“I’m Lara.”
“I know, ma’am.”
“You can stop calling me ma’am. I’m not that old.”
“Sorry, ma — Lara.”
“Better,” she said, then nodded up the hallway. “We’re going to lead them upside and to the boat, okay, Jolly?”
“Gotcha, Lara.”
“Good,” she said. “Let’s go.”
“They might have called for help. Given us away,” Riley had said.
Lara thought it was a pretty good bet the missing crewmen had done exactly both those things. Why else would they go through the effort of using the comm room? They would know it was empty, with Terry and the others already onboard the Trident.
So the question was: Who did they call for help and give Riley’s plans away to?
The only thing that kept her from panicking even just a little was the knowledge that they weren’t going to be here to wait and find out. She felt a flush of pride at having convinced Hart to start moving his people over to the Trident sooner than he had expected. Not that Hart had really put up much resistance. She hated to admit it, but the older man was somewhat of a pushover.
They made it to the top platform without any problems, even though Lara kept expecting Ezekiel and Lang to pop out from behind every corner they approached. Judging by his awkward steps and bunched shoulders, so did Jolly, who seemed to be alternating between moving beside her and just slightly ahead of her. The young man was, she realized after a while, purposefully making sure he was always first to reach the potentially dangerous points so she wouldn’t have to.
Who says chivalry is dead? she thought, smiling to herself.
They made slow but steady progress, with Hart and Phil trailing behind with Riley between them. She didn’t rush them because they could afford to take their time. Sunup was still far off, and Faith was waiting on the docks below. Two more men were standing guard when they emerged out of the submarine door at the top of the entrance, and the suddenly bigger party moved through the windy top deck.
As well as things were going, Lara kept waiting for the gunshots that never came. Wherever Ezekiel and Lang had escaped to, all signs were pointing to the two men being determined not to reveal themselves. Which was fine with her, and frankly, more than she could have hoped for.
Glancing to her left off the platform, she could see the lights of the Trident standing out against the suffocating blackness of the ocean, still maintaining its safe distance from them.
Lara unclipped her radio and keyed it. “Maddie, we’re on our way now.”
“Roger that,” Maddie answered. “Any trouble?”
“So far, so good. We’ll see you soon.”
“Sarah’s keeping a pot of coffee hot for you.”
“You guys have coffee?” Jolly asked as they rounded a hulking piece of machinery that had conduits sticking out of its sides. Predictably, Jolly had casually hurried ahead before falling back beside her when they were safely around it.
She fought back a smile and said, “Don’t you?”
“No, ma’am. I mean, Lara.”
“The place we were at before had boxes of them. We had to leave most of it behind when we left, but fortunately we brought enough to last for a while.”
“I’d love some coffee. Black. How do you take yours?”
“Same.”
“Awesome,” Jolly said.
Awesome? Lara thought, not quite sure if she was amused because Jolly was so easily impressed or because he sounded very much like a crushing teenage boy. He reminded her a bit of how Benny was around Gaby, though taller and less awkward.
A radio squawked behind her and she heard Hart’s voice. “Status.”
“You guys are in the clear,” a male voice answered through Hart’s radio. “No one’s followed you outside.”
“All right. Chain the door and catch up to us.”
“On our way,” the voice said.
It was another “just in case” plan, though this time Riley had come up with it. If Ezekiel and Lang were indeed hiding below deck, chain-locking the main entrance would keep them pinned inside so they couldn’t come out to freely take potshots at them or the Trident. The last thing she needed right now was someone armed with a grenade launcher lobbying rounds at the yacht. It was a small chance, but she’d rather it be zero instead.
By the time Riley’s other two men caught up to them, they were already moving down the stairs at the edge of the platform. Yet another one of Riley’s men stood below them, waiting with a flashlight.
“Lara?” Jolly said as they went down.
“Yes?” she said.
“Don’t take this the wrong way…”
Oh God, I already don’t like where this is going.
“But I just wanted to say it’s cool finally meeting you,” Jolly said.
Okay, not so bad, she thought, and said, “Likewise, Jolly.”
“Anyways,” the young man continued, “I thought you might get a kick out of knowing that me and some of the other guys carry around iPods with your messages on them.”
“Oh yeah?” she said, fighting back the cringe from showing on her face.
“It’s just the same two broadcasts you put out,” Jolly said. “But — and again, don’t take this the wrong way — but sometimes I pretend you’re saying something else.”
Oh God, someone shoot me now.
“Nothing bad,” Jolly quickly added. “Just stuff like the weather and traffic reports.”
She was so relieved that she didn’t even try to fight back the short laugh. “Traffic reports?”
He grinned, pearly white teeth showing, but if he was slightly embarrassed or blushing again, she couldn’t tell in the semidarkness of the stairs. “You know, like you were doing the newscast? Just to give some variety to the messages and all. Nothing perverted or anything. I hope that’s okay.”
“That’s fine, Jolly,” she said, and made an effort to smile at him.
“Thanks,” he said, before quickly hurrying down the stairs ahead of her just before another turn came up.
“Told you,” Riley said behind her. He wasn’t even trying to suppress a chuckle. “The Lara.”
“Shut up, Riley,” she said.
They loaded Riley onboard Faith’s boat first, settling him down on the front bench, then climbed in after him. Faith powered up the engine and maneuvered them into the water, Riley’s people at the stern standing guard with weapons ready and eyes watching the Ocean Star for signs of Ezekiel and Lang.
But neither men showed up, and before long Faith made another turn and they were on an intercept course with the Trident.
When they had put enough space between them and the oil rig, Lara sat down on the bench next to Riley while Hart and the others remained standing around them. She looked back one last time at the lights blinking on the edges of the massive platform as it began succumbing to the blackness.
“How long will the lights last?” she asked.
“Until the generators run out of fuel,” Riley said. “A day, tops.”
“Communications?”
“Nothing runs without diesel, and we’re taking most of that with us.”
He was referring to the refueling ship, which at the moment was anchored on the other side of the Trident. They would bring the second vessel with them as insurance. It was going to slow them down, but speed wasn’t going to be an issue once they cleared the area, regardless of what Mercer did in response to Riley’s mutiny tomorrow. She didn’t think they would need the old boat anytime soon, but the Bengal Islands were a long way off and they had a detour or two ahead of them.