Running Dark

40

EMMA HANDED THE ASSAULT RIFLE TO STARK. HE TOOK IT FROM her without comment.

“It’s on semi. I can’t shoot, and neither can you—”

Stark looked about to protest. Emma put up a hand to silence him.

“—despite your years of skeet shooting. I’d recommend that you keep it on semi most of the time. Its recoil is hard to control when it’s on autofire.” She grabbed the RPG and lifted the cushioned seat on the boat’s side. She attached a rocket to the weapon’s muzzle before turning to Hassim.

“Get us as close to the lead craft as you can. They’ll try to take out the captain and anyone piloting the boat first. When the Kaiser Franz slows, the others will begin bombarding it.”

Stark gave Emma an impressed look. “Where’d you learn that?”

“It’s only logical. If you want to stop a car, you can either kill the driver or disable the car. Or both. Even with RPGs they may not be able to disable a vessel that large, so going for the bridge makes the most sense. Plus, without a captain the crew and passengers will be less likely to put up a fight.”

Hassim turned the boat to follow the lead pirates. “You should work for Banner. You’re a natural,” he said.

Emma wasn’t sure if Hassim meant it as a compliment or not, so she remained quiet.

“Our real problem,” Hassim continued, “is getting them to regroup. We need all three on one side so we can drive around the other side and have you climb up the back.”

They surged toward the Kaiser Franz. By now the Somalis were within firing range of the ship. Emma, Hassim, and Stark, though, were not. Emma watched with a helpless feeling as the lead attacker fired his own rocket launcher. Flames shot out of the back as the missile climbed toward the cruise liner.

“They’re too far!” Hassim yelled over the sound of their own boat’s engines. “That was a waste of a grenade.” Sure enough, Emma was pleased to see the grenade self-destruct a full twenty feet in front of the ship.

The popping sound of gunfire was followed by a yell. She watched a pirate in the lead boat fly back. He landed on the boat’s floor, out of her range of vision.

“That was a nice shot,” Hassim said.

Emma looked at the men on the topmost deck. Sumner was no longer standing but was a dark mass on the edge, by the guardrail. He was on his stomach aiming a gun.

“I know that man. He’s an expert marksman,” Emma said.

Hassim looked thoughtful. “Is he the one that you’re coming here to help?”

She nodded.

Hassim pointed his chin at the messenger bag at her feet. “Take the bag with you. There are some grenades in there you can light and throw if you need to. Roducci sent them. He insisted you have them.”

Emma aimed the RPG without comment. “Tell me when we’re within range,” she said. She didn’t want to make the same mistake the pirates had and fire too soon.

Hassim eyed the screen before him. “I’ll tell you in detail. Stark?” Hassim didn’t turn his head.

Stark stepped up.

“Your weapon has a firing range of a hundred fifty to two hundred fifty meters. The RPG can get about three hundred. More, in the hands of an expert. Let Caldridge shoot first, then cover her by targeting anyone who looks like he’s even thinking of retaliating.”

Stark moved up behind Emma.

“Don’t stand there,” she said.

He started. “Oh, right. Back blast. Don’t fire that thing without warning me,” he said.

They came within four hundred feet of the lead pirates. By now Emma could make out the people on the Kaiser Franz, as well as a large gash on the vessel’s side. The ship was huge compared to the tiny boats surrounding it. It churned through the water but seemed unable to maintain a steady pace. At one moment it appeared to surge forward before slowing and then surging again. It was like a barely functioning car lurching in its last throes.

The pirates shot another grenade. This one aimed true, headed right to the deck where Sumner waited. Emma held her breath. A cracking sound echoed in the air. The pirate holding the RPG went down. A second gunshot was followed by the grenade exploding in midair.

“Get ready to fire,” Hassim said.

Emma aimed at the lead pirates.

“Now,” Hassim said.

She fired. The rocket catapulted out of the tube just as the boat hit a wave. She stumbled backward. She kept going in that direction to allow Stark to step forward. He aimed, held the position for a second, then fired. Emma saw the gun buck on recoil.

