Like sheep led to the slaughterhouse, the shipboard crew was herded in groups of three and four to the rear deck of the Sea Rover. Astern of the moon pool was a recessed cargo hold where the submersible and other equipment was stored when not in use. Under Kim's direction, the hold's heavy steel hatch cover was winched off with one of the Sea Rover's cranes. The frightened captives were then forced down a steel ladder into the dark, cavernous bay.
Tongju approached Kim on the rear deck with a bound and limping Morgan in tow, another commando prodding the captain forward with the barrel of his assault rifle.
“Report?” Tongju asked bluntly.
“All objectives achieved,” Kim reported proudly. “One casualty in the engine room, Ta-kong, but all ship's compartments are now secure. We've transferred all the captives to the stern hold. Jin-chul reports that eight units of ordnance have been located intact in the ship's auxiliary laboratory,” he added, nodding toward a wiry commando standing next to a prefabricated structure across the deck. “The submersible is currently deployed in recovery of additional ordnance.”
“Very well,” Tongju replied with a rare smile that revealed a set of heavily yellowed teeth. “Contact the Baekje. Tell her to tie up alongside and prepare for transfer of the ordnance.”
“You won't get far,” Morgan growled, spitting out a mouthful of blood as he spoke.
“But, Captain,” Tongju replied with an evil smirk, “we already have.”
A thousand feet beneath the Sea Rover, Summer was carefully placing the tenth aerial bomb into the makeshift holding tray alongside the ninth canister she had plucked from the bottom just moments before. She again secured both bombs with the mechanical arms, then turned to Dirk when she was finished.
“Ten down, two to go. You may take us home now, Jeeves.”
“Yes, m'lady,” he replied in a Cockney accent, then he actuated the submersible's thrusters and backed out of the tight confines of the hangar. As they cleared the deck of the I-411, Summer radioed up to the Sea Rover's control room.
“Sea Rover, this is Starfish. Have secured the next batch and are preparing to ascend with the goods, over.”
The call was returned with silence. She tried calling several more times as they started their ascent but again received no response from the surface.
“Ryan must be asleep at the wheel,” Dirk said.
“Can't blame him,” Summer replied while suppressing a yawn. “It is two-thirty in the morning.”
“I just hope the guy on the crane is awake,” he smirked.
As they neared the surface, they spotted the familiar glow of the moon pool lights and maneuvered the Starfish into the center of the ring, where they bobbed gently to the surface. Dirk and Summer paid scant attention to the shadowy figures on the deck as the clank of the main hoist was dropped and attached to the submersible and they began to power down its electronic equipment. It was only when they were jerked roughly out of the water and swung wildly to the stern deck, nearly colliding with the port bulkhead, that they realized something was amiss.
“Who the hell's working the crane?” Summer cursed as they were set down harshly on the deck. “Don't they know we've got two bombs aboard?”
“It sure ain't the Welcome Wagon,” Dirk said drily as he stared out of the bubble window.
Directly in front of them, an Asian man in a black paramilitary outfit stood holding an automatic pistol to the stomach of Captain Morgan. Dirk looked beyond the man's long Fu Manchu mustache and crooked yellow teeth splayed in an evil grin and focused on the eyes. They were cold, black eyes that portrayed a menacing air of utter indifference. They were, Dirk knew, the eyes of an experienced killer.
Summer gasped at the sight of Morgan. A makeshift bandage was wrapped about his left thigh but failed to cover the rivulets of dried blood that was splattered down his leg. His cheekbone was bruised and swollen to the size of a grapefruit, and his eye had already begun to blacken. More dried blood ran from his mouth and onto his shirt. Yet the crusty captain stood unflinching, his lack of fear so prominent that Summer failed to notice he was still wearing a pair of boxer shorts.
A pair of commandos suddenly jumped in front of the Starfish's acrylic bubble, waving their AK-74s about wildly in a show for Dirk and Summer to exit the submersible. The gun muzzles were quickly poked in their faces as they climbed out of the submersible and were marched over to Morgan and Tongju.
“Mr. Pitt,” Tongju said in a low voice. "Good of you to join us.
