Clay stared at the wall in front of him before turning back to Caesare. “Where’s Borger?”
Josias finally dropped the last of the servers onto the cockpit floor with a “clunk.” The pile was nearly waist high with all three servers, the diving gear, the boat’s marine radio that had been ripped out, all navigational instruments, fuel, some food, and several electronic devices. Not a huge bounty, but it turned out not to be a complete loss either. Josias twisted his wrist and glanced at the watch he’d taken off Chris. They had less than four hours before first light, and they were going to need all of it to put as much distance possible between them and the Prowler. He just needed to get Carlo off before things got any worse.
Just then, Carlo stepped back outside behind them. He dropped the boat’s water maker onto the pile in disgust. Four people had to have more than this, but he couldn’t find anything else. He’d beaten the two men, but they revealed nothing more than what they’d already found. But there was still one more thing.
He glanced at Josias standing next to him with his rifle slung loosely over one shoulder. Junior was now on their boat, leaning over the edge with a hand on the side on the Prowler waiting to bring things aboard.
“It’s getting late,” Josias said. “We have to go.”
Carlo checked his own watch. “Not yet.” With a snarl, he looked at the four people still bound and gagged on the floor. The men’s faces were beginning to turn black and blue. One of them looked to be unconscious. He turned to the two women, lying still at his feet.
Josias watched with grim acceptance as Carlo’s face took on a seething, sickening appearance. The women on the floor were both exceptionally attractive, and he was hoping Carlo’s reluctance to harm them was intentional. But now, watching him stare at them on the floor, Josias knew he was wrong.
Carlo’s upper lip seemed to curl up strangely, revealing his mangled teeth. He abruptly reached down, pulled Kelly up off the floor, and flung her over his back. Without a word, he marched back inside and down the stairs to one of the bedrooms. Less than a minute later, he came back for Alison.
He dropped Alison onto the mattress next to Kelly. Both lay on their backs, neither able to move their hands beneath them.
They both watched in horror as Carlo turned and slammed the cabin door shut. When he stepped toward them, he realized why both had remained so calm outside.
Both women were saving their energy, and almost at once, they released it in a torrent. They began kicking Carlo with every ounce of strength they had, beating him in the chest and face, sending him stumbling backward.
Outside, Josias shook his head and set his rifle down. He picked up two of the heavy jerry cans and scurried to the port side.
Junior straightened up and pulled harder on the line to retie the two boats together. A warm wind was picking up and the two vessels were trying to drift away from each other.
It was the wind that helped. That and the struggling women below deck, of course. Together, along with the sound of the waves around them, both Josias and Junior were prevented from hearing the sound until it was almost on top of them.
The sound of helicopter rotor blades.
42
“Carlo!” Josias burst in through the cabin door. “We have trouble!”
Carlo jumped and whirled around. Behind him, Josias could see the shorter woman’s blouse was torn, exposing her bikini top underneath. Carlo didn’t bother replying. He followed Josias back out and up the short set of steps. From there, they ran back out into the darkness to find a giant Oceanhawk helicopter circling the boat.
“Shit!” cried Carlo. He turned and followed the helicopter as it circled less than a hundred yards away around the port side of the boat, then the stern. “Is it the Coast Guard?”
Junior shook his head. “I think it’s their Navy.”
“Throw me a light,” Carlo barked.
Junior rushed to a nearby storage compartment and lifted the old lid. He withdrew a giant flashlight and swung his arm out, throwing it across.
Carlo snatched the light out of the air and turned it on, still watching the chopper as it began another slow circle around the boat. The light was bright enough to partially illuminate the aircraft and revealed the giant side door that was open. Sitting on the inside, someone was leaning out with half of his face behind the night vision scope of an M40A5 sniper rifle.
They remained frozen, continuing to follow the helicopter as it slowly circled a third time, then a fourth. When it completed the fifth circle, the Oceanhawk slowed and stopped near the stern, hovering in place. Steve Caesare, holding the M40A5 rifle tight against his shoulder, never wavered.
