by John Day
Sarah didn’t know what to make of it. Had Alan taken advantage of Ellen during what they thought were their last moments?
“What did you and Alan talk about, when you thought you were about to die?” Sarah tried to mask her rising anger. She felt betrayed by Alan, the man she knew she loved and would have willingly married, if this adventure into disaster had never happened.
“I am sorry. What happened, or was said on the sub, stays there. People say and act so differently under those circumstances.” Ellen felt a twinge of conscience now, something a psychopath is unlikely to feel, but not impossible. She realised Sarah would never rebound in her direction after all, but she had succeeded in driving a wedge between Alan and Sarah, permanently.
She eased Sarah away and changed the subject. In a light-hearted tone, she asked, “What do you say to a cup of fresh coffee, Sarah?”
“I would love a coffee. I’d better finish washing Benny’s blood out of the carpet or we will lose our deposit. I expect Walter would love one too, he has been the salvation of us all.” In Sarah’s mind, Alan was a bad word, in more senses than the literal one.
Ellen picked up on the sense of Sarah’s comment and decided to say nothing. Instead she gracefully exited to the galley and started a brew.
***
The pinprick of red light from the exploding U-boat registered with the satellite observing the weather. All eyes of the world were watching, trying to predict the path of the storm. The intensity and height of the pulse of heat had penetrated the heavy cloud cover, and it was immediately flagged up for close scrutiny.
Throughout the oceans of the world, over the following hours, sonar arrays picked up the sound of the explosion, amongst all the other natural background noise.
Military installations and seismological stations treated the event differently. When the National Army of the Bolivarian Republic of Venezuela military combined the weather observation and acoustic data, it was considered prudent to investigate.
This was not the relatively small event that might occur when a fuel tanker catches fire and explodes. A tanker offers little containment to the expanding forces of an explosion. The fuel also burns relatively slowly on the outside where oxygen is present.
This explosion was a massive, sudden release of energy, the sort that only weapons grade or military equipment can produce.
A team of soldiers would be mobilised from 5102 Reconnaissance Company, part of the 5th Jungle Infantry Division out of Fort Tiuna in Caracas. They would leave in two lightly armed troop-carrying helicopters. Their brief would be to search the sea and shoreline of the mapped coordinates off Cabo San Juan del Guia for wreckage…
Expedition.
Fresh from the galley, Ellen delivered her welcome payload of coffee to Sarah who was still scrubbing the carpet, Walter manning the helm and Alan operating the searchlight.
She noticed that the coast and mountains showed clearly on the radar as a scattering of green light, offering only the vaguest clue to the location of the lagoon entrance.
The drinks would soon cool enough to gulp down, before facing the final hurdle of their dash for safety.
“Ellen, make sure you, Sarah and Benny put on life jackets and could you bring ours please. We will soon attempt to enter the lagoon. I think it might be easier now, but we need to be prepared for the worst.”
Benny had smelled the coffee brewing and slipped out of bed to grab a mug. It was time to join in with the others.
Ellen nodded and grabbed the jackets. “Here are yours. Make sure you get us through the reef safely, or you will have to deal with my hairdresser. Another soaking in seawater and she will never get the frizz out!” The three laughed at her lame humour. Things were returning to normal again.
Walter added. “We’ve decided to beach Lady Jane, so listen out for the warning and brace yourselves. We will hit the beach at speed and the sand will stop us very suddenly.”
“Ay, ay captain,” Ellen saluted, “I will lash myself to the mast.”
Alan laughed as he replied. “What you do in your own time is no concern of ours, Ellen.”
She whacked him lightly on the back of the head. “Cheeky monkey, we will have less of that smut.” She walked away chuckling.
Peering intently through the bridge windows, Alan and Walter could now see the stronger and continuous curve of white water indicating their approach to the reef.
Alan swept the searchlight over the narrow break. “Walter, I think this is the opening we need to aim for.”
“I see it. I am opening her right up for best control.” He rammed the throttles full open and felt the surge forward.
Walter looked tense as he spoke. “If the worst happens and we clip the reef, there might be enough momentum to ride over it and get to calmer water inside. I don’t think we would stand a chance if we got stuck on top of it and had to swim through all that coral. We would be sliced to ribbons.”
Alan replied light heartedly, trying to shake off his fears. “You’re such a pessimist Walter, come on now, tell it as it is.” Walter smiled and shook his head despairingly. The damn fool wasn’t taking this seriously.
With the Lady Jane running faster than the waves, the pitching was alarming. Up the slope was fine, but not over the crest - what was pointing up, suddenly pointed down into the wave trough. At the bottom, the bows plunged in and took an age to shed the water.
They all stayed with Alan and Walter on the bridge. If things went wrong, they wanted to be together for mutual support.
Alan played the pencil thin searchlight beam either side of what they perceived as the reef entrance, and Walter constantly adjusted his course. He had to cut across the waves, but as he neared the opening he was too far to the left, then way too far right.
