Air Pirates of Krakatoa

by Dave Robinson

  He threw up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I was only trying to let you know that I was willing to listen to your suggestions.”

  “That still doesn't make it funny.”

  “All right, can we start again?” Doc lowered his voice. “I would like to talk to you about what we're up against because I think you know a lot more about what's happening than I do.”

  She nodded, but didn't stop pacing. “I'll start with the questions. Why are you really here?”

  “Because no one would let me mind my own business.” He held up a hand, and started ticking off points on his fingers. “First somebody killed my cousin and tried to kill me. Then they attacked Vic, and dragged an innocent woman named Ming into the middle of things. Next, you or whoever was flying the wing tried to shoot us down on our way to Batavia. We couldn't get parts to repair the plane, and then we were kidnapped. At this point we have to do something about it before we all get killed.” He caught her eye with her own.

  “You were one of the people who dragged me into this, now you're going to have to accept that I'm here.”

  She stopped, turned to face him, and then sat down a few feet away. “Fair enough. Go ahead, ask me a question.”

  “What's really going on here?” Doc looked around the stone cell. “This seems a lot more elaborate than you need to pirate coffee freighters.” He shook his head.

  “Nobody needs a secret base inside a volcano or a five-hundred foot flying wing just to take over a few coffee plantations. You could probably buy out the entire consortium for less than all this cost.”

  “But I didn't have to pay for this.” Tigress shrugged. “I was given the base and the flying wing; not the money I would have needed to buy out the consortium.”

  “What's the point?”

  “Freedom.” Tigress pointed around the cell. “Even in here, I'm freer than I would be in Batavia.” She paused, and looked Doc in the eye. “The consortium was just my first target. I want the Dutch gone so none of my people have to bow to them.”

  “Then where did you get your resources?”

  “The Japanese; I think Van Houten has his own deal with them, too.” She shrugged. “It was handy having a contact on the ground who could feed me information about the Dutch fleet and the convoys.”

  “Now, things make more sense.” The pieces were coming together, especially with the Japanese. “It's about oil, not coffee.” Doc snapped his fingers. “Coffee was just a smokescreen. The Japanese need resources, especially oil, and they want the Dutch out so they can get control of it.”

  Tigress nodded. “Van Houten doesn’t know I know this, but he has replaced a lot of his coffee production with oil. I think he threw me in here so he could make his own deal with the Japanese.”

  “Exactly, Van Houten is probably more malleable than you are.”

  She smiled. “That would be one way to put it.” Getting to her feet, she reached down to help Doc to his. “A man with your reputation wouldn't have been sitting there just asking me background questions unless he already had a plan.”

  “You seem to know my reputation altogether too well,” Doc said.

  “I try.”

  “Well, I hate to disappoint you; but I’m still trying to figure things out. I do have an idea of how to get out of this cell though.”

  “I suppose that’s a start,” Tigress replied. “Once we’re out of this cell we can deal with Van Houten.”

  “Can I borrow some of your hair pins?” He smiled. “I'm pretty good at picking locks.”

  Tigress reached back and pulled out a pair of pins, they were sterling silver with jade heads; when he held them together the two characters on the ends spelled freedom. She glanced at them for a moment and then laid the pins gently in Doc's outstretched palm. “Will these do?”

  “They'll do fine.” He weighed them gently in his hand. “I may go quiet for a while after I pick the lock. I want to try and figure out how many guards are in the building.”

  He took the pins and knelt by the door. The lock was an older design, with heavy tumblers and the pins were the perfect size to manipulate them. A few moments later he heard an audible click.

  Putting his ear to the door, Doc closed his eyes and focused his attention on the space beyond. At first he couldn't hear much of anything, but as he slowed his heart and modulated his breathing he began to separate things out. First he isolated Tigress; she had her breathing under control but not so much her heartbeat. It was running a little fast, maybe fifteen beats above resting.

