by Johnny Asa
“And what if I get wet anyway?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Then you’re back at square one,” he replied, shrugging. “So you may as well try.”
“I suppose,” I muttered, rubbing my chin in thought. “Did you get the other stuff I asked about?”
“The C4 and the guns? Yeah, they’re in the waterproof bag at the bottom. They weren’t cheap, and you owe me. It was why this took so long.” He waved a hand at the darkening horizon as the wind blew by. “We have time, but not much. We’ll definitely need to hurry.”
“Roger,” I said, taking the two bags down the steps and tossing them in the small alcove behind the desk. Then I grabbed a life jacket and brought it back upstairs with me. “Put this on.” I held it out to Ren.
“I don’t really do life jackets.” He wrinkled his nose. “The way I figure it is if I fall in, that will just prolong the agony.”
“Look, buddy, if you wear the jacket, I’ll come back and get you.” I shook the jacket at him. “At least give me a fighting chance to do it.”
He thought about it for a moment and nodded. “Fair enough.” He took the jacket from me and put it on. “What’s the whistle for?” He fingered the orange whistle tied to one of the straps.
“It’s so that when you fall in and get tired of screaming for help, you can still make noise.” I shot him a hard look before turning to look at Mary Ann. “Tell him.”
“Billy’s right.” She adjusted something else on the jib before hopping down and coming toward me.
“Fine,” Ren said, rolling his eyes and putting up his hands. “I get it.”
“I think we’re ready,” Mary Ann said, waving a hand at the rigging. “Well, based on what I remember. I haven’t been on the Storm Ryder in a year.”
“You went on it that recently?” I asked, somewhat surprised.
“Yeah, your dad was teaching me to sail, but I ran out of money to pay him for lessons.” She fidgeted. “He didn’t ask for money, but I felt bad making him do it for free.”
“He probably liked the company,” I said, feeling guilty because my dad had been trying to get me to come out and sail with him for a couple years, and I hadn’t because I hadn’t wanted to see Mary Ann. Not after what I’d done to her. Too scared and stupid.
“Now don’t you go feeling bad,” she said, moving beside me and touching my arm with one delicate finger. “I know that look, and let me just say, I’m glad you’re back.” She smiled at me, and it made her eyes sparkle like the ocean around us.
“Yes, ma’am,” I said as the sun started to set, casting hues of gold, purple, and aqua across the horizon. “You wanna steer?”
“Why don’t you do it for now? We can trade when the sails need to go up.” She flopped down opposite Ren. “Or are you under the impression I got on this boat to work harder than I absolutely had to?”
“You make an excellent point.” I nodded.
“Besides, we all know the first thirty-six feet and the last thirty-six feet of any sail is the most dangerous. You trying to pawn that off on me, Billy Ryder?” she asked, raising a shapely eyebrow at me.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” I made my way behind the steering wheel, knelt down, and made sure the kill key was pushed in. Then I turned the key to the on position and hit the second button from the right. The ship roared to life, and as it did, I turned to look out the back. My heart sank.
“No water coming out the back,” I muttered, scratching my head as I tried in vain to think of what might have gone wrong. I hastily turned back to the engine and pulled the pull key, causing the boat to shut off. I didn’t want to risk the engine burning up when water wasn’t cycling through.
“Did you check the thru-hull? I remember your dad always keeping them closed,” Mary Ann offered, and as she spoke, I felt my cheeks heat up. She was right, of course, and I hadn’t even checked.
“You’re a genius,” I said, moving past her and going to the valve. I opened it and smirked. I’d grabbed the key right off the top of the valve and forgotten to open it. If it’d been my boat, I’d have deserved to burn up the engine.
“I know,” she said as I returned and moved back to start the boat. This time when I pressed the button, water did come out the backside. I glanced around, making sure there were no lines still attached to the dock. Once satisfied I was okay, I began to pull out into the water.
