Was he the formidable Stephen Hendrick who had resisted several of their attacks the previous year and had killed a number of their men? Lin didn’t know for sure, but he had always imagined Hendrick to be a large, menacing man, much like the one he was looking at now.
The smell of cigarette smoke drifted through the trees, interrupting his thoughts. Lin looked over his right shoulder downward at the top of Xu Po-Rong, Lord Chang’s most able lieutenant. He was small and smoked incessantly, but he also left no doubt in anyone’s mind that he held Chang’s continuous favor, thereby securing Xu’s authority and respect. When Xu spoke, Chang spoke.
Xu suddenly looked upward as if realizing for the first time that he was being watched. He put an impatient expression on his face. “Lin, what are they doing?”
“Not much activity at all,” replied Lin. “They are repairing something on the other side. There are only a few men topside. One is carrying a rifle and pacing up and down the deck. The rest must be inside the submarine.”
“Have they unloaded anything?” asked Xu.
“No, not yet, and they don’t appear to be preparing to unload either,” answered Lin.
“They are probably waiting until tomorrow,” mumbled Xu. He raised eyes to Lin once again. “Come down.”
The bulky Lin obligingly slid down the trunk of the tree and waited expectantly for Xu’s next orders. Xu raised a two-way radio to his lips and informed Chang of the status of the submarine. Chang, who was anchored just on the other side of Diogo Island four miles to the southeast, ordered him to stay there until another watch party arrived to relieve them.
When Xu finished talking to Chang, Lin asked a question in a respectful voice.
“Why are we not attacking them now? They would be surprised,” asked Lin.
Xu turned and looked patiently at the much larger Lin. “They could submerge and get away.”
“We could sink them,” said Lin proudly.
“And then send you down one hundred meters to pick up all that treasure,” said Xu in a fatherly voice. “It’s better to let them unload the treasure then take it away from them.”
Lin smiled and nodded.
CHAPTER 17
Drawing Fire
ITBAYAT ISLAND
Steve Hendrick and Joe Malik climbed the ladder through the forward hatch and onto the deck of the submarine. They stretched and looked around in the early morning light, noting the armed guard that still patrolled the deck and the man up on the bridge at the top of the sail. The two Americans glanced around to watch Ian Howard and the rest of the divers climb up on deck and rub the sleep from their eyes. Hendrick looked each of them over and noted that they all had a firearm strapped to their waist in compliance with his wishes. He fully expected that Golubev and his crew would want to set sail immediately after he got his share of the gold out of the submarine.
The last two divers out of the hatch brought poles and a winch, and quickly set up the tripod over the hatch. They then connected the winch to the apex of the tripod. They returned inside the submarine and came back with two long wooden planks to be set up across the gap between the sub’s outer deck and the pier, forming a crude gangway.
Hendrick shook his head and turned to Malik. “There must be an easier way to do this.”
Malik shrugged. “This is the way we decided upon when we planned the mission. Maybe if we had been sure we were going to get all this gold, we would have picked a better method, but for now this is all we’ve got. We’re damn lucky the cases fit through this hatch. They didn’t fit through the airlock - that’s why we had to go through the torpedo tubes.”
“Yeah, all right. Let’s get to it,” said Hendrick in resignation.
The rest of the divers went down below to haul the gold from various places throughout the submarine to a position just below the hatch. They then placed the each case in a sling and Hendrick, Malik, and Howard lifted the cases on deck using the chain driven winch. The wooden cases were the kind that had ropes attached to each end, but the long underwater stay had rotted the ropes so that many had disappeared completely, and the others only had a few deteriorated strands left.
They picked the case up and, grasping it awkwardly due to the lack of any convenient handhold, carefully took it down the gangway whose thin boards bounced up and down under their weight. They cautiously stepped onto the pier, going to an area about thirty yards from the submarine. Hendrick, Malik, and the divers worked steadily for three hours while Malik kept count of the number of cases they were unloading. One of Golubev’s men also kept count from a position inside the sub below the hatch.
