Pirate - Duncan Falconer [39]
Stratton lowered the dead man on to the sand and wondered what to do with him. If he left him where he was, he would be found by the next man who needed to relieve himself. Stratton dragged him away from the crates and up the beach for a distance before releasing him and making his way back.
The bodies were mounting. Hopper and he certainly needed to get out of there before the daylight exposed them.
Stratton decided not to take the Somali’s rifle. It would only get in the way and he needed stealth rather than firepower. He placed the weapon on top of one of the crates out of view and set his sights again on the largest vessel. Keeping close to the edge of the crates, he looked towards the fire again. The guards were huddled around it. Almost a dozen of them. He doubted they would miss their colleague. They would believe he had gone off for a kip long before they suspected anything bad had happened to him.
Once Stratton made it into the water, the next problem would be getting on board the ship.
An examination of the target presented him with two choices. The most obvious was the gangway. But although the bottom of it was in darkness, the top was exposed to the bright lights on the deck, the superstructure and the bridge wings. And he couldn’t rule out the possibility that someone would be sitting on deck watching the top of the gangway.
The other option he had was to climb one of the anchor chains. He had scaled them many times before in his career and knew the technique required. He could not see any rat cones attached. Those were a bitch to climb around. He looked at the aft anchor. That would be the easiest option because of the low freeboard. But if he went up that way, he’d have to walk the length of the main deck to get to front of the boat where he’d watched them take the crate. He decided to avoid that exposed walk past the superstructure and climb the longer forward anchor.
Stratton looked over at the guards around the fire. Nothing had changed. He left the cover of the crates and walked briskly across the soft sand. He ran the last few metres and dived into the waves that were collapsing on the shore. He kept beneath the surface for as long as he could and when he came up he looked back to the fire for any signs that he had been seen.
The guards still hadn’t moved and so he turned towards the front of the ship and swam. When he reached the huge metal links, he quickly pulled himself out of the water. He manoeuvred so that the chain angled beneath him and he climbed like a monkey on a branch using all four limbs and three points of contact at any one time. At first it was easy because the chain took much of his weight. But as the angle grew steeper, he had to climb the chain more like a ladder.
He took it one easy step at a time, keeping a watch above and on the shore, aware that from the beach he would be silhouetted against the night sky.
The last few metres were near vertical and required a greater effort as he eased himself up. The huge links passed through a large eye in the side of the ship that was big enough for him to climb through. He eased himself on to the deck and crouched in his wet clothes behind the anchor winch housing. No one could see him there and he took a moment to get his breath back and take stock.
The ship seemed fairly new, that or it was well cared for. The paint job was good and there appeared to be little rust. The superstructure was lit up like a hotel. It housed the accommodation, control room, galley and sick bay, with the bridge and radio shack on the top. The auxiliary generators that provided all of the Oasis’s energy needs maintained a constant hum.
The deck was greasy