Kate threw up her hands. “They're not willing to compensate you, Mister—”
“Jones. Henry Jones.”
“Right, Mister Jones. And here I thought you were Mister Dutch. How silly of me.”
“That's a nickname,” he said. “You know, like a pseudonym.”
Kate blinked.
“You know, so people don't know who I am,” he said with perfect lucidity.
“I can't tell you how much. The offer is for Mister Trenton.”
“How much?” AJ asked.
She turned to the desk. “Maybe we should speak in private.”
“Nah. How much?”
She looked at Greg Marten, who only shrugged.
When AJ asked again, she told him.
Dutch whistled. “That's pretty good, boss.”
“I'll take it,” AJ said. “But I want the same for Dutch. He's coming with us.”
“I can't authorize that!”
“Geez, lady. No need to shout.”
Kate rubbed her eyes. “Look. I can't authorize what I don't own. I'm not some top level CEO, here. I'm just a grunt, like you. I'm just doing my job, and here you are—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Dutch said. “I'm not a grunt, AJ. Are you a grunt?” He looked back to Kate. “I don't think we're grunts.”
“Whatever it is that you are,” she said, speaking over him, “you're not authorized to allocate funds for the mine. I'm not authorized to allocate funds from your former employer.”
Dutch pointed to his companion. “His former employer.”
Kate took the paperwork from out of her hand bag and slammed it onto the desk. The noise made all three men jump. Dutch actually looked scared. Had he really been holding a gun a few minutes ago? She thought right now she could reach out and take it from him like a mother confiscating a toy. She was half tempted to do it.
“This is the contract and liability form. They told me the job was only for Mister Trenton, but seeing as this is my call, I guess I can put up with Mister Jones for the duration. But let me make this clear: there will be no second payment. What you do with the money after it's yours is none of my business. So if you want to split it, I suggest you do it then. Now you can fucking take it, or you can fucking leave it.”
“All right, all right,” AJ said. “No need to get ugly, lady.”
“McCreedy. Kate McCreedy is my name.” She pointed a finger at him as she said it. She felt absurd doing it, just letting it hang out in front of him, but she thought it got the point across.
AJ looked at her finger a moment, then grabbed it with his free hand and shook it. “Pleased to meet you, Kate.”
She yanked her hand back. “Let's stick to 'Ms. McCreedy' for now, okay?”
“Sure,” he said, signing the paper.
“And I guess it's nice to meet you too, Angus.”
Dutch sputtered a laugh. When everybody looked at him, he looked confused. “What? Who?”
“I'm afraid we don't have much time,” Kate said. “I can give you half an hour to get your things together and get your replacements down here, but not much more than that. We've already wasted too much time.”
AJ stood up. “I'll make the call. Stanski and Richards can cover for us if it's only going to be a day.”
Kate couldn't get out of there fast enough, and when AJ picked up the phone, she took it as an excuse to head outside. It was hot, and the wind had picked up, blowing brown dust through the air in translucent waves. Her head still hurt, but one thing was going right: the first part of this was over. She was already tired, and the thought of putting up with the two chuckleheads in the trailer for the rest of the day made her head spin. She'd done her job though, and Michael would be happy. That, at least, was a pleasing thought. With her stake in VO, she wasn't going anywhere even if she failed, but it was nice to succeed anyway. It was nice to make friends, especially friends like—
The door to the trailer clanged open, and Dutch took two steps into the sun. He swiveled his head, finding Kate by the side wall. He frowned.
“Wait. Seriously,” he said. “Is his real name Angus?”
Chapter 4: On The Adalgisa
1
The young man led them down the catwalk, gesturing as he went. “Down here is the first mate's quarters. Over there is the kitchen. We eat five at a time, in shifts. The trapdoor is there in the corner.” He grabbed the handle and lifted, revealing a ladder. “Creates a hell of a mess when someone comes up during breakfast, but there's another one out on the main deck. Can't use it in heavy weather, though. After you.”
Dominik looked at Zofia. “Can you climb honey?”
She nodded, her thumb still in her mouth. She hadn't given it up since Maggie left.
At the bottom, they found themselves in a hallway with metal walls. Heat emanated from a room ahead, and Dominik quickly found out why. As they walked past, he saw a boy shoveling black dust into an enormous oven.
“That's Gerard,” Karl affirmed. “All that smoke makes him slow in the head, so he doesn't talk much.”
Gerard nodded, grinning at the four of them. Karl kept moving, leading his guests down to the crew's quarters. The men inside were sleeping, playing cards, writing letters. Two of them were even smoking in the corner, clogging the whole room with the stench. Nobody else seemed to notice, but it made Zofia cough. Dominik picked her up and tucked her head into his shoulder.
He saw bananas hanging in clumps, wire bags of peaches and other fruits dangling from hooks. A few sausages hung in one corner, attracting flies. Clothes and other items were also suspended near the beds, the men trying to take up as little space as possible.
“The crew sleeps here, obviously,” the man named Karl said. “Everybody to one room. The hammocks allow everyone their own bed, and that's a good thing. I don't know about you, but I don't abide sleeping in someone else's stink.” He pointed to a pill-shaped metal door that looked sealed with a crank handle. “This leads to the inside of the hull in case we need to make repairs or someone needs to adjust the spring damper for the harpoon. And these,” he said, leading them to two final doors, “are our pantries.” He cracked one of them, revealing a stack of boxes and food goods that looked ready to topple out. He shut it quickly and opened the other door, this time swinging it full. There were no goods inside; where Dominik expected boxes, he saw only a man.
The prisoner stood as the door opened, his overlong hair bouncing backwards. His clothes looked ruffled and dirty, but Dominik thought he must be some kind of intellectual. With his wild hair and glasses, it was the only mold that fit.
“Ari,” the man said, extending a hand. “Ari Quintus.”
Dominik shook it.
“Who are these lovely young ladies?”
“I'm Lucja.”
“Zol-fill-a,” Zofia said with her thumb in her mouth.
“Home, sweet home,” Karl said. “There's no room for a bed, but we got some straw you can share.”
Dominik looked past Ari and surveyed the small space with horror. It was no bigger than the other pantry, with a low ceiling and no windows. There was a straw mat in one corner and a suspicious-looking bucket in the other. Karl couldn't possibly mean for them to stay here.
“Life aboard a ship isn't easy,” the young man said. “We all have it pretty hard. You may have it a little harder than most, but you'll live.”
Dominik couldn't help but think he sounded rather chipper about the whole thing. “You can't be serious.”
At that moment, Lieutenant Dietrich came strutting purposefully towards the pantry. His hands were behind his back, his uniform re-creased in the hour since Dominik had seen him last. How he had managed to do such a thing on a moving ship, Dominik didn't know. Karl took his cue and bowed out. Friendly or not, this was none of his business.