"Okay. We are six hundred feet long, so I would propose you approach us on our starboard side. I'll slow down to three knots and you can come about and run on our lee side about three hundred feet away. I'll need to keep three knots on to maintain steerage."

"We have a fifteen-foot hard-bottom Zodiac that we can easily launch. We'll transfer to your vessel on your starboard side."

"We will lower a pilot ladder."

"I will bring what I need to treat a spontaneous pneumothorax. Have you any anesthetics?"

"Only topical. We have sterilization equipment, an administration kit, and a catheterization kit."

"Captain, have the cath kit and administration kit ready but don't open them. I should be onboard the Great Princess Great Princess in two and a half to three hours." in two and a half to three hours."

"Roger."

17.

Phillip sat listening to the radiophone in the engine room of the Coincidence Coincidence, not quite thirty miles southeast of the Great Princess Great Princess.

He waited until the Great Princess Great Princess had left the area, then waited an hour longer for good measure. He had not told Stefano his plan. He and Juan had agreed it was best not to. The guy was probably too far gone to understand, anyway, he told himself. And if this didn't work out, well ... Best not to tell Stefano. had left the area, then waited an hour longer for good measure. He had not told Stefano his plan. He and Juan had agreed it was best not to. The guy was probably too far gone to understand, anyway, he told himself. And if this didn't work out, well ... Best not to tell Stefano.

He picked up the radio mike.

"Inspiration, Inspiration Inspiration, this is the Coincidence Coincidence, over."

A few moments later Matt, the Inspiration Inspiration's first engineer, turned to Sam, the second engineer.

"Can you believe this?" he said. "We've got another medical emergency call. I don't remember this ever happening before, and now two on the same day. Some guy on a boat called the Coincidence Coincidence. See if you can scare up Dr. Williams again, will you?"

In less than a minute, Elliott Williams was on the radio. Phillip described Stefano's wound as a "puncture wound," and was careful not to mention that it had come from a gunshot.

"It sounds badly infected all right," Dr. Williams said. "He'll need antibiotics right away. Have you any onboard?"

Would I be risking everything by calling you up if we did, a.s.s-hole? Phillip thought.

"No," he said.

"How far away are you?"

"We're about an hour away if we alter course. We have you on our radar. How should we approach?"

"Captain Marzynski will change course and head in your direction. Not much wave action today, but it's still not a good idea to come alongside. Why don't you approach on our port side about a hundred feet off and stop in our lee? Is the patient transportable?"

Phillip hesitated. He sure as h.e.l.l didn't want anyone boarding the Coincidence. Coincidence. Much too risky. Much too risky.

"We believe we can transport him, so we'll bring him to you," he said finally. "I'm not sure how we can get him aboard your vessel, though. Do you have a stretcher that can be lifted aboard?"

"Sounds like I'd better make another house call," Dr. Williams responded. "I'll come to you in our Zodiac."

Within an hour the boats were stopped one hundred feet apart from each other. Phillip told the others to stay out of sight while he dealt with the doctor. Juan didn't like the way the little cabron cabron was taking charge, but he had to admit Phillip would make the most respectable-looking front man, so he let it go. was taking charge, but he had to admit Phillip would make the most respectable-looking front man, so he let it go.

Dr. Williams boarded the Zodiac and, as before, two members of the Inspiration Inspiration crew took him over. They stayed in the dinghy while the doctor climbed aboard with his bag. crew took him over. They stayed in the dinghy while the doctor climbed aboard with his bag.

Dr. Williams was alarmed at Stefano's appearance. His face was a pasty gray, he was soaked with sweat, foul-smelling pus was leaking through the bandages, and he was thrashing from side to side in delirium.

"What happened?" he asked as he began to remove the dressings. He noted the swelling, the shiny, hot flesh, and the red streaks surrounding the wound.

Phillip chose his words carefully.

"Just before we left port, something hit Stefano in the leg. We have no idea what it was. It didn't bleed much and he was able to hobble around. We cleaned him up und and I picked away some pieces of cloth from the area with tweezers and then applied a dressing. He was fine for a couple of days but has been going downhill rapidly since then. What do you think it is?"

Dr. Williams gently wiped away the yellow-green pus with an alcohol pad. Stefano's whole body went rigid and his face contorted with pain. A high-pitched moaning came from between his clenched teeth.

"This man is in serious trouble and needs immediate medical attention. This is an acute missile wound. Was he shot?"

"I told you; we don't know what hit him. I was not aware of any shooting."

