Running Dark (19 page)

EMMA HANDED THE ASSAULT RIFLE TO STARK. HE TOOK IT FROM
her without comment.

“It’s on semi. I can’t shoot, and neither can you—”

Stark looked about to protest. Emma put up a hand to silence him.

“
—despite
your years of skeet shooting. I’d recommend that you keep it on semi most of the time. Its recoil is hard to control when it’s on autofire.” She grabbed the RPG and lifted the cushioned seat on the boat’s side. She attached a rocket to the weapon’s muzzle before turning to Hassim.

“Get us as close to the lead craft as you can. They’ll try to take out the captain and anyone piloting the boat first. When the
Kaiser Franz
slows, the others will begin bombarding it.”

Stark gave Emma an impressed look. “Where’d you learn that?”

“It’s only logical. If you want to stop a car, you can either kill the driver or disable the car. Or both. Even with RPGs they may not be able to disable a vessel that large, so going for the bridge makes the most sense. Plus, without a captain the crew and passengers will be less likely to put up a fight.”

Hassim turned the boat to follow the lead pirates. “You should work for Banner. You’re a natural,” he said.

Emma wasn’t sure if Hassim meant it as a compliment or not, so she remained quiet.

“Our real problem,” Hassim continued, “is getting them to regroup.
We need all three on one side so we can drive around the other side and have you climb up the back.”

They surged toward the
Kaiser Franz.
By now the Somalis were within firing range of the ship. Emma, Hassim, and Stark, though, were not. Emma watched with a helpless feeling as the lead attacker fired his own rocket launcher. Flames shot out of the back as the missile climbed toward the cruise liner.

“They’re too far!” Hassim yelled over the sound of their own boat’s engines. “That was a waste of a grenade.” Sure enough, Emma was pleased to see the grenade self-destruct a full twenty feet in front of the ship.

The popping sound of gunfire was followed by a yell. She watched a pirate in the lead boat fly back. He landed on the boat’s floor, out of her range of vision.

“That was a nice shot,” Hassim said.

Emma looked at the men on the topmost deck. Sumner was no longer standing but was a dark mass on the edge, by the guardrail. He was on his stomach aiming a gun.

“I know that man. He’s an expert marksman,” Emma said.

Hassim looked thoughtful. “Is he the one that you’re coming here to help?”

She nodded.

Hassim pointed his chin at the messenger bag at her feet. “Take the bag with you. There are some grenades in there you can light and throw if you need to. Roducci sent them. He insisted you have them.”

Emma aimed the RPG without comment. “Tell me when we’re within range,” she said. She didn’t want to make the same mistake the pirates had and fire too soon.

Hassim eyed the screen before him. “I’ll tell you in detail. Stark?” Hassim didn’t turn his head.

Stark stepped up.

“Your weapon has a firing range of a hundred fifty to two hun
dred fifty meters. The RPG can get about three hundred. More, in the hands of an expert. Let Caldridge shoot first, then cover her by targeting anyone who looks like he’s even thinking of retaliating.”

Stark moved up behind Emma.

“Don’t stand there,” she said.

He started. “Oh, right. Back blast. Don’t fire that thing without warning me,” he said.

They came within four hundred feet of the lead pirates. By now Emma could make out the people on the
Kaiser Franz,
as well as a large gash on the vessel’s side. The ship was huge compared to the tiny boats surrounding it. It churned through the water but seemed unable to maintain a steady pace. At one moment it appeared to surge forward before slowing and then surging again. It was like a barely functioning car lurching in its last throes.

The pirates shot another grenade. This one aimed true, headed right to the deck where Sumner waited. Emma held her breath. A cracking sound echoed in the air. The pirate holding the RPG went down. A second gunshot was followed by the grenade exploding in midair.

“Get ready to fire,” Hassim said.

Emma aimed at the lead pirates.

“Now,” Hassim said.

She fired. The rocket catapulted out of the tube just as the boat hit a wave. She stumbled backward. She kept going in that direction to allow Stark to step forward. He aimed, held the position for a second, then fired. Emma saw the gun buck on recoil.

