Marauder (Oregon Files 15)

He didn’t really care. This was a one-time job. And according to the post-death recording Lu left for him, Rathman had something in common with the billionaire’s stepdaughter, having also been chucked from a seafaring career.

Rathman had been an able seaman, but he was notorious for being a brutal taskmaster, driving crews to their breaking points. The final straw that cost Rathman his certification was when he was ratted out to the authorities for locking his crew in the freezer as punishment whenever one of them failed to complete a task as ordered.

He hadn’t commanded a ship since then until Lu came calling. Apparently, Lu liked Rathman’s reputation. He said it was exactly what he’d been looking for.

Now as he sailed along the Great Barrier Reef on Christmas morning, Rathman felt at home in his captain’s chair, despite knowing his time as a shipmaster wouldn’t last past this voyage. Although the bridge pitched up and down as rain lashed the windows, there was nothing better than being master of a ship, whatever the size. With the money he’d make on this sailing, he was going to buy his own charter boat, maybe run fishing trips off the Gold Coast for rich businessmen and their model girlfriends.

Then the bridge officer said something that shook him out of his bikini-filled reverie.

“Captain, we’ve got a problem with crane two.”

Rathman groaned. “What is it?”

“It seems the boom wasn’t locked down securely.” The man pointed at the crane a hundred yards from the bridge, and Rathman could see the horizontal boom clanging against the adjacent crane arm with every wave crest. If it wasn’t locked in place properly, the storm could rip it from the tower, causing untold damage to the ship and its cargo as well as delaying their arrival.

“There’s a safe harbor fifteen miles west where we could shelter to make sure it’s secure,” the officer said.

Rathman exploded out of his seat. “We are not changing course. Get a man out there right now and up into that cab to reposition the boom and lock it down.”

“Aye, Captain.”

The officer made the call, and a minute later a crewman went out on deck, holding on to the railing with a death grip as he pulled himself through the fierce wind and rain. Rathman noticed that the idiot wasn’t even wearing a life jacket, but he wasn’t going to bring him back now and cause a further delay. With each wave, the boom banged even harder against its neighbor. If the cables snapped, the whole thing could come tumbling down.

The deckhand finally made it to the crane tower and climbed the stairs inside. Rathman couldn’t see when he reached the cab, but it was obvious that he’d made it when the crane swung around and nestled against the one beside it.

Rathman breathed a sigh of relief that his payday was now as secure as the crane.

The crewman exited the tower and started pulling himself along the deck back to the safety of the stern superstructure.

As Rathman settled back into his chair, he looked back out to sea and gasped when he saw a wall of water the height of a six-story building barreling toward them from dead ahead.

He activated the shipwide intercom. “Rogue wave approaching. Secure all stations.”

Rathman had heard about the phenomenon of a rogue wave, but he had never experienced one in person. On rare occasions in a storm like this one, normal-sized waves intersecting at just the right moment could combine into one giant superwave. Many mariners thought they were myths until they became well documented by North Sea oil rigs.

Now one was about to hit his ship. He braced himself for the impact. The bow of the Centaurus rose into the air, carried aloft by the slope of the wave. Before it could reach the peak, the crest of the wave broke over the ship, sending a massive surge of water across the deck.

The crewman who’d been struggling to make it back inside disappeared for a moment. As the water subsided, the crewman’s yellow rain jacket was visible as he hung from the railing, his feet dangling over the open water. For a moment, it looked like he could climb back over, but his grip gave, and he fell into the ocean.

“Man overboard,” the bridge officer called out automatically. He looked to the captain for orders, but Rathman remained silent as he thought about what would happen next.

Stopping to turn around and search for the man might take hours or days in this weather. And calling it in to the Coast Guard would mean that he’d have to assist in the rescue attempt and answer uncomfortable questions. Either of those options would make their chances of arriving in Sydney on time non-existent.

The officer seemed to understand his thinking. “If we throw a life buoy into the water for him to find, he might be rescued by a passing ship. If we don’t, it’s likely he’ll never be found. Nobody would know what happened here.”

The rest of the bridge crew watched him expectantly, but none of them looked particularly concerned about their fellow crewman. They knew their substantial pay was dependent on completing the voyage on time.

The captain nodded. “Stay the course. I’ll alter the manifest to take his name out.” First, of course, he’d have to find out what the man’s name was.

Rathman felt justified in his decision. After all, it wasn’t his fault, and no careless fool was going to deny him what he was owed. He put the lost crewman out of his mind and thought ahead to sailing into Sydney on New Year’s Eve when he’d toast his new life while watching the famed fireworks show from the middle of the harbor.

THIRTY-SEVEN

THE TIMOR SEA

The Oregon stayed in the vicinity of the Shepparton until Juan was sure that the crew had recovered and the ship could continue on its way to Jakarta safely. The problem was that they had no idea where the Alloy Bauxite cargo ship was now. Vesseltracker and the other marine traffic databases had no record of a ship leaving Nhulunbuy on that date. It was clear her name had been changed, so they couldn’t possibly track her.

Out of leads for the moment, there didn’t seem to be much to celebrate, but Juan made sure the chef put together a huge midday turkey dinner for the entire crew. At least for a few hours, they distracted themselves with good food, wine, and gift exchanges. Everyone especially loved Murph’s new skateboard from Eric, ignoring the grim possibility that he might never use it and instead focusing on the hope it brought everyone.