Chasing Gold

by David Leadbeater

  “Get them up here!”

  Men reached down for Crouch. He found he could hardly move; the old legs betraying him. With a heave he managed to rise and was then pulled the rest of the way up. Terri moved to help but was warned off by one of the men.

  “What am I going to do?” she said in exasperation. “Run?”

  They dragged her up onto the jetty and then made Crouch follow. Alicia was closing rapidly by now and some terrorists opened fire. Crouch managed to jostle two of them on his way past. Bullets flew at the skies.

  The second motorboat started up. Someone made the engine roar. The banner was in the bottom, freeing up all of the terrorists. Ricci glared at the horizon.

  “Put bullets in all these other boats,” he said. “So they can’t follow us.”

  “There’s nowhere to go!” Crouch said quietly, since he was on the same boat. “You can’t escape on the ocean.”

  Ricci gave him speculative eyes. “We’ll see about that, soldier. I always have backup plans for my backup plans.”

  “Is that what the Army taught you?”

  Ricci ignored him, just started easing the boat out of its resting place. Crouch stood at the rear, feeling the waves rolling beneath the hull now, and watched as Ricci’s men gave their attention to the rest of the boats.

  But only one bullet was loosed before Alicia and Russo sent lead flying among them, hopefully realizing the situation. Men dived this way and that, falling into the back of the second boat, and couldn’t regain their feet as the pilot moved off at speed. Soon, the waves were billowing out around it.

  Nobody shouted the failure over to Ricci. Crouch didn’t blame them. His throat was so raw and stretched he could hardly speak without rasping. It was also clear that Ricci took pleasure in inflicting pain. Thankfully, he hadn’t properly taken issue with Terri yet. Crouch stared back at the beach as Alicia and Russo leaped up onto the jetty.

  They weren’t waiting for the FBI.

  Ahead, the blue Pacific stretched left and right, a beautiful unbroken vista. The bay’s breakers rolled in, white and frothy, but wouldn’t pose any obstruction to the powerful speedboats. Crouch watched the shore in despair.

  His heart leapt when he saw a boat leaving the jetty, making out the blond head of hair at its helm. Damn if that girl didn’t understand the meaning of failure. Again, he felt eternally thankful for her, so honored that he had been chosen to help her at a young age. In a long life where, like everyone, he’d done his fair share of wrongs, she was one of the best rights.

  A little after Alicia, the FBI came too, commandeering boats of their own.

  The chase continued across the waves.

  Crouch gauged the mood aboard the boat. In one way he could simply jump now; affect his freedom that way. The bad guys couldn’t exactly turn around and pick him up.

  But Crouch wouldn’t leave Terri.

  He wasn’t made that way, hadn’t been trained that way, and couldn’t do it. They would escape together or not at all. Terri was handcuffed to one of the seats at the front of this boat — no way to free her. Crouch hadn’t even seen which man pocketed the key. His eyes narrowed then. Alicia was closing on the rear boat.

  He sat down, knowing exactly what was coming. His body ought to be less of a target in case errant bullets flew his way. The boat took flight off the tops of the higher waves, crashing down into the deluge below before riding up the next swell and taking flight again.

  Gunfire drowned out the noise of the ocean. Crouch saw Alicia piloting with one hand and shooting with the other. He saw Russo sighting over the side, trying to pick off terrorists in the last boat. Bullets thudded into wood and tore through the seas. The clack-clack of return fire was a nightmare to his ears. But still Alicia came on.

  Ricci yelled out in glee. A smudge could be seen on the horizon. Crouch fancied it was the Shoshone Star, the oil tanker these bandits had booked passage on. Crouch frowned. Oil tanker? What the hell was he missing here?

  Two lead motorboats plowed the seas. Crouch could see Alicia’s bow wave and the spray that filled the air behind her boat. A terrorist caught a bullet in the neck and flew back against the bulwark of the cabin. His colleagues hefted him up and threw him over the side; too fast to have properly checked his wounds. They returned fire at Alicia’s boat. Now, the FBI were coming up alongside Alicia in their bigger, faster crafts. Everything Crouch could see back there was crowded with agents.

