Always Ready (20 page)

She crouched behind the boulders and motioned all the men in close. The rain still beat down on them, but the gale had declined to a stiff breeze. “I’m pretty sure these civilians are part of a smuggling ring. For some reason, they’re determined not to let us approach them or their boat, even though its hull is caved in. McQuillan says one of them is still on their boat. He’s probably monitoring our tactics on the boat’s radio. We can’t exactly ask Captain Raven or Bo’sun Tilley for instructions or they’d hear our plans.”

They all nodded in understanding.

“We six are all armed,” she continued. “I expect Tilley is the only one in his landing party with a gun.” Standard procedure was for the petty officer to carry a sidearm, but the seamen would not be armed unless danger was anticipated. “We have to assume all three smugglers are armed, though.”

“Right,” said Torres.

Caddie pulled in a deep breath. “It’s pretty dark now. I asked Seaman Michaels on the
Wintergreen 1
to shine his spotlights on the enemy’s position on my signal. He’s trying to hold his position behind Tilley and his men. If we rush out of the dark, we have a pretty good chance of overrunning the enemy position or at least of relieving Tilley and his men.”

“Tilley will help as soon as we make our move,” McQuillan said.

“Yes, if he still has ammo.”

The men nodded soberly and checked their weapons.

“I’ll give them one more chance to give it up,” Caddie said. She pressed the call button on her radio.

“This is
Wintergreen 2
landing party. Request
Wintergreen 1
order hostiles to surrender, and if declined, go with our plan. Over.”

“Affirmative,” said Captain Raven. “Michaels, proceed.”

Seconds later, the seaman’s voice boomed out over the loudspeaker from the workboat, shouting down the wind. “This is the U.S. Coast Guard. Lay down your weapons and raise your hands over your head.”

Caddie and her men inched up the rocks and peered down at the other side of the island.

“Repeat. Lay down your weapons and prepare to be approached by Coast Guard personnel.”

A shot rang out from near the beached boat. A man popped up from behind the rocks that covered Tilley’s party and squeezed two shots from a pistol, then ducked down again.

Caddie’s blur of an impression told her that the man was not Tilley. Why was someone other than the boatswain shooting?

The men sheltering in and behind the
Miss Faye IX
let loose a barrage of fire directed toward Tilley’s party. The workboat’s floodlights came on, throwing the scene into bright relief.

“Now.” Caddie swung around the boulder that had shielded her and hopped to the next rock, holding her pistol before her.

One of the smugglers, crouching between their boat’s bow and a black rock, jerked around and stared toward them.

Caddie recognized the large, bearded figure of Spruce Waller. His long gun came up, pointing at her men, and Caddie let off a round in his general direction, not pausing long enough to get a good aim.

The man flattened himself behind the hull of the boat.

All around her, pistols discharged. She reached a fairly flat stretch of rocks and ran forward, brandishing her weapon. To her left, her peripheral vision caught the shadows of two men leaping up from Tilley’s position and running forward.

The man in the smugglers’ boat went down. Spruce Waller rose on his knees and fired, then jerked back onto the ground, his weapon flying to one side.

McQuillan tackled the third man on the jagged rocks, and two others ran to assist him.

Caddie hastily collected their adversaries’ weapons while her men secured the prisoners. “How bad is the wounded man?” she asked Torres.

“Petty Officer Lyle!”

She whirled toward the voice.

One of Tilley’s men waved frantically. “The bo’sun’s hit!”

Fourteen

Aven’s stomach churned as he waited for his orders.

The
Milroy
passed the much larger
Wintergreen
and drove steadily toward the small workboat near the rocky island in the bay. The radio chatter had lessened and all but stopped during the last few minutes. The rain seemed to let up, but a drizzle still dampened everything, and the cold wind kept working conditions uncomfortable.

His men waited with him on the dark deck, staring toward their destination—a pile of black rocks with a constant warning buoy. The temporary addition of small boats looked innocent from this distance.

A sudden glare of floodlights illuminated the island, and with binoculars, Aven could see figures moving about. The
Milroy
’s engine and the wind drowned any sound from the tableau, but from this side, it looked like a miniature battle. Had the
Wintergreen
’s crew forced a confrontation with the drug smugglers?

At last his radio came to life again.

A man’s voice drawled in an almost bored tone, “
Wintergreen,
this is
Wintergreen 2.
We have two casualties needing medical assistance. One of them is a prisoner. Total three prisoners requiring transport. Request permission to transfer prisoners and our wounded to the
Wintergreen.
Over.”

Captain Raven of the
Wintergreen
replied, “Negative,
Wintergreen 2.
Law enforcement cutter
Milroy
approaching. Hand prisoners over to them unless critical medical care is needed. Transport our wounded personnel to
Wintergreen.
”

Aven’s adrenaline surged. One of the
Wintergreen
’s crew was wounded, as well as one of the prisoners. Was Caddie safe?

❧

Caddie hurried with Seaman Jackson to the place where Tilley and his two men had crouched behind the rocks.

Tilley lay on his side, both hands clamped to his thigh.

“They hit him right away,” Jackson said.

Caddie frowned at him. “Why didn’t you report it?”

“He didn’t want them to know they’d got him. They might have rushed us. And he knew you were on the way.”

She climbed over a rounded rock and knelt at the boatswain’s side. “Tilley, how you doing?”

Pain flickered across his taut features. “Not so good. It’s bleeding a lot.”

