My Only One (12 page)

If the harpoon was fired, it could conceivably strike the Zodiac or the occupants. If the harpoon did slam into the Zodiac, Abby knew the craft would sink immediately. She or Brad might be killed or injured. Staring up at the rusty harpoon less than six hundred yards away, Abby’s throat tightened with tension.

Ahead of her, she could hear the whales blowing. Constantly having to dodge the erratic waves and try to ensure the Zodiac wouldn’t be caught and flipped, Abby had to also keep an eye on the catcher. It was a deadly dance between her, the sea and the ship.

“Abby, there’s an ice floe ahead! If the whales make that, the Japanese can’t follow them!” Brad crowed loudly across the roar of the craft.

Squinting, Abby could barely make out the ice floe. It was at least five miles away. Too far.

“Watch it!” Brad yelled.

Eyes moving to the catcher, Abby saw the ship changing direction once again, to get a good firing angle on the pod. The loaded harpoon was now being aimed directly at them, or more specifically, at a cow and her calf, who were decidedly lagging behind the rest of the pod just ahead of the Zodiac. Heartbeat increasing, Abby realized with a sinking feeling that the small calf had tired and was trying to rest. The mother was gently nudging him along, but he simply wanted to rest and not swim.

“Brad, call the
Argonaut!
” Abby shouted. “Tell them we’re staying to protect this mother and calf from the fleet!”

Alec was on the bridge with Captain Stratman when the call came in over the radio.

“Damn,” Stratman growled. He clenched the pipe between his teeth, heaving the
Argonaut
to port and heading directly toward where the Zodiac that was moving around in a slow circle to protect the whales.

“What are you going to do?” Alec demanded.

“Try to warn that catcher to move off,” he said grimly. The
Argonaut
shifted and Stratman pointed the bow directly at the Japanese ship.

Holding on to the brass railing inside the bridge, Alec watched tautly. Abby was holding her position near the mother and calf. The catcher was bearing down on them at full speed. “He doesn’t care if you’re here or not, Captain. You’d better have another plan of attack.”

“I can’t put myself between him and Abby! He’ll ram me again.”

Alec’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t afford
not
to put your ship between them. That catcher will strike both the Zodiac and the whales if you don’t.”

Stratman flashed Alec an irritated look. On the bridge with them were all the news crews, their Minicams rolling. In a lowered voice, he told his first mate, Gary Gent, “You order Abby out of the area. Let those bastards have the whales! Tell her I can’t protect her. We talked about this before she went out, that I wouldn’t put my ship in jeopardy again. She knew, dammit!”

“Yes, sir!” Gent replied, getting on the radio immediately.

“John,” Brad radioed back, his voice strained, “Abby is refusing to leave. Repeat, we aren’t leaving. Abby wants these whales protected. Over.”

“Damn,” Stratman whispered under his breath. “Gent, tell 'em I ain’t gonna risk this vessel! If I become a wedge, that catcher will ram us to smithereens. Tell her that and tell her to get the hell out of there!”

Alec’s grip on the brass rail tightened. He could see the positions of the players involved. The Japanese ship was rapidly closing the distance. Abby again refused to move and leave the whales as targets. The only ship that could make a difference and save both the whales and the Zodiac was the
Argonaut.

“Captain, you’ve
got
to put your ship between Abby and the catcher,” Alec said tensely.

“No way. I ain’t gonna risk this ship. Insurance is paying for repairs this time, but they said they won’t if it happens again.” He pointed an angry finger in the direction of the catcher. “Dammit, this guy plays for keeps! This particular fleet ain’t like the rest of the whaling fleets we’ve encountered. The rest have all backed down, but he ain’t going to!”

Abby’s life was at stake, and so was Brad’s. Alec glared at the small man. There was no time left. A decision had to be made.

“Give me the helm, Captain Stratman,” Alec ordered coolly.

“What?”

“Let me assume command.”

Stratman’s eyes widened enormously. “You’re outa your mind if—”

Alec shoved his face into the captain’s face. “Stratman, you get on the radio to that Japanese catcher. You tell him an officer from the Soviet navy has taken over command of your trawler. You tell him if he wants to risk ramming me, he’s ramming the Soviet Union. I can make life so miserable for him politically that it will make tangling with that Zodiac look like child’s play. This is an international incident in the making. I don’t think that captain will risk it. Now do it!”

