The dinghy with Nick, Samantha and Ellen on board reached the side of the boat; the water now seemed amazingly still after the tumultuous storm. There was no moon and the ocean was calm, as if recovering, but Ellen could sense the lull before the next storm—there was a hum in the air.
Nick grabbed the rail down the side of the boat and tied the dinghy loosely to it. They waited. Ellen indicated for them to put their comms on so they could communicate. She checked her gun, Nick and Samantha followed suit. Rising gingerly, waiting to get her balance, Ellen climbed up the iron ladder, stealthily pausing near the top. She scanned the deck; nothing. She spotted an area where she could momentarily crouch and hide, gave the all clear signal and disappeared from their sight onto the deck. Nick gave Samantha a leg up and she followed in Ellen’s footsteps.
A few minutes later Nick appeared on deck. Ellen indicated Nick to take the portside deck and Samantha to take starboard. Ellen crouched beside the rung leading to the lower level and tried to see below through the ladder. Nothing but the one light sitting on the table. She moved slowly and silently below deck. She could see thanks to the glow from the one lamp, but the boat was eerily silent. She paused, scanned the area and moved forward. Ellen stopped to listen; nothing.
Samantha’s report came through her earpiece, “Clear top deck starboard.”
Ellen moved quickly through each area, gun at the ready, scanning as she went.
“Nick, report,” she whispered.
“All clear portside, we’re coming down to you,” he said.
Ellen saw Samantha and Nick working their way towards her. She tried one door which wouldn’t open, put her hip into it and the door gave. The room was a storeroom and empty.
She moved out of the storeroom and turned back to Samantha. “Sam, check the engine room, and be careful,” she said.
Samantha nodded and moved away.
Ellen moved quickly in the direction Nick took, coming alongside him. She tried another closed door. This one wasn’t locked and opened easily—the galley. Ellen stared at the large industrial ovens. Nick turned to look at them, two large ovens with glass panels. He took a deep breath and pulled each oven door open; empty. They both gave a sigh of relief.
“Nothing in the galley,” Ellen reported through her comms for Mitch, who was listening in on the research vessel.
“That leaves four missing now,” Nick said.
“Sam, report?” Ellen asked.
“Just getting there now,” Samantha answered.
Ellen waited for her to go through the exercise.
“Engine room clear,” she reported.
A huge crack of lightning scared Nick and Ellen and they grinned at each other sheepishly.
“Here comes the next round of weather,” she said.
The boat lurched and they grabbed the table to steady themselves.
Mitch’s voice came through Ellen’s earpiece. “I think you’re staying there riding this one out, agreed?”
“Yes boss, agreed,” she answered.
Samantha rejoined them, gripping anything she could along the way.
Ellen looked around for the best place to wait it out, and glanced upon a hatch door. She waved to get Nick’s attention and pointed to it.
He moved in closer with weapon drawn as Ellen threw open the hatch door. Rolled up in fetal position was Dylan Ting.
“Show your hands,” Ellen ordered drawing her gun. Dylan did not move.
“Show your hands,” she ordered again and Dylan held up his hands. Nick put his gun away, pulled Dylan out of the hatch and pushed him against the wall. He frisked him and restrained his hands with plasticuffs that Samantha offered from her jacket kit.
“Not armed,” Nick declared.
“Mitch, we’ve secured Dylan Ting, and he’s alive. No sign of the missing three.”
“Copy,” Mitch said.
The boat reeled as a huge wave slapped the side and the three agents and Dylan fell across the floor.
Ellen looked up for loose items, but there was nothing around and the table was bolted to the floor.
Nick propped Dylan Ting against the kitchen wall and they settled securely on the floor to wait it out.
“Where’s Ru? Where’s the rest of the crew?” Nick asked.
“Ru …” Dylan shrugged.
“What’s going on, Dylan?” Ellen asked.
Dylan laughed. “What’s going on?”
“Yes,” Nick snapped.
Dylan glanced away.
“Where is Ru? Where are the other two that were onboard, Dylan? The Villiers, where are they?” Ellen asked again.
Dylan looked skyward. “They’re with the VIP,” he said.
“So they’re dead?” Nick prodded him.
“No, they’re together,” he said again. “Where’s Mitchell?”
“Never you mind,” Ellen said. She slid forward, reached towards him and grabbed Dylan’s jaw. She looked into his eyes, felt his pulse and slid back across the floor.
“Is he high?” Nick asked in a hush tone.
“If he’s not, it’s worse … he’s lost it.” Ellen sighed.
Mitch had just finished cleaning up the deck and listening in on his team when a huge bolt of lightning seemed to explode around him. He quickly checked the area, grabbed a torch and got below deck. It was dark below with the lights blown and eerily quiet; he knew exactly what the term ‘the calm before the storm’ meant. He thought of all the times he had flown and survived without incident and now he was in a tin can on the ocean in the middle of a storm, feeling like he had no control of the situation. Within minutes he heard the sound of rain moving across the ocean and shortly after it slapped down on the deck. The wind began to pick up and he braced himself for another round.
