“All of you put your hands on the table and keep them where I can see them,” ordered Maggie. They all slowly complied. She walked sideways toward the door while keeping her eyes on the men. She put a hand on the doorknob and gave it a quick turn.
“Miss Ramsey, are you the daughter of Fumio Nagata?” asked Xu. His serious face slowly melted into a smile.
The question made her pause.
“Stepdaughter,” she shot back carelessly. “What’s it to you?”
Maggie yanked the door open, intending to back her way into the hallway beyond but never made it. A strong hand grabbed the gun in her hand and jerked it upward. One arm went around her waist; another went around her neck. She opened her mouth to scream, but a cloth with a noxious smelling substance on it was shoved into her nose and mouth. She kicked and squirmed, but the hold on her was firm. The fumes went into her throat, up her nose, and into her eyes.
Maggie’s eyes rolled upward, and she went limp.
ABOARD THE KURCHATOV
Steve Hendrick looked at Joe Malik and actually smiled. It was the first in a long time. “I never thought I’d see this day.”
Joe Malik smiled back. “Yeah, in a few minutes we’ll actually be underway.” They both leaned over the bridge railing and watched the deck crew single up on the lines holding them to their berth. The sub captain, Viktor Golubev, who stood shoulder to shoulder with them, shouted another order to his crew via a megaphone. He watched the men scramble aft to release the lines on the stern of the boat, then he muttered something into a nearby sound powered phone that was connected to the conn.
Hendrick, who had become more fluent in Russian over the past few months, could only follow some of what the captain was saying. Nautical orders in Russian weren’t familiar to him.
The sub’s engines sped up with a growl, and they could feel the boat’s stern begin to swing away from the dock. Golubev watched its progress, then after a few minutes issued another order into the phone. The engine noise dropped quickly. He picked up the megaphone and gave another guttural command to his deck crew. They rushed forward and let go the bow lines.
Golubev expertly backed the boat away from the dock, then gave rudder and engine orders to straighten them out and get them through the channel to the open sea. Even though spring was near, a cold wind hit them, causing them to huddle deeper into their foul weather jackets.
“Nicely done, Captain,” said Hendrick and gave the short Russian a pat on the back.
Golubev nodded, then raised binoculars to his eyes. “Spasiba.”
An hour later when they had cleared the port and had the wide-open Pacific in front of them, Golubev tapped Hendrick on the shoulder. He turned and looked at the craggy features of the Russian sub captain.
“Dive,” said Golubev and pointed his finger down.
Hendrick nodded. He and Joe Malik squirmed their way over to the hatch leading down the conning tower below deck. Golubev waited until they were below then gave more orders. The rumbling diesel engine stopped, creating a queer vacuum of sound as the sub’s propulsion went on electric motors.
Golubev arrived below and secured the hatch leading up to the conning tower, then looking over the shoulders of his crewmembers to insure safety, he gave the order to dive. The dive alarm went off alerting the crew, and Hendrick and Malik could see the professionalism of the crew in the conn as they expertly took the sub below the waves. They had been assured that they were getting an excellent crew, many of whom were recently mustered out from the Russian submarine force. The two Americans nodded to each other in satisfaction at the sure, confident motions of their Russian shipmates.
Golubev barked out a few orders to correct some minor errors, then got on the ship’s intercom to tell his crew to look for leaks. Previously he had a man stationed at each hatch with the rest spread out through the boat to inform him quickly of any leaks. He turned to Hendrick and Malik.
“We go to thirty meter - see if we leak,” Golubev said in English.
“Good,” replied Hendrick. He glanced at Malik. “Cross your fingers ol’ buddy.”
“Yeah,” muttered Malik as he glanced about nervously. Hendrick kept his eyes on the depth gauge and followed their progress to the ordered depth. The sub groaned as the metal got used to the pressure once again. Hendrick wondered how many miles the vessel had on her. Golubev received a few intermittent reports of minor leaks, but generally he seemed pleased at the condition of the sub.
Hendrick’s thoughts turned to the near future as anticipation filled him. Next stop - the Taiwan Strait.