“Say, what are the coordinates for the Hard Tide?” I asked, glancing at Ren. “I wanna put them in the GPS.”
“Not gonna use a chart?” He gestured at the boat. “I hear that’s what sailors do.”
“No. They’re downstairs for one and covered in coffee and beer stains. And besides, I want something actively tracking our target.”
“I was just messing with you.” He glanced at his screen for a moment, before looking up at me and telling me the coordinates which I punched into the onboard Garmin GPS.
It was a few miles away and wouldn’t take too long to reach. Even still, I could tell by the way the sun was dipping into the horizon, it’d be dark well before we arrived. Hopefully, that’d be to our advantage.
24
Even though the Hard Tide was in the direction of the damned wind, we were still making good time since I’d managed to keep us at a close-reach for most of the time. Or at least we were making good time because with about a mile until we needed to switch over the headsail and tack, the wind died down to nothing. As I stared at the luffing sails while trying desperately to turn the boat to keep them full, I knew it was pointless.
“Damn,” I muttered, gesturing at the sails. “No wind.”
“So why don’t you just turn on the motor and keep going?” Ren asked as I bent down to do just that.
“That’s not the problem,” Mary Ann said, sitting a little straighter in her seat and looking up at me with a concerned expression.
“What’s the problem then?” Ren followed her gaze, confusion on his face. “I don’t see anything. Clouds are too thick.”
“The problem is that when the wind dies like that, it usually means we’re about to get bad weather real soon. Normally, any sailor would turn back now.” I sighed as the motor started. I got back up to continue toward our destination. “Something, we can’t afford to do.”
“How do you know?” Ren asked, clutching his laptop tightly to his chest.
“I suggest you put that away downstairs if you want to keep it,” Mary Ann said, waving a hand at the computer. “Because things are about to get a lot worse.”
Ren nodded, doing as she said as I threw the throttle forward, sending the Storm Ryder leaping over the waves. Even though it was dark, I could tell from the way the white foam on the crests of the long waves was blowing off that we were somewhere around a six on the Beaufort scale. If it was going to get worse, that would mean we’d be in full gale-force conditions. Damn.
It happened without warning about half a mile later. The wind picked up, slamming into the sails and sending us rocketing forward at nearly ten knots. It was crazy because we’d been doing about five and a half with the motor, which had felt fast until the wind had picked up.
Waves crested all around us, throwing spray across the front of the boat as I did my best to keep us on target. The wheel fought beneath my hands as Mary Ann scurried up toward the rigging for the mainsail, trying to adjust it.
“You wanna switch?” I cried over the wind and waves as we came down off the crest of a wave to slam down into the water. As the impact thudded up through my belly, the wave we’d come over crashed down into the back of the boat, soaking me to the bone in salty water. My eyes went wide as a rush of cold went over me, and even if I hadn’t been awake, I was now.
“Are these kinds of waves normal?” Ren asked right before we lurched up over a wave, and his face turned green. His cheeks bulged like a chipmunk as he spun in his seat, thrust his head toward the safety wire, and puked all over the side of the damned boat.
“No. This is abnormally bad,
” Mary Ann said, moving across the distance between them and rubbing his back. “It’s okay, Ren. There are only two kinds of sailors anyway. The one’s who have been seasick, and the ones who are going to be seasick.”
Ren didn’t respond because he was too busy vomiting.
“Man, I actually feel bad for bringing you now,” I said, fighting against the wheel as another wave sent us slamming back into the sea. It was pissing me off because if it was daytime, I’d have been able to see the waves and would have been less subject to the sea’s whims.
“Not as bad as I feel,” Ren replied as the sea kicked up again, forcing the boat damned near up on its side. I braced my feet against the corner of the boat, fighting to stay upright while Mary Ann grabbed onto one of the handles for support. I really hoped no one fell out now because if someone did, it’d be hard as hell to get them back.
