by Rob Sangster
Molly came next, moving like a gymnast, sure-footed and fearless.
Gano lay in the doorway and lined down the four RPGs in their carrying cases. He started down, not as gracefully as Molly but moving with confidence. He was near the bottom when the ship surged up. Before it could slam into him, he pulled himself up three rungs and jumped. He hit hard but rolled to his feet with a smile.
“Can’t say I blame that pilot for being pissed,” Gano said. “I was afraid he might start home while I was still hanging out.”
The helo lifted and headed east for Portland.
We’re all in now.
Heinz waved and hurried toward them from the wheelhouse. As he got close, he called, “Four of you?”
“Yeah,” Gano snapped, “we didn’t need the other twenty, so we left them on the helo.”
Heinz looked startled, and his eyes shifted toward the departing helo. Then he realized Gano was jerking his chain.
“Everything’s ready for you,” he said. “By the way, mind if I ask what’s in those cases? Machine guns or anything like that?”
“No questions,” Drake said roughly.
“Didn’t mean no harm,” Heinz said, but his camaraderie slipped away. “Let’s get up to the bridge out of this damn salt spray.”
They climbed steep stairs to the wheelhouse on the top level of the structure at the stern. It ran the width of the ship and had a flying bridge, or outside deck, on each side. As they reached the bridge, Jack dropped back and whispered quick instructions to Gano. Gano nodded.
Most of the equipment on the bridge looked hard-worn, some of it wrapped in canvas hoods, maybe broken beyond repair. Palinouros was an over-the-hill workhorse who would make repeated milk runs until one day a load would break loose, split her hull open, and she’d sink to the bottom to rest.
“Go below,” Heinz said to the crewman at the helm. “I’ll take the watch.”
“What’s the drill?” Jack said. “What happens after Palinouros comes alongside the platform?”
“They open the biggest door on their cargo deck and extend the conveyor belt in sections until it reaches our Number One cargo hold. It’s jointed so the swells don’t affect it too much. Then a crane lowers the Frog. After we’ve finished using it, the crane lifts it to the main deck. Sometime after that, they start transferring the ore to us.”
“Understood,” Jack said. He caught Gano’s eye but didn’t change expression. “Have three of the replacement workers on hand. We’ll all go up on the Frog together.”
Heinz looked puzzled. “Sure, okay.”
With Heinz concentrating on navigating, they spent the next three-quarters of an hour mostly in silence. Jack badly wanted a cup of coffee, but the big pot secured to a plastic table with duct tape looked disgusting.
As minutes passed, strain showed in the downturned mouths and tense lips of his team. Looking at Molly, he saw a woman fiercely determined to protect her home and her friends. Drake was committed to advancing scientific knowledge in a way that would change societies, but Barbas stood in his way. Gano was there out of friendship and for the sake of the chase. All three were uncommonly brave, yet all of them were trying not to think about what was coming up. His job was to make them think he was calm and confident when the truth was very different. None of them wanted to die, but it felt close to being a no-hope mission. Gano, with his keen aviator’s eyes, was first to spot Chaos.
“We’ll be alongside pretty quick,” Heinz said. “I have foul weather gear for you, so you’ll look like the rest of us.” He opened a locker full of red trousers with suspenders and red jackets with hoods. They found sets that fit and pulled on the pants, leaving the jackets until they were ready to go.
Palinouros approached the “safety zone” that started five hundred yards away from Chaos. Heinz called the platform and received permission to approach.
“With wind and waves pushing Palinouros around,” Molly asked, “how can you maintain a stable position next to the platform?”
Heinz pointed to a console in the center of the bridge. “That computer measures wind, waves, and tide, and uses that information to control our propellers and thrusters. It’s called dynamic positioning. That kind of system also keeps the platform in a stable position above mining operations on the seafloor.”
When he’d arrived at Chaos by helicopter from Astoria, Jack had gotten a good look at how immense it was in a horizontal sense. Now he was impressed by its height as it loomed above Palinouros.
