The Inside Passage (Ted Higuera Series Book 1) (28 page)

Double Bay, Canada

The
Defiant
motored
out of Port McNeil and down the Broughton Straits to Double Bay. It was too
late and they were too tired to sail. After the episode in the fog, navigating
the few miles in darkness presented no problem.

Chris threaded his
way into the bay by GPS while Ted took up his post on the bow, watching for
rocks. After working through the narrow entrance, they were completely
surrounded by land.

Steep, wooded hillsides
dropped dramatically into the black water of the long, narrow bay. Here and
there patches of rock poked above the surface, reflecting the weak moonlight.
The cove itself seemed all but deserted. Except for the luxurious fishing
resort with a private dock, Ted saw no signs of human habitation.

“Let go the
anchor,” Chris yelled forward. Meagan, with Oscar cradled in her arms, sat on
the forward hatch, supervising.

“How much rope
should I let out?” Ted shouted back.

“Rode, dufus,
rode,” Meagan’s voice sounded tired. “How many times do we have to tell you,
there’s
no rope on a boat
?”

“What’s the big
deal,
chica
?” Ted pulled the pin on the shackle that held the anchor.
“As far as Teddy’s concerned, a rope is a rope is a rope.”

“Ninety feet
should do it,” Chris shouted up to the bow.

The chain rattled
out of the anchor locker, followed by the golden nylon line.

“Okay, back her
down,” Ted called back. He was getting good at this anchoring stuff.

Chris completed
the anchoring and shut down the engine. A tomb-like silence hung over the cove.
Ripples gently slapped against the sloop’s hull, the only movement in the
world.

“I guess everyone
in that fishing lodge goes to bed early.” Ted felt like he had to keep his
voice down as he returned to the cockpit followed by Meagan and Oscar.

“They have to get
up early to go fishing.” Chris coiled down the jib sheets and hung them on the
cockpit winches. “They probably turn in early. We should hit the sack too.”

Chris and Ted
tidied the deck without another word while Meagan and Oscar went below.

“Chris,” Meagan
popped her head through the companionway with Chris’ Blackberry in her hand.
“It’s Jack. On your cell phone. He sounds upset.”

Chris grabbed the
phone. “Hello?”

Ted could hear
Jack’s voice, but couldn’t make out the words.

“Yes,” Chris
answered. “We’re right where you told us to go. . . Jack, we had another incident.”

He paused while
Jack spoke.

“Yeah, someone cut
the
Defiant
loose. They set her adrift to run up on the reef. We just
barely saved her.”

Ted made out a few
choice cuss words, in Jack’s strong brogue.

“What should we do
now?” Chris had a puzzled look on his face.

Ted heard more
mumbled words.

“Okay. What kind
of package?” Chris took the phone away from his ear. “He hung up.” Chris stared
down at his cell phone.

“What did he say?”
Meagan asked. “What’s going on?”

“He sounded
worried.” Chris brushed his unruly blond hair out of his eyes. “He said someone
didn’t want us snooping around.”

“Well?” Meagan
bounced on her toes when she was impatient. “What does he want us to do?”

“He wouldn’t say.
He said the cell phone wasn’t secure.” Chris turned off his phone and stowed it
on the shelf above the chart table. “He didn’t even want me to say the name of
the anchorage. He said he’d have a package flown in to us in the morning.”

“A package?” Ted
descended the ladder and closed the companionway hatch above him. “What kind of
package? And where do we go to pick it up? There’s no airport around here.”

“It’s all airport
around here.” Meagan waved her hand in an all-encompassing gesture. “Up here,
they use sea planes. They can land on water anywhere.”

***

Ted lay in his
bunk in the after cabin, listening to the gymnastics in the forepeak.
Don’t
those guys ever get tired of that? You’d think they’d worn each other out by
now.
He thought of the girl at McCarthy’s bar, her long brown hair, her
puppy dog eyes. Should he have ditched his friends for her?

He dropped off to
a fitful sleep, only to be awakened by yet another round of moans from the
forward cabin.

These damn
walls are so thin. Don’t they care that I can hear everything?

