Treasure Of Khan - Part 60
Library

Part 60

A mile away, the low-riding catamaran skirted into the cove under a black nighttime sky. Dirk and Dahlgren resumed their p.r.o.ne positions on the surfboards and paddled their way along the high rocky sh.o.r.eline. Spotting a shallow ledge just above the water level, they ground the boat beneath a nearly vertical wall of lava. Dirk stood and eyed the bright lights of the nearby drill ship, then dismantled the mast and sail to improve their stealth profile.

The two men sat and rested as they studied the ship, spent from their long day on the water. They were close enough to see a dozen or so men scurrying about the derrick on the illuminated stern deck. They watched as a tall tripod device was lowered through the deck into the water.

"Do you think they're actually trying to drill through the lava to get to the wreck?" Dahlgren postulated.

"Can't imagine what they would expect to recover that way."

The two men downed their supply of food and water and stretched their tired limbs. Slightly refortified, they were contemplating a plan of attack when a low-pitched rumble sounded near the ship. It was a m.u.f.fled noise, as if emitted from deep within the ship or beneath it.

"What the Sam Hill was that?" Dahlgren drawled.

"Underwater explosion?" Dirk muttered. He looked at the water surface surrounding the ship, antic.i.p.ating a rising burst of spray and bubbles, but nothing appeared. The surface water in the cove showed barely a ripple.

"Odd that it didn't affect the water. Must have come from within the ship," he said.

"Doesn't seem to be causing any excitement aboard," Dahlgren replied, noting that the deck crew had mostly disappeared and that the ship appeared calm. "How's about we take a closer look?"

They started to drag the catamaran back into the water when a second m.u.f.fled boom erupted. Like the first, it made no impact to the waters in the middle of the cove. As the two men contemplated the strange detonation, a new, more thunderous noise began rumbling beneath their feet. The noise rose up as the ground began shaking violently, nearly knocking them off balance. Small chunks of loose lava and debris began raining down from the steep cliff face above them.

"Watch out!" Dirk shouted, spotting a nearby boulder break free and slide toward them. The two men barely dove out of the way as the rock rolled past them and over a corner of the catamaran before splashing into the water.

The ground vibrated for several more seconds before fading away. A few frothy waves stirred up by the earthquake slapped violently against the cliffside, then the waters of the cove fell calm.

"I thought the whole cliffside was going to drop on us," Dahlgren said.

"Might well yet," Dirk replied, eyeing the towering wall of lava warily. "Let's not hang around to find out."

Dahlgren stared toward the drill ship. "They created that earthquake," he said matter-of-factly. "It was triggered by the detonation."

"Let's hope it was accidental. They must be trying to rip up the lava field to get to the wreck."

"They can have it. Let's find Summer and get out of here before they bring the whole island down on our heads."

They quickly threw the catamaran in the water and shimmied aboard. quietly paddling away from the rocks, they moved cautiously toward the drill ship. Dahlgren eyed the board in front of him and noticed that the tip was flattened to the thickness of a pancake.

He didn't have the heart to tell Dirk it was his surfboard that was smashed by the falling rock.

-48-

SUMMER SAT AT THE wheelhouse chart table contemplating a possible means of escape when the first acoustic blast was triggered. The m.u.f.fled thump sounded directly beneath the ship, and she a.s.sumed like Dirk that it was some sort of explosion. The criminals must be trying to blast the lava off the wreck, she figured.

Bull Neck stared at her malevolently from across the table, baring a thin smile at the look of confusion and anger in Summer's face. His tobacco-stained teeth glared wider when a second underwater blast reverberated through the bridge a few minutes later.

Though Summer was repulsed by her captors, she became intrigued by their actions. Resorting to murder and wanton destruction of the wreck site meant they thought there was something of great value in her holds. Summer recalled Tong's interest in the porcelain plate and its possible royal markings. But he was interested in something more than pottery if he was blasting away lava to reach it. Gold or gemstones must their objective, she surmised.

As the second shock sent a slight vibration through the bridge, her thoughts turned again to escape. Getting off the ship was the first order of business if she was to have any chance at survival. Summer was a strong swimmer. If she could get into the water, she could easily make it to the rocky rim of the cove. Moving inland or down the coast would be no picnic, given the steep and jagged sh.o.r.eline, but perhaps she could simply hide in the rocks until the Mariana Explorer returned. Whatever the difficulties, it was a better prospect than a continued voyage with the ship of thugs.

