Gripping the pistol, he cautiously ascended the built-in stairwell on the starboard side of the stern bulkhead. The stairs connected with the main deck on level three—the deck where most of the ship’s activity occurred.
As Yuri stepped upward, he issued orders to himself: Keep your head down and watch for movement.
* * *
After the sentry repeated his warning, Pyotr and Fredek retreated, maintaining their cover as drunks. They were halfway down the dock, still stumbling and muttering gibberish.
Nick maintained his surveillance. The immense Asian kept his eyes on the retreating pair for several minutes before returning to his perch on the main deck. The other sentry stood fast until the disturbance subsided before fading into the shadows near the stern.
Nick checked his watch. The distraction lasted just over five minutes. He hoped it was long enough for Yuri to sneak aboard the yacht.
* * *
Yuri crept forward, crouched down along the portside bulwark of the main deck. He’d just passed the grand salon and was opposite the dining room. He took an instant to peer through a window. Subdued interior lighting revealed both compartments were vacant. The side deck ended amidships with a companionway—stairwell—that ascended to the next deck. Adjacent to the stairs a hatchway opened into the main deck’s interior. He worked the door handle, but it would not open.
Now what?
His goal was to reach the bow section one level below his present location. But that was impossible. Two choices remained. Backtrack to the aft deck and try another route along the starboard side of the main deck, or take the stairs to the upper level and search for another way inside.
Yuri climbed the stairs to the fourth level—the owner’s deck. Opposite the stairs was a door that led to the interior. He was about to try the handle when he noticed movement from the bow. He retreated into an alcove, pressing his back against a bulkhead.
Someone was walking his way. A guard, he suspected.
Yuri stuffed the pistol inside his wetsuit jacket and rearmed with the dive knife. His training flashed into focus: Attack from the rear. Use the free hand to muffle the mouth while repeatedly stabbing between the base of the neck and the collarbone.
Yuri’s heart accelerated. He was on automatic kill.
An errant breeze blew cigarette smoke his way.
Steady. He’s coming.
The nightwalker strolled into view, the glowing tip of a cigarette leading the way.
Now!
Yuri lunged forward and cupped his gloved hand over the mouth, pulling the slender body back into the alcove. Just as was he was about to strike home with the knife he spotted the long blond hair.
What the hell?
He wrestled the victim to the deck, pinning the struggling form to the planking with his bulk. During that maneuver, the individual’s robe parted, revealing a naked female.
With his hand still clamped over her mouth and the knife poised to shred arteries, Yuri leaned forward so his lips were just an inch from her right ear. “If you want to live,” he whispered in Russian, “stop resisting or I’ll gut you right here.”
Elena complied at once.
CHAPTER 74
“Where’s Laura?”
Elena lay on her back with her bathrobe open. “Down below—the lower deck is what I think they call it. She’s in a cabin near the bow.”
Yuri kneeled over her, straddling her waist with his thighs while holding the knife against her throat.
“How do I get there?”
“There’s a lift—that’s the only way I know.”
They spoke in whispers and in Russian.
“Where?”
“Inside this deck near the middle. I’ll take you there.”
“What about guards?”
“What do you mean?”
“Where’s the guard for this deck—I saw guards below.”
“They are not allowed on this level when I’m with Chi in his private quarters.”
“Chi?”
“Kwan Chi—the owner.”
“Where’s he right now?”
“Sleeping.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I just left his bed. I couldn’t sleep and decided to have a smoke.”
Elena’s admission did not faze Yuri. He continued the interrogation.
“How many people are on this boat?”
“I don’t know—maybe ten or so. Chi told me that most of the crew left already, something about a crew change in a day or two.”
“Are they all Chinese?”
“Yes.”
“Military?”
“Some of them, I think.”
“What about this Chi guy, is he PLA?”
“No, he’s a civilian.”
“I don’t believe you.” Yuri pressed the knife tip against her throat, drawing a prick of blood.
