Morgan Stone: The Russian Factor

“Well, I didn’t have to do this! I could have left you in Kiev, in jail! Your dear Mama and Uncle Vlad would be happy. How about you? Would you have been happy?”

The yacht’s lurching and twisting was becoming increasingly violent.

“You could have not started writing to me on the Internet!”

“Actually, that was Sandy.” I sneered.

“You knew what was at stake. You didn’t have to invite me to Kiev. None of this would be happening now!”

“Sure, you could be a gangster’s trophy wife in Dubai.”

“My life would be safe then! I wouldn’t be facing death in the sea! I trusted you. I followed you because you never fell apart. Never! Nothing could stop you. Now look at where we are, the North Pacific Ocean… in winter. If this can stop you, it can… it will… oh god, it really will kill us! I can not see you losing it!”

Anna was right. What I thought didn’t matter — how I acted did.

Another wave exploded against the side of the yacht and canted our world forty-five degrees. Above deck, the wind vane wasn’t doing well on its own and Shadow was turning away from the wind. Taut sails broadsided by a strengthening gale made the tilt worse. Anna and I avalanched to the lower wall along with books, dishes, bilge water and garbage.

“Well shit! Someone’s gotta steer this thing.”

The conditions were beyond the wind vane now. Scrambling back to the cockpit, I disengaged it and hand steered back into a close haul. Anna followed me topside. I was convinced her attack on my lack of character wasn’t over and I cut her off as she inhaled for another tirade. “And, may I remind you that it was YOU who betrayed us to the syndicate. You knew what was at stake but, oh no, you had to do it your way! Your Mama, your way! You wiped out an important operation, got me fired and caused me nearly limitless expense. You are the reason we’re stuck in this shit-shitty mess!”

“You…” Anna started, raising her hand, like a karate chop, a perfect Young Pioneer with a point to make.

“Nyet, nada, nichts, rien du tout… NOT another word!” I bellowed. “It’s your watch. Take the wheel. I’m going below.

“Jess, stop!” Anna slammed a rubber boot into the floor. It squelched.

“What!”

“Stop!”

I turned, grabbing for something to keep from being flipped overboard. I glared at Anna, astonished at my anger.

“We need to stop this now or we are going down.”

I said nothing.

“The only thing between us and the ocean is this boat and the only thing keeping it afloat is you and me.”

I was freezing. I turned to go below.

“Jess, tell me you won’t leave me.”

“I need to rest, to warm up. I won’t make it any other way.”

“Don’t leave me, Jess. I need you strong. I can’t do this without you. I can’t do this without the Jess I met in Kiev. I believe it when you say we can do something. I believe it because I have seen it until now and when I see you falling apart, I am terrified.”

I looked at Anna. She was clutching the wheel without mitts, a harness, or even her offshore gear. She hadn’t following me out to berate me. She’d been ready to take control if I hadn’t.

I approached the helm, took the wheel and tried to put my arm around her.

Anna pulled away. She wouldn’t look at me.

“Go get dressed. You need to take watch.” I said.

“What’s the point?”

“Because you’ll freeze.”

She didn’t move.

“Because… I made a promise just out of Marmaris and I meant it. But I need you now . I need you as much as you need me.”

Anna took a freezing wet hand off whatever she was hanging onto and placed it over one of my mitts. “Okay, I’ll be back in a couple of minutes. Then it’s my turn on watch.”

Finally, wedged into my cabin, I shoved in earplugs for some respite from the constant slamming, crashing, banging, moaning, wailing, grinding reality… that’s sailing.

I came crashing out of deep sleep sometime after midnight. I couldn’t move. My arms and legs were entangled in a jumble of books, clothes and bedding. Freeing one hand, I felt out my surroundings and came to the jarring conclusion I was lying on the cabin wall. Hearing my own weirdly muffled yell reminded me I had earplugs in. Yanking them out, I heard Anna screaming somewhere outside.

My cabin was pitch dark, roaring, crashing and violently shifting. I probed for my flashlight and thrashed my way through a world on its side. The companionway, now a horizontal staircase cantilevered out above me, saved my life when the floor tilted past vertical and came crashing down. A cascade of floor panels, dishes, food, and cookware rained down from the galley above me. Okay, I thought to myself, the boat is on its side and it might be rolling over, where in hell is Anna? A cupboard door swung open above my head and melamine unbreakable dishes rained down. I could still hear Anna screaming, good she’s still with the yacht. A fire extinguisher whistled by, centimeters past my left ear to make a watery impact at my feet.

I clawed my way into the cockpit opening as the yacht tried to right itself. My flashlight, swinging crazily from my wrist, revealed a chaotic scene of swirling water, tangled ropes and debris. Anna clung to the wheel with outstretched arms. Her feet, somehow free, kicked in the torrent foaming beneath her. Half in, half out of the companionway, I was sure that the boat was going completely upside down with the next wave. Instead, the sails rose from the sea in a maelstrom of spray and noise. We were being pushed backwards, driving the swim platform underwater, scooping a wall of water into the cockpit. Suddenly, the bow swung through the wind, the sails blew inside out, and Shadow went over on the other side.

“We’re turning turtle! Rolling over if the next wave catches the keel!” I screamed, lunging for the helm and its handholds. It felt like a zero gravity drop into the preceding trough. “Deep breath and hang on!” The wave hit. The sails slapped the surface, and the mast sliced into the foaming water. “We’re going over!” I screamed. Anna hung paralyzed from the wheel, which must have hit its stops — jammed. Her mouth was open in a frozen scream and her look was pure terror. If the boat came down on her, she was dead.

The roll stopped just short of vertical and Shadow tried to lift the sails from the sea but couldn’t. “Straighten the rudder. Let go of the wheel. Get ready to swim if this thing goes over!” I yelled into deaf ears. She stayed frozen and unmoving. “Suka, shit, piss, blyad, fuck!” I screamed. “Wanna die?”

She looked right through me. I watched water flowing down the companionway, into the interior. We really were sinking now. The keel was underwater and the waves couldn’t flip us, but if the sails didn’t come out of the sea immediately, we were going to lose Shadow.

“Get off the fucking wheel!” I screamed loud enough to reach her.

A fist came at my face and missed. “I hate you! Hate you…”

“Fine! Hate me, but you can’t do it dead.” I reached for the manual trip on her life jacket and it inflated with a demonic roar. At least she noticed it. “Piano keys! Go! Release every line.” I yanked a line out of a big winch above my head. Anna, finally moved to action, saw what I did and sprang for the front of the cockpit, frantically releasing cleats. I spun the wheel to what I thought was dead center, and the yacht lolled upright but still broadside to the waves and wind. The loose sails cracked like giant whips. The rigging shuddered and crashed trying to tear itself loose.

We were nearly awash, still going down. “Get to the life raft!” I shouted, switching on the cockpit floodlights. I saw the wind speed hovering around fifty five knots. The boat was dead in the water. Waves washing over the deck poured down the companionway, each cascade another wave closer to sinking. I saw Anna trying to lift the life raft over the side as I jumped below. I waded through thigh-deep water looking for the abandon-ship bag. Impossible! and I was going to end up trapped. “Screw it!” Instead, I grabbed the companionway covers in a last ditch attempt to stop the water pouring though from the deck.