“Maybe fifteen nautical miles, give or take, assuming the rescue crews don’t spot us — which they shouldn’t in all this fog — and we can hold a steady course.”
Gavin looked around at the choppy water that was now causing the Avatar to surge up and down as well as back and forth back as Lanyard tried to keep her on course. “Fifteen miles? In a bloody twelve-foot dinghy? Are you mad? We’ll be lucky if we make a half-mile before we’re swamped.”
“May not have to find out how lucky we are if we can baby the engines on this gal and keep her afloat for another — ”
A red light began flashing on the control panel.
“Oh bloody hell, we just lost another pump. Only the two back-ups operating now, and they sound like they’re on their last legs,” Lanyard muttered as he watched the gauges for a few more seconds, and then sighed. “Well, Jack me lad, it looks like it’s going to be the dinghy or a long swim. No way in creation we’re going to get this gal into Malaysian waters before the water starts washing over her bow. And I don’t really fancy the idea of swimming alongside a bloke who’s leaving a chum trail for the sharks to follow.”
Holding onto a rail for balance, Gavin looked back at the rescue patrol boat lights — now only glowing pinpoints in the fog that hovered over the dark choppy water — and the erratic wake being produced by the struggling yacht.
“Okay, the dinghy it is, as long as we bring along a couple of buckets for bailing,” Gavin agreed reluctantly. “I don’t fancy being in that water at night either, bleeding or not; and I’ll be damned if we’re going to be the reason Wallis has to fly into Thai air space. Piss him off right proper, we would, if we got him shot down by the bloody Thai Air Force.”
“Yeah, he’s got enough to be pissed about already,” Lanyard agreed.
“You mean the Avatar?” Gavin looked around the shattered bridge. “Come on, mate, she’s a good old broad, but no great loss. He was going to leave her to Kai anyway.”
“No, I mean that,” Lanyard said, pointing to a dark-stained burlap bag lying on the deck in the far stern corner of the bridge that looked like it might contain the better part of a freshly-killed chicken.
“And that is?”
“You do remember the Clouded Leopard carcass we stashed in the fish freezer, where we figured it was going to be safe?
“I do. What about it?” Gavin stared at the stained and lumpy bag with a growing sense of foreboding.
“Thanks to that bastard Kai, and his bloody big fifty, that’s all we’ve got left — of the big bits, anyway.”
CHAPTER 16
Off Tanga Island Cove
It had taken the better part of Bulatt’s remaining strength to tow Colonel Kulawnit over to the low-lying outboard, pull the two lifeless and shattered bodies of Kai’s men into the water, and then shove the unconscious colonel up and into the boat.
He was in the process of pulling himself in, holding onto the splintered railing and trying not to swamp the low-riding boat, when he felt the pressure wave of something big coming fast beneath the boat.
“Shit!” Bulatt cursed reflexively even as his survival instincts found new reserves of energy to help him twist, yank and propel himself up and into the boat just as a huge tiger shark struck at the nearest of the floating bodies a few inches from his flailing feet. The impact of the thick dorsal fin — and then the massive thrashing tail — against the boat’s keel jarred it sideways, forcing Bulatt to grab desperately at the opposite railing to keep himself and Kulawnit from being tossed back into the water.
For a few seconds, the water around the boat churned madly as a second and third shark fought over the carcasses. Then, finally, the water surface grew relatively still, allowing Bulatt to release his grip on the railing and Kulawnit, catch his breath, re-adjust his night-vision goggles, and then examine the colonel’s wounds.
Finally convinced that he’d gotten most of the bleeding stopped with the bandage from Kulawnit’s vest pouch, Bulatt rose up on his knees, trying not to rock the shallow-beamed boat any more than necessary, then waved and yelled — to no avail — at the patrol rescue boat that was some hundred yards and barely visible in the growing fog as the crew continued to search for Rangers from the crashed Blackhawk.
Got to get over there before they decide to take off and leave us here, Bulatt thought grimly as he looked around for something he could use as a paddle. To his dismay, the only thing he could find was a torn and jagged piece of the outboard engine cowling that was roughly nine inches square.
After staring out at the deceptively calm dark water for a few moments, Bulatt crawled over to Kulawnit, pulled the 9mm pistol out of his vest holster again, loaded a fresh magazine, aimed it upward, started to pull the trigger, and then hesitated.
No, better not, he told himself. They see gunfire coming from one of these outboards, they’ll probably fire back with everything they’ve got, including the deck gun, and then come over to scoop up the pieces.
Sighing in resignation, Bulatt picked up the torn piece of aluminum cowling by the one non-jagged edge with his left hand, adjusted his grip on the pistol, cautiously moved forward to the bow of the low-riding boat, leaned forward so that his chest and right arm were braced against the bow railing, hesitated, dug his left hand deep into the water in a single hard stroke, and then quickly pulled his hand out of the water.
The boat moved slightly forward and to the left.
That’s right, gotta use a ‘J’ stroke, just like they taught us at the training center, or I’m going to be going around in a big circle.
Steeling himself, Bulatt dug the piece of cowling deep into the water again, only this time in a ‘J’ stroke pattern, and saw with satisfaction that the outboard was now drifting more-or-less in the direction of the distant patrol boat lights.
Okay, just another fifty or sixty strokes. No problem.
Bulatt started to dig his hand deep into the water a third time when he felt the pressure wave suddenly surge up against the piece of cowling and barely managed to pull his hand away when the massive head of the huge tiger shark came lunging up out of the water beneath his fingers, the powerful jaws snapping at empty air. An instant later, the underside of the shark’s huge head crashed down on the boat’s already splintered railing, propelling Bulatt’s head forward and into the shark’s blunt sandpaper-like nose.
The night-vision goggles absorbed most of the impact, the lens scraping against the rasp-like skin as the goggles were ripped away from Bulatt’s face. Blinded now in the almost total darkness, he desperately shoved himself away from the thrashing shark’s head and snapping jaws; and then felt the recoil of the Beretta — and heard the concussive gunshots — before he even realized he was shooting.
The 9mm hollow-points ripped into the nose and gaping mouth of the fearsome-looking beast; its nightmarish black eye and glistening teeth intermittently visualized by the blinding gun-flashes.
Then, suddenly, the upper torso of the huge shark was completely visible — bathed in a brilliant overhead light — as it whipped its head away from the bullet impacts, jarring and nearly swamping the boat again, and then swung back in an instinctive and unrelenting attempt to reach its human prey.
Stunned by the horrific sight of the huge beast, whose jaws were snapping only inches away from his deflecting left hand and feet, Bulatt continued to fire as fast as he could pull the trigger, sending the last three bullets ripping into the shark’s left eye and brain as the Beretta’s slide locked open against the now-empty magazine.
Working on instinct and adrenaline now, Bulatt scrambled back to the rear of the violently rocking boat on his hands and knees, ejecting the empty magazine somewhere along the way, yanked another loaded magazine out of Kulawnit’s vest, slammed it into the Beretta’s grip, released the slide, and then whipped the pistol around, searching for the nightmarish creature.
But there was nothing on the rain-splattered surface; just the violent swirling of water a dozen yards away.
Go to it, guys, tear him apart, Bulatt thought, gasping for breath and silently cheering on the other sharks as he continued to stare at the churning surface. It was only when he finally managed to catch his breath that he realized he was still being bathed in a dazzling white light.
