The Inside Passage (Ted Higuera Series Book 1)

by Pendelton Wallace

  ****

  Echo Bay, Canada

  Meagan gasped at Ted’s deduction that the terrorists planned to blow up a cruise ship.

  “It’s a perfect target,” Ted went on. “There are five or six thousand people on one of those babies. If they sink it quickly in these cold waters, most of the passengers are gonna die.”

  Silence descended upon the Defiant’s cabin. Ted sensed, rather than saw both Chris and Meagan take a step back from his computer screen.

  Meagan wrapped her arms around herself as if feeling the sting of the chilly water.

  “They wouldn’t have time to put life boats in the water.” Ted’s hands flew around, illustrating his points as his excitement built. “They could kill thousands of people.”

  “But why a cruise ship?” Chris stared out the cabin window. “Besides killing a lot of people, what’s in it for them?”

  “Think about it. The cruise industry is a multi-billion dollar business, dude. What happened after 9/11? Everyone stopped flying. They thought it wasn’t safe. A bunch of airlines went broke.”

  “Totally.” Meagan moved closer Chris. “My mom had tickets to fly back to Virginia to visit her sister. She was so scared she let them expire rather than get on an airplane.”

  “Okay, so they blow up a cruise ship.” Ted stood and paced the cabin. “Then people all over the world know how vulnerable cruise ships are.” He was ready to explode with pent-up energy.

  “They stop booking cruises. The industry collapses. It puts thousands of people out of work, stock holders lose their investment.” Ted reached the forward end of the cabin, grabbed the mast and swiveled back around to Chris and Meagan. “It wouldn’t cripple our economy, but it sure would hurt it.”

  “They only have one anti-ship missile.” Chris mused out loud. “What’re they going to do with all of those shoulder launched missiles?”

  “Think like a terrorist, dude. They sink the biggest, fattest target they can find. Then what happens?”

  “Rescue.” Meagan spoke slowly. “People come to the rescue.”

  “That’s right. They might get some life boats in the water. Some yachts might come to pick up survivors, but who’s going to respond first?

  “The Coast Guard,” Meagan said. “They’ll send helicopters.”

  “Bingo!” Ted touched his index finger to the end of his nose. “Those are surface to air missiles. They’re going to shoot down the rescue helicopters.”

  “But how can they get away with it?” Tears formed in the corners of Meagan’s eyes. “Even if they sink a ship and shoot down helicopters, how’ll they get away? The Coast Guard or the Navy’ll hunt them down.”

  “What if they aren’t planning on getting away?” Ted’s voice took on an icy tone. “There was a box of plastic explosives in that shed. Maybe they’re suicide bombers. It’s just like in Iraq. Maybe they plan on blowing up the ship, then fighting off the rescuers, but they realize that the Coast Guard and the Navy’ll eventually come after ‘em. Maybe they’ll wait until a Navy ship comes along side, then BOOM! They’re planning on dying for Allah.”

  A long silence filled the cabin. Ted walked to the galley and grabbed a beer from the ice chest. Chris climbed the companionway steps and stood staring out at the settlement. Meagan just studied her hands.

  “Shit!” Chris slammed his fist into the bulkhead. “I just realized something.”

  Ted looked at his friend. Chris’ body trembled. His breathing was shallow. His face was beet-red.

  “What’s the biggest, most expensive cruise ship ever built?” Chris’ voice cracked. “What ship’s going to have the most passengers? What ship’s going to be filled with VIPs?”

  Ted had never seen his friend this emotional.

  “Oh my God!” Meagan’s hands went to her face. “Your dad.”

  “That’s right. The Star of the Northwest. Dad, Sarah and Candace’ll be coming up here in a few days.” Chris wiped at his nose with the back of his hand. “It’s the maiden voyage of the biggest, most expensive cruise ship ever built. There’s going to be senators, congressmen, governors, movie stars, rock stars on board. It’s going to be a Who’s Who of America’s celebrity culture. What could be a more inviting target?”

  “This just got personal, dude.”