“Captain, let’s go over the charts again,” said Hendrick. Together they walked the few steps to the chart table. “You will take us to this point, Point Alpha.” Hendrick’s finger stabbed the chart at a point north of Taiwan well away from the coast of China.
“Yes, and then?” replied the Russian.
“Then we wait for a large ship that is going down the Taiwan Strait,” said Hendrick.
Golubev questioned him with his eyes for a fleeting moment, then realization flooded his face. “Da!” he said with enthusiasm.
Malik was puzzled. “Why not go straight in for the wreck? Why wait for a ship?”
“The Taiwanese, and probably the Chinese as well, have hydrophone arrays on the sea floor,” said Hendrick. “We can mask our noise by tailing a surface ship past the arrays, then peel off and head for the wreck.”
“You know where these things are?” asked Malik.
“Well, not exactly, but I’ll bet the captain here has a pretty good idea,” replied Hendrick as he gestured to the stout Russian. “He used to sail these waters for years when he was employed by the Russian navy.”
Malik raised his eyebrows to convey his skepticism. “This is getting stickier and stickier.”
“You worry too much, Joe. As long as this piece of shit -” Hendrick gestured around him. “ - holds together we’ll be all right.”
“That’s what worries me,” said Malik. “You’re talking about trying to evade two navies in this bucket of bolts. And if we don’t, what happens next? Depth charges?”
Hendrick smiled at his partner. “So it’s not a picnic, so what? Nothing worth doing is ever easy. Have we ever done anything that was easy?”
Malik just shook his head and rolled his eyes.
They planned to submerge while well away from the wreck of the Awa Maru, then approach it underwater and perform salvage operations. After a few days they would back away from the wreck to surface and use a snorkel to pump in fresh air to run the diesels and recharge batteries. With some luck they could avoid the Communist Chinese Navy and thus not cut them in on the deal. The same went for the Taiwanese Navy. If they were detected, either navy might drop depth charges on them to force them to the surface. If they had to surface, Golubev and his men would don Russian uniforms and claim they were on a training mission and had suffered an engineering casualty to their engines. Hendrick and the diving crew would stay out of sight. With enough bluster, it might work.
“C’mon, I’ll buy you a cup of coffee,” said Hendrick and clapped a hand on Malik’s shoulder.
They walked down to the mess and poured out two steaming cups of coffee, then lingered next to the coffee pot and blew on the hot drink to get its temperature below scalding levels.
Hendrick’s thoughts turned to Maggie Ramsey, and he smiled at the memory of her devouring pizza and gulping beer on the day they had rescued her from the sea. Thoughts of her would intrude every so often when the hectic pace of the salvage operation would slow and he could afford a moment to think about her. He wondered what would have happened in the passageway if he had gone into her room instead of just kiss her once. Maggie’s presence filled him again, and he felt the same rush of excitement as he had when she slid into his arms so many months ago.
I wonder what she’s doing now, he thought. Probably relaxing on the beach in some exotic locale. He smiled again.
TAIWAN STRAIT
“Miss R
amsey,” called a voice out of the darkness. “Miss Ramsey.”
Maggie struggled to awaken and forced her eyes open only to see mist in front of her. Her eyes rolled uncontrollably. She jammed her eyes shut as her mind worked at regaining consciousness.
“Miss Ramsey, it’s good to have you with us once again,” said a female voice from beyond the veil.
Maggie tried to move but couldn’t, then she concentrated on taking deep breaths in an effort to get her body going again. She heard a sound nearby, so close that it seemed to be within her, and suddenly realized that she was moaning loudly. The bed underneath her seemed to sway, and rather than let herself go with the swaying world, she tensed her body to compensate for the motion.
“Relax,” said the voice soothingly. “Everything will be all right.”
Maggie felt a cool hand on her forehead. She dragged her eyes open and steeled herself to the light. The young woman came gradually into focus as Maggie blinked her eyes furiously. The woman, who was so solicitous of her health, was young, thin, and beautiful. She looked Chinese, but her skin seemed darker than a pure Chinese would be. Her clothes fit her tightly, and she wore the common multicolored dress with flower designs and colorful dragons all over it. Maggie stared at her. Maggie’s memory began to return. The young woman looked familiar.
