Darkness: Captain Riley II (The Captain Riley Adventures Book 2)

by Fernando Gamboa

  The British naval captain had a momentary internal debate before assenting, like Caesar saving the Christians from the lions. “Give them a flashlight,” he said with a magnanimous air. “And the pistols, without bullets or clips.”

  Saying this, he turned to the other side of the bridge, making it clear he didn’t want to know anything else about the affair.

  Ten minutes later, a lifeboat with four men aboard rocked to the rhythm of the slight swell. They watched the silent shadow of the Duchessa d’Aosta slowly receding into the distance, pulled by the tugboat Vulcan toward Nigeria.

  “Nice guy, that captain,” Jack said as he sat on the foredeck. “Don’t you think?”

  “He certainly has his reasons for being pissed,” Riley said. “I’d say we should be glad he didn’t throw us overboard with weights tied to our necks.”

  “Do you think he could have done something like that?” Jack asked with surprise.

  “Who knows? Doesn’t seemed like the type of guy who likes being fooled with. Isn’t that right, Commander?”

  “Our briefs spoke of an irritable and occasionally violent officer,” Hudgens said, “but also that he sees himself as a noble and valiant hero, something like a modern Walter Raleigh. So no, I don’t think we were in that much danger.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure,” Marco said. “The water’s rising.”

  “Rising?” Riley asked, confused. “What are you talking about?”

  “In the boat,” he said, pointing down. “The water in the boat is rising.”

  “Cagondeus!” Jack shouted, lifting up a foot dripping with water. “It’s true! We must have a leak.”

  “Shit,” Hudgens said, realizing how fast it was coming in. “We’re going to sink.”

  “We have to stop it,” Riley urged. “Look for something, anything. We’ll use our hands if necessary. If we sink we’re fucked.”

  “Use the flashlight, Alex,” Jack ordered. “Make the signal.”

  “No! We’re still too close to the coast,” Hudgens said. “They’ll find us.”

  “It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Riley said, taking the flashlight from its cover. “How about you?”

  “I don’t want to swim there,” Marovic answered, looking around uncomfortably.

  “Turn the goddamn flashlight on, shit!” Jack said.

  Riley didn’t wait for him to say it again. He pointed toward the bow and started turning the flashlight on and off at regular intervals.

  The four men watched in tense silence for the response signal from the Pingarrón as they looked toward Santa Isabel.

  It did not come.

  “They’re going to find us,” Hudgens repeated.

  “Shut it,” Jack replied. “Don’t stop signaling, fuck,” he insisted, more and more worried. “They have to see us.”

  Riley felt the water gushing into the boat, cursing the lazy Italian sailors for apparently not having bothered to protect it from termites.

  He felt the water start to enter the top of his boots and knew that at that rate he’d be up to his neck in a matter of minutes. Literally.

  Just then a splash shook the smooth surface of the water less than two yards off starboard.

  “What was that?” Hudgens asked.

  “No idea,” Riley admitted. “Maybe a dolphin.”

  Then an unmistakable triangular fin rose to the surface a couple of yards away, reflecting the lights of the island on its rough skin.

  “No, not a dolphin,” Jack said uneasily.

  “That’s bad,” Marovic said with his characteristic wisdom.

  No one disagreed. It was without a doubt bad.

  “Keep plugging as much as you can,” Riley urged, still signaling. “Use your boots as blocks. We’ve got to do our best.”

  For the next five minutes the water level rose faster until it reached the benches they sat on. Two minutes later they’d be swimming.

  “Look,” Marco said, pointing toward the island. “They turned off the lights.”

  Confused, Riley realized it was true. For some reason all the lights of Santa Isabel had suddenly gone off.

  “They must have disconnected the generators,” Hudgens said, still plugging. “They must have stopped looking for us.”

  “That fast?” Jack said, getting tired. “Very strange.”

  Then a couple of waves suddenly fell over them, making what was left of the boat keel over.

  “Fuck. Just what we needed,” Jack grumbled, holding on to the side to keep his balance.

  Though what really bothered him was that his old comrade was secretly laughing at him.

