“Good news,” said Tanner. “Captain, do you have any weapons aboard?”
“What? No; no weapons. Don’t concern yourself, Mr. Tanner. I’ve taken care—”
“What?” Tanner said. “What have you done?”
“I alerted the Croatian police about our problem. They’re sending a team from Senj.”
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Nonsense! Don’t look so worried. We’ll keep an eye on your criminali, then let the Croats handle things; they are the experts, after all. I’m sure they’ll have questions for you, but—”
“Captain, you don’t understand what we’re dealing with here. If the police—”
Bartoli gave him a stern look. “Of course I understand. These men, they attacked my ship. Some of my passengers are dead, others injured. Did you think I was going to let them walk away? Of course I am going to call the authorities. Why would I not?”
Tanner realized it was too late. The Croatian police were coming; there was nothing he could do to stop it. As far as he was concerned, they could have Trpkova. Kestrel was another matter. He changed mental gears. He smiled, held up his hands in resignation. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Better to let the experts handle it. They’ll be coming to Susak?”
“Yes.”
“May I use your ship-to-shore phone? I need to call my family and let them know I’ll be a little late for dinner.”
Bartoli laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Of course! In the radio room.” He reached for the phone on the bulkhead. “I’ll call ahead and let them know to accommodate you.”
The radio operator showed Tanner how to place a call, then stepped out and shut the door. Briggs listened through two minutes of hissing clicks before getting through to the Langley Ops Center, which patched him through to Sylvia.
He brought the group up to speed, from his catching up to the Barak at Male Srakane to the present. “They’re still aboard,” he concluded. “Cahil’s with them; Trpkova must have recognized him.”
“You believe the canisters are in the briefcase?” Dutcher said.
“I do. He would have disguised them somehow before boarding, but they’re in there. It was the only piece of luggage the three of them took from their cabin.”
“We have to assume they’re armed,” Sylvia said.
“I agree.”
“How long before you reach Susak?” Dutcher asked.
“Another twenty minutes. The Croatian police should arrive shortly after that.”
“What were they told?”
“Just what I told Bartoli, I assume.”
“Hell, they can have Trpkova,” Sylvia replied. “But if Kestrel—”
“I know, I’m working on it. If I can get Bear’s attention, we may be able to pull something off. How soon can we expect transportation?”
“There’s a Blackhawk waiting on the pad at Remini as we speak,” said Dutcher. “We’ll get it airborne and headed your way. Ninety minutes, give or take.”
“Send it loaded,” Tanner replied. ‘Trpkova’s not going to give it up without a fight.”
As Tanner disconnected, the PA loudspeaker crackled to life. The Italian was rapid-fire, so he caught only snippets: “Brace for shock … crew … stations …”
Tanner sprinted down the passageway toward the bridge ladder. The deck suddenly canted beneath his feet. He stumbled, regained his balance, but was thrown forward into the bulkhead. The Aurasina had either slowed suddenly, or had struck something. He pulled himself up the ladder to the bridge.
“What happened?” Tanner called to Bartoli.
“An outer reef! It wasn’t on the charts! We’re still five hundred meters out.”
“Depth?”
“Eighteen meters!”
Almost sixty feet, Tanner thought. And a quarter mile from the beach. The distances didn’t sound menacing, but Tanner knew better. If they lost steerageway and foundered, a lot of people were going to die. Of those that didn’t reach the lifeboats before the Aurasina went under, he doubted half would make it to shore.
The deck lurched again and began trembling as the engines struggled to push the ferry forward. From outside came the first tentative screams of panic.
The phone buzzed. Bartoli grabbed it, listened for a moment, hung up. “The keel is holed. We’re taking on water.”
“Engines?
“Still on line, but we’re too heavy,” Bartoli answered.
The helmsman called, “Six knots … we’re slowing. Depth beneath the keel, fifteen meters.”
Tanner glanced at Bartoli, who shook his head. “Still too deep. The main deck is only ten meters off the surface.”
“How far to the inner reef?” Tanner asked.
“Two hundred meters.”
The helmsman called, “Three knots.”
Walking speed.
Bartoli said, “Our best chance is to ground her there. If we can at least keep the main deck above water, we should be able to last until the Croatian Navy arrives.”
Tanner nodded and extended his hand. “Good luck.”
Bartoli shook it. “And you.”
Tanner hurried aft to where he’d left Salvatori; surprisingly, he was still there. “Shouldn’t you be at your emergency station?”
“Captain’s orders — Stay here, watch the criminali.”
“You’re a good man. They’re still there?”
“Si.”
Tanner peeked over the railing, spotted Cahil and Trpkova, then pulled back.
The first rescue vessels were arriving. Off the port beam the trawlers from Hovik had slipped through the gap cut by the Aurasina’s passage through the reef and were paralleling the ferry’s course toward Susak. Crewmen stood on their decks, watching and calling out to passengers. Off the starboard quarter was a red speedboat with a young couple standing in the cockpit. They saw him, and started waving. The man waved a coil of rope, obviously offering the only help he could think of.
The loudspeaker blared to life. Tanner recognized Bartoli’s voice, but again caught only a few words. Salvatori said, “Brace for shock, signore. We’re approaching the reef.”
Tanner gripped the railing with both hands and dropped to crouch on the balls of his feet. Salvatori did the same. He offered Tanner a wan smile. “Not so much fun, eh?”
“No, not so much fun. Can you swim?”
“Not so well.”
Tanner took his hand off the railing and patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry, you won’t need it. Your capitano is a magician.”
“Si, si …”
The deck lurched forward, then back, then began trembling. The engines groaned. Black smoke belched from the stack. From the bow came a low-pitched scraping sound that quickly rose to the shriek of metal on rock. The Aurasina gave one more forward heave and went still.
Salvatori stood up, raced to the side, and looked down the hull. “We’re on the reef! I can see the bottom!”
Tanner joined him, glanced around for Cahil. At that moment — Tanner would never know why — Trpkova turned and looked up. Their eyes met. Off guard, Briggs followed his first impulse: He quickly looked away. Too fast, too fast … He could feel Trpkova’s eyes on him. Had he seen something in Tanner’s eyes, a too curious gaze, a split second of suspicious hesitation?