The Killing Ship

by Simon Beaufort

  Joshi’s shriek of fright brought him back to his senses.

  ‘Hold on!’ he yelled, twisting the throttle open as far as it would go. The tactic had worked once, so why not again? True, this floe was not conveniently shaped like a ramp, but what other option was there? He narrowed his eyes against the wind and took aim.

  For the second time, he managed to raise the propeller before the collision, but it was a much rougher ride. The boat caught the edge of the ice with such force that it careened over it in a wild skid that made the world spin in all directions. Then they were across it, and into more ice-choked water beyond.

  The last boat – not from Lena but her sister ship Volga – should have done the sensible thing and conceded defeat, but the thrill of the chase was hot in her driver. He merely copied what Berrister had done, although at a point where the ice was lower and flatter, which meant his skid was even more violent. His boat raced towards them at a terrifying speed, completely out of control.

  They were all bracing themselves for the impact when it hit submerged ice and slewed to the right at the very last moment. The tiller was wrenched from the driver’s hand, and there was a metallic screech followed by a bang as its propeller sheered off. The enemy Zodiac spun crazily, before fetching up hard against a berg with towering and very unstable blue pinnacles.

  There was a brief silence followed by a crack and a tearing groan. The two gunmen flung their arms over their heads as one of the ice spires toppled forwards, narrowly missing them, but the driver didn’t flinch. He gave a diabolical smile and raised his weapon. There was no question of mistaken identity. It was, without doubt, Freddy, their missing cook.

  THIRTEEN

  There was a moment of total stillness before anyone spoke. Berrister, Sarah, Mortimer, Joshi and Drecki were in one boat, the motor off and the propeller still raised. They were pressed up against one large, flat floe. Freddy and his two compatriots were on the other side of it, with the iceberg towering above them and their engine torn to pieces. It was Freddy who broke the silence.

  ‘Get out of the boat, real slow,’ he called, motioning with his gun. ‘Do anything dumb, I’ll shoot you.’

  Joshi gazed at him in disbelief, while Berrister sat heavily on the pontoon, too drained to feel anything at all. No one made a move to do as Freddy had ordered.

  ‘But I thought you saw his body,’ Sarah said, her voice unsteady with shock. ‘In the Big Crevasse.’

  ‘He saw Dan.’ It was Freddy who spoke, his voice gloating. ‘I swapped clothes, then left him on the top of the glacier for Rothera to find. If he was down the Big Crevasse, the wind must’ve blown him there.’

  ‘But why?’ asked Mortimer. He had recovered more quickly from his astonishment than the others and had noticed that the berg behind Freddy was still settling from the thump it had received from Freddy’s boat. Could he prolong the discussion until more of it collapsed, giving them a chance to escape in the resulting confusion? He determined to try.

  ‘Because I wanted everyone to think I was dead, of course,’ replied Freddy contemptuously. ‘And it worked – you all thought I was a goner. Now get out of the—’

  ‘We knew there was a traitor,’ said Sarah, also quick to regain her composure, although her shock had given way to rage. ‘One who told these bastards about the whales, and sabotaged our communications and stole our food. I thought it was Graham, and he thought it was Dan. But it was you.’

  Freddy smirked. ‘The reason Graham thought it was Dan was because I’d been hinting for a few days that Dan wasn’t a team player. I planned from the start to make you think he told the fleet about the blues, see. It’s why I shot him – so he couldn’t say otherwise. But the whole thing was a massive cock-up and—’

  ‘You shot Dan?’ breathed Berrister, shocked.

  ‘You betcha. I shot at him and caused an ice fall. I assumed he was under it, but then I saw him on the glacier. God knows how he made it up there. I shot at him again, and found him later, frozen to death.’

  ‘We heard that,’ said Mortimer, nodding and hoping to encourage him to talk more. When Freddy stayed silent, he pressed on. ‘Gunfire and a scream. However, a superficial glance at a mangled corpse might have fooled Andrew, but it wouldn’t have deceived a pathologist.’

  ‘Never mind that,’ snapped Freddy, so that Mortimer saw this hadn’t occurred to him, and he was none too pleased to have it pointed out. ‘Get out of the boat and—’

  ‘Where did you get the gun from?’ interrupted Mortimer. He glanced at the ice. It was definitely leaning more now. If he could just keep the discussion going … ‘They’re banned down here.’

