Читать книгу Enemy Arsenal - Don Pendleton - Страница 12

CHAPTER FOUR

Xiang Po bolted upright in the bed, the soft cotton sheets puddling around his body as he choked off his shout of fear. Heart hammering in his chest, he looked in every corner of the small stateroom, searching for the furious, black-haired ghost that had been crawling after him, its bloody hands reaching for him from beyond the grave....

A dream—it was only a dream, he thought. He cocked an ear, listening for any sign that his outburst might have been heard by the other pirates. When no fist hammered on the door, he leaned back against the plush headboard and sighed in relief. He stared at the opulent room he’d been given as a reward for his part in taking over the yacht, taking in the soft carpet, the real wooden furniture, the faint smell of some kind of floral fragrance that had filled the room when he had first entered. All of this, as well as a wonder he had scarcely believed when he had first set eyes on it.

Just thinking about it made him shiver in anticipation. Xiang slipped out of bed, carefully drawing up the covers again—it would be a crime to leave such a luxurious abode unkempt. He grinned as he thought about the first night they had stayed aboard, when he had tossed and turned on the soft mattress, unused to such comfort, until he had wrapped himself in the topsheet and slept on the floor, which had still been more comfortable than any other bed he’d ever been in. Over the next few days, he had moved to the bed, and his rest had never been so peaceful—except for the damn dreams.

He crossed to the private bathroom, marveling again at how his bare, callused feet sank into the soft, ivory-colored carpet. Sliding open the narrow door, he gazed at the object of his desire—the small, tiled shower stall. When Xiang had first found it, he had stayed under the fresh, clean spray for fifteen minutes, using up almost all of the water on the boat. The other pirates had wanted to beat him for his mistake, but their leader, Lee Ming, had instead made him responsible for maintaining the desalinization system for the yacht as long as they were on board, which he had done scrupulously ever since. Xiang had overheard a conversation between Lee and another pirate, and learned that they might remain onboard for as long as a week, maybe ten days. It wasn’t their normal operating procedure, but was to be followed until the next phase of their plan was to be put into motion. He didn’t mind; this was the best he’d ever had it in all of his twelve years.

At least he thought he was about twelve years old; the truth was, he had no idea of his birthday, or where he had been born, or who his parents were. The pirate life was all he’d ever known, and he did what he had to do to survive among this band of criminals.

In the shower, he had just gotten the water adjusted to his comfort when a heavy fist pounded on the door. “Xiang! Where’s breakfast?” a familiar voice demanded in guttural Cantonese.

“Shit!” The boy turned the water off and grabbed the nearest towel, wiping himself down and leaping for his clothes. Scrambling into them, he reached for the door just as the fist hammered on it again, making the entire frame shake.

“Coming!” He slid the door open to see the leering face of Guong Ho staring down at him, making Xiang’s buttocks clench involuntarily. “I’d better get up there, otherwise the others will be mad at me, too.” He tried to slip by the stocky, muscular man, but was stopped by a thick arm blocking his way.

“Why the rush, Po?” The man’s stubby fingers combed through the boy’s wet hair. “You look so much better cleaned up.”

Xiang ducked under his arm. “You asked where breakfast was. I need to get to the galley to make it.”

The large man hip-checked him into the wall with surprising agility. His thick fingers grabbed Xiang’s neck as he leaned close to the boy. “You’d better get back into that bed if you know what’s good for you—”

“Po? Ho? What’s going on down there? Where’s our meal?” A strong voice carried down the hallway. Guong immediately straightened and shoved Xiang ahead of him.

“I’m rousting this lazybones right now. Get moving, you!” His hand thudded between Xiang’s shoulder blades, staggering the boy and almost sending him to the marble floor. “This isn’t over, little one,” he hissed under his breath as he followed Xiang to the galley entrance.

“Easy, Ho, you don’t want to injure our cook. Let’s go, Po, everyone is hungry and waiting.” Although their leader’s voice was pleasant enough, his face was all hard, lean planes, with a hooked beak of a nose under glittering black eyes. Xiang knew firsthand that his tone was the only soft thing about him. Lee Ming had killed their previous leader a year ago, and since then had mercilessly trained the small band of pirates to take on larger ships and cargo. He was the one who had come up with the decoy idea, which had worked perfectly for several hijackings—at least, until this last time.

Xiang slid past the pirate leader, shoulders tensed in expectation of a blow, but the man let him pass without interference. Once immaculate and gleaming, the kitchen and its appliances were filthy from the rest of the men coming and going at all hours of the day, leaving rotting food scraps and dirty dishes and bowls everywhere in their wake. The fetid smell made him gag, and he opened the small porthole window to get some fresh air in, then turned on the oven fan to try to clear the stench. With a sigh, Xiang realized he’d let things go unattended here for too long. He’d have to clean the whole area from top to bottom, before it could get any worse.

He checked the walk-in refrigerator, which contained supplies for twice the number of people currently on board, and grabbed a dozen and a half eggs, four pounds of peeled shrimp, crisp bean sprouts, fish sauce and everything else he needed for a giant batch of spicy egg foo yung with shrimp, a quick yet filling meal that would satisfy the chorus of growling stomachs outside.