“Ellie,” he said through their shared comms, “I’m going to take the earpiece off. All OK there?”
“Other than being thrown around like a bathtub toy, we’re doing just fine,” she said.
Mitch removed the earpiece and moved through the research vessel, lighting each area with his torch. Everything looked intact but the rolling did not improve Mitch’s seasickness as he gripped tightly to whatever he could reach. He passed through the galley which was a mess—drawers had fallen out with their contents strewn across the area. Seeing Ellen’s stash of gingersnap cookies didn’t help his queasiness and he turned abruptly, making his way to the cabin.
The seas began to pound against the windows. At least the other boat is clear and safe, he thought about his three operatives aboard. But where the hell are Ru and the two boat owners?
The wind began to howl, the vessel rolled and Mitch struggled to enter the cabin.
The second storm was worse than the first; the wind screamed, and tower-sized waves pounded the side of the vessel randomly and constantly. With each hit, Mitch waited, expecting the vessel to roll. The height of the swells sent him lurching a few times. Up top, something was wrenched from its fastenings and was flogging up and down the deck. He lowered himself to the floor and braced. Turning the torch off, he wedged it between the bed’s mattress and wall. A huge crack of lightning lit the room, then it returned to black.
He breathed in and out steadily; trying to keep the bile from rising. He heard the huge roar of thunder and waited for the lightning strike. It lit the room and the face of Pan Ru standing in the corner. The vessel was dark again.
Nick secured Dylan so he could weather the storm, but not enough that he couldn’t be moved quickly if the boat went under. The three agents sat beside him, waiting it out.
“This is worse than the last one,” Samantha said after the boat leveled out again.
“I hope Mitch is OK,” Ellen frowned. She studied Dylan.
Is it an act or for real? He doesn’t flinch with the lightning strikes or seem to be worried about the boat rolling. Maybe he is … gone.
“Dylan,” she tried again.
He slowly turned his eyes towards her.
“Where’s Ru?” She raised her voice above the roaring wind.
“Ru,” he said.
“Yes, Pan Ru, you came here together. Where is he?”
“He’s with Mitchell.”
Nick rolled his eyes. “He was with the VIP last time we asked, now he’s with Mitch.”
Ellen and Nick realized something at the same time and they stared at each other.
“I’ll check,” Nick said. He edged himself along, stopping to brace as the boat hit the water hard, then continued.
Ellen watched him leave and turned back to Dylan.
“Where are the owners of this boat, Dylan?” Ellen asked.
“They’re with whoever you believe in … God, Allah, Buddha …” He laughed.
Samantha and Ellen exchanged looks.
Nick stumbled back in. “One of the lifeboats is missing and it was here when we arrived. I’ve got to …”
“You can’t go Nick, it’s too dangerous,” Ellen cut him off.
“He’s not expecting Ru and he’s not up to it,” Nick said.
“He is always expecting something and he’s up to it. You can’t go in the middle of this, you’ll never make it.” As she spoke the boat lurched dangerously on its side. Nick slipped and hit the wall.
“We have to do something,” Samantha said.
“Yes,” Ellen ordered. “We wait.”
Mitch leaped to his feet; Pan Ru, on board! The vessel was pitch black as he groped for the torch and tried to listen over the sound of the storm for Ru approaching. He whirled around, sensing him near and felt the strike of the man’s hand on his shoulder, Mitch hit back at throat level, making impact. The boat lurched and both men sprawled—Ru across the cabin floor, Mitch back against the iron frame of the bunk. He swore and dropped to the ground.
He felt along the edge of the bed, looking for his bunk, his backpack and the jacket with his gun in it. Lightning lit the room again and on seeing him, Ru charged towards Mitch with a large hunting knife. In the flicker of two lightning bolts, Ru was on him. Mitch struggled with his assailant. The knife was inches from his neck.
They were matched in strength, but Mitch had a height advantage. He wrestled with Ru, using all the strength he could muster. Ru yelled like a man possessed and plunged the knife again towards Mitch. Struggling free, Mitch got his boot to Ru’s abdomen and pushed him off. The pain from Mitch’s leg injury shot up his spine and for a few seconds he felt himself blacking out.
Ru disappeared from sight. Mitch grabbed for his jacket and withdrew his gun. As he spun around, Ru was within inches of him.
“Don’t move,” the man hissed. “The blade is positioned near your artery, so you could bleed to death in minutes.”
Mitch braced and hoped Ru was doing the same. If the boat lurched, he could be history. He tried to move his arm but it was pinned to his side and the gun along with it.
