Ivory (55 page)

The single rocket shot from the pod and Jane glimpsed its sleek menacing shape for an instant before her view was clouded with smoke. Over the noise of the launch, though, she heard an agonised scream.

Fire and more smoke had burst from the rear of the pod as well, and the back blast had engulfed the man who'd been pushing against the wing. He spun and dropped to his knees, his face and hands blackened, his hair and fatigues on fire. Jane shut her eyes to the horror, but his piercing yells easily penetrated the armoured glass.

The rear of the Rooivalk dropped with a thud as Van Zyl, Penfold and the others moved away from the new threat.

 

‘Missile inbound, missile inbound!'

The
Talana
's klaxon sounded throughout the ship.

‘Hands to action stations. Launch countermeasures,' Fourie ordered.

‘Sir, missile's splashed into the sea, at five thousand yards by radar,' Kumalo said.

The captain picked up his binoculars and scanned the shimmering water. He saw the plume of spray. ‘There. It's dropped short.' The other officers of the bridge looked where Fourie was pointing.

‘Not much bang in it, whatever it was,' Kumalo said.

‘Damn it, that's not the point. Someone just fired at us!' The words had come out harsher than he'd intended, but Kumalo nodded anyway, suitably chastised.

‘We're closed up at action stations now, sir,' Kumalo said, steadying himself after the rebuke. ‘Still unable to make radio contact with the
Penfold Son
, sir.'

Petty Officer Irons's voice came through on the loudspeaker again.

The captain picked up the radio handset. ‘What have you got for me, Ironman?'

‘Sir, it looked like an air-to-ground rocket passing over us a short while ago. Detonated somewhere behind us, by the sound of it. Permission to close on the
Penfold Son
, sir, and investigate.'

‘Permission denied.' Someone was firing guns and rockets at his ship. He admired Irons's bravery and dedication, but a RHIB could be shredded by that kind of weaponry. ‘Return to the ship.'

‘Yes sir,' said an obviously reluctant Irons.

‘Guns, this is the captain. Fire two rounds from the number one gun, two hundred metres off the
Penfold Son
's bow. Let's show them we mean business, whoever they are.'

 

Alex had been fiddling with the radios inside the Rooivalk and had picked up the frequency on which the executive officer of the
Talana
was trying to reach the
Penfold Son
. Alex had keyed his radio ‘send' switch several times and tried to explain their situation. He wanted the
Talana
to send a boat to them at the double.

He looked outside the cockpit. Van Zyl and his men had retreated, scared off by the force of the rocket's back blast. He could make out only two of them now, both armed – one with a pistol and the other with the M4 Jane had dropped. Every now and then they fired a round into the Rooivalk to deter Jane and him from making a run for it. Though quite where they would run to, he had no idea. He wondered where Van Zyl had gone.

The ship itself was turning and from the radar display it appeared
they were heading towards the
Talana
. He looked up at the bridge. There was no one to be seen through the shattered windows. He wondered if one of Jane's earlier bursts of fire had killed the helmsman. The fact that there were no answering radio messages from the
Penfold Son
's deckhouse firmed his suspicions.

Even though he couldn't radio the frigate, if they could sit tight the
Talana
would be in visual range in a few minutes and would see the Rooivalk was on the deck and not lost at sea. That should prompt the captain to send a boarding party.

‘Alex!'

He looked up at Jane's call and saw eight figures striding towards them across the top of the shipping containers. They looked like they had come from the set of a science fiction movie. ‘Fireproof suits,' he said.

‘That means the rocket blasts won't stop them,' Jane said.

Alex looked at the radar screen again. The
Talana
was closing the gap, but was still beyond visual distance. They wouldn't see the Rooivalk hit the water, or even hear the gunfire as he and Jane were murdered. He couldn't be sure, but it seemed like the naval ship might even be slowing its course or standing off. Not surprising since it had come under attack, however ineffectual, from the small air-to-ground rockets.

‘Alex, we're moving again!'

