No Remorse Part 30

During the day, she had carefully observed the deployment of weaponry-rocket-propelled grenade launchers on the foredeck and amidships, and a thirty-calibre machine gun on the helicopter landing pad. Her people needed to be warned. They would not be expecting such a powerful defence. However, she couldn't risk sending a message, and in any case all communications had been shut down.

The rain and salt spray whipped at her face. The vessel powered forward, lurching up the back of a wave and sliding down its face, before ploughing into the next. She was pleased about the swell. But even though she could handle the sea, she had taken tablets as a precaution. Many of the security personnel were on their first voyage at sea and would be down below, wishing they were dead.

She turned the comer. A powerful shaft of light blinded her. She froze. A lighthouse beacon, warning of a nearby coral atoll, moved on and she was plunged into darkness again. Crouching below the rail on its next pa.s.s, she moved again, her breathing shallow, trying to hear above the crashing waves and snarling wind.

Boots. Clunking on the deck above.

She raced down the stairs to the stern deck and hid behind one of the jet skis secured by a crane in its canvas cradle. The cables flapped in the wind and made a haunting wail. One of the new Pakistani guards staggered down the steps, grasping the rail as the vessel troughed out the bottom of a thirty-footer.

She slipped out the knife. The guard was focused only on making it to the side, where he vomited what remained in his stomach. Most of it was blown back in his face. After wiping his face, he tried unsuccessfully to light a cigarette, his hand shaking as he cursed in words Sheriti didn't understand.

It would have been easy enough to push him overboard. If he had lingered she would have. But after a few moments, he climbed back up the stairs. She doubted he'd return any time soon. She sheathed the knife.

Opening the hatch, she descended to the lower level, moving quickly towards the engine noise, alert for any threat. In front of her were two polished timber doors, both locked. With Khalid's master key, she unlocked the door on the left. Her nostrils flared at the whiff of diesel that washed over her, causing her to breathe more shallowly as she opened the bulkhead to the main hold.

She waited, listening, until she was confident there was n.o.body else in the hold. There was an irregular clicking sound. She switched on her penlight and, shielding the beam with her hand, moved slowly through the cavernous s.p.a.ce, staying close to the wall. She brushed against heavyweight coveralls on a hook. A radiation protection suit.

A Geiger counter was between two crates on the floor. The indicator gauge pointed to orange, meaning the radiation was higher than normal, but not dangerous. Radioactive material was nearby. The canisters were here!

There were dozens of crates. The ones containing the canisters must be nearby. She began to unscrew a crate when she heard a metallic clunk. The hatch was being opened. She killed the flashlight and crouched low. The lights came on and she closed her eyes, breathing steadily. The soft squish of rubber boots came closer. She quickly squeezed between two crates and quietly withdrew the knife.

Cigarette smoke drifted into her nostrils. The guard was moving close. She held her breath, not daring to glimpse around the crate. The man let out a long, flaccid fart and a second, shorter pop, followed by a contented sigh. Squeezing her eyes tight and clenching her teeth, her mind switched to the body she'd seen Ziad's men dump overboard last night. No fingers. Empty sockets where the eyes had been. Cuts all over the body. It was not the first time she had seen them dump a body at sea.

She was mentally committed now. But just as she readied herself to rise up and plunge the knife into the guard, his footsteps began to recede. A few moments later, the lights were switched off and the bulkhead door closed. Silence. She released the breath she'd been holding for what seemed like hours and rose to her feet. The Geiger counter and the radiation suit were evidence enough. It wasn't practical to search every crate. She needed to warn the others. She peered out the bulkhead door. No sign of anyone. She raced along the corridor to the hatchway. It was all or nothing. She opened the hatch onto the stem deck.

Two men were hurrying towards the hatchway in the driving rain.

She fired point blank. The first man dropped his flashlight as he slumped to the deck. Behind him was Ziad. Reacting surprisingly fast, he lunged forward and rammed the hatch against her arm, causing her pistol to clatter onto the deck. She gritted her teeth in pain as her forearm was mashed between the metal rims of the hatch. Not broken, thankfully, but it felt like her arm was on fire and it would be badly bruised later. Ziad! There could be no bluffing now. Her cover was blown, regardless. But in that instant she realised she could make this an opportunity. It was against orders to kill Khalid or his key people, but she would plead that she'd had no choice but to kill the psychopathic monster.