  “Care to share what the hell is so funny?” he barked, then added in the same tone, “And why the hell did you turn off the flashlight?”

  “Because we don’t need it anymore, my friend.”

  “What?” Hudgens asked. “Why do—”

  The answer came from a ray of light from above, like a divine revelation.

  “Forgive me, gentlemen,” a voice near the spotlight asked with a strong Portuguese accent. “Could you tell me the best way to get to Lisbon?”

  “Head straight and take the second right,” Riley said, pointing. “Can’t miss it.”

  “Stop messing and throw a ladder, César,” Jack groaned. “My ass is getting wet.”

  Commander Hudgens turned toward Riley. In the spotlight, Riley could see the mix of relief and anger on his face. “You knew?” he asked, annoyed.

  “Not till a moment ago,” the captain clarified. “When the wave appeared, I put two and two together and realized they hadn’t turned off the lights of the city, but the Pingarrón had eclipsed it.”

  As soon as Julie had skillfully maneuvered the Pingarrón to the side of the small boat, César lowered a ladder and soon the four men were climbing it.

  “Welcome aboard, Captain,” César said to Riley when he’d gotten over the gunwale and stood on deck.

  “Thanks, César.” He extended a hand. “Everything good here?”

  The mechanic’s face darkened. “I think you’d better talk to Julie.”

  Riley was suddenly unnerved. “What happened?” he asked.

  “It has to do with Carmen,” he explained gravely.

  “Carmen?” Suddenly, his legs went weak. “Did something happen to her?”

  “I don’t know.” César shook his head and pointed toward the bridge. “Talk to Julie.”

  Riley immediately ran to the bridge, his heart pounding. For the five seconds it took him to get there, a stream of dark images flashed in his mind. If something happened to Carmen . . .

  He opened the door to the bridge.

  Julie was waiting for him, still in her gorgeous party dress, leaning on the wheel with a remorseful look. “Capitaine, I—”

  “Where is she?” Riley spat. “Where’s Carmen?”

  “Je ne sais pas,” she confessed, on the brink of tears. “At the party she told me to leave, and she stayed there and didn’t come back to the ship.”

  “You left her on the island?” he asked, raising his voice. “You abandoned her there?”

  “Yes!” Julie replied, crying. “I didn’t want to, Capitaine! But I had to make a choice and I decided to follow the plan. I had to!”

  Riley realized that he’d just lost his temper, and he went up to his pilot and took her in his arms, trying to calm both her and himself at the same time.

  “It’s okay,” he said gently, rubbing her back. “You did the right thing.”

  Riley realized that despite all of Julie’s experience, at that moment she was a young woman who’d been forced to make a terrible decision.

  “I didn’t want to, Capitaine,” she repeated with a hiccup, wetting his shirt with tears. “The Germans were going to leave . . . and she said . . . I had to leave.”

  Riley nodded solemnly. “I would have done the same thing,” he replied. “I’m very proud of you, Julie. Really.” He wiped the tears from her face with his thumb.

  Her lips con
torted in a mix of grief and relief. Then she shook her head and tutted. “Thanks, Capitaine,” she said.

  “You don’t have to thank me,” he interrupted, adding a wink.

  Just then Jack and the rest of the crew entered. “Fuck, Alex, I just found out.” He put his plump hand on his captain’s shoulder. “What do we do? Go back and look for her, right?”

  To everyone’s surprise, Riley shook his head. “No,” he answered. “I’ll go by myself.”

  “I disagree,” Jack countered. “She’s part of this crew, and if one goes, we all go. Right?” he asked the others, who all responded, “Yes.”

  “I appreciate the sentiment,” Riley said, “but think about it. If we get near Santa Isabel with the Pingarrón they’ll see us immediately. It’d be much better if I go in the launch right now while you take the ship to the other end of the island. Carmen and I will meet you there.”

  “It’s a terrible plan,” Jack said, rolling his eyes, “like all of yours.”

  “Maybe, but it’s the only one there is, my friend. Hudgens,” he said, pointing. “I need all the money we have left. If they caught her I’ll have to bribe a lot of people.”

