by Jack Ford
Once on deck, the ship looked like any other ship the three of them had been on over the years during their esteemed careers. Though, as vessels went, compared to the majority of the colossal US Navy ships Maddie had served on, this was somewhat diminutive.
‘You know guys, I’m not real comfortable looking around without a weapon,’ Cooper said.
Striding purposefully along the deck, Rosedale came to an abrupt halt by a large grey door, which neither Maddie nor Cooper had noticed.
‘You’d think they might lock this,’ said Rosedale as it swung open to reveal a wall-mounted gun rack containing an arsenal of automatic weapons. ‘You never know who might come along.’ He unlatched a Colt M4 carbine and threw it at Cooper. Hard. ‘Happy now?’
Making sure the gun was loaded, Cooper nodded. ‘I think you already know the answer to that one… Okay, Maddie, seeing as this was your idea. What are you calling?’
‘Split up. Take a look around. It’s pretty small so it shouldn’t take long. Rosedale, do you want to take the pilothouse and bridges? Tom, why don’t you take the engine and store rooms and anything else which looks interesting on the lower decks?’
‘Great, just how I wanted to spend a sunny afternoon; down in a dark basement.’
‘I’d say you were already there, Thomas, wouldn’t you?’
‘Rosedale. Tom. Can you guys quit? Right, I’ll take the deck, galley and the different quarters. We’ll sync watches and meet back here in twenty minutes. And seeing as you’re handing them out, throw me one of those guns, Rosedale. Preferably that Smith and Wesson M & P15.’
Rosedale raised his eyebrows, smiling warmly. ‘You like your semi-automatics, don’t you, Maddie? Remind me never to give you reason to come after me.’
‘Rosedale, if I ever came after you, you wouldn’t even see me coming.’
FIVE MILES OUTSIDE GOROM-GOROM,
BURKINA FASO, WEST AFRICA
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Slumped at the entrance of a large canvas tent, legs wide apart to ease the straining trousers around his heavy thighs, the Commandant sat on a hot metal chair, surrounded by a number of gathered soldiers, swatting away the flies which landed with noisy anticipation on the seeping sweat that trickled leisurely from between the fat rolls of his neck.
A foot away from where he sat, slightly away from the others, a single soldier, cross-legged on the floor, stared motionlessly down at the grains of sand, watching as they began to whirl in the warm African winds which were starting to pick up.
‘Who? Who amongst you… Amira, will you? Or how about you?’ the Commandant said. He pointed to a rangy male, his white eyes sketched with fine red lines, looking out from sunburnt skin.
‘Stand up. Go on…’
The soldier stood. Fearful. Hesitant. Glancing towards the cross-legged soldier.
‘Go on.’
‘I can’t, Commandant.’
Slowly – very, very slowly – the Commandant got up, his thick body moving surprisingly gracefully towards the source of his displeasure. ‘Can’t?’
Hot painful tears, as if edged by fire, burnt down onto the soldier’s face. He shook his head fervently and his tiny voice filled with the cry of torment. ‘Yes, Commandant, I can’t… I can’t… He’s my brother.’
‘Shoot him.’
‘I can’t. Please. I can’t.’
As slowly as he’d moved before, the Commandant raised his arm, pointing his gun at the soldier. Grinding the muzzle against his head. ‘Shoot him!’
‘I’m begging you, Commandant. Don’t make me! Please!’
‘Je dis maintenant! Shoot him!’
Quaking with fear, the soldier struggled to hold still his gun. Then, like the Commandant had done, he too raised his arm, pointing it at the head of his brother, whose violent trembles convulsed his body.
‘Shoot.’
The soldier closed his eyes, hearing his brother’s pleas for mercy.
‘I said shoot! Shoot! Shoot!’
The bellowing from the Commandant merged into the bellowing blast of the gun into the bellowing cries of the soldier, ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry…’
And his brother fell to one side and the grains of sand promptly became visible through the wide gaping hole in his head, whilst the perimeter of flesh flapped soundlessly in the warm African winds and the terrified soldier shook uncontrollably as a patch of urine oozed out across his pants, as his brother’s blood oozed out across his.
