Smoke and Mirrors (The Acer Sansom Novels Book 3)

by Oliver Tidy

  ‘What is it?’ said Acer.

  ‘Probably nothing,’ said Wallace. ‘Thought you might be interested. Come and look.’

  Acer accepted the offered binoculars and aligned them with Wallace’s pointed finger. Bobbing about in the swell a couple of hundred metres away was a small craft. In the gloom of the hour it was difficult to tell much about it – its orientation, or its intentions.

  ‘Radar’s been tracking it for a while. It’s certainly behaving suspiciously. It’s emitting no AIS signal.’

  ‘AIS?’ said Acer.

  ‘Automatic Identification System. It transmits key information about a ship to help those around it recognise it – speed, course, size etc. Any ship in this sea not transmitting immediately falls under suspicion. Like I say, it’s probably nothing – a fishing boat or a small local ship minding its own business – but we can’t be too careful.’

  They watched it a while longer. The distance between the two craft opened a little.

  ‘Night-time attacks were virtually unheard of when piracy was far more prevalent a couple of years ago. I find it hard to imagine anything’s going to happen,’ said Wallace. ‘Just to be on the safe side we’ll perform a few manoeuvres.’

  Acer asked the question with a look.

  ‘A bit of zigzagging. Throw up a bit of a swell for them. They won’t like that. Any thoughts of boarding in the dark are made a lot darker if the target shows itself capable of making things difficult. If they are pirates and they know we’re on to them it might discourage them if their hearts aren’t in it tonight.’

  Acer hung around while the ship went through the motions. By the end of it the sun was setting. The little boat with no lights showing was all but lost to them.

  The man on the radar said, ‘It’s moving away.’

  There was a sense of collective relief.

  ‘False alarm,’ said Wallace, and he sounded almost disappointed.

  ***

  44

  It was the crackle of automatic gunfire that brought Acer quickly awake and instantly alert. He sat up on his makeshift bed and listened hard, hoping it had only been something in his dreams. It wasn’t. The unmistakeable staccato sounds of a couple of quick bursts punctured the quiet. And then there was a long whine as a round ricocheted off metal not far away.

  He was on his feet, in his trousers and his shoes quickly. From under his bedding he retrieved the pistol he’d taken from the dead VEVAK men. Without knocking, he burst into the bedroom. Dominique snapped a light on.

  ‘Off,’ barked Acer, and it was quickly extinguished.

  But not before his night vision had been ruined. He cursed under his breath. It would take long valuable seconds to return.

  ‘Zoe, under the bed,’ he said. He heard her moving and saw her darkened form obeying the instruction. ‘Dominique, come and lock the door after me. Do not open it for anyone or anything. Understand? And then get back in here and with your daughter.’

  ‘What’s going on?’ she said, as she followed him through.

  ‘Don’t know.’

  ‘I heard, was it gunshots?’

  ‘It’s possible it’s pirates. There was a suspicious boat earlier.’

  She let out a low groan. Acer put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed harder than he meant to. He felt her shrink from it.

  ‘No one is going to do that to us again. Get that in your head, Dominique.’

  He let go of her, flicked off the safety and opened the door. He looked both ways up the dimly-lit corridor. Apart from the ship, nothing moved. He stepped out and pulled the door shut behind him. He waited until he heard the key turn and then he moved across and down the corridor to Niki’s door.

  Keeping his eyes flicking up and down the narrow space, he beat on the door with the heel of his hand. ‘Niki? It’s Acer.’

  The door was opened. It was dark inside.

  ‘Did you hear it?’ he said.

  ‘Yes. Pirates?’

  ‘Let’s assume so. You kept your gun?’

  For answer she racked the slide.

  ‘Your choice: stay here and look out for Dominique and Zoe or come with me.’

  She stepped out of her room and Acer was glad to see she was dressed for it.

  As they passed down the corridor a door opened and Acer hid his pistol behind his back as he was confronted with the face of Gordon. Even in the dimness Acer could see the terror in the man’s face and his saucer-sized eyes.

