Tortugas Rising (17 page)

“Steve. Steve.” She patted his face. He breathed heavily but did not wake.

Baxter held up a hand to his Secretary of Defense. “Katherine.”

She turned with hatred in her eyes.

“I’ve done what I can. When he awakes it will be in your best interest – and his – to convince him. I want him as a friend. I do not need him. And you are completely expendable.” Baxter turned to Savage. “Get them a room.”

Savage spoke into his radio and three guards entered the room and removed Steve and Katherine.

Savage leaned against the desk until Baxter snapped. “Where’s the dredge?”

“Dumping now.”

“Is it ready to go?”

“Almost. We had to wait. There’s been some activity on the island. We think it was the hippies.”

“Sink the boat.”

“Not a good idea.” Savage said. “It would be pretty obvious that it was intentional. And who was responsible.”

“We have a right to protect ourselves and our patrons. Besides, in three days the officials will be too busy to even care.”

“What if plans change?”

“Plans won’t change. Will they Mr. Savage?”

Savage straightened and made his way to the door. “Of course not.”

Paul made his way to the bridge. Jefferson was talking to one of his men as they pored over a map of the chain. Notes were scrawled on each island; numbers and notations made some of the smaller cays hard to see.

“We’re missing something.” Jefferson muttered.

“What about Steve?”

Jefferson didn’t even look up. “There’s nothing we can do right now.”

“I’ll admit the FBI isn’t the best with hostage situations. But, you’re the law. You have to do something.”

Jefferson turned his attention from the map. “You can’t even tell us where he is.”

“Find him.”

“How?”

“You’ve got to have a man on the inside.’”

Jefferson was silent.

“You’ve been on this for years. You couldn’t even get a man on the inside?”

Jefferson erupted. He was short and stocky but incredibly quick. Before Paul could move he was pinned against the wall. The agent was inches from his face breathing hot spit onto his cheek.

“I had a man on the inside you little puke! And, he died helping your girlfriend escape. I’ve lost two men here, and I’m not willing to lose anymore for some spoiled rich kid who didn’t have enough sense to know what he was getting into.”

Paul flared and shoved Jefferson off. Jefferson seemed stunned that Paul could muster the strength. “And you wonder why Baxter wants to form his own country?”

Jefferson said nothing.

“Give me my gun back. I’m leaving.”

David nodded. Two agents grabbed Paul from behind.

“You’re going back to your room, Mr. Nelson.”

“Please, Susie. Call me Paul.”

# # #

It was dark out. This, despite the crystal blue water, made it difficult to see the approaching frogmen. There were five of them moving toward the boat. Each carried a satchel draped around his neck. Each satchel carried a charge that would crack the hull of the Rainbow Connection.

# # #

Paul was thrown into his room. He bounced off the wall and rushed back to the door, as it slammed shut. He immediately tried the handle, and found that it opened, but when he pushed on the door, it was shoved back closed from the other side. He looked again at the handle and could see no lock. He assumed that he would stay guarded. He ran to a porthole and pulled it open. His shoulders were too broad for it to be of any use.

He paced the room looking for anything to hit the guard with. There were some books, the mattress, and a pillow. Everything else was bolted down.

He had just finished unlacing his shoe when an explosion echoed throughout the boat. Shrieking metal reverberated throughout the hull. The horrendous noise was followed by several more explosions.

Paul was thrown off his feet and against the wall. The unlatched portal swung open and struck his head. He fell and landed on the mattress. He rolled to the corner of the bed as the ship began to list. He struggled to his feet, lurched across the room, and grabbed for the door.

It was stuck. As the ship rolled, he wasn’t pushing the door open so much as he was pushing it up.

“Hey!” Panic filled his voice as he charged against the door. It would open a fraction, and fall back shut. “Hey! What was that?”

There was no answer. The ship rolled further. Paul placed his feet against the bunk and shoved against the door. It opened further this time. The guard outside was unconscious, collapsed against the door. Blood seeped from his head. Paul held the door open with his shoulder and tapped the agent on the head.

“Wake up! Get up! Get up!”

There was no response; only more bleeding. Paul shoved at the door again, but even extended to his full height, he was short of being able to force the guard off the door.

His feet were wet. Paul turned back to the room. The porthole was still open and the ocean was trying to share the room with him. He let the door slam shut above him, and dropped into the water to close the porthole. It stopped the water from entering, but he judged by the angle of the floor that the ship wasn’t sinking just because he left a window open.

The mattress floated next to him, making it difficult to maneuver. Paul grabbed the gray-striped fabric, and began to roll the thin padding. It wasn’t much, but the rolled bundle would give him an extra foot and a half of leverage.

He placed it on the edge of the bunk, stepped on top, and shoved the door again. The guard had not gotten any lighter, but the added height gave Paul enough room to force the door open far enough for the agent’s body to slide off. He grabbed the doorframe and pulled himself up into the hallway.

The amount of blood was tremendous. It had spilled into the doorframe, and coated his hands as he dragged himself to stand. Paul checked the fallen agent for a pulse, and was almost surprised to find one.

He knew that head wounds bled a lot, but whatever had struck the guard had caused more than a scratch and a nap. Paul grabbed the guard by his collar and tried to lift him. He suddenly regretted shoving Jefferson. Had he not done that, they may have posted a smaller guard.