"Well, I'm pretty sure this is a bullet wound and that the bullet is still in his leg. Obviously it didn't hit a bone and it didn't hit the femoral artery. It must have embedded itself in muscle tissue; that's why it didn't bleed much. In a way that's too bad, because the bleeding would have flushed out any debris.

"My guess is that the bullet took some of the cloth from his pants into the wound. Dirt on the pants introduced pathogens, and we now have a pretty bad infection. This man needs attention right now. If he doesn't get it, gangrene will set in and he will lose his leg."

"Okay. Do whatever you have to do."

"There isn't anything I can do to help him. He needs to be in a hospital. He needs a general anesthetic and a surgeon to get the bullet out. He needs to have a drainage tube inserted to get the pus out of the wound and he needs antibiotics right now. I'll use the satellite phone and talk to a doctor at the coastal station to see if there is any way this man can be evacuated. It has to happen quickly, otherwise he'll lose his leg. If he doesn't die first."

"But wouldn't he be better off if you did it yourself right now? I mean, surely you have the equipment and supplies on the Inspiration Inspiration."

The doctor shook his head as he gathered up the soaked dressings and tossed them in the trash.

"You don't understand. Even if we had everything we need onboard, which we do not, I'm not an anesthesiologist and I am not a surgeon."

He squirted some antiseptic wash on his hands and rubbed them together briskly.

There was no way Phillip was going to let anyone on sh.o.r.e know about the injury. That would jeopardize everything. He thought for a moment, then said, "You must have had some some training in medical school for situations like this." training in medical school for situations like this."

What was the matter with the man? the doctor wondered. Did he not understand the danger his friend was in? Why was he dragging his feet? He mustered as much patience as he could, but there was still a sharp edge to his voice.

"Certainly, I've a.s.sisted in this kind of operation, but a.s.sisting and doing are not the same thing. I'm going to get hold of the coastal station right now and see what we can do to save this man's life."

Phillip saw that he had run out of options. Pulling his gun from the inside pocket of his jacket, he said, "I'm sorry, Doctor. I can't allow you to do that. You are going to do whatever you have to do to save Stefano's life. You're going to do it right now. Your life is in the balance. So what's your plan?"

Doctors are trained to remain calm in panic situations. His first duty, Williams thought, was to the students on the Inspiration. Inspiration. One wrong move on his part would endanger them all. His second duty was to do the best he could to save this man Stefano, whoever he was. Performing surgery on his own with inadequate training and supplies would have to do. One wrong move on his part would endanger them all. His second duty was to do the best he could to save this man Stefano, whoever he was. Performing surgery on his own with inadequate training and supplies would have to do.

"I don't understand what's happening here and maybe I don't want to, but I've got a ship full of students that I'm responsible for and I can't do anything to put them at risk. What happens to the Inspiration Inspiration and the crew when it's over? You've got to guarantee they won't come to any harm." and the crew when it's over? You've got to guarantee they won't come to any harm."

"Doctor, you are in no position to negotiate. I have no idea what will happen to your boat if you pull Stefano through. What I do do know is that if you refuse to treat him, you'll be feeding the fish. So let's go one step at a time, and let's start right now." know is that if you refuse to treat him, you'll be feeding the fish. So let's go one step at a time, and let's start right now."

"All right. I'll give Stefano a shot of antibiotics. But we would be much better off doing the surgery on the Inspiration Inspiration; she's much bigger and much more stable than this boat. I'm going to need all the help I can get. Can we at least move him to my first aid room?"

Phillip hadn't bargained on this. He would have preferred keeping the whole operation right there on the Coincidence Coincidence, not getting the other boat involved at all. Just a quick patch-up from the doctor and they'd be on their way again, no one the wiser, that was the idea. And how did he know this doctor wouldn't try something heroic as soon as he was back on the Inspiration Inspiration?

Still, if Stefano's chances were better on the more stable boat, how could he refuse? And the doctor did seem anxious about the kids-d.a.m.n! Why did there have to be that that complication? The only doctor in this part of the entire ocean, and he had to come with a boat full of kids. complication? The only doctor in this part of the entire ocean, and he had to come with a boat full of kids.

Yet maybe they could be an a.s.set, after all, these kids. Phillip considered himself a pretty good judge of character. The doctor wasn't going to take any chances where the kids were concerned, he was sure of that. In fact, it was a sure bet that n.o.body could stomach the thought of any harm coming to kids. Well, n.o.body except Juan, maybe.

"Okay," he said. "Give him the shot and then we'll go to the bridge and you can radio your captain."

Dr. Williams radioed the captain while Phillip told the others of the plan. They were to arm themselves with handguns but keep them out of sight. When the boats were tied together, he told them, he wanted them all to go onboard the Inspiration Inspiration. They were to keep their mouths shut, stay alert, and not make any trouble-but if trouble came, they were to be ready to shoot.

