by Stuart Woods
Pleased with himself, he went back to the stairs and started up. Then he stopped and remembered. On the other side of the engine room was yet another corridor of guest cabins. Shit. He’d have to check them.
He ran back down the stairs and was greeted by a good two feet of water at the bottom. He waded through the engine room to its other door and into the corridor, checking cabins on both sides. The last cabin on the port side was locked. He’d have to hurry now, because soon access to the forward stairs would be under water, and unless there was an aft way up, he’d be trapped. Already the angle of the deck told him the yacht was increasingly down by her bows. He was about to turn back when he thought he heard a noise over the roar of incoming water, a kind of thumping. He listened, then walked aft and listened again. It had stopped. He turned to leave, and it started again. He put his ear to the last port cabin, the one that was locked, and was rewarded with a thump. Someone was inside the cabin, and he had no idea where the key was.
He rammed his shoulder and all his weight against the door, but it didn’t budge. He put his back against the opposite side of the corridor, grabbed a handhold above his head, lifted his feet, and kicked with all his might at the lock. Again and again, he kicked, and suddenly the door burst open and water flooded from the corridor into the cabin. The lights were still working, and he hit the switch in the cabin. The lights flashed on, and Stone looked inside, stunned. A woman was lying on a berth, her hands bound with duct tape and her mouth taped as well. Her frightened eyes stared at him. She had been kicking the bulkhead at her feet.
“Arrington!” he shouted. He ran to her and yanked the tape from her mouth.
She made a noise of pain. “Stone! Dear God, how did you get here?”
“Never mind that,” he said, yanking at the tape that bound her wrists, “we’ve got to get out of here; the yacht is sinking!”
The tape came free; he grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward the cabin door. Then she stopped with a jerk.
“Wait,” she yelled over the roar of water, “my ankle!”
Stone looked down. He had seen such shackles a thousand times when moving prisoners, but this one was longer. One end closed around her right ankle; the other was attached to a U-bolt in a plate welded to the hull of the yacht. He remembered seeing it on his inspection, and now he knew what it was for. “Who has the key?” he shouted.
“The captain!”
“Oh, shit,” Stone said.
“What?”
“Let me think!” He thought. Dino would have a handcuff key on his key ring, he was sure of that. Almost. But he wouldn’t have time to run up three decks, get the key, then get back down before the lower deck was completely swamped and Arrington had drowned. He’d never make it. He had one other chance, though.
“Wait here,” he shouted, “I’ll be right back!”
“Don’t leave me here!” she screamed, clutching at him.
With difficulty, he pulled her hands away. “I’ve got to get something,” he said, then left her. He waded up the corridor to the engine room door, which stood open. The water here was waist deep now, and it was pouring through the doorway. Stone struggled against the current, using the yacht’s handholds. When he got through the engine room door and across the space, he took a deep breath and went under the water.
The engine room deckhead light was still on, but he could see nothing under the water. He felt along the deck, hoping against hope. Nothing. He came up, grabbed another few deep breaths, packing oxygen into his lungs, then submerged again.
He wanted the hammer and chisel, but he couldn’t remember where he had dropped them. Probably the rushing water had moved them around anyway. But his hand touched something else, and he grabbed at it, breaking the surface with the sledgehammer in his hands.
He waded quickly back down the corridor with the water above his waist and got back into the cabin with Arrington. “Get back on the bed,” he yelled, “and give me room!” Seeing the hammer in his hands, she obeyed him.
“Hurry!” she screamed.
Stone grabbed the chain to her ankle and followed it in the other direction, to the U-bolt. Pulling on the chain with his left hand, he swung the harnmer at the U-bolt with all his strength, but he was working under water, and the weight of the hammer had less effect than it would on the surface. He banged away at the bolt and its plate, hoping to God that it was spot-welded and not welded for the whole circumference of the plate.
“For Christ’s sake, Stone, hurry!” Arrington screamed. The water was up to her waist, since she was standing on the bed, but it was up to Stone’s neck.
He didn’t have the breath to answer her, he just kept on banging away at the U-bolt. Finally he dropped the chain, grabbed the hammer with both hands and swung it with all his might. He thought he felt something give. He felt underwater for the chain, grabbed it, and held it above the surface with the U-bolt and its plate dangling from the end. “I got it!” he screamed, and sea water came into his mouth.
Then the lights went out.
52
Stone grabbed Arrington and helped her down off the bed. They had to duck underwater to get through the door, which was now submerged, then surfaced in the corridor, and, half walking and half swimming, they made their way aft. The yacht was sinking much faster than Stone would have believed possible.
Gradually, as they moved toward the stern, the depth of the water decreased, since the yacht was down by the bows. Stone remembered that he had a flashlight in his pocket, and he stopped feeling his way and turned it on. Protected by its rubber covering, it still worked. “Do you remember a stairway back here anywhere?” he asked. The noise of the water coming in was less in the after part of the ship.
“No,” she said. “I was blindfolded when we came aboard.”
