Hector saw Paddy trying to fight his way to Nastiya in the confusion, but a dozen men intervened and Paddy had to turn on them to protect himself. On the far side of the scrimmage Kamal had grabbed the end of the rope around Nastiya's neck and was hauling her away backwards, at the same time calling desperately to Adam in Arabic.
'This way, my Sheikh. Follow me. The helicopter and the boats have deserted us. Follow me!' One of Paddy's men grabbed a fold of Adam's flowing headcloth as he passed, but the Sheikh turned on him with his curved dagger and stabbed him in the eye. The man dropped with the cloth twisted around his fingers and Adam ran after Kamal and Nastiya bare-headed.
Hector was too high above the cargo deck to be able to intervene actively. He tried to work out what Kamal would do next, then saw him run to the hatch in the corner of the stern tower. Kamal knew very well that this was the access to the service tunnels between the natural gas tanks which housed the huge pumps that circulated the gas in the tanks. Only a few days previously they had watched on the CCTV in the situation room as Kamal explored this dank and twisting labyrinth in the bowels of the hull. Kamal must have decided to use this as his bolthole. He dragged Nastiya struggling on the end of the rope into the hatchway and Adam followed them, shoving Nastiya down the ladder after Kamal. He slammed and bolted the steel hatch behind them.
'Paddy!' Hector called him on the battle radio and saw him look up at the bridge. 'Kamal and Adam have taken Nastiya down into the pump service tunnel. Kamal has a rifle, but Adam has only a dagger. Put a guard on both ends of the service tunnel. There is no way out for Kamal and Adam. They're trapped down there. We can winkle them out later. But first you must launch Sam's AAVs and send them ashore to take the town and release the captured seamen from the stockades. I am handing over command of the Golden Goose Golden Goose to you. I'm going ashore to deal with Uthmann.' As he spoke Hector was stripping off his heavy body armour and all the other equipment that would weigh him down in the water. He kept only his knife, his radio and the Beretta 9mm pistol that were all attached to his webbing harness. He looked around to find Jacko MacDuff at his shoulder. to you. I'm going ashore to deal with Uthmann.' As he spoke Hector was stripping off his heavy body armour and all the other equipment that would weigh him down in the water. He kept only his knife, his radio and the Beretta 9mm pistol that were all attached to his webbing harness. He looked around to find Jacko MacDuff at his shoulder.
'I'm going ashore, Jacko. Take command of the stick. Our work up here is done. Go down and put yourself and the men under Paddy O'Quinn's command on the cargo deck. Good luck, Jacko,' said Hector. While they were speaking he was working out his next move. Most of the attack boats had made a run for the shore in an attempt to escape the fire of Dave Imbiss's Bushmasters. However, there were a few more crafty pirates who were using the Golden Goose Golden Goose's own hull as a shield. They were hugging the sides of the ship so closely that the cannon set high up in the stern tower were unable to bring them under fire. At this moment one of these attack boats was hiding directly under where Hector was standing on the wing of the bridge. Although there was a fearsome drop from the bridge to the water, Hector did not hesitate. He backed up as far as the navigation console in the centre of the bridge. Bingo MacDuff had just released Cyril Stamford and he stood beside the console. Cyril understood at once what Hector was about to attempt, and his voice was gruff with respect.
'You have got a fine pair of balls, Mr Cross.'
'Look who's talking!' Hector smiled grimly at Cyril, and then started his run.
When he reached the rail at the wing of the bridge he was moving at the top of his speed. He dived as far out as all his strength and momentum could carry him. From this height he could not risk a head-first dive. If he turned over in the air and landed on his back his spine would snap like a pretzel. Instead, as soon as he was airborne he rolled himself into a ball, his knees tucked up against his chest, his head bowed and fingers of both hands locked together at the back of his neck. His guts swooped up under his ribs as he fell, and then he hit the surface of the water. The impact drove the air from his lungs and numbed his buttocks, which had struck first. He went under with the impetus of a cannonball. From deep down he looked up and saw above him the wavering silhouette of the longboat against the light. Fighting the urge to breathe he swam up towards it. He propelled himself upwards the last few feet and burst out alongside the low hull of the attack boat. He hooked his fingers over the gunwale and heaved himself over the side, at the same time drawing a mighty breath of sweet air.
