Running Dark (26 page)

A skiff floated directly below them, surrounded by the jellyfish bloom. In it were Abdul, the American soldier, and a man with angry eyes and the attitude of a commander. He spoke, and the others appeared to jump in response. Emma wondered if he was this Mungabe that she’d heard about. Next to him was a pirate holding an RPG with a piece of red-colored cloth attached to it. These three watched as their comrades climbed a ladder attached to the cruise ship.

The blaring of a huge bullhorn overlay the din of gunfire. It bellowed in short blasts. The third held fast, reverberating through the air in one long howl. A massive warship boiled toward them, less than a half mile away. Following the warning blast came the distinctive
chop-chop
sound of helicopter rotors firing up. A copter rose lazily into the air.

“It’s the
Redoubtable,
” Sumner said.

The pirates who remained on the ladders all leaped away from the
Kaiser Franz.
Some fell onto the skiff, but others landed in the water around it. One man whimpered in panic while he splashed at the jellyfish all around him. The man with the angry eyes yelled at them, waving toward the cruise liner, as if exhorting them to return. Abdul, the American soldier, and the pirate with the RPG and the red scarf yelled as well, but the men surrounded the skiff, trying to pull themselves onto it. The one Emma thought of as Mungabe took out a pistol and shot the first two over the side. Their bodies fell backward into the waves.

Sumner shoved the Dragunov at her.

“Shoot it. I can’t. My arm isn’t functioning.” Sumner’s voice was thin. “We only have eight bullets left, so keep it on semi.”

“I’ll miss on semi,” Emma said.

“The switch is near the trigger. I’ll help you aim.”

Emma took the gun and pointed it at Mungabe. She felt Sumner stretch out next to her, leaning onto her side to steady her. He wrapped his right arm around her body but hissed in pain with the motion.

“Aim at the widest part of him. Take a deep breath and then hold it while you depress the trigger.”

Emma closed one eye and sighted Mungabe through the scope. He was a continually moving target as he braced himself against the motion of the little boat on the ocean’s waves. He glared at the men all around him in the water before looking up.

Emma took a deep breath, held it, and depressed the trigger. The gun bucked, and she watched Mungabe scream in anger. The bullet missed him completely. He raised his own rifle and fired. Sumner moved his entire torso onto her, sheltering her with his body as the bullets rattled into the side of the ship. Two ricocheted off the upright railing.

“Screw it,” Emma said. “I’m switching to auto. Help me hold it in place.”

She flipped the switch to auto. She didn’t bother to hold her breath,
didn’t bother to sight him—she just pointed in his general direction and squeezed the trigger. The gun rattled in response, bucking and shivering against her as it let loose a volley of bullets. Sumner wrapped his hand around the butt, helping her hold it steady. She moved the weapon back and forth in a sweeping motion. Abdul dropped—if from a bullet, she didn’t know—and the American Somali followed. Within seconds the gun was empty.

Mungabe stood on the boat’s edge firing back at her, oblivious to the danger. Then, abruptly, he paused and watched. After a moment a grin creased his face. He reached for the rope that attached his skiff to the cruise liner and pulled closer. He placed a hand on the ladder and started his ascent.

“He knows we’re out,” Sumner said.

Emma could barely hear him, his voice was so weak. She slid out from under his body.

“Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” She crab-walked back to the stairwell entrance, took a deep breath, and stepped inside.

Pirates lay all around, their bodies draped at various locations in the stairwell. Emma picked her way over them, noting that most were breathing, albeit in short, shallow gasps. She pushed the door open to the bridge. Here the pirates were more alert. Some coughed, while others hung their heads outside a window that had been smashed. They’d managed to get enough fresh air circulating to retain consciousness. Still, none paid her any attention as she sidled in and grabbed the bucket’s handle. She worked her way back up the stairs and onto the deck. Sumner hadn’t moved. She swallowed her fear and focused on inching her way to the edge.

Mungabe had reached the railing on the deck below. His head was down while he concentrated on climbing the ladder. Emma hovered over him.

“Mungabe!” Emma prayed that she was right and the man climbing the ladder was indeed the pirate leader.

He looked up.

She threw the mixture.

The stream hit him slightly off center, landing on his shoulders but still managing to splash onto his face. He let out an ear-piercing howl. He made a grab at his eyes and fell backward, into the ocean. When his head reemerged, Emma saw him desperately splashing the water into his eyes.

She watched the massing jellyfish bloom encircle him. His frantic movements triggered their instincts to sting. His howls reached a fever pitch as the creatures stung him. He thrashed once before disappearing under the water.

