The Inside Passage (Ted Higuera Series Book 1)

by Pendelton Wallace

  “Chris.” Meagan pulled at Chris’ wrist. “Don’t you think we’ve done enough? Maybe we’re in over our heads. Maybe we should just go home before someone really gets hurt.”

  “No way.” Ted couldn’t let them give up. “If they’re after the Star of the Northwest, Chris’ dad is on that boat. We can’t let them do anything that’d hurt him.”

  “Yeah, and Sarah too,” Chris said. “We’ve got to make sure it’s safe. Whatever Jack’s sending us should help. He said he knew people.”

  Chapter 56

  William and Mary Island, Canada

  “I don’t like not knowing our escape plan.” Ahmad trudged to the storage shed with Hani, Mohammed and Kalil. Fog swirled through the tree tops above them.

  The four began loading SAM missiles and AK-47s into the back of the old pickup.

  “What if something happens to Yasim?” Ahmad hoisted a wooden case into the truck bed. The sun tried valiantly to break through. “Who’ll know how to get us out of there?”

  “Qayyum says that the plan is made,” Kalil replied, shoving in a case of his own. “That should be enough for you.”

  “And how about Qayyum?” Ahmad asked as they returned to the shed for another load. “Why isn’t he going with us? I heard he’ll leave the island on the inflatable after we go.”

  “Maybe he’s preparing our escape route,” Mohammed lifted a heavy case of ammunition. “Maybe he needs to contact other operatives to tell them the mission is on. He’s been coming and going the entire time we’ve been on the island.”

  They loaded the truck and drove it down the crude logging road to the bay. With a ton of ordinance behind him, Ahmad caught his breath each time they hit a rut or a pot hole.

  The heavy forest fell away at the rocky shoreline. Sand pulled at Ahmad’s boots as they reversed the process on the beach and unloaded their gear onto the SeaLander. Hani ferried it out to the Valkyrie to stow. Their preparation took most of the day.

  The Exocet was the most difficult job. They hoisted the nearly two-thousand pound missile onto the truck and strapped it down. Kalil took extra care on the rough road. At the beach, they used the tripod and block and tackle to hoist it onto the SeaLander. Seagulls circled overhead, squawking, indifferent to the deadly drama below them.

  Although Yasim had assured them that there was no chance of the missile exploding without the detonator, they were sweating and nervous by the time Hani brought the SeaLander alongside the Valkyrie.

  Loading the missile into the homemade launcher was no easy task. The boom and winches on board the fishing boat were more than adequate to lift the load, but maneuvering the missile into the launcher required precision.

  “It’s done.” Ahmad wiped the sweat from his brow. Not a breath of air stirred in the bay. He looked out over the still water. “Now I have to arm the missile and test the guidance system.”

  ****

  Double Bay, Canada

  A ray of sunlight struck Ted’s eyes. He grimaced and pulled a pillow over his head. Behind him in the galley, he heard the unmistakable sound of the coffee grinder. Can’t they just sleep in another half hour?

  The companionway hatch slid open and Chris’ feet appeared on the ladder. Shit, I guess the day’s beginnin’.

  “I thought you’d like some coffee.” Meagan pushed down the handle on the French press. “It must have been totally chilly out there all night.”

  “I froze my damned ass off.” Chris took a steaming mug from Meagan.

  “Anything else happen last night?” She asked.

  “No, it was quiet.” Chris was too damned awake for this early in the morning.

  “Damn, I can’t sleep with all that racket.” Ted fought his way to full consciousness. As usual, Oscar was curled up in a ball on his chest. “What time is it?”

  Chris glanced at this wrist watch. “A little before seven.”

  “Well, we got time for breakfast before Jack’s package arrives.” Ted gently shoved the cat aside, extracted himself from his berth and pulled on his jeans. “What do you guys want?”

  “Random.” Meagan mocked surprise. “You’re not only volunteering to cook, you’re taking requests?”

  “Yeah, it was a rough night. I thought I’d be easy on you.”

  “Well, in that case, French toast.” Meagan said. “Coffee’s already done.”

  The chica was just as perky as her boyfriend this morning.

