'Two only.'
'Shit!' said Hector. 'So it's just you and me, Paddy.'
'I'm not sure what you have in mind, Heck. But hell's bells, I can do this on my own, standing on my head.'
'We all know that you have a powerful Russian motivation, but we do this together, Paddy.' Hector did not wait for the argument. 'Okay, Cyril, this is how it'll work. I'll go into the tunnel through the forward hatch. Paddy will go in at the stern hatch. He will hold his position as soon as he reaches the lowest deck. I will work my way back along the tunnel. You will flood each compartment with CO as I come to it. Then you will close the watertight doors as I pass through them. Hazel will monitor the state of play from the situation room. She will keep us advised of the exact position of the fugitives and their hostage at all times.' as I come to it. Then you will close the watertight doors as I pass through them. Hazel will monitor the state of play from the situation room. She will keep us advised of the exact position of the fugitives and their hostage at all times.'
'I am so pleased that you remembered the existence of Nastiya. You are all heart,' said Paddy sarcastically. 'She is going to be down there in the gas. She will be unprotected. What is her survival time?'
'With Hazel directing us we will be able to stay in close contact with Nastiya and get to her very quickly. We will have a spare oxygen cylinder with us to give her.'
'That does not answer my question. How long will she have once the gas hits her?'
'Four or five minutes before she loses consciousness,' Hector replied quietly.
'And ... ?' Paddy insisted.
'And eight to twelve minutes before death.'
'Bugger your bloody gas, Hector Cross. I don't need it. Let me go in alone. I will take care of Kamal and bring Nastiya out without gassing her.'
'Sorry, Paddy. We do this my way.' Hector spoke with finality. 'We've wasted enough time yapping. Let's get on with it!'
Hector was in the anchor chain tier in the bows of the tanker. Tariq stood behind him and checked his weaponry; the placement of the Beretta pistol, the spare magazines and the knife in its sheath. He made certain they were all readily to Hector's hand.
On his hip Hector hung a small two-litre emergency oxygen bottle with a built-in face mask. It would give twenty minutes of grace to anybody caught in the CO gas. Paddy was carrying an identical cylinder. One of them had to get to Nastiya before the CO gas. Paddy was carrying an identical cylinder. One of them had to get to Nastiya before the CO killed her. killed her.
The main Draeger oxygen rebreather was large and clumsy, and neither he nor Paddy had operated one before. However, one of Cyril's crewmen knew the equipment intimately, and had given them a brief introductory course. The helmet was extraterrestrial in appearance, and was rendered even more outlandish by the protruding eyes of the infrared night vision. The crewman plugged the Falcon radio into the extension mike inside the helmet.
'All ready to roll, sir,' he told Hector. 'Remember to switch on the oxygen tap before you close the face mask, not afterwards.You'd be surprised at how many novices forget that.' Hector nodded and called Hazel first.
'Hazel, I'm about to descend through the forward hatch now.'
'Hector, we have you on the screen. You're all clear ahead. The target is still stationary in the Number Two compartment.'
'Thank you, Hazel,' Hector acknowledged. 'Cyril, do you read me?'
'Loud and clear, Hector,' Cyril replied from the bridge.
'Paddy, do you read me?'
'Your dulcet tones ring sweetly in my ears, Heck.' Paddy's mood was obviously lightening with the promise of action, and the imminent rescue of Nastiya.
'Hold your position until I give you the word to move in.' Hector stepped onto the top rung of the steel ladder and gave Tariq and the crewman a thumbs-up. Then he swiftly descended the ladder to the lower level. The surroundings were cramped and confined, boxed in by raw steel painted a poisonous and forbidding green. Despite Hazel's assurance that the tunnel ahead was clear, he loosened the pistol in its holster and took it in a double-handed grip, pointing down the tunnel ahead of him.
'Okay, Cyril, you can kill the lights now.' Even though he had given the order the darkness was so sudden and intense that he had to stifle a gasp. He switched on his infrared night vision and his surroundings re-emerged in a dull and red monochrome.
'Hazel?' he asked.
'No change, Hector, the target is still stationary in Number Two.' Hector moved down the narrow tunnel. He was amazed at the length of the compartments. Walking fast, it took him over four minutes to reach the first watertight door. He stepped through and then called Cyril again.
'Cyril, I'm through the Number Eight hatch. Close it behind me.' He watched the hatch slide closed with a hydraulic hiss from the driving pistons.
