Coincidence Part 14

A slightly older version of the man appeared over the edge of the dinghy, with Elliott Williams beside him. That would be Stefano, Mac thought, and the first lad must be his brother. The brother pulled as Elliott pushed, and Stefano landed safely, if awkwardly, on the platform. After a minute's rest, the other two men hoisted him up on his feet between them and half carried him aboard the boat.

Anika came next, followed by a tall man who grabbed her hand as soon as he was on the platform. She walked stiff and unsmiling beside him. Bringing up the rear were three men of three strikingly different dimensions: one scrawny, one average, one more than a little stout.

What a crew, Mac thought.

He felt the water around him begin to vibrate. The engine was starting up, humming, warming.

The average-sized man and the scrawny man stayed on the platform, waiting by the Zodiac. They lit cigarettes. The tall man who had held Anika's hand came back and the three conferred, gesturing toward the dinghy.

Right, Mac thought. They'll be deciding what to do with the dinghy now. Only three options, lads. Tow it, sink it, or let it loose. What'll it be, then?

He watched as the skinny fellow bent to open the valves to allow the air out of the Zodiac. Ah, good choice, lads. I was hoping you'd go for that option.

With the weight of its motor and its hard bottom, the Zodiac would inevitably sink-but not for some time. As the tall man cast off the lines and the Coincidence Coincidence began to move, Mac darted under water again and swam behind the motor of the Zodiac. He stayed low in the water until the began to move, Mac darted under water again and swam behind the motor of the Zodiac. He stayed low in the water until the Coincidence Coincidence had traveled a mile or so and then, sliding his plastic-wrapped parcel over the edge, clambered in and shut the valves. had traveled a mile or so and then, sliding his plastic-wrapped parcel over the edge, clambered in and shut the valves.

It'll no' be a fast ride, he thought, but at least I'll get there.

Dave peered through his binoculars as the Coincidence Coincidence grew smaller and smaller against the horizon. His arms ached from holding the gla.s.ses to his eyes so long, but he couldn't put them down. He couldn't yet admit that Mac might not be coming back. grew smaller and smaller against the horizon. His arms ached from holding the gla.s.ses to his eyes so long, but he couldn't put them down. He couldn't yet admit that Mac might not be coming back.

Suddenly he caught sight of the Zodiac, or what was left of it. A half-deflated ma.s.s of red rubber, bobbing sadly in the ripples, was slowly making its way toward the Inspiration. Inspiration. With something-no, someone-lying inside. With something-no, someone-lying inside.

Dave's heart sank. He lowered the binoculars.

Then raised them again as a sudden movement in the little dinghy registered in the corner of his eye.

He refocused the lenses. Thank G.o.d. Mac was up and kneeling now, back straight, the proud captain of his derelict vessel, grinning and snapping a military salute.

33.

Kathleen Tutty was kicking herself for being out of the office when Mac had called. There had been no need for her to drive all the way to Dorval to meet Edward Flynn's flight; he had left his car in the long-term lot. No need whatsoever, except for her desperate wish to share the burden of the past few days with someone else. Waiting alone in the office was beginning to be unbearable; most of the usual BWA business was on hold until this crisis was resolved, so there was little to occupy her time.

And, of course, she hadn't expected Mac to be calling at that time of day. But that was no excuse. He might call anytime there was anything new to report. He had had called. And now it was too late to talk to him, to find out any more details about what exactly was going on. called. And now it was too late to talk to him, to find out any more details about what exactly was going on.

Still berating herself, she left a message on Flynn's answering machine-poor man wouldn't even have made it home from the airport yet-then picked up the phone to call Rob Montgomery with the little she had gleaned from Mac's brief message.

"So, as far as you know, the bad guys are back on the Coincidence Coincidence now with two hostages, sailing away from the now with two hostages, sailing away from the Inspiration Inspiration," Rob said when she was done. "Okay, I'll round everyone up ASAP and we'll see about a revised plan."

Rob was back to her surprisingly soon. He had practically had to sit on Flipper Markman to do so, of course, to restrain him from getting out his infernal flip charts and markers. But the consensus among all those at the hastily a.s.sembled meeting was that there were only two options now, in light of the new situation-hardly enough to warrant all of Flipper's color coding. But each option posed its own dangers to the hostages.

