Dirk Pitt18-Black Wind

by Cussler, Clive

  burst in on them. Ryan could only mutter a "What the hell?" over the

  underwater communications system before he was yanked away from the

  control station at gunpoint with Farley in tow.

  Like sheep led to the slaughterhouse, the shipboard crew was herded in

  groups of three and four to the rear deck of the Sea Rover. Astern of

  the moon pool was a recessed cargo hold where the submersible and other

  equipment was stored when not in use. Under Kim's direction, the

  hold's heavy steel hatch cover was winched off with one of the Sea

  Rover's cranes. The frightened captives were then forced down a

  steel ladder into the dark, cavernous bay.

  Tongju approached Kim on the rear deck with a bound and limping Morgan

  in tow, another commando prodding the captain forward with the barrel

  of his assault rifle.

  "Report?" Tongju asked bluntly.

  "All objectives achieved," Kim reported proudly. "One casualty in the

  engine room, Ta-kong, but all ship's compartments are now secure. We've

  transferred all the captives to the stern hold. Jin-chul reports that

  eight units of ordnance have been located intact in the ship's

  auxiliary laboratory," he added, nodding toward a wiry commando

  standing next to a prefabricated structure across the deck. "The

  submersible is currently deployed in recovery of additional

  ordnance."

  "Very well," Tongju replied with a rare smile that revealed a set of

  heavily yellowed teeth. "Contact the Baekje. Tell her to tie up

  alongside and prepare for transfer of the ordnance."

  "You won't get far," Morgan growled, spitting out a mouthful of blood

  as he spoke.

  "But, Captain," Tongju replied with an evil smirk, "we already have."

  A thousand feet beneath the Sea Rover, Summer was carefully placing the

  tenth aerial bomb into the makeshift holding tray alongside the ninth

  canister she had plucked from the bottom just moments before. She

  again secured both bombs with the mechanical arms, then turned to Dirk

  when she was finished.

  "Ten down, two to go. You may take us home now, Jeeves."

  "Yes, m'lady," he replied in a Cockney accent, then he actuated the

  submersible's thrusters and backed out of the tight confines of the

  hangar. As they cleared the deck of the I-411, Summer radioed up to

  the Sea Rover's control room.

  "Sea Rover, this is Starfish. Have secured the next batch and are

  preparing to ascend with the goods, over."

  The call was returned with silence. She tried calling several more

  times as they started their ascent but again received no response from

  the surface.

  "Ryan must be asleep at the wheel," Dirk said.

  "Can't blame him," Summer replied while suppressing a yawn. "It is

  two-thirty in the morning."

  "I just hope the guy on the crane is awake," he smirked.

  As they neared the surface, they spotted the familiar glow of the moon

  pool lights and maneuvered the Starfish into the center of the ring,

  where they bobbed gently to the surface. Dirk and Summer paid scant

  attention to the shadowy figures on the deck as the clank of the main

  hoist was dropped and attached to the submersible and they began to

  power down its electronic equipment. It was only when they were jerked

  roughly out of the water and swung wildly to the stern deck, nearly

  colliding with the port bulkhead, that they realized something was

  amiss.

  "Who the hell's working the crane?" Summer cursed as they were set

  down harshly on the deck. "Don't they know we've got two bombs

  aboard?"

  "It sure ain't the Welcome Wagon," Dirk said drily as he stared out of

  the bubble window.

  Directly in front of them, an Asian man in a black paramilitary outfit

  stood holding an automatic pistol to the stomach of Captain Morgan.

  Dirk looked beyond the man's long Fu Manchu mustache and crooked yellow

  teeth splayed in an evil grin and focused on the eyes. They were cold,

  black eyes that portrayed a menacing air of utter indifference. They

  were, Dirk knew, the eyes of an experienced killer.

  Summer gasped at the sight of Morgan. A makeshift bandage was wrapped

  about his left thigh but failed to cover the rivulets of dried blood

  that was splattered down his leg. His cheekbone was bruised and

  swollen to the size of a grapefruit, and his eye had already begun to

  blacken. More dried blood ran from his mouth and onto his shirt. Yet

  the crusty captain stood unflinching, his lack of fear so prominent

  that Summer failed to notice he was still wearing a pair of boxer

  shorts.

  A pair of commandos suddenly jumped in front of the Starfish's acrylic

  bubble, waving their AK-74s about wildly in a show for Dirk and Summer

  to exit the submersible. The gun muzzles were quickly poked in their

  faces as they climbed out of the submersible and were marched over to

  Morgan and Tongju.

  "Mr. Pitt," Tongju said in a low voice. "Good of you to join us.

  "I don't believe I've had the pleasure of your acquaintance," Dirk

  replied sarcastically.