  ‘I always carry one,’ replied Freddy. ‘You never know when it might come in useful. I just shoved it in with the food we shipped down.’

  ‘We found your good-luck hat,’ said Joshi. ‘And blood …’

  ‘I lost the hat chasing Dan, but I don’t know about any blood. A penguin’s, probably. There are lots of leopard seals around here now, hunting all the chicks that haven’t learned how to avoid them. But enough jawing. Get out of—’

  ‘So, you planned all this from the beginning?’ pressed Mortimer, a little desperately. ‘You lived with us for three months, knowing we would die at the end of it?’

  He sensed the others’ bemusement at his eagerness to chat with the man who had murdered their friend, and knew Freddy wouldn’t keep answering questions for much longer, especially as his two companions were making their disapproval known with agitated tuts and sighs. He only hoped his efforts would pay off in time.

  ‘Of course not,’ said Freddy crossly. ‘I tried to get you to go on a hike with me, but you wouldn’t come. You’ve only yourselves to blame.’

  ‘If we’d gone to the Byers Peninsula, we’d have seen Galtieri,’ Berrister pointed out, while Mortimer marvelled that Freddy’s plans should have so many snags; the whole thing was indeed a cock-up. ‘It wouldn’t have made any difference.’

  Freddy shrugged irritably. ‘Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter now, does it?’

  ‘The missing food and the broken generators,’ said Mortimer quickly, as one of Freddy’s companions tapped the Australian smartly on the shoulder, telling him to end the discussion. ‘Was that you?’

  ‘Yeah, but it wasn’t my idea. I was told to do it, just in case I couldn’t get you to leave.’

  ‘You little shit,’ began Sarah angrily.

  Mortimer cut across her, giving her a warning jab in the back at the same time. It would be a pity if she antagonised Freddy into shooting them just when the ice was almost ready to drop …

  ‘What possessed you to get involved in the first place?’ he asked. ‘Money?’

  Freddy shrugged. ‘What else? I’ve been working with them for years. There are dozens of us, all round the world – pilots, cooks, researchers, all sorts. We get a retainer, and if we spot whales and the hunt’s successful, we get a bonus as well. I’ll make a fortune this year. Six blues!’

  His crony poked him again, harder this time, and Freddy spun around to glare at him. The man glowered back, but was the first to look away. Purely to show him who was in charge, Freddy continued to talk.

  ‘When I saw them, I radioed it in as soon as I got back to camp. Andrew helped. He told me everything I needed to know – how many adults, how many calves. He even lent me a book on them.’

  Berrister felt sick. It had been a magical moment, and one he thought he would treasure. He never imagined it would turn into a nightmare.

  ‘So you decided to sacrifice them and us for money,’ said Sarah scathingly. ‘And ever since your “death”, you’ve been contacting Rothera, telling them that all’s well.’

  Freddy nodded. ‘But then I started having problems with Noddy Taylor and his bloody krill. We had to get Lena to ask you about them.’

  Mortimer noticed the pinnacle had slipped another few degrees. He eased towards the engine, ready to yank it into life.

  ‘They’ll kill you, you know,’ sa
id Berrister softly. ‘You know too much.’

  Freddy laughed harshly. ‘Bullshit! I’m vital to their plans, because it’s me who gets to tell Rothera what happened to us.’

  ‘And what’s that exactly?’ demanded Sarah, full of disdain.

  ‘Mercury in the water supply,’ replied Freddy promptly.

  Sarah curled her lip. ‘No one’s going to believe that.’

  ‘They will. Soon, Rothera’s going to start getting some pretty weird messages from me. When they come to investigate, all they’ll find is corpses and a rusted canister with mercury leaking out. Some previous expedition left it, see, and it got into our drinking water. And we all know that mercury sends people mad.’

  ‘In that case, you can’t shoot us, can you?’ pounced Sarah triumphantly. ‘Because I assure you, Rothera can tell the difference between mercury poisoning and gunshot wounds.’

  Freddy was contemptuous in his turn. ‘Anyone I kill will be dumped at sea. Rothera will just assume that you wandered off to the glacier and died up there.’

