Havana Storm (Dirk Pitt 23)

“

I don’t think the ship’s captain is too happy that we were brought aboard. I caught something about breaching security on the project. I think they’re going to move us.”

Summer’s words proved prophetic. A half hour later, the pair were marched back up to the main deck. An aged tugboat was tied alongside the mining ship, astern of a wooden barge stacked high with ore from the seabed. Pitt and his daughter were led aboard the tug and into a cramped cabin, where a guard kept watch with the door open.

“Did you see the Sargasso Sea when we boarded?” Summer asked.

“No. We must be turned away from her. I’m sure they’ll be looking for us by now.”

“But they won’t know where to track us,” she replied in a down voice.

They heard the tug’s motor rumble to life. A few minutes later, the stubby boat got under way, shoving the barge ahead of it through the rocky seas. Into the night they sailed, leaving the NUMA ship, and freedom, in their wake.

40

The large workboat cut its engines and slowed to a drift under a cloudy night sky. A few faint lights tickled the horizon far to the south, but the ocean around them was empty. The boat’s skipper checked the radar system to ensure there were no unseen vessels about. Satisfied they were alone, he picked up a handheld radio.

“Bridge. We’re at the drop zone. You’re clear to deploy.”

Standing on the open stern deck, James Maguire replied instantly. “Roger. Proceeding to deploy.”

The mercenary turned to a tall, muscular man smoking a cigarette at the side rail. “Okay, Gomez. We’re clear to drop.”

The two stepped to a large covered object strapped to the deck. They released the ties and pulled back a tarp to reveal a dilapidated coastal fishing boat powered by a small, rusty outboard motor. Or at least that’s how it looked.

The boat was actually constructed with a Kevlar composite that made it virtually indestructible. The exterior had been molded and painted to resemble bleached wood suffering from rot.

“Are we fully gassed up?” Maguire asked.

Gomez checked a pair of concealed fuel tanks near the bow and nodded. The tanks fed two 150-horsepower horizontal motors concealed beneath the bench seats that powered twin jet impellers mounted on the hull.

Maguire opened a set of false floorboards and performed a quick inventory check with a flashlight. One compartment contained a mini arsenal of pistols, assault rifles, and an RPG launcher, plus ammunition. Another contained an assortment of dive gear. Maguire loaded a third compartment with a heavy plastic bin he brought from his cabin.

Sealing up the floorboards, he called to Gomez. “Let’s get her wet.”

Gomez stepped to a small crane and hoisted the boat by its lift straps over the side and into the water.

Maguire eyed its name, Surprise, lightly painted in yellow on the stern, before climbing aboard. He released the lift straps and handed them to Gomez, who stowed them aboard the ship, then joined Maguire in the boat.

Maguire started up the inboard motors and radioed the workboat’s bridge. “Surprise is away. We’ll see you in forty-eight hours.”

“Roger that,” the skipper replied. “We’ll be waiting right here, catching some rays.”

Maguire laid on the throttle and the faux fishing boat shot away into the night. The mercenary aimed the bow toward the distant lights of Grand Cayman Island, bounding over the choppy black sea on a mission of death.

41

The Sargasso Sea’s Zodiac approached at a whisper, only the slap of the waves against its hull signaling its presence. Giordino was thankful for finding an electric motor aboard the research vessel, one used by the ship’s scientists when examining ecologically sensitive areas. He was less enamored with the fact that he was piloting a bright orange inflatable across a moonlit sea. The ship’s maintenance crew had hurriedly slapped a coat of black paint on the inflatable in the name of stealth, but much of it had fallen victim to the salt spray.

Giordino guided the Zodiac toward the mining ship, which was now holding position a mile east of the Sargasso Sea. The vessel was illuminated from stem to stern with bright floodlights that revealed an impressive, modern-built ship with multiple hydraulic A-frames, pumps, and conveyors designed for subsea mining. Beyond the mining ship, Giordino saw the lights of a second vessel receding to the south.

He approached the ship from the stern to avoid observant eyes on the bridge while searching for a means to gain access. His luck held when he spotted a ladder that had been lowered off the starboard flank. As the Zodiac drew closer, he read the ship’s name on the transom, Sea Raker.

Dirk sat on the bow, dressed in black and holding a coil of rope. Figuring their chance of detection was less with a quick strike, Giordino held the throttle down and gunned for the ladder. The inflatable bounced against the side of the ship. Dirk leaped to the ladder, tied off the inflatable, and scrambled up the steps. Clearing the ship’s rail, he ducked behind a crane and waited for Giordino.

Giordino tumbled to Dirk’s side a minute later. “How we looking?”

“Not good. We just missed a pair of guards on patrol that are headed up the port rail. They were uniformed and carrying assault rifles.”