Her grenade exploded five feet from the back of the pirate boat. Shrapnel rained down on the inhabitants. They were close enough now that she could hear their yells as the bits of exploded ordnance pelted them. She couldn’t tell if Stark’s shot was wide or not, but he followed it up with another that did hit its mark. A pirate at the boat’s rear dropped like a stone. She saw a muzzle flash from Sumner’s gun as he fired another shot and the pilot fell, hitting the side of the small
craft and tumbling overboard. There were three men left in the boat. The two other pirate ships appeared from behind the cruise liner and roared toward the front.

“Here come the troops. Excellent. When they bunch up together, we’ll veer off to the back,” Hassim said.

The attackers formed into a roughly triangular pattern, joining the lead ship in firing at the
Kaiser Franz
’s bridge. Several flashes of muzzle fire from Sumner told Emma that he had turned his attention to the new attackers. One pirate in the second boat raised a rifle in their direction.

“Time to go,” Hassim said. “Hold on.”

He put the craft in a tight right-hand turn. Emma stumbled to the side with the curve.

“Good hits, both of you,” Hassim said. “Stark, take the RPG.” He looked at Emma. “You should get ready to board.” She reloaded the RPG and handed it to Stark.

“Watch my back blast,” he said. She scrambled to the other side. Stark aimed and fired. Flames leaped out the back of the tube an impressive distance of at least ten feet. Emma grabbed the messenger bag, slung it over her left shoulder, put her teardrop backpack on the other shoulder, and hauled the large duffel to the boat’s edge.

“I’m ready,” she said.

The
Kaiser Franz
loomed closer. They were in its shadow, skirting the ship’s side, heading to the rear of the enormous vessel. As they did, Emma looked up at the portholes for the lower-level staterooms. One framed the anxious face of a man. He caught Emma’s eye, and his widened as they looked at each other. They kept moving, and the man disappeared from view.

“Let me get off another shot before you turn behind,” Stark said. Hassim nodded and manipulated the throttle, powering down the boat. Stark aimed the AK-47 off the back. He fired off ten shots in quick succession. A cry went up.

“Got one at least.” Stark’s voice held a grim note of satisfaction.
“They’re not following us right now. The guy with the gun on the cruise ship is keeping them busy.”

“I’m cutting around the back,” Hassim said. He made another hard right, curving behind the liner and angling across its wake. They bounced into the air with the force of the waves.

Emma stared at the wake in dismay. Black oil poured from a hole in the ship’s hull. It flowed out behind in a long stream. She didn’t know where it originated from, but it didn’t bode well.

Stark tapped her on the shoulder. “Are you sure you want to do this? That ship is going to stall soon. When it does, those pirates will be crawling all over it.”

Emma
wasn’t
sure. Now that she was there, she understood the extreme danger in which Sumner had once again found himself. The pirates alone were trouble enough, but once they got hold of the ricin, they would be armed far above the crude explosives that they currently carried. Whatever happened, they could not be allowed to obtain it.

“I’m going,” she said.

Stark ran an angry hand through his hair. Before he could say anything, Hassim spoke up.

“I’ll get as close to that aft ladder as I can, but it’s still going to require that you leap. I suggest you leave the duffel for last. Once you’re on the ladder, I can try to hand it to you.”

“If we miss?”

“We can’t. It will drop like a stone. The mission will be over. Finished.”

“So not an option,” Emma said.

“No.”

“How about I lose these two other bags and just jump with the duffel?” Emma said.

“The duffel’s too heavy. It will hinder you. If it does, then
you
will drop like a stone. I’d rather you get on the ladder. If we can’t get the duffel to you this time, we’ll swing around and give it another try.”

“Well, at least let me take the ricin testing kits.” Emma zipped
open the duffel and grabbed three of the boxes labeled
BIOHAZARD DETECTION KIT
. She shoved them into the messenger bag.