  Setting her aside in a corner of his mind, he directed his attention outward into the corridor beyond. Slowly he built up a picture from the sounds that filtered through the door. There was only one guard in the corridor outside, booted rather than barefoot, and he spent most of his time standing in front of a door at the far end. He kept shuffling his feet, so he was probably bored, or uncomfortable.

  Once he had the guard isolated, Doc drifted deeper into his trance. The building was mostly silent beyond the guard, and that made things difficult. He normally built up a picture from the interactions of all the sounds people and animals made, but this building was so quiet that he could hardly detect anything. Slow turning fans wafted air through empty halls, but apart from the guard, Doc and Tigress appeared to be the only ones in the building. It was over an hour before he felt comfortable that he'd learned whet he could.

  Stepping away from the door, he stretched and then turned back towards Tigress. “Only one guard in the corridor, sounds like he's bored, probably not one of the bullies Van Houten brought aboard though. There doesn't seem to be anyone else in the building.”

  Tigress held out her hand. “My pins.”

  Doc handed them over and she carefully put them back in her hair, and then straightened it out behind her shoulders. She flicked a strand back form her ear, and then took up her mask. Once it was in place, she smiled at Doc and extended her left arm for him. “Shall we?”

  Doc picked up the cup in his left hand, and then crooked his right, for her arm. “Of course.”

  He kicked the door open, they stepped through, and he threw the cup as hard as he could, directly at the guard's face. The man barely had time to react before the cup hit him between the eyes. Said eyes rolled back in the guard's head and he crumpled to the floor, his Arisaka rifle lying across his stomach.

  “You're the expert, where to now?” Doc whispered as he stripped the guard of everything that might be useful. The uniform might be useful, but Doc was at least a foot taller and over a hundred pounds heavier than the other man. What was more interesting was that the victim was obviously a soldier under orders, not just a hired guard.

  He tore strips off the man's uniform and quickly bound and gagged him. He set the man's rifle against the wall and looped his captive's ammunition belt over one shoulder. He checked twice, but there weren't any grenades although the rifle did have a bayonet affixed below the muzzle.

  Tigress had stood quietly behind him while he took care of their erstwhile captor, but the moment Doc stepped away, she spat in the man's face. “That's for betraying me.” She picked up the rifle and glared at him for a long moment before slinging it on her back.

  “I don't think he was the one who betrayed you,” Doc muttered after a few moments. “He was probably just following orders.”

  “That's what you men all say. He was only following orders.” Her glare was obvious even through the mask she was wearing. “People need to follow their consciences, they need the freedom to do what's right.”

  “So what are we going to do with our freedom now that we have it?”

  “Follow our consciences.” She smiled carnivorously. “Free our friends, starting with Ilsa.”

  Doc raised an eyebrow. “And who would Ilsa be?”

  “My best friend, my liger.”

  “Your liger is your best friend?”

  “Yes, she is after all, a tigress' daughter.”

  “So, where is she, and I thought you
had two ligers?”

  “She is probably in my quarters; I don't think there's a cage that would hold her anywhere else. I don't know what Van Houten did with her mate.” She looked down at the guard, who was now writhing furiously against his bonds, and then back to Doc.

  “Time to go?”

  Doc nodded and gestured for her to lead the way. Once out of the corridor, the building seemed almost empty, as they darted through the halls. Doc took the lead, remembering the way they had brought him in. The silence was eerie, with nothing but the sound of their footsteps to break it. Hair rose on the back of Doc's neck. It was too easy. If Van Houten had known as much about Doc as he said, why was there only one guard?

  After two flights of stairs they were on the ground floor; Doc turned to head to the main door, but Tigress tapped him on the shoulder. “There's another door over this way.”

  She took the lead, and drew him down a short hallway to the left. “This lets us out closer to my quarters.” The hall opened onto what looked like a classroom, with another door on the far side. Again, Tigress led the way through the room.

  Before they left the building, she took the bayonet from the rifle she was carrying and cut two slits up the side of her dress, revealing more of her legs than Doc was entirely comfortable with seeing. “There, that's better.”

