Poseidon's Arrow (Dirk Pitt 22)

“Like a contender for the national hopscotch championships.” Giordino hopped up on one foot and planted the crutch under his arm. His wounded leg was bandaged so thickly, it resembled a tree stump. Pitt helped him hobble to the gate, where the other captives were milling about, afraid to leave.

A commando came running past the smoldering millhouse and approached Pitt. “Alvarez sent me. Are these all the captives?”

“Yes, every man is accounted for.”

“Where did those explosions come from?”

“Planted here ahead of time. They really saved our bacon.”

“They sure did,” the man said. “Alvarez says to get everyone to the dock.” He turned and started jogging back the way he came. “We’ve got a lot of wounded to attend to.”

Pitt began herding the captives out of the compound when Giordino grabbed his arm and pointed to the sky.

“Someone leaving without us?”

Pitt looked up to see a wisp of black smoke rising from the dock area—the sooty exhaust from a large diesel engine.

“It’s the Adelaide,” Pitt said with resolve. Their fight wasn’t over yet.

70

AL, KEEP THE MEN MOVING,” PITT SHOUTED, already on the run. “Dirk, come with me.”

In the rush to free the captives, Alvarez had failed to send anyone aboard to secure the Adelaide. Hiding on the bridge, Gomez had fired up the ship’s engines at the beginning of the assault. After seeing Bolcke escape and the subsequent explosions in the jungle, he had no reason to linger.

Pitt and Dirk emerged from the jungle to find the Adelaide still at the dock. The stern mooring line had been released, and Pitt glimpsed Gomez yank the line onto the deck, then disappear into the ship’s superstructure. Ahead of the ship, a crewman on the dock moved to release the bowline.

Pitt and his son kept on running. The forward gangway was still in place, so they still had a chance to get aboard, if not hold its bowline. That possibility evaporated when the crewman slipped the line off its bollard, then gazed toward the mouth of the inlet. A small outboard motor could be heard over the drone of the Adelaide’s warming engines. As Pitt and Dirk hustled along the length of the big ship, they saw the source.

It was Summer, piloting boat 3. With her were four or five bedraggled men, lying in the bottom of the boat.

The crewman on the dock watched a moment, then kicked the bowline into the water. As the boat neared the dock, he calmly removed a holstered pistol and took aim at Summer.

A rapid peal of gunshots rang out as a half dozen bullets tore into the crewman’s back. At least two shots had come from Dirk’s SIG Sauer, the rest from Pitt’s assault rifle. The crewman spun and squeezed off a stray shot at his attackers, then collapsed dead.

A second later, a screech and a loud crash filled the air.

“She’s under way!” Dirk shouted.

Gomez had engaged the engines and was pulling away from the dock. The noise had come from the gangway, which skidded off the edge of the dock and slammed against the hull, dangling from its deck mountings.

Summer drove the inflatable alongside the dock as the ship pulled away. “A containership came in and rammed the Coletta,” she yelled to Pitt and Dirk. She had sped over in the inflatable and fished out the survivors as the containership sailed away. “I’m pretty sure they picked up Bolcke. It might have been the Salzburg.”

A flood of thoughts filled Pitt’s mind. If Summer was right, the Sea Arrow’s plans and motor would be aboard. And possibly Ann as well. The ship would have to be stopped before it could escape the canal.

He spoke quickly to his kids as he watched the moving Adelaide. “Dirk, run down to the end of the dock. Summer, keep the engine running, I’m coming aboard.”

He strapped the assault rifle over his back and dove off the dock. He hit the water a few feet from the inflatable but stroked toward the ship. He couldn’t match speed with the fleeing vessel, but he had a second target in mind: the ship’s bowline, dangling through its scupper and dragging through the water. He snagged the thick line, then slid along its length until he reached a heavy looped end. A smaller messenger line was attached to it, and he tossed that line to one of the men in the inflatable.

“Stay with the ship,” he yelled to Summer, grabbing the side of the inflatable as she wielded it around and chased after the vessel.

A weakened Madrid leaned over the side and helped Pitt aboard. Together, they reeled in the heavy bowline. Pitt had his daughter push ahead of the ship, dragging the line like an anchor. On shore, Dirk had sprinted to the end of the dock, where a final mooring bitt was mounted. As the inflatable struggled closer, Gomez guessed what they were attempting and turned the Adelaide as far across the inlet as he could.

Dirk could see the ship pulling away and urged Summer to hurry. Pitt’s and Madrid’s arms ached from pulling the heavy line as Summer buried the throttle and took a bead on her brother. Dirk got on his belly and leaned over the side of the dock as the inflatable pulled alongside and Summer cut the motor. Pitt heaved the loop at the end of the line up and Dirk grabbed it just as the line went taut. Muscling it with all his might, he rolled the loop to his side, barely slipping it over the end of the bitt.

“Get clear in case it snaps,” Pitt yelled.