  ‘It still won’t work, dickhead,’ said Joshi defiantly. ‘Because none of us drank Hasim’s poisoned beer. There’s no mercury inside us.’

  Freddy shrugged. ‘Then Mr Orlando will come up with something else. He’s brilliant – thinks up solutions to everything. But my friends here think we should be getting back, so get out of your boat, nice and slow.’

  ‘No,’ said Sarah, folding her arms. ‘You’ll have to shoot us where we sit. Of course, if you do, you run the risk of hitting the engine or puncturing the pontoon. How will you get back to your nasty associates then?’

  Freddy scowled and brought his weapon to bear on Joshi. The student flinched, and quickly scrambled out to stand on the floe. At the same time, one of Freddy’s companions did the same, ready to jump into the captured boat and prevent it from drifting away once it was empty.

  Berrister was next to alight, which he did deliberately clumsily, falling to his knees in the process. When he stood again, he held a fist-sized piece of hard ice concealed in each hand. Sarah remained sitting, and so did Drecki, shaking their heads stubbornly when Freddy made threatening gestures with his gun. Mortimer stood slowly, feeling the last vestiges of hope fade. The pinnacle had clearly tipped as far as it was going to go. There would be no rescue for them now.

  While all eyes were on Mortimer, Berrister hurled a piece of ice with all his might, aiming to send it smashing into Freddy’s gloating face. It sailed clean over the Australian’s head, but hit the man on the ice. The man staggered with the force of it, lost his balance and fell heavily against the ice behind him. His friend opened fire, even as Berrister moved to hurl his second missile, and Berrister felt a bullet pluck his jacket.

  ‘Stop!’ howled Freddy as his crony aimed at Mortimer and his finger tightened on the trigger. ‘You’ll puncture the boat.’

  But the man had had enough of Freddy’s orders. He pulled the trigger, and the gun rattled off a deadly spray of bullets.

  Garik’s bloodshot eyes took in the bodies and the open porthole. Zurin sat next to Yablokov and refused to move, while Romanov – the only senior officer still well enough to take command – was struggling to restore order on the bridge, although he was pale and stank of vomit. Pandemonium had erupted over the radio, with Orlando screeching orders and demanding to speak to Hasim.

  ‘He’ll blame us if the scientists escape,’ said one of the guards, a Colombian named Escobar. His face was white with fear.

  Garik regarded him blearily. Hasim’s team milled around like lost cattle, confused and waiting for someone to tell them what to do.

  ‘He should blame you,’ slurred Garik. ‘Because you did let them escape. Worse yet, you let them kill my first mate.’

  ‘No, we didn’t,’ argued Escobar. ‘Because it was Yablokov who said we could nip off for a fag. It was his own fault – he should’ve kept us around.’

  ‘Right,’ said Garik flatly.

  ‘We’d go to help the others catch them,’ Escobar went on. ‘But we can’t, because you don’t have any more boats.’

  ‘It wouldn’t matter if I did,’ said Garik, making up his mind suddenly. ‘Because I wouldn’t let you go regardless. We’re leaving.’

  Escobar blinked. ‘Leaving what?’

  Garik waved an unsteady hand. ‘Here. The Antarctic. All of it. We’re going home.’

  ‘But you can’t – not without Mr Orlando’s permission.’

  ‘Watch me,’ said Garik, folding his thick arms challengingly.

  Escobar was aghast. ‘No! Galtieri will hunt us down. You heard what happened to the Poles.’

  Garik grinned slyly. ‘I’ll tell Orlando that we’re low on fuel, and that if we don’t leave now, we won’t make it back home. He won’t want millions of dollars’ worth of whale meat floating unclaimed on the high seas.’

  ‘Now just a minute,’ said Escobar, agitated. ‘You’re not in charge here—’

  ‘I’m the captain,’ roared Garik, making him start back in alarm. ‘This is my ship, and I’ll damn well take it where I like.’

  ‘You’re drunk! You should be relieved of command.’

  Garik leaned towards him. ‘Want to try it? No? I thought not. Zurin, shut this man in the afterdeck hold, then do the same with the rest of his cronies.’

  Zurin clambered to his feet, heartened by this glimpse of the old Garik. Perhaps Yablokov was right, and Hasim had been doctoring the captain’s vodka with some mind-dulling drugs. The pair of them had emptied the lot down the sink earlier, in the hope of bringing Garik back to them. Maybe it had worked. Garik had Escobar by the scruff of his neck, and certainly looked more like himself.