At this late stage he could do nothing about it, he should have approached from a different angle, lined up on the right course and square onto the waves.
***
Walter’s heart missed several beats, as the diesel engine lost power at this critical moment. He knew the problem was fuel flow, it had picked up more sludge from the tank. His heart kicked back in and raced at 170 BPM.
“Take over the wheel Alan, I have to dump the fuel filter chamber, we have more contaminated fuel. Stop the engine and be prepared to restart when I say.”
“I will help you Walter.”
“Thanks Sarah, I’ll need it.”
Ellen chimed in. “You concentrate on steering, Alan, I will manage the starter and search light.”
Alan nodded grimly. This was not the grand entrance he had planned.
Walter raced off and yanked open the deck covers, letting in sea water that swirled over the hot engine, sending up clouds of steam in his face. As Sarah held the light, focussed on the cup sized glass filter chamber, Walter could see it was mostly full with sludge again. The engine note had changed as the sludge blocked the flow temporarily, then picked up. There was a slim chance the engine would run if he could remove the chamber, pour out everything and reassemble quickly enough.
The engine must be stopped now, it was vital no air reached the injectors, because there was no time to bleed the system. Using his body to deflect the sea away from the filter, Walter started to undo it.
Using his thumb and finger, he undid a knurled nut and released the glass. Fuel gushed out and the tough glass chamber slipped from his grasp. It fell on the floor and rolled out of reach, under the engine. He could have cried with despair at his clumsiness, but now was not the time to lose focus.
Sara saw the problem and slid sideways into the small gap alongside the scorching hot, steam issuing engine. Thrusting her arm under it, she groped frantically amongst the deepening oily bilge water.
She felt the glass as it rolled this way and that with the motion of the boat. She made a grab for it and was surprised how slippery it was. The coating of diesel and water left it as hard to grasp as a lump of wet soap.
“If you have it Sarah, fish it out now, we have run
out of time.” It was an unnecessary warning, she already knew that.
In a swift movement, she twisted her arm out and offered up the dripping glass cup.
There was no time for finesse, Walter blew hard into the glass cup several times, to blast moisture out from inside the chamber, placed it back on the engine and primed it with fresh fuel. He would screw it back on if the engine started, when he felt sure it wouldn’t have to be removed again. “Sarah, tell Alan to crank the engine.”
Benny relayed the message. He had taken up position between the engine and bridge, not to be helpful, but to save his own skin. Still, no one cared.
A couple of turns and the engine raced into life. A more welcome sound was hard to imagine.
Again, the boat surged forward and Alan adjusted his course to line up with the entrance.
… and again, the engine revs died! No one knew why, apart from Alan, who throttled back..
The twisting and turning of the vessel made course prediction a lottery. Walter was right about charging in and relying on momentum to take them off the reef, but Alan saw a different way.
Up came the engine revs. The catamaran clawed its way across the rising face of the wave. Nearing the crest, Alan turned square to it and travelled with it like a surfer. His speed matched that of the wave crest. He had lined up with the entrance and as insurance, using the wave crest would give him maximum clearance above the reef, if he misjudged his aim.
Through he went and held the position on the wave, right up the beach. The engines were shut down at the last instant so the props wouldn’t be damaged. High, but not dry, Lady Jane was not budging, she was stranded - just what they wanted. All they had to do now was leap off and tie onto the nearest tree.
***
They sank down exhausted on the soaked sandy beach, looking out to sea in the darkness. The storm was abating and they were safe at last in the shelter of the lagoon.
Having recovered somewhat, they soon agreed they would be better off back aboard Lady Jane. They could get cleaned up, have nourishing food and drinks, and a good night’s sleep.
Had they known what was heading their way, sleep would have been the last thing on their minds…
***
Benny.
Safe and warm on Lady Jane, Benny lay in his bed replaying recent events in his mind. So far, no one blamed him for anything, perhaps what he had done might never come to light. If it did, nothing would protect him from Walter’s wrath, let alone what the others would do to him. They would all want a piece of him.
The massive bruise on his chest from the cut rope, as it flicked back at him, had to remain his painful secret. The adrenalin and fear as the recent drama unfolded had taken his mind off the ache. Now though, it was almost the only thing he could think about.
He forced his thoughts to the cargo in the cave. This was the hardest project he had ever tackled and it was far from over. How much worse could it get?
A great deal worse, actually…
***
Walter.
Ellen was safe. Nothing else really mattered, not even Benny. Walter wasn’t a person to bear grudges, provided people left him alone to get on with his life. He might use it against the man at some point, if necessary, but he couldn’t imagine such a scenario just now.
He thought of Sarah as she had helped him get the fuel clean. She was under pressure to get Alan back, but he also got the feeling there was a rift between them. He desired her and felt a strong kinship or bond forming when they were together, not that he would do anything to damage his friendship with Alan.
He regretted telling her about his connection with Ellen and the things that had happened. He was certain she would never use it against him, but who knows what the future might hold. People could easily change their allegiance when it suited them.