'Should I gas the compartment behind you, Hector?' Cyril asked.
'Negative.' Hector stopped him. 'The compartment is deserted. No profit in gassing it.' He went on past another of the huge pumps. It was thumping and wheezing as it circulated the gas. Above it was a narrow vertical shaft that carried the egress pipe from the pump up to the top of the main tank. There was another ladder that ran up this shaft, but it was a dead end. There was no exit or escape through the upper end of the shaft.
Hector passed eight more of the massive pumps, and went through four more hatches. Each time he reached one of the hatches he called Hazel, and she told him that the target was still stationary in the No. 2 compartment. Hector went through the hatch into No. 4, and from the bridge Cyril closed it behind him. But when he reached the next hatchway and stepped into No. 3 there was an abrupt change. The hatch was sliding closed behind Hector, when Hazel called sharply over the radio.
'Hector, heads up! The target is splitting. Two subjects are stationary but the third is moving down the tunnel in your direction.' Hector was taken by surprise. Which one of them had broken away? It couldn't be Kamal; he would never abandon his hostage and go on alone. It couldn't be Nastiya for exactly the same reason; Kamal would never let her escape. It could only be Adam. What wild self-serving impulse had made him leave Kamal's protection? Probably the pitch darkness had worn down his nerves until they broke. That was why Hector had ordered Cyril to douse all the lights.
'Good!' Hector grunted. 'Cyril, open the hatch behind me again. Expedite!' As soon as it opened Hector went back through it into the compartment he had just vacated. 'Okay, Cyril. I am back inside the Number Four compartment. Close the hatch again.' He waited quietly for almost six minutes, then Hazel called again.
'Hector, the third man has reached your position. He is on the other side of the hatch from where you are standing. He seems to be examining the hatch, trying to find the lock and get the door open.'
'Okay, Hazel. I am sure the third man is Adam Tippoo Tip, and now we have got him where we want him. Cyril, close the hatch behind Adam, and let me know when you have done so.' Only a minute later Cyril came back on.
'Hatch is closed, Hector,' he reported. 'Adam is bottled up in Number Three compartment.'
'Okay, Cyril. Now flood the compartment with CO.' There was another long pause, and Cyril explained the delay.
'It takes time for the gas to permeate the whole compartment.' Nobody spoke again for a while, then Hazel called.
'Now it's working! Adam is running back the way he came in. He's obviously panicking. The CO is getting to him.' is getting to him.'
'Cyril, open the hatch and let me through.' Hector switched on the oxygen tap and closed his face mask. He stepped through the hatch into the CO-drenched compartment and ran down the catwalk in pursuit of Adam. He had to get to him before the gas killed him. He found him slumped against one of the gas pumps in an attitude of prayer, and recognized the white robes before he saw his face. When Hector turned him over he saw that he was already unconscious, but breathing in deep gasps. Hector saw that he had a black leather attache case chained to his left wrist and tried to remove it, but the chain was stainless steel and the lock was of superior quality, similar to those used by diplomatic couriers. It would take a cutting torch to release it. There was no time to waste now, so he dragged Adam to one of the green steel gas pipes that ran horizontally along one side of the tunnel, and laid him facedown on top of it. He wrapped his limbs around the pipe, attache case and all, and used cable ties to secure his wrists and ankles. Adam was pinned as securely to the gas pipe as a chunk of pork on a kebab skewer.
'That will hold you,' Hector said quietly and reached for the two-litre oxygen cylinder hanging from his belt. He placed the moulded polyurethane mask over Adam's nose and mouth and opened the tap. The oxygen hissed softly into Adam's gasping mouth. Hector secured the mask in place with the elastic strap around the back of Adam's head, then called Cyril.
'Sure enough, the runaway is Adam. I have him secured. He is still unconscious, but I have put the oxygen mask on him. He should come around again in a few minutes. Switch on the lights in this compartment and then run the ventilators to purge the CO.' As the oxygen began to take effect, Adam gulped and grimaced. He opened his eyes and groaned, his limbs convulsed and he struggled against his bonds. Then he looked up at Hector in his monstrous Draeger helmet and he screamed wildly and incoherently. He tried to throw off the oxygen mask, but when he found that he could not do so he sobbed into it, 'Where am I? What is happening to me?'