Malik took a step closer to Hendrick after dropping a case on the steadily growing pile they were making and lowered his voice. “Have you thought more about how we’re going to get the bank notes out of the decompression chamber?”
Hendrick wiped the sweat from his forehead with his shirtsleeve and shook his head. “We’ve got to come up with a diversion somehow.”
“Well you’d better think fast because we’re almost done here,” said Malik in a hushed voice. “We’re at fifty-nine cases now with only four to go.”
They both heard a cracking sound from the interior of the island and turned toward the noise. Something slammed into the wooden cases in front of them with a frenzied burst of energy, ripping off a piece of wood and sending splinters into the air around them. Hendrick leaped behind the cases but not before he felt the concussion of a bullet whizzing by an inch from his ear. Malik landed next to him and looked about in shock. They both peered around the cases and saw several men on the side of the hill that rose from the landing toward the mountain a mile to the southwest.
Malik pulled out his sidearm and prepared to return fire. “Well, we got our diversion.”
Hendrick yanked his automatic out of his holster and took off the safety. “You could have picked an island with friendlier natives,” he retorted. They both rolled in opposite directions toward the ends of the stack of cases and fired several quick shots toward the men on the hill. They immediately rolled back behind the cases and looked toward the submarine.
Golubev’s guard on the deck was huddled behind the sub’s sail and was returning fire with intermittent throaty bursts from his AK47. Ian Howard had managed to make it over behind the guard and was firing a few shots as well.
Suddenly a large burst of well-aimed gunfire hit the sail and the area surrounding Howard and the Russian guard. The Russian dropped his weapon and fell over sideways behind the sail while Howard ducked behind the sub’s large superstructure. The AK47 slid down the curved hull until it disappeared into the water with a splash. The gunfire let up, and Howard reached out, dragging the partially exposed Russian behind the sail. He bent over the man for several moments then looked toward Hendrick and slowly shook his head.
Hendrick and Malik cringed under a fresh burst of gunfire from what were fully automatic assault rifles.
“They - whoever they are - have assault rifles and we have these?” said Malik as he held his nine-millimeter automatic handgun in front of him. “Man, what chance have we got?”
“Golubev’s got some AK47s,” replied Hendrick.
“Yeah, and one of them just went into the drink,” said Malik. “So what’s he got left? One, two maybe.”
“You’re such an optimist, Joe,” said Hendrick with a scowl. He looked over their situation and didn’t like it. The cases of gold formed a stack of about six feet wide by four feet tall. With enough gunfire, their assailants could shred the wooden cases and the gold as well, until he and Malik were totally exposed. The stack was in the middle of a small clearing about twenty yards in diameter flanked by small, scrubby bushes which provided no cover at all. Hendrick estimated that they would have to run at least thirty yards to get to the cover of a clump of palm trees off to their right. They couldn’t stay, and they couldn’t go.
He eyed the way to the sub and judged it to be even longer than the thirty yards to the palm trees, as well as havin
g too many sharp turns that would delay them. He grabbed Malik’s elbow and told him that they should escape to their right into the cluster of thick palm trees. Malik looked at him as if he were crazy.
Another long burst of gunfire slammed into the stack of gold in front of them sending a blizzard of wood and gold splinters into the air. Hendrick felt Malik twitch violently behind him. The burst stopped as their assailants reloaded.
“I’m hit,” said Malik through clenched teeth.
Hendrick looked him over with a feeling of dread. He could see a small red spot on Malik’s right calf. Hendrick pulled up Malik’s pants leg, took out his handkerchief and pressed it into the wound.
“Looks like you’re not going anywhere,” said Hendrick, his small reserve of optimism fading quickly. He tied the handkerchief around Malik’s leg then pressed his back to the stack of gold bracing for the next blast from their attackers.