Her grenade exploded five feet from the back of the pirate boat. Shrapnel rained down on the inhabitants. They were close enough now that she could hear their yells as the bits of exploded ordnance pelted them. She couldn’t tell if Stark’s shot was wide or not, but he followed it up with another that did hit its mark. A pirate at the boat’s rear dropped like a stone. She saw a muzzle flash from Sumner’s gun as he fired another shot and the pilot fell, hitting the side of the small craft and tumbling overboard. There were three men left in the boat. The two other pirate ships appeared from behind the cruise liner and roared toward the front.

“Here come the troops. Excellent. When they bunch up together, we’ll veer off to the back,” Hassim said.

The attackers formed into a roughly triangular pattern, joining the lead ship in firing at the Kaiser Franz’s bridge. Several flashes of muzzle fire from Sumner told Emma that he had turned his attention to the new attackers. One pirate in the second boat raised a rifle in their direction.

“Time to go,” Hassim said. “Hold on.”

He put the craft in a tight right-hand turn. Emma stumbled to the side with the curve.

“Good hits, both of you,” Hassim said. “Stark, take the RPG.” He looked at Emma. “You should get ready to board.” She reloaded the RPG and handed it to Stark.

“Watch my back blast,” he said. She scrambled to the other side. Stark aimed and fired. Flames leaped out the back of the tube an impressive distance of at least ten feet. Emma grabbed the messenger bag, slung it over her left shoulder, put her teardrop backpack on the other shoulder, and hauled the large duffel to the boat’s edge.

“I’m ready,” she said.

The Kaiser Franz loomed closer. They were in its shadow, skirting the ship’s side, heading to the rear of the enormous vessel. As they did, Emma looked up at the portholes for the lower-level staterooms. One framed the anxious face of a man. He caught Emma’s eye, and his widened as they looked at each other. They kept moving, and the man disappeared from view.

“Let me get off another shot before you turn behind,” Stark said. Hassim nodded and manipulated the throttle, powering down the boat. Stark aimed the AK-47 off the back. He fired off ten shots in quick succession. A cry went up.

“Got one at least.” Stark’s voice held a grim note of satisfaction. “They’re not following us right now. The guy with the gun on the cruise ship is keeping them busy.”

“I’m cutting around the back,” Hassim said. He made another hard right, curving behind the liner and angling across its wake. They bounced into the air with the force of the waves.

Emma stared at the wake in dismay. Black oil poured from a hole in the ship’s hull. It flowed out behind in a long stream. She didn’t know where it originated from, but it didn’t bode well.

Stark tapped her on the shoulder. “Are you sure you want to do this? That ship is going to stall soon. When it does, those pirates will be crawling all over it.”

Emma wasn’t sure. Now that she was there, she understood the extreme danger in which Sumner had once again found himself. The pirates alone were trouble enough, but once they got hold of the ricin, they would be armed far above the crude explosives that they currently carried. Whatever happened, they could not be allowed to obtain it.

“I’m going,” she said.

Stark ran an angry hand through his hair. Before he could say anything, Hassim spoke up.

“I’ll get as close to that aft ladder as I can, but it’s still going to require that you leap. I suggest you leave the duffel for last. Once you’re on the ladder, I can try to hand it to you.”

“If we miss?”

“We can’t. It will drop like a stone. The mission will be over. Finished.”

“So not an option,” Emma said.

“No.”

“How about I lose these two other bags and just jump with the duffel?” Emma said.

“The duffel’s too heavy. It will hinder you. If it does, then you will drop like a stone. I’d rather you get on the ladder. If we can’t get the duffel to you this time, we’ll swing around and give it another try.”

“Well, at least let me take the ricin testing kits.” Emma zipped open the duffel and grabbed three of the boxes labeled BIOHAZARD DETECTION KIT. She shoved them into the messenger bag.

