Raine spotted the first diver’s spear gun lying on the sea bed. She snatched it up and fired. The spear shot forward ripping through the preacher’s dive suit, splitting flesh and opening a gash along his thigh.
Dandridge writhed in pain, but kept moving through the water.
Without hesitating, Mitch grabbed up another bangstick and went after him.
Raine located the second diver’s spear gun and followed.
Try as they might, Mitch and Raine didn’t seem to be gaining any ground on Dandridge. But with his leg bleeding badly, coupled with the blood from the other two divers, it wasn’t difficult to follow his blood trail.
But they weren’t the only ones interested in the injured man. Raine tugged on Mitch’s leg, impeding his progress. She motioned to the left and pointed at the large, dark shadow overtaking them. They stopped swimming and hung back, watching as the hungry great white opened its mouth for the attack. With lightning speed, the shark tore Dandridge in half as it chomped down on its prey.
Mitch grabbed Raine and held her close, trying not to make any sudden moves as the predator circled within feet of them, an arm still dangling from its jaws.
Rattled, Mitch and Raine waited to make sure the shark had moved off before heading back to the dive spot.
Once they arrived back inside the sub, they noticed the strong current had already carried the divers’ bodies several yards away from the wreck. But with sharks in the area, there were no guarantees the great white wouldn’t be back looking for another meal. Whatever plan they came up with, it needed to be quick.
Mitch used his dive board and grease pen to write the words, “I love you. Are you okay?”
For an answer, Raine nodded and wrapped her arms around his waist.
Next, Mitch wrote the words “Patagonia Pike” followed by a question mark.
Raine took the board from him, writing only one word. “Mines.”
Mitch bobbed his head in agreement.
Back on board the The Black Rum Baskin and Sandoval were getting a little nervous.
Sandoval paced the length of the command center, unable to stay still. Waving his automatic weapon around at the hostages, ranting to himself in Spanish, he finally blurted out, “Why don’t we just go ahead and kill them all now?”
Baskin gave him a hard look. “Sinclair wants them alive for now.”
Sandoval sneered back, “But I follow Duarte’s orders, not your man Sinclair.”
Baskin got to his feet. “You’ll follow who I tell you to follow. I’m in charge here. Got that?”
Sandoval narrowed his eyes. “In case it’s slipped your mind, the Patagonia Pike belongs to Duarte. He’s the man in charge. He’s also my captain, not you.” He checked the time on his watch. “And he should be rolling in at any moment now. Perhaps you’d like to tell him to his face how you won’t take orders from him.” With that statement, Sandoval sent Baskin a disgusted look and strode to the opposite side of the room. But all the while his finger remained on the trigger of his rifle.
Walsh had gone below deck to the engine room to check on a generator that had been acting up. Since dropping anchor, it was the perfect time to fix what ailed it. He’d been tinkering with one of the circuit boards when he’d heard voices coming from the command center, voices he didn’t recognize.
He’d come up on deck in time to catch the boarding party taking over the ship. With recon in mind and carrying his sidearm, a silver-polished Beretta, he’d snuck around to the aft position and bumped headlong into Sebastian, who was doing the same.
“What the hell’s going on?” Sebastian asked. “I go to the head and all hell breaks loose.”
“Yeah, well, I was in the engine room bent over a faulty motherboard. Where’s Prentiss? He was supposed to be standing guard.”
“They knocked him out, tied him up.”
“Damn it. I don’t like getting caught with my pants down.”
“That would be me,” Sebastian corrected. “I’m pissed off about it, too.”
“Serves me right for not putting more men on watch.”
“We were running on a high. Besides, what’s done is done. So far I’ve counted six. Baskin’s in charge. He’s taken over the control room. And he just sent Dandridge and two other men I didn’t recognize down to the dive site.”
“So Mitch and Raine are in trouble, too? Do you have your sidearm with you?”
