Читать книгу The Killing Grounds: an explosive and gripping thriller for fans of James Patterson - Jack Ford, Jack Ford - Страница 9

How long does it take a man to realize his life is going to change forever? For Thomas J. Cooper it was barely a moment. Just a flicker of a stare to trace the angles of dark stretching shadows against the oak cabin walls. The slightest of turns towards the fluctuating sounds of the lapping waves. And that was all. Yet it told him everything he needed to know… They were in trouble.

‘Jackson…! Jackson…! What the hell…!’

Knocking over the glass of iced lemonade, Cooper scrambled up from the cream leather recliner he’d been asleep on. Took the yacht’s wood and chrome stairs three at a time. Charging along the highly polished deck of the sleek, white vessel. Cursing to himself as he slipped on the wet.

Bolting forward, he spotted the tall, sun-drenched figure of Jackson leaning against the bow rails. A bottle of whiskey in hand. A grin on his face. And a half cut look in his eye.

‘Hey Coop, is this the life or what? Nothing but open waters. Reckon I should get myself a job on the high seas…’

Cooper could see he was drunk. And God knows, it was the last thing he needed.

He watched Jackson step on to the top rails of the yacht.

Take the last slug of whiskey.

Throw the bottle casually into the sea.

Stretched out his arms shouting loudly. Forcing his slurred words to rise high above the sound of the sea. ‘Name the film, Coop… But I’ll give you a clue… I’m king of the world!’

But Cooper said nothing. Instead, he instinctively squinted up at the African skies.

Slipped off his watch to lie it flat on his palm.

Lined up the hour hand to point at the sun.

Giving him a crude idea of the direction they were sailing in.

And the knot in his stomach told him it was as he’d feared. North. They were heading north.

Swaying precariously on the bow rails, Jackson didn’t sense or notice or care or see or feel Cooper’s alarm. ‘Oh come on man, you gotta know. Coop, it’s easy… Titanic. Even my dog could’ve got that one. Maybe I make a better Rose though. What do you think? Can you see me playing opposite DiCaprio…? I love you Jack. I love you. Never let me go!’

‘Get the hell down! Now!’

Cooper yanked on Jackson’s arm. Hard. Real hard. Dragging him to the safety of the deck. And with the smell of alcohol heavy on his breath and a look of indignation he said, ‘Hey! What’s got up your nose Coop? All that… ’

‘Listen to me… ’ Cooper stopped suddenly as a cold uneasiness came over him like a sudden temperature drop. His eyes darting across the cerulean sea. ‘Jackson, I need you to start turning the boat round. We’re going to have to jibe her, but we gotta to do it fast.’

Jackson stared at him in astonishment. ‘Jibe? You’re crazy. The crosswind’s too strong to try to turn downwind. You’ll capsize her for sure.’

‘What’s going on?’ Ellie Granger, Cooper’s long-term girlfriend, stood bleary eyed behind them. She asked the same question which was on Jackson’s lips.

Cooper turned to her. And although his words were quickly spoken, he made sure they held warmth. He said, ‘Hey baby, look there’s no need to panic, but we’re going to have to turn the boat round. We’ve got to get back to Lamu as quickly as we can.’

She pushed her blond hair out of her big blue eyes and looked around puzzled and said, ‘I don’t get it. How long have I been asleep, Tom? I thought we were anchored up?’

Giving a side-glance to Jackson, Cooper spoke more to himself than her. ‘So did I, honey, so did I.’

Upon which his attention snapped back to Jackson. He barked out orders. Short. Sharp and precise. ‘Start pulling in the main sheet, I’ll come and help you but I’ve got to go and radio in our position.’

A veil of fear crossed Ellie’s face. She’d known Cooper since high school. Childhood sweethearts. Inseparable from the very first day. Fifteen years ago. Give or take a month. Yet in all that time she’d never seen him look the way he did now.

