Chapter 6
Loose Lips and
Sinking Ships
Ben
YOUR TURN, CHAP,” James says, folding his cards close to his chest. I throw a card down, hardly thinking about the game.
“It’s been too long,” I answer, as James rolls his eyes and slaps down another card in the center.
He folds up his sleeve and takes a look at his wrist watch. “It’s been six minutes.”
I can do nothing but mumble at that. We all agreed to share the rounds. A measure of trust, Lillian had said. Despite the lack of danger so far, the olive branch is hardly making me feel better.
James’ eyes peer at me from behind his cards.
Realizing I have no intent of trying to win the game, he stacks his cards neatly on the table and moves them to the side.
“It sounds to me that you should just move in with her and be done with it. Keep a weather eye on her at all times of day. Would that put you at ease?”
“None of your concern.” I shrug, urging him to pick up his cards again. If I don’t have the distraction, I’ll flee. I promised Lillian I’d give the team the space to pitch in, so I settle back in the chair and try to distract myself.
We’re not three turns back into the game when a ferocious pounding sounds at the stateroom door. James and I are on our feet within moments, the game forgotten.
“I know you’re in there!” Oliver’s timid voice is loud enough to be considered more than a whisper for the first time since meeting him.
James swings open the door and a sweating Oliver appears. “We’ve got problems,” he says as a steward runs past.
“What problems?” I demand, my fingers creating an indent in the door.
Before anyone can answer, an explosion rocks the ship, tossing all of us to the side.
The ship groans violently but thankfully rights itself.
Only in the piercing unknown of the aftermath does the real chaos begin.
Alarms sound as crewmen spill into the hallway.
They bang on doors and tell everyone to go to their muster stations immediately.
“Is this the problem?” James yells from behind me. He’s put his jacket back on and straightens his tie.
“No,” Oliver says with the shake of his head. “They got into the ladies’ room. They took Diederick, and I ran before…”
“You ran,” I bellow, desperately trying to keep my composure. “Why’d you do that?”
“Cut him some slack, Ben.” James checks to see if his gun is loaded before moving past us. “If these two instances are connected then they’ve given themselves enough time to escape with whatever and whoever they want.” He moves past us then in the opposite direction of the stairwell.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” I yell after him. The hall is already crowded, behaviors devolving quicker than I’d like.
“To my client!” he calls back. “I will find you immediately after I see him to safety.”
“Lillian is the priority!” I scream after him, but he’s already gone.
“What do you want me to do?” Oliver asks, nerves radiating off of him. I hardly have any use for a runner.
Reaching forward, I grab him by his lapels and snap him toward me.
Looking straight through his crooked glasses, I make sure he hears every syllable.
“Go to Diederick's bed, look under the mattress. There’s a bag. Don’t ask questions.
Don’t look through it; just grab it and whatever equipment you need.
Get all of it off this ship safely.” I haphazardly throw him back through the door into the room.
There’s no time to grab any of my personal things, so I settle for the necessities. Throwing my holster over my chest, I retrieve the two pistols I’d stashed behind the armoire and make sure they’re secure. I move out into the flow of people without looking back. I need to get to her room and fast.
With any luck, those at fault will have left clues; I’d take just one.
As I run down a quieter hallway, a steward tries to stop me.
“Sir, they’ve closed the bulkheads, but we really must move up to the lifeboats.
If you’d follow me–” It’s then that he sees the guns.
He immediately steps back with his hands up.
“There will be no looting on this ship, sir!” I must look like the looting type in the shape I’m in, but I don’t care.
I blow past the man in an effort to reach the stairs that sit just beyond us. He doesn’t have the courage to follow.
A few stragglers flow past as I approach Lillian and Margaret’s room. One woman is in tears, holding the hand of a young child. “Ma’am, did you happen to hear or see anything before the explosion?” She sets her eyes on me but gasps at the sight of my weapons. She moves on quickly without a word.
I try the next couple that passes by. They’re not unnerved by the sight of my guns, but they hadn’t heard a thing up until the explosion rocked them from their berths. Feeling the weight of a ticking clock, I abandon the idea of speaking with others and cut directly to the girls’ room.