  He raised an eyebrow, and glanced meaningfully at the bayonet. She followed his gaze, reversed the blade and slapped the handle into his outstretched hand.

  Once they were outside the building, they stopped to take a look around. They were in a short alley that backed up against the inside of the caldera, about half as deep as the building. The water was close, less than a hundred feet away, lapping peacefully against the docks.

  That water was the only thing that was peaceful, though. While he'd been in the cell, the guards and soldiers had piled up crates of explosives around fuel barrels, and were laying fuses between them. Half of each group was working while the other half kept an eye on their allies. They seemed uneasy with each other; one of the guards kept his hand on his pistol the whole time.

  The soldiers were no better; the officer didn't have a pistol, but the way he was holding his samurai sword made it clear that he would be happy to shorten a guard or two by a head.

  Tigress poked him in the shoulder. “My quarters are over there.”

  Doc gave her a thumbs up and headed off in the indicated direction. The next building didn't protrude as far from the wall as the one they had been held in, so Doc felt exposed as they moved along the front. There were a few handcarts, so they crouched and darted from one to another, trying to keep something between themselves and the guards.

  Rather than the plain facades of the others, this building had a frieze carved across the front and sides, showing a tigress doing battle with a lion. The tigress had a distinctly Asian look, while the lion bore an even stronger resemblance to the one on the Dutch coat of arms.

  They only had about fifty feet to cross but there was absolutely no cover. None of the guards were looking in their direction, but the nearest pile was already fused and ready to light.

  Doc turned to Tigress. Despite the situation, she had kept her mask firmly in place. Her dress had picked up a couple more rips extending upward from where she had cut it “You go first, and I'll follow,” he said.

  She nodded, and then tossed him the rifle. “That way you can cover me.”

  Doc worked the bolt, chambering a round. The nearest guard was about fifty yards away, staring at a small group of Japanese soldiers. Doc kept the muzzle aimed down, not wanting to point it directly towards the man. He waited a minute or so, then waved Tigress forwards.

  She took his signal and ran for the doorway. Doc heard three quick steps as she got up to speed, and then two more longer steps before the guard swung his own rifle up and started yelling.

  The guard was fast, but Doc was faster. He had his own rifle to his shoulder before the guard's was level with his chest. A khaki shirt filled his sight picture and he squeezed gently, stroking the trigger backwards. The shirt turned red as the shot echoed in his ears.

  Doc was on his feet before the guard had hit the ground, and he had almost caught up to Tigress before another shot rang out. More voices yelled out, and then a fusillade of shots. They reached the door together just as the first explosion slammed them into the wood. The door held them up as the shockwave drove the air from Doc's lungs.

  He was the first to recover and took a second to recover his breath. Glancing over his shoulder he saw the early stages of an inferno. The Japanese soldiers had formed ranks and were pouring disciplined fire into the guards who were charging wildly. Men were burning and screaming as explosions spread flaming oil across the docks.

  Dropping the rifle, Doc rattled the door handle. It wasn't locked. He pulled the door open and shoved Tigress through. Doc kicked the rifle through the open doorway, and followed as quickly as he could. Once inside, he leaned back against the door, slamming it shut and took a deep breath. Now to find Ilsa.

  Tigress gasped, and took a step back, open-mouthed. Doc turned to see what she was looking at and a paw the size of his head caught him just behind the ear and sent him flying to the floor. He heard a roar and looked up to see the open mouth of an enraged liger coming down at his face.

  #

  “Sink it?” Ming's eyes went wide. She looked around the hold where the two women were suspended in a cargo net a dozen feet above the deck.

  “Hold's full of rocks, they certainly don't intend to sell the cargo.” Vic shrugged. “It's a great way to get rid of us if they were going to sink the ship anyway.”

  “That bastard!” Ming's eyes lit up; she clenched her fist looking like she was getting ready to punch anyone she could find, even though Vic was the only one in the hold with her. “I'll get him for that. I'll take out his spleen without anesthesia! Through his nostrils!”