Her voice edged with anxiety. With unease. ‘Tom, you’re still not making sense. Why do you need to radio in? Is something wrong with the engine?’

Taking her hands, Cooper stared into her eyes intently. Locked into her gaze. And gave her a reassurance which he didn’t feel. ‘It’s just a precaution baby, okay.’

‘Tom, please. You’re making me nervous.’

‘Trust me honey, it’ll be okay. I promise.’

Jackson, beginning to sober up, grabbed Cooper’s arm. ‘Listen man, I didn’t mean anything by it. You guys were asleep so I thought it’d be fun to sail her. No harm done. Right?’

Shaking himself free from Jackson’ grip and not wanting to spend any more time explaining or talking or reassuring, Cooper began to hurry back below decks to where the mounted chart table was. His reply to Jackson was lost in the wind.

*

At the chart table, Cooper quickly scrutinized the radar screen. Watched the sweeping beam detect the flashing targets approaching their yacht at speed. And without hesitation, he picked up the radio. Selected the emergency maritime frequency.

‘Mayday, mayday, mayday! This is the Yankee Girl requesting urgent assistance from any US naval vessel. I repeat, this is Yankee Girl requesting urgent assistance. We are at 0-2 degrees, 21 north, 26-41 west. Mayday, mayday.’

There was a brief interval of silence before the radio crackled loudly. ‘Affirmative. I understand the vessel’s name is Yankee Girl. Break. Break. Vessel Yankee Girl. Vessel Yankee Girl, this is USS Abraham Lincoln. Request to know if you are in need of assistance. Over.’

‘Roger. In need of urgent military assistance.’

Cooper paused. Glanced at the target approaching on screen, adding. ‘Potential piracy situation. Over.’

‘Pirates? Oh my God, Tom, is that why we have to get back to Lamu?’

Ellie stood on the stairs. Her face drained of the softness of color as the voice on the radio cut through the air.

‘Yankee Girl, please identify yourself. Over.’

‘Ellie, please. Just go back to Jackson. I promise, I’ll explain everything. Let me just sort this out.’

Her voice trembled and she said, ‘Not until you tell me exactly what’s going on.’

‘Yankee Girl, I repeat. Identify yourself.’

‘I’m sorry baby, I got to do this.’

He turned his back on her. Not wanting. Not being able to deal with the hurt. The fear in her eyes. He raised the handset to his mouth. ‘This is Lieutenant Thomas J. Cooper of the US Naval Special Forces. Over.’

He heard a hint of surprise in the voice on the other end of the radio.

‘Lieutenant Cooper? This is Petty Officer Monroe, you are aware that this is an open radio channel and contrary to naval protocol for military personnel. Over.’

Cooper clenched his jaw as well as his fist. Tried to keep his composure. But it was tough. And he heard the strain in his own voice. ‘Affirmative, Officer Monroe, I am fully aware of protocol, but I repeat, urgent assistance required. Over.’

‘Lieut…’

Cooper cut him off as he heard Ellie walk away. The authority of rank speeding into his voice.

‘I repeat! This is a mayday call and as such, Monroe, you just need to listen and do your job… Over.’

‘Sir, yes sir! Please stand by, Yankee Girl.’

Placing the radio handset on the table, Cooper grabbed the binoculars before running back up the stairs to the deck. Two at a time.

He could see Ellie had now joined Jackson, who was pulling on the ropes. Struggling. Hauling in the main sheet as it billowed in the oceanic winds.

Pointing at the flapping sail, Cooper yelled, ‘Pull her tight! Jackson. Keep pulling her tight!’

Then through his binoculars, he scanned the horizon whilst listening to the desperate cries of Jackson.

‘Cooper…! Cooper! I need your help! She’s going to capsize!’

‘Hold her down Jackson. Just try to keep her steady… Ellie, take the slack up from behind him. I’ll come and take over in a minute… Whatever you do, just hold on.’