The three men gripped their AK-47s tightly. Carlo glanced around the Prowler’s cockpit. It was a mess. There was no chance of lying their way out of this. He let his finger find the trigger guard on the gun, then snake its way around the trigger. “Don’t do anything!” Carlo yelled over the thundering blades. “Wait and see what they do.”
No one moved for a long time. They waited, continuing to watch the helicopter that was still hovering.
Finally, Josias twisted his mouth toward Carlo. “What are they doing?”
“I don’t know.” Carlo continued staring. The U.S. military was ruthless. They would not be fooled no matter how fast he talked. To them, attacking an American boat was basically an act of war. There was no chance of getting off the boat easily with a Navy helicopter and sniper overhead. They would have to make their own exit. “How many do you see?” he asked loudly.
“Just one,” Josias replied.
“Junior?”
Junior looked carefully into the flashlight’s beam, still shining against the helicopter. “I see only one.”
Carlo’s eye narrowed. He was no scholar, but he could count. The sniper might be a good shot, but if the three of them opened fire at the same time, two of them might get away. Especially if they could make it to the launcher on their boat. “Junior,” he said, looking sideways. “Start the engine.”
Junior began to move but quickly froze again. Carlo growled at him for not following orders but suddenly saw the look on Junior’s face. With eyes wide, he was staring across the boat and over Carlo’s right shoulder.
Josias turned and gasped as well, forcing Carlo to slowly turn around. A man was standing on the white fiberglass roof of the Prowler’s salon. He was dressed in black fatigues, which were soaked and dripping with water. Carlo stared briefly at the man’s bare feet and quickly followed them up his legs to the barrel of an M4 assault rifle. There was no doubt where it was pointed. It was aimed directly at Carlo’s head.
John Clay spoke from behind the sights. “Don’t…move.”
They didn’t. They remained very still, moving only with the gentle rocking of the boat. Carlo could clearly see Clay’s finger on the M4’s trigger.
From the roof, Clay glanced down into the cockpit. “Where are the women?”
“Down below.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
Clay looked directly at Carlo. “Tell your men to throw their guns in the water.”
Carlo repeated the command, and both Josias and Junior threw their AKs over the stern into the dark rolling waves.
“Now you do the same.”
Carlo complied, reluctantly.
Clay kept his right finger on the trigger and reached up to his ear with his left hand. He pressed the small ear bud in firmly. “You there, Steve?”
“Affirmative.”
“Light ‘em up.”
A moment later, a bright red dot from Caesare’s scope appeared on Carlo’s back.
Clay turned to Carlo and his men. “Face down on the deck. Hands flat on the back of your head. Right now.”
All three simultaneously dropped onto their stomachs and reached back behind their heads, as instructed.
The red dot from Caesare’s rifle followed Carlo down, where it continued dancing within a small circle on his back.
Cl
ay stepped back and raised his weapon. He spoke to Caesare, loudly enough for the others to hear. “They’re yours. If one of them so much as raises his head, take it off.”
“Nothing would make me happier.”
With that, Clay instantly turned and ducked inside.
He quickly scanned the salon and ran down the starboard stairs, searching both cabins. Nothing. He ran back up, across the salon, and down into the port hull. There he saw both women bound on the bed, struggling to get the gags out of their mouths.
Clay rushed into the cabin and grabbed Alison, checking her for injuries. Seeing none, he eased the gag out and turned to Kelly. She had a small laceration on her cheek, but otherwise looked unharmed.
“John!” Alison sputtered, clearing her mouth.
“You okay, honey?”
“What are you doing here?”
“We weren’t that far away.” Removing the gag from Kelly’s jaws, he then gently rolled her over and withdrew a large knife from behind his back. It sliced through the duct tape effortlessly. “Are you hurt, Kelly?”
She felt her cut. “It could be a lot worse.”
