by J. S. Law
He couldn’t have expected her to drop back towards him with such a violent response and one of her boots caught him cleanly in the face, forcing him to release her ankle.
Scrambling to get her feet back on the rungs, she hauled herself up. The adrenaline masked the pain as she scraped and banged herself against the metal surface of the submarine deck.
She didn’t look back. As soon as she felt the hard corrugated metal floor, she was up and running.
But the Coxswain was there too; he had climbed the ladder and moved expertly around, cutting her off by another route that Dan couldn’t see.
He was there now, standing across the walkway, blocking her approach to the next level.
She would have to pass him, or go near to him, to get to the aft escape platform, the place she needed to get to for help and to get off Tenacity. Behind her, the bulk of the main engines and gearbox sat centrally, the squared walkway running all the way around them in an unbroken loop. She headed away from him and then stopped and waited, looking back.
He realised his dilemma, she could see it dawn on him. He would have to chase her if he wanted to catch her, but if she made it around the walkway ahead of him, she could escape; they were like children playing a deadly game of tag, facing off around a huge kitchen table.
Dan thought for a second and then screamed.
That made the Coxswain smile. His face was already swelling and blood was dripping down from a deep cut above his nose. His mouth looked cavernous as he opened it to speak and Dan wondered if she had knocked out some teeth during the fight.
‘Scream away,’ he snarled, the words mumbled and thick, obviously difficult to enunciate through the swelling and blood. ‘Seventy-six bulkhead’s been shut down. No one’ll be listening.’
Dan’s eyes flitted past him and through the gaps in machinery towards the bulkhead; he was right. She was locked in here with him; her only possible exit was the ladder she’d entered by.
From behind the Coxswain came a sound.
Someone was descending the ladder from the casing down onto the aft escape platform, the same one that Dan had used. She knew if it was Ryan Taylor, then she was done for. They’d simply cover both escape paths and have her.
From where she stood, she could see the legs and then the body, and finally the shoulders and head of someone descending.
Dan shouted again. ‘Help me!’
The Coxswain spun around and together they saw Aaron Coles as he turned, his mouth dropping open as he saw the two of them. His eyes were wide as he took a few paces towards the platform, taking in Dan and the Coxswain, his expression one of complete confusion.
‘What the fuck?’ he said, looking around at them both.
‘Aaron,’ she shouted. ‘Stay away from him.’
Aaron looked at her, his face still a mask of shock and horror.
‘Jesus,’ he said slowly, looking at the Coxswain. ‘What the fuck has she done to your face?’
In that instant Dan knew how wrong she’d been, how far from the truth her intuition had led her. She felt like she lacked the strength to even stand, and she sank slowly onto the deck. The hard metal met her knees and hands in turn, and she flinched as she felt her ribs begin to ache. Her hands were scraped and bruised from running through this colander-like environment and she became aware of other pains too. One hand was bleeding from a cut between her fingers where the skin had ripped a good few centimetres deep without her even noticing. She looked up at the two men and saw the shapes and colours that made up the picture slowly move into focus. This wasn’t the work of a pair, any pair – moving the quantity of drugs that she had seen in the lower levels required more than two. She had been so concerned at seeing another pairing, at seeing another Hamilton, that she’d failed to see what was in front of her. The words Ryan had said to her the night before came back slowly, ‘There’s a load of them boxers on Tenacity. Known each other for years.’ And she saw the pictures from Walker’s house, the boxing trophies and awards; the ones in the Old Man’s cabin, the faces of the boxing team younger but recognisable; the ones mounted in the hallway at Ben and Ryan’s house. Everywhere she looked they were there, the faces of a group within the group.
‘You get Ryan?’ she heard the Coxswain ask, his speech still distorted.
‘Yeah, little bastard served his purpose,’ said Aaron. ‘Sneaking her in here wasn’t his worst idea. We’ll sort him out later.’
‘He know what’s going to happen?’