The
Redoubtable
’s horn blared again. The pirates who were left in the remaining small craft unwound the ropes that attached them to the cruise liner, tossing them off. They revved their engines and retreated, leaving their remaining crew members in the water to their own fates. Only Mungabe’s boat was left. No movement came from it.

Sumner lay on the deck, his eyes closed. The stark look to his skin told her that he was still losing blood from the wound. She inched next to him.

“Sumner?”

He didn’t respond. Emma checked for a pulse. She started to cry when she found one, thin but steady. A shadow fell across them. She looked up to see Block standing over her.

“Oh, God, tell me he ain’t dead.”

Emma shook her head, unable to speak.

Block squatted down next to her. “Marina’s bad. Bullet real close to her heart. Cindy’s holding a wadded piece of cloth against the wound, but we need to get these two onto that carrier and to a medic.”

Emma heard the sound of the first helicopter lowering onto the pool deck. Block shielded his eyes to watch it land.

“Here come the reinforcements,” he said.

BANNER STOOD NEXT TO THE
REDOUBTABLE’S
MEDIC AS HE
worked on irrigating Sumner’s gunshot wound.

“The wound isn’t bad, but he’s lost a ton of blood and taken a hell of a hit on his head,” the medic said.

Banner nodded. Sumner still hadn’t regained consciousness after they’d boarded the
Kaiser Franz,
and now he wouldn’t. The medic had knocked him out with pain pills. Sumner lay on the gurney, looking like death.

Emma stood on the other side of Sumner, watching. Banner thought she looked pale but remarkably good, considering her ordeal.

“What will happen to Stark?” she asked.

Banner sighed. “Hard to say. He has an excellent defense, due to the fact that he notified the authorities about the theft.”

“Has he said who the financier was that propped up Price?”

Banner shook his head. “He says he’ll take the Fifth if asked. He seems to think he’ll be putting his life in danger if he speaks.”

Emma nodded, but Banner thought she didn’t look too concerned about the possibility.

There was a knock at the door. A man stuck his head in. “Ms. Caldridge? Someone has asked to speak with you.”

Emma stepped into the hall.

Stark stood there.

“What do you want?” Emma said.

“I wanted to see if he’s okay.”

Emma sighed. “The doctor thinks he’ll heal.”

Stark ran a hand through his hair. “I also wanted to tell you I’m sorry. For everything. I should have spoken up when I realized someone was testing the drug illegally. I was a fool.”

Emma didn’t reply. People were dead because of him. When she remained quiet, Stark started again.

“I’ve resigned. I quit.”

Emma wasn’t impressed, and she let him see that she wasn’t.

“I want you to know that I’ve decided to make some changes.”

Emma said nothing.

“May I call you sometime?”

“No.”

He heaved a sigh. Emma turned to walk back into the infirmary.

“Emma?”

She stopped.

“I want to be the type of man someone would trust with their life.”

Emma went back through the door to two such men.

EMMA STRETCHED AWAKE.
She sat in a large armchair placed next to Sumner’s bed. She checked her watch by the light of a small reading lamp on the nightstand. It was five o’clock in the morning. She glanced up. Sumner’s eyes were open, and he watched her in silence.

“When did you wake up?” Emma spoke in a whisper.

“Ten minutes ago.”

“How do you feel?”

He grimaced. “Like a hatchet’s been inserted into my brain.”

Emma smiled.

“Did everyone make it?”

“Everyone except Herr Schullmann. Hassim’s fine. Not a scratch on him. Marina’s not so fine. They patched her up as best they could and are flying her to a real hospital. Doctor says she’s critical.”

“Does she know about her father?”

Emma shook her head. “I don’t think so. She wasn’t conscious. They’ll probably hold that information until she’s better. And Block asked me to keep this near you.” She bent to the floor and slid the Dragunov out from under the bed. She showed it to him. She was glad to see Sumner smile. “He and Cindy said they’ll stop by later.”

Sumner shifted. “I’m very, very happy to see you.”

“I think you already told me that on the cruise ship.”

He nodded. “Well, I’m saying it again.”

“We have to stop meeting like this,” Emma said, trying to lighten the moment. She was suddenly nervous about the direction the conversation was taking.

He moved to shake his head but hissed in pain. He gave a weak wave of the hand. “I agree. I promise to make it better next time.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? How?”

“I’m going to teach you how to shoot a rifle.”

Emma laughed.