They moved closer to the ship. The sounds of exploding grenades intermingled with the whooshing of the waves that buffeted the little boat. Hassim slid the craft up to the ladder hanging off the
Kaiser Franz
’s side. He yanked the steering wheel to the left when a wave threatened to slam them against the larger vessel. The spray from the wake blew in the air, misting Emma. She grasped the handrail and prepared to move over the edge. The rail was cold and slick with a combination of water and oil. She scissored one leg, then the other over it and hung from the side, facing forward, her feet on the very edge of the deck where it met the hull. The weight of the two packs seemed to steady her, but the boat was slippery underfoot, and she couldn’t imagine what would happen once the ungainly duffel was added. It was sure to unbalance her.

“Next try!” Hassim yelled to her. He stayed parallel for a moment before angling closer.

Emma kept her concentration on the approaching ladder. She bounced with every wave that hit them. At four feet away, when the ladder was opposite her, she leaped.

Her oil-slicked hands slipped on the rails. She managed to grab one with her right hand but missed with her left. Pain shot through the fingers of her right hand. The knuckles felt as if they were being pulled apart from the weight of her body as she hung there. Her grip was loosening with each swell of the wave. She swung back and forth, trying to grab anything to lessen the pain in her fingers. She managed to get a grip on the ladder’s side rail. Once she did, it was easier to maneuver her feet onto the rungs. She turned to Hassim, who stayed with her but once again parallel and at a safe distance.

“Throw me the pack!” she said. Hassim looked at her, the ladder, then lifted the pack. Before he could throw it, Stark put a hand on his shoulder. Emma watched him lean closer to Hassim while the two men talked. They reached some agreement.

“Get ready. I’m coming with the pack,” Stark said.

Emma was speechless. That he would go from calling her crazy for boarding the vessel to joining her in the madness was remarkable. Before she could respond, the Somalis came around the back of the cruise ship, hurtling straight for them.

“Go!” Stark yelled.

Emma needed no further encouragement. She started up the ladder as fast as she could. Behind her she heard Hassim’s engine noise increase as he opened the throttle. The boat shot away, leaving her alone to scale the side. She looked up. The climb seemed to last forever. She moved as efficiently as she could, given the motion of the boat, the slipperiness of the ladder, and the weight on her back. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the pirates approaching.

When she was ten feet from the top, she heard the cracking sound of gunfire from above. The pirates behind her yelled. She was three feet from her goal now, and moving with a speed that would have impressed her had she the time to admire it. She was at the top when she heard the sound of an RPG being fired.

A hand reached over the side, grabbed a fistful of her shirt in the back, along with the strap of one of the packs, and she felt herself being physically hauled over the metal railing. She gave whoever was pulling her onto the deck some help by pushing off her toes, vaulting over the side in a heap of limbs, still flying forward, unable to stop her trajectory. She catapulted headlong into the man’s body, the weight of hers throwing him backward onto the deck. She landed on top of him. He grunted in her ear as the fall took the breath out of him. He grabbed her around her torso, rolled her, reversing their positions, until her back was on the hard wooden planks and he was on top of her with his head against her cheek. She looked up and saw a strange steel wall looming over them, with a porthole in it. She stared at it, fascinated, wanting to close her eyes to avoid seeing the grenade strike them but finding it impossible not to watch.

The grenade hit the wall from behind and angled from right to
left. It exploded on impact. Emma felt her eardrums shiver with the sound, popping as if she were on a plane at thirty thousand feet. With the cacophony came a blast of heat and wind. The wall twisted with the force of the warhead. It curved to the side and bent in half. The entire contraption flipped into the air, and Emma caught a glance of flying shrapnel as the wall cartwheeled to their right. Bits of metal flew in every direction. She closed her eyes when it rained on them, before opening them again. The object hammered back onto the deck and rolled in a crazy, lopsided fashion, flinging off parts as it did. It came to rest twenty feet away and stopped. One thin bar swung from a metallic thread that kept it attached to the debris.

The man on top of Emma raised his head, and she got her first full look at him. Sumner loomed over her, his face a mixture of anger and disbelief.

SUMNER ROLLED OFF HER AND CRAB-WALKED ACROSS THE DECK
to the far wall, where a rifle lay. He returned to the railing, staying low. The cruise ship kept surging in fitful starts and stops, making it hard for Emma to stay put. Sumner, too, seemed to be having trouble. She watched him brace his shoulder against the railing and his foot on the deck. He wore black gym shoes with rubber soles that squeaked on the polished planks. A large man stepped out of a nearby door. Emma recognized him as the person who had stared at her while she was trying to board.

