Cold Vengeance - Lincoln Child [122]
Leaping to his feet, Pendergast veered left and exited the port saloon door, then flattened himself against the wall next to the recessed entrance. Hidden beneath an overhang, he paused once again to listen in on the continuing radio chatter, rearranging in his mind his picture of the vessel and the shifting locations of the men on it.
“Szell. Respond!” came the voice of the man in charge. Other voices jammed the frequency, asking in a panic about the gunshots, until the German shut them up. “Szell!” the man called harshly over the radio. “Do you read?”
Pendergast thought with satisfaction that Szell was beyond all reading.
CHAPTER 70
ESTERHAZY WATCHED WITH GROWING ALARM as Falkoner spoke into his radio, “Szell. Hammar. Respond.”
Static sounded over the speakers.
“Damn it,” Esterhazy burst out, “I keep telling you, you’re underestimating him!” He slammed his hand on the bulkhead in frustration. “You’ve no idea who you’re up against! He’s going to kill them all! And then come for us!”
“We’ve got a dozen heavily armed men against one.”
“You don’t have a dozen anymore,” Esterhazy shot back.
Falkoner spat on the floor, then spoke into his headset. “Captain? Report.”
“Captain reporting, sir,” came the captain’s steady voice. “I heard some shooting in the saloon. There was a fire on one of the tenders—”
“I’m well aware of all that. What’s the status on the bridge?”
“All’s well up here. Gruber’s with me and we’re locked and barred and heavily armed. What the hell’s going on below?”
“Pendergast took out Berger and Vic Klemper. I sent Szell and Hammar to the main saloon and now I can’t raise them. Keep your eyes open.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Maintain course. Await further orders.”
Esterhazy stared at him. Falkoner’s chiseled features remained calm and collected. He turned to Esterhazy and said, “This man of yours, he seems to be anticipating our every move. How is that?”
“He’s a devil,” said Esterhazy.
Falkoner turned toward Esterhazy and his eyes narrowed. He almost looked like he was going to say something, but then turned away, speaking into his headset. “Baumann?”
“Here.”
“Your position?”
“Upper VIP stateroom. With Eberstark.”
“Klemper’s gone. You’re in charge. I want you and Eberstark to join Nast on the sky deck. You go up the aft ladder. Eberstark, you go up the main ladder. If the target is there, catch him in the crossfire. Move with extreme caution. If you don’t see him, the three of you sweep the sky and upper decks, fore to aft. Forget what I said about taking him alive. Shoot to kill.”
“Yes, sir. Shoot to kill.”
“I want Zimmermann and Schultz on the main deck, in position to ambush anyone coming down either of the two stairways. If you don’t kill him on the sky deck, the pincer movement above will drive him below and forward, where they’ll be waiting.”
“Yes, sir.”
Esterhazy paced the narrow engine room, thinking furiously. Falkoner’s plan seemed a good one. How could Pendergast—even Pendergast—escape five men armed with automatic weapons on a confined boat, firing at him from two sides?
He looked at Falkoner, still calmly speaking into his headset. He remembered, with horror, the eager look in the man’s eyes as he tortured and killed the journalist. It was the first time he’d seen Falkoner actually enjoying something. And he recalled Falkoner’s eyes when he’d spoken of capturing Pendergast: that same eager, anticipatory look. Like thirst. Despite the warmth of the engine room, he shivered. He was beginning to realize that, even if Pendergast was killed, his problems with the Covenant were far from over. In fact, they might just be beginning.
It had been a serious mistake to plan this op on the Vergeltung. Now he, too, had placed himself at their mercy.
CHAPTER 71
PENDERGAST ASCENDED THE SIDE OF THE YACHT, clinging like a limpet to the exterior of the upper deck, using the drip edges of the windows as toe- and handholds. He reached the lower edge of the bridge windows.