The sound of engines reversing and Russian cursing provided an overture to Tom’s loud “Sure am sorry to hold you folks up, but I seem to have a bit of engine trouble.” More shouts and threats erupted from the Russians. I cringed, anticipating gunfire. I saw the top of the fake Shadow’s mast rounding the breakwater. I radioed again to bait the Russians and let Tom know where Sinem and Erdem were. The cousins went nuclear. One of them hurled a bottle at Tom, who ducked to avoid it. At the last possible moment before being rammed, Tom got his engine started and slowly pulled far enough out of the way to let the catamaran pass. Its engines roared to maximum RPM and it accelerated toward the breakwater.
I started the engine on SPLASH-DOWN. I could hardly breathe while Omar threw the lines on deck and started to shove the bow from the seawall. Shit, I was actually leaving without Anna! My face burned. I could barely see through a storm of my own damn tears. I forced myself to concentrate on the bow, now swinging into unobstructed water.
Then whump! The shock nearly buckled my knees. Anna slid on the cockpit floor, having just taken a flying leap from the seawall. She stayed down. Hurt? I caught a glimpse of Omar, hands clasped above his head, smiling.
“Go! Just go. Don’t stop now.” Anna said from the floor between the cockpit benches. If we’re going to die we’ll do it together.”
I barely had the strength to push the throttle forward, or maneuver down the fairway. My mind was reeled, my heart pounded. I worried about being sick. I watched Tom take up pursuit of the catamaran using a floodlight to blind anyone who tried to look back or to pass him. Trying not to sound scared, I took a crack at a funny accent and broadcast, “Sierra victor Shadow, this is motor launch Banzai with traffic on your stern.” It was Sinem’s signal to kill all the lights on the false Shadow and run full throttle toward the boats out on the bay for evening cruises.
Without any lights and at dead slow, I eased us out of the marina toward the black center of the huge bay. Increasing our speed, putting more distance between us and the lights of Marmaris, we became less visible. Anna got off the floor and took up a position at the stern. She stood, statue like, white knuckling some standing rigging while staring back at the receding town we’d called home for the last couple of months. Glistening tears fell from her cheeks. She said nothing.
I was afraid to speak.
Toward shore, I saw Tom’s yacht and beyond that, the catamaran turning lazy circles, sweeping a searchlight over boats within range of its powerful beam.
Heading for the channel out of Marmaris bay, I’d pushed Shadow to full throttle. Coming in from the Mediterranean, in the opposite direction, was a fortuitous fog bank. It poured into the bay through the inlets. Soon we were completely enveloped and visibility went to zero. I throttled back somewhat while Anna kept her eyes glued to the radar screen. The opening to the Mediterranean lay dead ahead.
TWENTY-NINE
Stars appeared through breaking fog just after midnight. We’d crossed into international waters and out of any country. Anna was no longer illegal. Still, she faced instant arrest if we tried to land anywhere. For better or for worse, with Anna aboard we were committed to a long sea voyage. With only twelve nautical miles behind and at least ten thousand to go, any anticipation of adventure I might have had was, by then, well and truly quashed. It was pitch dark, wet and cold. Waves we’d experienced maybe once or twice in training were only a baseline in open water. The first queasy hints of seasickness were coming on fast.
Not only that, but exhaustion. I shook my head to keep from falling asleep on my feet and stared into our fizzing wake. Decided, talking might help. “That catamaran can go a lot faster than us. This might not be over.”
Anna looked at me but didn’t respond.
I was thinking of turning the yacht toward Rhodes Island, into Greek waters, where we’d at least not be the only radar target around. Visions of running Shadow aground and making a break for it were mysteriously attractive. I imagined that catamaran coming out of the darkness, both engines roaring.
Following her disappearing act, I wasn’t sure of Anna’s motivations anymore. Would she run from mama and the cousins or run to them? “Why did you take off like that?” I asked. I couldn’t stand the silence between us.
“I’m sorry to take off. The pictures, they made me sick. What she did to us makes me sick. I couldn’t speak to anybody about it. I needed to be alone, to think it over.”
“But, you left me the package with your mother’s letter.”
“Of course, I knew you didn’t do it. That’s why I left it there for you. The letter was so you would know what she had written to me, what she was saying about you.”
“Hell, Anna, I could’ve left without you. In fact, I did leave without you.”
“Sorry, I didn’t know what to do.”
“I guess I would have stopped there,” I nodded toward lights on the shore of Rhodes Island, “and come back looking for you.” Lights on a forbidden shore look so good.
Anna shook her head very slowly. “That would have been such a disaster. I just needed to be alone without a bunch of people around me. I knew they couldn’t help and I didn’t want to… I could not share my thoughts with them.”
“Where did you go?”
“I bought some pastry and went to the top of the hill, the one beside the castle, and sat there looking at the bay. It seemed so huge to me, so dark, so uninviting.”
“Jesus Murphy, I thought you’d gone to your mother or your cousins. Then again, maybe you did.”
“No! I didn’t want to see her, are you kidding. After what she’s done to me. It did seem appealing to tell her what I think of her, but it wouldn’t solve anything and it sure wouldn’t change her mind. And I don’t want to see my cousins either! I had never had any common ground with them and by now I know the nice little reunion with them would be a trap. How stupid do they think I am? I wrote a letter to Mother instead and gave it to the guard, the one who feeds the fish. He’ll pass it on to Anton and Victor tomorrow. So that’s my goodbye to them.”
“Wow, that’s bold, what did you write in the letter?”
“You probably can guess. I told her that she doesn’t leave me any choice but to run. That she is a nasty woman and that I don’t believe she attacked me because she wants to help me.”
“You really told her she’s a nasty woman? Not very Russian-like to express feelings like that, is it?”
“No, it isn’t. But why not? If somebody is a bad person, even though she is your mother, why not to tell her this? Why should I spare her feelings if she hurts me? Besides, in the end openness like this solves many problems. You’ve told me this, yourself. I need to have this freedom to assess her actions and to tell her what I think of them. Just because I am her child doesn’t make me her speechless slave!”
“I imagine she would have one hell of a time with you back home, in Nizhny Novgorod, considering the way you look and behave now.”
“That’s for sure. I myself wonder what she would do to me if they succeeded with my kidnapping. She would definitely have to isolate me somehow. I wouldn’t be the proper daughter anymore. Nothing to brag about — not married, no makeup, free-spoken.”