Butler Did It! (26 page)

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Butler guided the Dolphin at low speed
along the port side of the freighter until they were nearly
amidships. Popping the canopy, Butler and Tommy quickly stood on
their seats. Reaching as high up as they could, they attached two
powerful magnets to the freighter’s hull. Rigging two quick release
pulleys to tough nylon straps, they carefully winched the Dolphin
out of the waves. The two magnets held the little craft suspended
against the freighter’s side but at the mercy of the freighter’s
ponderous roll. Tommy added a third magnet, also with a quick
release on its strap, to hold the Dolphin fast to the freighter’s
hull and keep it from bouncing around.

Butler pulled out a narrow tube about
eighteen inches long. It was a low-tech device normally used for
throwing a line between ships. Originally, a small explosive charge
propelled a hook and line about one hundred-fifty feet
horizontally. In this case, Tommy had modified this one to shoot
the hook and line just high enough to carry a rubber coated
graphite hook over the freighter’s railing above them. Butler fired
the device and luckily snagged the railing first try. Tommy’s other
gadget, known as a Zip-Zip, was Tommy’s crude version of the Atlas
Power Ascender used by the US military. A small battery operated
mechanism could rapidly lift three hundred pounds up a line to a
height of twenty-five feet in about three seconds. Butler quickly
attached the Zip-Zip to the line and squeezed the device’s dead man
switch. A high pitch whirring began as the Zip-Zip began racing up
the rope. Butler hung on for dear life as the device lifted him out
of the cockpit of the Dolphin. He barely had time to prepare
himself as the sides of the ship flashed past his nose.

Butler rose so rapidly that he
literally vaulted over the railing and landed in a crouch on the
deck. He pulled out his Beretta and eased back into the shadows
near a lifeboat davit. He spent the next minute or so confirming
that the coast was clear. Finally convinced that no one had seen
him arrive, he then leaned over the railing, released the Zip-Zip
and let it zoom down the line to Tommy. Immediately the rapid
whirring began again. Five seconds later Tommy vaulted at least
three feet above the railing and nearly landed in Butler's
lap.

“Whoops! Sorry about that. That little
mother sure has some power, don't it? I can see that I’m going to
have to choke it down a tad.”

Butler ignored Tommy's commentary and
cut to the chase. “Did you bring the heat?”

“Its right here,” Tommy replied,
patting his backpack gingerly.

“Good! I'll scout aft and see what the
opposition is doing. You scout forward. If we find proof that these
guys are running guns, then we’ll plant it and scoot.”

Butler put a hand on Tommy’s shoulder.
“From now on, it’s Commando rules, Tommy. If things go bad, it’s
every man for himself.”

“Roger that.” Tommy whispered before
casting around to get his bearings. As silently as oiled velvet, he
slipped into the shadows.

Butler eased forward cautiously, until
he was crouched beneath a ladder that apparently gave access to the
bridge. Butler could easily see that the aft cargo hatch had been
cleared away and a gang of men labored in the bottom of the hold,
loading crates into a cargo net.

Observing the movement of the Ugandan
trawler tied to the starboard side of the Ambigu, it was evident to
Butler that the sea was getting rougher.

Thank God, we raised the Dolphin out
of the water
, Butler reflected,
otherwise she would have
beaten herself to death against the ship’s side
.

As Matthew slowly advanced, a hatch
accessing the bridge appeared directly ahead. Butler climbed the
ladder heading toward the well-lit bridge of the freighter. By the
sounds emanating through the hatch, it was apparent that several
people were inside. As Butler approached, he could see that a
state-of-the-art navigation console dominated the bridge. A huge
man with a black patch over one eye lounged in the helmsman's chair
smoking a cigar. His boots were up on the lip of the console and he
was blowing smoke rings toward a ventilator fan. A high tech radar
console pulsed with a regular burst of green light with every sweep
of the radar dish. The light bounced up from below into the cigar
smoker’s face, lighting the swirls of smoke a pale green, and
giving the man’s face an unnatural, macabre look. On the opposite
side of the bridge, two more men were leaning over the starboard
bridge railing, watching the preparations down in the tethered
trawler. A mob of LRA soldiers milled around on the Ugandan
trawler, apparently preparing to receive the crates being winched
out of the freighter’s hold.