Heinz brought the ore carrier alongside Chaos in slow motion. “This is the part I get paid for. A serious scrape can rip a hole in my hull. If I collide with even one of the main supports, the platform might tilt, might even collapse.”
A few minutes later, the ship and platform were in a stable relationship. Palinouros’s red-jacketed deck hands scurried around getting their end of the conveyor belt into place. When that was done, they disappeared back inside the structure to get out of the sloppy weather.
Looking up the vertical wall of Chaos, Jack saw the orange Frog dangling from the arm of a crane. Drake and Molly were also staring up at the Frog. Gano wandered to the far side of the bridge and looked out the window.
“Send the three replacement workers out on deck for pickup by the Frog. We’ll join them in a minute.”
Heinz gave the order.
When the replacement workers were gathered in the Frog pickup station, Jack said, “Tell the platform to send the Frog down.”
Heinz did so.
“Thanks for your help, Heinz. We wouldn’t be here without you. The men on the platform are expecting these replacement workers, right?”
“I told them they’d be coming up. No problem.”
“I wouldn’t say ‘no problem,’ because I have bad news for you.”
“Bad news?” Maybe it was the tone in Jack’s voice, maybe the look in his eyes, but Heinz had apparently heard enough. He whipped a .45 Remington out of a drawer in front of him and aimed it at Jack. “You’re a fool.” He spat toward a waste can and missed. “You’re going down and getting on the Frog. And don’t take them carrying cases with you. Get going!”
Without making a sound, Gano had moved in behind Heinz and delivered a solid whack to the back of his skull with the butt of the Glock. The Remington banged hard on the table, clattered on the deck, and skidded to a stop at Jack’s feet.
Jack grabbed it and said, “Since I’m not a fool, I told Gano to watch you every second. I figured you’d betray us to Barbas for a much bigger payoff. He’d agree to pay you, say, $100,000, because he’d make sure you didn’t live to collect it. After I called you from Challenger, you contacted Barbas and told him Gano and I were on the way. You planned to stuff us into the Frog and deliver us like pigeons in a cage.” He watched Heinz’s face sag as he realized how much trouble he was in. “That’s right, I played along, because Palinouros was the only way I could get this close to Barbas without being wiped out by his helicopters. I also wanted Barbas to expect us to arrive without the weapons and extra men you had promised me. I tested you to find out if I was right. You failed.”
Heinz pulled himself to his feet, cursing. He took his hand away from the back of his head and wiped blood off on his pants. He looked around at their hostile faces. “You got it all wrong,” he said in a whiny voice. “Barbas doesn’t suspect a thing. You just go on up there and do . . . whatever you plan to do. I was just doing this for Molly, honest to God. You can trust me.”
“I didn’t believe you the first time you said I could trust you,” Jack answered. “Don’t believe you now. So we’re not going up on the Frog.”
“Hey, your choice. I got no skin in that game.”
“You’re about to. When Barbas finds out we’re not on the Frog, he’ll send his men down here after us—and you. Your skin will be in the game, all righ
t.”
Color drained out of Heinz’s face. His eyes widened and bulged.
“You can’t do that to me,” he wailed.
“Heinz, you are fifty-seven varieties of bad shit,” Gano said. “You knew exactly what was going to happen to us when that cage rose above the railing. I’ll bet you expected a bonus for Drake and Molly. That really pisses me off.”
“Look at that,” Molly called, pointing out the bridge window away from the platform.
Even before he saw it, the hoarse whoosh, whoosh, whoosh told Jack it was one of the Ka-52 gunships. It was returning out of the northeast, the direction of Challenger.
“Its missile pods are empty,” Gano said softly.
After a long silence, Jack said, “Steve, I’m sorry.”
Damnation. Barbas had given that pilot orders to destroy Challenger, and the pilot wouldn’t dare come back without carrying out that command. Jack’s heart ached as he thought of Lou and the rest of the crew dead, their ship on the bottom. His motivation to get to Barbas doubled.