‘Nah, he’s happy.’
The Coxswain nodded. ‘Can you get her?’ He pointed over towards Dan. ‘I’m in a bad way.’
He touched his nose and then brought his hand down, covered in fresh blood. ‘I’m going to pull her apart with fucking pliers when we get there.’
Aaron looked over towards Dan and nodded, almost sighing. ‘Yeah, I’ll get her.’
He started towards her, the Coxswain behind him, leaning over now, using the top of the engine room ladder to steady himself.
‘Come on, Dan,’ Aaron said.
He spoke as though he was a buddy, helping an old friend to her feet after a long day-hike somewhere pleasant.
Dan watched him and shook her head. She couldn’t even ask ‘Why?’ There was no answer that would work for her.
He offered to help her to her feet.
‘You know, you’re a tough nut to crack, Dan,’ he said, reaching down when she didn’t accept his hand and pulling her to her feet by the scruff of her jacket. ‘I lost a few hundred quid on Bag the Gremlin because you wouldn’t spread your legs for me.’
She looked up at him, tall and handsome, chatting to her as though they were discussing some loose change that they had lost on a good night out together. She slumped; too exhausted to fight when the odds seemed insurmountable.
‘How we going to get her out of here?’ asked the Coxswain, still gently dabbing at his face.
Aaron looked down at her and pursed his lips. ‘I guess we’re going to have to walk her out.’
He leaned down towards Dan, his lips close to her ear.
‘Can you be quiet? Or will I have to cut your fucking tongue out?’ he asked. ‘I’m being very serious, Dan.’
‘I think we should. She’ll only want to be starting shouting when we get up top, and my face is going to be needing some explaining too; we need her to be silent,’ said the Coxswain.
‘Can you be silent, Dan?’ asked Aaron. ‘Is that something you can do?’
Dan ignored him, looking away.
She didn’t see the punches coming as Aaron threw two powerful shots into the left side of her mid-section, expertly aimed from the much bigger man.
Dan felt as though she’d been cut in half, her feet actually clearing the floor before she dropped straight to her knees and then to her stomach on the metal deck. She was coughing and wheezing, struggling again to get air in or out of her lungs.
‘You know the difference between Hamilton and me?’ asked Aaron. ‘See, if he’d beat the shit out of you before he did the talking, then he’d be free and you’d be in the ground somewhere. Not a mistake I’ll be making.’
He reached down and used her jacket to turn Dan over onto her back. He drew back his hand to punch her in the face, when the Coxswain, Jago Maddock, stepped forward.
‘Let me,’ he said. ‘Fuck knows I’m deserving of it.’
Aaron shrugged and stepped aside.
‘I’ll start bringing up the stuff, then; you can ensure our lovely Danielle is consciously compliant before we leave.’ He looked at Jago until he was sure that the Coxswain was paying attention. ‘Remember, she has to walk.’
The Coxswain nodded and turned back to Dan as Aaron started to walk away, moving down towards the safe in the engine rooms below.
The Coxswain raised his hand.
Dan saw Aaron look back at her, smile and wave as though they were neighbours passing on the way to their cars, and then his head dropped out of sight as he took the ladder down into the engi
ne rooms.
‘I’ll walk,’ said Dan, still gasping for breath, the pain in her side so intense that she couldn’t move her arm away from it. ‘You don’t need to do it, I’ll walk.’
The Coxswain paused, seemed to think for a moment, and then punched her anyway.
In the stars and numbness that followed, Dan wondered whether she was conscious or unconscious. She remembered lying in the woods on a hill near Portsmouth. She’d been beaten then too, but she’d survived. She thought about her sabbatical year, alone, running away from those that loved her as she clung on to the memories given to her by someone who’d hated her.
In her crappy cabin in Devonport Wardroom, only a few hundred metres from where she was now, she’d had the files showing what these men had done to Cheryl Walker, had done to Cheryl for money. Two children would now live with their grandparents, would never feel love from their mum and dad again, for money.
