Daniel Ganninger - Icarus Investigations 02 - Peeking Duck (18 page)

-Chapter 37-

The
Trusian
, now the
Alterra
, sped forward through the growing waves of the sea in the area known as “the roaring forties”; named for the lines of latitude that produce considerably ferocious weather and rough water.

Balboa waited patiently by the satellite phone on the bridge as he peered into the murky blackness outside, and the wind whistled between the containers on the deck of the ship.  The phone began to ring, and Balboa picked it up immediately.

“Oui monsieur.”

“
Is it secured?”  The voice asked succinctly.

“
Oui.  All iz secure.  Ve have zhe package, and it iz intact.”

“
Good.  Continue with the mission, Balboa.  The helicopter will be waiting at seventeen hundred hours at your extraction point.  Do not be late,” the voice said emphatically.  “The ship can then proceed to the final port.”

“
Oui,” Balboa answered with little emotion and hung up the satellite phone.

He settled back in his chair and elevated his feet onto the desk.  He was going to have a big payday once he delivered the package.  The plan had been flawless.  All radio communications about the disappearance of the ship had grown silent, and he had seen nothing about the
Trusian
in the day’s news.  There was no way anyone would be able to find them now.  They were too far away from land, and he figured everyone was still looking for the ship in the Pacific.  Just as Balboa was beginning to nod off, a figure appeared behind him and jolted him to an upright position.

“
Captain Marquette,” Balboa stammered.  “Can I help jou?”

“
Did you get the call?”  The captain asked seriously.

“
Jes, just received, sir.  Seventeen hundred iz our time for extraction.  We are to board zhe ozher ship as planned and fly to Paris.  Zhe ship will continue to zhe final port.”

“
Excellent.”  The captain sat down next to his colleague.

“
How much are jou to get paid for zhat disguise?” Balboa asked, pointing at the man’s face.

“
Enough for me to retire.  I don’t think I need to keep it on, do you?”

“
No, I don’t zhink so.  The first mate zhinks jou are dead.”

“
Good, I don’t want it on anymore.”  Captain Marquette then reached to his head and pulled off a gray wig to reveal a bald head.  He then removed the long gray beard that covered his face and peeled off the latex that covered his nose and around his eyes.  Without the disguise Marquette became a much younger man.

The
captain began to use his sleeve to wipe his forehead and brow, revealing a whitened face as a brown hue of makeup stained his shirt.

Balboa smiled. 
“Ve vill never have to work again.  I already have my estate in Italy lined up.”

“
Never again, I agree.  I will be in the south of France; beautiful women and sun.  I don’t care if this creates worldwide havoc.  I’ll have my money.”

The men exchanged how else they would spend their money as the ship continued to automatically cruise through the
ocean.  They were at ease thinking they were off scot-free, and no one was the wiser.  Unfortunately for them, two men flying through the sky were closing in.

-Chapter 38-

Panama City came and went after a few hours of waiting to change planes.  Finally, we arrived into Buenos Aires the next morning.

We wasted no time after the plane touched down in the
South American city and immediately secured a taxi.  We raced to an Argentine military base near the coast where our Daulphin helicopter was waiting. 

David May had done his homework, and we were eagerly greeted by a sharp
ly dressed army officer that escorted us to the awaiting helicopter.  Galveston and I had gotten enough sleep, but no amount of sleep would have prepared us for the dangerous flight out into the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. 

The helicopter was an amazing piece of machinery but didn
‘t offer a comfortable ride as the turbulence buffeted us right and left in the cabin.  Galveston thought it was just good fun, but my knuckles were turning white.  Galveston was an avid pilot and was used to the bouncing and cavorting of an aircraft; I was not.  I kept a bag close just in case my stomach wasn’t up to the task. 

The weather was on our side temporarily, but as we closed in on the position of the research ship,
Southern Sea
, things took a turn for the worse as visibility began to falter and the winds began to pick up. I would have been more at ease if I hadn’t noticed Galveston uncharacteristically lose his bravado-like demeanor and clutch the seat like a frightened girl.  He noticed me watching and quickly resumed his macho stance.  Either way, I was feeling distinctly less grateful to David May for his role as our travel agent.