Elena jerked her neck aside. “He’s with the MSS.”
“That’s better. Now what the hell is their real mission here?”
“I don’t know any details. I was tasked as a liaison only. You know more than I do.”
“Where’s Wang?”
“I haven’t seen him. I don’t think he’s aboard.”
Yuri withdrew the knife and stood up. He offered his other hand. “Get up. Take me to Laura—right now.”
* * *
Nick remained at his observation post on the public boardwalk, now accompanied by his two would-be drunks. All three SVR officers leaned against the guardrail, gazing seaward at the Yangzi. They spoke in low tones.
“Do you think he made it aboard?” Pyotr Skirski asked. The bulky twenty-eight-year-old’s stature and shaved bullet-head screamed athlete.
“Probably.”
“Who is he anyway?”
“All I can tell you is that he’s with military intelligence.”
“GRU?” asked Fredek Kocyk. He stood next to Pyotr. Although he was nearly thirty, his lean build and fresh looks suggested a college student.
“Like I’ve told you both before, he’s deep undercover. Let’s just leave it at that.”
“Okay, just curious.”
Pyotr chimed in next. “What about Krestyanova? She must still be aboard—what’s her involvement?”
Nick turned about to face both of his charges. “We’re not certain at this point, but there’s a chance she might have been turned.”
“Chinese?”
“Like I said, we don’t know, but the MSS might be running her now.”
Both men cursed.
“I know her well from a previous op,” said Nick. “It’s really hard for me to believe that she crossed over. I’ve got to find out one way or the other.”
Fredek said, “Is that what Kirkwood is doing?”
When Nick introduced the agents to Yuri earlier in the day, he had used Yuri’s cover name from the Neva operation—John Kirkwood—but nothing more.
“Yes, that’s part of his mission.”
Nick turned to peer at the Yangzi. His subordinates remained mute.
Pyotr spoke up a minute later. “I see movement—the middle deck, near the stern,” he said, pointing.
Nick raised the night vision binocs. “Son of a bitch!”
“What?” Fredek asked.
“It’s Yur—John. He’s with Elena.”
* * *
“How much farther?” Yuri asked.
“It’s just ahead, maybe ten meters.”
Yuri and Elena were on the starboard deck hugging the bulkhead near amidships. They had been on the move for over five minutes, first heading to the aft end of deck four, where they skirted the luxurious outdoor lounge and hot tub. Yuri followed behind Elena, the Colt .45 clenched in his ungloved hand.
They crept forward, remaining in the shadows cast by the starboard bulwarks and the overhead of the bridge deck. Just ahead was the double doorway that opened into the interior of the upper deck—the main entrance to Kwan’s private residence.
Set into an
elegant but tough mahogany frame, the laminated glass inserts of the doorway were rated bullet resistant—not to repel invaders, but to resist a rogue wave washing over the deck.
Elena pulled open the forward door and stepped inside with Yuri on her heels. She pointed straight ahead to the elevator and said, “There it is.”
Yuri eyed the narrow door within the enclosure.
“How big is that thing?”
“It’s for four people.”
Yuri noticed the stairway to the right of the elevator. “Where do those stairs go?”
“Same as the lift.”
Yuri signaled with his pistol. “I prefer to walk.”
“Whatever.”
They were just passing the main deck—the ship’s third level, headed to the lower deck—when a young Asian female dressed in coveralls trotted up the stairs.
The PLAN specialist froze the instant she spotted Yuri. His hefty frame clad in all black certainly was intimidating. But the wide-caliber barrel he pointed between her eyes instilled immediate terror.
Yuri tipped the barrel of the Colt upward a few short strokes, signaling her to approach.
The woman moved to Elena’s side, trembling.
Yuri addressed Elena in Russian, “Use the belt on your robe to tie her hands behind her. Do a good knot because I’m going to check.”
