Distant Thunder

57

The trawler had stopped, but it was a good four or five feet from the yacht. Engine-starting noises were coming from the craft.

Dino was pouring rounds into the wheelhouse and the deck, and when he ran out, he grabbed Stone’s rifle and began firing his rounds, too.

Stone heard the trawler’s engine restart, and the boat began to move forward.

“He’s having steering problems!” Dino shouted.

In desperation, Stone grabbed the shopping bag, opened the flap on the bomb, and pressed the button. “Ten, nine, eight, seven...” he counted. Then he stood up, grabbed the handles of the shopping bag, swung his arm, and tossed the bag, underhand, at the boat. There was too much smoke coming out of the engine bay to see where the bomb had landed, or even if it had hit the boat.

“Let’s get out of here!” Stone shouted, vaulting over the whaler’s rail and onto Breeze’s upper deck. “Four seconds left.”

Dino was gathering both rifles and the ammo bag and tossing them at Stone.

“Get out of there, Dino!” Stone shouted. “Two seconds!”

Dino landed near Stone, and they both ran across the upper deck and threw themselves, facedown, onto the teak, covering their heads as best they could.

Nothing happened.

“What the hell?” Stone yelled at Dino. “It didn’t go off!”

“How should I know?” Dino yelled back. “Vanessa and you armed the thing!”

“I pressed the button, and it was supposed to give us ten seconds.”

“Maybe you threw long, and it went overboard.” Dino pointed. “Look!”

Stone sat up and saw the trawler’s stern as it passed Breeze’s bow. “It’s still underway, and with no steerage!”

The two of them struggled to their feet and looked down the channel.

“I don’t understand,” Stone said.

Then he understood. The trawler exploded, apparently from the inside.

“Thar she blows!” Stone shouted.

“She do,” Dino agreed.

Then she blew again.

“Fuel tank,” Stone said.

“Diesel doesn’t explode like that,” Dino said. “They must have a gasoline engine.”

“And they’re welcome to it,” Stone said.

They heard a siren and turned to look aft. A Coast Guard rigid rubber dinghy of about thirty feet was backing out of the sub base and into the channel. A moment later, they were passing Breeze, headed toward the remains of the trawler, which were partly afloat but surrounded by debris and what looked like bodies, or parts of them.

“What the hell was that?” Viv yelled.

Stone turned and saw her coming up the stairs to the top deck, followed closely by Vanessa.

“That was Vanessa’s bomb going off on the trawler, followed by a gasoline explosion.”

Vanessa gave Stone a big kiss. “Did you throw the bomb at them?”

“Yes, and I think it went down the open engine hatch,” Stone said.

“I’m glad I gave you the extra time,” she said.

“What extra time?”

“I reset it to give you thirty seconds, just in case.”

“Ah, that would explain why Stone and I are still alive!” Dino crowed.

“Excuse me, people,” Stone said, “but I think we’re going to have a visit from the Coast Guard very soon. So we should put the yacht in order.”

“What order?” Viv asked.

“Well, you could start by getting those handguns below,” he said, “and well-hidden. Vanessa, that evil bag of yours needs to disappear, too, along with anything inside it or outside it that might be bomb-related. When they come aboard, please let me do all the talking, so we won’t contradict ourselves. Just make positive noises now and then.”

“Okay, pal,” Dino said. “You can screw this up all by yourself.”