“Stephen Hendrick,” the amplified voice echoed between the line of trees and the submarine’s superstructure.
Malik gave Hendrick a pained look. “Friend of yours?”
Hendrick shrugged and peered around the pile of gold.
“Hendrick, we know you have recovered the treasure from the Awa Maru,” said the increasingly familiar voice among the trees. “Turn over the treasure, and we will let all of you live.”
“Where have I heard that voice before?” asked Hendrick
“Come now, Mr. Hendrick,” said Yum through the megaphone. “Surely your life is not worth mere money.”
“I don’t believe it!” exclaimed Hendrick as the voice clicked in his mind. The last time he had heard the voice, it had been demanding his surrender. “I think it’s Chang’s people!”
Malik screwed up his face in disbelief. “Chang? What the hell is he doing here?”
Hendrick pointed to the stack of precious metal in front of them. “Gold, remember?”
“How the hell did he find out about all this?” asked Malik in a fury.
“Can’t worry about that now. The fact is that he did, and now he’s here to take it away from us,” said Hendrick. He looked around quickly. “Maybe we can get out of here while he’s still talking.”
“You can, but I’m not going anywhere,” said Malik, pointing to his wounded leg.
Hendrick grabbed Malik under his shoulder and put his other arm under his partner’s legs. “C’mon, I’ll carry you,” said Hendrick.
Malik wiggled out of his grasp. “No, you won’t, you idiot! You won’t get two feet with me on top of you. Take off by yourself.”
“And leave you here?” asked Hendrick.
“Don’t worry about it,” replied Malik. “You’ll draw fire away from me.” He raised his eyebrows. “A lot of fire.”
Hendrick peered around the side of the boxes. “Maybe I can flank them.”
They heard two cracks in the distance. One bullet hit the pile of boxes above Hendrick’s head, ripping of a large piece of wood and sending it ten feet behind them. The second bullet passed by an inch from Hendrick’s neck. He quickly pulled his head back behind cover.
“Good thing for you that they’re not very good shots,” observed Malik. Yum’s voice interrupted what he was going to say next.
“You will signify that you agree to surrender the treasure by throwing your weapons out into the open where we can see them,” said Yum in his smooth manner. “But we are not unreasonable. So, Mr. Hendrick, we will give you some time to think it over.” There was a short pause. “You have fifteen seconds, then you will die.”
“This is just terrific,” said Malik.
The seconds ticked by too quickly. “Time’s up,” said Yum in a satisfied sounding voice. An elongated burst of gunfire erupted on the heels of Yum’s pronouncement, which shredded more wood and gold from the stack in front of Hendrick and Malik, causing them to jam their eyes shut.
Another sound of gunfire from a different direction made Hendrick open his eyes a crack to discover its source. He looked at the submarine’s bridge at the top of the sail. There was old Golubev with an AK47 firing away at Chang’s pirates. The burly Russian had thrown in his lot with Hendrick and Malik. Hendrick wondered why he hadn’t just submerged and sailed away, leaving the two Americans to their fate. The gunfire that had been directed toward Hendrick and Malik was now redirected toward Golubev.
“Talk about drawing fire,” said Malik in a respectful voice.
Now is the time to move, thought Hendrick. “Keep your head down,” he said to Malik while maneuvering over him to get to the right side of the boxes. Hendrick took a deep breath, leaped out from behind the boxes, and ran for all he was worth toward the cover of the palm trees some thirty yards away.
He fully expected a barrage of lead in his direction when he was halfway there, but none came. He gave quick thanks for his now fast friend, Golubev, and prayed that nothing would happen to him. With ten yards to go, the now constant gunfire seemed to change in tone. He knew that he had been spotted, and that they were now firing at him and not Golubev.
A stream of gunfire stitched its way along the ground behind his rapidly pumping legs. He felt something tear across his back as if someone had cut him with a machete. Five yards to go. His breath came in intermittent rips of sound as he took desperate gulps of air. He put every ounce of energy into his legs.