The sails whipped as we came back down, and I turned the boat hard to the left in an effort to keep out of the no-sail zone. As I got the Storm Ryder back under control, another wave came up over the bow, spraying me with saltwater moments before we went back up on our side. The main sail practically touched the ocean as I fought for control again.
“If you get tired, I can take over for a bit,” Mary Ann said, shooting a dubious glance at Ren. “Since I doubt your buddy can take over.”
I nodded, glancing at the Garmin. We still had about twenty minutes to our target, partially because we were now doing almost eleven knots. “I think I’ve got about twenty more minutes in me before I need to rest.”
“Is that what it says on there?” she asked as we went practically horizontal again, and I dug my foot into the corner, causing the sea water that spilled inside to soak through my sneaker. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure the boat could handle it, and we’d be really screwed if the mast just ripped out of the boat from the wind.
“Yep,” I replied as we came back down, and I was treated to water running off the end of the bench behind me and down the back of my legs.
“Then you should let me take over. You need to get all that scuba gear on, and we won’t be able to circle well like this.” She started moving toward me, keeping her hand on the railing as she did so. “Besides, you’re going to have to make a negative descent because of the conditions.” She shook her head. “I do not envy you. Night diving is bad enough.”
“Yeah, I hate night dives too. It’s worse because you know there are sharks down there who can see a whole hell of a lot better than you can.” I nodded as she grabbed the wheel, stabilizing it.
As I let go and tried to make my way toward the cabin, the boat went up on its side, and I reached out, grabbing onto the steel for support. As we crashed back down and spray hit me in the face, I turned back to Mary Ann. “I want you both to tether in.” I jerked a thumb at Ren. “Him especially.”
Ren threw up by way of response.
“Okay,” Mary Ann said, reaching into the cubby beside the starter and pulling out a tether. She hooked one end to her jacket and the other to the railing. Then she tossed another to me. I caught it and got Ren all hooked in.
Satisfied, I headed below. It was hard as hell to stay stable because the boat kept rocking like a son of a gun, but I did my best to pull my ass into the suit I’d been given. It made me feel a little ridiculous, but I ignored it because Ren was right. If I was going to be infiltrating a party full of thugs in three-piece suits, I should try to blend in.
I sat down on the bench and pulled on a pair of sweat-wicking socks before pulling the dry suit on and was immediately happy it had dry socks already attached. Ren had thought of everything. A couple minutes later, I was all zipped up and had tightened the straps around the gloves and booties.
Satisfied I wasn’t going to get my suit wet unless I sprung a leak, I got back on my feet and pulled the hood out of the bag before pulling it on. It took a minute to get it adjusted, but once it was, I was burning up. It was always crazy to me how quickly the temperature went from tolerable to intolerable when I had full scuba gear on.
Still, I was nearly ready to get in the water. I grabbed the waterproof bag containing the C4, keycard, and Glock from the scuba bag and attached it to the dangle on my hip. I checked it to make sure there were no obvious holes, then I grabbed the aluminum tank and hauled it out. A quick turn of the knob let me know there was air inside. Hopefully, it’d be enough to get me there.
I took a moment to get it out onto the deck and cursed as the boat rocked, throwing me into the bench.
“You should have stuck it in the rack before we got underway,” Mary Ann said, muscles straining as she fought against the wheel. All around me foam was spraying, and if it hadn’t been for my dry suit, I’d have been soaked as water splashed me. Damn. We were likely going to have to close the doors to the cabin to keep from getting water inside and sinking the old girl.
“I know,” I snapped, more angry at myself than her as I wrestled the air tank into the rack and pulled the Velcro strap tight. “But you know the thing about hindsight being twenty, twenty.”
“Don’t you snap at me because you’re mad at yourself, Billy Rider,” Mary Ann said as she spun the wheel, allowing us to take a wave at an angle. Even still, the front of the boat was nearly buried beneath the water.
“Sorry, ma’am. Won’t happen again,” I replied before going down below and grabbing my fins and mask. I headed back up, and as I got to the top, I pulled the doors shut and secured them with the lock to keep them from opening.