“We’ll get you out of here. I’ve got one of my men calling it in. We’ll transport you immediately to the
Wintergreen.
” She noted the position of the wound. To her relief, the entrance wound was on the outside of his thigh. Probably it hadn’t severed the femoral artery. “Do you think the bullet hit the bone?”

“Not sure. Maybe not. All I know is it hurts.”

“Let me put some pressure on it, if you can stand it. We’ll put you in the Zodiac and get you out to the ship.”

Engine noises nearly drowned her words and obscured the now-busy radio traffic. She turned to look down the bay and saw a ship approaching. Not the
Wintergreen
, but a patrol boat half as big. Reinforcements. She grinned. A law enforcement cutter. No doubt the crew was ready to land, armed to the teeth. She squeezed Tilley’s leg at the point of the wound. He groaned but didn’t protest.
That’s good,
she thought. Knowing him, if it were broken, he’d be cussing a blue streak.

Gavin came to her side. “McQuillan has gone to help Morrison beach the Zodiac.”

Tilley said between his clenched teeth, “Did you search that boat yet?”

“Not yet.” Caddie looked up at McQuillan. “Can you take over here? Pressure on the wound until we get him to the hospital corpsman.”

She let the seaman take her place and rose. Three of her men had brought the prisoners together on the rocks facing the
Wintergreen 1
.

“Libby,” she called. “Come with me.”

She and the seaman approached the damaged boat.

Caddie climbed into the
Miss Faye IX
and quickly made sure no one else was aboard. The cabin seemed warm and quiet, since the wind no longer howled about her. When she saw the sophisticated radio equipment, she pursed her lips, but they were too chapped to whistle. Clay Waller knew where to put his money.

“Lyle.”

She turned toward Libby’s voice.

“Take a look in these lockers.”

She walked to his side and peered into the cupboard he’d opened. A crate full of plastic bags lay inside. Each bag bulged with a white powder.

“I’m betting it’s cocaine,” Libby said.

They quickly opened more lockers. Caddie had never seen so much contraband. She put in a call on her radio.

“
Wintergreen,
this is
Wintergreen 2
. We have a cargo on the hostiles’ vessel that appears to be narcotics.”

“
Wintergreen 2,
I copy,” came her captain’s voice. “Turn all evidence over to the petty officer now landing from the
Milroy.
”

Caddie jerked her head up and stared toward the cutter now anchored just beyond the workboat Tilley had commanded. She smiled for the first time all evening. Aven had arrived with the cavalry.

❧

Mark came directly to the
Miss Faye IX
. “Lyle!” He grinned at her. “Looks like you got the job done, hey?”

“I think so. Captain Raven says to turn this pile of contraband over to you.” She shined her flashlight on a part of the drug stash.

“Happy to accept.” Mark glanced around then leaned toward her. “Aven was worried sick about you. Better show your face outside.”

She felt her face flush. When she left the cabin, Libby was waiting to give her a hand as she climbed over the gunwale and dropped to the rocks below. They scrambled over the boulders toward the
Milroy
’s landing party.

Aven had his back to her as he helped lift Tilley into the Zodiac manned by Seamen Morrison and McQuillan. As soon as he was settled, Tilley growled, “Let’s move. Somebody radio the
Wintergreen
and tell them.”

“Got it,” Aven called and shoved the Zodiac off the rocks. He turned, reaching for his radio. As he spotted Caddie, his face broke into a huge smile. “This is
Milroy 1
,” he said into the transmitter. “Inform
Wintergreen
her boatswain is being transported in
Wintergreen 2
, who requests permission to come alongside.”

He took two long strides to reach Caddie. They stood for a moment in the cold mist, appraising each other.

What was he thinking? If the men weren’t here, would he light into her for endangering herself? Would he take Tilley’s tack and berate her for wanting to do “a man’s job”?

Aven nodded slowly. “Looks to me as though you did a good job, Petty Officer.”

❧

Three weeks later, Caddie got her lunch tray in the mess hall and sat down with Lindsey.

“What’s up?” Lindsey asked, lowering her voice so that it reached Caddie beneath the level of the chatter surrounding them. “You’ve been smiley-eyed all morning. Did you get a message from Holland?”

Caddie chuckled. “I don’t know anyone in Holland.”

“Very funny. You know who I mean.”

“Did you realize that when we dock it will be less than a week until Thanksgiving?”

“No,” Lindsey said, “I didn’t know that. But I guess you don’t want to talk about whatever it is that’s—”

She stopped talking, and the lunchtime buzz dropped away as suddenly. Caddie looked toward the hatch. Captain Raven had just entered. He walked to the middle of the room.

“At ease, everyone. I have an announcement—the kind I like making in person.” His gaze darted about the room, lingering for a moment on Caddie and Lindsey. “It’s my pleasure to tell you that BM3 Lyle is now BM2 Lyle. Congratulations, Second Class Bo’sun’s Mate.”

Caddie nodded, blushing, as the twenty men present, along with Lindsey and Vera Hotchkiss, began clapping and cheering.

“Thanks!” Caddie waved and concentrated on her food.

“I’m also pleased to report that Bo’sun Tilley is doing well. However, he’s got several weeks of rehab ahead, and he’s decided to take retirement. He won’t be returning to the
Wintergreen
.”

A surprised murmur rippled over the room.

“Carry on,” the captain said. He smiled at Caddie and left the compartment.