Hector ignored him. He waited for another ten minutes by his wristwatch and then opened his own face mask and tested the quality of the air. At low concentrations CO is odourless, but at high concentrations it has a sharp acidic smell and a sour taste on the tongue. The ventilators had purged and cleansed the poisonous gas. The air was untainted. is odourless, but at high concentrations it has a sharp acidic smell and a sour taste on the tongue. The ventilators had purged and cleansed the poisonous gas. The air was untainted.
Hector ripped the oxygen mask off Adam's face, and closed the tap before he hung it on his own belt again.
'Who are you? What are you going to do with me?' Adam's voice quavered.
'We will discuss that later,' Hector promised him in Arabic as he checked the cable ties on his ankles and wrists.
'I know who you are! You are the assassin, Hector Cross!' Adam's voice rose to a shriek. 'You killed my father and my grandfather, now you are going to kill me.'
'Yes. There is a good chance of that happening,' Hector agreed with him as he straightened up and called Cyril on the radio. 'Adam is secured and he has regained consciousness. Open the hatch into the Number Two compartment. I am going after Kamal and Nastiya now. Close the hatch after I've passed through.'
The hatch opened in front of him and he ducked through it into No. 2. There he paused.
'Hazel, where is Kamal?' he called.
'Hector, he has not moved. He is still in Number Two just ahead of you. I think he's found some secure hole in which to hide and he's waiting for you to come to him.'
'Then we mustn't disappoint him,' Hector told her. 'Okay, Cyril, close both hatches to Number Two compartment and be ready to flood it with gas at my command.'
'Roger, Hector. We have got Kamal boxed in. No way out for him.'
'Paddy, do you copy me?'
'Copy you, Hector.'
'Move up and wait at the Number Two hatch at your end. I will be waiting on my side. Cyril will pump in the gas and as soon as Kamal is incapacitated we will go in at the same time to grab Nastiya before the gas gets her.'
'You'll have to move fast to beat me, Cross. This is my girl you are monkeying with.'
'She's going to be all right, Paddy. She's too tough and beautiful to die young.'
'Stop yapping, Cross. Let's do it!'
'Hazel, last check. Where is the target?'
'Hector, they haven't moved. Still holed up in the middle of the compartment. I don't like this. I think Kamal has got a last trick in his hat. He's waiting for you. Please be careful, my love.'
'Careful is my middle name,' Hector assured her. 'But I think a whiff of CO might make Kamal a little more friendly. Give him the gas, Cyril.' might make Kamal a little more friendly. Give him the gas, Cyril.'
'Roger, Hector. I am opening the CO cylinders now!' cylinders now!'
'Paddy, we go in exactly four minutes. By then Kamal should be down.'
'Sure, and so will Nastiya,' Paddy replied bitterly. Hector turned a deaf ear as he watched the luminous second hand of his Rolex. It moved around the dial with all the deliberation of an Alpine glacier. It had reached the zenith and started its second circuit when Hazel spoke again, her voice taut with anxiety.
'We have lost contact! Kamal and Nastiya have disappeared off our screen.'
'That's not possible. Is the IR sensor in the tunnel still functioning? Perhaps Kamal has found it and disabled it.' Just when he was sure he had the situation well in hand, Hector felt it all beginning to unravel.
'Affirmative. It's still functioning, but Kamal has gone. No contact!' Hazel repeated urgently. Hector braced himself to ride the panic he felt rising to carry him away.
Think like the fox! he exhorted himself. he exhorted himself. Think like Kamal! What is the bastard doing? Think like Kamal! What is the bastard doing? His intuition kicked in and he found the answer to his own question. He spoke into the battle radio. 'Paddy, Kamal has probably smelled the gas. That odour is unmistakable. He knows it's CO His intuition kicked in and he found the answer to his own question. He spoke into the battle radio. 'Paddy, Kamal has probably smelled the gas. That odour is unmistakable. He knows it's CO and he knows it's heavier than air. He knows that to survive he must get above it. But how would he do that?' It took him another few seconds before he had the answer. 'The Number Two egress shaft! The bastard has climbed to the top of the shaft, and taken Nastiya with him. There is no IR sensor in the shaft, and the sweet air will be trapped in it. In there he can breathe and he has Nastiya as a shield. We can't fire up the shaft without hitting her.' and he knows it's heavier than air. He knows that to survive he must get above it. But how would he do that?' It took him another few seconds before he had the answer. 'The Number Two egress shaft! The bastard has climbed to the top of the shaft, and taken Nastiya with him. There is no IR sensor in the shaft, and the sweet air will be trapped in it. In there he can breathe and he has Nastiya as a shield. We can't fire up the shaft without hitting her.'