Chasing back down below decks, Cooper picked up the radio again to a different, but familiar sounding voice. A voice he could’ve done without.

‘Come in Yankee Girl. I repeat, this is Captain Neill. Do you copy? Over.’

‘Copy, sir. Requesting urgent assistance.’

‘Lieutenant Cooper, I understand you’re at 02 degrees, 21 north, 26-41 west, though presumably, Lieutenant, you’re aware it’s a high risk area with a code two situational alert.’

Cooper glanced at the flashing targets on the navigational screen moving closer. So close. Too close to the yacht. And the strangling panic wrung tighter and his words singed with anger. ‘With respect sir, both of us know it’s my business to be aware of all situational alerts, and therefore I understand the likelihood of a pirate attack is real, and most likely imminent.’

‘Have you had visual?’

‘Negative sir, but radar shows targets – likely to be pirates – heading straight for us at around 35 knots. ETA, just under ten minutes. Over.’

The captain’s voice was closed. Hostile. And it took every bit of restraint inside Cooper not to rip out the radio from the wall.

‘Cooper, let me get this straight. You’ve had no visual, yet you’re expecting me to send out my men on the likelihood.’

That was it. The wall invited him to punch it. And he accepted. Gratefully.

Frustrated, his tone still held discipline. He said, ‘That’s correct, sir.’

A pause.

A hush.

A silence which sounded like a ticking clock.

And eventually. Tightly. Captain Beau Neill said, ‘Lieutenant, request understood… and approved. I’m passing you back over to Petty Officer Monroe… But Cooper, don’t think I won’t speak to you about this when you get back on the ship.’

A couple of drawn, long seconds, followed by the voice of Officer Monroe. ‘Yankee Girl, have you had visual yet, sir? Over.’

‘Negative, but targets nearing.’

‘Are you on your own?’

‘Negative Monroe, two adult civilians on board. One male, one female.’

‘Are you armed, Lieutenant?’

‘Affirmative.’

Then the words Thomas J. Cooper had been waiting for.

‘Air support on its way. ETA twelve minutes. In the meantime, I advise you to get the civilians below decks… And Lieutenant, good luck.’

*

‘Ellie…! Ellie…! I want you to go downstairs to the cabin, lock the door, hide in the closet. Anywhere you’ll be out of sight.’

Charging towards her, Cooper watched as she shook her head, terror sketched and engraved into her features. She stood portside behind Jackson and, taking up the slack of the rope, she raised her voice to compete with the wind,

‘No, Tom! No way, I’m staying up here to help.’

Before he had time to argue, Jackson began to jibe the boat. Forcing the yacht to make the hazardous one-eighty turn. It tilted dangerously. Rolling treacherously in the waves. Cutting sharply through the water like a blade on silk as he expertly coaxed in the mainsail. Fighting. Battling the surging wind.

And the noise of the thick canvas sail, thunderous as it snapped through the air.

The boom swung across the decks. Shaking violently. Threatening to come lose from her tacks. And with the wind becoming increasingly stronger, harder to defeat, Jackson yelled frantically. ‘Coop! I can’t hold her! Coop! Please!’

Cooper hurried to help. But as he did the crosswind caught under the mainsail. Filling it out and causing the boom to swing back at speed across the deck towards Jackson.

‘Look out!’

The rapidity of the vessel’s boom hurtling sideways made it impossible for Jackson to get out of the way.

It hit him hard.

Split open his forehead from the bridge of his nose to the base of his hairline.

A large skin flap exposed an inch-wide wound as a fountain of blood first patterned then soaked his top. Pooling down onto the deck. He jerked backwards. His body going into seizure. Caused him to slump hard into Ellie as his legs gave way. Sending her staggering back towards the rails.

‘No! ...’

Cooper’s cry stretched further than his reach. His fingertips only managing to brush Ellie’s hands. Too far to catch her but not too far to miss the terror, the panic, frozen in her eyes as she mouthed his name. Screaming out for him to help as she buckled under Jackson’s weight. Losing balance as both she and Jackson plunged overboard.

