Those in Peril (Unlocked) (59 page)

‘Come on, Uthmann.’ Tariq twisted his arm viciously. ‘Not much further to go.’ Uthmann fell to his knees, and now his terror had taken control of him completely. He was blubbering and gibbering barely coherently.

‘No, Tariq! Shoot me here. Get it over with. There is something I want to tell you. I threw your brat into the flames first. Then I fucked your wife. I thought of you with every thrust I gave her. When I had finished I threw her on top of her bastard. Her long hair burned like a torch. Now you must shoot me. If you don’t it will be a memory that will follow you all your days.’ His voice rose in a despairing wail. Hector grabbed his other arm and the two of them dragged him on his belly, wailing and squealing down the dune and into the sea. When the water was knee-deep Hector rolled him face-down and lifted his ankles together behind him. Tariq straddled his shoulder and with his full weight forced his face below the surface. Uthmann was trying to hold his breath below the surface and at the same time give full voice to his terror. His movements grew wilder and less coordinated and then began to grow weaker. His mouth opened under the surface and a gust of silver bubbles broke past his lips. He was coughing and gasping and vomiting, the sounds muffled by the water over his head. When it seemed it was almost over, Hector dragged him out by his heels and laid him face-down on the wet sand. Tariq bounced on his back. Seawater and vomit gushed up out of his throat and he managed to draw a few short breaths before his whole body convulsed in another paroxysm of coughing. He vomited again and half of the yellow bile was sucked back into his lungs with his next breath. Slowly, very slowly, Uthmann managed to clear his lungs of water and vomit, but he was too exhausted to sit up or speak. Hector and Tariq squatted on each side of him and watched him struggle for his life.

‘You heard him boast about what he did to Daliyah and my boy?’ Tariq whispered.

‘I heard.’

‘There must be something we can do to match such hideous evil. A simple drowning is far too merciful.’

‘There is something,’ said Hector, nodding. ‘There is an anchor rope in the longboat. Tie one end of it to that ringbolt in the transom and bring the other end here.’ It seemed that Tariq was about to ask a question but without voicing it he jumped up and ran to the longboat. He came back uncoiling the rope on the wet sand. Uthmann tried to sit up as Tariq stood over him, but Tariq kicked him over on his back and looked at Hector.

‘Tie his wrists together,’ Hector ordered, and Uthmann began to struggle and scream again. Tariq twisted his broken arm to subdue him while Hector slipped a loop of the rope over his wrists and tightened it until the hemp cut into his flesh.

‘Do you know what you are now, Uthmann Waddah?’ Hector asked quietly, and immediately answered his own question. ‘You are live bait.’

‘I don’t understand,’ Tariq admitted, and Hector went on to explain,

‘All those captured boats have been lying at anchor for months out there in the bay. The men living on board have been throwing all their rubbish and sewage overboard. That attracts sharks, plenty of big sharks, tiger sharks mostly, for they are the scavengers, but others also – bronze whalers, Zambezi sharks and blacktips.’ Tariq smiled and horror dawned in Uthmann’s dark eyes.

‘You are bleeding quite heavily, Uthmann.’ Hector kicked his wounded foot, and Uthmann moaned. ‘Did you know that sharks are attracted by blood? Let’s go fishing!’ They pushed the stranded longboat off the sand while Uthmann struggled weakly on the end of the anchor rope. Every time he managed to get up on his knees Tariq jerked his end of the rope and sent him sprawling again. As soon as the longboat was afloat Hector jumped on board and started the motor. He turned the bows away from the beach and opened the throttle gradually. Uthmann was pulled flat and dragged across the wet sand, screaming with pain and fear.

Tariq splashed out to the longboat and scrambled over the gunwale. He and Hector stared over the stern as Uthmann was hauled bodily into the low surf. The rope dragged him under the surface, but he came out in a flurry of water like a breaching whale, and then rolled under again. The pressure of seawater shot up his nose and down his throat. He managed to cough a little of it out of his mouth before he went under again, but now the rush of water into his right ear ruptured the eardrum. The agony must have been blinding, but he no longer had the breath to scream. The wake he left along the surface was tinted with blood and as the longboat entered the deepwater channel the first shark finned up in the blood slick. Hector saw the stripes across its broad back.

‘Uthmann, there is a tiger shark coming up behind you,’ he shouted. ‘Not a very big one – a little less than three metres long. But big enough to bite a nice chunk out of you.’

The shark did not rush in at once, but it followed Uthmann cautiously until another larger shark rose out of the green waters. The one goaded the other and together they charged in. The larger shark opened its jaws in a cavernous gape and then bit down into Uthmann’s shattered ankle. He screamed as he realized what was happening to him. The sharks dragged him under and Hector cut the outboard motor and drifted softly on the tide. He didn’t want Uthmann to drown before the sharks were finished with him. It didn’t take very long. Each time Uthmann came to the surface his struggles were weaker and his screams feebler. The water around him darkened with his blood. Tatters of his own flesh floated around him. Then he went under once more but he did not surface again. When Tariq hauled in the rope Uthmann’s two disembodied hands were still fastened in the end noose. He tossed them back over the side. He went to squat beside Hector as he turned the longboat sharply and roared back across the bay towards the
Golden Goose
. They were both silent for a while then Hector raised his voice above the din of the engine.

‘I could not ask before but tell me now, what was your son’s name?’

‘His name was Tabari.’

‘We did what we had to do. But it doesn’t help much, does it?’ Hector mused. ‘Vengeance is a tasteless dish.’ Tariq nodded and turned his face away. He did not want even Hector to see too deeply into his soul where the ghosts of Daliyah and Tabari would live on for ever.

