Pirate - Duncan Falconer [77]
He checked the fuel cans connected to the engines. Both nearly empty. He untied the knot in the short rubber pipe attached to the bottom of the fuel barrel. Fuel leaked out. He opened the cans, poked the end inside the first and let the fuel gush in. He repeated the process with the other can and when it was full, he checked the barrel. It looked like he could get four more working containers out of it.
He guessed they had covered around thirty miles by now. Not very much more. So his initial estimate of a hundred miles of fuel looked about correct. The bad news was that the pirate craft had enough fuel to cross the Gulf and back. Stratton would run out of the stuff long before the pirates did.
That left the single option of making it to the corridor and hoping to find a ship before they got caught. Considering the attitude the pirates had towards other ocean-going vessels, it would have to be a navy ship to help him and the girl. Or things wouldn’t work out too well for them.
He looked in a wide arc across their front but he could see nothing, no sign of another ship. He felt certain they would come across another ship before long. But how long?
He looked back at the light. It had come over the horizon and no longer shimmered.
His mind started to work on alternative plans. Perhaps he could do something to confuse the pirate’s radar or shrink the fishing boat’s image. They could tear off the small bridge house and toss it over the side. But in the calm sea, it would probably make hardly any difference to their signature. Could he give the pirates another target to chase? That would require something tall and metallic. But it would need to move off under its own power in another direction. Impossible. Could he make the fishing boat go faster? He could if he made it lighter.
He went to the front and the heavy sea weights. He picked one up with an effort and swung it over the side. The others soon followed and he stood there panting while he searched for anything else he could dump.
He looked to the forward horizon again. He could see a faint light on the port side front quarter. If it was on the top of a large ship, it could be ten or twelve miles away.
He went back to the tiller and pushed it over to turn the boat towards the light. If they were lucky, it would be a navy ship.
If they were even luckier, it would be sailing towards them.
The turn caused the boat to rock a little and the girl rolled over and nudged the edge of the cabin’s door frame with her head, which woke her up. She sat up and looked at Stratton, watched him pick up a coil of chains and throw them overboard. She watched him pick up just about anything that wasn’t attached to the vessel and throw it overboard.
She got to her feet and stepped into the breeze. ‘Are you OK?’ she called out above the wind and the tinny sound of the engines.
‘I was about to wake you up,’ he said. ‘We need to throw the bridge house overboard.’
‘Is there something wrong?’ she said, concerned about the way he was attacking everything.
‘Well, we have some bad news and we have some good news,’ he said as he opened a box and rummaged through it, pulling out several old life jackets. ‘Which would you like first?’
‘I’ll have the good news first.’
Stratton lifted up a tarp to find a collection of angling rods and weights and several heavy-duty fishing reels and harnesses. ‘You see that light directly ahead?’
She found it and looked instantly uplifted and just as quickly her elation was tempered by the