“Where -” she began, but the words stuck in her throat. The young woman ran to get a glass of water, and left Maggie staring at one of the light fixtures that hung from the ceiling by a short chain. The room moved under her once again, and the light moved in the opposite direction.
The whole damn room is moving! Maggie struggled to understand what was happening. Her nurse came back with the water and helped her up to a sitting position. Maggie took two large gulps then looked about the room. The woman’s identity suddenly snapped into her mind. Li Tai Su, she thought, my nurse and attendant when I was -
Oh, no, she thought.
The door suddenly opened, and two men walked in. One was tall, about six feet, with Asian features. His eyes were rounder than most Asians and he was dressed in a nondescript loose fitting suit that had buttons straight up to his chin. His general demeanor was pleasant including his smile. The other man was also Asian, but less than five feet tall, wearing green combat fatigues with a bright, intricately woven vest over it. His skin was almost black from the sun, and he had a silly grin as wide as his head.
“Well, Miss Ramsey!” exclaimed the taller one with only a trace of a far eastern accent. “Welcome back on board!” He stepped aside and deferentially gave the man next to him more room. “You remember our esteemed leader, I presume.” He gestured to the small man.
Maggie jammed her eyes shut in pain at the thought of who these people were. “I know Chang,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Lord Chang to you,” corrected the tall man in a pleasant manner. He continued effusively. “My name, in case you have forgotten, is Mister Yum. Lord Chang is most pleased to have you on board again. When you left us so abruptly, he was concerned that you might fall into evil hands.”
“Oh, I’ll bet,” replied Maggie. “So, Xu, Lin, and Yee are Chang’s men.”
“Yes. Lord Chang is ecstatic to find you so easily among the millions in Taiwan,” replied Yum. “Lord Chang is also delirious with joy at having as his guest the esteemed daughter of such a towering captain of industry as Fumio Nagata.”
“Stepdaughter,” snapped Maggie. She gave Chang a look of pure hatred. Look at the little turd, she thought to herself. If his grin gets any wider, the top of his head will fall off. “Yeah, he’s delirious all right,” replied Maggie. “So how much is he asking for this time?”
“Negotiations are underway at this very moment, but if they fail, as you well know, blond American women, especially naturally blond American women, are extremely rare in this part of the world and command a positively obscene amount of money from buyers,” said Yum. He evidently intended his remarks to be taken as a compliment. “There are any number of potential buyers in the area and one in particular in the Sulu Sea who is very interested.”
Chang spoke suddenly without losing his tremendous grin, and the tall man quickly gave him his entire attention. Yum translated after Chang was finished.
“Lord Chang has graciously informed me that he will not put a price on you, but will rather have an auction, and we anticipate that the price will go even higher.”
“Tell Lord Chang to go fuck himself,” said Maggie.
“I certainly will not tell him that for your sake,” said Yum pleasantly and with no change in manner. “But mostly for my sake as he would rip me limb from limb if I even translated that to him.”
Chang spoke a short sentence that sounded like a question, and the tall man answered with an ebullient reply.
“What’s all that about?” asked Maggie.
“Lord Chang asked what you had said, and I told him that you were happy to be back, and that you had accidentally fallen into the sea when you had made your escape months ago,” Yum replied.
Maggie shook her head in disgust. “Chang’s got to be an idiot to believe all that bullshit.”
“Some people think that love makes the world go ‘round,” said Yum. “On the contrary, it is bullshit that makes the world go ‘round.”
The young woman, who had been attending Maggie, ran to the other side of the room and got a chair for Chang in response to a monosyllabic order. Chang plopped himself in the chair and stared attentively at Maggie. He spoke a few words to Yum who nodded and looked at Maggie with a broad smile.
“Now, Miss Ramsey, why don’t you tell us all about Stephen Hendrick and the Awa Maru,” he said pleasantly.