  After breakfast Meagan stepped into the galley and started cleaning up. “Whoa!” Ted teased. “Since when do you do dishes?”

  “Well, no one else was getting up. If you were a gentleman, you’d have already volunteered to do them.”

  “Yeah,” Ted said. “Well, last night I could see that you weren’t no gentleman neither.” No one appreciated Ted’s humor more than Ted himself.

  “Degenerate.” Meagan snapped Ted with the end of the towel and returned to her work smiling.

  Meagan finished the dishes and Chris did his morning check of the boat.

  They heard the buzz of an engine in the distance. “You hear that?” he asked. “It sounds like a plane.” He slid the companionway hatch open and bounded up the stairs.

  The strengthening sun began to dissipate the light morning mist. In the daylight Ted got a better view of the harbor. Nearly landlocked, the bay cut deep into the north shore of Hanson Island. Firs climbed the steep slope from the shoreline to the crest, a couple of hundred feet above him.

  At low tide, in broad daylight, he saw the litter of rocks at the bay’s entrance. How stupid was that? They had picked their way through the rock pile in the dark. Was Chris that good or that lucky?

  “There it is.” Meagan, who came on deck after him, pointed towards the southeast.

  Ted saw a small dark speck moving rapidly towards them. It grew into a red and white Cessna 180 float plane. The plane buzzed the cove, waggling its wings.

  “That must be him. He’s telling us that he’s landing.” Chris dropped the swim steps into the water. “Get in the dinghy. Let’s be ready for him.”

  “Chris. Are you sure it’s the right plane?” Meagan stood rooted to the deck. “Remember what Yves said about his crew? That each one of them had a specialty?”

  “Yeah. So what?”

  “Madame Trufaunt.” Meagan’s flashed Chris a pleading look. “That crazy French lady. He said she could fly anything with wings. What if it’s her? They know that we’re here, they cut our anchor line last night.”

  “Oh shit. Now what do we do?”

  “Get in the dinghy, dude.” Ted stepped onto the swim steps. “We don’t get close to that plane ‘til we can see who’s flyin’ it. If it is the bitch, we get out of here, pronto. We’re a lot faster and more maneuverable in the dinghy. On the boat we’re sittin’ ducks.”

  They donned their life jackets and followed Ted down into the dinghy. Chris pulled the cord on the outboard. It fired right up.

  “Cast off,” Chris ordered.

  Ted untied the painter from the Defiant and settled into his seat in the bow.

  They watched the Cessna fly back out over the Straight and approach the cove from the north with its flaps down. It glided lower and slower, until the floats kissed the water. At first, they threw up a fine spray. Then, as the weight of the plane settled on the floats, large rooster tails trailed behind them. The red tips of the propeller made a solid ring around the front of the plane.

  It was a beautiful sight, but was it bringing safety or danger?

  The plane slowed to a near stop and taxied toward the cove. Working through the rocky entrance, the plane made its way to the center of the cove and cut its engine. Ted’s heart was in this throat.

  Chris kept them off the plane’s left wing, keeping the dinghy between the plane and the bay’s entrance. If they had to run, they would be able to escape to open water.

  Ted’s felt his pulse pounding in his ears.

  “Can you tell who’s in that plane yet?” Chris asked.

 
; “It’s okay, Chris.” Meagan let out a sign of relief. “There’s some guy flying it.”

  “Cuidado, dude,” Ted spoke quietly, in spite of the roar of the outboard. “We don’t know who this guy is. He could still be one of Yves’ flunkies.”

  Chris cautiously motored the dinghy up to the pilot’s door

  “Other side, friend,” the pilot shouted over the grumble of the outboard, motioning with his hand.

  Chris worked the dinghy around to the other side of the plane.

  Ted was astonished to see Jack slowly lower himself down the steps and onto the float.

  “There yez are, children. Come pick up ol’ Jack.”

  “Jack,” Chris shouted. “What the hell are you doing here? I thought you said you were sending us a package.”

  “I was, lad. I did. I’m the package.”

  Chris and Ted held the dinghy tight to the float while Jack reached into the plane’s cabin and retrieved a canvas bag, then handed it down to Meagan.

  “Take this, Lass.”