Suddenly, a voice from the radio room
behind the smoker bellowed out, “The boss is on his way, ETA two
minutes.”

“Good. The sooner he gets here, the
sooner we’re done,” Black Patch growled. “Tell the crane operator
not to send any crates over until I tell him. I don't trust these
Ugandans. Pass the word to the rest of the crew to stay alert. This
bunch of bastards are psychotic.”

Within moments, a dozen heavily armed
crewmen began to line up along the starboard side. Their weapons
were predominantly AK-47s but a few carried Uzi submachine guns.
Their movements were casual, smoking and joking, but none had taken
their eyes off the Ugandans in the trawler below.

Butler decided to move away from the
bridge. He returned to the shadows under the gangway on the port
side. From where he stood, he could see two of the crewmen,
lounging on the main deck next to a tarpaulin-covered lump that
could only be a .50 caliber machine gun. While everything outwardly
appeared to be pleasant, Butler could see the underlying tension in
the Ambigu’s crewmen working on the main deck. Rising up, Butler
could just see the wheelhouse of the Ugandan trawler. The strained
nerves on the Ambigu were nothing compared to the jittery,
adrenaline-laced mood on the trawler. Every man within sight had
his weapon in hand and regarded the bigger ship with terrified,
wide-open eyes. It was obvious to Butler that neither side trusted
the other.

Moments later, Butler watched Black
Patch leave the bridge and stand near the starboard ladder,
shouting across the gap between vessels. Despite being dressed in
the same camouflage fatigues as the rest of the soldiers, the two
men he addressed were obviously the leaders of the Ugandans. The
whine of the crane, as it lifted a large cargo net from the hold,
drowned out the sound of Black Patch’s voice, but the gestures he
made indicated that he was attempting to reduce the
tension.

Soon, the additional sound of a
helicopter approaching gave Butler a momentary worry. The Dolphin
was attached to the hull on the port side, in the growing darkness,
but if the helicopter pilot circled the ship before landing on the
stern, he couldn't fail to see the little submersible.

Fortunately, the helicopter circled the
bow, and swept along the side of the Ugandan ship before settling
on the brightly lit helipad at the stern of the Ambigu. Even from a
distance, Butler knew the man who stepped out. Alexander Levasseur,
neatly dressed in a white tropical suit, climbed down from the
helicopter and walked toward the delegation of Ugandans crowded
near the starboard ladder. The white suit contrasted with the
soldiers in their army fatigues, making Xander standout like an
angel in a pigsty. Butler watched as Levasseur gave each of the LRA
leaders a hearty handshake. Butler strained his ears to hear the
conversation, but to no avail. The noise of the wind and the sea
were drowning out all but snatches of conversation. The cargo net
settled on the deck next to the delegation. At Xander’s command,
Black Patch waved to several of his crewmen to break open one of
the crates in the cargo net. With a great flourish, the man in the
white suit pulled a gun from the crate and passed it over to one of
the Ugandan leaders.

The Ugandan expertly loaded a magazine
into it. Seconds later the sound of the weapon echoed around the
ship. Butler immediately recognized the weapon by its sound. It was
an AK-47, a weapon whose unforgettable sound had been etched into
Butler’s soul once in the long dead past. The Ugandan had fired it
straight up into the air, which caused a moment of increased
tension in all the crewmen lining the Ambigu’s deck. Multiple sets
of teeth gritted, and fingers automatically tightened on triggers.
The soldiers on the trawler also tensed up, but a quick command by
the LRA leader caused them to ease off. Even from a distance,
Butler could see the white-toothed grin on the LRA leader’s
face.