The mercenaries and crewmen, clad in their firefighting gear, were putting their backs into pushing again. The Rooivalk was slightly skewed and its front left wheel went over first and the helicopter's fuselage grounded on to the metal top of a container with a sickening thud.

‘Alex! There's a speck on the horizon. I can see a ship.'

The tail of the helicopter started to rise as the men got underneath it and lifted.

The
Talana
was on her way, but she was still too far away for its captain and crew to see what was happening on board the
Penfold Son
. He needed to show them.

‘Jane, lock onto the ship with your sight and select the Mokopas.'

‘The whats?'

‘The antitank missiles.'

Jane moved her helmeted head and scanned the horizon to their left. He strained his eyes and made out the speck in the distance. He heard a high-pitched tone as a missile locked on.

The nose of the Rooivalk started to tip forwards, and Alex could see the waters below them. He gripped the cockpit walls on either side of him. Through the scarred armoured glass he heard two explosions in quick succession.

The helicopter thudded back onto the deck on its tail again as seawater thrown up from the two geysers washed over the men pushing them and coated the chopper.

‘The
Talana
's firing on us!' Jane said. She sounded happy about it.

‘Strap into your seat. Pull your harness as tight as you can.'

The men renewed their effort and the tail of the Rooivalk began to rise again.

Jane finished securing herself and grabbed the instrument panel in front of her with one hand, the other still on the gunner's joystick. ‘We're going over!'

The missile tone still buzzed in their ears. ‘Fire, Jane. Shoot all four missiles!'

Jane pulled the trigger.

The first Mokopa missile leapt from the bracket under the Rooivalk's port wing and, because the helicopter was facing downwards, as if in a dive, it splashed into the sea a short distance from the
Penfold Son
and exploded, sending up a huge bubble from far below the surface. While the men lifting the Rooivalk were spared most of the force of the back blast, the roar and noise of the big missile's launch caused them to falter and the tail fell once more.

The missile lock tone still buzzed in Jane's ears. ‘Fire, Jane. Shoot them all!'

The men on the containers were lifting again and didn't stop this time, even as the second and third missiles left their racks, engulfing the suited mercenaries and crewmen in smoke and fire.

‘Alex! They're not stopping. We're going over!'

The Rooivalk's fuselage scraped on the edge of the outermost container and they started sliding forwards. The right-hand wheel went over as the men slewed the tail around.

‘Hold on!' Alex yelled.

Jane fired the fourth antitank missile, but like the first, this one flew straight down, and the helicopter followed it into the sea.

 

The alarm sounded on the
Talana
's bridge. ‘Two missiles inbound!' said Kumalo.

‘Launch countermeasures!' Fourie ordered. ‘All guns, fire!'

Super Barricade launchers on either side of the ship sprayed out a storm of chaff away from the
Talana
. The small strips of metallic foil were designed to confuse and attract incoming missiles. Gunners manning the thirty-five and twenty millimetre cannons fired in the direction of the oncoming missiles, hoping a lucky shot might detonate one or more of the warheads.

One missile went wide, homing in on the chaff cloud and exploding in a fireball a hundred metres from the port side of the ship.

The second hit the hull at an oblique angle and penetrated, its armour-piercing warhead punching through the steel to enter the enclosed fo'castle.

Fourie grasped the sides of his padded chair and turned his face from the glass in front of him as the blast rocked the ship and a cloud of smoke obscured his vision.

‘Damage control party to the fo'castle,' Kumalo ordered over the ship's main broadcast system. ‘Damage control! Report.'

Smoke billowed from the vents on either side of the compartment that housed the anchor winch.

Fourie clenched his fists to control his anger. He was livid, but would not let his officers see his emotions. ‘Commence firing procedures for missiles one and two,' he said.

Kumalo looked at him, the intercom handset poised near his ear. The African's eyes were wide with astonishment. ‘The Exocets, sir?'

‘You heard me, XO. Don't just stand there staring at me.'

‘But sir, she's a merchant freighter . . . one of the largest afloat and . . .'

‘And she just fired two missiles at us.' Fourie repeated the order.