  “Jeeze, Jack.” Meagan accepted the bag and set it on the floor boards. “That’s heavy, what’s in here? Bricks?”

  “No, darlin’. Winnie.”

  “Winnie?”

  Jack took Meagan’s hand and stepped painfully down into the dinghy. He waved to the pilot, then seated himself on the center thwart next to Meagan. Ted pushed the dinghy away from the float and Chris opened the throttle. The roar of the outboard cut off further conversation. Meagan put her hands around Jack’s arm and nuzzled her head into his shoulder.

  Chris turned the dinghy around and headed back to the Defiant.

  ****

  Ted followed Chris up the Defiant’s swim steps while the float plane taxied out of the bay. He turned to see Jack grab hold stiffly and tug himself up. Meagan, standing in the dinghy behind him, put her hands on Jack’s hips and helped the old man.

  “’Tis a sad day when ol’ Jack needs the help of a charmin’ young lass to board a boat.”

  “Oh, come on, Jack. You just wanted me to feel you up.” Meagan bounded up the ladder behind him.

  “I have news for yez, children. It’s not good.” Jack and Meagan sat in the cockpit while Chris secured the dinghy and Ted raised the swim step. As the float plane disappeared into the distance, the quiet of a tomb settled over the bay. “There was a video on TV last night. A group of Arab terrorists beheaded two poor fishermen. The authorities dinna ken who they were or where they were, but they played the whole thing on CBC.”

  “Oh my God!” Meagan’s hand went to her throat. “That could have been us.”

  Ted turned from the swim step so fast that he almost lost his balance. These guys must be for real. If they’d behead a couple of fishermen, then they wouldn’t hesitate to use that missile to blow up a cruise ship. “Shit . . . you mean like on the videos from Iraq?” Ted’s voice was hushed and slow.

  “There’s more.” Jack’s voice dropped. “I asked an ol’ friend of mine, a helicopter pilot, to take a run up to William and Mary Island to see what was goin’ on. I was talkin’ to him on the phone when he said they fired a SAM at him. Then the phone went dead. I think they got him.”

  “Oh, Jack.” Meagan’s voice cracked. “I’m so sorry.” She squeezed Jack’s hand.

  Chris gulped. “Was he close, Jack?”

  “Aye, Laddie. We go all the way back to ‘Nam.”

  Viet Nam? Ted tossed that around in his head. Jack is way too old to have been in Viet Nam. That’s Papa’s era. “Who are these guys?” Ted asked.

  “I dinna ken yet, but I do know they’re a bad lot. They’ve murdered at least three people. They wouldna hesitate to kill more to accomplish their objective.”

  They sat in the cockpit, motionless, as they absorbed Jack’s words. The light mist hung in the still morning air.

  Chris finally spoke. “What do you think their objective is?”

  “I think y’ three had it right. I think they’re ginna sink a cruise ship. My friend said that they had a big steel box on the after deck of a fishin’ boat. I think that’s a launch platform for the Exocet missile.”

  Ted pictured the cruise ship exploding. He could see Harry, Candace and Sarah flailing in the cold, green water.

  “I already lost Mom.” Chris straightened his back, balled his fists. “I’ll be damned if I let these sons a bitches get Dad and Sarah too.”

  “I dinna ken how many missiles they have.” Jack interrupted Chris. “Did y’ see more than one?”

  “No.” Chris’ eyes looked up and to the right. He was accessing his amazing memory. “There was only the one big crate. All of the other crates were small.”

  “Good, if they only have one missile, they have t’ get real close t’ make sure they get a hit. Those things are notoriously unreliable.”

  “Unreliable?” Meagan’s face scrunched up.

  “Yes, darlin’. They dinna have a good track record, but I wouldna want to be on the receivin’ end of the one that does work.”

  “What’re we going to do?” Ted asked.

  “We’ll do whatever it takes.” A sharp edge tinged Chris’ voice.

  “We’ll meet the Star of the Northwest, Laddie. We have to stop her from comin’ out of Johnstone Strait. That’s where they’ll attack. It’s the narrowest point on their passage. There’s no room t’ maneuver. A cruise ship there would be a sittin’ duck.”

