Jack Du Brul - Pandora's curse

“His boat is with the larger launches next to the marina I think you were hiding in,” Klaus Raeder offered.

“And Greta said Rath’s on the bridge,” Anika added.

Mercer had gone quiet, his eyes out of focus. Suddenly his features sharpened and he grinned wickedly. “I can think of only one way to get Rath to leave the ship without him feeling directly threatened. Actually, I can think of another way, but I doubt the seven of us could get the ship to start sinking.”

Anika and Ira exchanged startled looks and regarded Mercer as if he’d lost his mind. “Thank God you’re not thinking that,” she said. “So what is your idea?”

“Simple. We hijack the Sea Empress ourselves.”

Before Mercer launched into his explanation, Ira suggested that Anatoly Vatutin’s cabin would be a better place to talk. Mercer gave him the MP-5 to tuck under his robes. He took point when they exited the machinery room, the pistol held behind his back with a round in the chamber. They left the guard Vatutin had dispatched behind a large hydro pump. Ira walked the drag slot, moving backward so they couldn’t get jumped. Because it was so late at night, the Sea Empress was running with just a skeleton crew on the bridge and fortunately no one in the engineering spaces. Mercer found an elevator after a few minutes, and they ascended to Vatutin’s deck. Moments later, they piled into the priest’s room.

“So far so good.” Anika smiled with relief.

“Hear out my plan before you have me committed,” Mercer said when they were settled. He ticked his fingers as he counted their options. “We can’t stay here until the ship docks because Rath will organize a room-to-room search once he realizes we’ve escaped. Even with Raeder’s help, we can’t approach the captain because Rath’s people are likely watching him. The Swiss Guards are out because they’ll probably turn us over to ship’s security, i.e., Rath. We could try to find a satellite phone belonging to one of the reporters covering the Convocation, but there are two thousand cabins to check and we’d be stopped long before we found one. And finally we can’t risk a direct confrontation with Rath in case he opens the box.

“Does everyone agree so far?” Mute nods. “Okay, to get Rath off the ship we have to make him think escaping is a better option than remaining on board. To do that we either sink the Sea Empress or create a situation where he feels just threatened enough to want to leave. That’s where we come in.”

“By pretending to be hijackers?”

“It’s going to put the Swiss Guards on full alert and distract some of Rath’s people. Rath will figure out what’s going on but he can’t say anything without compromising himself. It would be easier for him to cut his losses rather than fight us. He’ll let the Swiss Guards and the ship’s regular security detail handle that.”

“Why wouldn’t he just hang around until his goons kill us all?” Marty asked.

“Rath can pretend the solar max has shut down the ship’s communications but when we fire the first shot every reporter with an independent satellite uplink will be calling in the scoop. In hours, the Empress will be swarming with choppers and motor launches from Iceland. Rath would be trapped.”

“Once he’s gone,” Anika interrupted, “we give ourselves up, bring Raeder to the captain, and alert the authorities about Rath’s escaping with the Pandora box.”

“You got it.”

“Once he’s flushed out, why don’t we ambush him when he’s trying to launch his boat?” Erwin’s suggestion had merit, and a fatal flaw.

“He may have fifteen or twenty men with him. If we can’t guarantee a clean kill, he could open the box.” Mercer saw Ira’s skeptical look, and added, “All we need to do is fire off a few rounds, terrorize some passengers, and let panic do the rest. As long as we don’t get caught before Rath leaves, we’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Except Swiss Guards are not wearing blue-and-gold uniforms and carrying medieval weapons,” Anatoly Vatutin said. “They have combat armor and machine pistols, and they will shoot to kill.”

“This isn’t without risks,” Mercer answered solemnly, looking each person in the eye.

Ira Lasko didn’t hesitate. “Tell me how you want to do this.”

Mercer spent ten minutes outlining his plan and refining it with suggestions from the others. The key was to protect Klaus Raeder until after Rath left the vessel. Mercer estimated that would be about twenty minutes after the first firefight.

Because of his injuries, Erwin would wait with the industrialist in Vatutin’s cabin. Mercer wanted the others to stay with them. Martin Bishop agreed. However, Vatutin categorically refused. He reminded Mercer that he’d been fighting for this for his entire life and wouldn’t back out at the end. And once Anika translated their plan to Hilda, the chef too wanted to help. She had military training, she stated, and could handle a gun. Mercer’s eyes asked Anika her intentions.

She looked at Erwin.

“I can hold out for a while longer,” Puhl said as if reading her mind. “The pain’s worse and my arm’s numb to my fingers, but once Raeder talks to the captain, I’m going to the ship’s doctor.”

Without a professional excuse to remain behind, Anika Klein tried to find a personal one. And couldn’t. The others were risking their lives for something much bigger than they were and she couldn’t let them go alone. “I’m in.”

Moments later, the ersatz terrorists left the cabin.

Finding additional weapons for the teams was easier than they thought. In the elevator headed up to the main deck, the car stopped a few floors short of their destination and two Swiss Guards stepped in, barely giving Mercer and his band a passing inspection. Both uniformed men carried Beretta Model 12 submachine guns on slings. As soon as the doors swept closed, Mercer clubbed one with the butt of the H amp;K at the same time Ira laid open the other’s scalp with his machine pistol. A minute later, the Swiss were bound and gagged, and their weapons, including concealed pistols, were distributed.

“You promise we’re not going to kill anyone?” Anika asked when Mercer handed her his H amp;K in favor for the Model 12. He’d unscrewed the German pistol’s silencer.

“We’ll be shooting for effect,” Mercer reassured. “If it comes to a real firefight, aim for people’s legs.”

“That still goes against the Hippocratic oath.” Despite her protest, Anika tightened her grip on the big handgun. She’d do what was necessary.

“This is where we split into two teams.” Mercer’s voice was harder than he’d intended. “Ira, take Hilda and Father Vatutin and find the biggest group of people you can, maybe in the theater. I saw a bulletin for a midnight showing of The Agony and the Ecstasy. Take them hostage, scare the hell out of them, and get out again. Stay loose and mobile. Don’t remain in one location for any length of time, and make sure when you escape no one follows. We meet back at Father Vatutin’s cabin in thirty minutes to wait for Erwin’s all-clear from the bridge.”

The doors opened before anyone could acknowledge his final instructions, and they scattered without a word. Because the majority of the passengers were men, Mercer and Anika used a ladies’ rest room to give the others time to get into position. They both even managed a nervous pee.

They reemerged from the tiled bathroom after five minutes. Casually Mercer walked across the corridor near the main atrium and yanked the handle for the fire alarm. Nothing happened for a second, and he feared the system remained silent until an actual fire was confirmed. Then the electronic horns began to cry, wailing like a colicky infant drawing breath. They kept their weapons out of view as a few late-night strollers looked around anxiously.