‘Bien.’
Then with a smile and a tap of his finger, the Commandant pulled the trigger, blasting a bullet into the remaining brother’s head.
The Commandant looked at his hands then crouched down, using the dead soldier’s hair to wipe them clean from the splattering of blood. Turning. Addressing the terror-frozen group of soldiers who watched, fixed with fear, the Commandant said, ‘Now, Amira, you choose. Who are you going to pick next?’
THE LIBYAN COAST
38
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Eighteen minutes later, Cooper had walked through the hot, dark and echoing walkways of the ship. The place was empty. Devoid of anything including smells and dirt. It was certainly the cleanest ship he’d ever been on. Like a sanitized, high-tech version of the Mary Celeste. Everything seemed wrong. To his mind the reinforced store rooms were too small to resemble a suitable space for shipping crates. And hell, who even had reinforced store rooms?
To the side of him, he saw a small object. He bent down, picking it up, before a sudden bout of dizziness suddenly engulfed him. Blocked his thoughts. Stopped him right in his tracks.
His stomach ached. His mouth was dry. And a cold ripple of sweat swathed his body.
He leant his arm against the wall. Steadied himself. Breathing. Exhaling. Deep and long puffs out. Then letting himself glide down the wall gently, he dropped his head between his legs, feeling his body rock back and forth, sensing the sea’s waves adding to his discomfort as tighter cramps began to set in.
Remembering he’d passed a bathroom not too far back, Cooper decided to see if he could manage to cajole himself to get up and move, and make his way back there.
With excessive force, Cooper, almost falling into the metal bathroom door, pushed against it with his body, causing it to bang violently open, bouncing off the wall several times before it waned into a slow rhythmic swing.
His legs felt weak and he found himself having to prop himself up against the large steel storage cupboard by the lidless silver john.
Fumbling in his pocket and with shaking hands, Cooper hurriedly pulled out the bag of pills. Took out two. Greedily guzzled them down.
Maybe it was because he’d been sick on the boat and he’d retched the pills back up, but they weren’t working. Not helping. Not strong enough to fight off this feeling which attacked his body and his mind with overwhelming intensity, because whatever it was that Ismet had given him they certainly weren’t his usual poison.
Running the cold water faucet, Cooper put his head under the flowing water. Left it there. Letting the water rush over his face, down his nose and gush in and over his mouth.
Dripping hair glued to his head as he pulled himself up, supporting his weight against the stainless steel sink. His stomach tightened. Again. Cramping. Again. Lurching contractions forcing his stomach to expel what little content was in there through his mouth, through his nose.
Exhausted. Resting his forehead against the mirror above the sink, he spoke out loud.
‘Come on, Cooper, we’ve been here before. Come on…’
Breathing hard. Heavily. Trying to calm the shaking, the cold, the sweat, the increased heart rate which battered inside his chest, he pulled back to standing from the stooped position he found himself in. Continued to stare with disgust at himself in the mirror.
Behind him he saw the double doors of the storage cupboard fly open.
A body fell out. Fell forward. Tumbling hard onto the ground and for one split second Cooper wasn’t sure if this was real or if he
was hallucinating.
‘Jesus Christ! Oh, Jesus!’
Spinning round, he knelt down, frantically turning over the tiny body. It was a child. No more than ten. His eyes half open. And his fragile frame swamped in a bright yellow T-shirt and ragged shorts.
Instantly, Cooper felt for a pulse. Something. Faintly. Well he thought so anyway. Hoped so. But he couldn’t be sure as his hands were shaking from the pills. He pushed his head against the boy’s chest. Listening. Yes, he could hear something. Just.
‘Shit. Come on!’ As he lost balance for the second time, he cursed out loud at his pathetic, fumbling attempts at trying to scoop the boy up from the floor. He bent over, resting his hands on his knees. ‘Come on!’
A deep breath.
A fast exhale.
Baring teeth and digging deep, driving himself on with a loud incoherent yell. Forcing himself to be able to do what was needed.