“Yeah. With three gone, we should be able to overpower the other three. But what do we do about Mitch and Raine?”
“I have faith in Mitch. I’ve seen him get out of tighter spots than this. Right now the priority is freeing up the ones trapped in the command center with that psychopath. That means we need to get our hands on the rocket launcher before they do.”
“There’s a rocket launcher?”
Walsh winked. “You should know by now, Mitch plays to win.”
Chapter Thirty-Two - Justice
Over the dive com Mitch and Raine heard Sandoval announce the Patagonia Pike was approaching from the south on the starboard side of The Rum. ETA thirty minutes.
Mitch swam over to the bow where the torpedo mines were entangled to get a better look. He needed to determine how best to utilize the devices to their advantage. He’d have to figure out a way to cut at least one loose from the anchor chains.
He headed back to where Raine waited, pointed to his dive watch and then to his air tank, indicating it was time to switch out to a reserve.
After getting that done, they began to unload the sled, stacking the extra air tanks they’d brought and all the supplies next to the conning tower.
Grabbing the cutting torch and tool bag, Mitch dumped both onto the sled before moving it along in a straight shot forward along with the scooters. The idea was to use the torch to cut through the anchor chains and then slide the mine onto the sled for mobility.
The torch made fast work of the corroded metal. Raine tried to keep the torpedo mine steady as Mitch worked to get it free. Once he’d cut through the last link of the chain, he and Raine held their breath hoping the damn thing wouldn’t explode. They were stunned to see the mine start to float upward, surprised it still had that kind of buoyancy left in it after all these years.
When it didn’t sink like a rock and it didn’t blow them out of the water, they bumped happy fists together like they’d just won the lottery.
Gingerly they wrapped nylon rope around the torpedo-shaped mine to secure it to the sled. Mitch hoped the scooters could handle the weight. He slowly worked the throttle to determine the slowest speed, because moving too fast might create a strong vibration that could set the mine off without warning.
Thanks to Sandoval they kept getting updates through the dive com and soon learned the approximate position of the Pike.
Raine pointed the scooters on the straightest course she could toward Duarte’s ship while Mitch kept a watchful eye on the sled. Foot by slow foot they eventually maneuvered the mine in position as close as they could get under the ship.
Mitch picked up his board, wrote the words, “Swim toward The Black Rum as fast as you can. I’ll stay put and arm the mine.”
Raine ripped the board out of his hand, taking the pen and scrawling her own message. “I’m not going anywhere without you!!! Period!!!”
He shook his head and motioned for her to get moving.
“No time to argue,” she wrote, shaking her head. To prove her point, she started untying the rope herself from around the mine.
Mitch finally gave in, and turned his attention back to arming the device.
Raine took hold of his hand. Together they watched the mine start to float toward the surface and the hull of the Patagonia Pike.
At that moment, they were prepared to die together. But instead of exploding when it made contact, the mine simply bounced off the hull of the ship like an inflatable toy, continuing to drift along the side and occasionally bump up against the target.
Mitch and Raine traded disbelieving
looks. Without another word they grabbed up the spear guns and took off for The Black Rum.
On board, Walsh and Sebastian had worked their way to where the AT4 launcher had been stored in a locker in the supply room.
Walsh pulled out the key from his pocket as Sebastian kept watch in the hallway. He reached in, grabbed the weapon, making sure it had a live anti-armor round in it. Handing it off to Sebastian, he picked up the Thumper grenade launcher and an ammo pouch and slung both over his shoulder. On instinct, he snatched up his baby, an MK 12 SPR rifle and an extra twenty rounds.
Sebastian took one look at Walsh’s personal arsenal and uttered, “Seals or Rangers?”
“Seals.” Walsh led the way down the hall and then up toward the bridge, hoping to surprise whoever was there, dispose of them, and gain the high ground. As soon as they reached their objective, he pivoted toward Sebastian. “Have you ever fired an AT4?”
Sebastian shook his head.