  "A humble servant of the Japanese Red Army whose name is unimportant,"

  Tongju replied with feigned graciousness, bowing his head slightly.

  "I didn't realize there were still any of you fruitcakes left outside

  of jail."

  Tongju just held his grin, not moving a facial muscle. "You and your

  sister have fifteen minutes to replenish the submersible's batteries

  and prepare to retrieve the final two ordnance," he said calmly.

  "They are both damaged and in pieces," Dirk lied, his mind racing to

  compute a plan of action.

  Tongju calmly raised the Glock pistol aimed at Morgan's side and held

  the muzzle to the captain's right temple. "You have fourteen minutes,

  at which time I shall kill your captain. Then I will kill your sister.

  And then I will kill you," he said coldly, his lips parting in a

  self-satisfying grin.

  Dirk could feel the blood racing through his veins as he glared at the

  madman in anger. Then the delicate touch of Summer's hand on his

  shoulder dispelled any thoughts of rash action.

  "Come on, Dirk, we haven't much time," she said, guiding him to a

  wheeled cart that had been rolled out with replacement batteries for

  the submersible. Morgan looked at Dirk and nodded in concurrence.

  Fighting the feeling of total helplessness, he reluctantly began

  transferring the batteries to the Starfish, all the while keeping one

  eye glued to the commando leader.

  As they prepped the submersible for a last dive, the final remnants of

  the ship's crew were marched by and forced into the rear hold at

  gunpoint. Summer grimly noted the frightened look on two lab analysts

  as they were prodded roughly down the hatchway.

  Working quickly, Dirk and Summer replaced the submersible's power

  supply in just over twelve minutes. There would be no time for the

  standard post operation and pre dive system checks normally per

  formed before the submersible was returned to the water. They would

  have to hope the Starfish was operational for one more dive.

  Tongju walked over
in a measured clip and glared up at the two

  Americans, who both towered over him.

  "You will promptly retrieve the remaining ordnance and return to the

  vessel without any nonsense. You have ninety minutes to complete your

  dive successfully or there will be severe consequences."

  "If I were you, I think I'd be worrying about the consequences from our

  military forces for pirating a government ship," Summer spat angrily.

  "There will be no consequences," Tongju replied, smiling thinly, "for a

  ship that no longer exists."

  Before Summer could respond, Tongju spun on his heels and walked away,

  replaced by two commandos who stepped forward with their assault rifles

  drawn and aimed.

  "Come on, sister," Dirk muttered. "There's no use arguing with a

  psychopath."

  Dirk and Summer threaded themselves back into the Starfish, then were

  roughly jostled into the air by the crane operator. As they were

  prepared to be let go, Dirk watched through the acrylic bubble as

  Morgan was roughly manhandled to the stern hold and forcefully pitched

  down into the container. A commando on a stern deck crane hoisted up

  the massive steel hatch and positioned it over the rear hold before

  lowering it in place. Secured over the hold, the hatch imprisoned the

  entire ship's crew in darkness below.

  With a violent splash, the Starfish was crudely dropped into the moon

  pool a second later and released from the ship's cable.

  "He means to sink the Sea Rover" Dirk said to Summer as they began

  their slow descent to the bottom.

  "With the entire crew locked in the hold?" she asked, shaking her head

  in disbelief.

  "I think so," he said somberly. "Unfortunately, there's not much we

  can do in the way of calling for help."

  "Our underwater communication system won't do any good, and any surface

  calls we might try wouldn't have the range to reach anybody in this

  region except a few Chinese fishermen."

  "Or the cable ship that is evidently supporting these characters," he

  added, shaking his head.

  "Our intelligence heads apparently underestimated this Japanese Red

  Army," Summer said. "Those guys didn't look like a rogue band of

  ideological extremists with dynamite strapped to their backs."

  "No, it's apparent they are well-trained military professionals.

  Who-ever's running their operation is obviously skilled and well

  funded." "I wonder what they intend to do with the bombs?" "An attack

  in Japan would figure. But there's obviously more to this Japanese Red

  Army than meets the eye, so I wouldn't want to wager on what their

  intent is."

  ""I guess we can't worry about that for now. We've got to figure out a

  way to save the crew."

  "I counted eight commandos, and there was no doubt a few more on the

  bridge and elsewhere on the ship. Too many to overpower with a couple

  of screwdrivers," Dirk said, examining the contents of a small toolbox

  mounted behind his seat.

  "We'll need to quietly get some of the crewmen out of the hold to help

  us. If we had enough people, maybe we could overpower them." "I don't

  relish the thought of going unarmed against an AK-74, but there might

  be a chance in numbers. Getting the lid off that storage hold is the

  problem. I'd need a couple of uninterrupted minutes on the stern

  crane, but I don't think our friends in black would be too obliging."

