The Collectors Book Six: Black Gold (The Collectors Series 6) (2 page)

              “Thanks, Harry. You’re a magician. It feels better already.”

              “Good, park your arse and stay out of my way.”

              After a great deal of hard dirty work four hoses led from Goliath’s deck to each tanker.

              Tony managed the pump station alternating tanks, while the others rested. A few slept. The sun rose and lit the sky as three ships tied together headed into the Atlantic Ocean.

              The woman and her team split. With a guard outside, she rested in the captain’s cabin.

              Twelve hours elapsed before Goliath’s tanks emptied. Now she towered as a huge cliff over the two tankers alongside.

              With the hoses removed, still armed with her Uzi, she sauntered onto the main deck. “Carter, you will board the remaining lifeboat and leave.”

              Daniel’s expression was angry. “I suppose you’ll sink Goliath.”

              Her eyes blazed. “You have five minutes.”

              Daniel’s shoulders slumped. “Come on men; let’s go before she changes her fucking mind.”

              She fired her Uzi into the air. “Four minutes, Mr Carter.”

              Daniel led the seven men up and through the passageways to the remaining life boat. The pirates lazing on the bridge cheered and struck each man on the back as they dashed through.

              Once secured in the lifeboat, Daniel released the craft. He tried the engine, nothing. On inspection the battery was missing. “At least we have plenty of room.”

              The men undid their safety harnesses and made themselves comfortable. Daniel pushed the hatch open and scanned the sea. Goliath, free of the other vessels turned. He secured the hatch, returned to his seat and closed his eyes.

@@@

Andy heeded the shouting first. “Lifeboat on my port bow. This is the Commanding Officer of
HMS Decoy
. I am sending a boat across.” He jumped to the hatch, shoved it open and waved at a Royal Navy destroyer less than one hundred metres away. A day-glo orange rigid raider dropped into the sea.

              In seconds, its engine started and it sped towards the lifeboat. The coxswain came alongside in one swish movement as the huge outboard idled. “Want a lift?”

              “I’ve a full house. Tow us to your ship’s side. My crew can climb your Jacob’s ladder.”

              “No probs.”

              The bow man hooked the raider’s stern line to the lifeboat. “Ready?” shouted the coxswain and without waiting he eased the throttle ahead.

              As the grey hull of the warship loomed over them, Andy counted his crew out and climbed the ladder last.

              On the main deck a lieutenant waited. As Andy clambered on board the officer asked, “Are you the ranking officer?”

              Andy nodded. “I am, until you find the rest of the crew. Who’s asking?”

              “Lieutenant Mainwaring. My captain wants a word.”

              “These men need a good hot meal, a shower and clean clothes. Can that be arranged?”

              Mainwaring beckoned to a petty officer. “Brooks, take these men to the junior rates dining room and ask the chief chef to feed them.” He turned to Andy. “Clean clothes are being organised and a shower can wait.”

              “Any chance of hoisting our lifeboat inboard?”

              Mainwaring grinned. “All arranged once we’re out of the way. Please follow me.”

              Mainwaring and Andy took the fastest route to the bridge by climbing the external ladders.

              Commander Christopher Combs stood with his hands behind his back and watched his men hoisting the lifeboat. He turned when Mainwaring’s head appeared.

              “Their senior officer, sir.”

              “Commander Combs.” He held out his hand which Andy grabbed and shook.

              “Andy Young, Second Officer, MV Goliath.”

              “Stupid question I know but why are you miles from anywhere in a lifeboat?”

              “Pirates, sir.”

              “Excuse me.” He turned. “Officer of the Watch. You have the ship, resume previous course and speed. I’ll be in my cabin. Fancy a coffee, Andy, or something a tad stronger?”

              “Coffee will be fine. Thanks.” He followed Combs to the officers’ deck.

              Five minutes later Combs returned to the bridge followed by his navigating officer, David Lawler. He ran his hand through his thinning hair and from a drawer removed a large scale chart. Keen eyes studied the sea area as he jabbed the chart with his finger. “David, according to their second officer their tanker headed west at five knots. They launched their boat twenty-six hours ago, but the engine didn’t operate. Work out their drift, add a dead reckoning and plot a course. Tell me when you’re done.” He turned. “Officer of the Watch, steer west, speed twenty-two knots.” He didn’t wait but returned to his cabin.

              Andy glanced up as Combs entered.

              “We’re on our way to find your ship. My navigator is working on his best guesstimate where it might be. Pity those bastards killed the lifeboat’s engine and radio.              Anyway, we’ll find them.”

              Andy searched for somewhere to place his empty cup.

“On my desk,” said Combs. “As a matter of etiquette, you’ll be dining in the wardroom but if you’re hungry I’ll call my steward.”

              I’ll wait but I need a shower.”

              “Use my bathroom and I’ll have the steward find you a set of clothes. I have a sub-lieutenant of similar size to you. I’m off to my bridge.”

              “Thanks for spotting us.”

              “It's what we sailors do.”

              Combs and his navigator leant on the chart table as another satellite fix marked the chart.

              “Captain, sir, I have a small but good radar contact at ten miles. Recommend alter course to close.”

              “Officer of the Watch. Agreed. Place lookouts with night vision binos on the wings.”

              “Roger, sir.”

@@@

The sea lifted and dropped the lifeboat with a gentle regularity. On board everyone, thankful to be alive, slept.