There were two pirates in the boat. They were naked except for their grubby loin cloths and turbans. They stared at Hector in astonishment. One of them jumped to his feet with an assault rifle in his hands. Before he could raise the weapon Hector crashed into him with his shoulder and sent him hurtling over the side into the sea. Hector felt a fleeting regret that he had taken his rifle with him. The other man was squatting at the controls of the silver-and-red 200 horsepower outboard motor in the stern. He began to rise to his feet, but not fast enough. Hector jumped over the thwart and took two more flying paces towards him, then kicked him under his raised chin as though he were punting a football. The man's head snapped back and he sprawled over the cover of the huge outboard motor, then slipped down into the bottom of the longboat and flopped about in the bilges as helplessly as a stranded fish. Hector stooped over him, grabbed him by the heels and flipped him over the side. The pirate wallowed face-down in the water. Hector turned back to the outboard motor. It was still running, the exhaust burbling under the stern. He engaged the gear shift and twisted the throttle grip. The boat surged forward.
However, at that moment a human body plunged down the tall side of the tanker and splashed into the water just in front of the longboat's bows. Hector recognized the jumper as he flashed past. He closed the throttle and kicked the gear shift back into neutral, then ran forward and peered over the bows into the turbid water where the body had struck. He saw the man swimming up from the depths and then his head broke the surface. He was gasping for air.
'Tariq! You bloody fool, I could easily have chopped you to mincemeat in the prop.' He reached over the side and caught hold of Tariq's arm and hauled him on board. Then he ran back to the big outboard motor in the stern and twisted the throttle grip wide open. Under him the boat bounded forward and he lined it up with the wreck of the helicopter that was still wallowing on the edge of the beach. He looked back over the stern at the Golden Goose Golden Goose and with alarm saw the barrels of the two Bushmaster cannon swivelling towards them and beginning to range and track them. and with alarm saw the barrels of the two Bushmaster cannon swivelling towards them and beginning to range and track them.
He shouted at Tariq over the roar of the motor, 'Quickly! Stand up and give Dave Imbiss a wave. He's about to make a little mistake and blow us out of the water.' Tariq jumped to his feet and balanced in the dancing longboat as he waved both hands above his head. At once the cannon barrels lifted off them, and they saw Dave's head appear from behind the starboard cannon. He waved his helmet in the air in a gesture of apology. Then he disappeared back behind the blast shield and the cannon traversed right and resumed fire on some of the other attack boats which were scattering across the waters of the bay. Tariq crawled back along the bouncing and plunging longboat to Hector in the stern.
'What's going on, Hector? While I was still in the tunnel I heard you tell Dave to fire at a helicopter. You said that Uthmann was in it. But by the time I reached the cargo deck with Paddy I couldn't see any helicopter. I was mixed up in the fighting. Then I heard you warn Paddy on the radio that Kamal and Adam had escaped down into the pump service tunnel. By that time the other pirates had been subdued. There was no reason for me to stay, especially when I saw you jump off the wing of the bridge. Of course, I had to follow you.' Tariq looked anxious. 'Did I do the right thing, Hector?'
'Completely the right thing, as always, Tariq,' Hector replied in Arabic, and Tariq lapsed into the same language.
'Thank you, Hector. But where is Uthmann now? What happened to the helicopter? Where are we going?'
'Dave gunned the helicopter down, and it crashed on the edge of the shore.' He pointed ahead. 'There, you can see the wreckage floating in the surf.'
'But Uthmann? What has happened to him?'
'He escaped from the wreck. I saw him wading ashore. I jumped from the bridge to go after him.'
'I am glad I followed you. I want him even more than you do,' Tariq said softly.
'I know.' Hector nodded. 'He belongs to you. We will hunt him down together, but you will be the one to take vengeance.'
'Thank you, Hector.' Tariq drew a long breath to steady himself. 'Is he alone? Is he armed? Neither of us has a rifle.'
'Yes, Uthmann is alone. He had a rifle when he took off from the cargo deck, but after the helicopter crashed I saw him wade ashore. Too far off to be certain, but I don't think he was still carrying it. He probably panicked when he hit the water, and forgot all about his weapon. His only thought would have been to get to dry land. We will make a quick search of the helicopter cabin, if it's still afloat when we get there.'
They were tearing across the bay at fifty miles an hour, leaving a long straight creaming wake behind them as they headed for the wrecked machine. The sprawl of shanties which made up the town was half a mile further down the bay shore. Hector stood up and studied the terrain beyond the wreck into which Uthmann had escaped. It was devoid of any habitation, with rolling sand dunes covered in dense thickets of coarse salt scrub.
