“For chrissake,” Mitch muttered under his breath. He turned his back to his team, leant over the side of the vessel and threw up into the water.
“This hasn’t been a great assignment for you has it?” Nick asked the obvious.
“I’ve had better,” he agreed, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. The journey had been choppy and Mitch dropped back onto the bench portside of the research vessel. He glanced at his watch, seeing an hour had passed. Only fifteen to twenty minutes left until they would be near the Villiers’ vessel with Dylan Ting and Ru on board and they could anchor. Through his binoculars, Mitch could see the motor yacht coming into view; no one could be seen above deck. He handed the binoculars to Ellen.
She gave him a sympathetic look. “You really do look green.”
“Thanks. Sam, how are you?” Mitch asked.
“Fine so far,” she said, smiling. “I thought I’d be a lot worse.”
“Good.” Mitch put his head in his hands. “Can you guys just finish this one off and pick me up when it is over?”
Nick patted him on the back.
Mitch looked up at him. “What? No one-liners?”
“I’m not going to kick you when you’re down,” Nick said. “No fun in that. I’ll save them up for later.”
A plane flew over ahead and Mitch looked up enviously. “Ah, those were the days. Come on Sam, we’re getting close, so we better go below deck. If Dylan’s swapped sides we don’t need him to see all of us coming at him.”
Samantha followed Mitch off the deck, down the stairs and out of sight.
“Lie down,” she said and Mitch did so without hesitation, falling into the lower bunk.
They cruised along for a short while before Mitch heard Ellen cut the engine. The anchor rattled as it dropped. He could hear them moving around above deck.
“Mitch, are you asleep?” Samantha asked.
“Yes,” he said keeping his eyes closed.
“Can we talk about— ”
“No.” He shut her down.
“Don’t you think we should?” Samantha said.
Mitch didn’t open his eyes, but he thought for a minute. “I don’t …” he stopped and tried to formulate a response that didn’t include his anger and pain. “Sam, just let me lie here and be sick for now.”
On deck, Ellen gathered her diving gear. “I’m going to go for a dive, want to come?” she asked, hoping Nick would say no. She stripped off her gear to reveal a one-piece navy swimsuit and moved to check the air in one of the onboard tanks.
Nick watched, appreciating the view. “No, I’m going to stay and be seen on deck. I’ll try and look official, look at the clipboard every now and then, make a few marks with my pen, that sort of thing.”
“Try to keep your shirt on and don’t fish off the side, or you might give it away,” Ellen teased as she lifted the tank onto her back. With a glance to her watch to note the time, Ellen lowered her mask, gave him a wave and fell back into the water.
Nick looked over the side, watching her disappear from sight.
Ellen shivered; the water was chilly but the view was spectacular. She glided through the water, feeling at home, appreciating the absolute quiet. She watched as a small school of fish went past, followed by a sand tiger shark lazily in pursuit. She moved lazily herself, lightly kicking as she drifted underwater, enjoying the blue around her.
Ellen turned and looked back at the hull of the research vessel; she thought about the three people—her team—on board. She liked her own company; unlike Samantha, she didn’t need to be around the team all the time and if it required having to dive to have some time out, that was just a bonus.
She thought about Mitch. He still couldn’t show me he needed help after all our assignments together; he had to call for Nick to step him through the breathing exercises, and I’m the qualified medic in the team.
Does he think I’d think less of him? Men! Always playing the hero. I’m his friend. Or maybe he doesn’t think of me like that, maybe I’m just staff, one of his squad. At least he sent me on the stakeout, I guess.
She moved a little further away from the vessel, glancing back to keep it in scope and taking on board the tide, she swam underwater towards Ru and Dylan’s boat. Staying a reasonable distance from it, she observed it for a while; nothing untoward. With a quick glance to her watch, she realized it was time to go back; it was so easy to lose time underwater.
She swam back to the vessel. Nick had lowered a set of iron stairs and she pulled herself up them into the boat. He appeared and took the tank from her.
“Did I miss anything?” she asked, removing her mask and tank.
