Clive Cussler (7 page)

This time, as they passed an obviously stressed race official fiercely waving a black flag at them, Lacey stuck out her tongue at him. Angered that his attempt to stop the powerboat was ignored, he got even angrier at seeing Lacey make faces at him and threw the flag down on the deck of the boat and stomped on it. As Hotsy Totsy whipped past the official boat, Casey and Lacey, normally courteous and thoughtful, couldn't help laughing.

"He didn't look happy," said Casey.

"They just don't understand that we're not going to quit," Lacey said seriously.

"We're in the race from start to finish. Nicefolks never quit."

On board the official boat the race director, who had tried to black-flag the twins, was madder than a crab in a trap. "How are we going to stop those crazy kids?" he asked another race official.

A man wearing a captain's cap with a braid and a blue blazer pointed up at the news helicopter. "Because of those kids and their old boat, we're generating more interest in the race than if the president of the United States was here."

The race director stared at Hotsy Totsy as it roared up the river. He looked at the television cameras mounted atop tracks along the riverbanks. "Yes," he agreed reluctantly. "More people are watching this race than ever before. But regardless of the publicity and interest, those kids can't be legally qualified as participants."

The official smiled. "I think we'll be safe in giving them a small trophy."

"I'll go along with that," said the director. He stared at the boats disappearing up the river. "Whatever became of that black boat that nearly crashed into some of the boats yesterday? I don't see it registered to participate."

"I was told the San Francisco police reported a bank robbery downtown. It was thought the bandits escaped in a black powerboat."

The director looked confused. "What happened to them?"

"Nobody seems to know," the official said with a shrug. "It's as though they disappeared into thin air."

Lacey studied the charts in her lap, now splattered by all the water that had been thrown into the cockpit of the boat. "A sweeping turn coming up," she alerted Casey. "Then it's under the Sinclair Freeway bridge and into the mouth of the river."

"It will be nice to enjoy the smoother water ahead," said Casey, happy the river was flatter than the water in San Francisco Bay. He felt as if he and Hotsy Totsy were one. The boat and he had created a rhythm. The big Wright aircraft engine was running smoothly without a miss, and as time went on, the speedy little craft increased her pace, working her way through the fleet until she was passing boat after boat.

"How do we stand?" asked Casey.

Lacey made a rough count of the boats she could see up the bay. "Twenty-eighth, we've moved up to twenty-eighth."

Ahead, two more boats were limping off the course. The red boat Rum Tum Tum had sucked up a plastic bag from the water into its cooling system, and Tin Lizzie was having mechanical problems. So on they went. Now they were twenty-sixth.

Hotsy Totsy pulled even with the blue-and-gold- striped powerboat that had become her nemesis. One minute Zippity Doo forged in front, then Hotsy Totsy, then Zippity Doo. Together, Casey and the magical powerboat made a wide fast turn to line up a heading between two yellow buoys that marked the race course into the bay. Zippity Doo stayed right with her.

Casey began to think Hotsy Totsy was merely playing with the other boat. The crowds of people lining the shore were madly cheering the varnished mahogany hull to pull ahead of the brilliantly painted powerboat. They were hypnotized by the spectacular action and glamour of speed.

Each boat would take the lead and then lose it. Zippity Doo's pilot pulled every trick in the book to outdistance Hotsy Totsy but couldn't gain the lead for more than a mile before Casey forged past.

They were catching up to the main fleet and passing other boats strung out along the course. Their crews were stunned to see an old V-shaped hull battling it out with a modern, carbon-fiber-hulled boat powered by a one-thousand-horsepower, turbocharged engine. Hotsy Totsy had pulled ahead of Zippity Doo, which was in hot pursuit. To the growing astonishment of Zippity Doo's pilot and copilot, they found themselves losing ground.

"The river is beginning to narrow," Lacey yelled into Casey's ear. "A red buoy is coming up on your port side."

"I see it," Casey yelled back. "We're about to enter the Deep Water Ship Channel, which lets big ships sail up to Sacramento."

"Yes, I see on the map that it's a canal thirty feet deep, two hundred feet wide and forty-three miles long."

