Dark Watch

20

THE thought popped unbidden into Cabrillo’s mind. Of all the engine rooms in all the ships in the world she had to walk into mine.

The unseen gunman pulled the weapon from the back of his head at the same time Juan shut off both his computer and flashlight. “Are you wearing night vision?” he whispered into the gunman’s ear.

“Yes,” came the near silent reply.

“Lead on.” He took the gunman’s hand. It was slim and delicate despite the leather gloves.

The lights carried by the approaching men gave just enough glow for Juan to avoid jamming a knee or bumping his head amid the forest of pipes, but he couldn’t see enough to know if they were headed in the right direction. He would just have to trust someone who a moment earlier had a pistol to his skull.

He had been aboard the ship for nearly forty minutes, so he figured his presence hadn’t been detected, meaning it was his companion who had drawn the guards. The smart thing for him was to separate, make his way to the side of the vessel, and swim back to the Oregon. However, that left too many unanswered questions. For the time being they were in this together.

They reached a hatchway that led to the steering gear room. As soon as they crossed the threshold and made a sharp turn down a utility corridor, Juan could no longer hear their pursuers.

“So who are you?” he asked as they silently padded toward the bow. “MI-6?” That was the British equivalent to the CIA. His question was met with silence. “Royal Navy?”

“No,” replied Victoria Ballinger. “I’m a field investigator for Lloyd’s of London, fraud division.”

If Lloyd’s was taking insurance hits because of the Sea of Japan pirates, it made sense they would send someone out to investigate, which explained her presence on the ill-fated Avalon. Most likely there had been an entire team on board to repulse the pirates and get their own answers about who was behind the attacks. Unfortunately, they had vastly underestimated the pirates’ sophistication, and as a result Tory had been the sole survivor.

“How about you?” she asked. “Are you still claiming to be a tramp freighter captain with fish-finding gear, a couple of scuba tanks, and a knack for being at the right place at the right time?”

“We’ll talk about that as soon as we’re out of here.” Cabrillo’s tone was clipped. He wasn’t happy about her presence or the larger implications of what he’d discovered moments before her arrival. There was time for recriminations later. First he had to get them back to the Oregon.

He chanced turning on his flashlight but dialed down the beam so it was as dim as a guttering candle. Tory stripped her night vision goggles from her head and stuffed them in a shoulder bag. She had to resettle her mass of black hair under her watch cap. Juan gave her a look to catch her eyes. They were blue, steady and resolved, without a trace of fear. He had no idea what kind of training she had received during her career, but the way she’d handled her ordeal on the sunken Avalon and her current composure told him she was ready for anything.

The corridor ended in a ladder that rose to an overhead hatch. “So, Captain, I assume you have a plan?”

“My original plan didn’t include finding you and the goons who obviously followed you. I want to get past these guys without a firefight, then I’ve got a Draeger rebreather stashed out in the shed. Do you know how to dive?” Tory nodded sharply. “Then we’ll swim back to my ship.”

“I’m not leaving here until I know what vessel this is.”

Cabrillo caught the stubborn lift of her chin and knew she meant it. “We’re on a ship that shouldn’t be here called the Toya Maru. She was snatched while the pirates were attacking the Avalon. That big ship you remembered seeing was a floating drydock called the Maus. They concealed the Toya Maru inside her and towed her here. All the while under near constant surveillance by my people, I might add.”

“So why shouldn’t she be here?”

“Because the Maus is still a couple days out.”

A look of confusion swept across her beautiful face. “I don’t understand.”

Juan was growing frustrated. They had to get out of there, and Tory wanted to play twenty questions. But the truth was he was more angry at himself than her. Like everyone involved, he, too, had failed to anticipate the pirates’ cu

He touched her sleeve. “I’ll tell you everything, but later. We have to get going.”

Without waiting for a reply, Cabrillo tucked his pistol into his holster and climbed the ladder. The hatch wheel gave a chirp of protest as he broke the seal, then spun freely. He eased the cover up, got his gun in position, and ducked his head through to the next level. It was pitch-black and silent. He pulled his body through and waited for Tory. Once she was at his side, he risked using his light again.

He recognized the space as the main ballast control room. From here the crew could use a system of pumps to transfer their load from tank to tank in order to maintain trim. He briefly considered finding the sea suction inlet, a breach in the hull where seawater could be pumped into the ship for ballast, but it would take too long to find and open an inspection hatch. Plus there would be heavy mesh to prevent the pumps fouling on a large fish or kelp when it drew in the water.

Now that he had his bearings, he turned on his minicomputer and called up a set of the Toyo Maru’s blueprints. On the tiny screen the schematics were tough to make out, so it took him a few minutes to trace their escape route.

“Got it,” he said at last. “Okay, stay close and stay behind me.”

“Chivalry, Captain?”

“Practicality. I’m wearing body armor, and unless you dropped twenty pounds in two weeks, I know you’re not.”

She shot him a cheeky smirk. “Touché and lead on.”

Cabrillo checked the corridor outside the ballast control room and edged out. With no light to amplify, Tory’s goggles were useless, forcing him to rely on his flashlight and trust the guards would give themselves away before they saw it.

At the end of the hall they came to a set of steep stairs. Juan was halfway up when he heard voices and saw light from above. Without turning he stepped back again, feeling Tory right behind him. From the bottom of the stairs he caught a glimpse of two men armed with assault rifles passing by. He and Tory waited a full three minutes after the voices faded before making the climb again.

They had reached the level just below the main deck. Once they reached the outside, Juan pla