  Meagan shifted her weight and bumped against Jack’s bag. ““Ow. What’s in this thing anyway?”

  “Oh, an ol’ friend of mine.” Jack unzipped the bag and started producing pieces of a gun.

  It looked vaguely familiar. “What the hell is that?” Ted asked.

  “Crew, I’d like yez to meet Winnie. Winifred Maxwell. Named for the Countess of Nithsdale, who freed her husband from the Tower of London. She’s been with me since Korea.” Jack started to assemble the weapon.

  Chris’ face lit up. “Ít’s a Sten gun.”

  “I hate guns.” Ted stared at the ugly weapon.

  “Well, Lad, Winnie has seen me out o’ more than one tight spot.”

  “What is it?” Meagan asked. “I’ve never seen a gun like that before.”

  “It’s like you see in the World War II movies.” Chris said. “I used to watch them with my Dad when I was a kid. It’s the kind of gun British commandos used.”

  “Aye. I told y’ children that I’d been a pirate. I just failed to mention that it was at Her Majesty’s Service.”

  “What’re you talking about?” Ted eyes locked on the ominous looking assault weapon.

  “After the war, I left the Royal Navy for a spell. I worked on merchant ships as an able seaman. The life dinna appeal to me. Soon I found myself signed up for the SAS.”

  “SAS?” Meagan asked.

  “The Special Air Service,” Chris said. “It’s like our Delta Force.”

  “Aye. I saw action in Korea, Crete, Cyprus, the Middle East and Viet Nam before they beached me.”

  “Wow, you were a regular James Bond.” Meagan’s eyes widened.

  “No, not really. I was just a humble soldier in Her Majesty’s Service. But this old gun has been with me for over fifty years. Where we’re goin’ we might need a little protection and Winnie’s the best.”

  Ted stared in awe as Jack expertly put the disassembled sub-machine gun together. Although the years and arthritis had slowed his once quick movements, Jack deftly attached the frame stock, the barrel, and slid a long clip of ammunition into the left side of the weapon.

  “I dinna think we’ll need the silencer for this kind of work.” Jack returned the black metal cylinder to his canvas bag. “It makes the barrel heat up and the gun jam.”

  “We don’t need any gun for this kind of work.” Ted stood and stepped back from Jack. “I grew up in East LA. I know. You have those things around, somebody’s gonna get hurt.”

  Jack ignored Ted. “Here’s m’ plan, children. We’re goin’ t’ sail out into the mouth of Johnstone Straits
and wait for the Star of the Northwest. She’ll be there tomorrow mornin’. When she arrives, we’ll contact the captain, make him talk to us. We’ll tell him about the terrorists and have him turn the ship around until the JTF2 can round them up.”

  Thank God. He had a plan. For the first time in days, Ted felt a sense of hope. It all made sense. They could stop the cruise ship, the Mounties could catch the bad guys and they all could get on with their lives. “Ted thinks we don’t need a gun for that.”

  “Y’ never know, Lad. The terrorists could find the wee ship first. Things could get hot. It’s better to be prepared than to be prayin’.”

  Chapter 57

  William and Mary Island, Canada

  3:56 am

  The black inflatable boat was virtually invisible in the dark. The huge outboard motor was so muffled that it was only audible for a few feet.

  As the inflatable ran up on the beach, six heavily armed men in black fatigues leapt from the boat. They each grabbed a handle and dragged the boat up the beach and into cover. Shadows moving through the night, they gathered their gear and started up the trail without a word.

  They moved with crisp, military precision. With night vision goggles, they operated as if in broad daylight. Their leader gave all commands by hand signals. They turned off the trail and into the heavily forested area. Slipping soundlessly through the dense brush, they worked their way steadily up hill.

  At the clearing on top of the hill, the leader held up his fist. The men froze in place. A twisted piece of metal lay on the ground at his feet. He turned it over with his foot.

  “Helicopter blade,” he whispered.

  The leader and his subordinate moved stealthily nearer the buildings. When he was satisfied that there were no sentries, he pointed two fingers at a pair of men and then gestured to his right. He pointed two fingers at the other two men and sent them to the left. While he and his partner provided cover, four dark-clad men disappeared into the complex.