Sheriti grunted, exerting every muscle to shove the hatch open. Unarmed, she flew at Ziad and kicked his arm as he brought up his pistol. He managed to hold onto the weapon and fired. The bullet pinged off the superstructure as Sheriti grabbed his arm, twisting, tossing him over her hip onto his back. He fired again, this time harmlessly into the air. She stomped on his armpit. Ziad yelped. The pistol skittered across the deck with Sheriti leaping after it. Recovering quickly, Ziad scrambled over and disappeared through a hatchway. If others hadn't already been alerted by the shooting, Ziad would raise the alarm. She had maybe thirty seconds.

She picked up the pistol just as a guard appeared on the deck above with his weapon. She shot him twice and he tumbled over the rail into the ocean. Sheriti returned her aim back to where Ziad had fled inside, for a moment considered going after him.

No time.

Scrambling across the heaving deck to the crane, she released the cleat that held the jet ski in place. Using the joystick, she manoeuvred the watercraft over the side until it was swinging in its cradle above the waves.

Another two guards appeared. One yelled at her. She shot at them as the Princess Aliya bucked down another wave. Missed.

One of the men fired but the shots sprayed the deck nearby as the vessel came out of a trough. Sheriti let off two more rounds and pulled the release bar. The jet ski seemed to hover for a moment before it plunged into the roiling sea nose-first, disappearing in the white flurry of wake.

A guard fired as she put her foot on the rail and jumped.

84.

On the bridge, with its masculine smell of tobacco, leather and sweat, the Second Officer Abdul Siddiq was at the helm. Captain Jergah was no doubt sleeping very soundly as usual, Khalid a.s.sumed, as he bent over the radar screen, fully alert now, watching the white dot edge ever closer. His irritation at being woken by gunshots and finding Sheriti gone from his bed had been distracted by news of this mysterious vessel creeping up on them from behind. Was it a pirate vessel? Or was it Israelis, as he suspected? Khalid had ordered his two security commanders, Ziad and Captain Khan, to the bridge to explain why their men were shooting this late at night, possibly alerting the trailing vessel of their defences. Was one of the crew practicing night firing, or perhaps simply celebrating someone's birthday in the traditional way? Either way, someone had been contravening his orders.

The radar operator, Hareem, pointed to a small white dot on the round screen, which flickered slightly as it refreshed. "It has closed to four kilometres, Highness."

The door opened and Captain Jergah joined them on the bridge, adjusting his uniform. "My apologies, Highness. I didn't know you were here. They just woke me and told me there has been a shooting."

Khalid waved off his apology. "Perhaps you could enlighten me. I've only just got here myself. Abdul doesn't know what happened, and we can't risk putting on the lights, so the cameras are useless. Khan and Ziad are on their way. Look at this..." He pointed at the radar. "I believe it may be Israelis. Call battle stations if the vessel gets closer."

The door swung open and Captain Khan appeared, his forehead split with a deep frown as though he'd received news of a close relative's death. "Highness, Captain Jergah, I have to report an incident. Two of our men dead, and Dr. Gammal is treating another for a serious wound. Sheriti..."

The mention of his fiancee's name jolted Khalid and he turned from the radar screen. At the same moment, the door opened and Ziad entered, accompanied by a biting cold gust from outside as the Princess Aliya rode over the top of a wave. "Highness. Sheriti's gone. She shot several men and jumped from the stern. She has a jet ski."

"What?" No! Not Sheriti! Khalid looked from Ziad to Khan and back again. This made no sense. After Sheriti had accepted his marriage proposal and wedding plan, and after tonight's incredible lovemaking. He felt a ratcheting anger at both men rising in his chest. "Who suggested this nonsense?" he hissed, his voice trembling from a growing fury.

"I'm sorry, Highness. I too, would not have believed it..." Ziad's eyes were unable to sustain his glare. "But I witnessed it with my own eyes. Sheriti attacked us as she came out from the hold-she must have been checking the cargo hold, against your stated order. She surprised us and I only just managed to get away. It was plain she intended to kill me. She must know about the canisters."

Khalid opened his mouth to speak, but his inner turmoil caught the words in his throat. His mind was in a spin as he tried to reject what his ears had just heard. He had begun to trust her, had begun to tell her more about his secrets. He tried to think what she knew. That he had inherited a treasure, yes, but not the details. Nothing about the nuclear materials, and no details about the fortress. "Perhaps, Ziad, she did understand French after all. You a.s.sured me you had vetted her!" Khalid lashed out and slapped Ziad with the back of his hand. His ring caused blood to appear on a thin line along Ziad's cheek.

"I am sorry, Highness." Ziad stood there, head bowed.