The helicopter continued to creep forward as the crew fought with it in the air. 
Galveston said something to the crew and turned back to me.

“
We’re reaching the point of no return,” I heard through my headphones.

“
What the hell does that mean?” I yelled back through my headset mic over the sound of the rotating blades.

“
If we go farther, we have to find that research ship. We can’t look for long or we won’t have enough gas to get back to land.”

The words filled me with dread.  The pilots must have been confident in their skills, or just insane, because we continued to speed forward.

I was beginning to lose hope, until I saw Galveston leap from his chair and point out the front window.  It was the ship, the
Southern Sea
.  Now we just needed to land safely.

The stern helipad looked as tiny as a postage stamp, but I could make out the lights on the deck.  As we got closer and the ship grew in size
, I noticed it was an impressive vessel, brightly lit, and moving into the oncoming swells away from our position.

The pilots
maneuvered the aircraft above the pad and gently caressed it downward, ever so slightly.  My stomach began to heave and churn like the ocean outside.  The pilot extended the landing gear, and we bounced once and then fell like a rock.  The helicopter hit the pad with extreme force, sending Galveston and I bouncing up against our seat belts.  The pilots cut the engines and the door popped open, letting in the cold ocean air.

Galveston
applauded the landing, as I extricated myself from my seat like gum on the bottom of a shoe.  A sailor greeted us as our feet touched the deck of the
Southern Sea
.  We were immediately guided into the superstructure and up to the bridge.

The
captain of the
Southern Sea
was none too happy to see us and greeted us with only a grunt.  “Put them in the aft stateroom,” he growled.

The sailor led us into a small room with a porthole and two cots.  It looked like it had been used as a janitor
‘s closet.

“
Dinner’s at six.  Towels are in the corner.  The captain will talk to you soon,” he said in a pleasant English accent.  “Welcome aboard.”

Galveston
and I collapsed on the cots and removed our shoes to stretch our feet.

“
I don’t want to ever go through that again,” I said as Galveston made himself comfortable.

“
What?  That was good fun.”

We hear
d the whap of helicopter blades as the aircraft we arrived on headed back to the mainland. The pilots had allowed just enough time to refuel, so I didn’t even get to thank them for the trip.

“
They’re leaving so soon?” I asked, surprised that the pilots wouldn’t stick around for some fun.

“
They told me they had to get back, there’s a squall coming tonight, and they didn’t want the helicopter secured to the deck.” 

I laid down on the cot in the room and began to fall asleep as the engines of the
Southern Sea
went to full speed.

I awoke a
few hours later to a dark room and a pitching ship that almost threw me out of bed.  I stumbled to my feet and managed to get my shoes on before the ship threw me violently to one side.  We must have hit the squall they were talking about.

Galveston
wasn’t in his bunk, so I decided to find out what he was up to.  I made my way down the narrow hallways of the ship, until I heard laughter and yells coming from a room farther down the hall.  I rounded a corner and found the galley scattered with a multitude of people bantering about as they ate food and drank beer.  I spotted Galveston next to the captain, who had been so gruff with us earlier.  He slapped the captain on the back as if they were old friends.

“
Roger!” Galveston yelled as he saw me stumble through the door.  “Get over here and join the fun.”

I was greeted with an onslaught of hellos from the other members of the crew and research staff as I walked toward
Galveston.

“
Roger, this is Captain Wallace, our glorious leader on this fine journey.”

I reached out my hand nervously toward the
captain who grabbed it and shook it hard.

“
Nice to meet you, Roger.  Welcome aboard the
Southern Sea
,” the captain exclaimed in a dramatic change of demeanor.  “This guy is something else,” he said, pointing at Galveston.

“
Yeah, he’s something all right,” I said quietly.

“
Roger, sit down and have a beer,” Galveston ordered and pushed out a chair for me.

