/> Austin raised the glasses. “Don’t bring out the body bags just yet,” he said. “Maybe there’s still a chance to save the rig.”
“Impossible! The platform will sink like a stone when the ship slams into it.”
“Take a look around midships,” Austin said. “Tell me what you see.”
The captain peered through the lenses. “There’s a gangway hanging down almost to the waterline.”
Austin outlined his plan.
“That’s crazy, Kurt. Too dangerous. You and Joe could be killed.”
Austin gave Dawe a tight smile. “No offense, Captain, but if your Newfie jokes didn’t kill us, nothing will.”
The captain gazed at Austin’s determined face and his expression of utmost confidence. If anyone could pull off the impossible, it would be this American and his friend.
“All right,” Dawe said. “I’ll give you everything you need.”
Austin slipped into his foul weather jacket, yanked up the zipper, and headed down to the deck to fill Zavala in. Zavala knew his friend well enough not to be surprised at the audacity or the risk of Austin’s idea.
“Pretty simple scheme when you think about it,” Zavala said. “The odds aren’t the greatest.”
“Slightly better than a snowball’s chance in hell by my reckoning.”
“Can’t get much better than that. The execution could be a little tricky.”
A pained expression came to Austin’s rugged face. “I’d prefer it if we didn’t use the word execution.”
“An unfortunate slip of the tongue. What does Captain Dawe think of your idea?”
“He thinks we’d be crazy.”
Zavala fixed his eyes on the massive containership plowing through the gray seas on a parallel course and his agile mind calculated speed, direction, and water conditions.
“The captain’s right, Kurt,” Zavala said. “We are crazy.”
“Then I assume you’re in.”
Zavala nodded. “Hell, yes. I was bored lassoing icebergs.”
“Thanks, Joe. The way I see this thing, it all comes down to risk assessment versus reward.”
Zavala understood exactly what Austin was getting at. “How many guys are on the oil rig?”
“Captain says two hundred plus, in addition to those on the ship.”
“The math seems pretty simple. The risk is high but not insurmountable, and we might be able to save more than two hundred lives.”
“That’s the way I look at it,” Austin said. He slipped on a flotation vest and tossed another to Zavala. They sealed the deal with a firm handshake. Austin gave a thumbs-up to the captain, who’d been watching their discussion from the bridge.
UNDER CAPTAIN DAWE’S tight command, the ship came around and stopped at an angle to the wind that would allow Austin and Zavala to launch the bright red, sixteen-foot inflatable boat on the lee side of the ship. The ship cut the full impact of the wind, but the boat still tossed on the mounding seas like a rubber duck in a bathtub.
Austin was fitted out with a pocket radio attached to a hands-free microphone and earpiece. Captain Dawe would keep him up to date on the progress of the oil rig’s anchor-hauling crews. If the platform got all its anchors up in time to move out of the way of the oncoming ship, or if there were any deviation in the ship’s course, he would call Austin, who could then abort his plan. If the ship–platform collision seemed imminent, Austin could go from there.
Austin hung from the ladder with the wave crests splashing at his feet, then stepped off and landed square-footed in the boat. It was like jumping onto a wet trampoline. He would have been bounced out, but he grabbed the safety grips on the pontoons and hung on to the violently pitching boat.
When the inflatable had stabilized under his weight, Austin started the seventy-five-horsepower motor. With the outboard grumbling and snorting in the waves, Austin gripped the ship’s ladder and steadied the boat so Zavala could join him. Zavala stepped into the bouncy inflatable with his usual catlike grace, cast off the bow and stern lines, and shoved the boat away from the ship.
Austin turned the tiller over to Zavala, who goosed the throttle and pointed the blunt bow on a course to intercept the Ocean Adventure.