For the next ten minutes, Xiang lost himself in the ritual of cooking, one of the few things he truly enjoyed, having picked it up from the last leader of their group. The soothing cadence of cracking, chopping and whisking was almost able to distract him from the shocked look of wide-eyed pain on the American’s face when the bullet had hit him, the man’s face still haunting his sleep. Soon the savory smell of cooking egg and shrimp filled the galley, overlying the stink of spoiled food. Xiang also heated plenty of water for tea, finding the last of the leaves in a container underneath the small galley table.

When it was finished, Xiang scooped them into two large bowls—the last clean ones he could find, and reheated the last of the scallion pancakes he’d made the previous night, which had somehow escaped the ravenous men’s notice. Piling everything on a large tray, along with bowls, cups and chopsticks, he carefully carried it out to the rear sundeck, where the men had gathered to eat. The tray was so heavy it made his arms shake, but Xiang didn’t complain or stop moving for a moment, knowing that his only option was to make it to the table with his burden intact.

He emerged from the hallway into a bright morning, with a canopy covering the rear area to ward off the already blazing sun. Out here, the smell of the savory breakfast was overpowered by the salt tang of the ocean. Xiang didn’t look around, but kept his eyes on his goal—the table. He was only concerned once, when Guong Ho feinted as if he was going to rise and come after him. His movement was noticed by Lee, who frowned.

“Don’t make the boy drop our breakfast, Ho, otherwise we’ll have to make you cook, and everyone knows what a lousy chef you are!”

The rest of the pirates roared with laughter while Guong hunkered down in his chair, flushed and glowering. Xiang set the platter down, and the men swarmed over the food like starving sharks, scooping out large portions with their bowls and eating with the chopsticks, or just their fingers. After glaring at Xiang with a dark stare that promised revenge for the perceived insult, Guong Ho dug in, as well.

Xiang stood away from the table, waiting for the men to finish. He noticed that almost all of them had raided the closets of the former occupants. Since the clothes were American, they had been modified, with khaki and linen pant legs rolled up, and many sleeves shortened by a knife blade. Only Lee Ming wore clothes that could even be considered appropriate, having modified the captain’s uniform to fit his slender frame. Xiang frowned. The makeshift outfits could fool a passing ship, but anyone coming onboard would see through the poor disguises in an instant. Normally they sold a ship after stripping it of anything valuable in a few days, but since they were staying this time, the danger increased with every day they remained onboard. Xiang knew he couldn’t say anything about it, since Lee would take that as an affront to his leadership. He’d just have to be vigilant about having an escape route open in case they were caught.

The men had just about finished their breakfasts, leaning back and belching in satisfaction, exchanging smiles and jibes about how much each other had eaten. Xiang waited for Lee to finish, knowing the harsh penalty for attempting to clear the table before their leader was done, when one of the men assigned to monitor the radio walked out of the communications room.

“The demon woman has contacted us—she is coming in for a meeting.”

Xiang was secretly pleased at seeing Lee stiffen slightly upon hearing the message. So, there were people even he feared, the boy thought. It was easy to see why, however. A visit from the demon woman was always fraught with peril. The last time, she’d taken Lee aside for a whispered conversation, then he had pointed out Gouhou Cheng and Xiang. She had sternly interrogated Xiang about the events during the hijacking and he’d done his best to assure her that his shooting the man had been an accident. But she had taken Gouhou away with her. That had been two days ago, and they hadn’t heard anything about or from him since.

Lee let his chopsticks clatter on the table. “When?”

“She will be here in ten minutes. She said all of us should be here on the deck when she arrives.”

“That stuck-up bitch.” Lee’s nostrils flared, and Xiang knew his anger had just risen another notch. Their leader hated kowtowing to the woman, but he swallowed his pride and followed her orders so that the pirates could earn the promised reward for all of this work, a prize far beyond stealing ships, even ones such as this. Xiang had no idea what was necessary to obtain it, but Lee, in one of his rare, expansive moods after drinking a half-bottle of wine one evening, had hinted that it would be enough to let them quit the pirate life forever, to enable them to live like normal people for a change. That was why he’d pushed the men so hard to do their assigned jobs well, so that no one would imperil their chance to leave this life behind.

“Xiang! Clear this mess away. The rest of you, go clean yourselves up. We must look presentable when she arrives.”

The boy jumped to obey, stacking the bowls and loading them onto the tray. Picking it up, he carried his pile into the galley, stacking them in the sink and filling it with hot water to soak them. He took a quick look at himself in the mirror, patting his hair down with water, then scurried back on deck, making sure to stay as close to Lee Ming and as far from Guong Ho as possible.

The rumbling throb of a powerboat could now be heard reverberating over the calm ocean, and Xiang looked off the port side to see a slim, forty-five-foot-long cigarette boat approaching, cutting through the water like a sleek, silver-gray dolphin. It turned sharply toward the yacht, powering down as it closed in. Lee Ming nodded for two men to meet the powerboat. A few minutes later, the demon woman stepped aboard.

