Pirate - Duncan Falconer [69]
‘The town,’ he said after studying it for a moment.
She joined him to take a look. ‘Do you think they’d expect us to try for the ship?’ she asked.
He had considered the same thing. But only the enemy knew when the ship would sail. That was under their control. Stratton had arrived at that thought from a different direction. She probably thought that the pirates and jihadists would prevent them from getting on board the ship if they thought it was the pair’s intention. Stratton thought the Oasis would make a perfect trap and therefore the enemy would make climbing aboard as inviting as possible. ‘We are assuming the ship will be leaving soon. It could stay here for weeks,’ he said.
She hadn’t considered that.
Stratton would make his decision when they had studied the ship and the activity around it. They would learn a lot from just watching for a while.
He stepped off the mound and walked along the bank at a brisk pace.
The ground had changed, become sandier, but the rain had hardened it and although the going was a little slower than on the compacted earth, the girl was thankful for it. They made good progress despite Stratton’s insistence on halting every few hundred metres to listen. The closer they got to the town and the ships, he reasoned, the greater the chance they had of being seen.
The rain had reduced to a drizzle and the sound made by the waves hitting the beach dominated. By the time they could see the white surf folding on to the sand, the rain had ceased. They had lost a good source of cover but the clouds still remained to shut out the stars and reduce the light. Something at least, thought Stratton.
He faced the west and the distant glow from the town, now much brighter. They walked along the ocean side of the sand dam that held the river back. When they reached the end of it, Stratton halted to check around once again.
‘We should move away from the beach,’ he said. ‘It’s a natural line for a patrol to follow.’ He looked towards the water as a heavy wave dropped on to the beach with a thunderous boom. Ideally, they should leave the land completely and cover the rest of the distance by swimming. ‘You up for a swim?’
‘I’d rather drown trying than stay in this land another day,’ she said.
He believed her, but he also worried that she would soon get into trouble out there and he would end up having to help her. Which would be dangerous for both of them. He set off away from the water.
She followed.
They watched the ground ahead and towards the shore constantly. The glow from the town grew brighter with every step. When it separated to become two distinct sources of light, he slowed to an easy walk. The brighter glow to the right was coming from the ships.
The hazy radiance soon became distinct lights, the town sprinkled with white and orange, the vessels a tight collection of stark lights on top of large, dark masses. Electric lights had been placed on the beach in front of the carriers, a new addition since the night before. They had probably run cables ashore from the ships’ generators. But that only worked in his favour. A well-lit beach would make it even more difficult to spot swimmers, especially beyond the ships.
Stratton kept staring at the vessels, aware of the girl’s presence only by the light crunch of her feet in the sand behind him. He was constantly gauging when they should head into the surf. He had chosen to ignore the threat that there could be a trap waiting for them if they climbed on board. He decided it was too sophisticated for the Somalis. Which was a lot to chance on the Somalis’ part because there were many places on board a ship large enough for a person to hide in.
He estimated they should begin the swim at four to five hundred metres from the ships so that they could get well out to sea. But the closer he got, the more he reduced that estimate. The lights around the bulkers would be more distracting