Gripping the wheel, Alec watched as Stratman leapt aside. Instantly, the American captain was on the radio, screaming at the Japanese catcher. Wrenching the
Argonaut
tightly to port, Alec aimed the bow directly into the oncoming waves. There was little time. Very little. The tension was palpable on the bridge. Alec had not forgotten about the news teams on the bridge. He was risking his navy career, and worse, possible censure by his government for taking this action. He didn’t care. If Abby was courageous enough, foolish enough, to try to save the mother and calf, then someone had to rise to the occasion and equal her bravery. She deserved nothing less.

The radio traffic increased markedly. Alec kept the trawler pointed directly between the Zodiac and the catcher. Stratman was screaming into the microphone, and Alec could hear the Japanese skipper shrieking back. Threats moved heatedly back and forth across the airwaves. Alec steadied the trawler, less than half a mile from where the Zodiac bobbed on the restless ocean.

“They ain’t gonna do it!” Stratman roared. “They don’t give a damn about an international incident! The captain said he’s in international waters and those whales are fair game!”

“Fine,” Alec ground out softly. He swung the helm rapidly, the
Argonaut
's bow aimed directly at the catcher bearing down on them less than a mile away. “Then that captain is going to have to ram us.”

“What?” Stratman croaked in disbelief. “Not with my ship, you ain’t!”

Alec swung on him, his voice angry. “Captain, get a hold of yourself. Where are your priorities? What’s important here? An old scow or two people’s lives?”

Stratman glared at him and then at the cameras. “Shut those damn things off!”

“Sorry,” one newswoman said, “you agreed to let us tape, Captain. I can’t.”

Swinging around, Stratman hissed at Alec, “They’ll sink us!”

Alec shook his head. “No, they won’t. When I get in position, I want you to make a call to the skipper of that catcher. Tell him the
Argonaut
has suddenly developed engine trouble and we’re dead in the water.” Alec grimly watched the ship approaching. “Tell him we’ve got newspeople on board and they’re recording this confrontation. If he rams a vessel dead in the water, his license as a sea captain is as good as gone, and he knows that. No, he won’t risk his license.”

Shaking his head, Stratman muttered, “Rostov, you’ve got more cards up your sleeve than a damned Las Vegas poker player.”

“Is that a compliment or insult?”

Grabbing the microphone, Stratman snarled, “You take it any way you want! You’re responsible for the outcome of this situation!”

Sweat stood out on Alec’s upper lip. He wiped it away with the back of his hand. He leaned over, pulling both engine throttles back to idle position. “Make that call now.” Jockeying the throttles gingerly with one hand, Alec made sure the
Argonaut
stayed between Abby and the catcher.

The catcher had a full head of steam, and Alec knew it would take at least half a mile for the ship to change course. They were less than a mile apart now. He keyed his hearing to Stratman, but kept his attention on the position of the
Argonaut
and the direction of the waves.

“He’s mad,” Stratman declared after giving the Japanese skipper the story.

“That’s his problem,” Alec said dryly. His long fingers remained tense across the throttles, playing them gently, keeping the bow in the direction of the catcher. “Look back. What’s Abby doing?”

Stratman craned a look over his shoulder. “She’s still circling that mother and calf.”

Alec didn’t expect Abby to back down. He knew she wouldn’t. He didn’t want her to. “Demand the skipper give you an answer, Captain.”

“Give the guy some time to think about this, will you?” Stratman exploded. “You just can’t keep pushing like this!”

In a steel tone, Alec whispered, “The way you win a situation like this is to be more aggressive than the other party, Captain. Make the call.”

Grumpily, Stratman called the Japanese skipper once again.

Alec knew the catcher was coming up on the point of no return. He stared hard at the bow of the whaler. If it didn’t begin to move to one side or the other, then he was faced with a real crisis. He couldn’t afford to allow Stratman’s trawler to be rammed. And he couldn’t allow Abby or Brad to be killed, either. Sweat dripped from him, soaking into the fabric of his uniform.

“Look!” a newswoman cried triumphantly, “the catcher’s turning! He’s turning!”

A collective sigh crossed the bridge. Alec grinned tightly. Stratman put down the microphone and glared at him.

“You sure you ain’t Irish, Rostov?”

“No, Captain. Why do you ask?”

“Because you’ve got the luck of one, that’s why.”