As he scooped up the boy, he caught a glimpse of the inside of the cupboard. Where the back wall of it should’ve been, in its place a second door, leading down into blackness.
‘Quick! Help! Help!
Cooper stumbled out into the ship’s walkway, banging into the walls, taking heavy gasps of air as his heart raced away and his head span. Halfway along, he slid down the wall, his legs giving up once more.
‘Come on! Rosedale! Maddie! Help!’
He heard his roar echoing and rumbling along the empty corridor as he pushed himself back up the smooth metal pillar. His cold sweat dripped over the boy’s face, and as Cooper continued to carry him, the child’s head lolled to the side and his eyes showed only the whites as his pupils rolled back into his head.
‘No! Don’t, don’t… He’s dying! Rosedale! He’s dying!’
At the stairs leading up to the deck, Cooper attempted to drag himself up.
‘What the hell?’
He heard the sweet sound of Rosedale’s voice. ‘Rosedale, here! I’m here.’
The door flung open and the sunlight shone in.
‘Jesus, Thomas.’
Rosedale sprinted down the stairs, taking the boy with ease from Cooper’s arms.
‘He was in a cupboard.’
‘What?’
‘I’ll explain later. Where’s Maddie? I got to check to see if anyone else is in there.’
‘Tom! Rosedale! Listen, I…’
At the top of the stairs, Maddie appeared, cutting short what she was about to say. She rushed down towards the men, her eyes fixed on the boy as she listened to Cooper talk.
‘I found him, Maddie, and I’m going to see if there are any others down there but I need you to lower the ladder if it’s there, but if not, or if it’s easier, just harness him to you and take him down to the boat.’
‘That’s what I was going to tell you, Tom. He’s gone! The boat’s gone!’
‘Oh Jesus. Okay, look, Rosedale you’ll have to take him up on deck and try some CPR, whatever it takes, just keep him alive…’
As Rosedale rushed up the stairs with the boy, Cooper turned to Maddie.
‘We need to get some help, Mads. Go to the pilothouse and radio in and…’
He trailed off. A memory hijacking his present. A recollection like he was there. Living, seeing it and smelling it. The day of the accident. He’d radioed in on the day of the accident.
‘Tom…! Tom!’
He could see it now. Ellie. They were in the water. Desperate for help. The boats. The pirates coming towards them.
‘Tom!’
He could hear the helicopters. He could hear her calling his name as the masked pirates approached, firing their weapons. He could see the three skiffs bouncing off the surface of the waves. And he could feel the cold water.
‘Tom! What the hell’s wrong with you? Tom!’
He could see Jackson floating face down. Sea of red blood. He couldn’t see Ellie. Where was Ellie…
‘Tom! For God’s sake!’
Cooper wiped away the trickling sweat on his face, using the moment to reorient himself. ‘What, Maddie? What’s the matter?’
Maddie stared at him. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Nothing… Sorry. Nothing. Look, I’m going to go and search for anyone else.’
And without looking back, Cooper staggered back towards the bathroom, leaving Maddie to radio for help.
39
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‘No, no, no. This isn’t happening,’ Maddie muttered to herself as she desperately tried to figure out any of the controls in the pilot room. It was like nothing she’d seen before. Even if her life depended on naming any of the equipment on the Navigation Bridge she probably couldn’t. The irony of her thoughts hit her painfully hard. It may not be her life which depended on it, but it was certainly the boy’s. And the way it was looking… She stopped her thoughts from heading down that road. Concentrated on what she was doing.
The vessel monitoring system. The dynamic positioning control station. The echo sounder. In fact, the whole of the integrated bridge system. So usually familiar and recognizable on any ship. Any ship but this one. And right now she didn’t know what the hell she was going to do.
Metal security screens covered the computer equipment and were inaccessible behind a large sliding steel grille, locked with finger print technology. The usual dials and buttons and controls weren’t even there. Only a multitude of glass panels with no discernible controls. Essentially, though, the one thing which was truly vital was for her to work out how to use the radio… If she could only find it.
Running out of the pilot house and down the stairs to where Rosedale was still performing CPR, Maddie listened to the words she didn’t want to hear.