“I don't believe I've had the pleasure of your acquaintance,” Dirk replied sarcastically.
“A humble servant of the Japanese Red Army whose name is unimportant,” Tongju replied with feigned graciousness, bowing his head slightly.
“I didn't realize there were still any of you fruitcakes left outside of jail.”
Tongju just held his grin, not moving a facial muscle. “You and your sister have fifteen minutes to replenish the submersible's batteries and prepare to retrieve the final two ordnance,” he said calmly.
“They are both damaged and in pieces,” Dirk lied, his mind racing to compute a plan of action.
Tongju calmly raised the Glock pistol aimed at Morgan's side and held the muzzle to the captain's right temple. “You have fourteen minutes, at which time I shall kill your captain. Then I will kill your sister. And then I will kill you,” he said coldly, his lips parting in a self-satisfying grin.
Dirk could feel the blood racing through his veins as he glared at the madman in anger. Then the delicate touch of Summer's hand on his shoulder dispelled any thoughts of rash action.
“Come on, Dirk, we haven't much time,” she said, guiding him to a wheeled cart that had been rolled out with replacement batteries for the submersible. Morgan looked at Dirk and nodded in concurrence. Fighting the feeling of total helplessness, he reluctantly began transferring the batteries to the Starfish, all the while keeping one eye glued to the commando leader.
As they prepped the submersible for a last dive, the final remnants of the ship's crew were marched by and forced into the rear hold at gunpoint. Summer grimly noted the frightened look on two lab analysts as they were prodded roughly down the hatchway.
Working quickly, Dirk and Summer replaced the submersible's power supply in just over twelve minutes. There would be no time for the standard post operation and pre dive system checks normally per formed before the submersible was returned to the water. They would have to hope the Starfish was operational for one more dive.
Tongju walked over in a measured clip and glared up at the two Americans, who both towered over him.
“You will promptly retrieve the remaining ordnance and return to the vessel without any nonsense. You have ninety minutes to complete your dive successfully or there will be severe consequences.”
“If I were you, I think I'd be worrying about the consequences from our military forces for pirating a government ship,” Summer spat angrily.
“There will be no consequences,” Tongju replied, smiling thinly, “for a ship that no longer exists.”
Before Summer could respond, Tongju spun on his heels and walked away, replaced by two commandos who stepped forward with their assault rifles drawn and aimed.
“Come on, sister,” Dirk muttered. “There's no use arguing with a psychopath.”
Dirk and Summer threaded themselves back into the Starfish, then were roughly jostled into the air by the crane operator. As they were prepared to be let go, Dirk watched through the acrylic bubble as Morgan was roughly manhandled to the stern hold and forcefully pitched down into the container. A commando on a stern deck crane hoisted up the massive steel hatch and positioned it over the rear hold before lowering it in place. Secured over the hold, the hatch imprisoned the entire ship's crew in darkness below.
With a violent splash, the Starfish was crudely dropped into the moon pool a second later and released from the ship's cable.
“He means to sink the Sea Rover” Dirk said to Summer as they began thei
r slow descent to the bottom.
“With the entire crew locked in the hold?” she asked, shaking her head in disbelief.
“I think so,” he said somberly. “Unfortunately, there's not much we can do in the way of calling for help.”
“Our underwater communication system won't do any good, and any surface calls we might try wouldn't have the range to reach anybody in this region except a few Chinese fishermen.”
“Or the cable ship that is evidently supporting these characters,” he added, shaking his head.
“Our intelligence heads apparently underestimated this Japanese Red Army,” Summer said. “Those guys didn't look like a rogue band of ideological extremists with dynamite strapped to their backs.”
“No, it's apparent they are well-trained military professionals. Who-ever's running their operation is obviously skilled and well funded.” “I wonder what they intend to do with the bombs?” “An attack in Japan would figure. But there's obviously more to this Japanese Red Army than meets the eye, so I wouldn't want to wager on what their intent is.”
“”I guess we can't worry about that for now. We've got to figure out a way to save the crew."
