Jimmy egged him on the whole way.
'I've never seen anything like it! Bricks made from gold! From floor to ceiling! Claire thinks her dad put all his money in gold and hid it on the Olympic when he realized how bad the plague was! That's why he was so miserable when he lost contact with his fleet! But now it's all ours! We'll be the richest pirates on the high seas!'
Pedroza thumped him hard in the back with the butt of his gun. 'I'm not a pirate! And shut up!'
'Sorry! Sorry! But you should see it! It's incredible! It's . . .'
Completely made up.
Their plan was based on their assumption that:
a) Pedroza would completely fall for their story, and rush up to see the gold for himself.
b) Claire had the ability to jump out from behind the door and stab him with a syringe.
They had both seen Dr Hill administer a certain drug to plague sufferers in the Titanic's hospital. They'd been thrashing about in agony one minute, and fast asleep the next. It was a simple matter of breaking into the Olympics medical supplies room and identifying the correct drug. Jimmy, being a good reporter, had previously noted its name.
They thought it was better that Jimmy, rather than Claire, lure Pedroza into the trap. Or, to put it another way, Claire refused to go, on the grounds that Pedroza might elect to hurl her overboard on the way up. The fact that he might do the same to Jimmy did not seem to unduly worry her.
Jimmy, having had experience with Mamma Joss's medicine, filled up a test syringe then showed Claire how to inject it, using an over-ripe orange they found in the doctor's office. Claire was a little bit hesitant at first, barely pricking the skin and looking away squeamishly. Jimmy showed her again. Her next effort was little better.
'Claire,' Jimmy said finally, 'it's an orange. You can't hurt it.'
'I know that. It's just . . .' She made a face.
'Forget it's an orange. It's Pedroza. If you don't get this into him, he will kill you, and, more importantly — me. Now do it again. Stab him. Stab Pedroza.'
Claire held the syringe tightly, with her thumb over the plunger, raised it, then brought it back down with such force that the orange collapsed flat down on the desk, spraying juice across the room.
'I think you've killed it,' said Jimmy. 'You're officially lethal against fruits. Now let's try the real thing.'
They chose a windowless store room on the fourth level. Jimmy removed three light bulbs so that Pedroza would not immediately realize that the shelves were filled with bed linen as opposed to gold. Claire, meanwhile, had tracked down the Olympic's own newspaper office and found a camera.
Their plan was this:
1. Jimmy warns Claire that he's about to arrive with Pedroza by talking loudly and generally making a racket.
2. Jimmy opens door, pretends to feel for light switch.
3. Pedroza enters darkened room.
4. Claire sets off camera flash, temporarily blinding Pedroza.
5. Jimmy trips him up.
6. Claire plunges syringe into Pedroza.
7. They flee room, lock door, allow 30 seconds for drug to work.
8. Re-enter room, find Pedroza asleep, remove his gun, lock room.
9. Return to fuel depot, hold gun on Dolphin Arm, disarm.
10. Return to Titanic, disarm mutineers.
11. Live happily ever after.
It was a good plan. All good plans remain good plans up until the point where they don't work, and then they suddenly look like bad plans. All good plans usually work up until the point where you add humans, at which point the difference between complete success and utter catastrophe is a very small one.
You cannot blame what happened on the plan, or on Jimmy's or Claire's or even Pedroza's part in it.
If any plan went like clockwork, it was this one.
Jimmy hurried along the corridor in front of Pedroza. As he approached the door he clapped his hands happily together and waved the mutineer forward. 'In here! In here! You should see it! It's fantastic! Gold! Gold! Gold!'
Jimmy pulled the door open and stepped inside. 'I'll get the lights . . .'
Pedroza stepped into the room.
Claire set off the flash.
Pedroza automatically closed his eyes . . . but too late! He was blinded!
Jimmy kicked at the back of his legs, causing him to fall forward.
They jumped on him as he tried to get up, forcing him down again.
Claire rammed the syringe into his leg and pressed the plunger down flat, forcing its entire contents into his body.
They leaped off him, charged out of the door, slammed it shut behind them and locked it before collapsing down.
'We did it,' said Jimmy, breathing hard.
'We did it!'
They were just in the act of giving each other high fives when the door was suddenly thumped, causing them both to jump. The handle was rattled. Then again — but with slightly less power. Then for a third time, weaker still.
They held their breath.
Finally . . . complete . . . silence.
'We have done it . . .'Jimmy whispered.
'We really have . . .'
'How long should we give it?'
'It took half a minute in the hospital — and we probably gave him three times the dose.'
'But still. . .'
'I know . . .'
'Three minutes then . . .'
'Five . . .'
'To be safe.'
It was probably the longest five minutes of their lives. The Olympic was rolling beneath them, making them feel queasy, but they were determined to let nothing spoil their moment of triumph. They had outwitted and overthrown Pedroza, and they were going to enjoy every moment of it. No throwing up over the side of the ship for them. They were conquering heroes. They would fling open the door of the storage room and sweep in to retrieve Pedroza's gun. They would shake their heads over the fallen pirate and say, 'Let that be a lesson to you, evildoer.'
When the five minutes were up, Claire said, 'You first.'
'Ladies first,' said Jimmy.
'Age before beauty,' said Claire.
They smiled at each other.
'Together,' they said together.
Jimmy turned the lock. They both gripped the door handle. They silently counted off one-two-three and pulled open the door.
Pedroza stood in front of them, his gun raised and pointing, the syringe still sticking out of his leg. 'Get in here now!' he growled.
'Oh crap! murmured Jimmy.
36
Death
Pedroza made them stand against the back wall of the storage room.
'No gold,' he said.
'No gold,' agreed Jimmy.
Claire just looked at him. Her bottom lip quivered.
'Plenty of bedding,' said Pedroza, nodding at the shelves.' Useful for muffling the sound of a gun.' Jimmy swallowed. 'You think you're very clever, don't you? Your great plan! Jab me with a needle, kill me, eh?'
'No,' said Jimmy, 'just put you to sleep.'
'So you say. Yet for some reason, the drugs don't work. Why do you think?'
'I don't know,' said Jimmy.
Pedroza reached down and plucked the syringe out of his left leg, then hurled it suddenly towards them. Claire let out a scream as it embedded itself in the wall just by her left ear.
Pedroza laughed. 'I'll show you.' He closed his free hand into a fist and punched himself in the leg. It sounded — hard, yet hollow. 'This leg is wooden. Lost it when I was a boy.' He moved to the other leg and kcnocked it as well. He pulled his trousers up a fraction to show a couple of centimetres of swarthy skin. 'This leg is flesh and bone. You picked the wrong leg, little children. So now I must kill you.'