Judith moved down the stairs, forcing herself to take careful steps. In an ironic emotional turn, she felt the urge to throw caution out and simply run to the engine room for all she was worth. Instead, she ignored her emotion and fear-fueled desire and moved as smoothly and quietly as possible.
She had no idea where she was going. She followed instinct and some bit of logic that said the engine room would be in the back of the boat. After all, wouldn’t a designer want to put the engines near the propellers? It made sense to her. To her surprise, she found it faster than expected. Someone had even provided a nice sign that read ENGINE ROOM; probably to keep passengers from entering.
Luke filled her mind. In one sense, he was close, just two decks above; in another sense, he was miles away. Everything he said made sense. Splitting up was the right thing to do but she didn’t like it. If she was going to die today, she’d rather not do it alone and down here.
“Please, God. Let the room be empty.” She turned the doorknob and it twisted easily. She stepped in. Alone. Two large engines filled the small space, one on either side of a metal grate walkway that ran between the noisy behemoths. Closing the door behind her, Judith moved along the metal walk uncertain what to do next. She could feel the steady vibration of the engines through her feet. An aluminum safety rail separated her from the mechanics. She could easily reach over it and assumed they were there to keep a workman from falling from the deck into the rolling seas.
“Now what?” she said, but the noise made it impossible to hear herself. What had Luke said? A person could stop an engine by depriving it of fuel, electricity, or air. She assumed by electricity he meant something like spark plugs. No, diesels didn’t have spark plugs. She heard that somewhere. Nonetheless, they had to have some kind of circuit to run. For the first time in her life, she wished she was a mechanic rather than an interior designer.
She continued to study the stupefying mess of hoses, metal lines, and wires having no idea what any of them did. “This is hopeless.”
Something moved.
The engines rumbled louder and Judith felt herself leaning against the acceleration. They were speeding up and she knew that couldn’t be good. They must have left the bay.
What had moved? A wire. A thick wire — cable might be a better word. It moved and the speed changed. A throttle cable? She studied the cable and the L-shaped metal bracket it was attached to. The cable emerged from a protective sheath and attached to one end of the L-bracket, the other end was attached to a thick spring. They push a lever upstairs, a cable gets pulled down here, and more fuel is sent to the engine. Cut the cable and the spring pulls the L-thingy shut. Maybe. It’s a place to start.
Easy in concept but how could she cut the cable? And if she couldn’t do that, how could she disconnect it? Cutting was preferable; it would take longer to fix. “There’s got to be a toolbox. No one spends millions on a boat like this and not put a few tools on it.”
She found a large red metal tool chest at the back of the room. It was bolted to the deck and bulkhead. It had a dozen drawers. She pulled on one but it didn’t open. Locked. No. She fingered the drawer pull again and jiggled it. Nothing. She pushed it in and then pulled and the drawer slid open easily. I guess it’s not good to have drawers of tools opening by themselves in rough seas.
She found a pair of wire cutters and for a moment thought she could cut the cable but the pliers-like tool seemed too small. She doubted she had the hand strength to pull it off. She needed something bigger. The search continued until she reached the bottom drawer and found a small pair of bolt cutters. They were twelve inches long and had padded handles. They were smaller than she expected but much larger than the wire cutters. They would do.
Judith closed the drawer and returned to the diesels.
“Time to ruin someone’s day.”
Luke would have been happy to hide in the salon head until help arrived, but he had Judith and the kids to think about. Hiding the satchel next to the toilet, Luke slipped from the bathroom, the emergency smoke markers in his pocket. The salon remained empty and he relaxed for a moment. Now to find Judith.
“Where is it?” A horribly familiar voice.
Luke turned to see Pennington, gun in hand.
“Lose something?”
“You’re about to lose your life.” Pennington took a step closer.
“You keep saying stuff like that. No wonder you don’t have friends.”
Pennington chuckled. “I’ve killed quite a few people, and every once in awhile I get someone like you who thinks he’s funny. Now where is it?”
Luke shrugged. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
“The Coast Guard just put out a bulletin for all craft to look for a vessel in distress. It seems they’ve received a signal from an emergency beacon and the GPS signature puts it in our area. I had to tell them that it was a faulty unit.”
“And you feel bad for lying.”
“Not at all, but if I don’t silence the thing, we’ll be paid a visit from some folks I don’t want to see.” Pennington looked at the door to the head. “You stow it in there?”
Luke said nothing.
“Go get it.”
“No, thanks. Do your own retrieving.”
The yacht slowed and the subtle rumble of the engines quieted. Pennington looked puzzled.
“It’s hard to get a good superyacht these days.” Luke started across the salon.
“Don’t move.”
“Shoot me, pal. I’m beyond caring.” Luke strode to the open doors that led to the open deck. He put his hands in his pocket.
A bullet whizzed by his ear followed by the loud report of the gun.
Luke sprinted forward. Another shot.
Judith had made only three steps away from the engine room when the sound of a gunshot pressed its way down to the lower deck. She ran to the stairs, sick with apprehension. As she pushed through the next deck she passed a man in the same white uniform worn by the two who had held them at gunpoint. He ran toward the stairs.
She didn’t hesitate. To do so would put her within reach. No longer concerned about the noise she moved as quickly as she could, feet pounding the stairs.
