could ride like that for a long time. Stratton’s insane plan was working, the first part of it at least. A hint of elation rippled through her. She suddenly saw a chance they could be rescued. She couldn’t see what was dragging her, but she knew it had to be some kind of ship. That meant she was in touch with civilisation, be it remotely. All it took to be saved was someone from the ship to see them. It was a small chance, but suddenly a real one.
Stratton had managed to twist around on to his back so that the gushing water didn’t drown him. Which was a far more comfortable way of being towed at speed. The swell bumped against his back and it was like being dragged across a corrugated roof. He had no idea how fast he was going. It felt like he could have water-skied at that speed.
Stratton leaned his head up to look for Lotto’s boat. He could just about see it coming on after him, as he expected it would, the gap between them several hundred metres. He studied the picture, wondering if the pirate boat might be gaining. It was difficult to tell.
He made an effort to look ahead for the bulker but he couldn’t. As he tried to manoeuvre himself to one side, he almost flipped on to his front again. He decided to leave it alone, for the time being at least.
The bumping suddenly increased markedly and he felt himself passing over a set of larger waves. Had to be the bulker’s bow waves. He spread out his arms and legs to make himself a more stable platform. He was drawing in behind the carrier. When he was over the waves, the ride became a lot smoother. He wondered how far he was from the vessel and where the girl might be. He had been five or six hundred metres from the cargo ship when he was on his front. That meant she had to be a good fifteen hundred metres behind him. Well behind the pirates.
He craned up to see the pirate ship cutting across the bow waves and falling into the bulker’s track.
A young British private security guard on the stern of the cargo ship was observing the pirate vessel through a pair of binoculars.
As he watched it cross the bow waves, he raised a radio to his mouth. ‘Bob. That dodgy boat I reported earlier. It’s even more dodgy now. It’s moved in right behind us.’
‘Roger that,’ came the reply over the radio. ‘Sound the alarm. All security hands to the stern. Don’t forget your bloody weapons. You got that, Captain?’
‘Yes, Bob,’ came the captain’s voice over the radio.
The bulker’s alarms began to sound and crewmen working on deck dropped what they were doing, hurried into the ship’s superstructure by the nearest door and bolted it shut. A security guard hurried through the carrier ensuring it was battened down.
‘Full speed, Captain,’ Bob shouted over the radio. ‘Commence evasive action.’
As the stern guard continued to observe the vessel following it, two more security guards stepped from the bulker’s superstructure carrying AK-47 assault rifles. They jogged along the decks and down steps, converging on to the poop deck to join their mate on the rear rail beyond a massive pair of anchor winches. After a couple of minutes the other security guard stepped down to the group. Another joined them. They now made five. The entire bulker vibrated as the engines reached maximum revolutions. A claxon joined in the general cacophony of bells and whistles.
The water directly below the poop deck churned up through the massive submerged propellers to create an even larger wake The carrier began to lean over a little as it started a hard turn.
An overweight, older-looking security guard marched out of the superstructure and across the deck to join the others looking over the rail. By his bearing and confidence, he was clearly the senior man.
‘What we got here then?’ Bob, the head of the security detachment, asked gruffly, grabbing the binoculars hanging around his subordinate’s neck to take a look for himself.
‘You reckon they’re pirates?’ one of the men asked, anxious. Apart from Bob, young guys made up the team, all of whom had military experience of a kind. Two were territorial soldiers who had missed out on any long-term drafts abroad and seen no action at all. One was a former fusilier who had done a basic three years with a short draft to Iraq but seen no action. The other two were ex-Royal Marine drivers and had done a couple of stints in Afghanistan with a little action but nothing to write home about. All had joined the maritime security circuit for two reasons only and they were the pay and a chance to travel. The men had all worked the maritime circuit for a few years but none had seen a pirate before.
‘Where’s all the other smaller boats they’re supposed to use?’ asked the bigger of the two ex-Marines.
‘There’s no usual when it comes to these fellas,’ Bob said.
The other Marine nudged his mate and gave him a look like he doubted Bob knew that much about it. ‘So just ’ow many pirates ’ave you actually seen, Bob?’ he said.
Bob appeared reluctant to answer. ‘These would be my first, laddy, like all of you lot,’ he said. ‘But unlike you lot, I’ve done over fifty of these runs and I’ve read all there is to know about the buggers and talked to loads of blokes who’ve run into them. And I can tell you they are somethin’ to have respect for. They’ll ’ave a go, I assure you. If they decide to go for this boat, then they’ll go for it. If we make it difficult for ’em, they’ll ’ave no worries about killin’ any of us. We may ’ave to put a few of ’em away before they back off. That might mean they may put a few of us away too.’
For a few seconds none of them said anything. Like they had all realised something important. Like it was one thing to talk about pirates and the threat they posed, but something totally different to see them in person and know they were targeting you.
‘Shall we get the ’oses ready?’ one of the men asked.
‘Yeah. Let’s drown the bastards in their boat,’ said the big Marine.
‘We’re not usin’ ’oses when we’ve got guns,’ Bob said calmly. ‘You might want to take the more humane way right now. But if you end up an ’ostage of those wankers, you’ll wish you’d shot a few of ’em first chance you ’ad … Everyone got their weapons loaded?’
The men moved as one, inspired by Bob’s words. The rifles they used were not new but they had kept them well cleaned and oiled. The five men pulled back the gleaming working parts, loaded shiny magazines, released the breach blocks to fly forward on powerful springs and pick up bullets and slam them home into breaches. All five then put the ends of the barrels over the rail and aimed in the general direction of the pirate vessel.
‘Somefin’ in the water,’ the guard with the binoculars said. ‘About ’alfway between us and them.’
Bob grabbed the binoculars again, the strap yanking at the young guard’s neck, and looked along the bulker’s track until he found what the man was talking about. All he could see was something being dragged through the water.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Bob said. ‘Let’s worry about the job in ’and, shall we. If they’ve got RPGs, then they’ll probably want to engage ’em around one-fifty metres. So as soon as those bastards come within two ’undred metres, we’ll give ’em a volley to think about.’
‘What if they keep comin’?’ the big Marine asked.
‘The closer they get, the easier they’ll be to shoot,’ Bob replied.
‘Bob? Captain here.’ The voice boomed over all of the men’s radios.
‘Bob, send,’ the old team leader said into his radio.
‘They’ve got about two knots on us and are gaining.’
‘Roger that,’ Bob replied. ‘Just keep up the zig-zagging. We’ll take care of the rest,’ he added, before releasing his radio to dangle from a strap around his neck. ‘I didn’t take on this job to spend next Christmas as an ’ostage of those tossers. They close in another ’undred metres and we go to war. Is that understood?’
The men focused hard on the pirate vessel. Bob had said enough. They did not intend to be captured either. A war it was going to be then.
‘Come on you bastards!’ one of them shouted.
Stratton leaned up to look at Lotto’s boat. He could tell the pirates were gaining on him. He could see men running along its sides. Preparing to lower a couple of speedboats into the water. He would be impressed if they could do it at speed.
They could. A boat dropped into the water off the starboard side, held there on a line by crewmen. A couple of men jumped down into it and the crewmen let the line go and the boat dropped behind as the men went to fire up the engines. More crew lowered the other boat into the water on the port side and it bobbed around as a second team jumped into it.