As the Coxswain raised his hand again, Dan thought of her dad, Taz Lewis, and imagined the look on his face if he saw her lying here now, defeated and beaten. She thought about the letter from him, still unopened on the desk in her cabin, and about the year she’d been without him, the very year she needed him the most.
‘Jago,’ Dan said. ‘Wait, Jago. I’ll tell you what Ryan told me, what he’ll tell the police when they get him. Just don’t hit me again.’
The Coxswain paused.
Dan was watching him out of one eye, the other starting to swell closed. She was sure that her depth perception would be way off as she watched him lean forward.
‘I’m listening,’ he said, his voice thick.
Dan waited and watched, gathering her breath to speak, knowing she had to have one last burst of fight inside her.
As his face came down towards her, within arm’s length, she reached out, the pain excruciating on her left side, and grabbed at his shirt with both hands.
He over-balanced for a second, leaning further down, and Dan smashed her forehead onto the bridge of his already broken nose as hard as she was able to.
He grunted and sagged down further towards her, and Dan butted him again, hearing a sickening thud, crack and squelch as she inflicted more damage onto his face.
She pulled him down as he slumped towards her, rolling him over, and letting go with one hand so that she could force her thumb into his eye.
He squealed, scrabbling to roll away from her, the sound sending a shiver down Dan’s spine, piercing the adrenaline and focus of her attack.
Then, she was up and running, heading for the ladder that would take her out of the submarine.
Metallic echoes sounded around her, sounds that could only have been Aaron hurrying back up from the lower level.
The Coxswain was shouting, his words jumbled and indistinguishable.
Dan stumbled, her legs heavy, her vision blurred. She looked up towards the submarine’s engine room hatch and the darkness outside. The black night was something that had for so long meant only fear to Dan and now meant life and freedom; she climbed one-handed, her left arm clutched by her side, not able to raise it above shoulder level, and pulled herself up onto the hard, cold casing.
The metal ladder shook behind her as boots rattled against the rungs.
Dan stood up, stumbling and trying to orientate herself.
The aft gangway was only a few paces away and she moved towards it, only looking up as she heard someone speak.
‘What the fuck?’
She looked up and focused on the speaker.
A few feet away from her, the Chief Stoker was crossing the gangway towards her.
Dan screamed. A loud cry for help that she was sure would be heard, but she was taking no chances, had come this far and couldn’t quit now. She turned away from the gangway and headed forward, towards the large conning tower that rose from the top of the submarine.
There was a narrow path around it, one she’d seen the Old Man skirt round the first time she had visited Tenacity.
Dan knew it could be done and knew there were sailors on the other side of it, that all of them couldn’t possibly be involved.
She rushed forward, not glancing back as she was sure she was joined on the casing by one of her attackers from the engine room. She heard an exchange of words, men shouting, but she focused on moving forward.
The conning tower was there and she touched the slippery metal surface with her right hand, running it along the slick black paint. The path narrowed as she followed it out towards the sloping side of the submarine.
A handrail ran around it at waist height, thick and cold, and Dan found it and gripped it in her good hand. She began to use it to hold herself tight against the conning tower as she edged around it in the dark, the footway narrowing further as she went.
He was there, a shape pursuing her that had now moved within grabbing distance. It was Jago Maddock, his face awash with blood and twisted in rage as he lunged for her. His fingers grazed her shoulder, missing their grip but sending a message; this chase was almost over.
As she felt him move closer, Dan inhaled deeply and pushed off the conning tower, driving herself backwards into space and falling away from the sloping hull.
‘Man overboard!’ she shouted, with what was left of her energy.
She seemed to float in the air for a few moments, before the black, freezing water of the Hamoaze swallowed her up.
The cold hit her harder than the water, pushing the air out of her body and numbing every one of her muscles. She heard shouting, more voices, and briefly saw two men fighting on the casing, before they too disappeared, a loud splash telling Dan that they had now followed her in to the dark, cold water.