“There’s got to be a way up,” Stone said, half to himself. “It would be crazy to have only one set of stairs to all the decks.” He kept wading aft; the water was only waist-deep now.
“Where did you come from?” she asked. “How did you find me?”
“There’s a long answer to your first question,” he said. “I’ll tell you later. As to finding you, I had no idea whatever you were aboard. If you hadn’t been kicking the bulkhead, you’d still be in that cabin.”
“Thanks for telling me,” she said.
The light finally shone on what Stone had been looking for; a spiral staircase was only a few feet ahead. “There!” he shouted.
“Hurry!” she shouted back.
They started up the stairs, but then there was a rumble, and the yacht seemed to stand nearly on her head.
“What was that?” she asked.
“The door to the crew quarters must have given way,” Stone said, “and the water all rushed forward.”
They were now moving almost horizontally up the spiral staircase. They made the next deck and continued to move along, walking carefully on the curved banister risers.
“What do we do when we get out?” Arrington asked.
“Dino is waiting in a boat.”
“Dino? What the hell is he doing here?”
“We’ve all been very concerned about you.”
They finally emerged into the main saloon, which, like the rest of the yacht, was standing nearly on end.
“We’ve got to make that door,” Stone said, pointing above them. A round table was a few feet away, apparently bolted to the floor. “I think I can grab the pedestal,” he said. He stood on the banister of the nearly horizontal staircase, got an arm around the pedestal, and hoisted himself onto it.
From somewhere deep in the bowels of the big yacht there came a menacing rumble, and the ship began her final journey to the bottom. Water rushed at them from below as Stone got hold of Arrington’s wrist and pulled her up with him.
“It’s too far to the door,” he said. “We’ll never make that.”
“Look!” she cried. “The window.”
Stone followed her finger and saw a latch on the window a
few feet above her head. “Take my hand and steady me,” he said. “I think I can reach it if I stand on the edge of the tabletop.” He got one foot there and, holding on to Arrington, the other. He flipped the latch and tugged at the window. It slid open about two feet and stopped. The water level was rising fast now; it was up to their necks again, and climbing.
“We’re going to have to rise with the water,” Stone said. “Grab for the window and get yourself out. I’ll be right behind you.”
Then the yacht gave up the ghost and began sliding under the waves. The water engulfed them, but Stone kept the flashlight trained on the open window. Arrington slipped away from him, but he couldn’t see where. Then his shoulders were stuck in the open window. He pushed himself back inside the sinking yacht, stuck one arm through the window, then got his head, shoulder, and the other arm through. As he broke free, he pushed hard off the window sill and made for the air above.
He broke the surface with a shout, expelling all the air he had been saving, and began looking for Arrington.
“Stone, over here!” she called from behind him.
Stone turned and saw her being hauled into a rubber dinghy by two men; one of them was the captain of Contessa. Stone looked around for Dino and the black boat, but saw nothing. He made for the dinghy and grabbed the side.
The yacht’s skipper leaned over and looked at him. “You!” he shouted angrily.
Stone swung the flashlight at him and caught him full on the side of the head. The man fell backward and out the other side of the dinghy. Stone hoisted himself half into the rubber boat and saw the other crew member coming at him with an oar. He pushed himself back into the water, narrowly avoiding the swinging blade. When he broke the surface again, a few feet away, he heard the dinghy’s outboard start up. Arrington was struggling with the man now, as the rubber boat started to move away from Stone.
Then, like the cavalry, Dino showed up. He was drifting toward the dinghy in the black Whaler, and he had his flashlight in his hand. He swung it mightily and made contact with the back of the man’s head. The man fell overboard.
“Help me get them!” Stone yelled. “We can’t just let them drown!” He was already swimming around the dinghy. With Arrington’s and Dino’s help, he got both the unconscious men back into the dinghy. They stank of alcohol.
“Are they hurt badly, do you think?” Arrington asked.
“They’ll live,” Dino said. “What do you want to do with them, Stone?” He was holding the dinghy next to the Whaler.
Stone hoisted himself into the dinghy. “Arrington, get into the boat with Dino,” he said. He began unscrewing the outboard from the dinghy’s plywood transom. “Hurry up!” He got the outboard loose and dropped it overboard, where it joined Contessa, then he flung the oars as far away as he could, hopped into the Whaler, and got the engines started.
From the direction of the shore a large motorboat was headed toward them. “I hope that isn’t a Coast Guard cutter,” Stone said. He switched off the Whaler’s running lights, put the throttles forward a little, and motored slowly for fifty yards as a spotlight played on the water behind them. For another few hundred yards he increased speed slightly, hoping to keep the sound of his engines quieter than those aboard the approaching boat, then he pushed the throttles wide open and roared away toward the mainland. A few seconds later they were doing forty knots through the black night. “Everybody keep a lookout for other boats!” he shouted over the engines.
Dino took off his jacket and helped Arrington into it. “How are you?”
“Don’t ask!” she shouted back.
