The Guardian's Wildchild (33 page)

His enemy was less cautious. The lights from the bridges of the small fifty-foot boats were dim but illuminated the gun turrets on their bows. Five hundred yards out from the
Nonnah
’s starboard side, the attack vessels spread out in a wide “V” formation and dropped motorized rafts into the water.

The commander tensed. He considered his enemy’s next move. He was almost certain of what they’d do. If he was right, the
Nonnah
’s crew was prepared.

“Carla, alert the captain,” said Moon.

Carla sounded the captain’s comlink and double-checked to make sure her service pistol was armed. Once the rafts were within fifty yards of the
Nonnah
, the commander activated vibration mode on all personnel’s comlinks. As the rafts edged up to the
Nonnah
’s starboard side, the attack vessels slowly moved into firing range. Moon left the navigation room and stood with his remaining officers, concealed on the bridge. He readied his handgun.

The unmistakable thud and scraping of grappling hooks sounded on the ship’s starboard side. The commander waited. Like rats climbing up a rope, the enemy shimmied up their lines to the ship’s railing. Dressed in black from head to toe with their faces painted black, the eighteen pirates were barely discernible from the backdrop of the dark sea. Flashes of light reflected off the knife blades grasped by their mouths and automatic firearms slung over their shoulders.

They paused, ready to retreat and drop to the ocean. Still hanging on the ocean side of the railing, they scanned up and down the ship’s decks. They strained their eyes for any movement, listened for sounds of weapons being maneuvered, and sniffed for the scent of a seaman’s nervous sweat.

Satisfied the element of surprise was on their side, they swung over the railing and crouched low on the deck. As one gave signals to the rest, a loud command came from the
Nonnah
’s bridge.

“Fire!”

Gunfire erupted from the
Nonnah
’s crew. The enemy scrambled to find cover. Three managed to jump overboard the second they heard the order to fire. Five bodies lay motionless on the deck. The remaining pirates returned fire, fiercely surging ahead to the ship’s walls and finding cover behind crates.

The battle raged on for a long thirty-five minutes. The
Nonnah
’s crew lived up to its reputation for being well trained and fearless. Pirates dropped and cried in agony as the seamen fired mercilessly upon them. The pirates’ boats exploded and blazed in the night sky.

Sam stood in the shadows watching his officers and naval crew handle the situation. He was pleased to see his first officer had the battle well under control.

“Captain,” hollered Moon. “We sunk two of their boats. Buzz in the chopper got one. Third one is disabled. The rest have given up and left.”

Sam looked with pride at his first officer, who was wild eyed and thrilled with his victory. The battle, brief as it was, had been well executed. Moon had waited to make his move on his terms. He ordered Buzz to return to the ship and a team to lower a lifeboat and pick up any surviving pirates. Crews were dispatched to survey the damage to the
Nonnah
’s hull and remove the bodies from the deck.

“Any casualties, Rhett?”

“A few of our men have been wounded. Doc’s about ready with his report on numbers.”

Sam nodded his approval. “I’ll be in my office. When you’re ready, give me a report on the casualties and damage. Well done, Number One!”

When he received the details of the damage, Sam turned on his computer and prepared a message to the admiral’s office about the attack.

Encountered brief attack by unknown enemy at zero-three-thirty-five hours. No U.S. naval personnel deaths; two with serious wounds; six with minor wounds. Some damage to cargo. Extensive damage to the ship’s decks but seaworthy. Two enemy surface vessels sunk, one disabled. Fifteen enemy casualties; eight wounded being treated by medical staff. Successful tactical defense operations under command of Commander Everett Moon.

Sam knew the attack on the
Nonnah
would scarcely raise anyone’s eyebrows. Pirate attacks were as routine as engine problems. It was nearly 0500 hours. Believing Sidney might be worried about the battle, he activated his comlink to her cell.

“Sidney, are you awake?”

She didn’t reply.

He called out a little louder, “Sidney, are you up?”

No response. Sam tensed. He connected to Bridges comlink and directed him to check on Sidney’s cell immediately. A few minutes later, Bridges called Sam and advised him that Sidney wasn’t in her cell and that her door was found ajar. Sam’s comlink sounded and his monitor screen lit up. Admiral Garland was calling.

“Good morning, Admiral. You’ve received my initial report?”

“Yes. Any idea who the culprits were?”

“Not at this time. Lieutenant Bridges will interrogate the prisoners. Do you have any leads, sir?”

“No. Make doubly sure my packages are accounted for.”

“Yes, sir. Admiral, we’re fairly vulnerable right now. I want the Hawaiian Coast Guard out here.”

“Fine. I’ll alert Pearl Harbor.”

The call was disconnected.

Sam found the commander inspecting the damage on the main deck.

“Rhett, Sidney is missing.”

“Again?”

“Initiate a search. And, I want our ETA to Pearl Harbor. Also, make sure the officers are ready for our morning meeting.”

“Yes, sir.”

“At a gut level, what do you think those pirates were after?”

“The shipment stores of ammo and the explosive devices, of course. What else?”

Sam took a deep breath. “Has it occurred to you that the underground may try to rescue or kill the prisoner?”

“Actually, no. Such a high risk for one person. Even the military wouldn’t do it unless — ”

Sam interrupted. “Unless it was extremely important. Is it possible any one of the pirates could have gotten past the deck, grabbed her, and slipped over the side?”

Moon thought for a moment. “It’s possible. Not likely, but possible.”

“Find her, Rhett.”

Sam contacted Buzz. “How’s the chopper?”

“She’s got a flesh wound, sir, but able to fly.”