She heard the general alarm being sounded; three loud blasts from the klaxon.
‘MAN OVERBOARD – MAN OVERBOARD. MAN OVERBOARD STARBOARD SIDE. DUTY WATCH, DUTY FIRST AIDER CLOSE UP.’
There was a commotion in the water near to her, voices in the heat of a fight, and the cold was spreading in to Dan’s body and muscles, her head starting to lie lower in the water as she struggled to keep afloat.
The water was lapping around her mouth, nose and eyes now and her head was lolling back. Dan knew she needed to get her boots off, to shed some clothes, but the cold was everywhere, and in her mind, she started to wonder if it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to go to sleep now, to relax and breathe deeply.
Another splash, smaller, controlled; someone had entered the water and was swimming towards her.
Dan looked, forcing her good eye to open when it so badly wanted to close, and saw the Chief Stoker swimming in her direction.
How could she fight against these odds? She felt no terror now, just resignation. Her dad could be proud that she’d done her best, given it her all, hadn’t quit until she’d had absolutely nothing left; she had pushed forward, maintaining momentum, until there was nowhere else to go.
The Chief Stoker was talking to her, but as her face began to drop below the surface, she couldn’t make out what he was saying.
Then he had her and Dan waited to be pushed under, to be held there until she could finally sleep.
‘Crazy bitch,’ she heard him say, her face breaking the surface. ‘Fuck.’
He was dragging her up, holding her in the air.
‘Fucking kick,’ he shouted. ‘Come on, kick your legs.’
Dan’s eye opened and she felt herself being turned onto her back.
‘Here!’ he was shouting. ‘Over here!’
Dan winced as a bright light shone on her.
Then another light caught her eye. A first glimpse of flashing blue, the distinctive colour bouncing off every surface, penetrating the night. Then she felt her consciousness drain away.
Chapter 39
Friday Morning – 17th October 2014
‘Still no sign of Ryan Taylor?’ asked Dan.
She was standing in Roger Blackett’s office looking out of the window. Tenacity was still alongside, visible through the other window off to her left, but now
she was looking out along the main drag, watching John Granger walking along it with her father beside him. Dan couldn’t help but notice how small John looked next to her dad’s hulking frame, and John was a big man. She thought how if she were there too, she would be like the last of the Russian dolls, the little one with nothing else inside it that comes right at the end.
Her dad had driven down from Scotland as soon as Roger had called him, dressing quickly, grabbing his keys and leaving the house while he was still on the phone. He hadn’t packed and, according to Roger, had phoned Dan’s stepmother, Jean, who was still asleep in bed, to let her know he’d left the house and would be gone for a few days. Dan’s sister, who’d also received a call after the fact, was unequivocal that he would pay for this upon his return; both women were angry that they weren’t able to join him on the drive down south.
His arrival had caused a short, semi-kerfuffle in Dan’s hospital room. He had met Roger, the two friends embracing, and then he’d met John, who’d stayed all through the previous night with Dan, even as she’d slept.
Felicity had ushered everyone else out of the room and for the first time in her life, Dan had seen tears in her dad’s eyes as he’d looked down at her.
Dan thought she remembered saying ‘please don’t hug me; everything hurts’ to him, but couldn’t be sure she hadn’t dreamt it.
Since then her dad had been with her constantly. He’d stayed at the hospital with her until she was discharged and had driven her home, opting to sleep on the sofa in her sitting room downstairs. In the last week he’d cooked dinner every night, painted three rooms, unpacked most of her belongings from their storage boxes and rebuilt the majority of her furniture. Next he was planning on laying new laminate flooring throughout the downstairs for her; he was driving her crazy.
Today he’d accompanied her into the base, handing her over to Roger like a delicate baton in a smothering relay race, and been persuaded to go for a walk around the dockyard with John while Dan dealt with some work.