'We have to go in now, Hector!' Paddy's voice rose to a shout. 'Let me go! For Christ's sake let me go to her.'
'You're right, Paddy. We have to go in!' Hector said crisply. 'Cyril, open all the hatches! Then cut the gas off and start venting the compartment.' He drew a deep breath and then went on, 'Hazel, get the doctor down here. Somebody is going to get hurt.'
'I am coming with the doctor,' Hazel told him. Hector thought of arguing, but he knew from experience that was futile. Besides which the hatch was sliding open, and he had to go. He ducked through the open hatch and sprinted down the catwalk. There was no time for caution. He knew exactly where Kamal was. The egress shaft rose up from the centre of the compartment above the gas pump; at this rate he could reach it in two minutes. Without breaking his stride he called Paddy again.
'Paddy, when you reach it, take cover behind the gas pump. I will be on this side of it. Tell me when you are in position. We must work together on this. Don't you pull a Lone Ranger act on me.' Paddy did not respond and Hector saw the dark bulk of the gas pump looming just ahead of him. Above it the entrance to the egress shaft gaped like the mouth of a toothless monster. Hector slid in under the shelter of the pump and came up on his knees. The Beretta 9mm was in his hands and aimed up into the mouth of the shaft.
'Okay, Paddy, are you in position?' he asked softly and the reply came back instantly.
'In position, Hector!'
'Cyril, do you copy?'
'Copy you, Hector.'
'At my count of five, switch on all the lights. One. Two. Three. Four. Lights!' From utter darkness, the compartment was lit up with the bright electric glare. There was a 180-watt bulb in a wire cage at the top of the egress shaft. It back-lit Kamal and Nastiya like a stage effect. Kamal was crouched on the narrow steel landing. Nastiya was standing on the rung of the ladder below him. She had both her hands pinioned with cable ties in front of her. There was a rope around her neck. Kamal was holding the other end of the rope in one hand and an automatic rifle in the other. He was aiming the rifle down the shaft, and as soon as he saw Hector and Paddy in the shaft thirty feet below him he fired a burst at them with one hand. The moment before he fired they both ducked behind the pump.
The report of the rifle was ear-splitting in the enclosed area of the shaft. The bullets clanged off the steel bulkheads and the heavy gas pipes, throwing up bright showers of sparks. As soon as the rifle burst ceased, Hector risked a quick glance around the dome of the pump. There was no chance of a shot at Kamal. Nastiya's body screened him almost completely, yet he saw that she had somehow managed to twist a bight of Kamal's rope around her bound wrists. He could no longer use it as a garotte. She was balancing precariously on the rung of the ladder, without any handhold. Hector saw at once what she was planning to do, even before she yelled wildly, 'Catch me, Babu!' Then she threw herself backwards into the shaft. The rope jerked up tight but she took the strain on her wrists rather than with her neck. The end of it was whipped out of Kamal's hands and he was almost dislodged from his perch. He scrabbled wildly to keep his balance.
Who the hell is Babu? Hector thought irrelevantly. His unspoken question was answered at once as Paddy raced out from behind the gas pump and stood under the mouth of the shaft with his arms spread wide, looking up at Nastiya as she hurtled down towards him. She had balled her body, tucking in her elbows and knees, and the fall was almost thirty feet. She was accelerating to bone-shattering velocity, but Paddy did not flinch. He snatched her out of the air and into his arms, and was knocked down by her momentum onto the steel deck, absorbing most of the shock of the collision with his own body. The impact sounded like a sack of coal thrown from the back of a dray onto a cobbled street, and Hector heard the crackle of breaking bone. But Paddy never released his grip. He held Nastiya to his chest. Hector thought irrelevantly. His unspoken question was answered at once as Paddy raced out from behind the gas pump and stood under the mouth of the shaft with his arms spread wide, looking up at Nastiya as she hurtled down towards him. She had balled her body, tucking in her elbows and knees, and the fall was almost thirty feet. She was accelerating to bone-shattering velocity, but Paddy did not flinch. He snatched her out of the air and into his arms, and was knocked down by her momentum onto the steel deck, absorbing most of the shock of the collision with his own body. The impact sounded like a sack of coal thrown from the back of a dray onto a cobbled street, and Hector heard the crackle of breaking bone. But Paddy never released his grip. He held Nastiya to his chest.
Hector did not spare even a glance at the two interlocked bodies under his feet, but he concentrated every last iota of mind and muscle on the figure high above him in the steel shaft.
