Ghost Ship (NUMA Files 12)

That left only one answer. “Then it had to be piracy,” Paul said.

“Which would explain a great deal,” Gamay replied, “including our present location.”

Paul nodded. They were over three hundred miles northeast of the Waratah’s last reported position. Given that the current in Mozambique Channel flowed north to south and then around the Cape, she couldn’t have drifted to their current location unless her resting place had been even farther up the coast, even farther from where she should have been.

“To be honest,” Paul said, “I’ve been thinking it might have been piracy for a while. I can’t come up with any other reason for her to wind up this far from where she should have been.”

Gamay nodded. “But if you were a pirate and you’d just taken a large ship for a prize, the first thing you’d do is sail it in the opposite direction, out of the shipping lanes, away from where anyone would look.”

“Explains why the search and rescue vessels from the Royal Navy and the Blue Anchor Line never found her either,” Paul said. “They were looking in the wrong place.”

Elena chimed in with a summation. “So a group of pirates board the ship, take control of her, and turn her north, knowing it will be days before a search even begins. By that time the culprits can be hundreds of miles from the danger zone.”

“Must have been easy to disappear back then,” Gamay noted. “Radios weren’t in use on ships yet. And the airplane had only been invented six years prior, which meant they were few and far between and of relatively short range. Certainly not suited for long missions out to sea looking for missing ships.”

“It was a different time,” Paul said, “even compared to ten years later.”

Paul found himself intrigued by the mystery, which seemed to grow deeper and more complex by the moment. “So where did she end up?” he wondered aloud.

“Considering the current in this section of the world, it could be anywhere from here to Somalia,” Elena said.

“That’s true,” Gamay said. “But I’ve come up with an idea how we might narrow it down. Strangely enough, it begins with taking a closer look at those spiders.”

Paul raised an eyebrow. “You really are cured.”

“Only temporarily,” she said. “You still have to kill them for me at home.”

“I set them free out the back door,” Paul said.

Gamay shook her head. “Of course you do.”

“So what’s the plan?” he asked.

“Before we toss all the foliage, insects, and debris over the side, we should take samples of everything. The seeds, the bugs, the spiders. We should even have someone examine what’s left of our crocodilian friend before Elena turns him into a handbag.

“If we can determine what kind of plants and bugs we’re dealing with, we might be able to use that information to narrow down where the ship has been all these years.”

It sounded like a great idea to Paul. “You’re the expert and the gardener of the family,” he said.

“I’ll help,” Elena said. “Especially if it means I don’t have to go down below again.”

Paul laughed. “I’ll tell the crew to stop excavating until you two have collected your samples. I’m sure they’ll enjoy the break.”

Paul walked over to the deck crew and gave them the good news. He was getting ready to radio their findings to the Condor when the sound of a helicopter approaching became audible.

Paul looked west, expecting to see the Condor’s Jayhawk finally returning from Durban, but instead the sound came from the north, where two black dots were descending from a higher altitude and coming directly toward them. They were staggered, with the first one perhaps a mile in front of its partner.

Suspicious, Paul took out a pair of compact binoculars and focused on the nearest of the two craft. It was dark green in color, clearly military, and carrying ordnance in pods on either side.

Flashes caught Paul’s eye, like sunlight reflecting off the canopy, but it wasn’t the sun. Ribbons of water flew up on a track toward the bow of the ship. The heavy thunking sound of .50 caliber shells tearing through metal followed.

“Hit the deck,” Paul shouted, stepping away from the rail and diving behind the piles of dirt as if they were sandbags.

The other crewmen dove to the ground around him, and Paul caught sight of Gamay and Elena racing his way.

“What’s happening?” Gamay shouted.

The first helicopter thundered overhead, heading to the south and banking into a right-hand turn.