Khalid shook his head and stormed outside onto the deck. Gripping the rail, ignoring the cold and wind and salt spray as the vessel bottomed out in a wave, his mind blurred as he tried to focus on the circ.u.mstances they were now in. Ziad's incompetence in not properly vetting Sheriti was difficult to forgive. By rights, he should throw Ziad overboard. But it was the loss of Sheriti he was feeling most. Holding onto the rail, he cursed the woman's treachery, flushed with shame at having been deceived by a woman such as this. What a grand deception she had perpetrated. He had fallen for this clever actress-wh.o.r.e, had been going to marry her. How would she have avoided that? She must have had orders to find out about the nuclear canisters and then make her escape. Taking a deep breath, he cried out, "SHERITI!" But the ripping wind swallowed the word, almost before it left his mouth.

Khalid now felt certain that the vessel following was Israeli. Just as he now realised that Sheriti was a traitorous Jew. He had prepared well for this eventuality, and had also perpetrated his own deception. But there had been nothing to suggest that Sheriti was the traitor. Fortunately, he had not publicly announced that she was to be his fourth wife. More fortunate still, she didn't know the true location of the canisters, and had never been inside the fortress. So his remaining bombs would be safe until they were sent on their way.

He would need some time to adjust to the shock of Sheriti's betrayal. Yet this was not the moment for reflection or punishments. They needed to get to the safety of Andaran. He would lead them, get them working to stop the Israeli attack. Show them he was deserving of their loyalty. Let the Israelis come. He was prepared. And he relished the opportunity for revenge.

Wiping the salty water off his face, and from his eyes, Khalid turned and opened the door to the bridge. "Is your team ready, Captain Khan?"

"It is, Highness. They are in position. Although some of them suffer from seasickness."

Khalid growled. "I will hear no excuses from anyone tonight. We will destroy the wh.o.r.e Sheriti and her Zionist dogs."

"Three kilometres and closing," Hareem said.

Although their weaponry was designed to defend Princess Aliya against attack, not to a.s.sault another vessel, it was yet possible that they might overpower the Israeli boat, and Khalid considered how he might deal with the captured Israelis. He would scuttle their vessel with its male attackers and enjoy his revenge on Sheriti at leisure as they continued to Andaran, denying Ziad his long-awaited delights with the traitorous wh.o.r.e as he treated the rest of the crew to unlimited pleasures with her until they disposed of her corpse, piece by piece, overboard.

"We have the advantage of the night and the weather," Captain Jergah said, formally taking command of the vessel. Siddiq remained at the wheel.

Khalid grabbed a rail as the ship rolled to starboard. "Tell the crew there will be a generous reward if we capture the Zionist wh.o.r.e alive."

The intercom blared with Jergah's order: "All crew to combat positions! Switch off navigation lights. All lights off! His Highness has offered a generous bonus if Sheriti is captured alive."

There was nothing else to do now but to wait. Captain Khan left the bridge to check on the deployment of his men.

"Two kilometres and closing."

Using the international hailing channel, Jergah said, "Unidentified vessel. This is Captain Mahmoud Jergah of the Princess Aliya, Please identify yourself and your intentions."

An eerie static came from the loudspeaker.

"If they have inflatables, they'll launch them within half a mile," Jergah said. "Maybe less, in this weather. We'd have two to three minutes after they launch."

Khalid could feel a discomfort inside his chest, caused as much by the frustration of waiting as the antic.i.p.ation. He hated waiting, much preferring to take the initiative. They would do the same now and give the Israelis something to remember. "Turn around, Mahmoud. I want you to head straight at them."

"Half speed. Turn one eighty. Heading due north," Jergah ordered. Over the intercom he said, "All hands, prepare to turn about."

They had discussed this tactic. Heading for the other vessel would allow the men on the bow to fire the rocket-propelled grenades. This should give them an initial advantage and possibly disable the other vessel.

As it broached the southerly swell, the Princess Aliya listed sharply. Then it surged forward like a gigantic surfboard. The two vessels were on a collision course.

Jergah radioed the vessel twice more to seek identification-once on VHF channel 13, the collision-warning channel, then on channel 16, used for mayday calls, but again received only static. This would, if nothing else, be a record of their efforts to take evasive action.

Captain Jergah spoke, without emotion. "They're not changing direction, Highness. We will collide in less than two minutes if we hold course."

"Hold course."

"You understand that if we collide, the Princess Aliya could be holed and sink."