  And they would be coming by air too, he thought. By sea.

  What am I missing?

  He figured they’d traveled about fifteen miles. The oil tanker was growing much bigger now, an outsize behemoth simply sitting in their way, blemishing the horizon like a squat, gray stain.

  He considered the way they’d been traveling, parallel to the eastern coast of Oahu. Could there be anything else out there?

  He didn’t know the area well enough to conclude anything. The gun battle raging behind was intensifying. Russo fired precise shot after shot. The terrorists shot back but hid behind the sides too, popping up only when necessary. A bullet passed through a plank of wood with a splinter and took off the top of a man’s head. Another winged a small youth, spinning him around. One more took a shot from the FBI boat; a bullet that slammed into the pit of his stomach and made him double over.

  Again, he was hefted into the ocean.

  Crouch’s count was eight terrorists remaining, plus Ricci. Judging by the gap between their boat and the oil tanker, they would arrive alongside in about eight minutes. That put them roughly twenty miles from their starting point.

  Did Ricci have an army aboard that ship?

  Did he plan to make the video and then kill himself before he could be taken?

  Ricci struck Crouch as a leader, a high-level player. Not the kind of man to make such an easy sacrifice. He ducked lower now as wayward bullets flashed past their own boat, two of them slamming into the stern. Nonstop gunfire sounded from behind as the terrorists put on a spurt of speed in order to increase the gap.

  Crouch looked over to Terri, a question in his eyes.

  What’s next?

  She saw it and shrugged. She wanted to live but had already accepted that the decision was out of her hands.

  At the helm Ricci was laughing. Dragging a radio from underneath his bullet-proof jacket, he thumbed the button and spoke a single sentence.

  “Our choppers are incoming. Get ready to board the tanker.”

  Why the hell would he need choppers then?

  CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

  Alicia piloted the small but speedy craft with one hand, picking off terrorists with the other. All in all, if Crouch and Terri weren’t in danger, and good men and women hadn’t already lost their lives, it could be classed as a good day.

  Russo backed her up smartly from the side. The return fire was poor at best; it was rare that a bullet found the hull of the boat. Alicia saw the approach of the oil tanker and worried deeper as the boats approached. Vino radioed over that more than half a dozen police choppers were on their way, backed up by a coastguard vessel and a full-size ship. In the end, Agent Merriweather had been forced to call in a huge force.

  Alicia guessed they were twenty five meters behind the second terrorist motorboat when it started slowing to come alongside the oil tanker. She’d been wondering how they might board the vessel and now she knew.

  Figures could be seen on deck, throwing rope ladders over the side and securing them up top. Alicia counted seven winging their way down. It was going to be a fast ascent. Ricci in the lead boat came alongside and slowed his vessel to a crawl. Then he ordered two men up, it seemed. Alicia squinted to make it all out. Maybe these men would cover for the rest. She poured on the speed, quickly closing the gap to the oil tanker.

  Ricci forced Crouch up next and then jumped on right behind him. From her vantage point Alicia thought the leader appeared to be shoving the older man up, rung by rung. Other ladders were grabbed and utilized. Alicia was forced to swerve violen
tly as men in the nearest boat opened fire on the chasing vessels.

  She hit the deck, letting the wheel choose for itself. Across the way most of the FBI agents did the same.

  Easily, she discerned that the number of guns being fired was rapidly dwindling. That meant all the others were heading for the rope ladders.

  She rose and fired low, knowing Crouch and Terri were climbing. She allowed her aim to drift across, taking a bead on the other shooter. Before he could bring his weapon to bear on her, she put a hole through the front of his face. He tumbled backward in a haze of red, the gun falling from limp fingers.

  Now she saw the scope of their task. All the rope ladders were swinging as men climbed rapidly to the top. Most were over halfway to their goal. Two were climbing over the tanker’s top rail and already taking aim. Alicia saw Crouch struggling and Terri alongside, trying to lend a hand.