“What do you want?” Mitch asked.
“I want you to call off the dogs and let me slip back out of the country,” Ru answered.
“So you’ve given this some thought,” Mitch said.
Ru pushed the blade closer to Mitch’s skin.
Another wave pounded the boat and Ru gripped onto Mitch tightly from behind. The boat steadied.
“Why? What went wrong?” Mitch asked.
“Nothing.” He felt the young man stiffen. “It all went exactly to plan.”
Mitch prepared his plan in his head and calmed himself to muster all the force he could. He waited patiently as Ru listed what he wanted and how it was to be done.
A bright, jagged streak of lighting lit the vessel and the moment it began to lurch, Mitch pushed back, grabbing Ru’s arm away from his own neck. He spun around and thrust the gun against Ru’s throat, pinning Ru’s knife-wielding arm to the wall. He shoved his weight against the Asian man, breathing heavily with the adrenaline and pain.
“Drop the knife.”
Ru held onto it.
“You don’t want to push me because I’ve had a very bad week,” Mitch said.
Ru opened his fingers and the knife rattled to the floor. Mitch spun the man around, wedging his arm up his back. After putting his gun down, Mitch reached for ties from his backpack. He secured Ru’s hands, spun him round and dropped him to the floor. He grabbed more ties and secured him to the bunk bed frame.
“What if we capsize?” Ru looked alarmed.
“I’ll try and remember to cut you free,” Mitch said with a glance to Ru’s knife which had slid under the bunk. He rubbed his neck and looked at the blood on his hands. He swore, stumbled out of the room to the vessel’s head and rinsed his neck. Not deep enough to worry about, he decided. He gripped onto the basin as the boat lurched again.
“Fucking be over!” he yelled as the boat lurched again. He stumbled back to Ru and dropped down opposite him. Mitch studied the young man’s face. He leaned forward, clasping his hands.
“What’s going to happen to me?” Ru asked.
“Depends on your story and whether you cooperate. Start talking anytime you like; seems those English lessons have worked a treat.”
Ru declined to speak. A huge boom of thunder rocked the vessel and then the rain began to pour in earnest.
Mitch lost all semblance of patience, he yelled above the noise. “For chrissake … you’re a spy, how many on the team?”
“Bravo,” Ru grinned, “you found out. There’s just me here, a few more behind the scenes. How many on your team?”
Mitch ignored the question. “You were never going to let that mission go ahead … how long have you been on this?”
Ru inhaled, his chest swelling with pride. “Years, from the moment William Ying applied for the ambassadorship here. I might look young, but this has been four years of my life.”
“So who exactly do you work for?” Mitch asked. He gripped the bed frame as the boat lurched again.
“It doesn’t matter who I work for or who I am, it has all gone to plan.”
“Except you’re here and you want me to get you out of the country,” Mitch said. “I’ve known who you are from the very start despite the cop alias. What happened to the plan?”
“It went to plan,” Ru insisted.
“Yeah, then why are you here and everyone else is dead?”
“That was the plan. It’s going to plan. You don’t understand.”
“No I don’t,” Mitch agreed. “Explain it to me. From day one you have been an insider, a spy on their team. They were oblivious?”
“Of course. I’m very good at what I do,” Ru snapped. “I had total control of all their communications and in their eyes, I towed the line as the humble junior.”
“So every message they sent, every test was a fake?”
“It was very real … I had agents sending back confirmations,” Ru said. “They were just my people, not theirs. None of Danny, William or Hai’s commands were ever going to come to fruition.”
The boat lurched and Ru closed his eyes and swallowed.
Mitch waited until the boat settled again.
“But we saw the sub, we saw the air bubbles at the trial,” Mitch said.
Ru grinned. “The first test failed. You probably got that in your intel. It didn’t fail of course, I just didn’t organize it … I’m not wasting budget on that. The second test, I hired a local sub. We, like you, have people everywhere. The sub came in, did the job, got out. Danny was happy and so was the ‘Beijing office’ or so I told Danny.”
“You could have saved the cops … if you knew what was going to happen to them, why couldn’t you just fake their death?” Mitch asked.
“It’s so hard to know who is really on your side. I couldn’t risk word getting out and the mission being shut down,” Ru said.
“So life is not worth much in your world?” Mitch said.
“Your people just killed your Vice President and William Ying. Couldn’t you fake their deaths?”
Mitch stopped. Ru was right, Mitch couldn’t take the moral high ground.
The two men sat in silence for some time as the storm calmed down.
“How were you going to let it play out?” Mitch asked.
“Much the same way as it did except they would have all been killed and disposed of at the VIP house—there’s plenty of woods around there. I would have drowned the Vice President and let his body float to shore so it looked like an accident. Your people and our people would be none the wiser. Isn’t that ideal?”