“Rest it on your right shoulder, aim it at the middle of that ship and pull the trigger.” But as Walsh pointed to where he wanted Sebastian to place the rocket, he noticed a black object floating next to the Patagonia Pike. He spotted two heads pop up out of the water for a few seconds before disappearing under the waves. He pointed to the trail of air bubbles. “I knew Mitch and Raine could take care of themselves.”
Walsh used the scope of his rifle to zero in on the black object floating next to the hull. “Mine. We have to wait until Mitch and Raine are out of the water because the underwater shockwave from the mine explosion could kill them.”
Both men retraced their steps, trying to come out where they thought Mitch and Raine might try to board the boat.
Sebastian scanned the water, looking for air bubbles while Walsh took off to do a second recon to see where Baskin was holding the others. They also needed to locate Sandoval and the other guard.
Just below The Black Rum Mitch and Raine treaded water near the surface, hoping no one had spotted them yet.
Mitch knew they’d been under water too long and that if they made it out alive both of them would have to spend a considerable amount of time in the decompression chamber. But he’d would worry about that later. For now, they first had to take back his ship—with two spear guns and a knife.
He took a deep breath before dropping his air tank and surfaced next to the boarding ladder. Raine followed his lead and did the same.
Mitch latched on to the first rung of the ladder, pulled himself out of the water, trying not to make too much noise. Gripping the ladder, he reached back for Raine’s hand to help her up.
When he looked up again, he almost slipped and fell. He spotted someone looking down at them. Recognizing Sebastian’s face, Mitch croaked out in a whisper, “You scared the crap out of me.”
Sebastian flashed a grin and reached a hand out to pull him up and over the railing. He did the same with Raine. “Walsh is doing a little recon. He should be back soon.”
Mitch’s face was full of questions. “I thought you guys were taken hostage.”
“Not yet. I was in the can and Walsh was in the engine room when they boarded us. We were about to blow the Patagonia Pike out of the water when Walsh spotted you guys and the little gift you left for Duarte.”
Mitch jumped when Walsh appeared out of nowhere and laid a hand on his shoulder. Walsh gave him a once-over like a mother hen. “You look a little ragged, but the question is, are you ready to kick some ass?”
For the first time in hours, Mitch felt like the odds were shifting in their favor. “What’s the plan?”
“In exactly ten minutes Sebastian is gonna fire that AT4 directly at that mine you left and blow Duarte and his ship out of the water.”
“Major distraction,” Mitch muttered. “Good call.”
“When that happens, you and Raine take out the guard who’s stationed near the command center. Get everyone free and then arm them with these.” Walsh dropped a duffle bag full of guns at Mitch’s feet. “I’ll take out Sandoval on the starboard side.”
“What about Baskin?” Raine asked. “He’s in the command center.”
Walsh shook his head. “Negative on that. Been all over this boat twice and couldn’t find that piece of shit anywhere. He’s not with Sandoval or the hostages, so keep your guard up. Who knows where he’ll pop up once the Patagonia Pike goes up like a rocket on the Fourth of July.”
The four moved into position.
Crouched behind a row of supply barrels, Mitch and Raine were counting down the minutes. They heard the swoosh of the rocket race toward its target. But it hadn’t been ten minutes yet. Something had gone wrong.
Mitch stood up, still a little woozy from being in the water so long, and came almost face to face with the guard. Without thinking, he used the spear gun to launch the arrow straight into the man’s heart before the guard had time to call out in warning.
The man’s gun hit the deck with a thud followed by his body. The swoosh had barely faded from the air when Mitch and Raine were knocked off their feet by the jolt from the explosion. The first detonation was followed by several smaller ones that finished ripping the Patagonia Pike in half.
Mitch’s ears were still ringing as he slowly got to his feet. He bent down to help Raine up just before he was bowled over by Baskin. The force sent him into Raine. They skidded across the deck.