Kamal was clinging to one of the ladder rungs, kicking and struggling to keep his balance. Hector's first shot with the Beretta ricocheted off a rung of the steel ladder directly beneath him. The deformed bullet lost only a little of its velocity as it tumbled in the air and then went up between Kamal's legs, piercing the perineum and burrowing deeply into his bowels. Kamal's whole body bucked and convulsed. He hung on to the ladder with a death grip, but could not maintain his hold on the rifle. It dropped, rattling against the bulkheads and bouncing on the rungs of the ladder. Hector ducked as it flew past his head, and then he fired three more shots in rapid succession. Every one of them tore through flesh, bone and vitals. Slowly Kamal's fingers opened until he lost his grip on the steel ladder and dropped down the shaft, his loose robes fluttering around him until he struck the deck at Hector's feet. Hector leaned over him and fired two more shots into his head, before he turned to where Paddy and Nastiya lay.
The tunnel was still flooded with CO gas which had not yet been purged by the ventilators. Nastiya was at risk. Hector knelt beside her and unhooked the two-litre oxygen bottle from his belt. He opened the tap and clapped the mask over her nose and mouth. gas which had not yet been purged by the ventilators. Nastiya was at risk. Hector knelt beside her and unhooked the two-litre oxygen bottle from his belt. He opened the tap and clapped the mask over her nose and mouth.
'See to Paddy first!' Nastiya demanded and her voice was muffled by the plastic mask. Paddy was trying to sit up, but he was injured. His body was out of shape; his one shoulder drooping.
Collarbone gone and probably a couple of ribs, Hector thought. Certainly a few sprains and torn muscles, but is there any brain damage? Certainly a few sprains and torn muscles, but is there any brain damage? Then he said aloud, 'Come along, Babu. Lady says I have to look after you.' Then he said aloud, 'Come along, Babu. Lady says I have to look after you.'
'One of these days you are going to go too far, Cross,' Paddy warned him but without real rancour. His face was twisted with a mixture of pain and adulation as Nastiya knelt over him and he looked up into her eyes.
'No brain damage. The lad is still hot as a pistol!' Hector said with a grin and switched on the mike of his radio. 'Now hear this all of you! Kamal is down and out. So is Uthmann Waddah. Adam is captured. Paddy has broken a couple of bones, but he is tough and they'll mend. Main thing is that Nastiya and I are just fine. So no real worries!'
Hector and Hazel stood together on the wing of the Golden Goose Golden Goose's bridge. He had his arms around her and she was leaning back against his chest. In silence they watched the last boats coming off the beach, packed with the seamen that Sam Hunter's column had released from the prison stockades ashore. The men were being ferried out to their ships in the bay.
Sam's men were torching the buildings of the town, after making sure that no widows and orphans had been left behind by the fleeing populace. Hazel had been very definite about that. Already most of the pirated ships in the bay had the majority of their original crews on board, and they had started their engines in preparation for sailing. Eight ships that had been lying at anchor for many years had deteriorated to such an extent that their engines were rusted solid and their hulls were so riddled with rust that they were totally unseaworthy. Hector ordered them to be scuttled, to deprive the pirates of even these meagre rewards. When their seacocks were opened to flood the hulls many of them capsized, while others sank to the bottom in an upright position with only their rigging showing above the surface. At last Sam Hunter's squadron of AAVs trundled down the beach into the sea and started swimming back to the Goose Goose, leaving the town in flames. Hazel broke their silence.
'So, my darling, the job is over and done,' she said in what was almost a whisper.
'Almost but not quite done. There is just one more thing we have to see to,' Hector replied, and she turned in the circle of his arms and looked up into his face.
'I know. I've been dreading this part of it.' She sighed. 'Where is he?'
'Tariq has him locked in the armoury in the covert area of the ship.'
'We should do it at once, and get it over with before I lose my nerve.'
'We will only do it once we are at sea,' he demurred. 'But neither of us will lose our nerve. We owe it to Cayla and Grace.'
'I know,' Hazel whispered and stirred against his chest, 'we must have justice for them. Without that none of us will ever have peace. When, my darling? When must we do it?'
'We sail this evening. We'll do it at dawn tomorrow, when we are out of sight of land.'
'Just you and me?' Hazel asked softly. 'Nobody else?'
'Others have suffered,' Hector reminded her. 'Tariq, Paddy and Nastiya.'