The first, Rob told Kathleen, was to have the Coast Guard cutter-the Serendipity Serendipity it was called-that was already on course for the area continue and intercept the it was called-that was already on course for the area continue and intercept the Coincidence Coincidence at sea. at sea.

"We're all pretty much agreed, given their current position, that the hijackers are going to aim for Easter Island. The Air Force is getting ready to do another flyover ASAP to determine the exact position of the Coincidence Coincidence, and to make sure the Inspiration Inspiration is still afloat." is still afloat."

Kathleen winced. The thought that the Inspiration Inspiration might not be afloat had not entered her mind. might not be afloat had not entered her mind.

"Of course there's some risk to the hostages in confronting and challenging the Coincidence Coincidence in the water. And we don't know how the hijackers will respond if they see the in the water. And we don't know how the hijackers will respond if they see the Serendipity Serendipity approaching them. approaching them.

"Even so, we're thinking this is less risky than the second option, which is to wait until the hijackers reach their destination and then overtake them once they've docked. For one thing, as soon as they've gotten to Easter Island, the hostages-"

Rob broke off, uncertain of how to put this without unduly alarming Kathleen. Unduly? How the devil could any amount of alarm be considered undue now? Still, he groped for the words to use.

"As long as they're at sea, the hostages are useful, especially the doctor. Even though at last report Stefano was improving and is probably over the worst, he's still getting the intravenous fluids and meds, and there's always a chance something could go wrong. They'll want to have the doctor around as long as possible.

"But once they come ash.o.r.e, the hostages will become more of a liability than an advantage for the hijackers. They have no idea that the Inspiration Inspiration has been able to get the word out about the whole affair, so they'll have no reason to believe that anyone on Easter Island will be on the lookout for them. If the hostages decided to act up in any way ... Our guess is that they'll decide they're better off if they don't have the hostages with them." has been able to get the word out about the whole affair, so they'll have no reason to believe that anyone on Easter Island will be on the lookout for them. If the hostages decided to act up in any way ... Our guess is that they'll decide they're better off if they don't have the hostages with them."

Kathleen let out a small gasp.

"Then, too," Rob went on quickly, "Vogler-he's the State Department guy-he pointed out that if we approach them on Easter Island we'll have to involve the Chilean officials and that might lead to all kinds of jurisdictional problems.

"And, since the Serendipity Serendipity is the only ship in the area, we're thinking it's best to keep it as close as possible to the is the only ship in the area, we're thinking it's best to keep it as close as possible to the Inspiration Inspiration, just in case they need any help there, rather than sending it all the way to Easter Island."

a.s.suming that those on the Inspiration Inspiration were still alive enough to need help, Kathleen thought. were still alive enough to need help, Kathleen thought.

"At any rate," Rob said, "the Air Force will be flying over and taking photos soon. They'll try to establish communication somehow with your ship so we can tell them what the plan is. We'll just have to sit tight until then, right?"

Right.

34.

It was all a matter of balance. Captain Luke Marzynski had logged almost two hundred thousand miles in his sailing career; sailing without a rudder had been one of the first lessons he had learned. On a ship the size of the Inspiration Inspiration, you couldn't fine-tune the adjustments, but it was perfectly possible to sail effectively in the right general direction. It was all a question of balance, of the set of the sails.

"So the first thing is to raise the inner jib and the main staysail," he told Mac. "That'll get us moving in the right direction. Then we'll hoist the mainsail. Just keep moving it in and out, in and out, to find the balance."

"What about the square sails?" Mac asked.

"Right. Easter Island is almost due west, and the prevailing wind is from the east, so we can use the square sails as well. Raise both the upper and lower topsails."

It felt good to be in command again. The past few days had been a severe trial for the captain. He was accustomed to being in charge, to taking whatever action was required to get a job done, and, most of all, to ensuring the safety of anyone in his care. Standing aside while someone else took over his boat, looking on impotently while his crew and his students were imperiled, remaining impa.s.sive through the long hours of waiting-all this had taxed him as nothing he had ever experienced.