"The race goes up the ship channel to the state capital before we return to San Francisco Bay by racing down the river course."

"The channel is clear. They must have stopped all the river traffic."

"Good thing all the tugboats and barges were tied along the shore until the race is over," said Casey. "I'd hate to chase other boats around them."

"The best I can guess is that we're in twenty-first position."

The ship channel banks rose fifteen feet above the water, and the course marker buoys were spaced with barely enough room for three boats to pass through at the same time. The fact that they were being squeezed into a tight group was creating chaos. Boats were knocking against each other. But the worst was yet to come.

The channel closed and tightened to where the banks were only a hundred yards apart.

"What's happening?" said Casey, becoming alarmed. "The river has become no wider than a football field. There's hardly enough room for two boats to pass."

"We're through the entrance to the Sacramento River," explained Lacey, reading her navigation charts. "The race course runs north up the Deep Water Ship Channel, which circles through Sacramento City, and then we race down the actual river back into San Francisco Bay and the finish line."

Casey was frustrated. "Just when Hotsy Totsy was running like a winner, we get stuck in a narrow channel that's almost impossible to pass."

But pass Hotsy Totsy did. With Casey gaining confidence, she passed five more boats on the long straight up the Deep Water Ship Channel, cutting around hull to hull until Lacey was certain they had scraped the varnish off Hotsy Totsy's beautifully polished mahogany.

By the time they saw the Sacramento skyline and the gold dome above the state capitol, they had crossed the city limit line and Hotsy Totsy was in twelfth place.

An official yacht came into view with a large yellow flag on its masthead.

"What's the yellow flag for?" Casey wondered aloud.

"I think they want all the boats to slow down," said Lacey.

In another mile another official yacht was flying a red flag. Small boats were stationed along the course waving the race boats into a small channel where a series of gas trucks were waiting to refuel the race participants at a ship loading dock.

"It's a refueling stop," said Lacey.

"The race officials will catch us for sure now," Casey said grimly. "They won't let us back in the race once we tie up to the dock."

As they slowed down under the caution and red flags, Lacey pointed excitedly at the thousands of people crowding the banks of the river. The word about the children and the old powerboat had swept up and down the river like a tornado. The throng was shouting and cheering madly.

"Look, look!" she said in awe. "They're all cheering for us."

Along the banks of the river, a crowd of children were holding up signs that read:

WE LUV YOU, HOTSY TOTSY AND YOUR DOG TOO!

and another:

YOU CAN WIN, HOTSY TOTSY, YOU CAN WIN!

and another:

WE LUV YOU, HOTSY TOTSY AND YOUR DOG TOO!

but the one that almost made Casey and Lacey most happy read:

WE LUV YOU, HOTSY TOTSY AND YOUR DOG TOO!

The twins were stunned at the reception. They had no idea that they had become a national hero and heroine. Many people were even throwing flowers in the water in front of the boat. Television news cameras lined the shores, while helicopters flashed overhead shooting the scene as they trailed the leading boats to the refueling dock.

Downriver, the Boss and his henchmen watched the show, their phantom black boat hidden among a sea of reeds along the shoreline.

"I can't believe those foolish spectators are actually cheering those bratty little vermin. I can't believe they were allowed to race."

"They look like they're running a good race," said the Beard.

"Yeah," mumbled Wrinkle Face. "I bet they're sorry they can never win."

"Who asked you!" snapped the Boss. "C'mon, get ready. They'll be coming by soon, and then we'll show them what sorry is."

A helicopter settled down onto the end of the dock and the race officials from the marina stepped out. The fat men wearing the white, pink, black and green caps in their blue blazers and carrying clipboards didn't look happy. They huddled in what looked like a serious conversation while staring in the direction of Hotsy Totsy.

"We're in a dilemma," said White Cap, the jowls on his face twitching.

"No doubt about it," said Pink Cap, his droopy eves squinting. "Our backs are to the wall."

"We have to make a decision," said the kindly man under the green cap.

Black Cap took his cap off and wiped a handkerchief over his bald head. "Because of the vast publicity, we have to allow those crazy kids to continue in the race. They've become the darlings of the news media and the American public."