53
An hour later they had secured the boat, hosed it down with fresh water, and removed the tape from its identifying marks. In the car, Stone sat up front, while Dino drove and Arrington occupied the rear seat.
“You think we got out of there without being seen well enough to identify us?” Dino asked.
“The captain of Contessa recognized me.”
“That’s not good.”
“Somehow, I don’t think he’ll mention it to the police; he knows he’s involved in a kidnapping.”
“He’ll mention it to Ippolito.”
“Good. I don’t think Ippolito will mention it to the cops, either.”
“What about his insurance company? Those guys don’t give up easily.”
“The yacht wasn’t insured.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope, the skipper told me they had liability only. I guess Ippolito believes in self-insurance. I hope so.” Stone directed Dino onto the freeway, then used his phone to call the Bel-Air’s night manager. “Is the room next to my suite free?” he asked.
“I’ll check,” the woman said. “Yes, it’s available.”
“Will you please have the adjoining door to my suite unlocked? I’ll be needing the extra space.”
“Of course, Mr. Barrington.”
“Thanks; I’ll be there in a few minutes.” He hung up and turned to Arrington. “How are you doing?”
“I’m pretty wet, but apart from that, I’m okay. Aren’t you taking me home?”
“No, not yet; we’ll sort that out later. You look awfully tired.”
“I am,” she said, and she stretched out on the back seat. “Let me know when we’re there.”
Back at the hotel, they parked and got Arrington to Stone’s suite.
“Thanks, Dino; I’d better put her to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Not too early,” Dino said, and left.
Arrington was out on her feet. Stone got her wet clothes off and put her into a hot shower long enough to wash away the salt, then he put her into a terry robe and took her to the room next door. He turned down the bed and tucked her into it.
She put her arms around his neck and pulled him close. “Sleep here with me,” she said.
“I can’t,” he said. “You sleep; don’t think about anything, we’ll fix it tomorrow.”
But she was already out. He tucked the covers under her chin and went back to his own room. He took a shower and got into bed with a brandy, somehow unable to sleep. He dozed a little, and then it was dawn.
At six o’clock he called Vance Calder.
“Hello?” He seemed wide awake.
“Vance, I think you know who this is; don’t talk, listen. Do you remember where I’m staying?”
A pause. “Yes.”
“Get over here now; come through the back gate. I’ll be waiting.”
“Is it…”
“Shut up. Just get over here.” He hung up, and got into some clothes. When Vance drove up to the back gate, Stone was there to meet him. They walked up to Stone’s suite together.
“What’s going on, Stone? Why were you so careful on the phone?”
“For all I know, your lines are tapped; I wouldn’t put it past them.”
“What’s wrong? Has something happened to Arrington?”
“No. Arrington is asleep in the next room.”
Vance headed for the door, but Stone stopped him. “Don’t wake her; she’s had a rough night. Let’s have some breakfast.”
Vance finished his coffee and put down the cup. He had said little for the past hour; Stone had done all the talking. “Thank you, Stone,” he said finally. “What has Arrington had to say about…her experience?”
“Nothing; she was too exhausted.”
“It’s important that I talk to her before you do.”
“She’s your wife,” Stone said.
“I have some things to explain to her before you start asking her questions, as I know you will. Then you can ask your questions, and I’ll take her home.”
“I don’t think you should do that, Vance.”
“Why not?”
“Because this isn’t over by a long shot, and she may not be safe. I think it would be better if you arrange a suite here, move in, and not talk to anybody.”
Vance thought about that. “All right. I’d better go and get some clothes
for us both.”
“Good idea; I’ll talk to the manager. Come back here when you’re done, and don’t tell your staff where you’re going.”
Vance nodded, got up, and left.
Stone called the manager. “Thank you for the adjoining room,” he said. “Is there a suite on the other side of it?”
“Yes, there is.” He checked for a moment. “And it’s empty.”
“Please open it up and slide the key under my door.”
“Certainly, Mr. Barrington.”
“And please be sure to deny any knowledge of me. If any phone calls come in, say that I checked out this morning.”
“As you wish.”
Stone hung up. Arrington was standing in the doorway, naked.
She came to him and put her arms around him.
“Aren’t you cold?” he asked lamely.
She shook her head. “I was hot, so I took off the robe.”
“Did you sleep well?”
“I had some bad dreams.”
“I’m not surprised. Do you want some breakfast?”
“I want to make love to you.”
Stone wanted that, too, more than he had wanted anything for a long time. “Vance was just here,” he said. “He’s gone to get some clothes for the both of you, and he’s moving into the hotel until we get this figured out.”
She didn’t respond.
“I think you’d better be back in your room when he gets here.”
“All right.” She kissed him for a long time, then she turned and started for the door.
“Are you sure you don’t want some breakfast?”
“Maybe later.”
“I’ll send Vance in when he gets here.”
“All right.” She closed the door.
Stone wanted very badly to follow her, but he didn’t. He sat down weakly and put his face in his hands.
Vance arrived a few minutes later, loaded down with suitcases; he hadn’t bothered with a bellman.