Elena scowled as she turned away.
The trio started heading deeper into the hull. Yuri followed the women, his hand still holding the Colt with the barrel pointed at the overhead. Wrapped around his other hand was the tail end of the cloth belt that bound the wrists of his new captive. Without the belt, Elena had to cross both arms over her chest to keep her robe closed.
They were now on the lower deck, standing near the elevator.
“Which way?” Yuri asked, continuing in Russian.
“This way,” Elena said as she walked past the elevator and opened a side door. Yuri and his Chinese prisoner followed. Elena pulled open the fire door that provided entry to a narrow corridor that extended forward toward the bow. Cabin doors lined both sides of the hallway.
Elena started down the passage as Yuri commanded in a hushed voice, “Stop, come back here.”
Elena complied, closing the door with a confused frown. “What’s wrong? The cabin you want is up ahead on the right.”
“Keep your voice down. How many of the crew are here—sleeping?”
“I have no idea.”
“There’s a dozen or more cabins there. How do I know you’re really taking me to one Laura is in?”
Elena replied, “The only cabin I know down here is the one that Laura is in.”
“The cabins all have electronic key card access. How do we get into the cabin Laura’s in?”
“I knock on the door. They keep a guard in there with her.”
“Guard—why didn’t you tell me that before?”
“You didn’t ask.”
Yuri glowered at her. He sensed Elena was leading him into a trap. He turned to his new captive, and switching to English he whispered, “Do you speak English?”
“Little English,” she said, still edgy.
“How many here, sleeping—now?” he said, gesturing with his hands.
“Sleep now—off duty.”
“How many?”
“Chief steward—he in his cabin.” She pointed forward.
“Where are the others?”
“Engineer in his cabin.” She again pointed forward. “Captain, he in his cabin on bridge.” She pitched her head back, glancing at the overhead. “Other crew fly home today.”
“What about security?”
She frowned, not making the connection.
“Guards, how many on duty now?”
“Two.”
Yuri did the math: seven crew members including the woman and the other guard with Laura—a skeleton crew. That was far fewer than Nick’s estimate—good news for a change.
“Where’s your cabin?”
“Two cabins forward on port.”
“How many in there now?”
“Me only—others gone.”
“What do you do here?”
She shook her head.
“Your job—on this ship.”
“Assistant steward.”
“Are you military?”
She glanced away without comment. Nevertheless, Yuri had his answer.
“Where were you going?” he said, again addressing the young woman.
“To galley—for tea. No sleep anymore.”
Yuri suspected she was lying but didn’t pursue it. He was running out of time.
“All right, Elena, here’s what we’re going to do . . .”
They assembled beside the cabin entry. Elena and the captive stood side by side, facing the closed door. Yuri crouched down next to the assistant steward, still grasping her leash.
“Do it,” Yuri whispered.
Elena knocked on the door. “Open up, please,” she said in English with a raised voice. “I need to speak with Laura Newman again.”
The door cracked ajar.
“I need to see the prisoner,” Elena said.
The door rotated inward. That was Yuri’s signal. He rose from behind and shoved both Elena and the assistant steward through the opening.
Yuri’s maneuver was so unexpected that the two women slammed into the guard—another petite female—without uttering a word or even a scream. All three crashed to the deck in a tangle of limbs.
Yuri rushed inside, shoving the door closed.
Still lashed to the bed, Laura stared wide-eyed at Yuri.
CHAPTER 75
Elena and the two female crew members lay sprawled out on the deck inside the Yangzi’s brig. Yuri towered over the trio brandishing the Colt.
Yuri winked at Laura. “Hang tight, honey. I’ll have you free in a minute.” He addressed the two Chinese crew members, “Get up and untie her—now!” He faced Elena. “Sit there and wait.”
The youngest of the pair, the one Yuri had captured minutes earlier, translated for her companion. They stood and worked on Laura’s lashings.