At first I don’t see anything, but when I step inside, I see two slippered feet sticking out between the beds. I gulp back terror as I approach the body.
Margaret lies on her chest, face tilted with her left cheek resting on the carpeted floor.
I immediately fall to the ground next to her and place two fingers against her neck.
There’s a pulse. Leaning back onto my heels, I take in the surroundings the criminals left her in.
A rag has been discarded to the side. It’s stiff with a substance, and I instantly know it was used to put her out of the way.
Gently, I roll the woman onto her back and gently tap her face.
She groans and then comes to life all at once.
She throws out her hand, connecting with my jaw before pushing herself up against the bed and bringing her knees to her chest.
“Easy, Margaret, it’s me!” The realization dawns on her face as I speak. Her wide eyes show the mortification that she had struck me. There’s no time for apologies, and sadly no time for comfort. “Where’d they take her?” I ask, rubbing away the sting of the slap.
Her eyes glaze over like she’s having trouble remembering.
Her fingers curl into the carpet in an attempt to ground herself.
It must work because her brow furrows in worry when she takes in the ship’s list and the lack of the engine’s vibrations through the floor.
When she looks up at me again, there’s fear and confusion etched into her face.
“Margaret,” I try again, “what happened? Where did they take Lillian?” My tone is soft and coaxing, but inside I’m on fire. Every second wasted here is another that they get further away.
“They… They…” She tilts her head back against the bed, deep in concentration. “They couldn’t find what they were looking for.”
Margaret glances over at Lillian’s trunk, and I know then that they were most likely looking for Lillian’s necklace.
“I heard them talking on a radio,” she says suddenly. “Before they knocked me out!” Her attention snaps toward me, rage building.
“Why didn’t they take you? Or kill you?” It’s a horrendous thing to ask. I should be thankful that they left her alive, but still, it doesn’t make sense to me.
“I think Diederick showed up. They didn’t care about me after that.” She rubs her arms in shock, her eyes glazing over again.
“I’m sorry,” I say gently. “Do you remember anything else?”
Before she can answer, a loud voice sounds from the hallway.
“The flooding has been contained, but this ship is slowly sinking. The captain has ordered everyone to abandon ship. Please make your way above deck to board your lifeboat.” The voice begins again as the stewards move past the open door.
A man on a megaphone doesn’t stop to question us, instead he continues his message.
“Can you find your way above?” I ask.
She holds her head, but with my help she manages to find her feet and stay there. “I can,” she answers with a slight nod.
“Take what you need and hurry up top. James and Oliver should already be up there. We will reconnect when we can.” I have two feet toward the door when she stops me.
“You’re not coming with me?” There’s terror there but also annoyance.
“I’ve got to find Lillian and Diederick,” I say simply. There is no other option.
When I stop moving, she removes her hand from my shoulder. “You don’t think they set off the explosion as a diversion and are taking them off the ship?”
It’s a theory that makes sense, but one I cannot jump to right away. I need to clear the ship. “I can’t take that risk.” I turn to her fully now. “Is there anything they said? Please try to remember.”
Her head dips again, but she thankfully has news for me quickly.
“I think I heard them say something about the forward midship cargo hold.” She shakes her head in disbelief, but I’ve already turned.
“I was already halfway unconscious by then.” Her voice grows louder.
“It could be anything!” I don’t choose to hear her, even as she leaves me with one more chilling thought: “It will be under water within the hour if that sailor is to be believed!”
I’m already out the door.
Even as the ship tilts further, I push myself to descend into the belly of the ship.
When I come across an open crew passageway, I take a deep breath and enter.
Leaving the door open behind me to mark the escape, I hastily make my way toward a stairwell.
There is no hesitation as I throw myself into a run down the first flight.
I’ve reached E Deck when I hear my name being called from somewhere far above me.
“Mr. Ward?” I call up, my own voice reverberating heavily off the steel walls of the stairwell. I have no idea how he’s caught me, but I’d be lying if it didn’t give me confidence going forward. Glaring above, I see his hand gliding down the rail, one flight at a time.