Racing over the chain rigging, steadying himself as the yacht bobbed fiercely up and down, Cooper grabbed the lifebuoy. Stole a quick glimpse round.

The wind had begun to blow the sails straight on. Denying them any lift. Leaving them to flutter passively like flags at half-mast. And he knew the combination of the dying sails and the boom crashing freely from side to side would stall the vessel to an eventual stop, allowing him to attempt to rescue Jackson and Ellie without fear of the yacht drifting away.

Dashing over to the rails, Cooper leant over.

Ellie had always teased him about the concern he’d shown over her not being able to swim, but she was now floundering and struggling and battling and terrified as the force of the ocean pounded her into the side of the yacht, her hands sliding down the fiberglass side as she desperately scrabbled for some kind of hold.

With water rushing over her face and into her mouth, Ellie’s words were punctuated with the sounds of wild gasping.

‘Help… me… Tom…! Tom…! Help… me… please…’

Throwing the buoy to her, Cooper’s eyes once again darted along the surface of the ocean. But this time he was looking for Jackson. ‘Ellie, hang on to that…Whatever you do, keep hold of it.’

‘Pull me up!’

‘I have to get Jackson… just hold on.’

‘Tom…! No, wait! ...’

He turned away and Ellie continued to scream his name. The draw for him to look back was hypnotic. But he couldn’t. Shouldn’t. Wouldn’t. In truth, he didn’t dare. His composure was already beginning to crack. Peeling away. Exposing his vulnerability which he knew would serve only to distract. Costing time. Costing lives.

There… He could see Jackson to the left of the boat. Unconscious. Floating face down.

And without a breath of hesitation, Thomas J. Cooper dived in.

‘I’m here… It’s okay, I’m here… Stay with me Jackson, stay with me!’

Treading water, Cooper turned Jackson over carefully. Real slowly. And the sea turned red with blood.

‘Jackson…! Jackson!’

There was no response, but that didn’t surprise Cooper. He could see the injuries to Jackson’s head were worse than he’d initially thought. The gash so deep he could see skull. His eyes so swollen, if he’d been conscious, Cooper doubted Jackson would’ve been able to open them anyway. But at least he was alive. Barely. But alive all the same, and whatever happened, he was determined to keep it that way.

Using an extended arm tow with his hand under Jackson’s chin, Cooper swam, heading for the yacht’s ladder. He could hear Ellie still screaming. Screaming strong. But that was good. Real good. It told him what he wanted to know… She was still there.

Unexpected swells of rolling waves suddenly carried Cooper and Jackson sideward. And the sound of roaring and chugging and racing engines and a glance to his left confirmed his fears. Old battered white skiffs. And in them, Somalian pirates. Heavily armed and sporting t-shirts bearing American logos and wearing Bedouin scarfs showing only their eyes.

They hadn’t seen him. Though he knew it was only a matter of time. His only chance, however slim, was to get to the stern box on the other side of the yacht which held his gun. In desperation, Cooper dived under the water, dragging an unconscious Jackson with him.

Under the surface the sounds were distorted. The vision blurred, made harder from the dark billowing clouds of Jackson’s blood. And Cooper counted down, calculating how long it’d be safe to keep an unconscious Jackson under water.

Four seconds.

Three.

Two.

Re-surfacing, and hoping he was near enough to the yacht, Cooper was met by an onslaught of bullets and a firing of guns and a fusion of sounds and a discord of chaos and Cooper’s breathing was hard and his chest was tight and his energy was slowly draining away.

Chopping waves and whirling blades hovering above sent a downdraft of stinging ocean spray. And to the soundtrack of machine guns and through a gusting wind, Cooper squinted up.

And there in the sun drenched sky, reflecting light like armored angels waging war with dragons, were two US Navy helicopters.