  The navy commander hesitated a moment but agreed and went to his cabin.

  “I’m going too,” César said, to everyone’s surprise.

  “Thanks, but—”

  “Look at me,” he said, pointing to his face. “My skin color will let me blend in, so no one will recognize me.”

  Riley didn’t say no, realizing the mechanic was right.

  “They’ll be looking for you,” he added. “It’ll be very hard for you to move throughout the city.” He grinned. “No one will pay attention to one more Fernandino. I’ll be invisible to them.”

  Riley inhaled deeply and exhaled quickly, running his hands along his face. “Okay,” he said finally. “Thank you, César. We’ll go together.”

  “I’ll get the launch ready,” Jack said, leaving.

  “Good, and Julie . . .”

  “Oui?”

  Riley took the marine chart of Fernando Póo that was resting on the console, pointing to the extreme southern part of the island. “As soon as I leave, head one-eight-zero to—”

  “Alex!” Jack’s deep voice interrupted him.

  “Hold on!” he responded and kept instructing Julie. “You can anchor half a mile from—”

  “Alex!” Jack called again.

  Irritated by the interruption, he slapped the map and went to the doorway. “Fuck, Jack!” he said. “Can’t you wait a minute?”

  “I could,” he responded, “but I think it’d be better if you came.”

  Suddenly, Riley realized something terrible may have happened. They really weren’t that far away from the port of Santa Isabel. Although the briefs said the artillery wasn’t positioned to fire on the ships, they could have been wrong. Maybe the Pingarrón was in their sights now.

  Worried by that horrible possibility, he went down the metal stairs and headed for the bow, where Jack leaned on the gunwale facing the island.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, nearly choking from anxiety. “Are they attacking us?”

  Jack gave him an unsettling smile. “That woman of yours has more lives than a cat,” he said admiringly, pointing out somewhere halfway between them and the island.

  Riley looked, and poised on the bow of a large canoe driven by oarsmen, holding an oil lamp, was a figure with black hair seeming to float over the water toward the Pingarrón.

  25

  The slim fishing canoe was more than forty-five feet long and powered by more than a dozen tough rowers. It took them less than three minutes to get to the side of the ship.

  The two hulls bumped into one another and made the dull sound of wood on steel. The Pingarrón sent down a ladder, and Carmen climbed aboard, barefoot. The elaborate bun of a few hours ago had become a memory, and the chiffon dress was now soaked and sticking to her skin revealingly.

  For a moment the whole crew just looked at her, full of so many questions about her miraculous appearance they couldn’t get any of them out.

  Finally, Julie broke the silence and burst into tears, hugging Carmen like she thought she’d never see her again. “Oh là lá! Thank God! Thank God!” she said through tears of relief.

  That broke the spell, and the rest of those present formed a happy huddle around Carmen, who was so moved by the show of affection that tears threatened her eyes as she smiled with joy.

  The last one to approach her was Riley. Though he tried not to lose his composure, he took her face in his hands and said nothing before he kissed her with all his passion. “You cannot imagine,” he said, slowly taking his lips from hers, “how worried I was about you.”

  “Yeah, well,” she said drily.

  Carmen’s tone surprised Riley, but before he could ask what happened, a cough behind him made him turn.

  It was Zorrilla, leaning on the gunwale with his hands in his pockets, the hint of a mischievous smile on his face.

  “You!” Riley said.

  “Yeah, me,” he said, opening his arms.

  “But . . . how?” He pointed at Carmen. “When? Where?”

  Zorrilla scratched his neck modestly. “Truth is, she deserves the credit,” he explained. “We were already on our way to Nigeria when I heard someone shouting on the beach. At first I thought I was imagining it, but the rowers confirmed they too heard a woman’s voice calling me. Then there was a lightning flash and I saw her.” He smiled at Carmen. “Couldn’t miss that dress. So we turned around and got her, and she told me where to go. To be honest,” he concluded, smiling, “I was just a lucky cabbie.”