Clay turned to free Alison. After returning the knife to its sleeve, he grabbed her and pulled her in close. She wrapped her arms tightly around him.
“Boy, are you a sight for sore eyes.”
Clay smiled and pushed Alison back just enough to kiss her.
After a long moment, Alison leaned back with warm, watery eyes. “I think you forgot your shining armor.”
Clay smiled at her attempt at humor, before standing back up. “Too heavy. I left it on the chopper.” He pulled both women to their feet. “I need to check on Chris and Lee.”
As he reached out and pushed the door back, Caesare’s voice broke in over his headset. “Clay, we’ve got an urgent call from Langford.”
“Take a message.”
Back up top, Clay found Chris just regaining consciousness. Clay double-checked his pulse and removed the tape from his hands. He then gently bent one of Chris’ knees and rolled him onto his side. He retrieved a cushion from a nearby seat, sliding it under his head.
Lee’s face, like Chris’, was covered in cuts that were beginning to bruise. Clay freed his hands and helped him up into a sitting position. He lightly patted down his legs, looking for anything else. “Anything hurt?”
Lee shook his head. “Not below my head.” He forced a smile through his cut lips. “I’m very glad to see you, Mr. Clay.”
Clay smiled and rose up. He clapped Lee gently on the shoulder. “So am I, Lee.”
He found the tape inside the cabin and knelt back down, jamming the ball of his knee painfully into Carlo’s back. Pulling the man’s arms down behind him, Clay wrapped them together tightly at the wrist. He then moved to the other two.
When Clay finally stood back up, Caesare’s red dot disappeared. A few minutes later, the helicopter drifted over the boat, allowing Caesare to rappel down. He unclipped and stepped over Chris with Kelly kneeling at his side.
Caesare crossed the cockpit and stopped next to Carlo. With one of his boots, he dug into Carlo’s gut and forced him over onto his back. Caesare squatted down next to the Haitian and looked into his dark eyes. There was no trace of remorse.
He raised his voice over the thundering helicopter above. “You sure picked the wrong boat, eh?”
Carlo jerked his head up and spat, but Caesare’s reaction was instant. He drove a powerful fist straight into Carlo’s face, slamming his head against the cockpit floor.
Caesare stood up, watching Carlo’s eyes roll upward. He came in close to Alison so she could hear him and nodded out toward the swirling water. “Any chance dolphins would eat a human?”
“I wish.”
He frowned and then addressed Clay. “Langford says you need to get back to the Bowditch, pronto.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“He said it was urgent. He asked me to apologize to Alison.” He looked at her. “Which is rare for the Admiral. Don’t worry, John, I’ll stay and bring them in.”
Alison gripped Clay’s arm. “Do you have to go right this second?”
He peered at the Oceanhawk with its blades still beating the air above them. One of the pilots had his helmet against his side window, looking down and waiting.
“I’m afraid so,” he sighed. “They’re burning fuel.” Clay sized up the jerry cans in front of him. “You should have more than enough to reach the Bowditch.”
He surprised Alison when he wrapped his arms around her and gave her a long kiss. “You’ll be fine with Steve. He should have you to the ship by noon at the latest. Just get some rest and take care of Lee and Chris.”
“Okay, we will.”
He nodded at Caesare. “The bag is on the bow.”
Clay smiled at Kelly before grabbing the harness, still lying on the deck. He clipped himself in, grabbed the rope, and gave the signal to raise him.
From the deck, Alison watched Clay quickly ascend up towards the helicopter. From there, the copilot reached out and pulled him in, not letting go until Clay got his footing.
The front of the helicopter immediately dipped forward and accelerated. Within moments, it was gone, and the thundering blades faded into the night.
Carlo fell hard, striking his face against the filthy deck of his speedboat. The craft was larger than one would have expected, which meant it was likely stolen from a previous victim.
“Whoops. Sorry about that,” Caesare said, then dropped Josias next to Carlo with the same force and bounced him off Junior, who was already face down.