CHAPTER 9
The Awa Maru
THE KURCHATOV
TAIWAN STRAIT
Viktor Golubev leaned over the sonar man and strained to listen in on his man’s headphones. They had submerged an hour ago and waited for the telltale screws of a freighter passing by overhead. They were in line with a heavily traveled shipping route listening to cargo-laden ships that came by every few hours. Crews from the Taiwan Navy, and the Chinese Navy as well, were listening on sets of headphones, identical to the ones his sonar man was using, to determine who was near their coastal waters. They would match the sounds from any unidentified vessel with ones stored in their extensive libraries to determine the type of ship and its nationality.
Submarines received special attention due to their status as the ultimate stealth ship. The Taiwanese and Chinese were particularly adept at detecting submarines that ran the Taiwan Strait, and they were also excellent at convincing them to leave the area. All of these facts made Golubev nervous even though the Golf class submarine, as old as it was, was fairly quiet when submerged and running on batteries.
Golubev turned and looked into the expectant eyes of Hendrick who immediately raised his eyebrows in an unspoken question. The older Russian shook his head solemnly and turned back to his sonarman who slowly moved a handwheel back and forth, scanning for sound over a ten degree arc to the north. His movements suddenly became less and less pronounced until he stopped moving the wheel entirely. The sonarman put both hands on his headphones and pressed them to his ears. Golubev moved closer and put his right ear almost on the outside of his man’s left earphone.
The sonarman listened for a moment, then nodded and looked at Golubev. The captain made a “gimme” gesture with his hands and took the headphones from his man and placed them over his own ears. He listened for a few seconds then got a slowly increasing smile on his face. Golubev glanced at Hendrick and gave him a quiet thumbs up. The American smiled and nodded in return.
Minutes later, a large freighter sailed by directly overhead with the sounds of its screws conducted through the hull. To Hendrick and the rest, the noise meant safety from detection. Golubev gave the orders and the submarine silently slid under and a bit aft of the freighter, allowing the large ship’s acoustics to wash around them and hide their relatively feeble noise fro
m the waiting underwater hydrophones.
Five hours later, following a course given by Hendrick directly to the captain, the submarine left the relative safety of the ship above them and headed to the southwest.
“Captain, communications depth, please,” said Hendrick. Golubev obliged and had the sub at the requested depth in a short time.
“Now Captain, please raise your communications antenna,” said Hendrick.
But this time Golubev adamantly shook his head. “First, we look,” he replied with his index finger raised.
Hendrick nodded while the captain gave out a series of orders. He watched the crew operate together as if they had been sailing together for years.
Golubev issued another brief order, and the periscope tube slid up into position. He flipped the handles down and took a quick three hundred and sixty degree look around the surface. The captain turned in the opposite direction more slowly this time in order to examine the horizon for any ships that might have hostile intent. After several long minutes he was finally satisfied and ordered the periscope retracted.
He gave the order to raise the antenna, then turned to Hendrick. “The antenna is up,” he said in Russian.
Hendrick nodded to the captain and pulled an electronic instrument about the size of a cell phone from his pocket. He disconnected its built-in antenna then walked over to the side of the conn near the chart table where a coaxial cable dangled from the overhead. He plugged the cable into the now open coaxial connector on his instrument. He flipped on the power with his thumb and looked at the liquid crystal readout. The Global Positioning System receiver told him their location within ten meters.
Hendrick shielded the numbers from the rest of the crew, except for Joe Malik. Golubev would have looked over their shoulders, but he had been instructed previously to take headings from Hendrick to get to their final position. Both Hendrick and Malik had their doubts whether this arrangement would actually keep their final position from the crew, but they thought that they had to attempt it anyway, just in case they had to come back for another run at the sunken vessel in the future. They didn’t want the whole world to know exactly where the ship was located. Hendrick knew the probability of keeping the sunken ship’s location from a wily old fox like Golubev was pretty low, but he knew that an exact location was needed to find the old wreck. An approximate one in these mud filled waters wasn’t enough.
Hidden Sun Page 11