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‘I already said that I’m not.’ Ray didn’t mind the impatience in her voice and in her expression. It was at least a sign of engagement, of a return to the world. ‘I’ll be right behind you.’ She smiled and Ray liked that even better. ‘One sword at least thy right shall guard.’
Ray remembered those same words spoken a dozen years ago and moved off into the darkness feeling whole for the first time in a long time.
The decks were deserted and quiet. His first thought was for the refugees. They found a companionway headed down into the hold and cat-footed it into the eerily lit space where they bivouacked. The lighting was provided by strung bulbs of low wattage that gleamed like will-o’-the-wisps hovering over a swamp. The air still smelled terrible. As they went silently down the ladder, they could see the mass of people sitting and standing in close ranks in the cramped hold, three men covering them with automatic rifles.
‘Jesus,’ one of them was saying, ‘what a sorry-assed lot. Be lucky if one in ten of them was worth keeping.’
‘They are a pretty useless bunch of rag-heads. Still, I reckon some of them will bring a nice price. The rest, well, fuck ’em. They can go down with the ship when we scuttle it.’
‘Hey,’ said the third, the one in the middle, ‘give me a cig, will you? I need something to cover up the stench in here.’
Ray reached the hold’s floor, maybe twenty feet behind them.
‘I need a light myself.’ The three men sidled together, keeping their rifles pointed at the mass of people in front of them. Many of the refugees, at least those who hadn’t sunken into complete lethargy, must have seen Ray creeping as stealthily as a panther, but no one gave him away with either a look or a gesture.
One of the men cradled his rifle to his side under his arm while he bent down to light his cigarette with the match offered him by the middle man, while the third reached for a packet he kept in his shirt pocket.
Morons, Ray thought, and when he was six feet away sprang with his arms widespread.
He grabbed the collars of the man to the right and to the left and smashed both their heads into that of the man in the middle. The colliding skulls made satisfyingly loud sounds. Ray held the two up by their collars as their knees sagged while the third slipped silently to the hold’s floor.
The refugees looked almost as stunned as Ray’s victims as he shook the two guards like a terrier with rats in its jaws, just to make sure they were out, then swiftly checked them all for more weapons. ‘Well, don’t just stand there,’ he told the refugees, ‘someone tie them up.’
Twenty-odd prisoners leaped forward in response. It probably would have gone more efficiently if they didn’t keep getting in one another’s way, but Ray let them have their fun. In a few moments the three were tied and gagged and Ray had distributed their guns to refugees who professed familiarity with the weapons.
‘Keep your eye on them while we take care of the rest,’ Ray told them.
‘Let us go with you,’ one of the Kazakhs offered.
Ray shook his head. ‘This job is for professionals. You stay here and guard these bozos.’
They reluctantly accepted his advice, and Ray returned to the stairway, where the Angel stood watching him.
‘I didn’t think you’d need my help,’ she said.
Ray snorted. ‘Not with those idiots. But there’s five left. Let’s check the bridge.’
The Angel nodded, and they went up the walkway to the deck above, where all was still darkness. Ahead, in the bow, they could see the lit bridge and the figures who occupied it, who were unidentifiable at this distance.
They moved quietly toward the light. Halfway there, Ray put out his arm in warning and he and the Angel stopped. They could hear something slithering before them in the darkness.
‘The snake,’ the Angel said quietly, and suddenly before them loomed IBT.
Ray thrust himself forward between him and the Angel.
‘Stop right there,’ Ray said coldly, ‘or I will seriously fuck you up.’
The human part of IBT’s body was raised up. He was as tall as a tall man standing, while the coils of his snake body writhed behind him.
‘Who are you?’
‘I’m Billy Ray,’ Ray replied, ‘and I owe you big for what you did to my wife.’
‘Wife?’ The expression on the joker-ace’s face went puzzled. ‘I don’t—’ He suddenly caught sight of the Angel beside Ray. ‘She’s your wife?’
‘That’s right,’ Ray said in a flat voice.
‘I remember,’ the Infamous Black Tongue said. ‘It was in Kazakhstan, on the battlefield. Neither of us were in our right minds then.’
‘Whatever—’ Ray said, and the Angel took his arm, stopping him before he could move.
‘He’s right, Billy,’ the Angel said. ‘It’s what you’ve been telling me all this time.’
‘I am sorry for what happened,’ IBT said.
‘As am I,’ the Angel replied. ‘But there’s no time for apologies now. What’s happening on the bridge?’
‘We made a deal with the man who calls himself Witness. A million dollars to take us to refuge in Cuba. But it was all a trap – he just wanted the money and people he could sell into servitude. He plans to scuttle the ship once we’re out to sea, take off the ones he thinks would be useful, and let the old and infirm drown.’
‘Where’s the Witness?’ Ray asked.
‘On the bridge. He has Olena.’ IBT looked desperate. ‘We have to rescue her, but he has guns.’
For the first time Ray noticed that blood was oozing out of several segments of IBT’s colorful banded serpent body.
‘You’ve been shot,’ Ray said.
IBT shook his head. ‘That’s not important. He has Olena. We must rescue her.’
‘All right. Calm down,’ Ray said as he saw the desperate look return to the joker’s face. ‘Let’s see. There’s five of them—’
IBT shook his head. ‘Three. He sent out three men to guard the refugees in the hold—’
‘We took care of them,’ Ray said.
‘—and then two sentries to patrol the deck,’ IBT said, then added with some satisfaction, ‘and I took care of them.’