“Block, get down,” Sumner said. The man hunkered down before crawling to Emma.

“Can you shoot?” she asked.

Block raised an eyebrow. “Yes.”

She lifted her pant leg at the ankle and pulled out the gun. It seemed as if she was forever giving her gun to someone else to shoot. She handed it to Block.

He smiled. “Finally I get a real gun. Sumner’s been hogging the rifle. What are you going to use?”

She reached into the messenger bag and removed two grenades. “Do you have any matches?”

Block handed her a small book of matches embossed with the words
KAISER FRANZ
.

“I’ll light these and throw them if I need to.”

Block looked intrigued. “How about I give
you
the gun and
I
throw the grenades? I might be able to throw farther than you.”

“Good idea,” Emma said.

“Block, do you have a radio?” Sumner asked.

“I do,” Block said.

“I don’t hear anything. Call Janklow and ask him what’s happening on their end.”

Block pulled a walkie-talkie off his belt and depressed the button. “Janklow, they gone?”

Emma moved up next to Sumner with the matches still in her hand.

“You should get inside. I don’t want you to die from a grenade,” he told her.

“I’m staying.”

Sumner didn’t say anything. He turned back to stare out to sea.

“Janklow says they’re gone. Took off all at once. Like they got an order to retreat or something,” Block said.

Sumner visibly relaxed. Emma felt a breath rush from her body, as if she’d been holding it for a very long time. She heard Block’s walkie-talkie rattle again. A man’s voice flowed out of it.

“The crazy Western woman, is she on board?”

Emma snorted. “Is he talking about me?”

Sumner nodded. “You think he’s wrong?”

“About what, that I’m crazy?”

“Yes.”

“As crazy as you are,” she said.

Block laughed behind her. “Yeah, Janklow, she’s here and giving Sumner what for.”

The walkie-talkie emitted another squawk. Emma heard the man’s voice again. “Ask Sumner if she’s the beautiful mad scientist.”

Sumner allowed a trace of a smile to cross his face but said nothing.

Block depressed the button. “She’s beautiful, and she’s nuts to join us, so I guess the answer is yes.”

Sumner grabbed a rung of the railing and pulled himself up to standing. “This is Emma Caldridge. Caldridge, Harry Block.”

“Pleased to meet you, Ms. Caldridge,” Block said.

Sumner handed Block the rifle. “Can you take a watch? Ms. Caldridge and I have a lot to talk about.”

Emma watched Block heft the gun with obvious pleasure. “I sure will.” He handed Emma her pistol. “Don’t hurt him. He’s the most depressing guy I’ve ever met, but I’m getting used to having him around.”

She was surprised. “Depressing? Not at all.”

Block grunted. “Just ask him what our chances of surviving are and then tell me if you don’t think he’s depressing.”

“Our chances of surviving just got a whole lot better,” Sumner said.

Block looked happier. “Let’s hope you’re right.”

Sumner waved Emma to a nearby door.

The minute they passed through it, she turned to him. “I’m glad you’re alive. I was afraid I’d be too late.”

The hallway was dark. All the lights were off. The ship continued to move in fits and starts, but it was slowing. The surges were not as violent, the slowing less pronounced. Emma leaned on the wall to brace herself against the movement. Sumner supported himself by placing a palm on the same wall, next to her head. Emma thought he looked exhausted. His dark hair hung in clumps, and deep circles rimmed his eyes. He rubbed his face against the arm that held him steady. When he was done, he gave her one of his intense looks, but it was tinged with another emotion Emma couldn’t identify.

“Did Banner send you?”

“He wanted to, but Stromeyer was against it. I sent myself.”

Sumner took a deep breath. He shook his head. “You shouldn’t have come.”

“I had to.”

“Colombia not enough excitement for you? You needed more?”

“I couldn’t live with myself if you died and I hadn’t tried to help. And besides, what about you? Are you a danger junkie or something?”

He put his head down and looked at the floor for a moment before looking back into her eyes.

