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Chapter 10

FROM THE SIX-STORY-HIGHBRIDGE of the Ocean Adventure, Captain Irwin Lange had a gull’s-eye view of almost the entire length of the ship under his command. He had been at his lofty post when the helicopters had dropped out of the sky and landed on top of the container stacks. His initial reaction had been one of astonishment. That quickly changed to anger as he gazed through the big windows that overlooked the long deck.

The captain took pride in his Teutonic imperturbability. His stolid character was mirrored in firmly set facial features that almost never changed from their expression of genial self-competence. This was different. His lantern-jawed frown deepened. The helicopters had landed without his permission. His logical mind quickly dismissed the possibility that the helicopters were in trouble. One helicopter, maybe. But not two.

This was not right. Not proper. Peering through his binoculars, the captain became even more incensed as a dozen or so figures jumped from the helicopters and fanned out under the whirling rotors. All were dressed in black. He only caught a glimpse of the interlopers before they disappeared over the edge of the stack. But in that brief instant he saw that they were carrying weapons. His anger turned to dismay.

Pirates!

Lange took a hard swallow. Impossible. Pirates operated in far-off places like Sumatra and the China Sea. There had been pirate attacks off the coast of Brazil and West Africa. But he found it inconceivable that sea marauders would operate in a frigid, fogbound area like the Grand Banks.

In his many years of sailing the Europe-to-America route, the captain’s only brush with pirates had been a video produced by an insurance-trade group. The shipping company that owned the ship under his command had distributed the video to its captains with instructions to watch it with their officers. The video showed fierce-eyed Asian pirates attacking a tanker in small, fast boats.

Lange desperately tried to recall the lessons the video tried to instill.

Vigilance is the best defense against piracy. No one warned about pirates dropping from the sky!

Turn the ship into a citadel. Too late to lock all the doors.

Don’t fight the pirates. Not a chance. There was nothing more lethal than flare guns on board. None of the German officers or largely Filipino crew was trained in weapons use.

Stay calm. Well, that was one thing he was good at.

He turned to the bridge crew, which had been equally as startled at the sudden arrival of the helicopters.

“I believe the ship is being attacked by pirates,” he said with the same unemotional tone he might have used to announce that a squall was imminent.

The stricken face of his first officer suggested that the younger man had none of his captain’s composure. “Pirates! What should we do?”

“Do not offer resistance under any circumstances. I’ll call for help.”

He picked up the radio microphone but the ship’s radio speaker crackled as he was about to make a distress call.

“Calling the captain of the Ocean Adventure,” a voice said. “Do you hear me?”

Lange said, “This is the captain speaking. Who is this?”

The speaker ignored Lange’s question. “We are rounding up your crew. We are monitoring your radio transmissions and advise you not to call a Mayday. Do you understand me, Captain Lange?”

How did they know his name?

The captain gulped out the words. “Yes, I understand you.”

“Good. Wait where you are.”

The captain’s immediate thought was for the welfare of his twenty-man crew. Maybe if he warned his men they could hide. He picked up the ship’s telephone and called the engine room. No answer. He tried the ship’s mess hall. Silence. He fought back a growing sense of panic and tried the officers’ lounge. Again no answer.

Heavy footsteps pounded on the bridge wing. A gang of armed men burst into the cabin. Four men wore identical black uniforms, caps, and masks hiding their faces except for their hard eyes. The fifth man was dressed in jeans and a foul weather jacket, and his face was uncovered. The captain recognized him as a Filipino named Juan who worked in the engine room.

The captain assumed Juan was a captive until he noticed the pistol in the crewman’s hand. The Filipino saw the consternation in the captain’s face, and his mouth widened in a gap-toothed grin. The captain realized that Juan was working with the pirates. That’s how they managed to take control so quickly. That’s how they knew his name. Juan must have guided the attackers directly to the engine room and other parts of the ship.

One man went over to the control panel and pushed the helmsman aside.

“What are you doing?” Captain Lange said.

The man punched coordinates into the ship’s computer, using numbers printed on a piece of paper. The captain saw that he had put the ship on autopilot. The man finished his task and barked a command.

“You and others. Down to the deck.”


Tags: Clive Cussler NUMA Files Thriller