  “You’ve been much more than that, Abelino,” Carmen said, kissing him on the cheek. “You saved my life.”

  “Well, no big deal,” he said, taken aback.

  “Regardless,” Riley said, offering his hand, “I thank you from my heart.”

  “And what are you going to do now?” Jack asked. “Want to come with us?”

  Zorrilla shook his head. “Thanks, but I have my own plans.” He gestured toward the canoe waiting a few yards down.

  “In a canoe?” Julie asked, quite surprised.

  “They’re Nigerian fishermen,” Zorrilla said. “As soon as we get away from the coast we’ll raise sail, and before dawn we’ll be on the continent.”

  “And when you get there? What will you do?” Riley asked. “Go back to Spain?”

  “God, no!” he answered, throwing up his hands. “There’s nothing there for me now. My final destination is the United States,” he said, turning to Hudgens. “Isn’t that right?”

  The ONI officer nodded solemnly. “We’ll follow through on our part,” he said. “Although the information you gave us was wrong.”

  “What do you mean? You didn’t find what you were looking for?”

  “I don’t think Hold Seven was the right place.”

  The Spaniard looked shocked. “I was sure it was there.” He scratched his chin pensively. “I spent a fortune getting those Italian sailors drunk for months, and they all agreed there was something strange in that hold and it was the only one they were completely banned from entering. I would have bet an eye that what the English wanted was right there.”

  “Then you would have gone blind, Mr. Zorrilla.”

  “Hold on,” Riley said. “Then you were our informant? I thought you worked for the British.”

  “That’s what they think too,” he said with a cunning smile. “But Uncle Sam offered me a better deal than those uptight tea drinkers, so I killed two birds with one stone. Gave a nice kick to the fascist ass and got to start a new life in your country.” He smiled again. “We all win.”

  “And why am I just finding this out?” Riley asked seriously. He turned to Hudgens. “Did you not trust me?”

  “The fewer people that knew of Mr. Zorrilla’s double game,” the commander clarified, “the less likely it would be uncovered. And in the end,” he added, glancing at Jac
k, “you sometimes need to withhold information from your crew members. Isn’t that right, Captain?”

  Furious at Hudgens’s cheap shot, Riley clenched his fists and thought whether he should reprimand him or grab him by the collar. But before he could decide, Zorrilla jumped in again.

  “Anyway,” he continued, “it’s been a pleasure working with you and all, but I gotta go now. It’ll be a long road to Nigeria with my friends, and we can’t let the storm catch us. I wish you a pleasant journey,” he added, shaking everyone’s hand one by one. “Maybe we’ll meet again one day.”

  “Thank you for what you’ve done,” Carmen said and gave him two more kisses on the cheek. “If we see each other again, let me take you to a nice restaurant on Fifth Avenue,” she added with a wink. “Just us.”

  The Spaniard swallowed and glanced at Riley, afraid to accept the invitation.

  “Ahem . . . of course, of course,” he said with a nod.

  Then he went right down the ladder to the canoe, which immediately began heading into the distance and disappeared amid the chanting of the rowers.

  “Well . . . ,” César said, breaking the strange silence that had come over them. “You didn’t find anything on that ship?”

  Turning his back on the sea, Riley addressed his mechanic. “Nothing worthwhile . . . given the risk we all took.”

  “And that’s it?” he asked, incredulous. “All done?”

  “Yup.”

  There was only one word to describe the looks on all their faces: disappointment.

  “And what do we do now, Capitaine?” Julie asked.

  Riley leaned on the bulwark, crossing his arms. “Now, nothing,” he announced. “The mission is over. Go home.”

  Julie frowned. “Empty-handed?”

  Riley exhaled, suddenly tired. “Empty-handed, Julie.”

  “Well, speak for yourselves,” Marco said, a wily smile on his painted black face.

  He put his hands in his pockets, and when he took them out, he had a couple of gold chains and a wristwatch.

  “What the hell’s that?” Jack asked.

  “Keepsakes from the Duchessa,” he explained proudly. “When you were in the hold and I was on the bridge, the Italians gave me some things they wouldn’t need anymore.”