  ****

  Echo Bay, Canada

  John and Kathy MacLaughlin sat in folding camp chairs, staring out at the waters of Cramer Passage with binoculars.

  “There they are!” Kathy pointed at a large black lump in the water.

  “There’s the baby,” John said. “It’s the mother and her calf.”

  The two, owners of the marina at Echo Bay, were endlessly fascinated by the abundance of wild life that surrounded their little outpost. A mother humpback whale and her calf had taken up residence in Cramer Pass. John and Kathy spent hours watching their antics.

  “Excuse me,” a voice behind them said, breaking in on their whale watching time. “But we’ve got to make a call. Do you have a telephone?”

  Kathy, a thin, fit looking woman in her sixties with short gray hair, looked at her young guest. She seemed to be horribly upset.

  “No dear, there are no telephones out here. We have a short wave radio.”

  “No that won’t work. We need to call the Coast Guard.”

  “That’s no problem,” John butted in. “We can raise them on the short wave, or they monitor channel sixteen on your VHF.”

  “We need a land line. We can’t talk to them over the air waves.”

  “What’s the matter, dear,” Kathy’s motherly instincts kicked in. She had a daughter just about the girl’s age living in Vancouver and going to grad school at UBC.

  “It’s really important. We need to talk to the authorities. Where’s the nearest phone?”

  “Port McNeil, I expect,” John said.

  The girl turned on her heels and ran back down the float to the fuel dock.

  “That’s the most peculiar young lady,” Kathy said. “I wonder what’s troubling her.”

  Chapter 41

  Echo Bay, Canada

  Gulls wheeled and cried in the gray sky. Low flying clouds scudded across the slate background. Swells built up by the stiff breeze across the long stretch of Cramer pass crashed into the old pontoon. Ted topped off the water tanks while Chris refueled the Defiant. Hearing footsteps approaching, Ted looked up to see Meagan running down the dock.

  “They don’t have a telephone here.” Meagan called as she approached. “We’re going to have to go all the way back to Port McNeil.” She grabbed onto the lifelines for support and paused to catch her breath. “They said we could use their radio, though.”

  “Na, not a good idea.” Ted pictured the terrorists crowded around a two-way radio. “Anyone can listen in on a radio transmission.”

  “We can e-mail the Coast Guard.” Meagan said.

  “E-mail’s not secure.” Ted’s security training brought on a knee-jerk reaction.

  “You think a bunch of sketch Arabs way out here are going to be monitoring the Coast Guard’s e-mail?” Meagan’s look told him she thought he was some kind of an idiot.

  “Y’ never know.” He held back his temper as he deliberately coiled the water hose. “Messin’ around with a bunch of armed terrorists could be dangerous, chica. These guys’re pretty sophisticated. It’s easier to steal an e-mail than it is to intercept a cell phone call.”

  “Well, we can’t use the radio.” Chris wiped down the deck around the fuel fill line. “The terrorists might hear it and know that we’re on to them.”

  “If they knew, we’d be sitting ducks in the Defiant.” Meagan, recovered from her exertion, climbed aboard. “They might come after us. Any powerboat could outrun run us.”

  “Meagan’s right.” Crap, Ted thought, how come Teddy’s agreeing with her? “We have to go back to Port McNeil.” He stowed the water hose in the lazarette. “There’s sure to be a Coast Guard station there. At least they’ll have a telephone so we can
call somebody.”

  “Who’ll we call?” Meagan asked. “We can’t just call the FBI. We’re in Canada.”

  “Yeah.” Chris headed down to the cabin. “I wonder who handles terrorists up here.”

  Ted thought the question over. “It’s got to be the Coast Guard.” He followed Chris down the companionway hatch. “They have ships and helicopters. This is about sinking a cruise ship. They’re the ones to call.”

  “All right. Let’s pay for our fuel and get out of here.” Chris grabbed his wallet. “It’ll take us all day to get back to Port McNeil.”

