Richard Johnson - Deadly Cargo - A Chilling Naval Terrorism Thriller

In the dark water, the rust red color of the container was an ugly, vague form that seemed to grow as an appendage from the white hull of the cruise ship. Josh swam to the corner that penetrated the hull, and saw that the connection was tenuous. We’re lucky it hung on this long . A quick examination of the wound showed that extricating the container would be fairly easy, with a tug line pulling from the cutter. But this cruise was over. The ship would have to return to Panama for professional repair, and all the passengers would get full reimbursement to cover the cost of their ruined vacations. An expensive bump in the night. Josh thought about the millions this little accident was going to cost the cruise line.

There was no serial number painted on the corner nearest the ship, so Josh caught Pfister’s attention and pointed at the far end of the container that angled down to a depth of forty feet. A quick knife action at the waist cocked his body and he kicked into the darkness below. Pfister followed, and in a few moments they hovered at the deep end of the container and stared at the painted serial number. Disappointment was in their eyes as they looked at each other and Josh shook his head then jerked his thumb upward. Pfister nodded, and they slowly began the ascent to the 15-foot level where they paused for a safety stop before hitting the surface.

Back in the equipment room, Josh stripped out of his wetsuit. “One down, eight to go.”

“Yeah,” Pfister agreed. “But you saw how low in the water this one was floating. Some of them might have gone to the bottom by now. We might never find all of them. In fact, I would bet against it.”

It was a grim reality – the ultimate quandary of the rock and the hard place. Josh knew they might never find the container with Husam al Din and his weapon inside. But he also knew that he could never breathe easy until they did.

140 miles south – Off San Luis Miguel Island

An hour before sunrise, Dan looked up from the book he was reading and stretched. Night watch in the cockpit was a lonely job, but he didn’t mind too much. The quiet emptiness of the open ocean brought peace to his soul. He had relieved Nicole at two o’clock and spent his time alternately reading and keeping an eye on the floating container, now two hundred yards off. He didn’t want to be too close, but didn’t want to lose sight of it either. That big metal cargo box might hold a treasure, or it might just be somebody’s household stuff being shipped across an ocean to a new residence. He didn’t know, but it really didn’t matter. It was the adventure of the whole escapade that counted.

From far away to the west, the deep, chugging sound of a diesel engine suddenly disturbed the early morning air. Well, it looks like the man gets up early. Dan picked up the binocular and stepped to the rail. It was still too early to see much through the dim morning light, but the throaty growl of the motor carried across the water with unmuffled clarity. The sound of that motor, Dan hoped, was coming from the barge of Senor Juan Baptista de la Vega, a salvor from the island of San Luis Miguel that he contacted by radio the evening before.

“Si, senor,” the man had assured Dan, speaking fair English with a heavy Spanish accent. “I can salvage the container for you. I have a barge with a crane, and can lift the container right out of the water. Please, senor, give me your coordinates, and I will come to you in the morning.”

The whole thing sounded almost too easy.

Nicole poked her head out through the cabin door, her eyes still sleepy. “How you doing? I thought I heard something.”

Dan pointed toward the island. “I think its de la Vega. Sounds like an old diesel that is badly in need of some attention. Out here in the middle of nowhere, that’s what I would expect.”

“I’ll get dressed. I think we can let the kids sleep.”

Twenty minutes passed, and the sound of the distant engine grew louder. Finally, through the binocular, Dan was able to see a dark spot on the horizon and a column of black smoke rising and then drifting apart in the morning breeze. Nicole stepped into the cockpit, her hair in a ponytail and wearing a flowered calf-length dress.

Dan whistled, ”Wow, don’t you look nice!”

“Well, it isn’t every day we get visitors on board. He sounded so nice over the radio, talking about his grandchildren. I thought it would be nice to clean up a bit to welcome him. Do you think I should prepare some breakfast for Mr de la Vega?”

“I don’t know about him, but I could use some.”

“I’ve been thinking,” – Nicole put an arm around Dan – “if that container is full of valuable things, maybe we should try to notify the rightful owners, so they can come and get it.”

A frown built on Dan’s face. “If it’s anything valuable, the insurance will pay off the owners.”

“Then we should notify the insurance company,” Nicole said.

“What about finders keepers?”

She shrugged. “I’m just trying to do the right thing.”

“Well, I think the right thing is for us to claim salvage rights. It’s the law of the sea. Senor de la Vega is charging us a thousand bucks just to haul that thing to the island so we can open it up. The least we can do is consider it an investment and feel good about keeping whatever we find inside.”

Nicole frowned. “It’s nothing but a gamble. How can you call it an investment?”

“Look, anybody who knows anything about Wall Street will tell you that all investing is the same as gambling. You put your money into something that you hope will pan out. Maybe it does, and maybe it doesn’t. It’s all a gamble. We’re just buying this big box and hoping that when we open it we’ll find something good. Same as investing.”

“So you feel good about it?”

He looked stunned. “Of course I feel good about it. Are you kidding? There might be a sports car in there, or a load of jewels that somebody’s shipping halfway around the world.”

“And if that were the case, what would you do with it?”

He was almost speechless, but finally stammered a response. “Why, why, I’d… I guess I’d… well, actually I’m not sure. I don’t need anything else.” Then his eyes brightened, “But wouldn’t it be great to have all that kind of stuff?”

Nicole patted him on the arm. “Dan. Get a grip. Listen to yourself.”

“Why, what do I sound like?”

“Greed. Lust, envy, covetousness, pride,” – she wrinkled her forehead – “but mostly lustful greed.”

“I don’t think so,” he protested. “It’s for the kids.”

“They don’t need anything else, either.”

Dan stood silent for a moment, thinking about Nicole’s words. The smoke and noise from de la Vega’s boat were closer now. “Are you saying that you don’t want the container?”

Her eyes danced as she broke into a grin. “Are you kidding? I was just giving you a hard time. Of course I want it. There might be a whole load of mink coats in there, or pearls, or oriental dolls. Wouldn’t those look nice in our living room? Maybe there will be some expensive paintings.”

Dan turned toward his wife so he could look her in the eyes. “Nicole Plover, are you playing with my psyche?”

She giggled. “I was just trying to send you off on a guilt trip. Don’t worry. What woman wouldn’t want to open a 40-foot gift package that dropped right out of the blue? My gosh, my gosh! I can hardly wait.”

A sigh escaped Dan’s lungs. “After all these years of marriage, I still don’t know how to read you, sometimes.”

She pinched his cheek and winked. “If I weren’t a mystery, life would be too easy.”

He tweaked her nose. “Well, I do love a challenge.”