Jack knew Drake would blame himself for the death of his crew, and that guilt would inflame his hatred of Barbas. Jack wouldn’t say it out loud, but he was grateful he hadn’t blocked Molly from getting off Challenger. He thought again how thankful he was that Debra was a thousand miles away.
He saw in Heinz’s eyes that he’d known all along that Barbas had sent the helicopter on a murderous mission. Drake saw that too and with a full swing of his right leg kicked Heinz squarely in the nuts. Heinz’s scream was cut short when he caromed off the bulkhead and onto the cold steel deck.
Chapter 39
July 30
6:30 p.m.
Chaos platform
JACK WATCHED THE Frog dropping toward Palinouros’s deck. The three replacement workers stood with necks craned upward, ready for transfer, blissfully ignorant about what was really going on around them.
“Get your foul weather jackets on,” Jack said. “When the Frog lifts above us, we’ll head for the conveyor belt.”
“We have to carry this snake onto the Frog,” Drake said, nodding at Heinz. “I want him cut to pieces when they get up there.”
“He stays here,” Jack said. “Gano, stuff that rag in Heinz’s mouth. Tie his arms behind his back and tie him to something out of sight.”
In a few minutes, the loaded Frog passed Palinouros’s bridge on the way up. Jack was relieved at how slowly it rose. That would keep the Chaos crew concentrating on its arrival.
“Time to move. We go up the conveyor belt in the same order we got off the helo. Gano, cover our rear.” Jack slung an RPG case over his shoulder and checked to be sure that the others did the same. “Let’s go.”
Three years in the U.S. Navy had taught him how to slide down a steep ladder at top speed with his hands on the side rails and feet not touching the rungs. At the bottom of the third ladder, he sprinted to the conveyor belt with the others trying to catch up.
The steep angle of the belt changed as the ore carrier rose and fell. Horizontal ribs provided slippery footholds, but he worried whether Drake could make it with his injured leg. He started up, but the awkwardness of the RPG on his back slowed him. He quickly learned to surge forward every time the ship rose and the angle of the conveyor decreased. The high sides of the conveyor belt provided good cover from anyone on the main deck who might happen to look its way from above. He kept glancing up, afraid the belt would suddenly start up and tons of ore would cascade down on top of him.
At the top of the belt, he peered cautiously into the cavernous cargo bay searching for workers or guards. All he saw were bulldozers, skip loaders, and dozens of twenty-foot tall hoppers presumably filled with crushed minerals ready for transport to the mainland.
He swung off the conveyor onto the deck and pulled out the Walther PPK in case he’d overlooked someone. Nothing moved, but common sense told him that the crew who supervised offloading would show up any minute.
Drake stepped up beside him, gritting his teeth against pain, but he nodded to show he was good to go. Molly and Gano were close behind.
“Good plan.” Gano smiled. “I never thought we’d get back on this platform without some serious bang-bang.”
“I haven’t heard any gunfire from the main deck,” Jack said, “so Barbas didn’t have the men on the Frog shot while they were trapped in the cage. As soon as he finds out we aren’t there, he’ll scream for Heinz.”
“When he gets no answer,” Drake said, “he’ll think we’re still on Palinouros. One of those lizards there will tell him about us dropping in from a helo. When Barbas orders a search and can’t find us, he’ll guess we used the conveyor belt to get onto the platform. We have fifteen minutes, max, before his people are swarming all over this place with orders to shoot.”
“Get out of this foul weather gear,” Jack said quietly. “We need to create a big-time diversion to help at least some of us get to Command Central. When I was here before, I saw a building with a sign on its side that read Chemical Storage. Gano, use an RPG round to set it on fire. That will draw the attention of firefighters and some of Barbas’s guards, and maybe freak people out.” He used his left forefinger to draw a map on the palm of his hand showing the location of the building. “Steve, cover his back.”
“Got it,” they both said.