Little did I know when creating this story that the Somali pirates would explode into the news. Books are written long before they are printed and sold, and this one is no different. When I began with the concept of pirates attacking a cruise ship, no one really thought such an event could occur. The people at Morrow responded with a polite “Pirates? Like Jack Sparrow?,” but to their credit, gave me the green light anyway.

Many thanks to Commodore Ronald Warwick, master of the
Queen Mary 2
for more than thirty years. His son, Samuel Warwick, put us in touch, and Commodore Warwick graciously agreed to answer some questions. I appreciated his suggestions about crew size, ship maintenance, and his comment that while turning off the lights and radar to begin “running dark” (my term) is illegal, he doubted anyone would fault the captain in the instance of an attack. Any mistakes are mine.

I also wish to thank Paul Salopek, a Pulitzer Prize–winning journalist who helped me with information about Somalia. Mr. Salopek wrote an article on the subject for the
Chicago Tribune,
though Somalia is only one of the more dangerous places that he has traveled to and reported from. He answered my questions about khat, Somalia, and Somali fishermen as pirates quickly and from God knows where. Wherever you are, Mr. Salopek, be safe.

The jellyfish bloom idea came from my own experience encountering one and the subsequent research that I did regarding the phenom
enon. Thanks to Dr. Jennifer E. Purcell, marine scientist and adjunct professor at Western Washington University, for her input, especially regarding the fact that even dried jellyfish tentacles will fire.

Certain types of jellyfish are among the most dangerous creatures on earth, and although box jellyfish are not commonly found in the Indian Ocean, they are migrating more as the pollution in our seas force the blooms to grow and move.

Wilson Vanderlock is a fictional character, but the khat flights from Kenya to Somalia are real and some do take passengers along for a nominal fee. Khat is legal throughout most of Africa, but Somalia’s fields were burned during the wars that raged there. They are forced to import it daily as described.

The drug injected into Emma and others in the book is a fictional compound, but I got the idea from two separate drugs that can both increase endurance and create addictions. Neither drug, however, will kill on the second injection.

One drug is called a dopamine agonist and is used for Parkinson’s sufferers. Dopamine agonists sometimes have the unfortunate side effect of creating addictions in people who have had none before. I found the idea of turning on an addiction to be fascinating and wanted to explore what would happen to people in positions of power when such a side effect occurred.

The endurance pill also exists, although it’s currently investigational. The compound, called AICAR, can increase endurance by a whopping forty-four percent with a single dose. I loved the whole idea of getting such a huge boost while doing nothing—who wouldn’t? To my knowledge the endurance drug hasn’t been approved for use as yet, so I guess we’re all still stuck training to increase ours. I’ll be running on Chicago’s lakefront and in whatever city or town I travel to, and I look forward to seeing you there!

I’d like to thank the readers, whose enthusiasm and friendly e-mails made my debut launch special, and who continue to cheer me throughout the year.

Many thanks to Tavia Kowalchuk, Danielle Bartlett, Shawn Nicholls, Marisa Benedetto, Wendy Lee, and the entire Harper Collins and William Morrow staff, who helped me time and time again during the launch of the first novel and who made a debut author feel great.

I’m indebted to my editor, Lyssa Keusch, who made suggestions that were right on target and remained patient when I went on a tear and revised an entire section. Her keen eye for detail is greatly appreciated.

Barbara Poelle, my literary agent, trusted adviser, and good friend, keeps me balanced and makes me laugh. Working with her is always a joy.

Quite a bit of research went into this novel, and I’m grateful to Paul Salopek, Commodore Ronald Warwick, Samuel Warwick, and Dr. Jennifer E. Purcell, whose contributions are more fully explained in the author’s note at the end.

I was unbelievably lucky to receive the support of two of the most talented authors in the writing world. My heartfelt thanks go out to Tess Gerritsen, who went above and beyond the call by not only giving the first novel a blurb, but taking steps to see that it made it to Harper Collins at just the right time, and to Lee Child, who also donated his name to the cause and who continues to answer all my
industry questions with good humor and an insight that I find invaluable.

Dana Kaye, friend and now principal of Kaye Publicity, assisted me with local publicity and the myriad of day-to-day details that go into a book launch. I couldn’t have kept it all straight without her.

Darwyn Jones is a trusted reader who I can always count on to give me excellent feedback. My thanks to him for his reactions and suggestions on a key scene.

And, finally, to my husband, Klaus, who worked his own business travel schedule around mine. At one point during the tour my flight was late arriving and his was late leaving, and I’ll never forget his smile when we bumped into each other at the airport terminal. He suggested lunch, and dining at O’Hare has never been better. Thanks, my love, for the fun.