Kumalo licked his lips and gave the order. ‘I'll keep trying to contact them, sir. In the meantime, damage control reports no casualties, although the anchor winch is damaged. They're assessing now. The RHIBs are back on board, with all hands safe.'

‘Very well, XO. Maintain present course. I want to see what's going on with this ship. If she fires on us again, I'm going to shoot.'

 

Alex shook his head to clear his vision. His head had banged against the armoured glass of the cockpit when the helicopter hit the concrete-like surface of the water. His chest ached where the restraint straps had cut into flesh and muscle. He would be badly bruised, but he was alive. ‘Jane?'

‘I'm OK. What do we do?'

They were floating, but listing hard over on their right side. Alex looked down and saw water entering the cockpit. Within seconds it was swirling about his ankles. A bullet zinged through the metal of the fuselage. ‘They're trying to keep us inside, or shoot us as we get out. Open your cockpit a little.'

‘But won't that flood us?' Jane asked, looking back over her shoulder at him.

‘Yes, but if we go under with the cockpit locked the water pressure will stop us from opening the hatches. We'll flood ourselves. Take a deep breath as the water comes in, and get out before we touch the bottom. Swim as far as you can underwater towards the stern of the
Penfold Son
. If we can make the overhang we can hide underneath for a little while.'

She nodded. ‘Let's hope they don't start the engines again or we'll be caught in the propellers.'

He knew she was right, but they had no other choice. The ship had
come to a stop just as they were being tossed overboard. That meant someone was back on the bridge again. The electrical systems on board the Rooivalk were still working and Alex heard again the executive officer of the
Talana
, who had identified himself as Commander Kumalo, trying to raise the
Penfold Son
.

Alex opened his cockpit a fraction and a rush of water flooded over the side. Jane did the same.

‘Jane?'

She turned again and looked at him. ‘Yes?'

‘I didn't get a chance to say it to you before.'

‘What?'

‘I love you too.'

An explosion beside and beneath them silenced her reply and rocked the Rooivalk further onto its side, raising the cockpit out of the water a little and slowing the inflow of water. ‘Grenade!' Alex yelled. He looked up through the bullet-starred glass and saw Van Zyl pull the pin from another orb, hold it for a few seconds and then drop it over the side. The mercenary was counting off the fuse's timer, trying to judge it so the next grenade would detonate just as it reached the helicopter.

 

‘Second vessel approaching from the north-west, sir,' said an able-bodied seaman seated at a screen on the
Talana
's bridge. ‘It's small and fast – a motor cruiser. Speed twenty-eight knots, range seven miles, sir.'

‘Keep an eye on him,' Fourie said. ‘Ready the guns.' He wiped his brow.

They were in visual range of the
Penfold Son
now. ‘She's stopped, sir,' Kumalo said, holding binoculars to his eyes. ‘Explosion below the waterline, sir! Maybe she's launching something?'

The radio on the bridge squawked to life. ‘SAS
Talana
, SAS
Talana
, this is the master of the
Penfold Son
, Commodore George Penfold, over . . .' The voice had a distinct British accent.

‘Damn fool's promoted himself now.' Fourie stood and snatched the microphone from Kumalo's hand before he could reply. ‘This is the
Captain of the SAS
Talana
, go ahead, and what the hell do you think you're playing at?'

‘This is Penfold. My ship has been taken over by armed terrorists. They are carrying explosives and missiles on board. I suspect they are planning on attacking a port facility or another vessel, over.'

Fourie looked at Kumalo, who shrugged. ‘Patch in Tactical Headquarters.'

‘The hijackers killed the crew of your air force attack helicopter and tossed the aircraft overboard. Two of my crew and I escaped. I am broadcasting from a private motor cruiser that picked us up.'

Fourie checked the radar screen and saw the smaller boat approaching. ‘I see your vessel, Penfold. If you got away, though, why the hell did you come back?'

‘Saw you on the radar, Captain. Thought I'd better come back to warn you, in case the terrorists opened fire on you.'

‘Well, that they did. Pirates or terrorists? What about your earlier radio transmissions?'