He tossed and
turned, listening to the rustling of sheets and groans from the forward cabin.
Fully awake, his mind churned at top speed.
Who set the
Defiant
loose? Was that Yves guy really mixed up with the terrorists? How long did they
have? The
Star of the Northwest
was due any day now. Was it tomorrow?

The sounds from
the forepeak were too much for him to bear. “Can’t you guys knock it off in
there?” He beat his fist against the bulkhead. He heard Meagan’s giggle in
reply.

Climbing out of
the quarter berth, he pulled on his sweats, grabbed his pillow and a blanket,
and climbed the companionway ladder.

He emerged on deck
to a spectacular sky. The moon and stars gave a ghostly glow to the landscape.
Man,
we don’t have stars like this in LA. That’s funny. I didn’t think we anchored
this close to those rocks.

“Shit! Chris,
Meagan, get out here! Right now!”

***

William and Mary Island, Canada

“Everything is
ready?” Yasim entered Ahmad’s workshop.

“All the work is
done.” Ahmad looked up from his work bench. “I’ve learned to always expect
problems though. I need more time for testing. I’m not positive everything’ll
work.”

“If Allah wills
it, it will work.” Yasim turned abruptly to leave the shop.

From somewhere
outside, Qayyum shouted to the camp.

“What’s he
saying?” Ahmad followed Yasim out of the shed.

“He says is time.”
Yasim replied. “We must begin loading for mission.” 

“But I’m not
ready. The testing . . .”

“We have no more
time.” Yasim snapped at him. “Cursed helicopter moved up time schedule.”

Mohammed spoke to
Qayyum in Arabic. Qayyum answered.

“I asked him when
the target will be there.” Mohammed translated. “He says he received a
communication from one of our brothers in Seattle. The target will be in
position by nine o’clock tomorrow morning. He says we must make haste. Pack
only what you need for the mission. Everything else can be left here.”

Ahmad exchanged
glances with Kalil. Butterflies churned in his stomach.
So, this is it.
Allah be with us.
“Won’t that give the infidels some clues?” Ahmad asked.
“Let them know who we are?”

Mohammed
translated the question. “He says that’s the whole idea. He wants them to know
who has attacked them. He says that he wants them to fear the Right Hand of
God.”

“But why? That’ll
help them catch us.”

Mohammed and
Qayyum exchanged words.

“He says he can
assure us they won’t catch us. It’s not in Allah’s plan. We’ll accomplish our
mission. He says there is no chance they’ll catch any of us.”

Ahmad felt a
queasiness in the pit of his stomach. “How’re we going to get away? He hasn’t
told us the whole plan yet.”

“We must maintain
secrecy,” Yasim interrupted. “You know only what you need to know to carry out
your part of mission. Leave jobs of others to others. Qayyum has provided for
us. When we have completed mission, I will take care of the rest.”

****

Double Bay, Canada

“Jesus Christ!”
Ted stubbed his toe on a deck fitting as he dashed forward in the dark.

“What is it?”
Chris yelled as he and Meagan came running. “What’s wrong?”

Ted hardly noticed
that they were both buck naked.

“Our anchor line.”
Ted hopped around on one foot. “Dude, someone’s cut our anchor line.”

“God damn.” Chris
looked at the neatly cut line in Ted’s hand. “I’ll get the engine started. Meg,
help Ted rig the spare anchor.”

Chris ran back to
the cockpit and started the engine, easing the
Defiant
away from the
rocks. Ted didn’t have time to respond to his friends’ nudity. He jumped into
the chain locker and handed up a rusty old Danforth anchor to Meagan. Meagan
fastened a short length of chain to it.

“We don’t have
much spare chain. I think this is only about ten feet or so. I hope it’s
enough.”

Ted watched her
bolt the chain to the anchor, then attach the remaining nylon line to the free
end of the chain. “It’s a good thing you’re a Boy Scout,” he said as Meagan’s
fingers flew. “I could never tie a knot like that.”

“Boy Scout, no.
Sailor, yes. My dad made me learn all the knots when I was nine.”

“Yeah, you’re
right. I can see you’re no Boy Scout. You’re Girl Scout all the way.”

