SILENT GUNS (49 page)

“
Shall we let them in on our
secret?” Ambrose banked Fox 3 over until he was directly above
Rabbit. “I’m going to get me some tail,” he laughed. “Hang on,
guys, here we go,” Ambrose yelled as he increased speed, dropped in
altitude, and pulled up abreast Rabbits cockpit. He held that
position until he was certain Rabbit had seen them, and then Fox 3
fell astern and held station one-quarter mile behind. Fox 3 settled
in a groove, with speeds matched, the engines at a constant pitched
drone.

“
That didn’t shake them up one
damn bit,” An older co-pilot named Sam MacAfee said. “They know we
ain’t going to shoot them down.”

“
The pilot in that bucket is a
good buddy of mine. Hang tight. They’re changing course. Heading
295 degrees,” Warnes shouted over the inter-phone. “I don’t get it.
That puts Rabbit on a course splitting the headings of
Hestia
and
Bandera
. What do you make of
it?”

“
Could be Trent hasn’t made up his
mind which ship to head for,” Warnes said. “With these headwinds,
he’d better make up his mind soon.
Bandera
is already
marginal. Rabbit took off on the late side; fortunately for him,
Hestia
is dragging. Not a good situation developing. That
old rust bucket is slower than molasses. If the make for her,
Yacona has a good chance at interception. Maybe he’ll call it
quits, break off and make for land. They say this Trent guy has
tricks up his sleeve.”

As the sky blackened, Ambrose strained to follow
Rabbit in the fading light.

“
We’d better check with Den
Mother.”

Warnes said, “Rabbit will hear too, you know.”

“
Two of our guys are in there with
Trent.”

“
Den Mother. This is Fox
3.”

“
Go ahead Fox 3.”

“
Rabbit’s in sight. Heading 295
degrees. Ground speed is 80 knots, headwinds 40 knots. Need
guidance. What’s this guy up to?”

“
Fox 3.
Bandera
is 160
miles out off coast on course 315.
Hestia
is 35 miles out on
course 258. Either ship could be final destination. Navy 1 and Navy
2 and Fox 1 are positioned to intercept if Rabbit makes for a
landfall. Good luck.”

“
O.K. Ambrose, what do we do
now?”

“
Stay with Rabbit until he makes a
mistake. Did you notice, Den Mother didn’t mention Fox
2?”

“
Yeah! I noticed.” Ambrose shook
his head. In the dark cockpit, Ambrose could be seen leaning
forward, his teeth flashed in the darkness. His life jacket hung
loose, his helmet had pinched his black hair tight to his
scalp.

“
There it is. I got it,” MacAfee
exclaimed. “A homing signal. Heading 312. It’s
Bandera
.”

“
Rabbit must have it too, but he
didn’t turn,” Warnes shouted over the inter-phone. “Shit! Where the
hell did he go?” Ambrose hollered. “Rabbit broke away.” Warnes
replied, “He’s off my screen. He could be anywhere, even behind
us.”

“
Fox 3. This is Den Mother. Rabbit
is off to your left. He is moving up on you.”

“
I don’t see…” A spray of flame
erupted from out of the black as bullets cut into Fox 3’s side.
Madden peered through Rabbit’s open cargo door, his waist belt held
him tight. “…Jesus! Get us outta here,” Warnes screamed. Ambrose
gritted his teeth, kicked the pedals and pulled maximum power. Fox
3 swung hard left as the Pelican vibrated her tortured frame.
Rabbit countered with a hard right, looped around and zoomed down,
to gather speed. “Damn it. He’s bugging out,” Warnes shouted over
the howling engine. Rabbit was a dark shape racing away, fading to
nothingness in the distance. “Bring us back around.”

Fox 3 came up and did a full circle.

“
I got him,” Warnes snapped into
the inter-phone. “He’s hauling ass, fast. He’s heading for
Bandera
. Get after him.” The helicopter banked and picked up
speed. “What the hell did he do that for?” MacAfee spoke, “We were
hanging in too close. He wants to shake us loose.” The sweat was
pouring from his forehead. “The bastard did a pick on
us.”

“
He turned off his
lights.”

“
What’s his heading?”

“
Heading 320.”

“
I lost visual,” Ambrose was
sucking in deep breaths.

