunch and dinner.

  There was no warning. Bert appeared suddenly before her, a reckless, determined look on his face. “Now, babe, it’s time!” he growled lunging across the desk for her. A choked gasp of fear escaped her as, in the same instant, she violently shoved her chair backwards and spun away, but not before he grasped the front of her jacket, ripping it and jerking her around the corner of the desk. In no uncertain terms he told her exactly what he was going to do to her. “Bert! Stop!” Osa pleaded, struggling to break free of him, but he was not about to stop.

  Grabbing her around the waist, Bert shoved her hard against the edge of the desk, forcing her on her back on the desk. Osa screamed, at the same time kicking out at him hoping to catch him in the groin, but he twisted away. Laughing at her, Bert enjoyed the game—the game of forced conquest that he had played many times before.

  “Damn, but I’m gonna enjoy this, bitch!” he hissed, trying to force her legs apart, trying to shove her skirt up.

  Sharp finger nails suddenly raked across his face bringing a yelp of pain, enough that it stopped him momentarily as he grabbed for his face feeling blood, and just enough of a fleeting moment for her to break free of his grasp. She rolled off the desk, gained her footing, and fled into the galley.

  Hans had his audio tape player on full blast playing those insane songs his generation enjoyed, totally unaware of the dangerous situation happening behind him.

  Bert came roaring into the galley with murder in his eyes. No bitch scratched him that way and got away with it! He’d have her, and then she was shark meat!

  As she was about to run past the cutlery drawer, Osa came to a screeching halt, yanked it open, and nervously grabbed up the first knife her fingers wrapped around, a wicked looking butcher knife. She spun around just as Bert was about to grab her. Waving the knife in front of her, she yelled. “You don’t touch me! You vill never haf me!”