As the skiffs turned and retreated the aerial rescue basket was lowered into the water and Cooper kissed Jackson on the side of his head. He whispered, ‘It’s goin’ to be alright. You hear me, Jackson? It’s going to be alright.’

*

‘Lieutenant, we’re going to take you both back to the ship,’ the US navy officer shouted above the blare of the rotating blades as the air crewmen hoisted Jackson and Cooper into the Seahawk helicopter.

And with the helicopter beginning to rise and veer away from the yacht, Cooper shook his head. Gesturing desperately to the crewmen as he watched them tend to an unconscious Jackson.

‘Lower me back down… Now!’

‘Sorry sir, we have orders to get you straight back to the ship.’

Cooper’s voice was barely heard but he had no doubt his face conveyed the lost sound of anger. ‘I don’t give a damn about orders, Officer. Just lower me the hell down. There’s one other civilian still in the water.’

‘Sir, the other helicopter will have it covered. I’m sorry sir, there’s nothing I can do.’

*

‘Where’s Ellie? Answer me, Officer, when I’m talking to you.’

Struggling to hold down his sense of panic, Cooper stood on the landing pad of the USS Abraham Lincoln, as the air crewmen from the second Seahawk helicopter made their way from the chopper.

His panic. His fear. Emotions which held familiar echoes of his childhood. Feelings he’d refused to allow to penetrate as an adult began to engulf him. Overwhelm him.

‘You heard me, Daniels, where’s Ellie?’

The tall. Sinewy. Bald-headed seaman who Cooper could see was now regretting being first out of the helicopter, paled. Muttering the fewest of words.

‘I’m… I’m sorry, Lieutenant.’

The mix of bewilderment and shock and disbelief and confusion acted as a catalyst for Cooper’s anger. He lunged at the new recruit. Grabbed him by his oversized flight suit and shook the hell out of him.

‘What are you talking about? Answer the goddamn question!’

Daniels looked behind him, hoping his colleagues would come to help – not to his physical rescue, but to his verbal one. ‘I… I am, sir… I did.’

The pain of the migraine behind Cooper’s eyes began to blur his vision. The pain of it shooting down his nose. But he didn’t care. He didn’t give a damn. All he wanted was answers. ‘Then tell it to me again, Daniels. Tell me again… Where is Ellie?’

‘She’s gone. I’m sorry.’

Hysteria channelled Cooper’s words. He shook his head in disbelief. His voice a cocktail of laughter and pain and dread rose louder and louder. ‘Gone? Gone where, Officer? Where is it you think she’s gone? To the mall? To a baby shower? To a goddamn Yankees game?’

‘Sir, no sir. When I say gone, I mean missing, lost at sea… presumed… presumed dead… sir.’

Letting go, he pushed Daniels hard away. Knocked him to the floor. But Cooper’s rage engulfed him. Driving him on to crouch down to where the officer had fallen. Leaning over him and squeezing and pressing the officer’s throat. Feeling the man’s trachea moving about on his palm.

Daniels rasped.

‘I know what you mean officer, but you see, that’s not possible. Shall I tell you why it isn’t? Because she was there, you son of a bitch. I heard her… Do you understand what I’m saying? She was still there!’

‘That’s enough, Cooper.’

Captain Beau Neill stood slightly to the side of Cooper, kneading the base of his back with his knuckles as shock-waves of pain darted through his body. Sciatica. It was the damnedest of things. He’d experienced the battle of Huê, Vietnam, in the late February of ’68. Been on more tours of duty than he could easily recall without referring to naval records. Yet it was the sciatica which was beating him. Slowly. Painfully. Relentlessly. Forcing him to give up his career, which was tantamount to giving up life.

Through gritted teeth, Neill directed his conversation to Officer Daniels. ‘Go ahead, explain to Lieutenant Cooper what happened, he needs to hear it.’