“See if you can pick up the scent of the pirate’s escape. Just take note of where they’re heading or anchored and report back.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” replied Buzz. “There’ll be enough sunlight soon that it shouldn’t be a problem to spot them.”

Sam checked his private quarters and his veranda. Cropley and his search team reported back twenty minutes later. There was no sign of her, not even where she’d been found the first time she went missing. They inspected all the places one would seek cover from gunfire, but from the engine room to the upper most deck, there was no trace of Sidney. All they found was a brief trail of blood from the main deck down to the lower inside decks near Sidney’s cell.

19. The Slow Dance

Morning, July 12, En Route to Pearl Harbor, Hawaii

Sam could think of only one way to get answers regarding Sidney’s disappearance — the injured prisoners. He went to the infirmary to meet with Bridges. Stepping into the room, Sam noticed the smell of burned flesh. Dr. Duncan’s medical staff was busy attending to five victims. One had already died and was placed on the floor in a black body bag.

Bridges was trying his best to extract information from an injured prisoner. Sam motioned to him to come into Dr. Duncan’s office.

“What have they told you so far, Lieutenant?”

“Not a thing, sir. They’re not saying who they are or where they’re from. All they do is cuss and threaten. The one I’m talking to now was found hiding in the lower corridors, but he won’t tell me why he was down there.”

“All right. I’ll have a go with him.”

Sam and Bridges returned to the prisoner, who was lying on the examining table in the main room of the infirmary. The nurse attending to the man told Sam the patient had moderately severe burns and several fractures. He’d been given adequate analgesic, but was capable of talking.

“Good morning,” barked Sam to the prisoner. “I’m Captain Waterhouse of the USS
Nonnah
. What’s your name?”

The prisoner ignored Sam.

Sam eased his manner. “Your attack on the
Nonnah
was bold. What is it you were hoping to get?”

“Fuck you!”

Sam smiled. “Sorry, we don’t have any of that on this ship. I really would like to get to the bottom of this before we reach Honolulu. Once we’re there, you’ll be turned over to the base authorities. I doubt you’ll ever be a free man again — unless, of course … ”

The prisoner snarled back, “Of course what?”

“You help me; I’ll help you.”

“Like shit if I’d believe that fucking line.”

“I’m quite serious. On this ship there’s only one authority higher than me. You know who that is?”

“Yeah, the fucking Admiral.”

“No.” Sam pointed to the ceiling. In a reverent whisper, he said, “God. You tell me who ordered this attack and what you were after. That’s all. Think about it for a minute.”

Sam stood back and ignored the prisoner. He surveyed the room, noting the bloody and burned clothes on the floor. They gave no clues as to the pirates’ identity. He noticed the most critically injured seaman was in the intensive care room. Dr. Duncan and three assistants were working on him.

Sam nodded and returned his attention to the prisoner in front of him. He began to ask him if he’d changed his mind when he realized something had been odd in the intensive care room.

The prisoner asked, “Just what kind a deal are we talkin’?”

“A reduced sentence in return for information. That’s the most I can offer you.”

“Yeah? How much reduced? A year or two off eternity ain’t much!”

Sam returned his gaze to the intensive care room.

“Are we talkin’ just a couple of years or more like twenty?”

Sam ignored him and slowly made his way toward the intensive care room.

“Hey, Captain. We’re talkin’ deal here. Where the hell are you going?” The prisoner settled down when three armed guards approached him.

Sam stood in front of the window separating the ICR from the main medical ward. Dr. Duncan was intensely occupied with administering pharmaceuticals to the patient. Lorna and two other assistants administered to the man’s wounds and monitored the scanners. Sam entered the room.

“How’s he doing?,” he asked.

“He needs major surgery,” the doctor answered. “He’ll need to be airlifted to Honolulu.”

“Good morning, Captain,” said one of the assistants.

Sam turned to her and saw what his gut had been trying to tell him. The white lab coat over her blouse and shorts had misled the search party. Her long brown hair was tied back in a French braid, and except for her bare feet, she looked the part of a professional medical assistant.

“Sidney, why are you here?”

Lorna butted in. “Oh, she came here last night when we went on full alert. Kept me company and helped set up for casualties. Didn’t the guard who brought her here let you know?”

“Did you see a guard bring her here, Lorna?”

“Come to think of it, no. But how else would she get here? Figured he’d have told you her whereabouts.”

Sam glared at Sidney. “Well, he didn’t.”

“You’re not going to take her, are you? Got so busy, I really could use an extra pair of hands. Besides, she seems to be able to help with her
Reiki
thing.”

“Lieutenant Paddles!” barked Sam.

Lorna placed a stubborn hand on her hip, but seeing Sam’s anger, she changed her mind about confronting him.

“My apologies, Captain.”

Sam was angry and relieved at the same time. He struck his comlink and connected to Moon.

“Rhett, tell Buzz to cancel the search and return to the ship. Our missing prisoner is in the infirmary, and we’ve got a patient to evacuate.” Sam turned back to Lorna. “Lieutenant Paddles, you’re responsible for her now. You can have her until this prisoner is airlifted out. Then I want you to personally bring her to my office. Any questions?”

“No, sir,” replied Lorna.

“Doctor, will you have time to join us at the breakfast meeting?” Sam asked.

“Yes, just a few minutes though.”

Sam marched out of the room, and Sidney and Lorna grimaced at each other as if to say “Uh oh!”

A few minutes later, Lorna took Sidney aside to gather up more supplies. “You know, I’m almost certain he was more worried than mad that you were gone.”

“No, he was just mad.”

“Well, if you didn’t matter to him, he wouldn’t have got so worked up over it. You matter, girl.”