Caesare turned and stepped back over the side. With a short hop, he landed on the edge of the Prowler and stepped down next to one of the seats. He opened Clay’s large waterproof bag and withdrew a Springfield .40 caliber semi-automatic. Before he returned to the speedboat, he glanced over his shoulder to Alison and Kelly, who were both watching. “Cover your ears.”
They watched him hop back into the other boat. The women suddenly froze when he pointed the gun down and, without hesitation, rapidly unloaded the entire magazine.
Oh, my god! Alison stood horrified. They were both speechless…until Caesare reached down and turned something. He then pulled up on a large panel, which looked to have over a dozen neatly placed holes in it.
It was one of the panels to the engine compartment. Even without direct light, Caesare could make out the dark fluids squirting out of the thick damaged hoses and pooling at the bottom of the compartment. With a satisfied nod, he dropped the panel and let it clang shut. “That’ll do.”
The men were still watching wide-eyed from the floor of their boat when Caesare crossed back over, untied the line, and pushed off.
As they floated away, he called out a heartfelt, “Bon voyage!”
43
It was still dark when deckhands guided the Oceanhawk down onto the Bowditch’s pad. Clay slid the heavy door open and jumped down beneath the slowing rotor blades. He trotted to the base of the metal stairs where Neely Lawton was waiting for him.
“They’re waiting for us,” she said, waving him up the stairs as she started climbing. Clay followed her up and checked his watch. It was four thirty-five a.m.
When they reached the small conference room, Captain Krogstad and Will Borger were already seated at the table. On-screen were a tired looking Admiral Langford and Merl Miller. Kathryn Lokke appeared surprisingly alert.
Clay and Lawton sat down on opposite sides, keeping all of them just within frame of the small camera above the monitor.
“Everyone,” Krogstad said, “I’d like to introduce Commander Neely Lawton, our resident biology expert and head of the research team aboard this ship. She is the one who requested this meeting. I can also assure you she is as sharp as they come.”
If the introduction bothered Lawton, she didn’t show it. Only Langford knew that she was also Krogstad’s daughter.
Lawton cleared her voice. “I’m sorry to bother all of you at thi
s early hour, but I have some information that I think you will all agree warranted an immediate call. As you know, my team has been studying the sample which Commander Clay brought aboard from one of the Chinese trucks.” She pressed a button on her laptop and a picture of the sample appeared on the monitor for all to see.
“Now, please be aware that we have had less than forty-eight hours to study it, so for all intents and purposes this should be considered a preliminary finding.” She paused for any questions. Receiving none, she continued. “We began with tests on all of the plant cells’ organelles: nucleus, ribosomes, mitochondria, everything. Finding nothing unusual, we then examined the plant’s chloroplast and thylakoid spaces and measured its photosynthesis properties.”
“And?” asked Langford.
“Its photosynthesis capacity appears to be above average, but not by much.”
“So, you’re saying there is nothing special about its photosynthesis?” Langford asked.
“Correct. Nor is there any significant oil composition or production that we can detect. Again, this is a preliminary examination. There are still more tests to carry out, but I can say with some degree of confidence that these initial measurements are accurate.”
Miller rubbed his eyes. “Commander Lawton, I presume there is at least something noteworthy for us to discuss on this call.”
“Yes, sir. After finding nothing in the preliminary tests, we decided to dig deeper. As you may know, DNA has already been mapped for many modern plants, but to do a complete mapping here would take months, even in a larger laboratory. But we did study its chromosomes. In particular: their lengths, the position of centromeres, and branding patterns. The name of this kind of study is called karyology, and we found something interesting.”
“The somatic cells of humans, as we all know, have forty-six chromosomes. Orangutans and gorillas have forty-eight. Animals like bears and wolves range through the sixties and seventies. Plants, on the other hand, generally have a lot less. So these somatic numbers vary from species to species.”
Leap - 02 Page 20