'Not a good place to track a wounded lion,' he decided. Uthmann was as dangerous as any wild animal. Hector slowed the longboat as they came up to the floating helicopter. The bows bumped against the wreckage. The air was heavy with the smell of spilt aviation fuel. Tariq scrambled up onto the battered fuselage and knelt to peer into the open doorway.
'There it is!' he called and disappeared through the door. He emerged again only seconds later brandishing a Beretta assault rifle.
'Ammunition?' Hector demanded.
'None,' Tariq answered, 'only what is in the magazine.'
'Maybe twenty rounds, if we're lucky. That should do.'
Hector put the outboard motor into gear and moved in slowly towards the beach. They both saw the string of footprints that Uthmann had left in the yellow sand. They ran from the edge of the water up the slope of the first dune and disappeared into the saltbush thicket on the crest. They wasted no time trying to moor the boat. Hector cut the motor, but let the boat drift. They jumped down into the knee-deep water and Hector led Tariq at a run to the foot of the first dune. Here they paused briefly to examine the spoor and then check the weapons they carried.
'Here, take this!' said Tariq, proffering the Beretta. 'You are a better rifle shot than I am. Let me have your pistol.' They exchanged weapons. Both rifle and pistol were soaked with saltwater. They shook it out of the magazines as best they could and made sure the barrels were free of sand or any other obstruction.
'That's the best we can do. They are designed to work in all the most extreme conditions,' Hector grunted. 'You lead, Tariq. Tracking is your job. I will be on your left side.' They climbed to the top of the first dune, where they found the spot where Uthmann had lain amongst the bushes. Tariq knelt beside the indentation his body had left. The loose dry sand was still trickling down into it. He must have watched them land on the beach, before he moved on. Something else caught Hector's eye: a pair of sandals lying under the nearest clump of scrub. They were still soaking wet, and the strap on one of them had snapped at the buckle. Uthman must have discarded them and gone on barefoot. The tracks he had left confirmed this.
'He is not very far ahead,' Tariq whispered. 'He is probably watching us again right now.'
'Go carefully. He might have lost his rifle, but he always has his blade,' Hector warned. For a brief moment they both thought of their four companions whose corpses they had left at the Oasis of the Miracle. Then they put from their minds everything but the job in hand. They went forward in overlapping formation so that each of them was able to cover the one flank as well as the immediate front. They could not afford to let their hatred override their respect for Uthmann as a fighter. They dared not let him get in close enough to use his blade.
The bush was dense, the hooked thorns tenacious. They had to move with the greatest care so as to make as little noise as possible. It took them six minutes ten seconds by Hector's wristwatch to cover the first hundred yards. There they came upon Uthmann's next lie-over, where he had waited for them to come up to him. If they had shown the slightest carelessness or given him any advantage at this stage they knew that this was where he would have taken them. But he had moved off again just ahead of them. The barefoot tracks he had left in the sand where he had squatted to wait for them were still settling.
Now he knows we aren't going to blunder in on top of him, Hector thought grimly. His next trick will be to circle and try to get behind us. His next trick will be to circle and try to get behind us. He snapped his fingers softly and Tariq shot a quick glance at him. He made a circling motion to warn him. Tariq nodded; he understood the danger. They went on. Twice more they pushed Uthmann off his lie-over. Each time he moved away silently just ahead of them. He snapped his fingers softly and Tariq shot a quick glance at him. He made a circling motion to warn him. Tariq nodded; he understood the danger. They went on. Twice more they pushed Uthmann off his lie-over. Each time he moved away silently just ahead of them.
By now he will be thinking he has lulled us with repetition. This is when he will circle back on us. Hector changed his own tactics in anticipation. After every twenty slow paces he stopped and revolved slowly, studying the ground that he had already traversed from a fresh angle. Then he squatted on his haunches and studied the same ground behind them from a lower perspective, concentrating on the bases of the trees where the roots were bunched and twisted, behind which a man could lie with a thin sharp blade in his hand. Hector changed his own tactics in anticipation. After every twenty slow paces he stopped and revolved slowly, studying the ground that he had already traversed from a fresh angle. Then he squatted on his haunches and studied the same ground behind them from a lower perspective, concentrating on the bases of the trees where the roots were bunched and twisted, behind which a man could lie with a thin sharp blade in his hand.