“
I’m still locked on,” Warnes
said. “He’s five miles out. Stay with him. He’s
accelerating.”

“
On that heading, it’s
Bandera
,” MacAfee blurted out.

“
Rabbit. This is Den
Mother.”

“
Den Mother. This is Rabbit. Tell
Fox 3 if he insists on snapping at my tail, he’s going to get
bit.”

“
Rabbit.
Bandera
is
marginal. You are on course into 70 knot headwinds.
Bandera
is 170 miles off coast.”

“
Trent. Simons, here.”

“
What can I do for you,
Chief?”

“
Burns is under arrest. We have
his confession. Seems you turned him into a basket case. He will be
court-martialed.”

“
It’s a little late for amends,
isn’t it?”

“
At least, it might salve your
conscience.”

“
Thanks.”

“
Does that change your plans
any?”

“
You are too late. We have the
thirty million.
Bandera
is within reach.”

Simons offered, “The Coast Guard has ordered both
ships to come about and remain in U.S. waters. Both captains have
agreed.” Trent retorted, “Not that it makes any difference but we
are armed and we will land. Tell Fox 3 not to interfere.”

“
A night landing is tricky,”
Simons interjected. “You’ll have rough seas to contend
with.”

“
Rabbit, over and out.” Trent
clicked off.

“
Track and monitor. Nuts!” Warnes
grumbled.

“
Those are our orders, Cleo,”
Ambrose winced. “Harass Rabbit, just short of endangering lives. We
can’t go up against them without weapons; anyway, let VTS vector in
the cutters. Yacona mounts a.50cal. machine gun. Maybe, those guys
can do better.”

Warnes came on the inter-phone. “Lieutenant, if you
get any closer, you’ll nip off Rabbit’s tail. Back off! Shit! Too
late, they fell off. I’ve lost them. The smart-asses. They cut
power, dropped and let us overrun.”

“
Damn. Damn. Damn.”

“
Where are they now?”

“
I haven’t the foggiest.” Warnes
looked at his monitor and stabbed at buttons. For the moment, they
fell silent. The rushing wind and clattering roar of the Pelican
overcame the muffing effect of their headsets. “The scope is blank
ahead. Give me a fuel reading.”

MacAfee exclaimed, “Bad news. We are burning gas
like it’s coming out a water tap. Neither of us has exactly been in
long-range cruise. If Trent makes for
Bandera
,” MacAfee
droned on. “He’ll be flying on fumes. I’d bet the winds scare him
off.”

“
What are Rabbit’s other options?”
Ambrose asked.

“
Hold your shirt, I’m figuring,”
Warnes shouted back. “Damn. It can’t be. Get this: Rabbit is 80
miles out of Tofino on Vancouver Island, 80 miles from the
Bandera
and 80 miles from the
Hestia
. Damn. That
bastard had a no-go point.” He carried on, “Tatoosh is the closest
on the American side. That’s back 120 miles. If he went north to
Tofino, he’s on an easy heading. He could make that easy. Then,
there’s the
Hestia
. She lies southeast on heading 135.
Rabbit would have a tail wind. He might even over fly and hit the
coast.”

“
Smart cookie. Then, which way did
he go?” Ambrose screamed. “And, don’t give me a lesson in
geography.” He continued, “This could be that miracle Den Mother
said we should pray for - turn Rabbit back.” Ambrose said. “Raise
Den Mother.”

“
Den Mother, here. Fox 3. Rabbit
is 82 miles due north of
Hestia
on heading 133. Seas are too
rough, impossible to set down on deck. Track Rabbit to
Hestia
, then abandon chase and head for home. Job well done.
Do not intercept. I repeat. Take no overt action.”

“
Fox 3. We copy.
Roger.”

Fox 3 turned to its new heading.

“
Hang on, you guys. We got some
catching up to do,” Ambrose said. He tightened his grip on the
collective and cyclic and bent his neck into the seat back. He
pulled collective and braced himself as Fox 3 shot off in hot
pursuit. The Fox set off to chase the Rabbit.