“See that it doesn’t,” she replied as I pulled my fins on. I always hated walking around the boat in fins, but there was no way I’d be able to put them on in the water. Not with it being this rough and me having to do a negative-buoyancy entry.
Despite all the tossing of the seas, I had the air tank strapped in and ready to go a moment later, and as I sat there watching the surf, I spotted a bright green beacon in the distance.
“Is that it?” I asked, pointing.
Ren gave me a sickly nod. “Yeah. I think so. I remember reading about the beacon.”
“I feel like you should have pointed that out earlier,” Mary Ann said, and as Ren raised one hand to reply, the boat lurched. He threw himself back toward the edge as his stomach emptied more of its contents over the side.
“I find it hard to believe you have anything left inside you,” I said as I donned my mask and prepared to enter.
“I do too,” he mumbled as we came closer, and I noticed other boats all around. We were close now, and if we got much closer, they might spot us.
“Here’s good. We’re at least a quarter mile off,” I said, climbing up on the side. “I don’t want you two getting too close.”
“Be careful, Billy,” Mary Ann said, and I nodded back at her.
“I will,” I said right before I stepped off the edge of a perfectly good boat and fell into the water on purpose.
25
As I hit the water and plunged through the churning waves and into the ocean’s depths, I marveled at how quickly the temperature changed. I’d scuba dived a bunch of times, and every single time it amazed me how quickly I went from sweating like a pig, to comfortable, to downright chilly.
Fortunately, I was in Florida, so the water was quite a bit warmer than Monterey Bay back in California. Because I was wearing a suit and tie beneath the dry suit and not something a bit warmer, I was surprised at how warm I was. I knew most people didn’t bother with wetsuits at all out in the Caribbean, and the one time I’d scuba dived in Jamaica, I’d just worn a t-shirt and board shorts, but it was still shocking.
Since I hadn’t put any air into my dry suit to provide buoyancy, I plunged beneath the waves. A few moments later, I kicked my legs a couple times and hit the button on my chest to move some air from my tank into the suit itself. A second later I’d stabilized myself about fifteen feet down. I took a moment to grab my flashlight off my hip and flick it on. The beam sliced through the darkness, giving me a lance of narrow visibility.
&
nbsp; I hadn’t known what to expect given the churning sea, but I was immediately thankful the water wasn’t cloudy. Even still, my heart hammered in my chest as I swung the beam in a slow circle, on the lookout for sharks. That was the thing about the ocean, there were always sharks around, and just because you just couldn’t see them from the surface didn’t mean they weren’t there.
Satisfied none were close enough to take a bite out of me, I crossed my arms over my chest, while holding my light to illuminate my path. I began to kick with slow, straight-legged efficiency, allowing my fins to do most of the work, while I balanced and tried to breathe as steadily as possible.
My oxygen use began to slow. A quick glance at my gauge let me know I had about thirty minutes of air in the tank. Still that was counting the lungfuls I’d gulped when I’d jumped in, and what I was using for my suit, so I likely had a bit more, especially since the water was warm.
I took another swallow of air, marveling that I was underwater and nearly weightless as my GPS pinged to let me know I was heading toward the target. By my estimation, it’d only take me about fifteen minutes to swim the quarter-mile or so. Granted that was a bit slower than my old training days where I’d do a whole mile in forty-five minutes, but I didn’t want to waste unnecessary energy on the way there.
Half of survival was being less tired than the other guys. Once I got on that ship, there were going to be a whole hell of a lot of other guys.
Still, I couldn’t focus on that now because I was fast approaching the boat. Part of me had hoped I’d find some sort of makeshift dock attached to the Hard Tide for easy boarding, but not only did I not see anything like that, but I couldn’t find any other boats in the water nearby. Evidently, everyone had gotten aboard some other way. That was going to make getting aboard difficult, especially since I didn’t see an anchor chain in the water I could climb up.