  ‘Get back in, Gordon, and lock the door unless you want to get yourself shot.’

  The man didn’t need telling twice.

  Acer led them in the direction of the bridge. There were more shots. More than one weapon. Distinctive semi-automatic fire and something more careful and calculated. Overhead lights shed a thin yellow glow onto the walkway. At the end of their corridor were stairs. Two short, open metal flights the second doglegging back on the first with a small platform linking them.

  Gun extended, he started edging his way up, his eyes never leaving the top tread. He was mindful that he could just as easily be taken for a pirate as a passenger and that any one of the crew who was armed might not have the training or the restraint to call a warning before pulling a trigger. Niki came up behind him, monitoring their rear.

  He had his front foot on the platform when he heard the rapid approach of boots on the metal floor above. He froze and braced himself. A shadowy figure hit the top tread without slowing.

  ‘Stop!’ shouted Acer; his gun was aimed at the man’s belly. Acer gave him another tread to halt his momentum, although he’d already seen from the man’s outline that he was crew. ‘What’s happening?’

  After the man had swallowed his shock, he said, ‘Pirates.’

  ‘How many?’

  ‘Two boats. I don’t know how many men.’

  ‘Have they boarded us?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Acer had questions, like how the hell did they manage to get so close, then on board when they were known about? But they had to wait.

  ‘Captain sent me to tell you all to stay concealed.’

  ‘You’re too late and we can help. Let’s go.’

  After the briefest of pauses in which another exchange of gunfire cluttered the air, the man turned and headed back the way he’d come. Acer and Niki followed.

  They made the bridge without incident. As they burst in guns were pointed in their direction. Captain Wallace was there with two of his officers. Their grim faces were made ghoulish by the illumination of the instrument panels.

  ‘We can help,’ said Acer.

  Wallace nodded his acceptance. Noticing that both Acer and Niki were armed a slight confusion dented his features. ‘Thank you. They came in very quickly. Two small, fast boats. We don’t know how many there are on board.’ Acer felt the ship altering its course and guessed that the manoeuvrings were still in force to try to deter more boarders.

  ‘Where are they?’

  ‘Forward. Portside.’

  Acer peered out of the big front bridge window but all he saw was night. ‘What happened to the big deck lights?’

  ‘They shot them out.’

  ‘Who have you got?’

  ‘Two men with rifles. But they’re not trained for this. Taking pot-shots in daylight as a deterrent, not close quarters combat in near darkness.’

  ‘What will the pirates do?’

  ‘Try for the engine room. Stop us so they can all get on board.’

  Acer knew the layout of the vessel because he’d made it his business and because he’d been interested to see the workings of the ship.

  ‘How long before the cavalry arrive?’

  ‘A helicopter’s been scrambled from an American warship. They’re on their way. But if we’re taken over they won’t try to put men on us. They can’t risk it.’

  ‘You have contact with your men?’

  Wallace held up a walkie-talkie.

  ‘Tell them they’ve got two friendlies coming from behind them.’ Alm
ost as an afterthought, he said, ‘Both your guys white?’

  Wallace nodded.

  Acer turned and pushed out the way they’d come, Niki close behind him. Outside, Acer stopped and turned to her. It was a cloudless sky and the moon was full and high. It gave them something.

  ‘We’ll go to the crew.’

  She nodded once. There was not a hint of fear about her. Her thick black hair was not covered or restrained and it framed her face and blew about her shoulders in the gusting breeze. Even in the darkness, her eyes were clear and bright and eager. Another time and place and Acer might have had words for her.

  They made their way forward.

  ***

  45

  The two crewmen had their backs to them. Acer was glad that they were together and not covering each other’s positions. He hissed at them and they turned, looking like they might shoot. Acer raised his palm, hoping it would be enough.