“I’m furious that you took the risk, but at the same time very, very glad to see you.”

His voice sounded like gravel rolled over, as if he hadn’t slept, but there was no mistaking the emotion behind the words. Something small in her uncurled, as if the constant hold she kept on her emotions were relaxing for a moment. Instead of the usual rush of despair and grief that followed whenever she released her vigilance, she felt calm. Perhaps for the first time in days. Sumner leaned toward her, lowering his head to hers.

From down the hall came the sound of several people approaching. Emma watched Sumner fold back into himself, almost as if he were physically pulling himself together. He stepped away from her, breaking the connection that had passed between them.

“Heading to hot spots is my job,” he said.

Emma sighed. “And chemistry is mine.”

He grew serious. “There’s ricin on board.”

She nodded. “I know. I was supposed to have a kit to identify it. But Banner’s contact was unable to throw it to me on the ladder. I only hope he and Stark got away.”

Sumner straightened. “Who’s Stark?”

“Richard Stark. The CEO of Price Pharmaceuticals.”

Sumner got a strange look on his face.

“What? What’s wrong?” Emma said.

He grabbed her by the hand. “Come with me.”

Sumner steered her into the bowels of the ship. When he came to a door with a keypad, he tapped in a code. The door swung open. He led her to a large crate with the word
PRICE
stamped all over it.

“What’s this?”

He took a deep breath. “This is where the ricin is.”

Emma felt her heart plunge.

“Could he be involved?” Sumner said.

She thought about Stark. Ran the events of the past days over in her mind. “Oh, yeah, he could definitely be involved.” Still, she didn’t want to believe it.

Sumner seemed to catch her reluctance. “What’s he like?”

Emma thought about Stark. “Driven. Smart. Tough.”

“Ruthless?”

She nodded. “In business? He has that reputation. He told me he’d do anything to ensure that Price stayed viable.”

“And personally? Ruthless there as well?”

Emma wasn’t sure. “He lives to work. Nothing else seems to matter, but he does have a daughter.”

“What do you think of him?”

The question was a good one. She had no real answer for it.

“I don’t trust him, but I can’t tell you why. He’s never done anything to hurt me that I know of.”

A plump man with a dour face, wearing a white uniform, stepped into the cargo area. He ran his eyes over Emma.

“This the chemist?” he said.

“Nathan Janklow, meet Emma Caldridge.”

Janklow shook her hand. “What do you think of our little problem?”

“The ricin?”

“The pirates. Without them we’d quietly sail into some port and have the experts remove the ricin just as quietly.”

Emma turned her attention back to the crate. “Do we know who claimed that ricin is in there?”

“Banner informed us,” Sumner said.

That solved that. Emma wasn’t about to question anything Banner said. Ricin protocol required a whole host of cautious steps and
protective equipment that was currently back on the little speedboat floating somewhere on the ocean. Emma could only hope that Hassim and Stark were alive and still able to drive the boat.

“Normally I’d follow hazmat procedures, but in this case I think we just cover up as much as possible and get to it. We don’t have a lot of time.”

“What are normal procedures? Space suits?” Janklow said.

“Protective clothing, of course. But ricin isn’t readily absorbed into the skin, so we can proceed with something less and still survive the encounter. It’s inhalation that I’m worried about. I don’t suppose that you have anything like respirator masks?”

Janklow thought a minute. “We have temporary fire masks. I say ‘temporary’ because they consist of a simple plastic hood that goes over one’s head and contains a respirator filled with enough air for forty-five minutes. They’re not meant to be a full-fledged mask but instead are designed to buy a person time to get out of a smoky area.”

Emma gazed at the crate. It was wooden, with an outer layer of plastic shrink wrap. There was a risk just opening it, but the danger rose exponentially with each layer they unpeeled.

“Any protective clothing?” she asked.

“Will work coveralls do? We have some in the mechanical room.”

“Gloves?”

“Rubber or cloth? I might also be able to dig up some surgical gloves in the infirmary.”

“Surgical with a heavy workman’s glove over it would be great. We’ll use the combination during the crate’s initial breakdown, and I’ll strip mine off to the surgical layer during the testing phase, when I’ll need some dexterity. I suggest we save the masks for after we get through the first layers. Maybe a simple face mask from the infirmary will help.”

