The Sam Reilly Collection Volume 2

by Christopher Cartwright

  Sam knew it. Tom was certain of that. Sam carefully vetted everyone in his team aboard the Maria Helena. He only accepted the brightest and best in any field and was willing to pay big dollars to ensure that’s all he received. Elise was probably the world’s best data miner and Sam would have used her talents to discover the truth about Genevieve’s past. Whatever it was, Sam must have approved, because he’d kept her aboard. When Tom had asked if she was single, Sam had laughed and told him that of all the people aboard, she was the only one he was certain wasn’t interested in a relationship.

  Sam had brought her on board two years ago after she’d answered an advert for a quality chef, who was willing to live at sea and anywhere around the world, and would have an acceptance to participate in other duties whilst on board. Everyone quickly learned that not only was she a three hatted gourmet chef, she excelled at every new skill she learned. They also noticed she had a unique repertoire of skills not officially listed on her resume, such as martial arts, hand to hand combat and weapons training – suggesting a history in the military. But for which country, was anyone’s guess.

  Tom sighed. He shouldn’t push his luck. “What’s your story anyway, Genevieve? I know you weren’t always a brilliant chef.”

  “No, I’ve always been a brilliant chef. Cooking came naturally to me ever since I was a little girl.” She smiled at him – there was uncertainty in it, as though she was deciding if she was ready to tell her story.

  He should have left it alone. But they were adrift in the Atlantic in the dead of night. They had no way of knowing if the Maria Helena had survived, and if she hadn’t it would mean that no one would come for them in the morning. So Tom persisted. “What else came easy to you?”

  She looked at him. Tom wondered if he spotted the slightest of tears – it could have easily been seawater. “Killing people.”

  It was the sort of thing people said as a joke. Only she wasn’t kidding.

  “Who did you kill?”

  “There were a lot of people. But I remember every single one of them. I worked for a man who’d survived the Gulag in Russia. You know the death camps?”

  Tom nodded his head. He’d read a book about it years ago.

  Genevieve continued. “He adopted me when I was very young. Taught me things. Worked with my natural talent and I began killing people. I’m out now, but it’s a past that’s best hidden.”

  Genevieve then turned her head and kissed him. It was tentative at first. Then as his lips parted, it became more passionate. They were responding to each other’s desires hungrily, until she suddenly pulled away and stared at him. “You really do have nice hazel eyes.”

  “What was that for?” Tom asked. A large grin formed across his face like a teenager who just got to first base with his prom partner.

  “Because you saved my life earlier.” She smiled seductively. “And because I’ve always wanted to. Oh, and by the way. If you tell anyone, I’ll have to kill you.”

  On the horizon a new light glowed.

  Tom moved back from Genevieve, and prepared to dive again. The light could have been another rogue wave. Then he heard the familiar sound of the Sea King’s rotor blades whirling. It hovered directly above them.

  Veyron opened the side door and leaned out. The noise was horrendous, but through it they could just make out Veyron’s words. “You kids want a lift somewhere?”

  Chapter Fifty Seven

  Sam looked to the left side of the helicopter where Tom climbed the steel ladder. He looked wet, tired, and relieved. There was something else he spotted about him, but couldn’t quite be certain – did he look embarrassed? Behind him, Genevieve slumped into the seat. Her short dark brown hair, normally tied back tidily, was tussled. Her large breasts, slim figure, and athletic frame, cut a striking image through her skin-tight neoprene diving suit.

  “Sam Reilly, what are you staring at all dumb? Haven’t you seen a beautiful woman before?” Genevieve said.

  Sam turned his head as he laughed. Then he waited for Veyron to close the door, before he gained some altitude. “I’m just glad you two are okay.”

  “We’re fine, but what about the Maria Helena and the rest of them?” Tom asked.

  “They’re okay. I’m not sure how they did it, but the rogue wave seems to have missed them completely.”