"They won't risk a collision when there's no certainty that it would destroy us. But it would definitely destroy them."

"Half mile and closing," Hareem said.

Second Officer Siddiq struggled to maintain steerage as the vessel surfed down a twenty-footer from the following swell.

"Spotlights on! Cameras on!" ordered Jergah.

Dazzling shafts of light reached out into the blackness to scan the ocean ahead. Night-vision goggles would be rendered useless.

"We're about to hit!" Hareem shouted.

A searchlight beam suddenly illuminated a shape portside of the bow. The enemy vessel looked like a prawn trawler, with two cranes deployed each side at the stem. It thundered across in front of the Princess Aliya's bow as the two vessels almost collided. Yellow flames streaked as men from Princess Aliya fired the two RPG launchers. One exploded a few metres behind the rogue vessel, showering a fountain of water. A second RPG also missed, spearing over the vessel's bridge as a wave jerked the shooter's aim. Attackers in a Zodiac rubber boat returned fire as they zipped past, cutting down both RPG shooters. Then the Princess Aliya's searchlight exploded in a hail of automatic fire.

The thirty-calibre on the helicopter deck above them opened up with a tremendous roar. Every third round was a tracer, and the gunner laid down short bursts of fire as the Israeli vessel disappeared into the darkness, spitting steel and chunks of wood from its stem.

On the bridge a cheer went up. Khalid remained silent.

It wasn't over yet.

"Speed fifteen knots. Starboard, ninety degrees."

The southeasterly heading would angle Princess Aliya away from the other boat and keep the thirty-calibre in position. As they turned, a rogue wave sidewalled the Princess Aliya, rolling it almost thirty degrees. Khalid fell to the floor, an ashtray full of cigarette b.u.t.ts toppling onto him. Captain Jergah helped him up.

Automatic fire was coming from all directions. It raked the women's quarters and the helicopter deck. Fortunately, the helicopter was mostly protected by bulletproof screens. The thirty-calibre fell silent. More fire, this time hitting the bridge from both sides. The bulletproof gla.s.s chipped and crackled, but remained intact.

The door swung open and Khan appeared, holding a pistol. "Men are boarding at the stem!"

"Hide in the panic room where we've restrained the spy, Tally," Khalid said. "If Sheriti is among them, she may decide to kill you. They wouldn't dare harm me, whoever they are. And we cannot afford to let them find the woman and take her."

Ziad hurried out.

On the CCTV monitors, they watched the black-suited intruders climb aboard, throwing flash-bangs and shooting anyone that resisted. Captain Jergah drew his weapon, but Khalid shook his head.

"No, Mahmoud. Order the men to put their weapons down. We will let the Zionist fools take what they came for."

Before Captain Jergah could announce that order, a series of bright flashes and loud explosions stunned them. They fell to the floor, unconscious.

85.

The Israelis wore balaclavas and their wet suits bore no insignia, but Khalid had to admit they were disciplined and professional. Their leader ordered the Princess Aliya slowed to five knots and all the lights switched on. Everyone except Captain Jergah and the radar operator was herded to the cinema room, where Dr. Gammal was treating the injured as eight commandos guarded them. The commando leader ordered Khalid to take him and two of his men to the hold.

As he led the way down, Khalid said, "Is the offer of your man Cohen still open?"

The Israeli ignored him. Perhaps there was a glimmer of amus.e.m.e.nt in his eyes, but the balaclava was like a burqa, concealing any expression or identification.

I'll soon wipe that smirk off, arrogant Jew.

"Sheriti made it safely, I a.s.sume? She has a talent, that one. But you probably already know. Most of my men know this very well."

The leader pushed him forward. They reached the hold, where the Geiger counter was clicking. The leader squatted to read the meter. "Show me the canisters."

"What canisters?"

The commando moved around, holding the device against each crate. "You'll save us all time if you tell me which crates the canisters are in. We will find them anyway."

"Did Sheriti tell you they were here? They're not. Sheriti has been played for a fool. Here, let me show you." He took the Geiger counter and removed the luminous watch face he'd taped to the detection probe. Moving the watch face away slowed the clicking. "My grandfather's watch." He smirked.

If the leader was irritated, he didn't show it. He turned to one of his men. "Use our detector. Check every crate. If we have to, we'll search every orifice on this boat."

After a few minutes of holding the device against each crate, the other commando gave an excited cry. "Got them!"

"Five?"

"Four."

"Four? There's supposed to be five. Check all of the crates."

Khalid had a grim expression. "Haven't you been watching the news?"