  When the moment had passed and recognition was made, he and Niki hurriedly crossed the exposed deck at a low crouch to join them beneath a stout metal barrier about four feet high.

  Acer smiled encouragingly. ‘How’re you doing?’

  Up close, he could see that one of the men was older and fatter than him, and the other quite a bit younger. He had talked with the older man on one of his tours of the ship. He recognised him as an experienced head, an old sea dog, a man who, having traversed every sea and waterway in the world’s weather, found little to surprise him any more. It was he who replied.

  ‘I think there are four of them. They all seem armed.’

  ‘That makes us even then. Where exactly?’

  The man pointed with his rifle. ‘Two over there and, I think, two over there.’

  More shots were fired and they all ducked instinctively. The rounds pinged dangerously off the metalwork, too close for comfort.

  ‘What’s the plan?’ said Acer.

  ‘Stop them getting into the engine room.’ They were interrupted by the young man who had been keeping an eye on the deck letting off a couple of shots.

  ‘They’re moving,’ he said.

  ‘Which way?’ said Acer.

  ‘Towards us.’

  ‘Hold your position here,’ said Acer. ‘They’ll try to distract you or pin you down so they can slip into the engine room.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’ said the older one.

  ‘Surprise them, I hope.’

  The man raised his eyebrows at that.

  ‘You two are the only crew outside, right?’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Good. Do me a favour and watch where you’re pointing that, eh?’ said Acer, and he grinned at the man before moving off into the darkness.

  He could feel Niki was still up close behind him. It comforted him to know it. They inched forward in almost complete darkness, hidden from the reaches of the moon’s glow. Acer was glad he knew and could visualise the way. The sea was relatively calm. Other than the slow, obvious meandering of the vessel and the gentle rise and fall, stability was not a problem.

  They’d gone about twenty metres when he stopped behind a wide, thick metal girder. Niki nudged into his back. Neither of them spoke. There were voices ahead of them. Certainly two. Possibly three. His eyes were now fully accustomed to the darkness. He stared at a dark shape ahead, daring it move.

  He couldn’t risk a signal to Niki that she might miss, so he reached up, took a handful of her hair and pulled her ear close to his mouth. He caught a hint of shampoo and her heat.

  ‘At least two. Stay here. I’m going on. Anyone comes this way and they’re not me, don’t be shy.’

  She said, ‘And how will I know if it’s you?’

  ‘You’ll know. I trust you.’

  He felt her nod, let go of her and, again, keeping very low, eyes front, felt his way onwards.

  They were talking, not whispering. Careless. Not expecting an attacking force. Then he heard the crackle of a communications device and realised why they had to speak. These people were better organised than he would expect and that further troubled him.

  He waited. Behind him he heard more shots and had to hope that they continued to be speculative on both sides. If they got into the engine room, it’d all be over for them. The renewed threat encouraged him to move.

  The sounds were coming from below his position. They were on the cargo deck among the containers. They’d moved. They were moving. He knew that there was a flight of stairs a little ahead of him that led down onto the deck. He found the opening for it and froze. He strained his hearing for suggestions of their position. The sound of the sea and the ship’s engines made it impossible to be sure of anything. He took a deep breath and began to descend.

  He was halfway down when a muzzle flash erupted not ten metres away from him. He felt a searing pain in his calf, like he’d been branded, and then an instant numbness in his lower leg. He fell the remaining four treads to land heavily on the deck. He hadn’t dropped his gun.

  He turned himself and had the gun extended just as a figure burst from between two containers. He fired twice where he judged the stomach to be. The body went down and a rifle clattered noisily on the deck. There was unintelligible shouting but no one else appeared.

  He dragged himself behind some drums. He pulled the air in and out a couple of times before reaching down to his calf. His trousers were ragged and wet with his blood. He gritted his teeth and probed the wound. It felt like a flesh wound and he felt lucky for it.

  He stood. Put pressure on the leg. It hurt but he could move. He stepped over the dead man and limped after his accomplice.