Playing the throttles, Alec said, “Abby’s got the Irish blood. It’s her luck that’s helped us.”

Taking off his cap, Stratman wiped his sweaty forehead. “Whew, this is gettin' too rough out here.”

Alec said nothing, watching as the entire Japanese fleet slowly made a turn and headed south. “Radio Abby and tell her the good news,” he ordered Stratman, “and then, you can have the helm. I’m going down to help them back on board.”

* * *

“T
HE
J
APANESE FLEET IS
heading back to Japan,” Alec told Abby after she’d changed into dry clothes. She wore a bulky knit emerald-green sweater and an almost threadbare pair of jeans and tennis shoes. He stood with her in the passageway between their cabins, braced against the constant motion of the
Argonaut.

“That’s great!” she exclaimed.

In the low light provided by a few bulbs set into the wood ceiling, Alec saw that despite Abby’s enthusiasm, she was exhausted. He reached out, gently grazing her smooth, flushed cheek. “You’re tired. Why don’t you rest for a while, Abby?”

A soft sigh escaped her lips as Alec’s thumb brushed her skin. Abby waited for such times as this, their private moments, the unguarded moments away from the press’s prying cameras. His quiet strength had given her so much during the past week. Lifting her eyelashes, she gazed up into his rugged, shadowed face, hotly aware of the burning light in his dark eyes.

“In a little while, Alec. Let me go up and talk to John, first. He seemed awfully upset over what I did. I owe him an explanation for my decision, plus an apology for what I did.”

With a partial smile, Alec forced himself to stop caressing her cheek. She enjoyed his touch as much as he needed to touch her. “You’d better contact Tim, too. If the Japanese fleet is returning home, that means our mission is over and we can return to Anchorage sooner than expected. I think your news people got the story they were hoping to get.”

Abby agreed, exhausted. “That means we’ll find out how many talk shows want us to go on and speak about the whale and dolphin issues.”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I’ll do that, and then I’ll rest. If I go to sleep, will you wake me up in time for dinner?” Abby glanced at her watch. “That’s two hours away.”

“I will,” Alec promised. He watched her turn and moved quietly down the passageway toward the bridge ladder. There was such grace to Abby, her shoulders proudly thrown back, her spine straight and made of nothing but raw courage. Wanting to get a few hours of privacy, Alec returned to his own cabin.

* * *

A
KNOCK ON HER CABIN DOOR
awakened Abby with a start. Groggy, she muttered, “Come in….” How long had she slept? Looking at her watch, she realized it was nearly 8:00 p.m. Just as she threw off the blanket and sat up on the bunk attached to the bulkhead, she saw Alec enter with a tray of food.

“I thought I’d better wake you so you could eat,” he said, shutting the cabin door.

Rubbing her face tiredly, Abby nodded. She patted the bunk. “Bring it over here. It feels like the sea has settled down quite a bit.”

Alec sat and then transferred the tray to Abby’s lap. Eating on a rolling, pitching boat was an art. “The waves are running one to two feet, almost smooth.” He handed her the napkin and flatware.

“Thanks,” she murmured huskily. “Oh, good, you got me coffee. I feel so groggy.”

Abby’s hair was deliciously mussed from sleeping. Alec took several strands and moved them gently away from her face and across her shoulders. “Adrenaline letdown,” he explained. “After a high-stress time, the body uses up its energy source and you’ve got to sleep afterward to recoup.”

Alec’s touch was evocative. “You’re obviously no stranger to adrenaline highs,” she said, digging in hungrily to the food. Brad, who doubled as the cook on board, knew she loved pasta and had made vegetarian spaghetti for her tonight along with some crusty garlic toast.

Resting his elbows on his knees, his hands draped casually between his legs, Alec nodded. “Life on board a Soviet warship is never dull. We’re constantly training.”

Abby gave him a glance, munching on the toast. “John told me what happened on the bridge when Brad and I were out in the Zodiac.”

Alec twisted a look in her direction. “I did what I felt was needed to keep both of you safe, Abby.”

“John was pretty upset with you.”

“I was upset with him. He put more care into this boat than two human beings.”

She watched the changing shadows across his serious features and heard the emotionally charged commitment in his tone. “One of the reporters ran the entire video sequence for me in her cabin.” Abby’s voice grew husky. “You’re really something else, Alec Rostov. If they show any part of that clip back in the States, you’re going to come off like the old-fashioned hero.”