Alone on the bridge with just the helmsman and her brutish escort might be the best chance she got, she decided. The helmsman appeared to be little threat. He was nearly a boy, slight in stature and had a subservient look about him. He continually gawked at the six-foot-tall Summer as if she were Aphrodite.

She turned her attention to Bull Neck across the table. That's where the trouble lay. Violence was clearly no stranger to the brute with bad teeth. He had a look about him that said he would enjoy hurting a pretty woman and she shuddered at the thought. She would have to take him at his own game, but at least potentially she had the element of surprise on her side.

Mustering up the nerve, she finally told herself it was now or never. Rising slowly from the table, she casually strode toward the front of the bridge as if stretching her legs and admiring the black view out the window. Bull Neck immediately mimicked her movements, stopping a few feet behind her.

Summer lingered a moment, taking a deep breath to relax, then turned toward the portside bridge wing. With a long stride, she quickly paced toward the open door as if catching an elevator. The guard immediately grunted at her to stop but she ignored the command. Striding light on her feet, she nearly made it out the door. The surprised thug jostled to catch up, bounding forward and placing a grimy hand on Summer's shoulder to stop her. The speed of her counter reaction surprised even herself.

Fully antic.i.p.ating his lunge, she reached up and grabbed the man's wrist with both of her hands. She immediately spun to the side while shoving his wrist up and jamming his open palm backward toward the ground. Summer then backed into the man a step and dropped to one knee. The thug antic.i.p.ated the attempted judo drop and hopped to the side, but she had him in a pain-inducing wristlock and could snap the bone with a flick of her hands. The angered man flailed with his free arm to strike Summer, but his blows lacked any leverage, only bruising her on the back. In response, she rose back to her feet and drove the heavier man backward with another twist to his hand. The man gasped in agony and flailed at Summer uselessly with his left arm. But the searing pain was too much and he finally staggered back. He crashed into the forward console near the helm, then fell to his knees incapacitated. As long as Summer maintained her grip, the burly thug was helpless.

A red light quickly flashed on the console as a slight shudder vibrated from the bowels of the ship. In his collision with the helm, Bull Neck had fallen against a b.u.t.ton that deactivated the automatic ship thrusters, releasing them for manual control. The young helmsman, shocked at Summer's physical dominance over the larger man, backed away from the helm but chattered excitedly in Mongolian while pointing at the flashing light. With her heart pounding from the short engagement, Summer took a breath and glanced at the console.

The ship's controls were all inscribed in Mandarin, but beneath the factory markings somebody had taped plastic label translations in English. Summer glanced at the light and read the English translation below, which read, "Manual Thruster Control." An idea quickly chimed in Summer's head.

"Slight change of plans," she muttered to the uncomprehending helmsman. "We're going for a little ride first."

Summer scanned the adjacent controls until spotting a pair of dials marked PORT THRUSTER FORE and PORT THRUSTER AFT. She reached over with her free hand and turned the dials down to zero. Almost simultaneously, a third burst erupted beneath them as the acoustic array was triggered again. The blast was good timing, Summer considered. The eruption masked the sound of the changing thrusters. With luck, the crew might not notice that the ship was now moving laterally across the cove. It would take only a few minutes until the ship would collide with the lava rocks lining the cove. The ensuing confusion ought to give her ample opportunity to escape.

"Back off," she barked at the nervous helmsman, who had crept closer to the controls. The young man jumped back from the helm, eyeing with fright the twisted look of agony on Bull Neck's face.

The drill ship moved quietly and smoothly across the cove, pushed evenly by the bank of starboard thrusters. Summer thought she heard a minor clunk near the waterline, but the ship continued on its sideways path through the dark, the black night offering little in the way of visibility. If she could just hold on a little longer, she thought, as her grip on the thug's hand grew weary.

She nervously counted the seconds, waiting for the grinding impact of the ship's hull against lava. But her heart sank when a different sound emerged from the open doorway. It was the sound of a man's voice.

"What is this, now?" the voice grumbled.

Turning with dread, she saw it was Tong. And in his hand, he held an automatic pistol aimed at Summer's heart.

-49-

THEY HAD KICKED and paddled the mastless catamaran to within a hundred yards of the drill ship, circling in toward the port bow in order to avoid the glaring spotlights that illuminated the stern deck. As they scanned the ship for nearby crewmen or lookouts, Dahlgren suddenly leaned toward Dirk and whispered.

"Take a look at the bridge. Quick."

Dirk glanced up at the ship's forward superstructure. Through the open side wing door, he caught a brief glance of a person stepping by. A tall person with flowing red hair that fell beneath the shoulders.

"Summer."

"I'm sure it is her," Dahlgren said.