Daniels stood up. Held his throat. Looked hesitant. Wasn’t able to hold eye contact, though he articulated the course of events confidently. ‘I was in the second helicopter sir, and once the lieutenant and the male civilian had been rescued safely, and due to civilian one being…’

Cooper snapped. ‘His name’s Jackson. Jackson Woods.’

‘Sir. Due to… due to Mr. Woods’s severe injury, Seahawk one headed back to the ship. Seahawk two’s main objective was then to pick up the second civilian… I’m sorry, Lieutenant, I don’t know her name.’

Staring at Daniels, Cooper’s eyes were void of emotion. Listlessly he uttered,

‘Just carry on.’

‘From the air we couldn’t see the second civilian, and as we were able to establish the present threat had left the area, as well as alerting the Kenyan coast guards, two divers began a search and rescue.’

Knowing the answer already but for due diligence, Captain Neill probed. ‘Were you one of the divers, Officer?’

‘No sir, I continued in the helicopter which located the skiffs, eight miles north. By then we also had assistance from the counter piracy control unit. After warning shots, the two skiffs conceded and the PC unit searched the vessels. It was clear, sir, they’d discarded their weapons overboard because the only items found were fuel barrels, long ladders and grappling hooks. The PC unit then commenced to confiscate the property to ensure the suspects had no means to conduct any attacks. We then transferred them all into the one skiff, destroying and sinking the other one, prior to escorting the suspects back to the Somali shoreline. On our way back to assist the divers, we were informed by the appropriate authorities they were changing the MO from search and rescue to search and recover… I’m really sorry, Lieutenant Cooper.’

Captain Neill, visibly tormented by the pain hitting the top of his legs with unyielding brutality, and opposed to any sort of sentiment in the line of duty, snarled at Daniels.

‘Now get the hell out of here.’

‘Wait…! I said wait.’

Cooper strode up to Daniels. He was finding it hard to focus. Thoughts chaotically crossing from Ellie to Jackson, who’d earlier been flown on to Nairobi.

‘Yes, sir?’

‘You said two.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘You said there were two skiffs.’

‘Yes sir.’

‘There were three… Three skiffs.’

Daniels shook his head. ‘With respect, sir, there were just the two.’

Cooper pressed his palm into his eye, feeling the pulsating throb. ‘Are you trying to tell me I don’t know the difference between two and goddamn three?’

‘No sir, of course not. But in this case there were only two skiffs.’

The bellow from Cooper made the crew on the far side of the landing pad turn round curiously. ‘Three! One, two, three. Which means, she’s on the third.’

A puzzled crease formed on Daniels’s forehead. ‘Who… who sir?’

‘Ellie. Who the hell do you think I mean? I…’ Cooper stopped to ride on a wave of nausea as sweet saliva rushed into his mouth like a fountain. He swallowed hard. ‘She can’t have drowned, so there’s no point in search and recover. There isn’t a body to find.’

Turing to Captain Neill. The strain. The urgency in Cooper’s voice was palpable.

‘We have to deploy two, perhaps three units to the shore and contact the naval land base in Lamu, then…’

Neill cut through Cooper’s animation with tangible disdain. ‘Get yourself under control, Lieutenant, you’ve got a position to keep. Your subordinates are watching.’

‘My only concern here is with Ellie and sending an operations team to get her.’

‘Maybe you should’ve thought about that before.’

Captain Beau Neill pivoted on his heel and walked away. He nodded to Daniels to do the same which he gratefully did.

‘Don’t walk away from me, Beau. You hear me? Don’t you walk away.’

The captain jerked to a standstill. The words acting like the slamming of brakes. He spoke to Cooper with his back turned. His tenor a quiet menace. ‘Who the hell do you think you’re speaking to, Lieutenant?’

‘I don’t know, Captain, I’ve often wondered that myself.’

‘Be very careful, Cooper.’