‘Okay,’ Ray said. He didn’t ask for details. ‘Uh, you didn’t run into a tall, pale, skinny guy in a dark suit, did you? Probably wearing a patch over one eye.’
‘No,’ IBT said.
‘Good. He’s one of us.’
IBT nodded.
‘All right,’ Ray said. ‘Time to take the bridge.’
It took only moments to arrange the ambush. IBT led them to a place of concealment where they had a decent view of the control room through the front windows shielding the bridge deck. The windows were already shot out, shattered in IBT’s original hopeless assault. They could see six people in the dim light of the chamber. Two were thugs with guns, one was Olena, the other two were the captain of the Schröder and his mate, who was steering the ship. The last—
‘It’s him,’ the Angel said.
It was the Witness. Ray had encountered him first during the mission on which he’d met the Midnight Angel. He knew that this Witness and the Angel had a history between them, but she’d never revealed the extent of it and he’d never asked her. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘no sense in putting this off.’ He looked at IBT. ‘Get in place. Move when you hear the shots.’
‘Give me three minutes,’ IBT said.
‘You got it,’ Ray said, and the Tongue slithered off into the darkness.
‘You don’t want to do this,’ the Angel said.
‘Kill these guys?’ Ray shrugged. ‘Not particularly.’
‘No.’ The Angel smiled. ‘You’re not cold-blooded. Hot-blooded, yes. But you can’t kill from ambush.’
‘There’s always a first time,’ Ray said.
‘Not if there’s another way.’
‘I told you. All you had to do is get me here. I would take care of the rest.’
‘I love you,’ the Angel said.
Ray smiled. ‘That’s good to hear.’
‘I know.’ She bowed her head. ‘Save me from evil, Lord,’ she prayed for the first time in months, ‘and heal this warrior’s heart.’
Her wings appeared and she shot up into the sky. She was above the sight line from the bridge in a second, a reverse meteor burning through the sky. In her hands, Ray saw, was her flaming sword. She flew above the bridge, cut her way through the roof, and dropped down on top of them. The sword cut two swaths through the air, left and right, and the barrels of the guns dropped, severed in two. She broke her grip on the sword’s hilt and it disappeared, going wherever the hell it went when she didn’t need it. Then she used her fists on them. They didn’t stand a chance.
‘You!’ the Witness said.
‘Me,’ the Angel agreed, and advanced on him.
He backed away, saying, ‘Not again, not again!’
‘Hmm,’ Ray said, and fired two shots into the air.
IBT burst through the door and threw a couple of loops of his body around the Witness.
‘The serpent!’ the Witness screamed. ‘Oh, God, not the serpent! Save me, oh, God, save me!’
IBT started to squeeze and the Witness screamed like a little girl.
Next to Ray, Maximillian Klingensmith appeared from out of the shadows.
‘Where you been?’ Ray asked.
‘Hiding from that snake guy,’ he said. ‘Everything under control?’
‘I guess so,’ Ray said.
♣
But, no, Ray realized. Their troubles were far from over.
He stood in what remained of the bridge, with the Angel, Olena, IBT, and the Schröder’s captain and mate. The Witness, who’d fainted dead away when the IBT had grabbed him, was tied up with his surviving men in the hold. The Schröder was still steaming upriver, being chased by more launches and followed on the road running alongside the river by a line of screaming police cars, their sirens wailing in the night.
‘Now what?’ Olena said miserably. ‘Our last hope is gone. Cuba was our last haven. What can we do now? We can’t let them be taken to Rathlin. That’s a prison sentence, a virtual death sentence.’
They all exchanged glances.
‘Well,’ Ray said, ‘far be it from me to encourage illegal behavior, but I think your best chance is to run for it.’
‘What?’ Olena said.
Ray shrugged. ‘Find someplace, run the ship aground, and leg it. Some of the refugees will probably be caught, but you can hardly have a more emotionally heart-touching revelation of their plight. The publicity will be killer. In the meantime, many will get away. It’s a big country. I’m sure there’s people out there willing to help, one way or another.’
‘But you, you say this? You represent the government.’
Ray sighed. ‘I’ve represented the government for forty years, and if it’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that the government isn’t always right. The right thing for them in this case was to help your people, not turn their backs on them.’
‘The Lord,’ the Angel said quietly, ‘helps those who help themselves.’
‘There you go,’ Ray said.
Olena and IBT looked at each other. Then she looked at the captain.
‘Can this be done safely?’
‘Relatively,’ he said.
‘But your ship?’
He sighed. ‘My ship is old and so am I. I think we are both ready to retire.’
Olena took a deep breath. ‘All right,’ she said. ‘Let’s do it.’
♠
‘Are we doing the right thing here, Angel?’ Ray asked as they watched the crowd of refugees swarm the deck.
‘I think you’ve given them their best chance,’ she said.
They looked at Munnin. The patch was back over his left eye. ‘I see nothing,’ he said.
‘That’s probably for the best,’ Ray said. ‘Better hang on.’
They all grabbed onto the derrick in the center of the deck as the captain ran the ship aground. It hit the riverbank in the midst of a dark industrial area that consisted of large buildings set in a warren of narrow streets and alleys. The ship shuddered with a groaning cry of old metal tearing. Although the three kept their feet, on the deck below them many of the refugees went down. Some skidded and rolled, but most all got to their feet immediately and it was every man, woman, and child for themselves. They swarmed down gangplanks and ladders. The confident swimmers went over the side and into the water below.
The launches following them stopped dead, the police cars racing up the road skidded to a halt. The three SCARE agents watched the show unfold. It was like watching a surrealistic version of an old Keystone Kops movie with sound effects.