* * *

The chopper trembled like a fleeing animal beneath
his feet. Trent felt the wind-blast through the open door as he
looked down on a boiling ocean of whitecaps below. Relieved, with
troubles behind, life felt almost normal again. Then, suddenly he
felt sick: terribly sick and tired of it all. His anger dissipated;
his lust for revenge gone, leaving him weak with tiredness. It had
been just days ago and now, it was almost over. He was reeling from
a high and now he was falling. He tugged fretfully at his life
jacket. Over the thrum of the ‘copter, there was no chatter. How
did the men feel, had the caper changed them? Oddly, he didn’t know
how to ask. No one moved, and no one spoke. They rode on silently
as Madden tended Graves’ wound.

Trent was first to sight the outbound ship.
Although, her upper works were well lighted, the
Hestia
was
a barely visible moving shape, smaller than he remembered her. She
wallowed, laboring heavily as she passed in and out of patches of
heavy spray. Her single stack belched heavy, black smoke as she
plowed bow down into great, green wall. Water leaped over the bows
and roared aft with the force of an express train. She was standing
away, she had not yet reversed course as ordered. There wasn’t a
soul to be seen on their bridge wing. Trent guessed that the
Hestia
’s Captain and his Chinese crew, brooked no interest
in a curious, unexplained request by the U.S. Coast Guard as he
held his course. Rabbit approached, circled and hovered over the
freighter, her powerful; probing searchlight splashed the
freighter’s deck from stem to stern. Crewmen were dashing about
tying down loose lines. The
Hestia
was swinging away fast
and Trent bit his lip as the sea room opened rapidly. It was still
a good distance, less than a quarter mile, but on an approach
course. A collision at sea is a nightmare all sailors had to live
with, but one just tried not to think about it. Like airplane
crashes or an auto accident, it wasn’t going to happen until it
did.

“
Nice and flat,” Madden said.
“Nothing but stacked containers. Just like an airport
runway.”

The pilot said, “You better look close; look at
those wires. And, the cargo booms, they are swinging freely all
over the place. And, the waves are crashing over starboard side
clear to port. And, to boot, she’s top-heavy and overloaded. She’s
riding up and down like a baby-buggy, dropping off into holes.” The
Hestia
had a decided list and was rolling badly. “Her
position makes face-the-wind hover impossible. We have crosswinds
gusting to 30 knots.”

Rabbit circled, and circled again the plodding
ship.

Madden said, “She’s damaged. The hull plating looks
smashed in, I’d swear she appears to be foundering.” Waves washed
over her in monotonous regularity.

The pilot shouted, “I can’t land. This is tougher
than making a carrier landing in rough seas. No room for error. I
gotta come in steady all the way without flinching. If I miss,
we’re in for a swim, if the miss doesn’t kill us. That tub is
bouncing up and down like a cork. And, if I do get her down, I’ll
need a trap to hold her from slipping over the side,” The pilot
screamed over the din. “This is crazy. It’s suicide.”

“
Make another pass,” Trent
ordered.

The ‘copter swung over, the bright beam of the
searchlight poked into the wheelhouse. Trent clearly saw panic on
the illuminated faces of the men inside. The ‘copter moved aft in
synch with the ship. The men on deck held curious looks on their
faces. As the ‘copter moved closer, the crew waved, then pleaded,
and gestured to be lifted off. He then realized, the Coast Guard
helicopter held a different meaning to the men below.

Crewmen dashed for the main boom beneath which a
lifeboat was already being stripped of its canvas.

“
Good God,” Madden said. “They are
foundering.”

“
We can’t go down there,” The
pilot said.

“
We must,” Trent
replied.

“
It’s insane.”

“
The
Hestia
is our only
chance,” Trent droned, “We have no other choice.”

“
Tony. Graves is dying, he has
lost conscious.”

Trent placed a muzzle to the back of the pilot’s
head. “Take her down,” he ordered.

The hugeness of Rabbit settled warily toward the
flat surface of the sea-going containers lined up side-by-side. The
pilot, sweating profusely, hovered, gingerly gauging the motion of
the violently, tossing ship. He hesitated, avoiding wires and
timing himself to catch and hang on to the end of a moving
metronome. Then, he lowered Rabbit the last few feet and met the
deck coming up. It touched, bounced and was down, then was thrown
off and fell precipitously into the sea. The situation had gone to
hell in five short seconds.