  ****

  William and Mary Island, Canada

  “Hani, take Mohammed and Kalil and look for our intruders,” Qayyum said in Arabic. “They are slow and wind-bound. They can’t be far. Find them and stop them. Be back by sundown tomorrow. May Allah go with you.”

  Hani understood the orders, but Mohammed translated for Kalil.

  “Yasim, you monitor the radio,” Qayyum continued. “See if the kaffirs try to contact the authorities.”

  Hani headed to his boat to get her ready. He already thought of the Valkyrie as his boat.

  Mohammed and Kalil checked their AK-47 assault rifles.

  “Get a rocket launcher out of the storage shed.” Hani took command of the mission. He didn’t expect any resistance, but he wanted to be ready for any eventuality.

  On Hani’s command, Kalil fired up the engine while Mohammed went to the foredeck to haul in the anchor chain with the rusty windlass.

  “Weigh anchor,” Hani shouted down to the foredeck.

  Mohammed winched in the anchor and made it fast.

  With a smile of satisfaction, Hani put the boat in gear and headed down the bay.

  ****

  Queen Charlotte Strait, Canada

  Even though the Defiant sped along at seven knots in the fifteen knot winds it was much too slow for Ted. He bristled with impatience; this was not fast enough for this important mission.

  “Can’t you get any more speed out of her?” Ted asked. “Maybe fire up the engine?”

  “She sails faster than she motors.” Chris was enjoying the sail much too much for Ted’s taste.

  Gray, overcast skies had brought them a fair wind all the way from Echo Bay. They threaded the passages between islands until they were surrounded by green hills. A tiny break in the islands opened to the northwest.

  The Hole in the Wall, between Fox and Bonwick Islands, led to the Queen Charlotte Strait and open water. Port McNeil and civilization lay behind Malcolm Island, twenty miles across the Straits.

  “We can make Port McNeil before dark, if this wind holds.” Chris stood behind the wheel with one foot up on the cockpit coaming to accommodate the boat’s heeling.

  “When are your Dad and Candace going to be up here?” Meagan sat in her customary position in the lee of the cabin. “The Star of the Northwest isn’t going to stop up here anywhere are they?”

  “I think they’re scheduled to stop at Campbell River, then their next stop is Juneau.”

  “Can’t we call them and warn them?”

  Ted pulled his cell phone from his pocket and flipped it open. “Damn. Still no reception.”

  Chris’ eyes darted between the compass and the sails. “I don’t have any idea how to get hold of them.”

  “Would they even believe us?” Ted pondered how they should handle the situation. Warn the Canadian authorities? Call the cruise line? Call Homeland Security?

  “Sheet in the jib a little, will you?” Chris glanced at the wind vane on top of the mast. “I think the wind’s shifting on us.”

  Meagan cranked the winch. Inch by inch the sheets tightened and the Defiant picked up an almost imperceptible amount of speed.

  “I think we can make the Hole in the Wall without tacking,” Chris said.

  Ted’s pulse quickened as they approached the narrow opening between the islands. Híjole, is he really going to try to sail though that little hole?

  Gray cliffs dropped steeply to the water. The opening couldn’t be fifty yards wide.

  “There’s deep water all the way up to the shoreline.” Chris said. Taking a deep breath, he committed the Defiant to the narrow passage. The rocky ramparts loomed over them on both sides.

  Ted’s pulse quickened and his breath came in short, shallow gulps.

  The wind held steady. Time slowed down. Ted looked up at the sheer gray walls towering above him. The Defiant surged forward, they cleared the Hole in the Wall and the Defiant entered Phillips Passage. Ahead, Ted could see open sea.

  “Ease the sheets,” Chris ordered.

  Meagan responded and they dropped off onto a beam reach. The Defiant charged through the ocean swells like a thoroughbred.

  “Look, what’s that in the water?” Meagan reached for her camera.

  “Thar she blows!” Chris pointed. “It’s a whale. A humpie, I think.”

  “Yo, dude!” Ted forgot all about the narrow passage. “I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

  The giant creature surfaced less than half a mile from the boat. It lifted its huge head, blew its lungs clear, rolled over on one side and waved at them with flippers nearly as long as the Defiant, then sounded, its tail hanging momentarily in the air.