‘Careful, careful of what? How the hell do you expect me to behave, when every minute we stand here Ellie gets further away from my reach? From our help. They’ll take her God knows where and do God knows what. And maybe they’ll ask for a ransom or maybe like others before her she’ll just disappear without a trace.’

Neill swiveled round. Flexing and relaxing his mouth. ‘Now you’ve finished lecturing me, I’ll tell you what I expect. I expect you to conduct yourself with the appropriate decorum, Lieutenant, as is your duty.’

Cooper tasted the bitterness coating his reply. ‘Decorum. Conduct. Goddamn duty. Those words read like a handbook from my childhood, Captain.’

Neill stepped in closer. Inches away. ‘I also expect you to see the truth when it’s in front of you… There was no third skiff. Ellie’s dead. Drowned, Lieutenant.’

‘No… no, you’ve all got it wrong. She was there. Moments before, she was there.’

‘You’re embarrassing yourself, Lieutenant… Answer me this. Was Ellie wearing a harness? A lifejacket?’

Blinking, Cooper stared for a minute. Introvertedly he said, ‘No,’

‘And so correct me if I’m wrong, Cooper; you knew Ellie had no idea how to swim, yet you didn’t insist on her wearing a jacket on the yacht? Do the math.’

Cooper grabbed him. And grabbed him hard. ‘You son of a bitch, you’re enjoying this aren’t you, Beau?’

Neill stared coldly. ‘Get your hands off me, Lieutenant.’

There was silence between the two men before Cooper, awash with a sense of defeat, dropped his hold. His hope.

‘I’m asking for your help, Captain. I’ve never asked you for anything. Not when I was a kid. Not as an adult. But I’m asking you now. Please. Please, Beau, I beg you. Send a unit to look for Ellie. Help me bring her back.’

For a moment Captain Neill held Cooper’s gaze. His mouth moved as if about to say something but instead, he turned and walked away without saying another word.

*

‘Lieutenant. Governor Woods has arrived en route from Lamu, he’s asking to speak to you, sir, before we fly him on to see his son in Nairobi.’

Cooper stood in a catatonic state by the ship’s railings as the slightly overweight 3rd petty officer informed him of the arrival. He nodded, too consumed with grief to speak.

‘Thomas, it’s good to see you.’ Woods stopped, realizing his voice seemed too loud. His composure too contrived. Then quietly he tried again. ‘Your Uncle Beau’s just filled me in on everything. I’m sorry about Ellie. It’s devastating. I liked her a lot.’

Continuing to stare out to sea as the night’s sky merged with the darkness of the ocean, Cooper answered. Barely. ‘And if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t be sorry?’

John Woods, the newly elected Governor of Illinois, pulled gently on his arm. Turning Cooper round to face him. ‘Hey, you know I didn’t mean that. Come on, Coop, don’t make me your enemy. I’m on your side.’

Cooper’s tone was flat. He sighed. Noticed the painful sunburn on Woods’s nose. Then a memory came to mind of how proud Jackson had been of him when he was elected Governor. ‘She’s alive. I know it. I can feel it… What? You’re going to tell me I didn’t see three skiffs as well?’

‘No… No. I just…’ The Governor trailed off before continuing a moment later. ‘What the hell happened out there anyway?’

Cooper said nothing. His thoughts trailed away. It’d only been this morning that he’d been laughing with Ellie. So pleased. So delighted. So happy she’d decided to come and see him.

The trip to Kenya had been a last minute, spur of the moment kind of holiday for Ellie, Jackson and John. The one time everyone’s diaries had coincided, but the driving force had definitely been Ellie.

Having been deployed to the naval base in Lamu – setting up and heading a new counter piracy taskforce in the area – Ellie had missed Cooper, and although his military training and experience had taught him to dissociate, damn, he’d missed her too.