“I counted eight commandos, and there was no doubt a few more on the bridge and elsewhere on the ship. Too many to overpower with a couple of screwdrivers,” Dirk said, examining the contents of a small toolbox mounted behind his seat.
“We'll need to quietly get some of the crewmen out of the hold to help us. If we had enough people, maybe we could overpower them.” “I don't relish the thought of going unarmed against an AK-74, but there might be a chance in numbers. Getting the lid off that storage hold is the problem. I'd need a couple of uninterrupted minutes on the stern crane, but I don't think our friends in black would be too obliging.”
“There must be another way out of that hold,” Summer wondered.
“No, unfortunately, there isn't. I'm sure it matches the Deep Endeavor, where it was designed strictly as a storage hold and is blocked off from any entry amidships by the moon pool.”
“I thought Ryan had run a power cable down there once from someplace other than the open hatch cover.”
Dirk thought hard for a moment, trying to jog his memory. After a long minute, a light finally clicked on.
“You're right. There's a small venting hatch that opens on the bulkhead just aft of the moon pool. It's really more of an air vent, designed to release the buildup of noxious gases if chemicals are stored in the hold. I'm pretty sure a man could squeeze through it. The problem for Morgan and the crew is that it's sealed and locked from the outside.”
“We've got to figure out a way to unlock it,” Summer willed.
Together, they worked through several contingency plans, finally settling on an order of attack based on their opportunities once aboard the Sea Rover. It would take timing, skill, and a dose of daring to pull off. But mostly it would take luck.
Dirk and Summer fell silent as their minds conjured up gruesome images of the Sea Rover sinking with all hands, their friends, and coworkers trapped in the airtight hold. Then the specter of the I-411 suddenly rose up in the blackness before them and they washed the images from their minds. With the clock ticking, they went about their business of retrieving the final two canisters of death. Dirk maneuvered the submersible into the hangar as before, setting the Starfish down within easy reach of the remaining ordnance. As Summer began manipulating the mechanical arms by sight through the acrylic bubble, Dirk observed the video camera feed on the monitor, which recorded every moment of the recovery. He watched while Summer gently lifted the first canister and was placing it in the recovery basket when he suddenly powered up Snoopy and grabbed the remote vehicle's controls. In an instant, he nudged the ROV out of its cradle just a few inches, then spun the tiny machine around until its nose was pressed against the submersible's skid plates and applied full thrusting power. The tiny ROV went nowhere, but its water jets stirred up a thick cloud of muck and sediment in front of the Starfish. In a flash, the water visibility went to zero amid a cloud of brown.
“What are you doing?” Summer demanded, freezing the mechanical arm controls.
“You'll see,” he said, although there was nothing to see at all. After reaching over and fidgeting with Summer's controls for a moment, he then powered down the ROV's thruster. It took two minutes for the seawater to clear enough that Summer could proceed with seizing the final canister.
“You want to try that trick again?” she asked after depositing the bomb into the basket.
“Why not?” he replied, hitting the ROV thruster again and stirring up another muddy cloud for the camera.
Once the water cleared and both canisters were pinned into the basket, Dirk edged the submersible away from the submarine and they began their slow ascent. Halfway to the surface, they traded positions, squirming over one another so that Summer controlled the submersible movements while Dirk manned the controls of both mechanical arms.
“Okay, take us on up,” Dirk instructed. “As soon as they drop us onto the deck, I'll need you to create a diversion.” While he spoke, he worked the left mechanical arm away from its locked position on the weapons basket and flexed it straight out to its full extension so that it poked out from the Starfish like a lance.
Summer trusted her brother's instincts implicitly, and had little time to argue anyway. The ringed lights of the moon pool soon came into view. Summer steered the Starfish to the center of the opening, then they broke surface with a rush of bubbles and foaming seawater. A metallic clank was heard as the lifting hook was attached to the submersible and the diminutive vessel was yanked from the water. Summer peered out at Tongju and a half-dozen other commandos as the submersible swung through the air. Her brother, she noted, was intently watching their forward progress while gently adjusting the mechanical arm's position. When they were crudely dropped to the deck by the inexperienced crane operator, she saw Dirk jam the arm controls all the way forward. The metal claw bounced forward along the deck as they stopped, coming to a halt near the rear bulkhead. Four feet off to the side was the small, sealed venting hatch that led to the storage hold.
