The waves were very strong, but he was just at the edge of the tidal race into the cavern, so he was able to swim out past the rocks and around toward the west.
Behind him, above on the path, the remaining soldiers scrambled the rest of the way past the overhang and headed back into the cavern.
The surf was very bad. In the troughs Carter could manage a couple of strokes, but then the breaker would bury him, tumbling him end over end toward the shore.
He was just coming ashore beyond the rocks when a tremendous explosion lifted the front of the rock cliffs away from the hill.
A split second later, a second, much larger explosion lit up the sky, blowing out more of the cliff face.
Carter staggered ashore on the beach, rocks and smoke and flames still shooting out of the vast opening in the hillside to the east.
It had been felt all over the island, and probably had been seen and heard on Hiva Faui. Everyone would know what had happened here.
Carter tore off the wet suit top as he hurried away from the surf pounding the beach, then headed west the last mile or so to where the Starfish was scheduled to pick them up.
It was no longer raining, but the wind was strong, and the sky was still overcast. He had no trouble finding the rendezvous spot. It was near where he had found the outrigger canoe the previous night.
Carter was standing on the beach looking out to sea when he saw a flash of light well offshore to the west.
It was most likely the Starfish. But she was much too far to the west…
Seconds later he saw another flash, this time even farther west and definitely farther out to sea.
Captain Petti had warned them that if the Chinese sub came back, he would have to stand off.
Carter watched for another five minutes, but there was nothing. Once again he was stranded on Natu Faui.
Thirteen
Nick Carter turned away from the ocean and looked up the beach in both directions. The outrigger canoes that had been tied up just off the beach were gone now. It was very possible, he thought, that the natives had gone on another raid of the satellite receiving station. Either that or they had hidden their boats after the one had turned up missing last night.
It was very early in the afternoon, but Carter felt a sense of detachment. He had not had much rest in the past forty-eight hours. But he could not quit now.
The base here on Natu Faui was destroyed. The Starfish would probably play cat and mouse with the sub for a day or so, and then the Chinese boat would be ordered back home.
Which left only Governor Albert Rondine and his setup on these islands.
The man was probably working for the Chinese. At least Carter figured he was. But what was his motivation? Simple greed'.
Whatever it was, the man held the power of life and death over these people. He was also the apparent master of the Chinese peasants living on Hiva Faui.
Finally there was Gabrielle. Carter could not get her out of his mind. What they had had together, however brief it was, had been wonderful. He wanted to hear from her own lips that everything she had told him was a lie.
He headed up the beach toward the west, his stride long and steady. There was a possibility, he figured, however slight, that the Starfish had left even before the shore party had gotten aboard. It would mean the patrol would probably be in the vicinity of the beach down from the volcano. The area was several miles to the west. He wanted to see if they were still there. If not, he would find another outrigger and make the trip back to Hiva Faui one more time.
For a time, as he walked, he thought about all the strange things that had happened so far on this assignment. Most of all of his misjudgments. Fenster, whom he was certain was somehow involved in all of this, apparently was innocent. Gabrielle he had misjudged from the beginning. He wondered if he was misjudging her situation still.
The beach curved in toward the south, the jungle coming right down to the water. He had to wade through the gentle waves, the water protected here by the outcropping of land, to get to the other side.
Across the lagoon a small boat was washed up on the beach. There were several figures lying in the sand beside it.
Carter remained where he was for several long seconds, scanning the line of the beach and the jungle to the far point of land.
There was no movement. Nothing lived across the lagoon.
He splashed through the hip-deep water around the last of the vegetation, and then he was running down the beach, his Luger in hand.
As he got closer he could see that there definitely had been a fight between the shore patrol and the natives. The boat on the beach was one of the sixteen-man inflatables. It had been punctured several times by arrows and was partially deflated.
He reached the first of the bodies. He turned it over. It was one of the young crewmen. He had not died of arrow wounds, however. He had been shot with a rifle at least four times. Twice in the chest, once in the throat, and once just below his nose, destroying most of his upper lip.
There were four of them. All had died of gunshot wounds. Carter straightened up and looked inland.
The shore party had come here, had been attacked by the natives, but had nevertheless managed to get off the beach.
Four of them had survived to make it back to the boat. Here they had been cut down by the Chinese patrol. It meant there were still Communist soldiers on the island.
Each of the crewmen carried an M-16 automatic rifle with a stainless steel wire stock and plastic grips.
Carter took one of the weapons, then gathered the ammunition from all four bodies, coming up with a total of five clips of forty rounds each.
He pulled the arrows out of the inflatable and found the pump and repair kit in one of the compartments. The fuel tank and the large outboard motor did not seem to be damaged.
Within a half hour he had repaired the half-dozen punctures and had inflated the three compartments that had been damaged.
The boat was seaworthy again. It would get him back to Hiva Faui a lot faster than an outrigger.
In some of the other compartments were supplies of canned water, some rations, and other equipment. There was even a pair of aluminum paddles with extension handles in case the motor did not work. He could get back to Hiva Faui no matter what.
Slowly he manhandled the heavy raft around so that it was facing outward toward the sea. Then he stopped, straightened up, and looked back toward the volcano rising up into the overcast sky.
The shore party had landed here, and the men had pushed their way inland. Their orders: destroy the dish antenna and projection equipment at the native meeting place Carter had described.
Four of them were dead here on the beach. How about the others? Where were they? Were all of them dead?
Captain Petti said he would be sending an officer, a chief petty officer, and twelve crewmen. It was all he could spare. There were four crewmen here. That left the officer, the petty officer, and eight crewmen.
No way, Carter thought, I can't leave without finding out what happened to them.
He shoved the extra ammunition clips into his waistband and headed up the beach onto the trail presumably blazed by the Starfish patrol.
A hundred yards inland the petty officer lay on his side with an arrow through his neck, a huge amount of blood beside him. His nametag said Jones.
A half mile farther, two more of the crewmen lay dead, their bodies penetrated by arrows. Here it looked as if the patrol had been attacked and had made a stand, apparently driving off their attackers. Ahead and on either side of the trail were at least two dozen bodies of natives.