  “There he is again. Look at the spout.” Meagan danced up and down, the camera in her hand forgotten. The whale dove again, then broke the surface like a nuclear submarine doing an emergency surfacing drill.

  “Look at him!” Meagan shouted. “He’s standing on his tail.”

  Ted was stunned as the whale, all forty tons of it, leapt completely out of the water and stood on its tail for an instant, then plunged down in a gigantic belly flop. We sure don’t see anything like that back in the barrio.

  “Oh God. This is totally awesome.” Meagan finally raised the camera in her hand and clicked off a few shots, catching mostly the wave left by the whale.

  “What’s that beyond the whale?” Chris pointed towards the horizon.

  “It’s just another boat, dude.”

  “Doesn’t it look familiar to you?”

  Ted grabbed the binoculars and focused on the boat just emerging from Fife Sound.

  “Mierda. I think you’re right, dude. That’s the fishing boat.”

  “What fishing boat?” Meagan snatched the binoculars from Ted. “Oh shit. What do you think they want?” She spat out the words like a machine gun.

  “It can’t be good.” Chris said. “Why’d they be out here?”

  “I think we shouldn’t stick around and find out,” Ted said. “Maybe they found the crate you left open.” He turned to Chris. “Can you get any more speed out of this tub?”

  ****

  Fife Sound, Canada

  Every time he took the controls of the Valkyrie, Hani gained a little more confidence. She might be old and slow, but she was stable and predictable. It would have been absurd to send them in pursuit of a powerboat in this old sow, but she could out run a sailboat.

  Hani explained to Mohammed and Kalil that the blue sailboat’s most likely escape route was down Hornet Passage, then through Fife Sound and into open water in the Queen Charlotte Strait.

  He planned to overtake the sailboat in the Strait. Far from land, there would be less chance of witnesses. If they sank the boat in deep water no one would ever find it.

  It’s funny, though, I wasn’t thinking about the people. Only the boat. Yasim and Qayyum had drilled into them that they were fighting a monster, a machine. They must not think of them as people. They were the enemy, non-believers.

  So be it. They would sink the boat. If there were non-believers on board, it wouldn’t matter. The only thing that is important is the cause.

  “Hani,” Kalil shouted down from the crow’s nest atop the mast as they cleared Fife Sound and entered the Straits. “I see a sailboat. It’s blue.”

  Hani put the binoculars to his eyes. There it was. It must be about ten kilometers ahead of them. A blue sailboat with yel
low and white lettering on its side.

  Could there be two blue sailboats with their names painted on their sides way out here? Too much of a coincidence. This had to be the one.

  “Get your weapons ready” Hani shouted to Mohammed and Kalil. “We’ll run them down. When we get close, you and Mohammed can blow holes in their hull with your rifles. They’ll sink in minutes.”

  “We can’t leave survivors.” A smile spread across Mohammed’s face.

  “Shoot anything that floats.” Hani felt a tightening in his gut. “We may need to weigh the bodies down so they’ll sink. We have extra chain in the chain locker.”

  “Allah Akbar.” Mohammed shouted and raised his rifle above his head in a salute.

  Chapter 42

  The Queen Charlotte Strait

  Twenty miles of open water separated the Defiant from Malcolm Island and safety. A light mist hung in the air under the overcast sky. Somewhere behind them, the big green fishing boat disappeared into the haze. The mist and fog severely limited visibility. To port a ragged line of islands marked the end of the Queen Charlotte Strait, somewhere to starboard the next land was Japan. Ted knew the terrorists wouldn’t stop coming.

  The boat re-materialized out of the mist some five miles behind them.

  “Jesu Cristo! There he is.” Ted pointed at their pursuers.

  “Can we get away?” Meagan asked.

  “Our best bet is to try for Port McNeil.” Chris sounded confident enough, but his breath came in short gasps. “Maybe there’ll be enough boat traffic that they won’t try anything. Ted, sheet her in, I’m going to put the whip to her.”