Suddenly Hector blinked as something alien caught his eye. He stared at it with all his concentration. It moved slightly and the whole picture jumped into focus. He was looking at a naked human foot that protruded from behind a bunch of the twisted roots. The sole of the foot was dusty pink, and the skin above it was tobacco brown. Hector felt the hair rise on the back of his neck. By God, Uthmann was close! He had almost walked on top of him.
He was lying not more than five long strides from where Hector was. Hector knew he could cover that distance with the speed of a hunting cheetah. He could almost feel Uthmann's eyes on him, watching him through one of the tiny chinks in the dense vegetation of the saltbush. Uthmann had a trick of keeping his eyes carefully slitted when he watched an enemy, his dark lashes veiling the tell-tale shine of the whites of his eyes. Hector saw the tendons in Uthmann's left foot standing out proud as he dug in his toes for purchase in the soft earth, prior to launching himself at Hector.
Hector was squatting on his haunches. The rifle was across his lap. There was a bullet in the breach, and the safety was off. His right hand was on the pistol grip, but he knew he could not get the rifle butt to his shoulder before Uthmann covered the gap and was on him. If that happened the rifle would be an encumbrance. He had to shoot out of hand, and he had to do it quickly. Uthmann's foot was all he had to aim at, and he had to fire without lifting the weapon from his lap. He could not aim the shot. He had to let his instinct take over completely. This was payback time for all those hundreds of hours spent on the firing range, he told himself. He made a slight movement as though he was about to rise upright, but the barrel of the rifle dropped slightly and swung through a narrow arc onto the target, and he fired as a reflex action. He saw the heel of Uthmann's bare foot ripped off in a burst of bone chips, flying tissue and blood.
Uthmann grunted as savagely as a gut-shot lion and he reared up from behind the saltbush. But the crippled foot pinned him to the spot. The pain forced him down on one knee. Hector saw the blade in his right hand, and the despair in his eyes. Uthmann knew he had lost, but he kept trying. He came up again on one leg, and tried to hop close enough to Hector to use the blade. But by now Hector was on his feet and charging in on him. He swung the rifle butt at Uthmann's elbow. It landed solidly and he felt the joint shatter. This time Uthmann screamed, and the blade spun out of his nerveless fingers. The crippled foot gave way and he sprawled in the loose sand. Tariq darted in behind him and seized the wrist of Uthmann's damaged arm. He wrenched it over and the broken bones grated upon each other. Tariq put his boot on the back of Uthmann's neck and forced his face into the sand. It filled his eyes and mouth and nose. He began to suffocate.
'Wait!' Hector ordered Tariq.
'You told me that vengeance was mine,' Tariq protested. He was sobbing wildly with the strength of his hatred.
'This is too good for him, Tariq.' Hector pulled him back. 'This is too quick. This creature burned your wife and your son. He murdered our comrades. He betrayed us to the Beast. He must pay for these sins in full measure.' Tariq shook his head and lifted the pistol, shoving the muzzle into the back of Uthmann's head.
'There is no fitting punishment. Anything we can do to him will not be enough.' He ground the muzzle of the loaded pistol into his scalp, but although Uthmann's face contorted with agony he refused to cry out.
'It was you who set fire to my home,' Tariq panted at him, 'you who burned Daliyah and my son! Deny it if you can, Uthmann Waddah.' Uthmann tried to smile but it was a painful travesty, and his voice was pain-racked. He spat the sand out of his mouth, 'They reeked like burning pork as they cooked,' he whispered, 'but I revelled in the stink of them.' Tariq sobbed and looked at Hector with the tears oozing down his cheeks.
'You heard him! What is there we can do to match such evil?'
'Water,' Hector replied quietly. 'Only seawater will wash away this stain from the face of the earth.' They saw the terror flare in Uthmann's eyes, and Tariq rejoiced.
'Of course, you are right, Hector. Seawater will do it. Up, Uthmann Waddah! Get on your feet. Your last walk will be down the beach and into the sea.' Tariq lowered the pistol and grabbed his wrist. He twisted it viciously against the shattered elbow joint. Uthmann shrieked again. His fierce defiance and his reckless courage were eroded by the threat of the one thing he feared above all else.
'I challenge you to do it here, if you have the stomach for it, Tariq. Shoot me and make an end to it, you gutless coward!'
