“You heard Commander Killjoy,” Juan joked. “Only one drink apiece.”
Now it was mocking groans.
“I didn’t say what size the glass had to be.”
More cheers. Juan didn’t care how much it would hurt tomorrow. Tonight called for a celebration.
The Oregon was officially back in business.
* * *
—
When Captain Rahal and his crew heard the explosion outside, they knew it hadn’t occurred on the ship. Too far away. Most of them thought that meant the helicopter coming to rescue them had been shot down, which didn’t help morale. The preceding sound of a massive piece of equipment like a buzz saw only added to the confusion.
Fifteen minutes after the explosion, the locked handle on the door to the mess hall began to smoke. They backed away and were surprised when the door suddenly sprang open.
Rahal peered out into the corridor and found it vacant. He crept out. No one stopped him.
The XO was the next one out, and he stared at the scorched door lock in astonishment. “What do you think happened?”
Rahal inspected the melted metal lying on the floor. “I have no idea. Come with me. The rest of you stay here until we know what’s going on.”
Rahal and the XO made their way up to the bridge, tensing at every corner in fear that they might run into the terrorists.
But when they got to the bridge, it was completely empty.
The XO did a quick systems check. “All operations nominal. Engines, pumps, and cargo are intact, and everything’s functioning normally.”
“Where did they all go?” Rahal wondered out loud. “Is their boat gone?”
The XO went outside to the flying bridge and pointed down. “Captain, look.”
Rahal joined him and saw a terrorist lying on the deck and two more in the hijackers’ boat, all of them tied and motionless.
They went back inside and checked the shipboard cameras. Two more men were lashed to a pipe at the bow, and two were prone with their wrists tied to a railing in the engine room. The lifeboat had been launched. The remains of its shattered hull floated behind the ship.
“Was that the explosion we heard?” the XO asked.
Before Rahal could hazard a guess, he heard a call come over the radio in American English.
“Dahar, this is the Norego off your starboard stern. We’ve been alerted that you may be under attack by hijackers. Can we render any assistance?”
Rahal turned and was surprised to see a ship just a mile away. It was a break bulk freighter a little more than half the size of the Dahar.
“Norego, we read you. Where did you come from? Our radar had you thirty kilometers behind us less than an hour ago.”
“Must have been a faulty reading. We were only ten klicks behind when you stopped. Are you and your crew okay? We saw your lifeboat launch and then explode, and we’ve detected an inbound Malaysian security forces helicopter.”
Rahal, still stunned by the fortunate turn of events, said, “We were attacked by hijackers, but they’ve all been subdued.”
“That’s great news. I’m sure your company and the Malaysian authorities will be impressed by your response to the emergency.”
Rahal exchanged a look with the XO. They both knew that credit for saving their ship from certain destruction would earn them a hefty bonus.
“Yes, I’m sure they will be happy that the hijackers were stopped,” Rahal answered.
“Well, you have a good day. Be careful out there.”