The Patriot Threat (Cotton Malone 10) - Page 35

He activated DROP and the lifeboat lowered quickly.

The moment the keel struck the turbulent water he flicked RELEASE, and they were free of the ferry.

Hana laid the woman on one of the shiny, high-backed benches. The interior was roomy, able to hold maybe twenty or more people. He watched as Hana pressed a button and the engines fired. She then threw open the throttle and spun the wheel.

And they were away.

* * *

Malone sprang to his feet and motioned for Howell to come, too. No way that a fire alarm had just happened to go off. The entire ferry shuddered as the screws changed tempo and reversed. Raised voices came from some of the crew who ordered everyone to stay calm. He made his way outside. One of the deckhands rushed by and he asked in Italian, “What’s happening?”

“Fire below.”

“Jelena,” Howell muttered.

He agreed. This most likely involved her. Then he noticed something aft. One of the lifeboats was dropping on its winch lines to the water. No command to abandon the ship had been given. He raced that way and arrived just as the boat freed itself and motored away. Its side hatch lay open and a face appeared, just for an instant, before an arm reached out and closed the portal.

Kim Yong Jin.

“I thought you told me there was nowhere for him to go,” Howell said.

“I was wrong.”

His eyes studied the remaining lifeboats. Why not? Worked once.

Howell seemed to read his mind. “Not without Jelena. I’m not leaving her.”

He was not in the mood. “You can either come the easy way or come the hard way.”

And he meant it. He’d beat this man unconscious and throw him on the boat if he had to. Howell seemed to sense there was no choice and nodded.

He pushed the younger man ahead of him and they rushed to a panel that controlled another of the lifeboats. Smoke had begun to bellow from the bow of the ship. People rushed back and forth, panicked at the threatening sight. A uniformed crew member appeared and yelled in Italian for him to get away from the controls. He ignored the command and lowered the boat to deck level, motioning for Howell to hop inside. The crew member pushed his way through the crowd and wrapped an arm around Malone’s neck, yanking him back.

He had no time for this, and jabbed an elbow into his attacker’s ribs.

Once. Twice.

The neck hold released.

He spun and slammed his right fist into the crewman’s jaw, sending the man to the deck. A few of the passengers bent down to help. He used that moment to hop into the lifeboat and slam the hatch shut, locking it from the inside. He found the interior controls and hit the DROP button.

They fell fast and settled in the pitching surf.

He released the winch lines and started the engines.

* * *

Isabella exited the taxi, while Luke Daniels paid the driver. They’d made the short trip along traffic-clogged streets in just under twenty minutes. Their travel bags, along with Malone’s, had been left in lockers at the airport. They’d worry about them later. Right now, that ferry was their primary concern.

Zadar seemed a study in contrast. The suburbs were more modern with industrial parks and commercial zones, the old town filled with churches, monuments, and Roman ruins. Its historical center, a matrix of red-tiled low-slung buildings surrounded by thick stone walls, occupied a rectangular-shaped peninsula about three miles long and a mile wide, which jutted into the bay. A causeway connected it to the mainland. On the landing approach to the airport she’d noticed that the harbor was sheltered from the open sea by a series of islands, arranged in rows parallel to the coastline. The crenulated outlines of deep coves and inlets marred their shores. They stood outside the old town walls, at the peninsula’s tip, where ships docked. That storm she’d feared had arrived, a cold, gray murk enveloping. The bare limbs of nearby trees shivered in a stiff breeze. Out in the bay, a mile or so away, she spotted the ferry and heard a siren.

“That’s an alarm,” Daniels said.

Smoke seeped from the ship’s forward section, quickly seized by the wind. Something was wrong. They spotted a lifeboat drop to the water and motor off.

“I’ll give you two-to-one odds who’s in that boat,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“My bet is that’s Kim’s escape. He had to get the hell off that thing before it docked.”

“How did he manage to steal a boat? That should not have been possible.”

“Are you that naïve? Or just stupid? It’s everybody for themselves out here. You do what you gotta do.”

“I don’t work that way. Never have. Never will.”

He shook his head in seeming disgust.

Another

lifeboat dropped to the water.

“And I know who stole that one,” Daniels said.

He found his cell phone and dialed.

Wind swirled the misty rain across the bay like ghosts. Cold stung her face. They should find shelter, but Luke Daniels did not move, his attention locked on the two orange boats as they distanced themselves from the ferry, headed north, away from town. When the call was answered she could hear thanks to Daniels activating the speaker.

“Pappy, is that you in one of those boats?”

“It’s me. Kim’s ahead of us.”

“We’re on shore,” Daniels said. “At the dock. I got Wonder Woman here with me.”

She resented his condescending attitude and the insult she knew some of her co-workers at Treasury used for her.

“Kim’s got the documents,” Malone said. “We can’t let him get away. There’s an original in there we have to get back.”

She caught the significance of what Malone had managed to learn, which amplified her containment problem.

“I may not be able to catch up to him,” Malone said. “These tubs are not rigged for speed. Can you pace him from dry land?”

Daniels’ gaze drifted from the dancing waves to the shoreline on their right, which ran in a jagged course northward where buildings and pinewoods strung close. A sheltered marina was visible, maybe two miles away.

But she saw it, too.

A highway rimmed the coast for as far she could see, sandy beaches between it and the water.

“I got it, Pappy. We’ll be right with you.”

THIRTY-FIVE

VIRGINIA

Stephanie drove the car away from Ed Tipton’s house. As requested, they’d shut off the house lights and locked the front door behind them. Danny had borrowed $20 from her and tucked it beneath Tipton’s phone to compensate for the overseas calls. She’d thought it strange, but typical. He didn’t like to owe anyone.

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