He drifted off and the nightmare began…he was swamped with water. It swirled around him, as he struggled to lift the steel hatch to release Ellen.
In his mind, he could hear her banging hard on the underside of the thick cold steel, but he couldn’t lift it to pull her out. He had failed her and would never see her again…
Something disturbed him. The door knob was turning, there was a click of the lock and the door swept over the deep pile of the carpet with a gentle shush sound, as someone crept in. There was no reason for anyone to come into his room. No one, no reason, except perhaps Sarah.
He could smell her fragrance now. She had showered and put herself back together as the English rose that she had become over the years. He opened his eyes to see her naked white body, illuminated by the faint light as she faced the porthole. She stood over him now and he stared up at her. She knew he was awake and aware, but still she gently lifted the thin sheet and slipped in beside him.
This was all her doing, her choice, he had made no moves nor hinted that he would be receptive, but here she was. Whatever happened now was all on her. She pressed her warm, soft skin hard against his naked body. There could be no mistaking her needs and he was there for her...
***
Sarah.
After a hot shower, Sarah felt clean again. Still wound up by events, she slid gratefully into her bed. It felt so good to relax and rest all those pulled muscles that stabbed with pain, whenever she moved. Hopefully they would be better by morning, after a good night’s sleep.
Try as she might though, she just couldn’t settle. Ellen’s bombshell about her and Alan on the sub, the story Walter told her about his relationship with Ellen, and Sarah’s own damaged relationship with Alan, all played on her mind.
Justifying her actions to herself, she felt certain there would be no future now, with Alan, so she might as well move on. Walter was not likely to want wedding bells, so this would be a no strings affair. She had needs, just like anyone. Anyway, no one else would know.
Emotionally wrecked, she quietly got out of bed and tiptoed naked to Walter’s room.
Although Walter did not appear awake, Sarah guessed the man was like a guard dog and probably slept with one eye open. If he was asleep, he was about to wake up to a lovely surprise.
She slipped sensually under the covers and pressed herself against him…
***
Alan.
The whole adventure so far, had been like the spikes on his late father’s heart monitor. Extreme peak, followed by a cliff fall plunge that seemed to get successively worse. Perhaps he would flatline soon.
He had been so certain that he and Ellen were going to die in that cold, wet, stinking steel coffin. The odd thing was, it didn’t bother him as much as the shame of his business empire crashing, or having to face his staff with the news. It also terrified him that Mendez would have him killed, should he fail to deliver at the end of the year.
The evil thought bubbled up again. Should he pay someone to do away with Mendez? No, there had to be another way. He couldn’t have the death of someone on his conscience, not even an evil monster such as Mendez.
Had Ellen worked a spell on him? It wasn’t so bad cuddling her, lesbian and all. Not that it made any of difference to him what her sexual preference was, he only saw her as a person he got on well with. That was the only yardstick he used with people.
He wondered if she would ever mention the cuddle to Walter? He doubted he would care though, he got what he needed from their relationship and it didn’t seem to be sexual, so why would he mind?
Sarah had turned against him and that was a great pity. He had reverted to his earlier love of her, he could not marry her if she was a lesbian, he had needs that would not be satisfied in that situation. But he would still lay down his life for her.
He continued to speculate what their life together might have been if she agreed to marry him. If the embrace with Ellen was an experiment that turned out to be a mistake, then he was convinced they would have been very happy. It also assumed the Mendez threat had been sorted.
Alternatively, they could have married and then her sexuality would have led to unha
ppiness. Either, she would have been compelled to fake her needs or they would have been exposed. Not good for her or him.
Frustrated with the emotional turmoil, he punched the hell out of his pillow and tried again, to sleep.
***
Ellen.
Sarah was still a challenge, but that was all it was. If Sarah couldn’t sort out her relationship with Alan, then bigger fool her. The man was so right for the girl.
Ellen knew she would treasure the memory of being with Alan, just friends cuddling for mutual support, trapped for ever in the dark. She shuddered at the thought, now that she was there, warm and safe in her bed.
As usual, Walter had plucked her from death. He did that a lot, and she loved him for his devotion. Perhaps she should be sad that she would never be a real woman to him. It had crossed her mind, she had faked it with others who forced themselves on her. No, Walter deserved better than that sort of dishonesty, from her. Anyway, he would never believe it was genuine.
***
She switched her thoughts. Without emotional conflicts, it was easy for her to do.
Gleefully she imagined the possibilities of their new situation. They were so close to finding the cargo now, she could practically taste it. In many respects, the storm was a stroke of good fortune. It had driven Charles and Mendez away, so that was the last they would see of them.
If they’d had more time on the sub, there was every certainty that someone from the Celeste crew would have spotted the bars of gold, and the map under the German’s pillow. Ellen smirked at the thought of their good fortune. It hadn’t crossed her mind that the cave might never be found or, more likely, be empty. Some of the crew may have survived. They probably wouldn’t need a map to find their way back, Herman wouldn’t.