“After the fire starts, Molly and I will head for Command Central on the 02 level. Meet us there. Remember, we need the workers on our side, so don’t shoot anyone if you can help it.”
HE AND MOLLY climbed the stairs into a small compartment in the bottom level of the superstructure. Jack eased open a door to peer out onto the main deck. To his left, the Frog rested empty. Workers walked among buildings doing their jobs with no sign they thought anything unusual was going on. If Barbas had concluded they were on the platform, he was keeping that secret for now.
Jack looked at Gano and Drake. “Go for it.”
Gano winked as he passed. Seemingly paying no attention to the workers, he strolled across the deck, hands in his pockets. Drake followed about ten yards behind. They both walked out of Jack’s line-of-sight. After too many seconds, they re-appeared in a narrow space between two sheds where Gano had a clear view of the Chemical Storage building forty yards away. He unsheathed the RPG launcher and knelt on a knee. Drake kept watch, but no one seemed aware of them. Gano squinted through the sight and dropped the grenade down the tube.
A clang rang across the deck when the RPG shell penetrated the metal skin of the building. Nothing happened. Then a red-yellow fireball was followed by a blast of searing heat that knocked him backward. Nothing had exploded, but some combination of flammable chemicals was creating one hell of a diversion.
He and Molly started up an open-rung flight of stairs for the 02 level. When they got there, it was crowded with workers streaming out of their workstations, panicked by bedlam on the main deck. Rather than take a chance on being recognized as strangers, Jack pulled Molly up the ladder to the 03 level. The passageway was empty at the top.
Through a window, he saw flame shooting up from the Chemical Storage building. This had turned into far more than he’d planned as a diversion. He looked back down to the 02 level. Everyone had fled. It was deserted.
“We have to get to Command Central,” he said. “I hope Barbas’s thugs got sucked away by the fireworks, but we can’t wait for Gano and Drake.”
Molly pulled the Black Widow out of her pocket, tested the feel of the grip, and slid the safety off.
With the Walther PPK in hand, Jack, with Molly right behind him, started back down to the 02 level. A few steps from the bottom, he heard a command from above.
“Halt. Drop guns.” The accent was distinctly Russian.
Jack looked up at a man standing at the top of the stairs, feet spread, gun in his right hand pointed straight at them. If
Molly tried to turn and fire, or Jack tried to fire around her, the man could get off several lethal shots.
Jack tensed, about to whirl and shoot. No choice.
Suddenly, a figure blindsided the gunman from his left with a flying body block. The gunman cursed as he crashed backward into the bulkhead. His assailant fell to the floor and scrambled to his feet to attack again.
The Russian rolled and raised his gun toward the man coming at him. Point blank range.
Crack. Crack. Molly’s Black Widow spat twice. The Russian’s knees buckled. He fell backward and landed on his butt. His head hit the steel deck like the tip of a bullwhip.
Molly climbed the steps two at a time and looked down at the Russian, whose blood was already seeping across the steel deck. Only then did she look at the man standing several feet away who had come flying out of nowhere.
“Oh my God! Randy.” She stuck her gun away and gave him an enthusiastic hug. She looked him up and down as if not sure he was real.
“Molly, what are you doing here? What the hell is going on? I heard shouting but had to shut down my electronics before I could leave my office space. When I came through the door I saw that guy”—he gestured at the Russian—“looking like he was about to shoot, so I, well, thank God I did.”
Molly turned to Jack. “Randy is the man I told you about, my boyfriend.”
Jack remembered that she’d actually referred to Randy as “the man who wants to be my boyfriend.” He didn’t blame her for a little editing under the circumstances.
She quickly told Randy about the cause of the tsunami and why they had come. She ended with, “You have to trust me. Barbas will try to kill us. Will you help us?”
He was a round-eyed, open-faced man who looked willing to jump into an inferno for Molly. “Hell, yeah, what do you want me—”
“Are most of the townies who work here loyal to Barbas?” Jack asked.