The Rising Sea (NUMA Files 15)

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CLAD IN black neoprene, Kurt and Joe took their positions on a twelve-foot wing at the back end of the powerboat. They stood side by side, each of them with one foot forward and the second foot back, behind and canted sideways, a stance that provided balance and control.

Backpacks strapped to their shoulders held the compact oxygen bottles, masks and fins that they would use to swim off the island once they found Superintendent Nagano and any clue suggesting what Han was up to.

With their feet set, they grabbed a pair of guide cables that would allow them to maneuver the wingboard and the parasail that would rise up above them. A short video told them how to control the wing.

“This doesn’t seem too hard,” Joe said. “Lean left, it turns left; lean right and it turns right.”

“How far in do you want me to take you?” Akiko asked.

Kurt had already done the calculations. “Get us within two miles and then give us a little waggle. We’ll pull the cord.”

Her eyebrows went up. “Two miles? That’s a long way out.”

“According to the information I read online, this contraption has a glide ratio of twelve-to-one. With the cable fully extended, we’ll be almost fifteen hundred feet above you. High enough to cover three and a half miles. But considering the headwind and our inexperience guiding this thing, I want a safety margin to play with. Two miles will do just fine.”

Akiko nodded, glanced at the GPS receiver and then looked back over her shoulder at the two of them. “Ready?”

Joe reached up and double-checked a pair of goggles currently perched on his head. His were designed for night vision. While Kurt’s looked for heat, Joe’s amplified the available light. As they closed in on the island, Joe would pull the goggles down in front of his eyes and look for a landing spot.

With the goggles strapped securely to his head, Joe gave the thumbs-up and set both hands on the guide line.

Kurt did

the same. “Release the cable.”

Keeping one hand on the wheel, Akiko reached over and pulled on a lever to her right.

Clamps released and the parasail billowed out behind Kurt and Joe, filling with air. The lines snapped taut and pulled them back as the wing beneath their feet disconnected from its moorings.

In an instant they were airborne and rising fast, as the cable spooled out from a drum in the back of the boat.

They climbed with surprising speed as the two wings provided ample lift. By the time the cable was maxed out, Kurt could see all of Nagasaki lit up, but all he could see of the boat was the shimmer of the wake it was leaving behind.

Working together, he and Joe practiced a few maneuvers. The wingboard responded easily, working in perfect tandem with the parasail above. The ride through the cool night air was smooth as glass.

“Easy peasy,” Joe shouted over the wind. “The trick is going to be controlling it once the cable is cut. The wings are staggered like an old biplane. As long as we keep the parasail filled, we’ll have control. But if our forward speed drops too much and the sail collapses, we’re in trouble.”

Kurt looked up at the graceful curve of the parasail stretched above them like a crescent moon. “If that happens, we pull the emergency release and dump the wing; we’ll lose some distance but we can parachute down. Did you pick a landing site?”

“I studied the satellite image,” Joe said. “There are forty buildings on that island with a flat roof. Plenty of landing spots. Which one we pick all depends on the angle of our approach. I’ll make a final choice when we get closer.”

“You lead, I’ll follow,” Kurt said.

Kurt nodded and reached for the radio strapped to his arm. “Turn toward the island. Keep an eye on the GPS and give us a little shake when we hit two miles. We’ll pull the cord and glide the rest of the way in. Once you feel us go, haul in the cable and make your way back to the channel between the island and Nagasaki.”

“Will do,” Akiko said, her voice reaching Kurt through the earbud. “Good luck.”

The lights below went dark and the wake began marking a curve to the left. A few seconds elapsed before the cable began to haul them around in matching fashion. Leaning to the left in tandem, Kurt and Joe easily maneuvered their flying machine into the turn. As they straightened up, the island appeared. It was nothing more than a dark spot against the shimmer of the sea.

On a direct heading toward it, they began to pick up speed. A few minutes later, the boat began to weave back and forth.

“That’s our signal,” Kurt said. “Here goes nothing.”

He reached forward and grabbed a red handle designed to release the cable in an emergency. One pull brought it back to a safety detent. A second pull finished the job.