  He moved around the stacks of containers. At that level the darkness was like wading through ink. The moon’s influence was ineffectual. He could make out nothing in the tunnel of black ahead of him. It would be unwise to continue. The second man would only need to stop and wait for him to shuffle along the narrow channel and he’d be an easy target for a burst of random fire.

  He backtracked and went around the obstacles. It was costing him time and he had no idea where the other man had gone.

  He crossed the deck and came to the twin of the flight of stairs he’d just been shot off. He’d been a target on them once, he didn’t fancy it again.

  An explosion dented the air, making him instinctively duck his head. Somewhere in the direction of the two crew. It put him in mind of a hand grenade. And with that thought the game had gone up a level and so had the state of urgency.

  He went for the stairs. He stumbled his way up them and knew he was making noise. He waited for the shot from anywhere. It didn’t come. He reached the top and threw himself down.

  He could see better. The ship had altered its course so that the moon shone down directly on his side of the boat. He saw movement ahead of him. A shadow. And then another one. Two of them. Different sizes. Coming his way. He didn’t breathe. He didn’t blink. He stayed his hand until he could be sure they were hostiles.

  His first shot put one of them down – a heavy thud. Dead before he hit the deck. His second pinged off metal. His third spun the other man round and he fell out of sight.

  Acer wiped the sweat out of his eyes. His leg now felt like something had its teeth in him. He counted the rounds he’d fired and subtracted them from the rounds he’d had. Four left. Not great. Not terrible.

  His position was protected on three sides. The only way that someone could get to him was a frontal assault. As he sat pondering his next move, over the sounds of the ship and the sea he became aware of the high-pitched whine of an outboard engine. He understood that the pirates were on his side of the boat and that they were close, possibly about to make an attempt to get more men on board.

  He moved as quickly as his leg would allow along the deck to where the first man had died. His weapon lay next to him. Acer picked it up and strained his eyes into the shadows for signs of the second man. He recognised the weight and shape of one of the world’s most iconic firearms – a Kalashnikov AK47. And it felt go
od to hold, like a winning ticket.

  Fifteen metres ahead of him was a gap in the structure. It would give him a good viewpoint to the sea and anything in it and close. He edged his way towards it. He found the second man slumped against the side. He looked dead. Acer removed his weapon and moved on. Quicker.

  Leaning over the side, he could clearly make out the shape of one small craft in close, bucking in the disturbance of the ship’s snaking pattern and speed. He fired a short burst into the sea beside them hoping it would be enough to frighten them off. It was. The boat revved and curved away into the darkness. He allowed a satisfied smile to spread across his face.

  Behind him he heard the unmistakeable sound of a weapon cocked. Slowly, he turned to see the form of the fourth pirate outlined by the light of the moon. The man’s weapon pointed directly at Acer’s chest. A quick burst and what was left of him would be thrown over the side for fish food.

  Just as he was wondering why he wasn’t already dead the man was thrown forwards as the report of a pistol close behind him filled the air. Acer flinched as he felt a spray of warm blood fleck his cheek. And then the man was on the floor on his face. Unmoving.

  Niki stepped into the space he’d vacated, her pistol extended in front of her.

  Acer felt the need to identify himself. ‘It’s me.’

  She lowered her gun. Acer was aware of his heart thumping. He believed he’d been about to die. She’d saved his life.

  ‘How many are down?’ she said.

  ‘Four. Now. They’ve retired.’

  ‘We can’t be sure that’s all of them,’ she said, not dwelling on taking a life or saving one.

  ‘You’re right.’ He hobbled past her. She said nothing more.

  Just as cautiously as they’d come up one side of the boat they went back down the other. They encountered no one. Acer hailed the crewmen from a safe distance, identified himself and Niki then joined them.

  The older man looked mightily relieved to see both of them alive and to hear that the ship seemed pirate free. When he understood that there were four dead men lying about the decks he assumed a look of amazement that he might have worn had the Queen of England parachuted in for tea.