The Big Thaw - Donald Harstad [133]
“Roger,” said Volont. “Well, so much for the coins. That ought to move things right along.”
With her stern against the ice, and her bow pointing into the slow current, the Beauregard had slowly pointed her bow to the left, toward our side of the shore. We were now able to barely make out about the first seventy-five feet of her bow, just about ten windows back along the deck. It looked strange, the front end just jutting out of the fog.
I heard Hester say, “Come on in …” and a large man of about forty-five entered the room. “This is Captain Olinger, an off-duty captain of the boat,” said Hester.
“Glad to meet you,” said Volont. “I can see some activity on the front end of the boat, Captain. Can you tell what they’re doing?”
Captain Olinger looked carefully through Hester’s binoculars for a moment. “Well, it looks like some amateurs are preparing the rescue boat for launch,” he said. “One of them is trying to release the boarding ladder … Not much of a sailor, is he?”
“Captain,” said Volont, “these people have threatened to sink the boat. Can they do it?”
The captain looked down at Volont. “Beats me. What do they have to work with?”
Volont cleared his throat, embarrassed and irritated. Nobody likes to ask a dumb question. “Maybe I should ask what it would take to sink it?”
“And you are?”
James intervened. “He’s FBI,” he said.
“Oh. Well, she’s got five watertight compartments. If the doors are properly closed … you’d have to breach the hull on either side of each of two of the transverse bulkheads to sink her. Flood two of the compartments.” He looked back out the window toward the Beauregard. “I’d say that’d sink her, all right.”
Twenty-six
Sunday, January 18, 1998, 1316
I got busy about then with another phone call from Nancy and Shamrock. They had been on a quick scouting expedition, and had made careful observations.
“There are about five or six onboard, and they’re doing something up front with a raft, or something, and they’re pissed off and worried about something to do with that van on shore.”
Not bad. “What are they worried about the van for?”
“I don’t know. But they don’t seem to know why it’s still there, like it shouldn’t be …” Nancy’s voice, though rapid, was pretty calm.
“They got that right,” I said, with just a hint of pride. “Where are they?”
“Up front. One or two above us, but the others are out on deck, as far as I can tell. Are they going to leave us?”
“I don’t know. They might.” I was really encouraged. If they were talking so that Nancy could overhear, and if they were worried about the van not moving, they weren’t the best of troops. That meant that we might be able to handle them like ordinary criminals, not like pros.
She slowed her voice way down. “Are they going to sink us?”
“They can’t.”
“Oh, right, Houseman. Just like Titanic.”
“No, really. You’re in fourteen feet of water. That means the bottom of the boat is only seven or eight feet above the river bottom. Worst you can do is get your feet wet. Best thing for you two to do is to go up one deck.”
“I’m gonna get a drink,” said Nancy.
“Yeah, right…”
“No shit, Houseman. The bars are still open. Hell, these idiot terrorists are letting people do their thing. There are still a bunch of people playing the slots.”
“You’re kidding?”
“No. For real. The only thing different is that there aren’t any boat security people or any dealers around.” She said good-bye, and broke the connection. To go get a drink, presumably.
I shared the information with the group.
Hester thought it was a good idea. “I mean, it keeps the people calm. It lets the gamblers go back to their thing. Keeps everybody happy. Why not?”
“Especially now,” said Volont. “With about half your people sitting in that van. You don’t really want to do crowd control. Keep everybody happy, like there wasn’t any problem at all. Pretty smart.”
“Call the bank,” said Volont. “See how things are in there.”
Sally did, on speaker phone. You could hear the phone ringing, and then a