Meagan’s hands
froze for an instant. Ted smiled.

“Oh, what the
hell,” she said after an instant’s hesitation. “We have to save the boat.” She
finished her work with the anchor.

“Okay, Chris,” She
yelled back. “We’re ready.”

Chris brought the
boat to a halt. Ted dropped the spare anchor over the bow. In a few moments,
the
Defiant
was once again secure.

“Hey, it’s been
really nice working with you,
chica
,” Ted said. “Now I know you’re a
true blond.”

“Fuck off and
die.” Meagan smiled as she gave Ted the bird and turned back to the cockpit.

In the dark, her
tiny white bottom reminded him of a white-tailed deer. “Nice ass,” he called
after her.
It was all Ted could do to keep from
laughing at his friend’s discomfort.

“You better get
some clothes on, sweets.” Chris said as Meagan jumped down into the cockpit.

“What about you,
big boy?” Meagan asked. “You’re not exactly dressed for the prom.”

Chris looked down
at himself. “It’s different for me. Who’s gonna see me anyway? Ted?”

“Double standard.”
She turned and dropped down the companionway ladder.

****

That was a
close one.
Ted plopped down on the port settee.
These guys are gettin’
serious.

“I think we need
to post an anchor watch,” Chris said as the three, now fully clothed, sat
around the mess table in the light of a propane lantern. “I’ll go first. We
can’t afford to let that happen again.”

Oscar hopped down
from the pilot berth and climbed into Meagan’s lap.

 “Who cut our
anchor line?” Meagan scratched between Oscar’s ears. “Do you think it was the
Arabs?”

“Probably,” Chris
said. “Or it might have been Yves’ goons.”

 “It had to be
Yves.” Ted got up and retrieved three bottles of water from the ice chest.
“It’s just too much of a coincidence. First the boat is cast loose, then the
anchor line is cut. How did they know where we were?”

“Maybe they
followed us?” Meagan broke the seal on her bottle and took a sip. Oscar batted
at the bottle. “If they could cast us adrift in Port McNeil, they could follow
us here.”

“I didn’t see any
other boats out there tonight.” Ted looked over his shoulder as if he could
peer through the fiberglass hull to the strait beyond the bay.

“They could’ve
been running without lights,” Chris said. “They could’ve used a fast little
inflatable. They could’ve used a float plane or a helicopter. Who knows, maybe
they could drive along the road and see us out here?”

“We didn’t hear
any boat motors.” Meagan clung to the tabby like a teddy bear. “We usually hear
the propellers in the water.”

“That Captain
Evans dude!” Ted’s remembered something Yves had told them. “Yves said he was
an ex-Navy seal. He could have swum in under water.”

“However they did
it.” Meagan let Oscar twist free. “They know we’re here. They want us to go
away.”

“Yeah,” Ted said.
“Permanently.”

“I’ll keep an
anchor watch for the rest of the night.” Chris got up and retrieved his parka
from the hanging locker. “You guys get some sleep. We’ll see what Jack is
sending us in the morning.”

“Chris.” Meagan
pulled at Chris’ wrist. “Don’t you think we’ve done enough? Maybe we’re in over
our heads. Maybe we should just go home before someone really gets hurt.”

“No way.” Ted
couldn’t let them give up. “If they’re after the
Star of the Northwest
,
Chris’ dad is on that boat. We can’t let them do anything that’d hurt him.”

“Yeah, and Sarah
too,” Chris said. “We’ve got to make sure it’s safe. Whatever Jack’s sending us
should help. He said he knew people.”

William and Mary Island, Canada

“I don’t like not
knowing our escape plan.” Ahmad trudged to the storage shed with Hani, Mohammed
and Kalil. Fog swirled through the tree tops above them.

The four began
loading SAM missiles and AK-47s into the back of the old pickup.

“What if something
happens to Yasim?” Ahmad hoisted a wooden case into the truck bed. The sun
tried valiantly to break through. “Who’ll know how to get us out of there?”

“Qayyum says that
the plan is made,” Kalil replied, shoving in a case of his own. “That should be
enough for you.”

