He hooked an arm around the stricken man, raised him to his feet, and muscled him up the steps. Pitt glanced around for additional survivors, but the bay was empty. He struggled up the steps with his load, a journey made harder by the ship’s list. They reached a hatch door, which Pitt kicked open as a generator below them sizzled to a halt from the rising waters.
Giordino stood near the rail and rushed over to help. “This baby’s about to go under. The Macedonia is ordering us to evacuate right away.”
They were briefly blinded by a powerful searchlight from the NUMA ship that swept over the angled deck. Pitt glanced aft. Waves were washing over the stern rail. Metallic creaks and groans filled the air, along with sporadic crashes from shifting cargo. The freighter had only seconds left afloat.
Pitt and Giordino dragged the crewman across to the accommodations ladder. The freighter’s steep list had raised the stairway to a nearly horizontal angle. Giordino descended first, supporting the engineer over his shoulder as Pitt lowered the injured man by the collar. Alongside them, the freighter shuddered as it fought to stay afloat.
“We’ve got a problem,” Giordino said.
Pitt stared at the Zodiac. Partially submerged, the inflatable was standing on end in the water. As the ship settled, the lower section of the accommodations ladder had dropped underwater. The attached bow line had pulled the Zodiac down with it, leaving it bobbing upright like a cork in the water.
The freighter lurched again, its bow shooting skyward as its stern began sliding into the sea. They could simply wait a few seconds and step off into the water, but they would face the risk of being pulled under by the suction from the sinking ship. Even if they managed to swim free, there was a good chance the semiconscious engineer would drown.
“Take him and grab hold of the Zodiac,” Pitt yelled. Then he stepped off the ladder and dove into the sea.
Pitt struck the surface alongside the upright mass of the Zodiac, the cold water prickling his skin. As he kicked downward, he felt along the inflatable’s fiberglass hull. The Zodiac suddenly jerked away from him as the freighter began its final plunge. Pitt kicked hard to keep up, pulling himself along the inflatable’s surface wherever he could find a grip. In the dark water, he reached out and felt its pointed prow. Grabbing hold, he pulled himself forward while groping with his other hand for the bow line.
The rope was tightly secured in the Zodiac’s interior, so his only chance for a quick release was to free it from the ship’s ladder. He pulled himself hand over hand against the rush of water, a flurry of bubbles obscuring the minimal visibility. The growing water pressure squeezed his ears and lungs as he willed himself down the line. His outstretched hand finally banged against the platform and he grasped the cleat that held the line. The rope was pulled taut by the pressure, but he found the end and began working it loose. With a hard tug, the line broke free.
The accommodations ladder smacked his side as the Zodiac began to shoot toward the surface. Pitt nearly lost his breath but clung tightly to the line. With the freighter continuing to slide past him, he had no sense of ascending until his ears popped. A second later, he was flung above the waves by the momentum of the surfacing inflatable. He regained his bearings and swam to the side of the Zodiac. A waterlogged Al Giordino reached over the side and helped hoist him aboard. He grinned at Pitt. “I’m glad you didn’t wait to hit bottom before releasing the line.”
Pitt forced an exhausted smile. “I wanted to give you your money’s worth. How’s our friend?”
“If you understand Russian, he can tell you himself. He swallowed a bit of seawater during our thrill ride but actually seems better for it after a bit of retching.”
The crewman sat on the floor of the Zodiac, clinging to a bench seat. Though his skin was pale, his eyes appeared steady, and he breathed easily. He glanced up at Pitt and nodded.
Around them, a collection of flotsam coated the water. A motor sounded nearby and a second Zodiac from the Macedonia raced over and towed the battered inflatable back to the research ship. The freighter’s crewman was rushed to sick bay while Pitt and Giordino climbed to the bridge.
Captain Stenseth greeted them with mugs of hot coffee. “You boys cut your exit a little close there.”
Giordino savored the warm brew. “It being a nice night for a midnight swim, we opted for a
dip.”
“Only one survivor?”
“Afraid so,” Pitt said. “The other crewmen showed no signs of injury. Looks to be a possible chemical or gas leak.”
“Something to do with that blast?”
“I’m not sure,” Pitt said. “It occurred well aft of the cargo holds.”
“She didn’t look old enough to be a candidate for an insurance policy scuttling,” Giordino said. “That leaves an accident or an aborted hijacking.”
They were interrupted by a call from an approaching Turkish Coast Guard helicopter.
Stenseth turned to Chavez. “Tell them the Crimean Star has gone down and that we’re at the site of the sinking. We’ll welcome their assistance in searching for survivors.”
The thumping drone of the search and rescue chopper sounded a moment later. Pitt and Giordino stepped to the bridge wing as it surveyed the freighter’s small field of floating debris. Its bright searchlight narrowed on a pair of drifting bodies.
Giordino shook his head. “All of her crew gone but one.”
Staring at the roiling sea, Pitt nodded. “A death ship that took her secrets with her. At least for now.”
3
“Do you want the last banitsa?”