Xiang, along with the rest of the men, shifted uneasily in her presence. She was impeccably dressed in a western-style suit, with a cream silk blouse under matching dark pinstriped blazer and pants. Despite the heat, she didn’t sweat, and her hair was restrained in what looked like an ivory holder and draped her left shoulder. She carried a small, alligator-skin briefcase in her right hand. Her eyes were concealed behind dark blue designer sunglasses that lent her face an alien, insectile quality. Whenever he saw her, a strange mixture of feelings cascaded over Xiang: fear and anger and another emotion that he couldn’t quite identify.

Setting the briefcase down on the table with a thump, she didn’t waste time with greetings. “Why haven’t you repainted the boat? It has been three days since you took it, yet it still looks the same.”

Lee Ming concealed his anger under a calm, lazy affectation. “It is difficult to do such work when we are being interrupted by pointless meetings with you all the time.”

She smiled, her white teeth flashing in a vulpine grin. “This meeting is anything but pointless, asshole. I have your next assignment, but first, an object lesson for you and the rest of these dirty pigs.”

Now she had all of the men’s attention. Of course, calling Ming an asshole and the rest of them dirty pigs would do that, Xiang thought. One or two of them tensed, as if they were going to try to jump her, but Lee froze them in place with just a look. He returned his attention to the woman, who stood by the table like a statue, watching them all from behind her dark sunglasses.

“Please, continue.” One could almost miss the gritted strain in his voice, he covered it well.

“In here is money for resupplying the boat, as well as getting the damn thing painted. It had better be done in the next two days, or we’ll find another crew to handle this operation. And if you doubt my word—”

She popped open the locks on the briefcase, opened it and took out a small lacquered box inlaid with gold filigree. “I brought you a gift from my superior.” She set it on the table in front of Lee. “Open it.”

Even Xiang knew that opening a gift immediately after receiving it was bad form, but since it was more of an order than a request, Lee didn’t have a choice. He reached out and undid the tiny metal clasp with one hand, then flipped the cover open. The men behind him gasped in surprise, but Lee showed no hint of any reaction at all.

Xiang carefully sidled closer to the table, overcome with curiosity. He had just gotten a glimpse of something that looked sort of like a dried fleshy finger when Lee slammed the cover shut, his fingers curling into a fist over the box.

The woman continued as if she didn’t notice his boiling rage. “We dropped off the rest of him on the way here. I imagine the sharks dined well. My superior was very displeased with his actions when you took over this boat. He trusts there will be no further incidents like the one that cost Cheng his life.”

Xiang, like many of the other pirates, gaped at her in shock. The woman had overseen one of the most grievous insults to a Chinese person by denying him a proper burial. But instead of acting ashamed, she stood tall and proud, as if pleased by what she had carried out. Xiang hadn’t been overly fond of Cheng, as he was a drunkard and a bully, but even he wouldn’t have considered the thought of doing something that heinous to the man’s body.

The woman stood over Lee, as if daring him to reply. The silence stretched out for many seconds. Finally, the pirate leader looked up. “We shall do everything you require. There will be no further...incidents.”

“Good. You will also need to recruit more men. My superior has decided that we will be taking two vessels for the mission, not just one.”

The shock of the “gift” was replaced by the surprise of this new directive. Even Lee’s eyebrows raised at this. “Taking over one ship was going to be difficult enough, but two—”

“I did not ask for your opinion, I told you what you must do. If this is a problem, then I can find other men willing to undertake this mission, rendering all of you—” her gaze, even through the sunglasses, raked across everyone “—as expendable as that pig there.” She waved a hand at the box. “Get this boat repainted, get more men, preferably some with large ship experience, and be ready to move in two days. We will contact you with further instructions then.”

Lee swallowed, his fisted hands having disappeared under the table. “Everything will be ready as you have requested.” His voice had gone low and very soft. The pirates edged away from him; they knew exactly what that tone meant. Xiang slowly crept back to his place near the hallway entrance; when the time came, he wanted to have his bolt hole close at hand.

“Good. And no more fuck-ups, or you’ll all join your friend as shark bait. Well, except for some parts, perhaps.” She grinned again, turned on her heel and descended back to the boat. With a muffled roar, the powerboat pushed off, then turned and disappeared into the distance, shrinking until it could no longer be seen, and its engine noise was nothing but a loud memory.

Lee sat at the table for a long minute, then took the box and hurled it overboard, contents and all. “I swear, we will complete our job, but before we do, that bitch will be dead.”

He rose with such force that his chair toppled over, skidding on the hardwood deck. “Let’s move, all of you! Get underway, head for the island! We’ll show them just how we get things done!”

He stalked into the main room as the rest of the men scrambled to obey his orders. Xiang ducked into the hallway to the galley and began cleaning the pots, wondering just how much harder their plan was going to be now.

And what exactly did the demon woman mean by two ships?