  "There must be another way out of that hold," Summer wondered.

  "No, unfortunately, there isn't. I'm sure it matches the Deep

  Endeavor, where it was designed strictly as a storage hold and is

  blocked off from any entry amidships by the moon pool."

  "I thought Ryan had run a power cable down there once from someplace

  other than the open hatch cover."

  Dirk thought hard for a moment, trying to jog his memory. After a long

  minute, a light finally clicked on.

  "You're right. There's a small venting hatch that opens on the

  bulkhead just aft of the moon pool. It's really more of an air vent,

  designed to release the buildup of noxious gases if chemicals are

  stored in the hold. I'm pretty sure a man could squeeze through it.

  The problem for Morgan and the crew is that it's sealed and locked from

  the outside."

  "We've got to figure out a way to unlock it," Summer willed.

  Together, they worked through several contingency plans, finally

  settling on an order of attack based on their opportunities once aboard

  the Sea Rover. It would take timing, skill, and a dose of daring to

  pull off. But mostly it would take luck.

  Dirk and Summer fell silent as their minds conjured up gruesome images

  of the Sea Rover sinking with all hands, their friends, and coworkers

  trapped in the airtight hold. Then the specter of the I-411 suddenly

  rose up in the blackness before them and they washed the images from

  their minds. With the clock ticking, they went about their business of

  retrieving the final two canisters of death. Dirk maneuvered the

  submersible into the hangar as before, setting the Starfish down within

  easy reach of the remaining ordnance. As Summer began manipulating the

  mechanical arms by sight through the acrylic bubble, Dirk observed the

  video camera feed on the monitor, which recorded every moment of the

  recovery. He watched while Summer gently lifted the first canister and

  was placing it in the recovery basket when he suddenly powered up

  Snoopy and grabbed the remote vehicle's controls. In an instant, he

  nudged the ROV out of its cradle just a few inches, then spun the tiny

  machine around until its nose was pressed against the submersible's

  skid plates and applied full

  thrusting power. The tiny ROV went nowhere, but its water jets stirred

  up a thick cloud of muck and sediment in front of the Starfish. In a

  flash, the water visibility went to zero amid a cloud of brown.

  "What are you doing?" Summer demanded, freezing the mechanical arm

  controls.

  "You'll see," he said, although there was nothing to see at all. After

  reaching over and fidgeting with Summer's controls for a moment, he

  then powered down the ROV's thruster. It took two minutes for the

  seawater to clear enough that Summer could proceed with seizing the

  final canister.

  "You want to try that trick again?" she asked after depositing the

  bomb into the basket.

  "Why not?" he replied, hitting the ROV thruster again and stirring up

  another muddy cloud for the camera.

  Once the water cleared and both canisters were pinned into the basket,

  Dirk edged the submersible away from the submarine and they began their

  slow ascent. Halfway to the surface, they traded positions, squirming

  over one another so that Summer controlled the submersible movements

  while Dirk manned the controls of both mechanical arms.

  "Okay, take us on up," Dirk instructed. "As soon as they drop us onto

  the deck, I'll need you to create a diversion." While he spoke, he

  worked the left mechanical arm away from its locked position on the

  weapons basket and flexed it straight out to its full extension so that

  it po
ked out from the Starfish like a lance.

  Summer trusted her brother's instincts implicitly, and had little time

  to argue anyway. The ringed lights of the moon pool soon came into

  view. Summer steered the Starfish to the center of the opening, then

  they broke surface with a rush of bubbles and foaming seawater. A

  metallic clank was heard as the lifting hook was attached to the

  submersible and the diminutive vessel was yanked from the water. Summer

  peered out at Tongju and a half-dozen other commandos as the

  submersible swung through the air. Her brother, she noted, was intently watching their forward progress while gently adjusting the

  mechanical arm's position. When they were crudely dropped to the deck

  by the inexperienced crane operator, she saw Dirk jam the arm controls

  all the way forward. The metal claw bounced forward along the deck as

  they stopped, coming to a halt near the rear bulkhead. Four feet off

  to the side was the small, sealed venting hatch that led to the storage

  hold.

  "Our boy on the crane came through," Dirk muttered. "We're in the

  ballpark."

  "I guess it's showtime," Summer replied with a nervous look.

  Moving quickly, she stripped out of her NUMA jumpsuit, revealing a lean

  body that was clad in a skimpy two-piece bathing suit covered by a

  large T-shirt. Reaching under the shirt, she unhooked her bathing top

  and let it fall to the floor, then grabbed the loose base of her

  T-shirt and tied a knot with the material just above her navel. The