“And how about
Qayyum?” Ahmad asked as they returned to the shed for another load. “Why isn’t
he going with us? I heard he’ll leave the island on the inflatable after we
go.” 

“Maybe he’s
preparing our escape route,” Mohammed lifted a heavy case of ammunition. “Maybe
he needs to contact other operatives to tell them the mission is on. He’s been
coming and going the entire time we’ve been on the island.”

They loaded the
truck and drove it down the crude logging road to the bay. With a ton of ordinance
behind him, Ahmad caught his breath each time they hit a rut or a pot hole.

The heavy forest
fell away at the rocky shoreline. Sand pulled at Ahmad’s boots as they reversed
the process on the beach and unloaded their gear onto the SeaLander. Hani
ferried it out to the
Valkyrie
to stow. Their preparation took most of
the day.

The Exocet was the
most difficult job. They hoisted the nearly two-thousand pound missile onto the
truck and strapped it down. Kalil took extra care on the rough road. At the
beach, they used the tripod and block and tackle to hoist it onto the SeaLander.
Seagulls circled overhead, squawking, indifferent to the deadly drama below
them.

Although Yasim had
assured them that there was no chance of the missile exploding without the
detonator, they were sweating and nervous by the time Hani brought the SeaLander
alongside the
Valkyrie
.

Loading the
missile into the homemade launcher was no easy task. The boom and winches on
board the fishing boat were more than adequate to lift the load, but
maneuvering the missile into the launcher required precision.

“It’s done.” Ahmad
wiped the sweat from his brow. Not a breath of air stirred in the bay. He
looked out over the still water. “Now I have to arm the missile and test the
guidance system.”

****

Double Bay, Canada

A ray of sunlight
struck Ted’s eyes. He grimaced and pulled a pillow over his head. Behind him in
the galley, he heard the unmistakable sound of the coffee grinder.
Can’t
they just sleep in another half hour?

The companionway
hatch slid open and Chris’ feet appeared on the ladder.
Shit, I guess the
day’s beginnin’.

 “I thought you’d
like some coffee.” Meagan pushed down the handle on the French press. “It must
have been totally chilly out there all night.”

“I froze my damned
ass off.” Chris took a steaming mug from Meagan.

“Anything else
happen last night?” She asked.

“No, it was
quiet.” Chris was too damned awake for this early in the morning.

“Damn, I can’t
sleep with all that racket.” Ted fought his way to full consciousness. As
usual, Oscar was curled up in a ball on his chest. “What time is it?”

Chris glanced at
this wrist watch. “A little before seven.”

“Well, we got time
for breakfast before Jack’s package arrives.” Ted gently shoved the cat aside,
extracted himself from his berth and pulled on his jeans. “What do you guys
want?”

“Random.” Meagan
mocked surprise. “You’re not only volunteering to cook, you’re taking
requests?”

“Yeah, it was a
rough night. I thought I’d be easy on you.”

“Well, in that
case, French toast.” Meagan said. “Coffee’s already done.”

The
chica
was just as perky as her boyfriend this morning.

After breakfast
Meagan stepped into the galley and started cleaning up. “Whoa!” Ted teased.
“Since when do you do dishes?”

“Well, no one else
was getting up. If you were a gentleman, you’d have already volunteered to do
them.”

“Yeah,” Ted said.
“Well, last night I could see that you weren’t no gentleman neither.” No one
appreciated Ted’s humor more than Ted himself.

“Degenerate.”
Meagan snapped Ted with the end of the towel and returned to her work smiling.

Meagan finished
the dishes and Chris did his morning check of the boat.

They heard the buzz
of an engine in the distance. “You hear that?” he asked. “It sounds like a
plane.” He slid the companionway hatch open and bounded up the stairs.

The strengthening
sun began to dissipate the light morning mist. In the daylight Ted got a better
view of the harbor. Nearly landlocked, the bay cut deep into the north shore of
Hanson Island. Firs climbed the steep slope from the shoreline to the crest, a
couple of hundred feet above him.

At low tide, in
broad daylight, he saw the litter of rocks at the bay’s entrance.
How stupid
was that?
They had picked their way through the rock pile in the dark. Was
Chris that good or that lucky?