It was obvious that he was pleased with
the weapons he was receiving. Within seconds, he barked another
command across to the trawler. Immediately, two soldiers standing
around the wheelhouse of the trawler dragged a small chest from
within and manhandled it up the starboard ladder on to the Ambigu’s
deck. Xander spent some time crouched over the chest, inspecting it
carefully. After several minutes, he stood, again shook hands with
the LRA leader, and passed a command over to Black Patch. As two of
the Ambigu’s crewmen picked up the chest and carried it to the
helicopter, the cargo net with the load of crated guns swung over
to the trawler deck. By the time the first crate had touched down
on the trawler's deck, Xander and the Ugandan had left the
freighter’s deck; the Ugandan headed back to his trawler and
Levasseur headed toward his helicopter.

If I'm correct
, Butler thought
to himself,
that crate holds Kobi's tribal artifacts
. Butler
thought some more.
Why would Xander trade a shipload of weapons
and ammunition for a crate of obscure artifacts? Man, this whole
deal stinks like a skunk in a sewage plant.

<<>>

Silently Tommy returned from the
forward deck of the Ambigu. Butler saw him creeping along the
passageway and hissed at him, directing him into the shadows
beneath the gangway ladder.

“Did you plant the package?”

“Yep. I put it inside the forward cargo
hold ventilator.” Tommy grinned. “It was cooking along merrily the
last time I saw it.”

Butler suddenly became alarmed. “You
set it off?”

“Yeah, I sure did. When I heard that
machine gun go off, I thought you'd been discovered, and I pulled
the pin. In about twenty minutes, it will be on the bottom of the
sea.”

“My God, Tommy, if the guns are all
crated up in the aft cargo hold, then the forward hold could only
contain the ammunition and explosives. Tommy, tell me that you
didn't put a forty pound thermite charge in the ventilator over the
ammo hold?”

“I guess I did. Sorry man, when I heard
the gunfire, I got nervous.” Butler and Tommy looked at each other
in horrified awareness of the magnitude of their
actions.

“I've seen enough to ease any guilt I
might have about sinking this ship. That thermite is going to
ignite the ammunition any time now. I think it would be a real good
idea for us to get the hell out of here.”

Even as he spoke, a dull explosion
shook the ship and fire alarms began wailing. A second, much larger
explosion tore the forward hatch cover off, sending it spiraling
high into the air. The LRA rebels, thinking the noise coming from
the ammunition hold was gunfire aimed at them, concluded that they
had been double-crossed. Immediately, they opened up with every
weapon they had.

Within seconds, the Ambigu lurched to
starboard. A cargo net full of gun crates swung over the stern of
the Rebel trawler at the same moment that the forward hatch cover
crashed down upon the crane operator, crushing him instantly. The
cargo net full of heavy crates dropped from a height of fifty feet
onto the stern of the trawler, snapping it off as if guillotined.
Immediately, the trawler began to sink.

Two Ambigu crewmen, who had wrestled
out a fire hose to douse the flames coming from the forward hold,
fell under the fire of a crazed LRA soldier who cut both of them
down with a burst of automatic fire. Seconds later that soldier
fell as the Ambigu’s .50 caliber machine gun began firing from the
stern of the freighter. After killing the soldier, the murderous
stream of copper and steel traversed the deck to the LRA leader
standing near the wheelhouse of the trawler.

Amid the confusion, Alexander Levasseur
jumped aboard his helicopter. The helicopter immediately leapt off
the canting deck as another mighty explosion rocked the ship,
sending piano-sized hunks of steel flying across the deck. The
helicopter lurched as the blast wave lifted it off the stern. Only
Levasseur’s skill as pilot prevented an aerial disaster. As it was,
the helicopter came dangerously close to the waves before
recovering and heading toward Mahe at top speed.

<<>>

Near continuous explosions shook the
Ambigu and her hull groaned another death rattle. The surviving
crewmen, fearful for their own lives, forgot about the battle with
the remainder of the LRA and scrambled to get away from the ammo
hold. Larson’s shouted orders were drowned out as muffled
explosions ripped more gaping holes in the stricken ship. The
Ambigu very slowly began to roll onto her starboard side as
compartment after compartment flooded.

Giving up on his ship and its doomed
crew, Larson raced to the bridge, hoping to radio Levasseur's
helicopter to return for him, only to discover that a heated chunk
of metal had ripped through the bulkhead and impaled the
radio.