A beer appeared before me
, and I grabbed it before it slid off the table from the shifting of the ship. 

“
Who’s driving the ship?”  I asked nervously.

“
He is tightly wound, just like you described, my friend,” the captain yelled, slapping me on the knee.  “Don’t worry we have a rope attached to the wheel.”

Everyone had a good laugh at my question.  I was dumbfounded at the sight, and I leaned toward
Galveston to ask what was going on.

“
I told them exactly why we’re here.  They think it’s terribly exciting.”

“
Really?”  I was surprised.  We were causing them to veer off their original course by at least a few hundred miles.

“
They’ve been around the Ross Sea for months, and they’re bored to tears.  This is the most excitement they’ve had on their whole voyage.”

I began to settle down, and after one or two, maybe three beers, began to loosen up.  It was a welcome break from dealing with the case, and I loved every minute of it.

Galveston and I shut down the galley that night and finally got a good night’s sleep, even with the rolling seas.  By morning the sun was out, and we were getting closer to Gough Island.  The Captain informed us we were only a half-day away, and by midday we would be close enough to get onto the island.

Those few hours passed by slowly as the anticipation grew on what we would find, which would hopefully be the
Trusian
.  A sailor came into our room at about eleven A.M. and directed us to the bridge.

We
walked to the bridge and noticed the captain perched with a pair of binoculars, looking in the distance.  Land was in sight.

“
Take a look,” he said as he handed me the binoculars.

I took them in my hand and peered through.  I saw a towering
island in the distance and then something caught my eye, a slow bobbing motion of the stern of a ship.  Most of it was hidden behind some rocks anchored in the shallow bay of the island, but I could make out that it was an enormous container ship.  My heart leapt at the sight, and I couldn’t believe my eyes.  We had found the
Trusian
! 

-Chapter 39-

Galveston and I were elated that we found the ship that had escaped even our own government’s detection.  We were as excited as a child on Christmas morning and exchanged a few high-fives and fist pumps to celebrate.  But our jubilation didn’t last long when we remembered the dangers that lay ahead. 

Captain Wallace
gave the order to move the
Southern Sea
west, directly on the opposite side of the island.  We would debark there and make it over the land to the South African meteorological station, right above where the
Trusian
was anchored in the bay.  The initial plan was to have the research vessel’s small helicopter ferry us to the island, but once we saw the terrain and the unwanted attention helicopter sounds could bring, we decided a shoreline approach would be best.

The
Southern Sea
stopped offshore, and we located a shallow rock outcropping that would enable us to scurry onto the island.  Captain Wallace took Galveston aside and gave him a small leather bag.  Inside it were two 9 mm revolvers with extra bullets.  Galveston thanked the captain, and we moved quickly to the skiff that would take us ashore.

The skiff bounced across the rough
sea to the rock outcropping.  The pilot of the small vessel would have to time it just right between the waves to get us ashore.  I pulled my parka up over my ears as we made our initial run toward the rocks.  The pilot timed it beautifully, and when we ground on the rocks, Galveston threw his backpack on to the steep shore and leapt out of the boat.  I threw my pack as far as I could and made a good leap just as the pilot reversed direction of the boat to get out of the way of the oncoming waves.  We scampered to higher ground and gave the pilot a wave as he raced back to the
Southern Sea
.  We would stay in communication with the research vessel with our radios, letting them know what we had ascertained about the situation. 

The terrain on the
island was rough, and the earth was gouged with holes and rocks that made traversing it difficult.  We hiked through a narrow valley for over an hour until we spotted the research station of the South African meteorological team that worked on the island.

Galveston
and I approached it cautiously and crouched low to the ground.  We hiked our way to a ravine below the entrance. 

The building was a boxy structure and situated on a hillside overlooking the
bay below.  We could barely make out the
Trusian
just off the coastline.  I surveyed the ship with binoculars and saw a few men moving slowly about the deck, but with the distance we were at, and because of a gray haze, I couldn’t see anything else to help us.