  “All right, all right.” Vic hugged the smaller woman who was practically vibrating in her arms. “We have to get out of this hold first.”

  “Fine,” Ming said, before returning to her own thoughts. “I left Batavia so I wouldn’t have to marry that bastard, and I said the same thing when he came to New York.”

  “When he came to New York?” That caught Vic's attention. Feng worked for Van Houten.

  “He visited me about a week before you and I met.” Ming frowned. “It was odd, he was dressed like a waiter and he always said he’d never get a job like that. It was too menial for him.”

  “Like a waiter?”

  Ming nodded. “He was dressed like he worked in one of those fancy clubs. I've treated enough of them to know. I told him I'd rather marry a dog than him; he called me a bitch and walked out. Next time I saw him he was holding a gun on me.”

  The image came together in Vic's head as she put the face and voice together. Feng in a Republic State Club waiter's uniform, smiling, bowing, serving the soup. He'd kept his head down, but now that she thought of it, it was definitely him. She hugged Ming tighter. “I love you!”

  “I love you, too; but what's the connection with Feng holding a gun on me?” Ming leaned in against Vic, wrinkling her nose.

  “He's the connection; Feng connects Van Houten to Basingstoke's death.” Vic grinned. “Now we have something to tell Doc.”

  “To tell Doc? So it's all about Doc again is it?” Ming's face hardened for a moment, but her expression broke and she smiled. “I almost had you there, didn't I?”

  Vic sighed. “Almost.”

  “So what now?”

  “Now, we get out of this hold.” Vic wasn't sure how long they'd been on the ship, but from the sound of the engine it was pulling at least ten or twelve knots, so it was well past time they got off the net. “How well can you move?”

  “I'll manage.” Ming tried to shrug, but she winced the moment she moved her left arm. “I'll need some help getting down though.”

  “I can do that.” Vic grabbed the axe she had found earlier and
started moving toward the edge of the net, aiming for the ladder she had used to climb back up. The scrambling was much easier now that she had her hands free. Looking over her shoulder, she was glad to see that Ming was keeping up pretty well even though she could only use one hand.

  Once Ming caught up, she lay down on the net, breathing hard. “So, how do we do this?” she asked between breaths. “That's a long way down.”

  Vic pointed. “See that ladder?” It was just a few feet away, running all the way from the deck to the top of the hold. “I figure I can help you sit up to get on the ladder, and then you can work your way down slowly.”

  Ming exhaled slowly. “I should be able to do that.”

  “Once you're on the ladder I'll go over the edge, so I can catch you from below.”

  Ming's balance wasn't good, and her face went pale when she sat all the way up, but after a few moments they were able to get her onto the ladder, though she still looked pretty weak.

  Vic slipped down the net to where it was closer to the deck, then quickly rolled over. It was easier this time, she came down facing into the hold and rolled to absorb the impact. The sound of her boots hitting the deck echoed, but she had to hope for the same luck she'd had earlier.

  Once she had her feet under her, she moved over to where Ming still stood on the ladder and called her down.

  It was slow going for the younger woman, she had to try to hold herself in place with her bad arm to move the other, but she was making progress. All Vic could do was stand underneath, ready to catch her, and hope Ming didn't fall too far. Even in her ripped and bloody clothes, Ming was still the best thing Vic had ever seen. She'd reached a point about six feet up, when her arms finally gave out.

  Ming had let go with her good hand, and was trying to move it down for a new grip, when the ship hit some swells. Vic was able to keep her balance, but Ming was not so lucky. She fell backwards right on top of Vic, driving the breath out of her as they both fell to the deck.

  Vic was able to keep both their heads from hitting the steel, but not without almost knocking herself out. She lay there for a few moments, fighting to breathe. Ming tried to get off her chest, but Vic wouldn't let go. It wasn't until her head stopped spinning and she could feel the pain in her backside that she realized how tightly she was holding Ming.