  Veyron noted the marker beacon of the Maria Helena on the GPS. Sam nodded his head and followed the directional marker. It took them due south.

  And then the radio began to make noise. The person’s voice at the other end was hidden by the strong static. Veyron adjusted the radio and then waited for whoever was on the other side to transmit again.

  “Mayday, Mayday. This is the Mississippi. We’re a super tanker carrying two million barrels of crude oil. We’ve been damaged by a rogue wave, and we’re sinking. Please, if anyone can hear us, we need immediate assistance.”

  “Mississippi. This is Sea King Mikey. Charlie. Charlie. One. Five. We’ll render every assistance possible. Please confirm your location.”

  “Twenty-five miles east of north Bimini Island.” He then read out their precise GPS coordinates.

  Sam didn’t have to look at a map. It was the exact same location of the other recent attacks. “Copy that Mississippi. How many lives are aboard?”

  “Five crew and two civilians.”

  “Mississippi we’re heading to your location to render assistance. What is the state of your oil compartments?”

  “One is compromised and a deck fire has started. The rest are currently secure.”

  Sam looked at Veyron who typed the coordinates into the GPS and then plotted their distance. “We can be there in twelve minutes.”

  “What about our fuel?” Sam asked.

  “We should be all right to pick up the passengers and then return to the Maria Helena. We’d better get the Maria Helena moving toward the stricken vessel, so that we can shorten our flight time on the return trip.”

  Sam depressed the radio button. “Mississippi, we will be overhead at your location in twelve minutes.”

  “Thank you.”

  Sam then flicked the VHF to channel 45, where the Maria Helena had maintained an open communications channel with him. “Maria Helena.”

  “Go ahead Sam?” It was Matthew who answered the call.

  “We’re heading to 25 miles southwest of Bimini Island to render assistance to the Mississipi, a supertanker carrying two million barrels of crude oil. We’re going to be running pretty short on fuel by the time we rescue her crew and passengers. Can you please head in that direction?”

  “Copy that, we’re on our way.”

  “Mississippi, this is Sam Reilly, Special Projects Director of the vessel Maria Helena. I have the Maria Helena heading in your direction to take you under tow. Are you in authority to agree to Lloyds Open Form?”

  Silence.

  “Mississippi. Do you accept Lloyds Open Form?”

  More silence.

  “Mississippi, do you read?”

  “Rescue ship. The fire is spreading to the bridge. Please hurry.”

  Sam shook his head.

  “What do you want to do?” Tom asked.

  Sam banked the helicopter to the left. “Do you mean – am I still going to offer my services?”

  Genevieve leaned forward in the helicopter. “Are you?”

  “What?” Sam shrugged his shoulders. “Do you have any idea what the overheads are to run the Maria Helena? Many of the anti-looting acts prohibit us from making much more than a fraction of the value of any treasure we discover.”

  Genevieve looked at him with horror. “What were you going to do if he’d said no?”

  Sam grinned. “Tom, please inform Genevieve the first rule of the sea.”

  “Render assistance to any person found at sea in danger of being lost.”

  Chapter Fifty Eight

  Sam circled the Sea Knight as he saw the stricken oil tanker up ahead. Its forward oil compartment had split and oil was
already spilling into the ocean. The oil had caught alight on the deck and the flames radiated with such strength that it might as well have been daylight outside.

  “Sea King. We’re on the aft bridge. Please hurry, it’s going to get hot here pretty quick.”

  Sam looked at the raised bridge nearly five stories high. On its roof were seven people waving their arms frantically. “Understood Mississippi.” He then turned to his other passengers. “Change of plans Tom. Get the life raft ready. I’m going to have to drop you all in the sea. There’s no way they will survive for me to make a second trip for the remaining passengers.”

  “Got it.” Tom maneuvered the heavy inflatable life raft to the side of the helicopter. He then opened the side door.