Mitch tried to clear his vision. He saw Baskin standing over him, wearing a smug grin on his face. From there, things seemed to play out in slow motion as Baskin raised his rifle to fire.
But Mitch felt something tug at his leg where he kept his knife. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Raine’s arm going back and then moving forward as she released the dive knife toward Baskin’s chest. It sailed through the air, end over end, until it found flesh.
Baskin staggered backward, the bullets from his automatic weapon racing toward the sky.
Despite the knife protruding from his chest, Baskin was still on his feet, trying desperately to reach it and pull it out.
With all the force he could muster, Mitch launched himself at Baskin, knocking him to the deck. He drove the knife deeper into the wound until he could feel the man go limp. Only then did he let go and try to stand up.
Raine bowled him over with a hard embrace. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
Mitch shook his head as his arms went around Raine. He looked over to see Walsh opening the door to the command center and everyone in there rushing out on deck.
Walsh sidled up to Raine and put a hand on her shoulder. “You got some great knife skills there, Blondie.” He turned to Mitch. “Your little lady here just saved your ass. Big time.”
Mitch glanced down at Raine and then back at Walsh. “That’s because she’s some woman. Where’d you learn to do that?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“I really do.”
Blushing a little, Raine hesitated. “Well, I’m a little embarrassed. But if you really want to know, I practiced a lot in the kitchen at The Blue Taco.”
She framed his face in her hands before going on, “After you left I put your picture up on the wall like a dart board. Whenever business was slow, I’d throw sharp knives at your face. I got so good at it, the skill came in handy when I entered dart tournaments at the local bars. Several even barred me from entering because I’d win all the time. But hey, before I got banned, you won me a lot of free drinks, if that makes you feel any better.”
Walsh hooted with laughter and slapped Mitch on the back. “This one’s a keeper, a woman after my own heart. You better treat her right.”
Mitch gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Hopefully you used the picture of me after my face cleared up.”
She patted his chest. “Trust me, with all the holes in it, you couldn’t really tell.”
By this time Garret and Jackson were surveying the debris field from the Patagonia Pike. Out of the cloud of smoke, Jackson spotted a large rubber raft headed their way. He estimated the bo
at carried maybe eight to ten armed men. Sinclair sat up front, firing an M16 at them.
“We have trouble heading our way,” Jackson shouted.
Walsh calmly walked to the railing. He slung his Thumper around to firing position, cracked it open like a shotgun, and reached into his ammo pouch. He loaded the shell and put the weapon up to his shoulder, pulled the trigger.
Swoosh! The shell left the Thumper arching toward its target. A few seconds later they heard an explosion. Water shot up like a volcanic eruption, knocking Sinclair off his feet.
Unfazed, Walsh reached for another shell, just like he might reach for another beer at the end of a long day. “You know this was my dad’s gun in Viet Nam. He liked it so much he smuggled it home when he mustered out.” As if having a conversation with his buddies in a bar, he chatted in a casual tone that left the others staring in awe.
He fired another shot, that veered to the left as the boat made a turn at the last minute. “My dad tried hunting ducks with it, but all he ever killed was a lot of frogs and fish.”
Jackson walked over to where Walsh was reloading again. “Mind if I take a turn? The Indigos have a score to settle with Sinclair.”
Walsh handed him the Thumper. “In case you haven’t noticed, the sights are a little off.”
Jackson locked the Thumper into his shoulder, sighted it in, and pulled the trigger. The recoil caused him to take a small step back. The projectile whistled toward its target.
Jackson watched as his shot landed squarely in the middle of the boat, dead center. The impact lifted Sinclair and his men upward, throwing them outward, hitting the water.
Everyone stood at the railing scanning for any signs of movement from the bodies in the waves. For several long minutes, Walsh scoped each body but saw nothing move.
Finally, Walsh slapped Jackson on the back. “Nice shot, but it was pure luck.”
The Indigo Brothers Trilogy Boxed Set Page 95