Galveston
pulled me toward him and laid out our plan.  We would move up the hill to the side of the building and check the windows for any movement inside before we tried to enter. 

My palms began to sweat through my gloves as
Galveston began to climb the small hill.  I followed closely behind.  The low lying shrubbery around the building hid our movement well, but there were no trees to hide behind.  We soon found ourselves crawling through the bushes to the side of the building on our stomachs, over the rocks and dirt.

Galveston
made it to the corner and stood up.  He kept himself where he couldn’t be seen from the bay.  I scrambled toward him and pressed myself against the side of the wall.

Galveston
pointed down the side of the station.  “Check those windows for anyone inside,” he ordered.

I nodded and moved carefully down the side until I reached a window.  They were thick and small, probably to keep out as much of the gale winds and cold as possible.  It was difficult to see through them clearly. 

I crouched and peered over the sill of the window.  I saw a small room with computer equipment inside, but the room was dark and none of the computers were on.

I shook my head at
Galveston and moved to the next window as he followed.  Again I found a darkened room with no one inside.  Galveston reached a hand on my shoulder, which startled me, and I swung around.  He pointed down from the building at a small structure with an open door.  It was the generator room, and it had a large diesel tank next to it.  I noticed that wires were on the ground around it, and the generator was not running from inside the shed.  No wonder it had been so quiet.  The generator had been turned off, and the wires had been cut that supplied electricity to the research station.

We continued to the back of the building and saw more darkened rooms and not a soul about.  The building was abandoned
—or so we hoped.

“
Let’s go in,” Galveston ordered flatly, and I followed him to the front door.

The front door was visible from the
bay, so we would have to take the chance on being seen from the
Trusian
.  But the chances were remote since it seemed the pirates didn’t have anyone looking in the direction of the building.  We moved quickly from our hiding spot to the entrance.  It was a simple, metal door and already cracked open.

Galveston
went in first with his gun drawn, just in case we met some unfriendly folks.  I ran in after him. 

The meteorological station was completely dark inside and larger than it appeared from the outside.  We prowled through room after room of equipment, through the living quarters, and a recreation hall.  There were no signs of life.

“Give a look at the ship so we can see what’s going on,” Galveston told me. 

I peered out the nearest window that would give us the best view of the
Trusian
, which bobbed up and down in the choppy bay of the island.  It was hard to discern what was going on around the deck due to the large containers, but then I spotted some movement.  I noticed two men dressed in black at the stern of the ship, obviously carrying guns over their shoulders.  They walked slowly back and forth, and one was puffing on a cigarette.  No one else was on the deck that I could see. 

The pirates wore black pants and parkas, with black hats on their heads.  They definitely weren
‘t the type I had seen on the news hijacking ships off the coast of Somalia.  These looked like professionals, and that scared me even more.

I had received extensive gun training t
he previous year, but nothing that would prepare me for the possibility of taking another man’s life.  Now I had to rely on that training to get me through this, just in case it came to that.  The use of a gun was nothing new for Galveston, but his foray into the annals of love had probably left him somewhat rusty.

“
What now?”  I asked, curious to see what plan was formulating in Galveston’s mind.

“
Not sure,” he answered straightly.  “We need to get to that ship, but we’ll be spotted with those guards there.”  Galveston took a second.  “We need to get them back up to this building.”

“
You could fire your gun.  That would get their attention.”

“
Yeah, but unwanted attention.  I don’t want them to think anyone is here.  I just want them to think there is a problem they need to check out.”

We thought over the problem.  The pirates needed to come back to the building, but we also needed a boat to get to the
Trusian
.  I then thought of a plan.

“
The generator.  We can fire up the generator and turn all the lights on.  That should get them here to see what had happened.  I’m sure they cut it before they captured the weather team.  Maybe they would think they forgot someone.”

“
I knew there was a reason I brought you along,” Galveston joked.  “Good idea.  We need to be ready for them, and we need to have a way onto the ship.”

“
I have an idea about that, too.  Tell me what you think.”