Flood Tide - Cussler Clive - Страница 3
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“Resting together on the bottom for all eternity. It won't be long now.”
Gallagher rushed topside and ran, clutching the handrail for support while sliding his hand along it down the passageway to his cabin. He was neither frantic nor confused but calm and composed. He knew exactly what he must do. He always kept the door locked because of what was inside, but did not waste time fumbling for the key. He kicked the door open, smashing it against the stop.
A woman with long blond hair, wearing a silk robe, lay stretched on the bed reading a magazine. She looked up startled from the sudden intrusion as a small dachshund jumped to its feet beside her and began barking. The woman's body was long and beautifully proportioned. Her complexion was smooth and flawless with high cheekbones, her eyes the vivid blue of a late-morning sky. If she stood, the top of her head would have come up to Gallagher's chin. She swung her legs to the deck gracefully and sat there on the edge of the bed.
“Come on, Katie.” His hand on her wrist, he jerked her to her feet. “We've precious little time.”
“Are we coming into port?” she asked in confusion.
“No, darlin'. The ship is about to sink.”
Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh God!” she gasped.
Gallagher was jerking open closet doors, tearing out drawers and throwing clothes at her over his shoulders. “Put on every piece of clothing you can get into, every pair of pants you've got and every pair of my socks you can slide over your feet. Dress in layers, thinner garb on the inside, heavier on the outside, and be quick about it. This old tub is heading for the bottom any minute.”
The woman looked as if she was about to protest, then silently and quickly threw off the robe and began pulling on her underwear. She moved rapidly and purposely, wiggling first into her slacks and then Gallagher's pants. Five knit sweaters went on over three blouses. She felt fortunate indeed that she had packed a full suitcase for her rendezvous with her fiance. When she could wear no more, Gallagher helped stuff her into one of his working jumpsuits. A pair of his boots went over her silk hose and several pairs of his socks.
The little dachshund darted between their legs, leaping up and down, ears flapping in excitement. He had been a gift from Gallagher along with an emerald engagement ring when he had proposed marriage. The dog wore a red leather collar with a gold dragon charm that swung wildly across his little chest.
“Fritz!” she scolded him. “Lie on the bed and be still.”
Katrina Garin was a strong-minded woman who did not require detailed instructions. She was twelve years old when her British father, who was master of an interisland freighter, was lost at sea. Raised by her mother's White Russian family, she went to work at Canton Lines as a clerk and worked her way up to the director's executive secretary. The same age as Gallagher, she had met him at the steamship offices when he was called in to report on the conditions of the Princess Dou Wan's engines, and she became attracted to him. Though she would have preferred a man with a touch of style and sophistication, his rough manners and jovial disposition reminded her of her father.
They met frequently in the following weeks and slept together, mostly in his cabin aboard ship. It was the added thrill of sneaking on board and making love under the noses of the captain and crew that she found especially exciting. Katie had been trapped on board when General Hui surrounded the ship and dock with a small army of security guards. Unable to go ashore despite pleas by Gallagher and an angry Captain Hunt when he was informed of her presence, General Hui insisted she remain on board for the duration of the voyage. Since leaving Shanghai, she had rarely stepped from the cabin; her only companion when Gallagher was on duty in the engine room was the little dog that she had taught tricks to pass the long hours at sea.
Gallagher hurriedly inserted their papers, passports and valuables in a waterproof oilcloth pouch. He threw on a heavy sailor's peacoat and looked at her through blue eyes clouded with concern. “You ready?”
She held up her arms and looked down at the bulky mass of clothing. “I'll never get a life jacket over all this,” she said, a tremor in her voice. “Without one I'll sink like a stone in the water.”
“Have you forgotten? General Hui gave orders that all Me jackets be thrown overboard four weeks ago.”
“We'll get away in the lifeboats then.”
“The boats that haven't already been bashed to pieces can never be launched in these waters.”
She looked at him steadily. “We're going to die, aren't we? If we don't drown, we'll freeze to death.”
He pulled a stocking cap down over her blond hair and ears. “Warm head makes for warm feet.” Then he gently tilted her face upward between his massive hands and kissed her. “Darlin', didn't they ever tell you that Irishmen never drown?” Taking Katie by the hand, Gallagher dragged her roughly into the passageway and headed up a companionway to the deck above.
Forgotten in the bedlam, Fritz the dachshund stretched out obediently on the bed, believing his mistress would soon return, bewilderment in his brown eyes.
Those of the crew off duty who weren't sitting around playing dominoes or telling stories of other storms they survived were sleeping in their berths, oblivious to the ship about to break up around them. The cook and his galley help were leaning up after dinner and serving coffee to those who lingered. Despite the battering from the storm, the crew was happy at the prospect of reaching port. Although their destination had been held from them, they knew their exact position within thirty miles.
There was no complacency in the wheelhouse. Hunt stared aft through the snow flurries, barely distinguishing the deck lights trailing toward the stern. In horrified fascination he watched as the stern appeared to rise on an angle downward amidships. Over the howl of the wind through the superstructure, he could hear the hull shrieking as it ground itself to pieces. He reached out and punched the emergency bell that rang the general alarm throughout the ship.
Hui knocked Hunt's hand away from the emergency bell button. “We cannot abandon ship.” He spoke in a shocked whisper.
Hunt stared at him in disgust. “Die like a man, General.” “I must not be allowed to die. I vowed to see the cargo safely deposited in port.”
“This ship is breaking in two,” said Hunt. “Nothing can save you and your precious cargo.” “Then our position must be fixed so it can be salvaged.” “Fixed for whom? The lifeboats have been crushed and swept away. You demanded all life vests be cast overboard. You destroyed the ship's radio. We can't send out a Mayday call. You covered our tracks too well. We're not even supposed to be hi these waters. Our location is unknown to the rest of the world. All Chiang Kai-shek will ever learn is that the Princess Dou Wan vanished with all hands six thousand miles south of here. You planned well, General, too well.” “No!” Hui gasped. “This cannot happen!” Hunt actually found himself amused at the look of rage and helplessness on the face of Hui. The shifty look in the dark eyes was gone.
The general could not bring himself to accept the inevitable. He tore open the door to the bridge wing and ran out into the storm gone berserk. He could see the ship twisting in its death throes. The stern was swinging on a pronounced angle to starboard now. Steam was erupting from the tear in the hull. He stood and watched in shock as the stern separated from the rest of the ship in a protest of the grinding and tearing sound of metal being ripped apart. Then all the lights aboard ship j blinked out and he could see no more of the stern.
Crewmen burst from below onto decks covered in snow j and ice. Frustrated by murderous waves that had smashed the ! lifeboats, they cursed the lack of life jackets. The end came so quickly, most all were caught unprepared. This time of year the j frigid water was only thirty-four degrees, the air temperature only five degrees above zero. In panic they jumped over the side, seemingly unaware that the cold water would kill them in a matter of minutes, if not from hypothermia then from the stoppage of their hearts at the shock of having their bodies exposed to an instantaneous sixty degree drop in temperature.
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