“There it is.”
Meagan, who came on deck after him, pointed towards the southeast.

Ted saw a small
dark speck moving rapidly towards them. It grew into a red and white Cessna 180
float plane. The plane buzzed the cove, waggling its wings.

“That must be him.
He’s telling us that he’s landing.” Chris dropped the swim steps into the
water. “Get in the dinghy. Let’s be ready for him.”

“Chris. Are you
sure it’s the right plane?” Meagan stood rooted to the deck. “Remember what
Yves said about his crew? That each one of them had a specialty?”

“Yeah. So what?”

“Madame Trufaunt.”
Meagan’s flashed Chris a pleading look. “That crazy French lady. He said she
could fly anything with wings. What if it’s her? They know that we’re here,
they cut our anchor line last night.”

“Oh shit. Now what
do we do?”

“Get in the
dinghy, dude.” Ted stepped onto the swim steps. “We don’t get close to that
plane ‘til we can see who’s flyin’ it. If it is the bitch, we get out of here,
pronto. We’re a lot faster and more maneuverable in the dinghy. On the boat
we’re sittin’ ducks.”

They donned their
life jackets and followed Ted down into the dinghy. Chris pulled the cord on
the outboard. It fired right up.

“Cast off,” Chris
ordered.

Ted untied the
painter from the
Defiant
and settled into his seat in the bow.

They watched the
Cessna fly back out over the Straight and approach the cove from the north with
its flaps down. It glided lower and slower, until the floats kissed the water.
At first, they threw up a fine spray. Then, as the weight of the plane settled
on the floats, large rooster tails trailed behind them. The red tips of the
propeller made a solid ring around the front of the plane.

It was a beautiful
sight, but was it bringing safety or danger?

The plane slowed
to a near stop and taxied toward the cove. Working through the rocky entrance,
the plane made its way to the center of the cove and cut its engine. Ted’s
heart was in this throat.

Chris kept them
off the plane’s left wing, keeping the dinghy between the plane and the bay’s
entrance. If they had to run, they would be able to escape to open water.

Ted’s felt his
pulse pounding in his ears.

“Can you tell
who’s in that plane yet?” Chris asked.

“It’s okay,
Chris.” Meagan let out a sign of relief. “There’s some guy flying it.”

“
Cuidado
,
dude,” Ted spoke quietly, in spite of the roar of the outboard. “We don’t know
who this guy is. He could still be one of Yves’ flunkies.”

Chris cautiously
motored the dinghy up to the pilot’s door

“Other side,
friend,” the pilot shouted over the grumble of the outboard, motioning with his
hand.

Chris worked the
dinghy around to the other side of the plane.

Ted was astonished
to see Jack slowly lower himself down the steps and onto the float.

“There yez are,
children. Come pick up ol’ Jack.”

“Jack,” Chris
shouted. “What the hell are you doing here? I thought you said you were sending
us a package.”

“I was, lad. I
did. I’m the package.”

Chris and Ted held
the dinghy tight to the float while Jack reached into the plane’s cabin and
retrieved a canvas bag, then handed it down to Meagan.

“Take this, Lass.”

“Jeeze, Jack.”
Meagan accepted the bag and set it on the floor boards. “That’s heavy, what’s
in here? Bricks?”

“No, darlin’.
Winnie.”

“Winnie?”

Jack took Meagan’s
hand and stepped painfully down into the dinghy. He waved to the pilot, then
seated himself on the center thwart next to Meagan. Ted pushed the dinghy away
from the float and Chris opened the throttle. The roar of the outboard cut off
further conversation. Meagan put her hands around Jack’s arm and nuzzled her
head into his shoulder.

Chris turned the
dinghy around and headed back to the
Defiant.

****

Ted followed Chris
up the
Defiant’s
swim steps while the float plane taxied out of the bay.
He turned to see Jack grab hold stiffly and tug himself up. Meagan, standing in
the dinghy behind him, put her hands on Jack’s hips and helped the old man.

“’Tis a sad day
when ol’ Jack needs the help of a charmin’ young lass to board a boat.”

“Oh, come on,
Jack. You just wanted me to feel you up.” Meagan bounded up the ladder behind
him.

