“We stay in communication the whole time,” Braden said. “I get Cressida and get her to safety, then and only then do we completely disable the vessel—that is, if things go south as you said.”
“Do you know she’s there?” Hawk’s tone sounded heavy.
“She’d better be,” Braden said. “And my guess is that she’s already planning her escape.”
But what he couldn’t voice, the words he wouldn’t put out into the air—Cressida was running out of time.
41
Cressida ducked into an alcove and pressed her back against the wall, grateful for shadows and dim lights in the hallway. The salvage boat rocked with the choppy waves.
The floor vibrated and the rhythmic clanking of chains and cables echoed into the hall. A sharp hiss startled her—the hydraulics that controlled the cranes and could already have lowered the ROV—remotely operated vehicle—to retrieve what they’d come for. A shudder crawled over her.
Cressida did not want to be on this vessel if they actually retrieved nuclear material. She assumed they had prepared shielded containers and would monitor radiation, but that was a big assumption. Plus, she needed to stop this, no matter the cost.
God, how do I make this stop?
Someone wanted the information that Cressida’s father had discovered because of Evelyn’s request. Cressida had to go and reach right into the heart of a hornet’s nest and end up holding the prize everyone wanted ... but now the swarm was after her. Heavy booted footsteps soundedmuch too close, and she stilled to listen to two men arguing, but she couldn’t make out any words besides“clear” and “impasse.”
They moved closer to her position. She held her breath. No one had discovered Trent yet, but as soon as he woke up, she was done for if she didn’t find her way off this craft.
“I don’t like this,” Man One said. “We don’t have all the appropriate protocols in place for a night salvage, not to mention we don’t know the condition of the cargo, exactly.”
“We’ve prepared for anything we find, but we don’t have time to wait for you to get your act together.” Man Two spoke, and his voice sounded familiar. “We get in and we get out before someone comes to look for her.”
“And if they come for her?” Man One asked.
“Better to dump her body before they do,” Man Two said.Malloy?
Cressida held back a gasp. How could he talk about her like that, as if she meant nothing at all, after he’d delivered her to Hidden Bay and even warned her on the pier that day, and again, to watch her back?
Yeah, watch her back for the likes of him.
The two men paused. Listening?
Lord, please help me.
A loud voice crackled, blasting over the ship’s intercom system. “TeamA, brace the ROV. We’re lifting the package. No mistakes this time!”
The two men raced away, and Cressida allowed herself to breathe. The constant vibration and low rumble of the ship’s engines and power generators filled her ears.
But the package. They’re bringing the package aboard now? She couldn’t allow that to happen, but how did she stop it? Trent was going to wake up soon, and they’d search for her. She had no time to waste.
I need a radio to call for help.A VHF marine radio. But theycould be monitoring that. If she could get her hands on a satellite phone, she could possibly make a private call. She might find one in the captain’s quarters. Whoever claimed captainship—Malloy? Trent? Malloy’s son, Dax?—wouldn’t be in his quarters during this most important ROV operation to bring up the package—whatever was inside the package. The thought of the contents terrified her.
Think, Cressida,think.Captain’s quarters on a vessel like this would be in the superstructure, which was on the main deck. Probably near the bridge. Maybe he wouldn’t be in his quarters, but those quarters weren’t far from the main activity.
Oh, what are you thinking?
If only she’d found a satellite phone on Trent. But she was dressed the part, and so she would act the part. She made her way to the upper deck to find the captain’s quarters or a satellite phone—some way to communicate her location and call for assistance. Even if she escaped on a skiff, she was in international waters and the chances of her survival weren’t good. Might as well die trying.
Finally, above deck inside the superstructure, she stalked the narrow halls as if she had purpose and a place to be, passing a few cabins until she spotted the captain’s quarters, clearly marked as such. The door stood open, confirming she was right that no one would be there during this critical moment in their operation. Inside the room, she moved right to the desk. A desktop was running but asleep, so no one had been here for a minute. Near the desk she found communication equipment—monitors and radios so the captain could communicate directly with the bridge and crew—and there she found a satellite phone. Charged and waiting...
Just for me.
She snatched it out of its charging station, along with a different walkie-talkie than she’d found on Trent. Sheeyed the radio—but again, that call out could be detected if someone monitored the frequencies. They would hear her unsanctioned transmission. Or maybe these guys weren’t as professional as they wanted to believe. Whatever. It was too risky. She had the satellite phone, and that would do.
Satellite phone was her best bet for getting a message to Braden.