  ‘Well?’ Garik demanded, when the helmsman made no further move to obey him. ‘What are you waiting for?’

  ‘Can’t do it,’ Zurin said. ‘They’ve got guns.’

  ‘None of which are loaded,’ said Garik with another sly grin. ‘I saw to it myself. Go – before they realise what’s happening.’

  ‘The hold?’ asked Zurin, to be sure, and speaking over Escobar’s wails of horror. ‘With the last of the cargo?’

  Garik nodded. ‘It’s the most secure place on the ship, and we don’t want them breaking out and making a nuisance of themselves on the journey home. It’ll be cold and uncomfortable, but they’ll be safe enough.’

  ‘Don’t bet on it,’ muttered Zurin savagely.

  Even as the gunman turned his weapon on him, Mortimer was yanking the starter cord on the engine. He knew he wouldn’t survive now, but he could do one thing before he died – make sure Freddy didn’t either. The motor roared into life, and he twisted the throttle, zipping around the floe and aiming directly at the Australian. Bullets flew from both Freddy and his friend, although their aim was wild and most went wide of their targets.

  Then the pinnacle began to topple at last, loosened partly by the man who had fallen into it. There was a sharp crack and down it came, burying him beneath it. Wrongly interpreting the sound as an attack from behind, Freddy and his crony whipped around and peppered the ice with gunfire. More of it fell, capsizing Freddy’s boat and sending both men flying. The second gunman disappeared into the churning water, and Freddy was sent sprawling across the floe.

  ‘Hold on!’ yelled Mortimer, as the sea around them turned into a treacherous maelstrom of waves. Drecki bounced once and was gone. With a cry, Sarah plunged her arm into the frigid water to grab him, but all she could feel was ice.

  Water also gushed across the floe. Berrister was swept along with it, but fetched up against a small ridge, which just stopped him from being washed over the edge. Dazed, he lay with one hand dangling into the sea.

  Freddy and Joshi were on a higher part of the floe, so only lost their footing. Both noticed something at the same time: Freddy’s gun, which lay between them. They lunged, and there followed a fierce tussle.

  Mortimer turned the boat and raced towards them, while Sarah scrambled into the bow, ready to leap off and go to J
oshi’s aid. The moment their boat touched the floe, she jumped onto it and began to run. Seeing her coming, Freddy resorted to desperate tactics: he head-butted Joshi, whose grip on the weapon loosened. With a yell of victory, Freddy ripped the gun away. Sarah stumbled to a standstill as Freddy pointed it at her, clenching her fists, and torn between anger and despair. They had been so close!

  Defeated, Joshi slumped to his knees, while Freddy retreated to the far edge of the floe, so he could cover them all at the same time with the gun. For a moment, everything was still. Mortimer was in the boat, its engine idling; Joshi and Sarah were in the middle of the floe; and Freddy and Berrister were at the edge, quite close to each other, but too far for Berrister to lunge at him without being shot first.

  Berrister’s hand still trailed in the water, and with a shock he felt something brush against it. He drew it up sharply, knowing exactly what had nuzzled at it. He rolled over, away from the edge, his mind working furiously on a final, desperate plan.

  ‘You can’t do it, can you, Freddy?’ taunted Sarah, regarding him in utter contempt. ‘You couldn’t kill us the night before Lena arrived, even though it would’ve been better for your employers, and you can’t do it now. You’re a filthy coward!’

  ‘Yeah?’ sneered Freddy furiously. ‘Well just watch me—’

  ‘Don’t worry, Sarah,’ interrupted Berrister. ‘He’ll be dead in a minute – his bit of the floe is too thin to hold him.’

  Sarah shot him a withering glance as Freddy immediately took several steps to his left, to a place where the floe was lower and smoother. Berrister held his breath. Would it work? Had Freddy moved far enough?

  ‘I killed Dan,’ the Australian was sneering at Sarah. ‘And I can kill you.’

  ‘Did you kill Dan?’ she asked scathingly. ‘Or did he die of exposure? You’re pathetic! You were planning to let your friends do it, weren’t you? Because you don’t have the guts.’