“Our boy on the crane came through,” Dirk muttered. “We're in the ballpark.”
“I guess it's showtime,” Summer replied with a nervous look.
Moving quickly, she stripped out of her NUMA jumpsuit, revealing a lean body that was clad in a skimpy two-piece bathing suit covered by a large T-shirt. Reaching under the shirt, she unhooked her bathing top and let it fall to the floor, then grabbed the loose base of her T-shirt and tied a knot with the material just above her navel. The ightened shirt clearly revealed the shapely contour of her full breasts and midriff. Dirk helped open the escape hatch, then quickly returned lo the manipulator arm controls as Summer burst out of the submersible.
Tongju was busy talking to the crane operator with his back toward the submersible when Summer crawled out. Seeing him turned away, she hurriedly approached the nearest commando, who stood glaring at her exposed features with a leer. His leer turned to shock as Summer shouted at the top of her lungs, “Get your hands off me, creep!”
Her words were followed by an open-hand slap to the man's face that nearly sent him sprawling. If her bikini and tight shirt hadn't already attracted everyone's attention, then her decking one of their fellow commandos suddenly brought every eye on the ship upon her.
Every eye except Dirk's. Capitalizing on the commotion, he powered the mechanical arm to its full lateral reach, just barely stretching its extended claw to the bulkhead vent hatch. Grabbing the lockdown handle with the claw, he nudged it to the unlocked position and pulled n it just a hair, to ensure the hatch would open. Quickly letting go,
he eased the arm back alongside the Starfish, then powered it down. Scampering out the submersible's entry hatch, he stood casually in^ back of the submersible as if he'd been there all along.
“What is this all about?” Tongju hissed as he approached Summer, his Glock p
istol drawn and aimed at her midsection.
“This pervert tried to assault me,” Summer screeched, jerking a thumb toward the slack-jawed commando. Tongju let fly a stream of obscenities until the confounded gunman shrank like a wilting violet. The commando leader then turned back to Summer and Dirk, who now stood behind his sister.
“You two, back in the submersible,” he commanded in English, the muzzle of his Glock pointing the way.
“Jeez, a guy can't even stretch his legs around here,” Dirk complained as if it were his biggest concern at the moment. As they made their way back into the submersible, they noticed for the first time that the Japanese cable-laying ship was heaving to alongside the Sea Rover. Though little longer than the NUMA vessel, the Japanese ship had a much higher superstructure and seemed to tower over the Sea Rover. The Baekje was hardly alongside a minute before a huge crane on her stern deck swung over the Sea Rover's side rail trailing a cable with an empty pallet that spun lazily in the breeze. From inside the submersible, they watched as the pallet was dropped to the deck beside them. A trio of black-clad commandos then rolled several storage containers out of the Sea Rover's auxiliary laboratory and secured them to the pallet. Each container, they knew, held one of the biological bombs encased in a cushioned sheath.
The Baekje's crane operator quickly transferred the pallet back and forth several times in the predawn darkness until all of the bomb containers were aboard the Japanese ship. The empty pallet then became a bus, ferrying the commandos to the ship a handful at a time. From belowdecks, a black-clad gunman appeared and conversed briefly with Tongju. Dirk noticed Tongju break into a thin smile, then pointed to the submersible and barked out an order. The cable hook was released from the pallet and attached to the Starfish.
“Guess we're changing rides,” Dirk commented when the cable was pulled taut.
This time the submersible was hoisted smoothly into the air. Dirk rapidly jabbed the mechanical arm out and rapped three times on the rear bulkhead with the claw before being pulled up and off the deck. He and Summer watched the Sea Rover fall away beneath them as they were carried over the water and deposited on a high stern deck of the Baekje. Climbing out of the submersible, they were welcomed by a pair of armed thugs, who prodded them toward the ship's railing with their guns.
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