combination of natural authority and throaty allure was unmistakable.
“Aggie, we can’t allow them to board us,” the man named Francois protested. “You remember what the French did to the
“Do it.”
While Francois was talking with Aggie Johnston, Fielding and his men leaped the few feet separating the two ships, their boots pounding against the heavy marine-grade wood as they swarmed up the stairs. In just a few seconds all eight government men were aboard the
An agent plucked a small automatic pistol from the waistband of one man’s jeans while another trained an M-16 on the man’s head. Along the promenade, a series of plate-glass windows looked into the mess hall. Faces appeared there, then rushed off when they saw their ship being assaulted. Screams of fear and panic could be heard from the interior of the vessel.
“Goddamn it, Fielding, you’re making this worse than it has to be,” Mercer shouted.
Fielding turned to him, eyes glazed with battle lust. “I told you to wait behind. Get the fuck out of here.”
“Like hell I will,” Mercer shot back, striding to where Aggie lay on the deck. He knelt at her side and laid a gentle hand on her back. She lifted her head and turned it until she could see who was behind her.
Seeing Mercer, her green eyes blazed with anger. “You son of a bitch.”
“I just wanted my jacket back.” Mercer smiled and helped her to her feet. Aggie wiped her hands and backed away, as if contact with Mercer had somehow dirtied her.
One agent stayed behind to cover the ten or so activists while the rest entered the superstructure through a bulkhead just forward of the boarding platform.
“Listen, Aggie, this can go a hell of a lot easier if you get Voerhoven on the intercom and tell your people to cooperate.” Even as he spoke, they both heard a high-pitched scream from inside the ship followed by an almost eerie silence.
Suddenly a gunshot rang out, and the prisoners flinched. Several got to their knees.
“Stay the fuck down,” the agent covering the deck party shouted, the barrel of his assault rifle sweeping across the environmentalists.
“Aggie, do it for Christ’s sake.”
“He’s not here,” she said flatly, the enormity of the situation finally reaching her.
“Come on,” Mercer said, grabbing her hand.
He led her into the ship, almost having to drag her along the deserted passageways, guessing his way toward the bridge. He found it up two flights of narrow steps and through a watertight door. Two armed PEAL men were there, training their pistols with unerring accuracy at his head, their fists steady as they gripped the big automatics. Without a gun of his own, Mercer had no choice. He released Aggie and held his hands over his head. Beyond the windscreen, the bay was as smooth as a puddle.
“No,” Aggie Johnston said to her two comrades, “it’s all right. He’s with me.”
They lowered the weapons but regarded Mercer with a mixture of mistrust and anger. Aggie crossed to the communications set and lifted the hand mike from its steel clip.
“Attention.” Her voice sounded throughout the ship. “This is Aggie. Everyone please cooperate. Don’t put up a fight. That’s what they want. Believe me, this is going to cost them a lot more than it will cost us. Just do what they say for now and we’ll have them by the balls.” She snapped off the microphone and turned to Mercer. “You have no idea what you’ve done here. My God, this couldn’t be any better if we’d staged it ourselves.”
“Sorry to beat you to the punch. I hear staging events is a normal PEAL practice,” he mocked, then turned deadly serious. “Where is Jan Voerhoven?”
“I told you, he’s gone.”
Mercer detected a shadow behind her eyes and he realized that she and Voerhoven were lovers. The revelation jolted him. Suddenly, he was very jealous of Voerhoven and that made him angry at himself. He should feel nothing for her, but he did and it hurt. He felt a tremendous sense of loss, though Aggie had never really been his. “Aggie, your trust fund isn’t going to bail you out of this one. Tell me where he is.”
“I don’t know. He left in the middle of the night.”
“I left you about midnight, and he took off a couple of hours ago. Must have been a great reunion.”
“It was better than anything you’re capable of,” Aggie spat.
Standing before him in an oversized T-shirt and an old pair of sweatpants, her hair floating around her head in a wild tangle, her face flushed from sleep and by the action of the past few minutes, she was still the most beautiful woman Mercer had ever seen. Why did it have to be like this, he asked himself, the ache in his stomach growing. Why did they have to face each other as enemies for a cause that was so much bigger than either of them?
He angrily pushed these questions aside, once again burying his emotions under a protective veneer that seemed so much thinner around Aggie than it had been for any other woman he’d known. He didn’t want to think about the consequences if it ever cracked.
Fielding and another agent burst onto the bridge as Aggie and Mercer glared at each other, tension crackling between them like a static discharge. One agent had his M-16 tucked hard against his shoulder, viewing the scene through iron sights. The two PEAL crewmen laid their weapons on the main navigation console, their hands going up.
Mercer ignored the commotion and spoke so softly that it seemed unnatural. “Where did he go, Aggie?”
“Like I would ever tell you.” She raked a hand across her scalp, taming her hair so it settled back against her head. But again that shadow was there; some deep part of her was hurting.
“I’ll tell you right now, Voerhoven doesn’t know who he’s dealing with. Kerikov will crush him and the rest of PEAL when he’s finished here. Your boyfriend is in too deep to realize it. Help me, Aggie. Help him. If need be, I can have everyone on this ship arrested. Those not holding U.S. passports will be deported, and all the American citizens will be charged with whatever I decide. I told you that you’re involved with something far more dangerous than you thought. Last night was your first warning, and I’m not going to give you a second one.”
Dave Fielding had lowered his weapon, his head twisting from Aggie to Mercer and back again. He saw, even before Aggie knew, that she was going to give in.
“He didn’t tell me, all right?” she said angrily. “We went to bed last night and when I was awoken this morning by you and your fascist friends, he was gone. I don’t know where he went. He was acting strangely when we talked. He said something was about to happen, but he didn’t tell me what it was.” Her voice lowered to a menacing hiss. “I hate you.”
“I want to be able to say the same, Aggie, but I can’t.”
Mercer left the room, brushing by Fielding’s agent as if the man wasn’t there, Fielding following a moment later. He caught up to Mercer one deck below the bridge. Grabbing Mercer by the elbow and spinning him around, Fielding pinned him to a wall. Mercer let himself be manhandled. Fielding’s face was reddened, knotted muscles bunching at the hinge points of his jaw as he fought to keep his anger in check.
“What the fuck was that all about?” Spittle bubbled at his lips as he spoke.
“You did your job. Charge the guys who carried guns with weapons’ possession and then get out of my face,” Mercer said tightly. He tried to twist away, but Fielding held him, his meaty hands pressing Mercer’s shoulders against the wall.
Mercer jacked up his knee, slamming it against the juncture of Fielding’s thighs. The FBI agent doubled over, his breath exploding. The pain radiating from his groin dropped him to the deck, his lungs nearly in convulsions. Mercer stood impassively as Fielding tried to ease the agony by massaging his crotch.
“This mission was intended to be a warning,” Mercer said evenly, looking down at the FBI agent. “However, the person I wanted wasn’t here. I can only hope that maybe I got through to someone even more important.”
Mercer looked in the direction of the bridge, a saddened smile on his face. He turned and went below to the main deck, eager to get off the research vessel.
Only time would tell if he’d done more damage than good.
The squawks and calls of the gulls above the