He strained against the guard’s weight, but managed to lift the unconscious agent onto his shoulder.

The walk was difficult. Odd footing and the guard’s bulk slowed him down. The stairway at the end of the hall stopped him. The staircase was at a twenty-degree angle to where it was supposed to be. Paul couldn’t climb the stairs as they were, or even use the wall as a floor.

“Help!” He shouted beyond the doorway, suddenly worried about everyone else. Was Brittany okay? She was hot and he was concerned about her safety. “Help! Uh, man down, man down!”

He wasn’t sure if it was the timing or his use of the talk of the trade but two agents appeared at the top of the stairwell and reached out for Paul and their fellow agent.

“Get him! I can make it.”

At the sight of a fallen friend, the two agents turned their focus from Paul. They pulled at the injured agent’s arms while Paul did his best to lift the man by his belt.

The fresh strength of the men made it easy work, and Paul soon clambered up the tilted stairs unencumbered.

The commotion on the deck forced Paul to yell.

“Where’s the girl?”

The agent shrugged. “Everyone’s getting on the boats.”

Paul fought for balance as he crossed the deck of the ship with the two agents. The ship’s captain was at the bow, calmly delivering orders. The boats were already in the water. Jefferson stood beside the captain.

“Get me a count!” He spotted the two agents, the unconscious guard and Paul approaching.

“That’s everyone.” The captain said.

Jefferson nodded, and ran to help with the fallen agent.

“Did Nelson do this?”

The agent carrying the guard welcomed the extra hands in carrying his friend, “Not sure.”

“It was the explosion! He almost drowned me blocking the door.” Paul said. “What happened?”

“They’re sinking the Rainbow.” Another explosion rocked the boat and threw the men off their feet.

“There’s no telling how many charges are left. Get to the launch.” Jefferson got back to his feet, forced an orange life vest over the head of the wounded guard, and activated a blinking light.

He chose one of the guards, “You jump with him. Keep his mouth above the water.”

They jumped clear of the rail. It was only a moment before they were pulled from the water into the safety of the launch.

“Into the water, Mr. Nelson.”

“Are you going after them?”

“I need to take care of my men first. We’ve radioed for help. The coast guard will be by…eventually.”

Another blast shook the men from their feet. Paul collided with the burly Homeland Security agent and they collapsed to the ground. Jefferson was on his feet first, and hoisted Paul up by his hemp shirt.

“Into the water.” The shove sent Paul reeling backwards over the rail. He hit the water head first and struggled to surface. He broke free in time to see Jefferson clear the rail and land a good distance from him.

Jefferson surfaced next to the launch, and pulled himself from the water. He looked around at his men in the boat. The girl was in the boat as well. “Did we get everyone? Is everyone okay?”

One of the men answered, “Tony and Rob pulled Gary out. He hit his head pretty bad, but they’re looking at it.”

Jefferson nodded and stretched. The last blast had tweaked his back. Paul crashing into him didn’t help. He reached his hand around to massage a tender spot on his back. That’s when he noticed the missing weapon.

He felt the empty shell of the holster and glanced around the floor of the boat. It wasn’t there. “Has anyone seen my gun?”

The crew began to look about their feet. David stood and looked into the dark water. “Has anyone seen Nelson?”

The crew turned their attention from the boat to the water. Paul didn’t have a vest or a beacon and they strained to see into the darkness.

“Oh, no. Is he okay?” Brittany was shaken from the sinking of the ship.

“Little bastard’s fine.” He hadn’t even felt Paul take the gun off of him. The blast and tackle had taken care of that. Even when he threw him over the side, he had no idea that Paul was holding his .45.

“Find him. He wasn’t wearing a vest.” His team responded with flashlights and a spotlight mounted on the launch. It was still difficult to see.

# # #

Paul kicked toward the stern of the ship. The swim was difficult in the hemp shirt, but the numerous pockets in the cargo pants made it easy to carry Jefferson’s gun.

The stern of the Rainbow Connection was all but resting on the bottom. When it finally did settle, the superstructure on the deck would be only a couple of feet underwater. He swam close to the ship for cover. If there was another charge it would be the end of him.

As he swam he peered into the water looking for whoever had caused the blasts. He had no doubt that they were a safe distance away when they went off, but he didn’t like the thought of an invisible hand pulling him underwater to drown.

The deck was even with the surface of the water and Paul pulled himself back onto the ship. He ran as if every step had another explosion under it waiting to go off. Fires lit the way as he looked for a lifeboat, a dinghy, anything that would float. Then he spotted it. A rubber-hulled Zodiac floated just above the deck, fighting taught mooring lines to stay afloat.

Paul waded forward to free it. The lines were almost too tight to untie. But, after struggling for a few moments, the lines loosened and Paul pulled himself into the boat.

The engine started instantly. He pulled the .45 from the cargo pants and turned the boat to Master Key.

# # #

Jefferson heard the motor and pointed the spotlight in the direction of the sound. Paul waved, just before the Zodiac moved beyond the range of the light.

The pilot dropped the throttle and began to turn the boat to pursue Paul.

“Stop.” Jefferson dropped back into his seat.

“Don’t you want to go after him?”

“Unless you want us all to paddle, we’re not going to catch him with this full boat. Rendezvous with the others. And someone give me a gun!”