'You are too hasty,' Tariq told him. 'This is the final act of your foul existence. You must savour every last moment of it. The taste of saltwater in the back of your throat, the burn of it in your lungs as they fill, the sting of it in your eyes as your vision fades.' He hauled on the broken arm and Uthmann could not resist the pressure. He allowed himself to be hoisted upright and tried to balance on his one good leg, but Hector seized his other arm and between the two of them they dragged him back to the beach. At last they looked down upon the bay from the crest of the final dune.
The Golden Goose Golden Goose lay at anchor where they had last seen her, but most of the surviving pirate longboats were abandoned along the shoreline like flotsam left behind the storm. The cannon on the lay at anchor where they had last seen her, but most of the surviving pirate longboats were abandoned along the shoreline like flotsam left behind the storm. The cannon on the Golden Goose Golden Goose were firing intermittently at targets that were out of sight to them from where they stood, and there was the distant rattle of automatic fire from the precincts of the town. A few of the buildings were on fire and the smoke drifted out over the bay. Just below them the longboat that they had abandoned was nudging the beach. were firing intermittently at targets that were out of sight to them from where they stood, and there was the distant rattle of automatic fire from the precincts of the town. A few of the buildings were on fire and the smoke drifted out over the bay. Just below them the longboat that they had abandoned was nudging the beach.
'Come on, Uthmann.' Tariq twisted his arm viciously. 'Not much further to go.' Uthmann fell to his knees, and now his terror had taken control of him completely. He was blubbering and gibbering barely coherently.
'No, Tariq! Shoot me here. Get it over with. There is something I want to tell you. I threw your brat into the flames first. Then I fucked your wife. I thought of you with every thrust I gave her. When I had finished I threw her on top of her bastard. Her long hair burned like a torch. Now you must shoot me. If you don't it will be a memory that will follow you all your days.' His voice rose in a despairing wail. Hector grabbed his other arm and the two of them dragged him on his belly, wailing and squealing down the dune and into the sea. When the water was knee-deep Hector rolled him face-down and lifted his ankles together behind him. Tariq straddled his shoulder and with his full weight forced his face below the surface. Uthmann was trying to hold his breath below the surface and at the same time give full voice to his terror. His movements grew wilder and less coordinated and then began to grow weaker. His mouth opened under the surface and a gust of silver bubbles broke past his lips. He was coughing and gasping and vomiting, the sounds muffled by the water over his head. When it seemed it was almost over, Hector dragged him out by his heels and laid him face-down on the wet sand. Tariq bounced on his back. Seawater and vomit gushed up out of his throat and he managed to draw a few short breaths before his whole body convulsed in another paroxysm of coughing. He vomited again and half of the yellow bile was sucked back into his lungs with his next breath. Slowly, very slowly, Uthmann managed to clear his lungs of water and vomit, but he was too exhausted to sit up or speak. Hector and Tariq squatted on each side of him and watched him struggle for his life.
'You heard him boast about what he did to Daliyah and my boy?' Tariq whispered.
'I heard.'
'There must be something we can do to match such hideous evil. A simple drowning is far too merciful.'
'There is something,' said Hector, nodding. 'There is an anchor rope in the longboat. Tie one end of it to that ringbolt in the transom and bring the other end here.' It seemed that Tariq was about to ask a question but without voicing it he jumped up and ran to the longboat. He came back uncoiling the rope on the wet sand. Uthmann tried to sit up as Tariq stood over him, but Tariq kicked him over on his back and looked at Hector.
'Tie his wrists together,' Hector ordered, and Uthmann began to struggle and scream again. Tariq twisted his broken arm to subdue him while Hector slipped a loop of the rope over his wrists and tightened it until the hemp cut into his flesh.
'Do you know what you are now, Uthmann Waddah?' Hector asked quietly, and immediately answered his own question. 'You are live bait.'
'I don't understand,' Tariq admitted, and Hector went on to explain, 'All those captured boats have been lying at anchor for months out there in the bay. The men living on board have been throwing all their rubbish and sewage overboard. That attracts sharks, plenty of big sharks, tiger sharks mostly, for they are the scavengers, but others also - bronze whalers, Zambezi sharks and blacktips.' Tariq smiled and horror dawned in Uthmann's dark eyes.