‘We’re losing him…’
‘Rosedale, where’s the small bag we keep the cell phones and iPad in?’
Coming up from giving mouth to mouth, Rosedale shook his head at the same time as placing both his hands, one on top of the other over the middle of the boy’s chest. Counting. Pressing down hard enough to make the child’s chest move inward before relaxing to let it rebound back out. Immediately he began the process again but quickly said, ‘It’s on the fishing boat. Unless Thomas has it.’
For a moment Maddie didn’t say anything. Couldn’t. And wished she could ignore the panic rising inside her. The first rule the three of them had was: whatever else happens, whatever else they leave, whatever they did no matter how long or short – never leave the bag.
‘Rosedale, I’m going to find Tom. I think we’re in trouble…’
*
Heading for the stairs, Cooper emerged before Maddie got there. He was panting. Pale. Sweating. Waxy pallor wiping away his handsome looks.
‘There’s nobody else down there, Maddie. Not that I can see. Is help coming?’
Quickly pushing to the back of her mind how ill Cooper looked, and not trusting how her voice might sound, Maddie slowly said, ‘Tom, where’s the bag? The bag with the cell phones in?’
‘Haven’t you or Rosedale got it? How’s the boy?’
‘He’s not good, and no we haven’t got it, you were in charge of it. Damn it. It must be on the boat… I can’t unlock any of the navigation equipment, it’s impossible to work out and I can’t even find the radio.’
Not as fast as usual, Cooper ran to the pilot house, consciously not looking at Rosedale and the boy.
He stopped in the doorway. Glancing around with total dismay at the set up.
‘Oh my God.’
Coming up behind him, Maddie asked, ‘What are we going to do, Tom?’
Cooper said nothing.
A moment later he turned and ran.
40
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A hard yet calculated tap with the butt of Cooper’s gun to each corner, cracked but didn’t shatter the mirror. Not wanting to waste any more time, Cooper, knowing it was his only option, hooked his fingers underneath the edge of glass. Pulling it carefully. Desperate for it not to break.
‘Damn…Damn it.’ The mirror was too firm
ly stuck down to lever any of it off.
Using his gun again, Cooper quickly tapped along one side of it to produce a jagged edge in the hope of making it easier to ease it off the backboard. With an unwavering determination, he placed his fingers on the broken edge. Then pulled.
The pain shot into his fingers as the glass pushed and embedded into them, ripping through flesh and tissue. Brutally shredding. Violently cutting.
And the blood streamed down. Painting his hands red. Covering his arms as it trickled down. And the torture he experienced, making his eyes roll back as he managed to extract the large piece of mirror he needed.
Dropping to the floor with a cry, he curled into a ball as he tucked his hands underneath his armpits to try to alleviate some of the bleeding. Some of the agony.
With the piece of mirrored glass under his arm and with the pain trying to hold him back, Cooper staggered along the corridor.
Up the stairs.
Onto the deck.
‘Maddie… Maddie, take over from Rosedale…Rosedale, I need you over here.’
Maddie turned to look at Cooper. And just for a second she froze.
‘Tom!’ Snapping herself out of her momentary trance, she ran towards him, unable to process quite what she was seeing.
Cooper’s face was smeared with blood and his clothes looked like they’d been freshly dip-dyed. Streaks and large clots of jelled blood dried and coagulated on his arms whilst the flesh on the tips of his fingers hung down shredded as a stream of blood ran from them.
Before she could say anything else, Cooper hollered., ‘Maddie, just do it. Take over from Rosedale.’
She nodded and answered in a voice stripped of conviction. ‘Okay. Okay.’
Leaving Maddie in charge of the CPR, Rosedale ran over to Cooper and, only allowing the tiniest flicker of emotion to show on his face when he saw the state Cooper was in, he asked, ‘What’s your plan, Thomas?’
‘I need you to help me up onto the roof of the pilothouse.’
Rosedale nodded, racing up the stairs with Cooper following closely behind.
Immediately, Rosedale clasped his hands together, creating a step for Cooper to climb on.