He watched now as Mac and a crew of Floaties attended to the sails. Thank goodness Mac was safe and back onboard. The man had his share of problems, especially where alcohol was concerned. Luke had known that from the start. There was, lurking just behind his outward joviality, a shadow of tragedy. Mac had never mentioned anything of the sort, and Luke had never inquired, but he felt sure that somewhere in Mac's past lay the key to his occasional lapses of judgment.

Luke had taken a risk in hiring him, but his instincts about him had been right. There was no one more capable-or more kindhearted-than Mac. Edward Flynn had been dubious about signing him on, but Luke had won out over his objections, and on innumerable occasions Mac had proven his worth. And over the course of years of working with the Floaties, Mac had seemed to become more settled, and less inclined to brood-or to drink to excess-although that faint tinge of suppressed melancholy never quite left him.

Now the five sails were up and pulling, and the Inspiration Inspiration gliding along neatly, on course, at about four knots. By making frequent entries in the ship's log and navigational charts, they would be able to estimate their position reasonably well. Luke would try to keep the routine as close to normal as possible, under the circ.u.mstances. It wouldn't be easy without Anika to shepherd the kids-and the kids, although for the most part keeping their upper lips stiff, were worried sick about what was going to happen to her and the doctor. But with the help of Dave and the other teachers, and the ever-resourceful Mac, they'd manage. gliding along neatly, on course, at about four knots. By making frequent entries in the ship's log and navigational charts, they would be able to estimate their position reasonably well. Luke would try to keep the routine as close to normal as possible, under the circ.u.mstances. It wouldn't be easy without Anika to shepherd the kids-and the kids, although for the most part keeping their upper lips stiff, were worried sick about what was going to happen to her and the doctor. But with the help of Dave and the other teachers, and the ever-resourceful Mac, they'd manage.

In the morning, they would activate the emergency beacon that Mac had brought from the Coincidence. Coincidence.

At least they were doing something something.

35.

"What about the doctor and the, uh ... the girl?" Phillip asked Stefano.

Things were looking up now that they were back on the Coincidence Coincidence, no doubt about it. Stefano was stronger. He was still hooked up to the IV pole but was able to walk around on deck for short periods of time. In a few days they'd be handing over the cocaine to Giorgio on Easter Island and hopping a plane back to the States to be there in time to meet his shipment of the Moai statuettes, their ticket to prosperity.

In the meantime, Philip thought-and maybe even afterward, who could say?-he had the lovely Anika all to himself. Hitching up with the Inspiration Inspiration had been a stroke of good luck after all. had been a stroke of good luck after all.

"No witnesses," Stefano said, shaking his head.

It was the reply Phillip had expected. So why did his stomach lurch when he heard it?

He nodded as Stefano ran down the list of reasons why they had to get rid of the hostages. He knew them already, of course; he could have spouted them out just as well himself. Easter Island was a small place. They couldn't risk attracting any attention. One or both of the hostages might decide to make a break for it once they were ash.o.r.e. Not that they'd ever be able to escape alive, but they might decide to sacrifice themselves to put the hijackers behind bars.

"We been through too much, come too far," Stefano said. "We're not gonna risk throwing it all away now. We got no choice. We gonna have to off them."

Phillip nodded. It wouldn't do to have Stefano think he had any reservations about the plan.

"How soon?" he asked.

"A day before we get there. We gonna let nature do the dirty work for us."

"Nature?"

Stefano took a drag on his cigarette, then, gesturing with the stub at the expanse of sea surrounding them, said, "All we gotta do is make sure we still far enough out they can't swim to the island."

In theory, Phillip should have found this idea rea.s.suring. Technically, after all, he wouldn't be killing Anika. No, he would be watching as she and the doctor were tossed overboard (would they be conscious when this happened? would they struggle?), leaving them to nature's devices.

Which meant certain death. No one could survive long in these waters. So, instead of a swift, merciful killing, a bullet to the head, say, he'd be subjecting Anika-and the guy, too, the doctor-to a brutal, agonizing end by drowning or exposure or starvation or sharks.