  Sam banked to the right and flew five hundred feet away from the stricken supertanker. Tom threw the life raft out the side door. It hit the water, instantly breaking its soda canister, causing the compressed air to inflate it in seconds.

  “All right. Everyone out.”

  Sam watched as each of them quickly dropped out of the helicopter. Tom was the last to jump. He looked back at him. “Have you got a portable radio to contact the Maria Helena?”

  “I’ve got it. You go.”

  “See you soon.” The second he watched Tom disappear, Sam raised the collective, sending the helicopter back into the air.

  Within forty seconds he made his approach towards the bridge of the Mississippi. The heat over the burning oil created an artificial updraft. Sam fought with the controls as he tried to bring it towards the aft section of the supertanker. The flames were well forward of the massive ship, but he knew they wouldn’t be for long. With that amount of oil, it had the potential to combust with life ending consequences.

  He took the helicopter down to a hover just above the raised bridge. Tom had left both side doors open, allowing for immediate loading. “Get in!”

  Sam kept his left hand on the helicopter’s collective – a device used to change the angle of the main rotor blade, thus increasing or decreasing lift. As the people piled inside, he carefully raised it – thus increasing his lift and compensating for the additional weight.

  He turned his head slightly to the left so that he could calculate the average weight of each person who clambered aboard. There were six men and one woman. The last person to climb in Sam predicted to be the ship’s captain. The man had a trim white beard to match the rest of his hair, and dark hazel eyes. He looked like every other shipping captain Sam had ever met – but it was his eyes that told Sam the man was in charge. He looked broken. He’d just lost the company a fortune, and as a consequence would never be entrusted with the command of such a ship again.

  Sam’s predictions were immediately proved right.

  “I’m John Bates. Captain and last one off the ship.”

  Sam pulled back heavily on his collective, simultaneously rotating his left hand to increase the throttle. He wanted every last piece of power to get him away from the forsaken vessel. He then swung the joystick to the right and the Sea King banked away from the Mississippi. Sam turned to the side and acknowledged the man. “Pleased to meet you, Captain Bates.”

  “I assure you, I’m much more pleased to meet you, Mr. Reilly.”

  Sam smiled. His reputation was prolific in the world of shipping, and the man had recognized him instantly. “Is everyone all right?”

  “Yes, but we have the remainder of nearly two million barrels of crude oil still pouring into the ocean. Not only is the loss going to hit the company hard, but you and I both know just how much damage that amount of oil will do to the ecosystem in the area.”

  Sam looked at the sea below. The oil had already spread along the surface for nearly a quarter mile. It would be the worst oil disaster to hit the U.S. coast since the Deepwater Horizon disaster in the Gulf of Mexico. He said nothing. There wasn’t anything more that he could do about it.

  “Given the circumstance, Mr. Reilly – I’m pretty certain the company would be willing to accept Lloyds Open Form.”

  Sam watched as a new flame caught the massive oil slick, sending fire skipping along the surface like a fiendish imp from hell. The top deck then exploded. Flames engulfed the rest of the decking. “That’s very big of them, but I’m afraid I really can’t see anything we can do about it now. I thought all these modern oil tankers were required to have in built redundancy systems designed to protect the oil from spilling during a collision?”

  “You’re right, they are. We have a state of the art, FOAM system. It sprays a mixture of fire retardant foam and also causes a chemical reaction which makes the oil solidify into a naturally fire retardant barrier.”

  Sam looked at the massive oil spill, now well alight surrounding the Mississippi oil tanker. “It doesn’t look like it worked.”

  “Shortly after our initial collision with the rogue wave and while we were in the process of damage control, there was an explosion mid-ship. It must have severed the internal wiring. Otherwise our FOAM device would have gone off, and we wouldn’t have this disaster!”

  “Is there any other way to trigger it?”

  “Yes. There’s a manual option located at multiple workstations throughout the ship. If you could reach the closest one to the hole in the ship, you could effectively shut down the entire leak. Not that it matters now.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it would be impossible to reach.”