“Can the ricin particles infiltrate a standard face mask?” Sumner asked.

Emma wasn’t sure, but she thought it could. “Probably, but it doesn’t hurt to wear them anyhow.”

“Let’s get to it,” Janklow said.

Forty-five minutes later, Emma, Sumner, Janklow, and a man named Clutch were dressed in heavy mechanics’ jumpsuits and work gloves. Emma had rolled her suit at the sleeves and the pant legs to allow her to use her hands and to walk unhindered. She watched while Janklow and Clutch used crowbars to pry off the crate’s vertical slats. Once those were removed, the only thing standing between Emma and the vaccine vials was another layer of shrink wrap and the individual cardboard boxes that housed the vaccines. The second layer of plastic was off in no time. They were down to the boxes.

Emma couldn’t see inside them, but if the vaccines were packaged like other vials she’d seen, each large box would contain four smaller ones that in turn would contain twelve vials. There were thirty-six large boxes, which meant they had 1,728 vials to analyze. Something told Emma that they’d never get through them all before the pirates regrouped. She needed a strategy to both physically arrange the vials and check each as rapidly as was feasible.

“Lay them out on the floor. Don’t put the mask on until the last possible minute. Only wear it while you look through each small container.”

Sumner grabbed a large box and lowered it to the floor. He used a razor knife to slice open the top, then removed each smaller carton and began lining them up. Janklow joined him. They worked with a quiet efficiency. Emma helped, all the while trying to dredge up facts about ricin from her memory.

“You said it doesn’t easily penetrate the skin. Does that mean that if it gets under our gloves or clothing, we won’t die?” Janklow asked the question while moving boxes back and forth.

“Washing with soap and water will work.” Emma was sure of that.

Two women stepped into the room. The first was young, about
Emma’s age, with white-blond hair and a pretty, open face. Her eyes flicked around before locking on Sumner. She smiled when she saw him, a shy smile. It was clear she was attracted to him, and Emma felt a small twinge of something. She tamped it down, in order to stay focused. Sumner nodded at the women, but he looked back at the boxes, and it was clear his mind was on the problem before him.

The second woman was a bit older, perhaps nearing forty-five, dressed in jeans and a white sleeveless top that hugged the curves of an impressive chest. She had long caramel-colored hair streaked with blond. Her eyes locked on Sumner as well, but she had a determined air about her. Emma thought she was there to deliver an ultimatum. After a minute, when Sumner finally looked up from his work, the second woman spoke.

“Harry’s on the deck holding your gun and telling me to stay in my room, but I want no truck with that. I want to help.” She indicated the woman next to her. “And Marina does, too.”

Marina nodded. “I can’t stand the waiting.”

To Emma they seemed an unlikely pair. The first woman had a German accent, while the second had a southern drawl. One looked as pure as the driven snow, the other like a steel magnolia. The second one appeared the type of woman who wasn’t about to let anyone or anything get in her way. Emma watched the proceedings while continuing to unload the boxes.

The southerner walked up to her. “I’m Cindy, Harry’s wife.”

“Emma Caldridge. You shouldn’t be in here.” Emma kept her voice mild, but what she wanted to do was throw up her arms and warn them away.

Janklow stepped in. “Ma’am, you’re not allowed to be here without protective clothing.”

Cindy’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

Clutch stopped working. “Because it’s a cargo hold. The door to it is marked ‘Private,’ did you see that?” His voice held a harsh
note. Emma didn’t like Clutch. His every word since meeting her—and the words were few—had been either an order or a challenge.

“The door was open. What’s in the cargo?”

“Ma’am, please leave. You can’t be here, and that’s it,” Janklow said.

“A chemical weapon,” Sumner said.

Cindy’s mouth dropped open. Marina’s eyes widened. They both froze.

“At least we think that’s what it is,” Sumner continued. “We’re not telling the rest of the passengers for obvious reasons. But once we open these cartons, you could be at great risk, so unless you’re serious about helping, you both need to get as far away as possible.”