“Yeah, there’s a storm on its way, I’ve just got the forecast. Heavy rain, gale force winds. Now you’re back, I’ll go tell the boss. He’ll be excited about that.”
Ellen wrapped a towel around herself and followed Nick below deck.
Mitch swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up. He closed his eyes and steadied himself. A sickly pallor overspread his countenance. He opened his eyes and looked at his watch. “OK, we’ve been stationary an hour now, long enough to do ‘research’. Time to head over and tell them the vessel won’t start. Confirm the orders for me again,” Mitch said, gripping the side of the bed, his knuckles white.
“You are going to stay here and continue to throw up,” Nick started. “Sam will man the radio, while Ellie and I head over in the dinghy and ask for help. We’ll let the inhabitants know that something has gone wrong and we have no communications, we’ll ask them if they are experiencing the same thing …”
Ellen took over. “We’ll get ourselves invited on board. We will know pretty quickly if Dylan has swapped sides because he’ll out us and you’ll hear our warning shot, otherwise we will try and get some sign from him on what is going on. Then Nick or I will come back here to get word to Sam and depending on the situation make plans to secure the boat.”
Mitch nodded. “I want them both alive, but not at the risk of your lives, get it?”
They both nodded.
“And try not to create waves as you get off,” Mitch said.
Ellen grinned.
“So not funny,” Mitch told her.
“No.” She tried to look concerned. “Sorry.”
“Go away,” he told them. “Sam, kill me now but take my body back to land, please.”
By the time Ellen and Nick got back on deck, the sky had become dramatically darker.
“We better discuss this,” she said and leaned over the lower deck rail. “Mitch, you had better see this, there’s a storm coming.”
Mitch’s head appeared at the top of the steps. He groaned. “Oh good, I was hoping it would get rougher. What are we talking?”
Nick scanned for the latest report. “According to this, lightning, pelting rain, gale force winds of up to forty knots, probable wave heights at ten to fifteen feet,” he said.
Mitch lowered himself onto the step. Samantha peered past him over to Dylan’s vessel where there continued to be no movement.
“Let’s think this through,” Mitch said. “If you go over now, you may be trapped with them and have to stay longer … which could be good if we knew the lay of the land, but if things go sour and you’re trapped there in the storm and Sam and I can’t get to you, then that could be a disaster … so let’s wait for the storm to pass.”
“I agree, it’s coming pretty fast anyway.” Ellen looked skyward. “We need to batten down everything that moves,” she said, and began to secure items on deck. “Mitch, you and Sam stay out of sight, we can’t risk you being seen now. Nick and I can handle this.”
The boat lurched as the winds began to rise. Nick grabbed for the rails.
“One hand for yourself, and one hand for the boat,” Ellen instructed. Mitch smiled at her and she shrugged. “I worked on a research vessel for three months when I was at college.”
The sky cracked with lighting and another wave slapped the vessel. Samantha fell from the middle stair, landing on the floor below and Mitch raced down to help her. Ellen lurched around the deck. She grabbed a few loose items, opened the bench seat and threw them in. Nick called to her above the rising noise. “Let’s get below deck.”
The storm hit quicker than they anticipated. Within minutes the winds began to howl. The vessel rocked and a huge wave slapped across the deck. Nick waited for Ellen to descend to the lower deck and followed. Lightning flashed across the sky and moments later, the rain began in torrents. Mitch steadied Samantha, who rubbed her leg.
“I’m OK, it’s just a bump.” She limped to the lower bunk, holding onto the top bunk frame as she went. Ellen arrived below deck, and Mitch leant up and helped Nick secure the hatch. The vessel lurched and all three tumbled, their backpacks, loose shoes and clothing hurtling across the room.
“What happens if we capsize?” Samantha asked. “Will we be trapped in here?”
“It will be a major wave that manages to capsize us,” Ellen said.
In response, the vessel rolled again and thudded down as though lifted from the water and dropped from a height.
“I thought you’d be barfing,” Nick yelled to Mitch as they stood together gripping the bed rails.