  Ricci jabbed his gun into Crouch’s thigh. Alicia couldn’t hear anything but guessed the threat would be ghastly, especially when she saw him turn the weapon on Terri.

  Crouch climbed.

  Alicia knew her ex-SAS and Ninth Division boss wouldn’t even consider leaving Terri behind, or risk her life. He would die first. She brought their boat in fast, bounced off the rear, then the side of a terrorist vessel, and then started running. She leaped from one boat to the next, landing sure-footed on the wooden deck. Russo was a shadow sprinter at her side. She climbed the boat’s rail and reached out for one of the rope ladders swinging against the side of the tanker.

  FBI agents lined the climbers up.

  Alicia saw them driven down by the men at the top of the tanker, probably Ricci’s best sharp-shooters. Agents loosed several shots but none found their mark. Most pinged off the side of the tanker. The cover fire raining down from above was too precise and thick to risk anything.

  She took hold of the rope in both hands, put one boot on the lowest rung and started to climb. Russo grabbed the one to her left. She noticed an FBI agent snagging another. Some of the others were lining up for a rope, waiting, but most still favored their cover.

  The terrorists climbed. Alicia grasped rung after rung, heaving herself up, practically running up the sheer side of the tanker. Russo fell a little behind. She found her stride and stuck to it. Her weapons were ready and within easy reach. Occasionally, she looked up to check her progress but for the most part she concentrated on the climb.

  A bullet winged its way past her shoulder, continuing down into the sea. She swore. What the bloody hell are the FBI doing? A moment later she heard a sharp volley from below, the agents protecting the climbers. Far up at the top of the rope ladders the shooters flung themselves backward to cover.

  Alicia saw more terrorists climbing over the rail; Ricci and Crouch getting closer and closer to the top. Terri struggled with her captor but soon stopped when he wrenched one of her arms away from a rung and pointed at the rolling sea below whilst waving his weapon.

  The tanker began to thrum then, its sides vibrating just a little. Alicia glanced down at Russo.

  “I think the assholes started their engines.”

  He nodded, not wasting words. Alicia knew he was saving his energy for the climb and what awaited them after that, but she couldn’t help but think he worried desperately about the berserker inside him too.

  She knew she would.

  It was the surprise element — not knowing when it would emerge or in what situation. What if it came at the wrong time? What if he caused damage to innocents? The red haze blinded him to everything. It was lucky Alicia had been at hand.

  She continued to fling herself up the side of the huge tanker. To her right now ropes wriggled as agents climbed too. Luckily, this particular oil tanker wasn’t high enough that a drop into the ocean would kill you; this fact gave everyone increased courage to climb quicker.

  If Crouch was somehow helping to slow the ascent, he was doing a good job. Alicia was only six meters below the last man, who carried a knife between his teeth. The trouble was he was only three meters from the railing.

  Coming closer, she heard the familiar whump-whump of helicopter rotor blades and a roaring engine. What had been specks were now distinct shapes to the south. Hopefully too, the coastguard vessels would be approaching from further down the coast. The game was surely up for Ricci and his hellbent cronies.

  As Ricci, Crouch and several others disappeared over the railing, Alicia paused. She fully expected guns to appear and more shooting to start. The agents were ready below to retaliate, Vino among them. But nothing happened — those on the tanker were preparing something else.

  With the lull in hostile aggression the agents fired up at the two remaining terrorist climbers. One took a slug directly in the back, lost his grip, and fell amidst a haze of blood. The other, the one with the knife in his mouth, didn’t flinch as two bullets impacted right beside his climbing arm. He was already at the top.

  He swung himself over.

  A third bullet skimmed the top of his head and then he was gone.

  Alicia scaled the tanker’s side faster, approaching the top herself. Agents were not far below. Those still on the boats took a steady aim to protect their colleagues.

  When she reached the top she paused, then raised her head quickly and dropped it back down again, taking a quick peek.