Laura struggled to stand, her muscles stiff and lower back on fire.
With the pistol still trained on the trio, Yuri planted a quick kiss on Laura’s right cheek and said, “Are you okay?”
“I think so.” Laura stepped between the two PLAN sailors to check Maddy. She remained in the baby carrier parked on the desk. The commotion woke her and she howled.
Laura picked Maddy up and consoled her. “It’s okay, honey, I’m here.”
Yuri faced Elena. “Sit in the chair.” He eyed the two sailors. “Both of you, on the deck facedown.”
As the women complied, Yuri handed the pistol to Laura. “Shoot her if she moves.”
With Maddy over her left shoulder, Laura gripped the .45 with her right hand, aiming the semiautomatic at Elena’s exposed navel.
Yuri bound the women, using Laura’s cuffs. Before long, both females were hogtied and gagged.
“Get up, Elena,” he ordered. He bound Elena’s wrists behind her back with the belt from her robe. He turned to Laura, “Time to go, honey.”
Yuri reclaimed the pistol. With Elena in front and Laura behind carrying Maddy in the baby carrier, they exited the cabin. As he had done with the first Chinese captive, Yuri used the trailing end of Elena’s bonds as a leash. He was thankful that Madelyn had quieted down.
They stood at the base of the stairway that led upward to the main deck. Yuri started to push Elena forward, when Laura placed her hand on his shoulder. He turned to face her.
“Where are we going?” she whispered, bewildered by the abrupt turn of events.
“To the stern. There’s a dive center there.”
“Why?”
“We’re going to swim off this thing—it’s the only safe way. There should be extra wetsuits in there for you.”
“What about Maddy?”
He pulled on a backpack shoulder strap. “Everything nee
ded to keep her safe is inside.”
Laura’s eyes narrowed in worry.
Yuri broadcast a reassuring smile. “I’ll show you soon. We need to go.”
“Okay.”
It was a calculated risk on Yuri’s part. The Web article Nick found had a page featuring the Yangzi’s—or Columbia’s—dive center, an amenity usually found on superyachts. If he found no dive gear in the compartment, Yuri had a backup plan. He would give Laura his wetsuit jacket and its hood—it would be bulky over the coveralls she wore but it would keep her vital organs warm. The sleeveless rubber vest covering what he wore under the wetsuit jacket would get him to shore.
Inside the backpack were a child-size immersion suit and a plastic inflatable one-person raft. The survival suit was too big for Maddy. Nevertheless, it would keep her warm and dry in the raft.
They reached the main deck, amidships. Yuri oriented himself before directing Elena to head through a nearby interior doorway. They entered the galley. The stainless steel appliances filling the spacious compartment were all top-of-the-line commercial grade.
At the opposite end of the galley a hatchway opened onto the exterior deck. With Elena at his side, Yuri cracked open the hatch and peered aft.
He stepped through the doorway, pulling Elena with him. “Head aft,” he commanded.
Laura followed with Maddy.
They walked a few steps when one of the guards walked into view at the far end of the side deck.
Startled, the sentry jerked out a pistol from his shoulder holster and raised it to eye level.
“Get down,” Yuri yelled to Laura and Elena. With no other options, he attacked.
Just as Yuri squeezed the Colt’s trigger, the sentry fired.
The guard buckled to the deck, hit in the lower abdomen with the first round and then his left forearm. On his stomach, he scurried out of view.
Yuri kept his pistol aimed downrange, admonishing himself for blowing the second shot. His ears still rang from the double reports. Then he noticed Elena on her knees, staring up at him. Her eyes were as wide as saucers, and her cheeks were pale. She rolled onto her side, her hands still tied behind her back.
Huddled on the deck shielding Madelyn, Laura noticed the blood first. “She’s been shot.”
“What?”
Crawling on her hands and knees, Laura moved next to Elena. She pulled back the bathrobe. “Oh my Lord,” she said.
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