'You are bleeding quite heavily, Uthmann.' Hector kicked his wounded foot, and Uthmann moaned. 'Did you know that sharks are attracted by blood? Let's go fishing!' They pushed the stranded longboat off the sand while Uthmann struggled weakly on the end of the anchor rope. Every time he managed to get up on his knees Tariq jerked his end of the rope and sent him sprawling again. As soon as the longboat was afloat Hector jumped on board and started the motor. He turned the bows away from the beach and opened the throttle gradually. Uthmann was pulled flat and dragged across the wet sand, screaming with pain and fear.
Tariq splashed out to the longboat and scrambled over the gunwale. He and Hector stared over the stern as Uthmann was hauled bodily into the low surf. The rope dragged him under the surface, but he came out in a flurry of water like a breaching whale, and then rolled under again. The pressure of seawater shot up his nose and down his throat. He managed to cough a little of it out of his mouth before he went under again, but now the rush of water into his right ear ruptured the eardrum. The agony must have been blinding, but he no longer had the breath to scream. The wake he left along the surface was tinted with blood and as the longboat entered the deepwater channel the first shark finned up in the blood slick. Hector saw the stripes across its broad back.
'Uthmann, there is a tiger shark coming up behind you,' he shouted. 'Not a very big one - a little less than three metres long. But big enough to bite a nice chunk out of you.'
The shark did not rush in at once, but it followed Uthmann cautiously until another larger shark rose out of the green waters. The one goaded the other and together they charged in. The larger shark opened its jaws in a cavernous gape and then bit down into Uthmann's shattered ankle. He screamed as he realized what was happening to him. The sharks dragged him under and Hector cut the outboard motor and drifted softly on the tide. He didn't want Uthmann to drown before the sharks were finished with him. It didn't take very long. Each time Uthmann came to the surface his struggles were weaker and his screams feebler. The water around him darkened with his blood. Tatters of his own flesh floated around him. Then he went under once more but he did not surface again. When Tariq hauled in the rope Uthmann's two disembodied hands were still fastened in the end noose. He tossed them back over the side. He went to squat beside Hector as he turned the longboat sharply and roared back across the bay towards the Golden Goose Golden Goose. They were both silent for a while then Hector raised his voice above the din of the engine.
'I could not ask before but tell me now, what was your son's name?'
'His name was Tabari.'
'We did what we had to do. But it doesn't help much, does it?' Hector mused. 'Vengeance is a tasteless dish.' Tariq nodded and turned his face away. He did not want even Hector to see too deeply into his soul where the ghosts of Daliyah and Tabari would live on for ever.
As they raced back under the towering hull of the Golden Goose Golden Goose Hector stood in the stern of the longboat balancing with a twist of the anchor rope around his wrist. He was figuring out the run of events that had taken place while he and Tariq had been engaged in the chase of Uthmann. He saw that the formation of three AAVs under Sam Hunter was approaching the beach in front of the town. He felt a quick flare of anger. By now they should have reached the prison stockade beyond town and freed the prisoners. He barked into the microphone of his battle radio, his tone reflecting his anger. Hector stood in the stern of the longboat balancing with a twist of the anchor rope around his wrist. He was figuring out the run of events that had taken place while he and Tariq had been engaged in the chase of Uthmann. He saw that the formation of three AAVs under Sam Hunter was approaching the beach in front of the town. He felt a quick flare of anger. By now they should have reached the prison stockade beyond town and freed the prisoners. He barked into the microphone of his battle radio, his tone reflecting his anger.
'Sam, what the bloody hell are you playing at? You are almost an hour behind schedule.'
'One of the hoists sustained damage from heavy machine-gun fire from the beach. It took time to get it working again. Sorry, Hector.'
'Okay, so now let's get our fingers out of our butts.' Hector broke the connection, and watched the AAVs. The water was breaking over their bows as they rode the shore chop. Small-arms fire from the shanties above the beach was thrashing the sea around them. However the hatches in the turrets were locked down, and the 50 calibre heavy machine guns were hosing tracer into the village. Shells from Dave Imbiss's Bushmasters were joining in the bombardment, bursting in the air above the rickety buildings. Some of the corrugated-iron roofs collapsed under the weight of shot and the surviving pirates scrambled out of the wreckage and fled back towards the hills. The gale of shrapnel burst overhead and most of them were knocked down.
As Hector watched all three AAVs reached the beach together and rolled ashore with their steel tracks churning up the sand, and hurtling them up the slope and into the village. The winding streets were too narrow for the huge armoured machines and they drove straight through the flimsy shacks without a check, flattening them and then disappearing from view as they raced for the stockades in which the captured seamen were imprisoned.