  The first thing she noticed was not the deck of the ship. It was something far more worrying. Over the far side, approaching from the north, was another set of helicopters. That meant two different groups were inbound.

  What did it mean?

  She couldn’t even begin to guess. A second quick recce revealed that the terrorists and their captives were running over to the other side of the ship, angling toward the front. They weren’t hanging around either, Alicia saw, just charging in a large group.

  Weirder and weirder.

  “You nodded off?” The voice came from a meter below.

  Alicia looked down at Russo. “Just trying to figure this shit out. They didn’t try to stop us boarding the ship. They’re jogging on right now as if their arses are on fire. And there’s another set of helicopters coming.”

  “What?” Russo climbed up alongside her for a look.

  Alicia relayed her words across the radio too.

  More agents joined them at the top. Alicia shrugged. “No point hanging around here, guys. Let’s get to it.”

  She checked once more and then leapt aboard. The deck was flat, rusty in places and dirty, and smelling of thick crude oil. It forced her to breathe shallowly even though her heart heaved with all the exertion so far. Helicopters still bore down on them from two different directions.

  “FBI choppers,” an agent came over to her, “are the ones to the right, coming along the coastline. The ones from the north are not ours.”

  “Wouldn’t it have made more sense for our terrorists to let their choppers collect them from the shore?” Russo asked.

  “Maybe.” Alicia was already starting to jog carefully in the terrorists’ wake, keeping them in sight. “This could be Plan B. They didn’t have a whole lot of time at the beach. Or maybe it’s something else.”

  “I’m bloody dying to find out what,” Russo growled.

  Alicia looked at him. “Dammit, Rob, you should know not to say shit like that by now!”

  CHAPTER THIRTY NINE

  A late afternoon shimmer of deep crimson and gold burnished the tropical paradise as Alicia, Russo, Caitlyn, Austin, a host of FBI agents and the Hawaiian police chased down half a dozen remaining terrorists, their captive Terri, and their boss, Ricci.

  Caitlyn, Austin and five agents had remained on the boats below but were now climbing the rope ladders. Paul Cutler, the thief they had brought along, didn’t seem to be anywhere around. Nobody had seen him since the jetty.

  At the front of the pack, Alicia ran as fast as she dared, mixing care with abandon and using her years of experience. The terrorists didn’t look around, but maintained a breakneck pace for the ship’s
prow.

  Clearly, they were going for the inbound helicopters.

  The terrorist choppers would arrive several minutes before the police ones. It would give them barely enough time to take on the new passengers and start to scuttle away. Alicia reached the other side of the tanker now and saw yet one more welcome sight.

  The coastguard vessel, cutting the ocean apart in their direction, a bow wave blooming to left and right. It was a heavily armed ship with many men aboard and surely now would be the final blow to Ricci’s escape plan. Alicia didn’t exactly stop to wave but threw them a super-bright beam of a smile.

  “Hello, sailors. Come to mama!”

  Quickly she radioed it in to Vino. No point risking any form of friendly fire. The coastguard vessel was equipped with all manner of armaments and gadgets and would surely be able to force Ricci to give up.

  The speed it was traveling at suggested it would arrive just a minute or two after the first set of choppers. It was going to be close.

  Alicia saw Ricci and Terri slow as they approached the front of the ship. Ricci appeared to be shouting into a two-way radio.

  “Gonne be up to us to stop them, Robster.”

  “Do we really need to?” the big man wondered. “With all this firepower around they’re not going to get far.”

  “True, but what about Crouch and Terri? We can’t risk hurt coming to either of them. For all we know they’re gonna dump them overboard to gain just a few seconds.”

  “Or use them as hostages,” Russo acknowledged.

  At that moment she saw Caitlyn and Austin tracking them on the other side of the ship among a dozen agents and cops.

  “Be careful, you two,” she radioed across. “I don’t trust this scenario one bit.”

  “We’re fine! Have you seen Cutler?”

  “I thought he was with you.”

  “We haven’t seen him since leaving the jetty.”

  “Damn, if that asshole’s cut and run I’ll hunt him down and end his days.”