              Daniel Carter awoke with a start. “Ahoy there.” The deep voice of a man repeated.

              He rolled off his seat as he orientated himself. In two moves he unclipped the access door and peered out. The beam of a powerful lamp blinded him. “Turn that fucking light off.”

              The rigid raider from
HMS Decoy
bounced alongside. “We’ve been looking for you,” said the coxswain.

              “Been here all the time,” said Daniel. “You couldn’t give us a tow, could you? Our engine’s buggered.”

              “No probs, sir. Get one of your men to tie this line forward and we’ll be on our way. As we speak, the rest of your crew are asleep in one of our dining rooms.”

              Daniel jumped the gap between the two craft and sat in the stern.

              The coxswain heaved a life jacket at him. “Sorry, sir, but you must wear this or the skipper will nail my bollocks to the ship’s side.”

              “I know the feeling.”

              Heads peered from the craft, all eyes on
HMS Decoy
.

              Once on board, Lieutenant Mainwaring, his eyes circled by dark rings, escorted Daniel to the bridge. “Captain, sir. Daniel Carter, Chief Officer of MV Goliath.”

              “Commander Combs.” He held out his hand which Daniel shook. “Pleased we found you in one piece.”

              “So am I.  I appreciate it’s the middle of the night but I must contact my company.”

              “I wouldn’t worry. Your Andy Young has been speaking to them. Arrangements to get you home are in hand. His memory of times and ship’s position gave my team a head start on finding you.”

              “Andy’s one of the best. Any news on Goliath?”

              Combs shook his head. “If the pirates are true to form your ship will be on its way to an unregistered scrap-yard where thousands of slave workers will carve it into alien pieces. I’m told by those who know, your AIS ceased when they released most of your crew.

              “My galley has hot soup and fresh bread rolls for you and your men. I suggest you eat, shower and sleep. In fifteen hours I land you in Durban.”

              “The soup and a shower sound good. Where do I go?”

              “In the wardroom, my steward will take you. You’ll be sharing a cabin with your second. Best we can do I’m afraid.”

              “I’m alive and apart from a few bruises and a broken nose, no complaints. That murderous woman shot our captain."

              “We’ll talk later but you have a long day ahead.”

              “Thank you, Commander.”

Chapter Three

A cloudless blue sky covered Durban as
HMS Decoy
came alongside the stone jetty.

              Seamen secured stern and bow lines followed by springs. The exec turned to his captain. “Shall I finish with main engines, sir?”

              “Yes. Finish with main engines, number one. Must go and say goodbye to our guests.”

              Combs, smiling, joined Daniel, Andy, and their crew as the gangway lowered into position. On the jetty a coach waited to take them to customs and on to their hotel. In their Royal Navy dark blue overalls they looked a motley bunch.

              Daniel turned to Combs. “Thanks for everything, Commander. I can assure you we do appreciate it. Maybe one day we’ll meet again and I can offer you a drink in my cabin.”

              He shrugged. “I’d like that very much.”

              The moment the gangway was secured the Goliath’s crew ran to the waiting coach.

              Daniel’s eyes gazed forward and aft. “This is an impressive ship. I would have loved to command her. How long are you in port?”

              “Once my engineering department has refuelled and watered we head for Bahrain. Believe it or not, we start our patrol off Somalia in a week. The pirates who took over your tanker have changed their game plan.”

              The coach driver sounded his horn. “Someone’s in a hurry,” said Andy.

              “Thanks again, Commander.” Daniel and Andy shook his hand and strolled across the gangway.

@@@

Twenty miles from the west coast of India, Linda Liu checked the tidal stream and speed of Goliath. Her fingers operated the keyboard as she made minor corrections. She estimated Goliath would enter the dug channel at the peak of the spring tide.

              She lifted her sat-phone and pressed a memory key. It was answered at once. A man asked, “Is everything ready?”

              She paced from port to starboard. “The vessel is at maximum speed and on course.” The line went dead as she shoved the unit into her pocket.

              The light breeze from the north did not affect the empty Goliath as the computerised controls compensated for tidal stream, wind speed and adjusted the course. The sea changed colour from an azure blue to grey and then black as Goliath sped on. Linda scanned her approach. Aged ships of every size and type, in various stages of being broken, littered the shore. More than a dozen obsolete tankers anchored in the bay floated high in the polluted sea. The gap between a freighter and a car ferry ahead of them did not appear wide enough.

              One mile from the shore she called her men to the bridge. Each arrived carrying a mattress. “On the deck.” They knew why and laughed.

              At twenty four knots Goliath charged between the two vessels. With both hands Linda gripped the safety rail, bent her knees and stared straight ahead. The noise of destruction roared as metal tore at metal. The excitement within her came alive as the screech of steel being ripped apart became deafening. She placed one hand between her thighs and rubbed. Then with a massive jolt the bow ploughed into wet sand. The revolution counter slowed as the propellers stirred silt. The lights went out as the generator overheated. Then silence as the main engines stopped. Linda shuddered, almost collapsing on the deck.

              Gangs of men in filth-ingrained overalls descended onto the deck with cutting torches and began to carve holes in the steel and disfigure the superstructure.

              Linda’s team jumped to their feet, bounded down the central stairway and trudged across the deck. Each carried one, sometimes two, suitcases filled with items which once belonged to the crew.