Thorpe's Candle

LEAP OF FAITH

It was just after 7:00 PM when Skyler felt the forward motion of the Tiger Shark slow and finally cease. Soon, the ever-present hum of the steam turbine engines driven by the nuclear power plant went silent. He sat in the small captain’s dining room waiting to be summoned to his fate as he listened to crew members moving about in the hallway beyond. The harrowing experience of dodging two Mark 48’s had left him and the rest of the crew shaken. He also felt that Schafer, although lacking experience as a boomer commander, showed quick thinking and courage in getting through the ordeal. And Skyler got the impression that the captain’s loyalty to Escandoza would last only as long as the money flowed. Could he convince Schafer that it was imperative to stop the drug lord and avoid a possible mass killing? Would he even get the chance?

Key’s jingled in the lock and the door opened. Two sailors stood outside — one motioned for Skyler to rise and follow. Both were armed with assault rifles. As he got to the door, he realized that Captain Schafer was there as well. Like the captain, the crew all wore naval-style uniforms. But there were no markings that identified what navy or the allegiance to any particular country. Still, it was smart on Schafer’s part, Skyler thought, to make his pirates wear uniforms — it brought them together as a team, however ragtag it might be.

“Should we restrain him, Captain?” one of the sailors asked.

Schafer chuckled. “Where’s he going to go?” Then he motioned to Skyler. “This way. And try not to hijack my boat. We’re docked.”

Skyler followed the captain along the corridor with the sailors in tow. Soon they arrived at the base of a ladder leading to an open hatch. Skyler saw a star-filled sky — the last hues of twilight fading. The captain started climbing. He paused long enough to motion that Skyler follow. Seconds later, they stood on the deck of the Tiger Shark. It was then that Skyler realized how big a vessel it was. Most obvious to where he stood were the twelve hatch covers protecting the SS-N-17 Snipe SLBM’s. For a moment he felt as if he stood on a powder keg with the fuse about to be lit.

“Welcome to Isla de Sangre.”

“Blood Island,” Skyler said. “How appropriate.”

“Don’t be so pessimistic, Mr. Skyler. If you remain docile and non-threatening, you may actually survive this ordeal. And to be honest, because I like you, I hope you do.”

“You’re much too kind.”

Schafer motioned to the submarine. “Impressive, isn’t she?”

“I’ll grant you that, Captain. For a boat built in the seventies, she’s aged well. We should both be so lucky.”

As they walked along the deck, Skyler took in his surroundings. The Tiger Shark had pulled alongside a heavy-planked wooden loading dock that stretched at least 200 meters from shore. He assumed it must have served as an industrial wharf sometime in the past. This would also account for the water depth allowing the sub to maneuver alongside. Based on his experience, he guessed the sub’s draft to be around eight meters. Other ships, probably small freighters or fishing trawlers must have docked here, and needed that much clearance. This was consistent with the Cold Bay fishery docking arrangement. Forward hatches on the sub were already being opened in preparation for offloading the containers of korium.

The wharf led to a rocky shore, probably lava, Skyler thought. Beyond lay a number of buildings that could have been former seafood processing plants. He assumed they had been converted into the lab set up by Escandoza to refine the korium and build the Candles. A float plane sat tied up on the opposite side of the wharf. To the right of the dock and sub was a lagoon that Skyler estimated to be about one hundred meters wide. Barely visible in the gathering darkness was a strip of white beach leading to a thick grove of palms and a dark jungle beyond. Against the disappearing twilight he saw the outline of mountains.

It’s now or never, Skyler thought. This was his only chance. He took two broad steps, sprung off the side of the sub and dove into the lagoon. Staying underwater, he swam as far as he could, hoping there were no coral reefs to tear his skin, and that his Naval Academy training would prove true in his stamina to hold his breath.

One of the sailors stepped up beside Schafer and aimed his assault rifle. “Should I stop him, Captain?”

Schafer waved him off. “We’ll find him. It’s a small island.”