Juan was beginning to boil over at the way Phillip had suddenly become the self-appointed leader of the team; he was getting way too c.o.c.ky for his own good. He still said nothing, though. He'd take care of the little b.a.s.t.a.r.d later.

Henry and several Floaties put fenders on the port side of the Inspiration Inspiration and made ready to take the lines of the and made ready to take the lines of the Coincidence Coincidence. Polo and Esteban put fenders on the starboard side of the Coincidence Coincidence; Severo manned the docking lines. Phillip quickly maneuvered the boat alongside. The lines were made fast, with the Zodiac still tied to the transom.

Phillip and the doctor climbed aboard the Inspiration. Inspiration. Most of the Floaties were finished with cla.s.ses for the afternoon, and had come on deck to see what was going on. Most of the Floaties were finished with cla.s.ses for the afternoon, and had come on deck to see what was going on.

"Must be something really serious with the guy in this boat," Pierre said to Melissa. He had never seen the doctor looking so grave.

The students watched as Phillip, Dr. Williams, and Captain Marzynski conferred for a moment, then strode toward the captain's quarters. But they were soon distracted as Henry lowered a stretcher and Stefano was hauled up. He was strapped in securely, but was pitching himself around with such force it was all they could do to keep hold of the stretcher.

Pierre and Evan helped carry him to the first aid room. When Dr. Williams came in he asked them to leave, which they were glad to do. The man smelled awful.

"Do you suppose it's something terribly contagious and that's why everyone's looking so grim and acting so weird?" Melissa asked.

That would explain a lot, the Floaties agreed. But then why wasn't he wearing a mask? And why would the doctor have allowed anyone close to him?

The doctor, meanwhile, cut off Stefano's pants and took a closer look at the wound. The Inspiration Inspiration's first aid room was well stocked for any of the complaints likely to befall healthy people on a long ocean voyage-seasickness, of course, plus colds, cuts, splinters, bruises, sc.r.a.pes, strains, sprains, and even a simple broken bone. But it was not intended to be a floating hospital, and it had none of the heavy-duty anesthetics needed for surgery.

Dr. Williams had no way to put Stefano to sleep. He could freeze the wound itself, but that would require putting a needle into the infected area, which would risk spreading the infection.

He went to the drug cabinet in the hope of finding something that he could use to dull the man's pain. It was a shame the BWA's zero-tolerance rule on alcohol precluded the professional staff from having any booze onboard; he couldn't even give Stefano a stiff drink to take the edge off while he extracted the bullet. Unless ... unless maybe Mac had a wee flask stashed somewhere in his locker. He wouldn't be surprised if he did.

But what was this? Reaching into the far back of the meds cabinet, he pulled out a bottle of Diprivan, a fairly new anesthetic often used in outpatient procedures because of its tendency to wear off quickly. According to the instructions, he'd need to supplement it with an intravenous a.n.a.lgesic agent. He rummaged through the cabinet and finally came up with a container of Etomidate. That would do. It would have to.

Normally, at least three people would be involved in this kind of operation: a surgeon, a nurse, and an anesthetist. Dr. Williams was going to have to do everything himself, with Phillip as his only a.s.sistant. Phillip had insisted on staying in the room the entire time, and would allow no one else in, even though both the captain and Henry had at least some medical training and Phillip had none. If he was a.s.sisting, he'd have to put the gun down, and that would be a plus.

"All right, let's get started," Dr. Williams said. He spoke directly to Stefano, although he hadn't much hope the man could understand what he was saying. At least he was quieter now.

"I'm going to put a b.u.t.terfly valve in your wrist so that I can start a saline drip. I'll also use it to administer an anesthetic called Diprivan. That will put you to sleep."

The doctor set up the IV pole. He scrubbed his hands, pulled on pair of latex gloves, then nodded to Phillip to do the same.

"While you're out, I'll use a small pair of forceps to remove the bullet and then flush out the wound with a saline solution to try and remove any debris left behind. When that's done, I'll insert a small catheter to allow the wound to drain, apply a dressing, and that's it, we're done. Within a couple of hours you should be awake and on the way to recovery."

He glanced over at Phillip, then continued.

"That's a.s.suming that everything goes well. You've got to remember I've never done this before. I'm not trained to do it, but I'll do my best for you."

While the doctor was operating, the captain called all of the staff and students to a meeting in the mess hall. Polo and Severo stood silently on two sides of the room, their eyes roaming over the crowd, looking for the slightest hint of trouble. Esteban was keeping watch near the first aid room.