  Sam’s blue eyes sparkled with infinite possibilities. “How impossible?”

  “Well, given that the entire top deck is now alight there’s no way to reach the safety valves. That is, unless you feel like swimming beneath the surface flame for about half a mile until you reach the hole in the hull.”

  “I don’t know about a feeling like it. But, I wouldn’t call it impossible. How many barrels of crude oil did you say she’s carrying?”

  “Two million barrels.”

  Sam smiled. “That’s a lot of oil if I can save it.”

  The man shook his head. “That’s a lot of crazy even contemplating returning to the ship.”

  But the man didn’t realize just how lucky some crazy people were.

  Chapter Fifty Nine

  Sam landed on the helipad situated on the aft deck of the Maria Helena. Tom met him as the rotor blades began their tedious process of winding down. Genevieve was standing next to him. Closer than Sam expected. Not like they were an item, but as though, for him, she’d removed the safety barrier of personal space that she normally maintained. Matthew must have fetched them out of the water minutes after he left them there.

  Tom shook his right hand as he climbed down from the cockpit. “Did you get everyone off?”

  “Yeah. We got lucky,” Sam replied.

  “You always do.”

  Sam started walking towards the dive room. Veyron approached him. “Come with me. We have work to do. You too, Tom.”

  Tom followed.

  “Veyron – what do you know about fixed deck foam systems and oil solidifiers?”

  “Under SOLAS, I know that all oil tankers are required to have automated fixed deck foam systems in place.” Veyron looked at the burning deck of the Mississippi in the distance. “This one appears not to be fitted with one.”

  “The captain assures me it is fitted with one, though. Says the control lines were severed during the initial collision. Do you think he’s lying?”

  “It’s possible, but highly bad luck. I’d say being the fourth cargo ship in as many weeks to be destroyed by a “one in three trillion” odds rogue wave already says something about this captain’s luck.”

  Genevieve handed Sam a cold glass of water. Then whispered to Tom, “What’s SOLAS?”

  “It’s the convention governing the Safety of Life at Sea,” Sam replied. “And I want to know if the Mississippi was abiding by its obligations, and just unlucky – or if it had plain refused to obey them.”

  Veyron answered for him. “It’s possible the system broke. There will be
an investigation – one way or another, the truth will be obvious. So there’s no reason for the captain to lie.”

  Sam stopped at the dive planning room, across from the moon pool on the fifth level below the decks of the Maria Helena. He sat down and pulled out a pen and a piece of paper. “Good. Now. Tell me about oil solidifiers.”

  “What do you want to know?” Veyron, like all good engineers, needed specifics.

  Sam crossed his arms. “The Mississippi was supposed to have a state of the art system installed inside each oil compartment. The system was meant to stop an oil from leaking into the ocean.”

  “I’d say it didn’t work,” Veyron replied.

  “No. The captain tells me that some bright spark in their ultimate stupidity thought to run the cables controlling the solidifiers alongside with the ones that controlled the fixed deck foam system.” Sam looked at Veyron and Tom. Genevieve had already left. They both looked incredulous. “The captain says the system can be activated from inside the hull. So the question is, how well could this system possibly work in our current situation?”

  Realization dawned on Tom. “No, no you don’t. I see what you want. The question is entirely moot – the whole deck of the Mississippi is now aflame.”

  Sam uncrossed his arms. “So I hear. But both systems can be activated from deep inside the hull. The hull has been compromised and not only is it leaking oil, it’s also taking on water. That means there’s a perfectly good access point somewhere beneath all that furnace – if only we knew of someone capable of accessing a ship from thirty feet below.”

  “You must be crazy!” Veyron said.

  “She’s carrying three hundred million gallons of crude oil. That’s a lot of oil we can save from destroying the ocean. Besides, the captain tells me his owners have now kindly agreed to Lloyds Open Form.”

  Veyron shook his head. “That’s a lot of crazy – even for you.”