Two yards to the trees. He flung himself through the air with bullets whizzing above and below him within inches of his body.
Hendrick landed with a thump behind two palm trees with thick trunks. The gunfire peppered the trees with lead, sending bits of the tree and bullet fragments showering down around him. Hendrick buried his face in his arms and tried to get his breathing back to normal. Every time he flexed his back muscles a bolt of pain shot through him. After a few moments his breathing returned halfway to normal, and the pain across his back subsided somewhat. The gunfire abated, and Hendrick peered back over his shoulder toward Malik who was still behind the stack of gold. His friend gave him a short wave. Hendrick nodded then glanced at Golubev who lifted the barrel of his assault rifle over the edge of the sub’s superstructure and began to unload another clip toward the pirates.
Hendrick took the opportunity to move further to his right into more dense vegetation, then started to work his way inland in the general direction of the pirates. He gingerly felt his back and found that a bullet had skimmed his flesh cutting a shallow furrow in his skin. There wasn’t much blood, and he could feel the blood clotting quickly.
Hendrick checked his weapon and ammunition. The clip in the gun was half full, and he had one fresh clip in his pocket. Not a lot of ammo to go into a firefight with God knows how many men, thought Hendrick. But I have to relieve the pressure on Joe so he can get out of there. He pressed on, working his way uphill with new determination as the sounds of continuing gunfire filtered through the increasingly dense undergrowth.
The gunfire ceased abruptly as both sides took time to reload. The crashing sounds of branches being pushed back, and legs and feet colliding with the brush floated to him on the suddenly still air of the island. Hendrick froze in his tracks, his eyes frantically searching the brush and trees in front of him for the source of the noise. He stepped quietly behind a tree and peered around its trunk at the oncoming men as they hacked and mangled their way through the jungle. He saw a head bobbing among the green of the vegetation on the island and blinked quickly at the sight of a brightly colored red and gold bandana on the man’s forehead. Two other men appeared through the brush following the first.
The three men broke free of a particularly thick part of the vegetation and walked clear of the clinging jungle for a short space. Hendrick got a good look at each one of them.
The three pirates wore green fatigues and had the signature bandanas on their heads. All three had scraggly mustaches barely seen against their dark reddish skin. They all carried AK47s. High cheekbones, intense eyes, and cruel mouths gave Hendrick a chill. He recognized two of them as his adversaries i
n the Taiwan Strait last year. Now they would face each other one more time. Hendrick knew he had barely won last time.
The pirates were trying to do exactly what he was trying to do, outflank the enemy. Hendrick turned to go with the vague realization that he had waited too long, the approaching men were too close. Hendrick ducked down and moved away from the tree as silently and as quickly as he dared.
Someone gave a shout close behind him, and Hendrick realized with a sinking feeling that he had been spotted. He raced for a thick clump of brush and leaped into it just as an automatic weapon opened up behind him. Hendrick hit the ground and crawled as fast as his hands and legs could propel him through the brush as bullets flew through the branches a foot above his head.
Hendrick heard an abrupt cease fire and added it up quickly. They want to capture me first, he thought. He leaped to his feet and ran frantically through the brush to escape his pursuers.
Let’s see what shape they’re in, Hendrick thought as he turned and ran straight up a steep slope. The jungle thickened and the visibility was reduced to about five feet. He flailed away in a frenzy at the branches that hung in his path and desperately tried to keep up his frantic pace through the undergrowth, but he was forced to slow down due to the sheer density of the jungle. Insects flocked around him as he disturbed their homes, but he ignored them for fear of slowing too much if he took time to swing at them.
Hendrick could hear the brush crashing under the onslaught of the men behind him. One, he thought, was very close by, although he knew if he turned to look, he would see only the jungle closing back behind him, the branches and vines returning to their previously undisturbed positions. That also means, he thought, that they can’t see me either.
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