“I have nothing left inside, thank God,” he replied.
The boat slammed on its side, reluctantly righting itself, and Mitch grabbed his shirt off the floor and threw up into it.
“OK, I found something else to barf up, my liver,” he said.
Ellen laughed. “Next time we fly and I tell you I’m sick, I want you to remember this,” she said.
“Please, stop with the sympathy.” He leaned over again, dry retching into the shirt, and she placed her hand on his back. Mitch pulled away.
“See, you can’t take sympathy,” she said and dropped her hand.
Mitch frowned. “What?” The noise inside the research vessel was incredible.
As the boat lurched, Samantha slid off the bed, and hurtled towards Nick. The vessel went into darkness, creaked and tossed. Thunder roared and the waves hit the side with force.
Nick boosted Samantha up. “You all right?” he called in the dark.
“I think so.” She grabbed onto him and the bunk rail.
“Ellie?” Mitch called.
“I’m all right, just waiting it out,” she called from near the stairs.
A lightning crack made Samantha scream but lit the room. Mitch could make them all out.
“Oh my God that scared me,” she said.
“It struck something,” Nick confirmed, “hopefully not us.”
Mitch retched again and this time Samantha joined him.
For the next twenty minutes the boat reeled dramatically back and forward, rolling over on its side numerous times. Lightning lit their faces and objects flew around the room.
Then it quietened down. Mitch eased out of the space between the bed and wall where he had wedged himself and helped Samantha up. Nick and Ellen moved up the stairs and pushed open the hatch. It was eerily quiet on the ocean. They stumbled out, being careful to check they weren’t seen by Dylan’s boat which stood still as though the storm had passed it by without issue while their research vessel was a mess. Nick tried the engine and shook his head.
“I guess we legitimately need help now,” Mitch said. He reached for a bottle of water, rinsed his mouth and spat overboard.
“Are we going to do it tonight?” Ellen asked.
“Maybe, the cover of darkness might work well for us.” Mitch looked over towards the other boat where one small light came from below deck. “I just need to try and get a call through to John first, in case he has some up-to-date intel. Can you try for me, Sam?”
“Sure.” Sam moved to the satellite phone. She tried a couple of times.
“Got him,” she said.
Mitch joined her and took the phone. “Yeah, we’re fine,” Mitch assured John, “I won’t say it wasn’t freaky though. I think we’ve lost the engine, she’s not kicking over and we’ve got no way of charging batteries to operate running lights. Anything from your end?”
Mitch listened and let out a low whistle. “Yep, I agree. Tonight.”
“How’s the sea legs?” John asked.
“I’m waiting for them to arrive,” Mitch said.
John made a knowing sound and hung up.
“What is it?” Nick asked.
“Maybe all that noise we heard wasn’t just lightning,” Mitch said. “John says one of the other boats nearby called in what they thought sounded like gunshots, which initially they mistook for lightning, but decided to call it in anyway. So just to be on the safe side, we’re scrapping the ‘need assistance’ angle and doing a covert operation instead.”
“You might want to think about that; the storm is not quite done. There’s more on the way. ETA thirty minutes,” Nick reported.
“Damn. Sam, can you get John again for me please?” Mitch asked
Moments later Samantha handed over the phone.
“John, we’ve got a thirty minute window before another storm comes through. I’m thinking we should go now, in case post-storm, they’re gone,” Mitch said.
“Let me speak to the medic,” John said.
Mitch looked at Ellen. “Why?”
“Just put her on the phone,” John insisted.
Mitch called to Ellen. “Ellie, John wants to talk with you.” He handed over the sat nav phone and went to help clean up.
A few minutes later, Ellen handed it back to him.
“I know what you’re going to say,” Mitch said to John down the line.
“Yeah, might be best you man the comms and send the three more sea-able on board, especially if you’ve only got a small window of time,” John said.
Mitch thought about it.
“You know that part of being a good manager is to know when you’re not the best person for the job,” John reminded him. “You can’t watch their backs every minute of the day, they’ll be OK.”
“Right.” Mitch hung up.