A
s they raced back under the towering hull of the
Golden Goose
Hector stood in the stern of the longboat balancing with a twist of the anchor rope around his wrist. He was figuring out the run of events that had taken place while he and Tariq had been engaged in the chase of Uthmann. He saw that the formation of three AAVs under Sam Hunter was approaching the beach in front of the town. He felt a quick flare of anger. By now they should have reached the prison stockade beyond town and freed the prisoners. He barked into the microphone of his battle radio, his tone reflecting his anger.

‘Sam, what the bloody hell are you playing at? You are almost an hour behind schedule.’

‘One of the hoists sustained damage from heavy machine-gun fire from the beach. It took time to get it working again. Sorry, Hector.’

‘Okay, so now let’s get our fingers out of our butts.’ Hector broke the connection, and watched the AAVs. The water was breaking over their bows as they rode the shore chop. Small-arms fire from the shanties above the beach was thrashing the sea around them. However the hatches in the turrets were locked down, and the 50 calibre heavy machine guns were hosing tracer into the village. Shells from Dave Imbiss’s Bushmasters were joining in the bombardment, bursting in the air above the rickety buildings. Some of the corrugated-iron roofs collapsed under the weight of shot and the surviving pirates scrambled out of the wreckage and fled back towards the hills. The gale of shrapnel burst overhead and most of them were knocked down.

As Hector watched all three AAVs reached the beach together and rolled ashore with their steel tracks churning up the sand, and hurtling them up the slope and into the village. The winding streets were too narrow for the huge armoured machines and they drove straight through the flimsy shacks without a check, flattening them and then disappearing from view as they raced for the stockades in which the captured seamen were imprisoned.

When Hector and Tariq arrived at the
Goose
’s side in the longboat the hoists that had launched the AAVs were still hanging at water level. They abandoned the boat and jumped across to the hoist cradle. Hector called the hoist operator on the Falcon radio. He lifted them to the cargo deck where Paddy was waiting to meet them. He was looking agitated.

‘Fill me in with what has been happening, Paddy,’ Hector ordered him.

‘We have accounted for every one of Kamal’s pirates that he brought on board. Eight of them are dead, including the four you took down on the bridge.’ He paused and drew a sharp breath. ‘As you know Adam and Kamal are holed up in the pump service tunnel. They have taken Nastiya in there with them. Hazel is tracking their movements on the infrared sensors.’ Hector pressed the transmit button on his battle radio.

‘Hazel, where are they now?’

‘Hector, they are in the Number Two section, just beyond the main egress flow pipe intersection. They have not moved for the last twelve minutes.’ Hector frowned. The service tunnel was the most difficult section of the ship to work in. Confined and claustrophobic, most of the space was taken up with banks of steel piping as well as the huge gas pumps. The noise of the pumps was deafening, and there was little ventilation. Down there a defender would have a clear advantage over an attacker who was trying to rout him out. They were all looking at Hector for orders; even Paddy seemed devoid of any suggestions as to how they should proceed. Hector was trying to visualize the layout of the area.

‘Right!’ He made his decision at last. ‘There are only two entrances to the system and Paddy has got them both guarded, right?’ Paddy nodded. ‘Okay, so we’ll work the tunnel from both ends simultaneously in two teams and try to catch Kamal and Adam between them. There is nearly a mile of tunnel down there. It will be a hell of a job to drive them out, unless . . .’ Hector paused to think for a moment. ‘Unless . . .’ he repeated.

‘Unless what?’ Paddy demanded anxiously, but Hector did not answer directly.

‘Come with me, quickly. We must waste no time,’ Hector ordered, and two at a time he bounded up the stairs of the companionway that led up to the bridge. Paddy raced up behind him. Cyril Stamford was waiting for them on the bridge.

‘Top of the morning to you, Captain,’ Hector greeted him. ‘Have you got your ship fully under your command again?’

‘That I have.’ Cyril’s grin was lopsided. His face was still swollen and decorated with purple and green bruises where Kamal had used the rifle butt on him. ‘Engines are running and we are shortened up on one anchor chain, ready to sail at your word.’

‘A few chores to take care of first, Cyril. Please run Paddy and me through the firefighting procedures in the pump service tunnel.’

‘I had a strange premonition you were going to ask me that, when I heard that was where Kamal had bolted with his boss and the charming Russian lady,’ Cyril answered. ‘Come to the chart room.’

The chart room was at the back of the bridge. Hector knew that the plans of the
Golden Goose
’s hull were stored flat in the wide drawers below the chart table. However, as soon as he entered the cabin Hector saw that Cyril had already spread out the drawings of the lower deck on the table. Hector and Paddy pored over them, while Cyril explained the layout of the eight compartments that made up the pump service tunnel.

‘Each compartment can be sealed off with watertight and airtight doors, correct?’ Hector knew the answer, but he asked for Paddy’s benefit. ‘You can also close off the electrical circuit, and shut down any lighting and ventilation in the tunnel?’

‘Correct,’ Cyril confirmed.

‘And you can operate the doors from the bridge?’

In reply Cyril pointed through the open door. ‘That’s the control panel on the starboard bulkhead. Above the navigation console,’ he stated.

‘Can you also control the flow of CO
₂
gas from here?’

‘Affirmative!’ Cyril nodded again. ‘I can flood one compartment at a time, or all of them together.’

‘CO
₂
gas?’ Paddy demanded. ‘What the hell?’

‘Fire control. It will snuff out the flames,’ Hector answered brusquely, ‘but it’s also poisonous to humans.’ He turned back to Cyril. ‘Where do you keep the firefighting equipment?’

‘On level one. We have fireproof suits—’

‘We won’t need those.’ Hector cut him off. ‘What about oxygen sets?’