Finding out he’d had a week off, Ellie had decided to fly out and visit, and when she’d mentioned it to Jackson – who she’d known almost fifteen years – he’d decided to come too. And then there was John, who, having always wanted to go on safari, and having a rare few days off, had taken the opportunity to join them as well. It’d been perfect. But like the petals of a rose, perfect never lasted.

Woods interrupted Cooper’s thoughts. Gently encouraging him, pushing him to talk.

‘Coop…? Tell me what happened.’

‘Okay. Alright… So you’d already left to go on safari. Ellie thought it’d be cool for us to all sail up the coast on the yacht we hired and have a picnic. I didn’t see a problem and Jackson was up for it. When we got there I anchored up. Had something to eat. And that was it really.’

‘Coop, come on, you guys were found just a few miles off the coast of Somalia. There’s no way you of all people would’ve sailed into danger and put anyone, especially Ellie or Jackson, at risk.’

‘Look, I was in charge of the yacht, so there’s no-one else to blame…’

‘Just tell me what happened. I want to hear it.’

‘It was hot. She was tired. So Ellie and I went downstairs for a sleep. I dunno, maybe I shouldn’t have done… Anyway, when I woke up… I knew we were in trouble.’

‘So it was Jackson.’

‘But he didn’t know the dangers. He’s a great yachtsman so I guess he wouldn’t have seen the harm in it.’

‘Jesus.’

Governor Woods leant on the railings.

Cooper spoke matter-of-factly. ‘I’m going to say it was me.’

The shock in the Governor’s voice was as clear as it was in his eyes. ‘What the hell for?’

‘Jackson. He’d been drinking.’

‘Oh, Christ.’

‘If I say it was me, it should really be the end of it.’

‘Not sure if the Navy will see it like that.’

Cooper shrugged his shoulders. ‘So I get disciplined. You know something, John? I really don’t care anymore.’

Woods shook his head. ‘No, I can’t let you do that.’

‘What’s the alternative? They find out Jackson was drinking, and then what? You really think the Kenyan authorities will just give him a slap on the wrist when he was drunk in charge of a vessel and caused…’ Cooper stopped, unable and unwilling to finish the sentence.

‘I don’t know, Coop.’

‘Well, I do. And I also know what a hell-hole a Kenyan jail will be. We both know Jackson couldn’t cope for a day in somewhere like that, let alone serve a long prison sentence. I won’t do that to him. Or to you. There’s your job to think about.’

‘Look, this isn’t about my job.’

‘Oh yeah? Try telling the opposing party that. You know what’s it like, they’ll want to destroy you, John. They look for anything. And even though this has nothing to do with you, it’ll affect your political career… Jackson’s so proud of what you’ve achieved. Let him continue being proud.’

‘Governor Woods, excuse me, sir…’ The 3rd petty officer walked towards Cooper and Woods, slightly hesitant after what he’d seen happen to his colleague earlier.

He said, ‘Sorry to disturb you sir, but your helicopter is ready to take you to the hospital.’

‘Thank you, officer, just give me a minute.’

Woods turned to Cooper. Face taut with stress. Mirroring each other. ‘Okay. Do what you have to do… But Tom, this conversation never happened.’

He began to walk away but stopped. Quietly said,

‘I really am sorry about Ellie. Maybe you should go and see the Medic. He can give you something. You’ve had a shock.’

Cooper didn’t mean to sound so bitter, but he knew he did. ‘Pop a pill to make it alright? Make it all go away, John?’

‘That’s not what I’m saying.’

‘Thanks but no thanks. I’ve never been a believer in medicating myself and I’m not about to start now.’

‘Well okay, it was just a thought… And I’m here for you. If you need to talk, you know where I am.’

Cooper nodded slowly. Tried to smile. Gave up. ‘I appreciate that. Keep me informed about Jackson… And hey, put some cream on that nose, it looks sore.’

Absentmindedly, Woods touched the sunburn on his face, wincing slightly. ‘You know, Cooper, the hardest thing to do is to let someone we love go. But you have to, Tom. You have to let her go.’