When Hector and Tariq arrived at the Goose Goose's side in the longboat the hoists that had launched the AAVs were still hanging at water level. They abandoned the boat and jumped across to the hoist cradle. Hector called the hoist operator on the Falcon radio. He lifted them to the cargo deck where Paddy was waiting to meet them. He was looking agitated.
'Fill me in with what has been happening, Paddy,' Hector ordered him.
'We have accounted for every one of Kamal's pirates that he brought on board. Eight of them are dead, including the four you took down on the bridge.' He paused and drew a sharp breath. 'As you know Adam and Kamal are holed up in the pump service tunnel. They have taken Nastiya in there with them. Hazel is tracking their movements on the infrared sensors.' Hector pressed the transmit button on his battle radio.
'Hazel, where are they now?'
'Hector, they are in the Number Two section, just beyond the main egress flow pipe intersection. They have not moved for the last twelve minutes.' Hector frowned. The service tunnel was the most difficult section of the ship to work in. Confined and claustrophobic, most of the space was taken up with banks of steel piping as well as the huge gas pumps. The noise of the pumps was deafening, and there was little ventilation. Down there a defender would have a clear advantage over an attacker who was trying to rout him out. They were all looking at Hector for orders; even Paddy seemed devoid of any suggestions as to how they should proceed. Hector was trying to visualize the layout of the area.
'Right!' He made his decision at last. 'There are only two entrances to the system and Paddy has got them both guarded, right?' Paddy nodded. 'Okay, so we'll work the tunnel from both ends simultaneously in two teams and try to catch Kamal and Adam between them. There is nearly a mile of tunnel down there. It will be a hell of a job to drive them out, unless ...' Hector paused to think for a moment. 'Unless ...' he repeated.
'Unless what?' Paddy demanded anxiously, but Hector did not answer directly.
'Come with me, quickly. We must waste no time,' Hector ordered, and two at a time he bounded up the stairs of the companionway that led up to the bridge. Paddy raced up behind him. Cyril Stamford was waiting for them on the bridge.
'Top of the morning to you, Captain,' Hector greeted him. 'Have you got your ship fully under your command again?'
'That I have.' Cyril's grin was lopsided. His face was still swollen and decorated with purple and green bruises where Kamal had used the rifle butt on him. 'Engines are running and we are shortened up on one anchor chain, ready to sail at your word.'
'A few chores to take care of first, Cyril. Please run Paddy and me through the firefighting procedures in the pump service tunnel.'
'I had a strange premonition you were going to ask me that, when I heard that was where Kamal had bolted with his boss and the charming Russian lady,' Cyril answered. 'Come to the chart room.'
The chart room was at the back of the bridge. Hector knew that the plans of the Golden Goose Golden Goose's hull were stored flat in the wide drawers below the chart table. However, as soon as he entered the cabin Hector saw that Cyril had already spread out the drawings of the lower deck on the table. Hector and Paddy pored over them, while Cyril explained the layout of the eight compartments that made up the pump service tunnel.
'Each compartment can be sealed off with watertight and airtight doors, correct?' Hector knew the answer, but he asked for Paddy's benefit. 'You can also close off the electrical circuit, and shut down any lighting and ventilation in the tunnel?'
'Correct,' Cyril confirmed.
'And you can operate the doors from the bridge?'
In reply Cyril pointed through the open door. 'That's the control panel on the starboard bulkhead. Above the navigation console,' he stated.
'Can you also control the flow of CO gas from here?' gas from here?'
'Affirmative!' Cyril nodded again. 'I can flood one compartment at a time, or all of them together.'
'CO gas?' Paddy demanded. 'What the hell?' gas?' Paddy demanded. 'What the hell?'
'Fire control. It will snuff out the flames,' Hector answered brusquely, 'but it's also poisonous to humans.' He turned back to Cyril. 'Where do you keep the firefighting equipment?'
'On level one. We have fireproof suits-'
'We won't need those.' Hector cut him off. 'What about oxygen sets?'
'Yep! We have Draeger closed-circuit rebreathers. Four hours' life support in a toxic environment.'
'What about night-vision goggles?' Hector persisted.
'They are standard with the Draegers. They give you vision in total darkness or smoke.'
'How many suits do you have on board?'