He then carefully descended the large chain links until he reached the bomb.
It was only comprised of two sticks of dynamite with a simple internal timer. Someone from his unit probably could have disarmed it without thinking twice. Unfortunately, he knew nothing about bombs.
He grasped it in his right hand and pulled gently.
It separated from the wall easily enough, and since he was still alive, Tom thought that he was doing well so far.
Although he didn’t know much about the bomb itself, he’d seen enough explosives during his time in the Corps to know that people didn’t usually rig these with long timers.
He carried it to the top of the stairs and affixed it to the hatchway door.
If it detonates before I get out of here, it’s going to create my escape route…
Tom returned to the bottom of the stairs and started banging against the steel dividing wall, which made up part of the ship's watertight safety compartments. It was foolish to think that such a sound might be heard above the sound of the cyclone, but it didn’t stop him from trying.
He found a fire extinguisher and used it to ram the side of the steel plate.
After banging away for ten minutes, Tom took a break, followed by another ten minutes of banging. At the end of his fifth attempt, the resonance of his banging was much louder than it had been at the start.
At first, he didn’t realize its origin; his ears still ringing and his head throbbing.
When he looked up, he realized that above him a ten foot hole could be seen where the hatchway had been.
He’d found his exit.
If only there was enough time left to save the Hayward Bulk.
It took half a mile and fourteen flights of stairs for Tom to reach the bridge, which was located at the very back of the boat, and raised high up off the deck.
“Captain Ambrose?” Tom greeted the man, whose white beard and captain’s hat would easily identify him as the very image of any sea captain anywhere in the world.
“Yes,” he acknowledged, his eyes looking Tom up and down, “and you must be Mr. Bower, the pilot off the Maria Helena?”
“That’s me, and we have a serious problem.”
“We sure do, son. It appears that despite your valiant efforts, we’re going to hit that reef and tear the hull of my ship open as if it was a sardine can.”
“We’ll get to that in a second.” Tom paused, he had no idea how close they were to the reef. “One of the engineers who I transported on to this ship, a Mr. Malcolm Ford, is not who he says he is. I caught him planting a bomb at the front of the ship, and now I have no idea where he is.”
“Christ, my day just gets better and better.” The captain looked confused. “But why would anyone want to destroy my ship?”
“Most likely because of your payload and the catastrophic repercussions of its possible spill in these waters. It will be the worst terrorist attacks in history!”
“Are you kidding me?” The captain laughed. “Our payload is going to go straight to the bottom. The only harm it will do is to any fish who are unfortunate enough to be swimming underneath us when we sink. Nothing else will come of it.”
“But, I was told you were carrying a load of uranium?”
“What, through the Torres Straits? Are you nuts? Jim Reilly would never allow it — not that he’d complain about the environmental risk, but if he were caught carrying uranium, the EPA would fine him so much that even he would never afford to sail a ship in these waters again.”
“Then what are you carrying?” Tom asked.
“Coal.”
“Just coal? Anything else? Why would James Reilly request all this support and risk all of our lives if you’re only carrying coal? What else would someone be after?”
The captain opened a special shipping manifest and noted an entry dated two weeks ago. “Jim Reilly was aboard just before we left Japan. He accessed his private vault.”
“He has a private vault?”
“Sure does. It’s rumored that he has a private suite on all of his supertankers, but this is the only one with a private vault.”
“Really?” Tom couldn’t imagine why James Reilly would need that. “What does he keep in it?”
“I have no idea, I’ve never known. I do know that it’s not drugs — I know that much for sure. We’ve had many drug-sniffing dogs come on board at some of the ports we dock at, and I’ve never seen a single one of them stop and alert at his vault.”
“How often does he access his vault?”
“Not very often, perhaps a couple of times a year.” The Captain’s eyes widened. “Whatever it is, we can safely assume that it’s quiet valuable.”
“Why do you say that?”
“It generally comes to us via a number of a private security vans. You know, the kind they use to transport gold and money around for banks. Only, Jimmy’s different, he likes to use a number of them. Each one is armored to the hilt. They all crisscross their routes, so that any would-be pursuers are at a loss as to which van holds his valuables. In the end, there are usually three vehicles that enter the hull. When this happens, the old man is always on site. He says that he doesn’t trust anyone, and he has used that specific team for years. He then locks it away and he may or may not retrieve it for months or even years later.”
“And you’ve never found out what it was?”
“No, never. What Jimmy doesn’t want you to know, you simply don’t ask.”
“So then, once he locks whatever it is in his safe, who keeps it secure?”
“No one. Like I said, ‘It’s secured in his private vault.”’
“What’s to stop someone from boarding the ship and breaking into it?”
“The vault can only be accessed from the outside, along the waterline when the ship is empty. Then, when the ship is loaded, the entrance is well below the waterline, making it next to impossible to access when the ship is moving.”
“What about a submarine or divers?” Tom asked.
“Impossible.”
“Why?”
“The Hayward Bulk is a 500,000 ton super tanker. Do you have any idea what sort of pressure is created near the hull of this ship when it’s moving?”
Tom nodded his head. He had a fair idea where the Captain was going with this.
“Anything that comes close to the ship would be pulled into her wake and destroyed in a matter of seconds.”
“I get it.”
He really didn’t, though. Tom had known James Reilly for years and other than being well past suffering with megalomania, the man had always seemed quite pragmatic.
Why would he transfer something so valuable this way? He could easily afford to transport it by plane, or some other secure method. If it was illegal, what could possibly be so rewarding that he would risk everything he already has?
Tom already had an answer to his own question — more money.
“What if the ship were to sink?”
“We have state-of-the-art lifeboat aboard. We’ll evacuate well before the Hayward Bulk reaches the reef, and you’ll find that we’ll be quite safe.”
“No, I’m sorry,” Tom paused. “What I mean is… from what you’ve described, whatever it is that James Reilly is transporting, it is worth more than your ship, and we all know that even the best crew and ship can’t stay afloat indefinitely without risk. So, what happens to his prized possessions?”
“They would still be quite safe.”
“Even if the ship sinks?”
“Yes. You see Tom, when Jimmy had his private vault built, he did so in such a way that no one could break into it, even with a bomb. Structurally, if the Hayward Bulk sank to the ocean floor and was completely destroyed, his private vault would still be left safe at the sea bottom. Then, if and when he locates his precious ship, the contents of the vault could be retrieved using a diving hatch, which was designed with an air tight compartment. You know, the kind they use in submarines?”