“Come here!”
Judith ignored him but she did come to a stop the moment she cleared the steps and entered the salon.
Fire?
How the second shot had missed, Luke couldn’t be sure and he felt no compunction to give it much thought. He had other things on his mind. The first smoke signal device ignited on the first try and Luke threw it into the salon. Designed to produce thick, billowy orange smoke the device filled the space, engulfing Pennington. Luke drew another from his pocket, set it off, and tossed it into the dinghy. An orange plume crawled through the air. A quick look told Luke that several ships and sports craft were in sight and if he could see them, they could see smoke.
“Hey!”
Luke spun and saw a uniformed man on the deck of the bridge. He was running to a chrome ladder that spanned the main deck from the upper deck and bridge. Luke removed the third smoke signal stick, struck it, and tossed it at the man, not to hit him, but to give him another problem to deal with.
Coughing to his left made Luke snap around. Pennington ran through the opening and into the clean air. He still held the gun but had yet to spy Luke.
Luke charged.
The man behind Judith emerged, seized her arm, then froze as he saw the orange smoke. “What?”
Judith pulled free, turned, and shoved as hard as she could. The sailor backpeddled two steps and fell back down the circular stairs. She ran through the smoke toward the sunlight and arrived in time to see Luke run by, shoulders lowered. She heard the impact before her mind could process what she saw.
There was a thud, an “oof,” and another thud.
The smoke stung Judith’s eyes and she wiped at them, trying to clear her vision. Eyes still blurry, she could see Luke drive Pennington into the side rail. The man doubled over but for less than a second. He straightened and in the same motion brought a hard backhand across the side of Luke’s head. Luke’s legs looked like rubber but he remained on his feet.
Pennington’s gun came up and leveled at Luke’s head.
“No!”
A thunderous thumping pounded from overhead. Pennington looked up. Judith started to follow his gaze but instead kept it on Luke, who delivered one punch, a punch with every ounce of his weight in it, a punch that struck Pennington on the chin.
Something snapped in Luke’s hand, a knuckle, a finger, something impossible to identify because of the fire that raged up his wrist and arm. Even his shoulder hurt. The pain vanished for a moment as he saw Pennington’s eyes glaze and his knees buckle. He folded to the deck.
“Ow, ow, I broke something … Look out!”
Luke was clutching his wrist when he shouted a warning and pushed her to the side.
The loud pop made Judith duck and cover but she still saw Luke stagger, clutch his stomach, and fall facedown. Blood oozed from him and stained the teak deck.
“Luke! Luke.” She ran to him. Knelt by him.
“Back up, lady.”
Judith didn’t. She struggled to roll him on his back. He coughed. He moaned. She pulled at his shirt.
“I said, back away, lady, or you’ll get the same thing.”
Judith refused to move. Luke’s eyes closed. Waves of sorrow rolled from her.
The thunder continued, louder and louder. The gunman swore.
“Great Divide, this is the U.S. Coast Guard. Lower your gun.”
Judith looked up and saw the white-and-orange Coast Guard helicopter overhead. A motion off the stern also caught her attention. A Coast Guard cutter was bearing down on them. “If you’re going to shoot me, you had better do it now. I think your time just ran out.”
The gunman’s eyes grew cold and he started to raise his weapon.
“And what about the kids,” she added. “You going to kill them? Are you going to be the one who goes down in history as killing two adults and thirteen children?”
“I’m a citizen of Singapore. Your laws don’t apply to me.”
“Wanna bet?”
Three other men appeared on the deck. One surveyed the situation and stepped to the gunman. “Don’t make things worse.” He took the gun.
Judith looked at Luke, bent, buried her face in his chest, and wept.
The darkness around Luke seemed warm. He could hear thunder in the sky and people talking but none of it made sense. He also felt something touch his chest and heard sobbing. Why, he wondered, was Judith so sad? His pain had disappeared.
The darkness got darker.
He was dreaming again. He seldom repeated dreams but the one from last night had returned. He lay on the ground, wounded, and the children stood around him. The dream was blurry this time and filled with noise.
He saw Abel.
Abel smiled.
Luke rose into the air.
The few miles’ trip back on the Coast Guard boat was the longest Judith had ever taken.
What followed were endless questions from the Coast Guard, police, FBI, and others. She answered the best she could, but worry over Luke’s life, the stress of two days of fear and mystery, a beating, and more had fogged her mind. She did the best she could, telling what she knew and revealing what she didn’t. By late evening, with Jim Gaines there to help, she had answered every question, including those asked by San Diego homicide detectives who had driven up to press her for answers.
No charges were brought but every agency said there would be more questions. She didn’t doubt it. The hands of the clock moved past midnight before she made it to the hospital, her swollen face making her look more like patient than visitor. Judith learned that Luke was in surgery.
She waited, Gaines and Terri by her side. Terri had driven in with Gaines and tolerated hours of waiting while Judith endured a seemingly endless interrogation. At the hospital, Judith passed the time listening to Terri tell of all that happened at Find, Inc.
At 2:00 a.m., Judith, against her wishes, fell asleep in her chair.
At 4:00 a.m., she received word that Luke would live but that he had some long days ahead. Judith determined she would make those days as easy as possible.
Then her mind turned to the children.