They moved closer to the ship. The sounds of exploding grenades intermingled with the whooshing of the waves that buffeted the little boat. Hassim slid the craft up to the ladder hanging off the Kaiser Franz’s side. He yanked the steering wheel to the left when a wave threatened to slam them against the larger vessel. The spray from the wake blew in the air, misting Emma. She grasped the handrail and prepared to move over the edge. The rail was cold and slick with a combination of water and oil. She scissored one leg, then the other over it and hung from the side, facing forward, her feet on the very edge of the deck where it met the hull. The weight of the two packs seemed to steady her, but the boat was slippery underfoot, and she couldn’t imagine what would happen once the ungainly duffel was added. It was sure to unbalance her.

“Next try!” Hassim yelled to her. He stayed parallel for a moment before angling closer.

Emma kept her concentration on the approaching ladder. She bounced with every wave that hit them. At four feet away, when the ladder was opposite her, she leaped.

Her oil-slicked hands slipped on the rails. She managed to grab one with her right hand but missed with her left. Pain shot through the fingers of her right hand. The knuckles felt as if they were being pulled apart from the weight of her body as she hung there. Her grip was loosening with each swell of the wave. She swung back and forth, trying to grab anything to lessen the pain in her fingers. She managed to get a grip on the ladder’s side rail. Once she did, it was easier to maneuver her feet onto the rungs. She turned to Hassim, who stayed with her but once again parallel and at a safe distance.

“Throw me the pack!” she said. Hassim looked at her, the ladder, then lifted the pack. Before he could throw it, Stark put a hand on his shoulder. Emma watched him lean closer to Hassim while the two men talked. They reached some agreement.

“Get ready. I’m coming with the pack,” Stark said.

Emma was speechless. That he would go from calling her crazy for boarding the vessel to joining her in the madness was remarkable. Before she could respond, the Somalis came around the back of the cruise ship, hurtling straight for them.

“Go!” Stark yelled.

Emma needed no further encouragement. She started up the ladder as fast as she could. Behind her she heard Hassim’s engine noise increase as he opened the throttle. The boat shot away, leaving her alone to scale the side. She looked up. The climb seemed to last forever. She moved as efficiently as she could, given the motion of the boat, the slipperiness of the ladder, and the weight on her back. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the pirates approaching.

When she was ten feet from the top, she heard the cracking sound of gunfire from above. The pirates behind her yelled. She was three feet from her goal now, and moving with a speed that would have impressed her had she the time to admire it. She was at the top when she heard the sound of an RPG being fired.

A hand reached over the side, grabbed a fistful of her shirt in the back, along with the strap of one of the packs, and she felt herself being physically hauled over the metal railing. She gave whoever was pulling her onto the deck some help by pushing off her toes, vaulting over the side in a heap of limbs, still flying forward, unable to stop her trajectory. She catapulted headlong into the man’s body, the weight of hers throwing him backward onto the deck. She landed on top of him. He grunted in her ear as the fall took the breath out of him. He grabbed her around her torso, rolled her, reversing their positions, until her back was on the hard wooden planks and he was on top of her with his head against her cheek. She looked up and saw a strange steel wall looming over them, with a porthole in it. She stared at it, fascinated, wanting to close her eyes to avoid seeing the grenade strike them but finding it impossible not to watch.

The grenade hit the wall from behind and angled from right to left. It exploded on impact. Emma felt her eardrums shiver with the sound, popping as if she were on a plane at thirty thousand feet. With the cacophony came a blast of heat and wind. The wall twisted with the force of the warhead. It curved to the side and bent in half. The entire contraption flipped into the air, and Emma caught a glance of flying shrapnel as the wall cartwheeled to their right. Bits of metal flew in every direction. She closed her eyes when it rained on them, before opening them again. The object hammered back onto the deck and rolled in a crazy, lopsided fashion, flinging off parts as it did. It came to rest twenty feet away and stopped. One thin bar swung from a metallic thread that kept it attached to the debris.

The man on top of Emma raised his head, and she got her first full look at him. Sumner loomed over her, his face a mixture of anger and disbelief.