"He's right," said Pink Cap. "If we pulled their boat out of the contest, the crowds would go crazy and might get unruly."

"Then it's settled," said White Cap, who was the head official. "We have to let them continue in the race."

"With luck," said Green Cap, "their old boat will break down and they'll drop out."

"With luck," White Cap echoed. "But we had no idea they were as fast as they've shown they are and would pass so many of the fastest powerboats ever built."

"Luck," said Black Cap. "They've been lucky. Their luck can't last."

"I agree," said White Cap. "It's a miracle their boat has lasted this far."

"She'll never make it down the river to the bay," agreed Pink Cap. "Few boats will be able to race down a narrow river with sharp bends every mile."

Black Cap nodded. "Twenty failed to make it back to the finish line in last year's race."

"Then it's agreed," said White Cap. "We'll let the Hotsy Totsy run the rest of the race. But . . ." He held up his hand. "Since she and the children do not meet race regulations, she cannot be considered for any prize money."

"We all concur," White Cap said, nodding. "Hotsy Totsy is not a true participant but only an intruder who is allowed by our good grace."

All the officials muttered agreement.

A man in white coveralls holding the nozzle of a hose that ran to a fuel tank yelled down to the twins, still in the cockpit beside the dock. "You guys open your fuel cap and I'll fill her up."

Casey looked up. "No, thanks, we don't need any."

The fuel man looked like he hadn't heard right. "How can you not need fuel? You just raced a hundred miles from San Francisco. All the other boats' tanks are nearly empty."

"We're fine and dandy," said Lacey. "Thank you all the same."

"We have enough to get back to San Francisco," Casey assured him.

The fuel man walked over to the next boat, shaking his head.

Lacey whispered to Casey, "No one knows Hotsy Totsy is a magical boat and doesn't need fuel for her engine."

"I only hope we can all finish the race in one piece," Casey said quietly. "From what I see on your charts, the river that runs down to the bay is filled with sharp, narrow bends. Passing other boats will be tricky."

Casey and Lacey tensed as the white-capped official and his assistants approached Hotsy Totsy. He looked sternly at the twins. "You've run a good race and we've decided to let you continue."

"You mean we can compete and cross the finish line in San Francisco?" asked Lacey doubtfully.

White Cap nodded. "Yes, but since you are not an official entry, you cannot win any trophy or prize money should you finish in the top ten."

"That's fine," said Casey, vastly relieved. "Thank you."

"Just watch your driving, stay out of the way of the faster boats and don't cause any accidents," the official said severely. "Mind that you stay out of trouble."

"We'll do our best to run a safe race," Casey promised.

The friendly man under the green cap said, "I wish you the best of luck." He turned and gestured at the throng of Hotsy Totsy well-wishers crowding the city streets along the river and on the pleasure boats anchored along the race course. "You've certainly become winners in the public's eyes. You and your dog and your boat are featured on every channel on television."

The twins could see a horde of news media television cameras pointed in their direction.

They looked at each other with the same thought. What if their father and mother saw them? If so, they were in for a harsh scolding when they returned to the farm.

From the marina to the delta, the Sacramento River was very curvy and narrow. The race officials wouldn't allow the powerboats to race across the starting line all bunched up. So they started them off one at a time in single file.

Lacey glanced at a list and numbers of the boats in the race before studying her chart of the river. "You'll have to be careful," she said to Casey. "The river width is less than a football field. Until we reach the delta and head into the bay, the water is quite shallow, rarely deeper than nine feet, so you'll have to stay well away from the banks and steer down the middle."

"How far to San Francisco?" Casey asked.

"I'd guess about ninety miles."

Suddenly, Lacey pointed ahead. "We're next," she said, trembling with growing excitement. Because Casey and Lacey and Hotsy Totsy crossed the halfway mark in twelfth position, they had to wait behind the eleventh boat in line, a bright white boat with a blue stripe up the middle called Boom Voom. The Boom Voom's great rooster tail spray fanned the air and the roar from her engine exhaust crackled. She began tearing down the river chasing the ten boats in front of her.