Captain Marzynski looked out at his crew and his students and listened as words he had never imagined having to utter came, somehow, from his mouth.

The men onboard, he said, were armed. Every command they made was to be carried out. Without question. The injured man was undergoing an operation. When it was over, they would, he hoped, return to their own boat and let the Inspiration Inspiration resume its course to Easter Island. In the meantime, he was asking for-no, he was resume its course to Easter Island. In the meantime, he was asking for-no, he was commanding commanding-everyone's complete cooperation. Under no circ.u.mstances was anyone to try to be a hero.

There was stunned silence for a few seconds, then a buzz of voices as they all struggled to come to grips with what was happening. Armed men? Operation? So there was no deadly tropical contagion, then, after all, to put their lives in danger. Oh-but their lives were still very much in danger.

They lined up, the students first, then the teachers, then the crew, as Polo took their names and cabin numbers. From that point on, everyone onboard ship was to be accounted for at all times.

Everyone onboard ship, that is. Dave Cameron looked at the crew as they stood at the end of the line, waiting to give Polo their information. And again, just in case he had miscounted. No. Everyone Everyone onboard was supposed to be at the meeting; the captain's orders had been clear. But someone was not there. onboard was supposed to be at the meeting; the captain's orders had been clear. But someone was not there.

Where was Mac?

18.

Dave Cameron's mind was racing. If Mac wasn't with the rest of them in the mess, where was he? Did he even know what was going on? Did anyone else realize he was missing? Surely the captain or Henry would have noticed. Their captors could not have known, of that he was pretty certain. They'd have no way of knowing who was supposed to be aboard until they finished taking down the names and cabin numbers. And would the hijackers know of the bosun's locker?

a.s.suming no one else had noticed Mac's absence yet, what were the chances that it would stay a secret until he could warn them all how important it was to keep it that way? Because, it occurred to him, a secret person onboard could be a valuable thing. Extremely valuable.

It seemed to be taking a ridiculously long time for the man to take down their names. The other guy, Phillip, the one who'd done all of the talking, must be the brains behind the operation, Dave thought. The others did whatever he told them, and didn't seem to speak much English.

Finally, all of the students had given the skinny guy their information. One by one they left the mess. Outside on deck they walked alone or in small huddled groups, saying little. Melissa held Pierre's hand as if she intended never to let it out of her grip again.

The teachers and crew stood solemnly as well, most looking down or at the wall or anywhere except at one another, as they waited their turns. Dave kept trying to catch the captain's eye, but he, too, was looking stonily ahead. At last Dave reached the head of the line, mumbled his name and cabin number, then turned to go. He brushed the captain's arm on the way out, hoping he wouldn't be blown away by a bullet for the gesture. Captain Marzynski, last in the line, looked at him sharply. Dave signaled as best he could, with a subtle nod, that he would meet him outside.

When the captain emerged, they fell into step wordlessly, walking toward the bridge. Severo headed them off as they approached with a furious shaking of his head, his gun in his hand. Phillip had given him orders: No one was to be allowed on the bridge.

They turned and headed for the bow. As soon as they were out of earshot, Dave asked Captain Marzynski about Mac. As Dave had suspected, the captain had realized that Mac was absent, too. He agreed with Dave that this might be their one hope for escaping with their lives. For after all, no matter what Phillip had said about not wanting anyone to get hurt, how could the hijackers just let them go now? They had too much at stake. They had, as far as the captain could see, practically no choice but to kill everyone onboard the Inspiration. Inspiration. If they did not, they risked being charged with piracy, on top of whatever else it was they were up to. Which was-what? If they did not, they risked being charged with piracy, on top of whatever else it was they were up to. Which was-what?

"Drugs, most likely," the captain said. "Their boat is probably stolen, too. Did you notice the sides of the cabin? It's not blue paint but some sort of stick-on material. They've gone to a lot of trouble to disguise the boat. They probably have drugs...o...b..ard. And Dr. W. thinks the injured man has been shot."

Dave tried to get his mind in gear. Surely there was something they could do. And wasn't he the guy who came to the rescue, time after time? But those times, he'd acted on instinct; there was something to be done, he'd done it, he was a hero. And he'd had only himself to think for, if he'd been thinking at all. Now it wasn't just his own neck he'd be risking.

If only he could think of a plan. There were far more of them than there were hijackers ...

The captain had been thinking along the same lines.

"We ought to be able to overpower them somehow. We have the numbers. But they have the weapons. No. We can't take the chance. Not with the kids...o...b..ard."

"But maybe," Dave said, "maybe, with the element of surprise-"