“I have news for
yez, children. It’s not good.” Jack and Meagan sat in the cockpit while Chris
secured the dinghy and Ted raised the swim step. As the float plane disappeared
into the distance, the quiet of a tomb settled over the bay. “There was a video
on TV last night. A group of Arab terrorists beheaded two poor fishermen. The
authorities dinna ken who they were or where they were, but they played the
whole thing on CBC.”

“Oh my God!”
Meagan’s hand went to her throat. “That could have been us.”

Ted turned from
the swim step so fast that he almost lost his balance.
These guys must be
for real.
If they’d behead a couple of fishermen, then they wouldn’t
hesitate to use that missile to blow up a cruise ship.  “Shit . . . you mean
like on the videos from Iraq?” Ted’s voice was hushed and slow.

“There’s more.”
Jack’s voice dropped. “I asked an ol’ friend of mine, a helicopter pilot, to
take a run up to William and Mary Island to see what was goin’ on. I was
talkin’ to him on the phone when he said they fired a SAM at him. Then the
phone went dead. I think they got him.”

“Oh, Jack.”
Meagan’s voice cracked. “I’m so sorry.” She squeezed Jack’s hand.

Chris gulped. “Was
he close, Jack?”

“Aye, Laddie. We
go all the way back to ‘Nam.”

Viet Nam
?
Ted tossed that around in his head.
Jack is way too old to have been in Viet Nam. That’s Papa’s era.
“Who
are
these guys?” Ted asked.

“I dinna ken yet,
but I do know they’re a bad lot. They’ve murdered at least three people. They
wouldna hesitate to kill more to accomplish their objective.”

They sat in the
cockpit, motionless, as they absorbed Jack’s words. The light mist hung in the
still morning air.

Chris finally
spoke. “What do you think their objective is?”

“I think y’ three
had it right. I think they’re ginna sink a cruise ship. My friend said that
they had a big steel box on the after deck of a fishin’ boat. I think that’s a
launch platform for the Exocet missile.”

Ted pictured the
cruise ship exploding. He could see Harry, Candace and Sarah flailing in the
cold, green water.

“I already lost
Mom.” Chris straightened his back, balled his fists. “I’ll be damned if I let
these sons a bitches get Dad and Sarah too.”

“I dinna ken how
many missiles they have.” Jack interrupted Chris. “Did y’ see more than one?”

“No.” Chris’ eyes
looked up and to the right. He was accessing his amazing memory. “There was
only the one big crate. All of the other crates were small.”

“Good, if they
only have one missile, they have t’ get real close t’ make sure they get a hit.
Those things are notoriously unreliable.”

“Unreliable?”
Meagan’s face scrunched up.

“Yes, darlin’.
They dinna have a good track record, but I wouldna want to be on the receivin’
end of the one that does work.”

“What’re we going
to do?” Ted asked.

“We’ll do whatever
it takes.” A sharp edge tinged Chris’ voice.

 “We’ll meet the
Star
of the Northwest,
Laddie. We have to stop her from comin’ out of Johnstone Strait. That’s where they’ll attack. It’s the narrowest point on their passage.
There’s no room t’ maneuver. A cruise ship there would be a sittin’ duck.”

Meagan shifted her
weight and bumped against Jack’s bag. ““Ow. What’s in this thing anyway?”

“Oh, an ol’ friend
of mine.” Jack unzipped the bag and started producing pieces of a gun.

It looked vaguely
familiar. “What the hell is that?” Ted asked.

“Crew, I’d like
yez to meet Winnie. Winifred Maxwell. Named for the Countess of Nithsdale, who
freed her husband from the Tower of London. She’s been with me since Korea.” Jack started to assemble the weapon.

Chris’ face lit
up. “Ít’s a Sten gun.”

“I hate guns.” Ted
stared at the ugly weapon.

“Well, Lad, Winnie
has seen me out o’ more than one tight spot.”

“What is it?”
Meagan asked. “I’ve never seen a gun like that before.”

“It’s like you see
in the World War II movies.” Chris said. “I used to watch them with my Dad when
I was a kid. It’s the kind of gun British commandos used.”