‘Where’s the Cap?’ Gerber yelled.
Only then did Jude realise the full implications of the hijacking. With the bridge fallen to enemy hands, it meant there was nobody left up there to issue a distress signal. It meant the remaining crew were completely helpless and alone in the middle of the ocean, with virtually nothing to fight back against their attackers with except their wits.
Jude was so horrified by the realisation that he couldn’t speak. At that instant, a movement caught his eye and he looked up to see something flying up over the side of the ship.
‘Oh, shit,’ Condor said, turning even whiter.
Twenty yards forward of where they were all huddled, the grappling hook dropped and hit the deck with a clang. Its steel claws raked backwards as the rope went taut, and then fastened themselves around the railing. It was quickly followed by another. The pirates only had to shinny up the sides. Within seconds they would be clambering aboard.
‘No way,’ Mitch yelled. ‘Not this ship, you motherfuckers!’ Before Jude could stop him, he was jumping to his feet and running like a crazy man towards the edge of the deck. Jude sprang up and chased after him, yelling at him to get back. Screaming in fury at the pirates, Mitch pointed the flare pistol down over the side and fired. Its boom was like a shotgun blast. The dazzling magnesium flare went off like a rocket and sailed downwards towards the boats, trailing green smoke. But Mitch’s aim was wild and the missile hit the water, fizzling out instantly. Still roaring at the pirates he dug in his pocket for another cartridge to load.
The pirates had seen him and were training their fire on him. Mitch seemed oblivious of the bullets flying past and splatting off the container stack behind him. Jude grabbed his arm, trying to haul him back to safety, but Mitch jerked free and managed to load a second flare into his pistol.
‘Mitch!’ Jude shouted. ‘Get b—’
Jude never finished. Mitch suddenly staggered and fell back towards him, nearly knocking Jude over. Jude felt something wet and warm slap across his face, and he tasted saltiness. He looked down and saw the blood spattered on his shirt, and for an instant he thought it was his own.
Mitch made a sound like ‘Urgghhh’, and collapsed at Jude’s feet. Jude could hear someone screaming Mitch’s name. He realised it was him. Mitch’s body gave a jerk and rolled over. The side of his head was blown away.
For what seemed like minutes on end, as if in a dream, Jude stared numbly down at his friend’s body and the horrific red mess that had been his head. The gunfire rattling up the side of the ship; Condor’s frantic yells of ‘get down, get down!’ coming from behind; the third and fourth grappling hooks shooting up over the side and getting a purchase on the rail: everything faded into the background. He was only dimly aware of Gerber running up next to him, axe in hand, swinging furious blows that struck sparks from the deck and severed one of the lines the pirates were using to shinny up the side of the ship. The rope parted and two boarders fell back and splashed into the foaming sea between their boats.
Only then did Jude come to his senses, and along with them came a flood of rage. He bent down and snatched up the fallen flare pistol. It was sticky with Mitch’s blood. He didn’t know how it worked, but he’d seen Mitch load it and he guessed you only had to pull the trigger. Teeth gritted, he leaned right out over the rail, pointed the gun vertically down at the nearer of the two boats, and fired.
The flare whooshed down the side and burst against the back of the boat in a flash of white flame that ignited the jerrycans of spare fuel lashed to the stern next to the outboard motor. The boat exploded in a blast that lifted it out of the water and sent a fireball and a wave of searing heat rippling up the Andromeda’s hull. Jude and Gerber both ducked back from the edge. A pall of black smoke enveloped everything. Jude could hear the screams and splashes as pirates hurled themselves into the sea to escape the flames.
For a few moments, it seemed as if they’d succeeded in beating them off. But it was a short-lived victory. The second boat had managed to power away from the explosion. With unbelievable speed, and before Jude even realised what was happening, the pirates were swarming up the ropes and leaping nimbly over the smoke-blackened rail to pounce on deck with their weapons ready and firing.
Jude wanted to shoot back at them, but then felt a powerful hand grip his arm and drag him back towards the cover of the container stacks. Gerber was in full-on soldier mode now and shouting ‘Fall back, fall back!’ as if commanding his troops to retreat in the face of an enemy charge.
There was no choice. Jude glanced back one last time at Mitch’s body before he followed Gerber and the others at a run, down a narrow alley between container stacks and across a stretch of open deck towards the relative safety of the house. ‘This way, this way!’ Gerber was shouting over the crackle of gunfire, pointing towards the main hatchway leading inside.
One by one, they ducked through the entrance. Condor slammed the hatch shut behind them and spun the locking wheel. It was the same kind of heavy riveted iron door, streaked with rust, that were all over the ship. They were designed to seal tightly enough to keep out Force Ten storms. They could keep the pirates at bay – for now, at any rate.
From the other side of the thick metal they could hear running footsteps on the deck, clattering up the ladders, along the walkways. More gunshots, sporadic bursts of automatic fire coming from different points as the pirates rapidly spread all over. Jude edged closer to the door, pressed his ear to it and heard the raised voices and barked commands from the other side. He didn’t think they were speaking in Arabic. It was an African language he’d never heard before. Somali?
The voices were drowned out as a rifle shot cracked out just the other side of the door, mingled with the very loud percussive impact of a bullet hitting the metal. Jude flinched back and saw the dent, like a raised bump, right next to where his ear had been. Two more shots hammered the door before the pirates gave up and moved on.
‘They’re gonna be all over us in no time,’ Gerber muttered disgustedly. ‘Those stupid cages ain’t gonna hold ’em back more’n one minute.’
‘What the crap are we gonna do?’ said Trent.
Ignoring him, Gerber turned urgently to Jude. ‘You were up on the bridge. Did you see the captain? Did they radio for help?’
Jude’s mind was spinning so badly he thought he was going to throw up. He was the only one who knew just how bad their situation was. He had to break the news to the others.
‘The captain’s dead,’ he blurted out. ‘They shot him. And all three of the mates. They’re all dead.’
‘Steady on, son,’ Gerber said. ‘Slow down. Who shot them?’
‘The passengers.’
‘What?’ Condor exploded.
‘They’re hijackers,’ Jude said. ‘Their leader is called Carter. He killed the other two.’
‘Wait. You mean to say this guy Carter killed Cappy O’Keefe and our guys, then killed his own guys?’ Gerber said in disbelief.
‘He’s one of the pirates,’ Jude said, struggling to talk coherently. They could hear activity and voices everywhere as the pirates took over the whole ship above them. ‘It’s all been planned in advance.’ More questions were clotting his mind, one piling on top of another. What kind of deal did the captain do with the hijackers? Had O’Keefe deliberately failed to radio for help? What was in the case that Carter had cuffed to his wrist?
‘Oh, shit, oh shit oh shit,’ Condor kept repeating over and over. Gerber snapped at him to shut up.
‘What the crap are we gonna do?’ Trent said again, breathing hard.
‘Get the hell