There had to be some way to save her, to save both of them. The guards, okay, he hadn't felt good about having to kill them either, but at least it was all over and done with quickly; they hadn't suffered. Besides, it was a dangerous job, being a guard for the cartel. They accepted the risk when they signed on. Occupational hazard. And he hadn't known them personally, either. They were just nameless, faceless guards, hardly human at all.

Not like Anika.

As soon as his watch was over, he would go and talk to her. She'd see that it was in her best interest-and in her friend the doctor's best interest-to cooperate with him. He wasn't asking for much, anyway; a small price to pay for the privilege of continuing to exist. She was a smart girl; she'd see. And then he'd only have to get Stefano-and Juan-to see. That would be a little more difficult, but he'd think of some way of persuading them. The first thing was to make Anika see.

Anika didn't see.

She opened her cabin door a crack in response to Phillip's tap and looked at him warily.

"Open up," he said. "We need to talk."

"About what?" Her voice was flat.

"Your future."

Anika opened the door just wide enough for him to squeeze through sideways.

Phillip seemed to be taking up most of the narrow s.p.a.ce in the cabin. Anika wanted to back away, but there was nowhere to go except the bunk, so she held her ground. She could feel his warmth, smell his breath.

She raised her chin and looked him squarely in the eye.

You had to hand it to her, Phillip thought, you really did. She was one plucky little chick. That was one of the things he liked about her, that air of defiance in the face of danger, that brave facade that masked her vulnerability. But he was going to like unmasking the facade even more.

His voice low, he told her of Stefano's plan to abandon her to the ocean. Her eyes grew wider, but she didn't flinch, not even when he told her about the sharks that live in this part of the Pacific.

"I know you don't want that to happen," he concluded. "I don't want it to either."

He took another step toward her.

"What can you do to prevent it?"

"It's what you you are willing to do to prevent it that counts. Remember, we're not just talking about your life here, but your friend the doctor's as well. I don't think it's asking too much for you to give me a small token of thanks for saving your flesh." are willing to do to prevent it that counts. Remember, we're not just talking about your life here, but your friend the doctor's as well. I don't think it's asking too much for you to give me a small token of thanks for saving your flesh."

"What sort of token?" Anika asked.

She braced herself for the reply she was certain was coming.

Phillip took a step closer. Flesh in exchange for flesh, that was to be the bargain, just as she had known it would be. He was now so close she couldn't keep his face in focus; his features swam before her like a surreal painting, all leering eyes and greedy mouth. Phillip bent his head down to hers and began to force her lips apart with his tongue.

Stefano would have locked Phillip up along with Anika and the doctor if the little punetero punetero hadn't been needed. If he wasn't too banged up to be useful, that is, after what the girl had done to him. Maybe he should just chuck him overboard. hadn't been needed. If he wasn't too banged up to be useful, that is, after what the girl had done to him. Maybe he should just chuck him overboard.

But his injuries were less serious than they'd first appeared. Stefano and the doctor had nearly collided rushing to her cabin when they'd heard her screams. Phillip was lying doubled over on the floor in a pool of blood, holding his groin and moaning. The girl had sobbed out the story while the doctor cleaned Phillip up and applied a makeshift bandage to his nose, which was never going to look quite the same again.

The muchacha muchacha had given him a sharp knee in the had given him a sharp knee in the cojones cojones; then, while he was writhing, had followed up with a straight arm to the nose. He'd be sore for a while, and the broken nose would take some time to heal, but there was no reason Phillip couldn't still pull his weight onboard.

Idiota!

What did he think he was doing, spilling everything to the girl in return for laying her? Now the hostages would have to be kept under guard, locked in the forward cabin, and one man a.s.signed to keeping an eye on them at all times. What a waste. What a loser.

And what would Juan do when he found out?

36.

Air Force pilot Nick Anastapolou had just taken his final photo of the Coincidence Coincidence, now some eighty miles from its last sighting. He was heading back to base when he heard the emergency distress beacon. Abruptly altering course, he homed in on the source of the signal. There it was. Yep, that had to be the Inspiration Inspiration, all right, he was sure of it. He circled overhead and radioed headquarters.